If I Should Die

“You said you were friends of Tim Hendrickson from Boston.”

“You know what they say about ‘assume,’ ” Sean spoke up for the first time.

Weddle didn’t get the insult. He continued. “And you, Rogan, should have told me you’re a licensed private investigator. You’re just on vacation?”

“Yes,” Sean said curtly. “When we found out about the vandalism, we told Tim we’d help him get to the bottom of the situation.”

“And found a dead body.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

Lucy exclaimed, “The body was there! I told you there is evidence, but it needs to be collected immediately to avoid any more degradation. The larvae need to be collected as soon as possible and sent to a lab. They’ll be able to dissect them and detect human DNA, to prove that they grew inside a dead body, and possibly yield enough DNA evidence to identify the victim.”

“Ms. Kincaid, I appreciate your diligence, but you need to leave this investigation to us. You tampered with evidence by returning to the mine. We may be a small county, but we’re not hicks and we know what we’re doing. You should have told me you worked at a morgue.”

She had left her position three months before, but evidently her official records hadn’t caught up with her status. She didn’t correct him, but said instead, “Then you should believe me. And the fact that someone shot at us-they may have been trying to scare us away so they could destroy that evidence!”

“Which you’ve given them ample time to do since you breached the crime scene.”

“Now you’re calling it a crime scene?” She began to pace again. She hated confrontation, but couldn’t seem to stop her anger from spilling out. “You’re missing the point! Someone shot at us! I don’t know if it’s related to the dead body or the vandalism, but I don’t like being shot at.”

“That wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t go back to the mine,” Weddle snapped.

Lucy clenched her fists, and Sean rose from the couch and put his hand on her arm, halting her movement. Usually she was the one who tried to calm Sean down.

“Deputy,” Sean said, “you’re out of line.”

“No. You and Ms. Kincaid need to stand down. Both the arson and the dead body are police business.” He, too, rose and stared at them, his face flushed with anger. Unjustified, as far as Lucy was concerned. “If I see either of you interfering again, I will arrest you.”

“With all due respect,” Sean said, though there was no respect in his tone, “Tim hired me to stop the vandalism and protect his property. I’m not backing off.”

“You haven’t done a very good job.”

Now it was Sean who looked ready to deck the cop. Lucy took a deep breath and said, “Are you going to collect the evidence, or do you think I should call the FBI?”

Weddle’s face reddened. “It’s our jurisdiction. We’ll decide if we bring in the Feds.” He eyed Sean. “I have no problem with you playing mall cop on the Hendrickson property, but you’d better watch yourself if you leave these grounds, because my department doesn’t want your help or interference.”

Weddle swaggered out, brushing against Sean, as if daring him to fight. Tim looked stunned at the exchange but followed the cop out, and Sean slammed the front door behind them, causing the windows in the small house to rattle.

“He’s the epitome of every reason I hate cops!”

Lucy winced. Sean didn’t mean it literally, but she knew he had issues with law enforcement, many of them justified from his personal experience. And Lucy was no Pollyanna when it came to law enforcement-there were good and bad cops, without a doubt. Her older brother Connor had been forced to quit the police force when he turned against a corrupt cop. Her sister-in-law Kate had been unjustly accused by the FBI of getting her partner killed. But most police officers did the job right and they did it well.

Sean ran both hands through his hair. “I don’t trust that cop. We have no idea who the players are. For all we know, he could be involved with trying to shut the lodge down. He could have killed that woman or shot at us.”

“Quite a conspiracy theory you’ve got going there,” Lucy said.

“You can’t trust him.”

“I don’t.”

“Not all cops wear white hats, Lucy,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken.

“You think I don’t know that?” Why was Sean so confrontational with her? Because of his deep-seated animosity toward law enforcement? “I know exactly how you feel,” she continued. “You’ve made it perfectly clear. The world isn’t black and white; no one is a saint. The bad cops on the street make me sick, but most cops aren’t like that. They might not bend the rules enough to suit you and you might not like the restrictions they have to work under, but take away the rules and what do you have? Vigilante justice. And we know where that leads.”

“Lucy, I’m-”

She cut him off. “And how are you going to feel about me when I’m wearing a badge?”

She was so angry-at Weddle, at the sniper, but mostly at Sean, because deep down he’d scratched at a doubt she still couldn’t articulate: would she be able to follow the strict rules required of the FBI? When could they be bent? If Spruce Lake’s Sheriff’s Department didn’t do anything about the missing dead woman, could Lucy let it go? Or would she break the law to see true justice done?

“How I feel about you won’t ever change, whether you have a badge or not.” Sean rubbed her arms. “I shouldn’t have to tell you that.”

She swallowed uneasily. “Maybe you don’t realize how hostile you are toward authority.” But her anger, and deep-seated worry about Sean’s attitude, began to fade.

“This is a ridiculous conversation. We agree that Weddle is an asshole cop and is either incompetent or guilty of something. So why are we arguing?”

She hesitated, torn between forcing Sean to address his issues and letting it slide to keep the peace. Sean took that moment to extend the olive branch.

He stepped closer and held her face in his hands. “I wish I’d never agreed to help Tim. We need time together, alone.” He studied her eyes, wanting her support and affirmation.

It felt as if Sean had been in her life for years, but it had been only three months since they’d grown intimate, and they rarely had any time alone together. He knew everything about her past-but what did she really know about Sean’s history? He’d had issues with authority ever since he’d been expelled from Stanford after hacking into his professor’s computer to expose him as a pedophile, but that wasn’t the whole story. There was much about Sean’s past she didn’t know.

Nevertheless, Lucy absolutely trusted Sean’s deep-seated drive to help those in trouble. “You couldn’t turn your back on somebody who needed you,” Lucy said, “and we must do what we can for Tim and Adam.”

“We’re good, right? You and me? That’s my main concern.”

He looked worried. Sean had told her that he needed her more than she needed him, and she didn’t believe it. But for the first time, she saw fear of loss in his eyes.

“Lucy, I’m sorry I overstepped.”

She shook her head. “I overreacted. We agree that Weddle is a problem. Do you really think he could be involved in what’s going on with Tim?”

“I need to call in some help.” He smiled, though the humor didn’t reach his eyes. “You probably thought you’d never hear me say that.”

“You’re right.” She smiled back, grimly.

“I suspect the sniper will try again, when he realizes we’re not leaving, I need Patrick up here to watch our backs.”

“What about the bullet casings?”

“I’ll send those to RCK West. Duke has an interest in this case; he’ll be happy to run them.”

“What about the missing persons reports?”

“Patrick is already working on it; we’re not going to let that go. I promise.”

Lucy nodded. “I’m going to the cabin to take a shower. I still feel dirty from the mine.”

“I’m going to Canton to overnight the casings to Duke.”

“Why Canton? Isn’t that nearly an hour away?”