Storm Damage (Big Sky Series Book 1)

by CP Smith

  “Are you saying you don’t think he can do the job?” Ty asked confused.

  Logan and Ty’s newfound respect for each other still threw me. One minute they were ready to kill each other, and the next Ty was voting for him as the new chief. “Of course, he can. With his military background he’s the obvious choice. But how do any of you know that?”

  Gerry rose from his seat, hooked his thumbs through his belt loops. “Duke chose him. Strong-armed him really, without even trying. And that was good enough for us.”

  Ed nodded in agreement. “Seems your man made quite the impression on Duke. He ran his background yesterday and told us last night over a beer that he’d found his replacement. Fortuitous for us considering Duke is missing. And you’re right. Out of all the men in Ennis, Mr. Storm is the most qualified to take on the responsibility until we can figure out what’s happened to Duke.”

  Logan squeezed my shoulder and I looked up at him. “I’ll do everything in my power to find Duke. I can promise you that.”

  Logan’s silent strength put me at ease. If anyone could find Duke, it was him. “I guess I need to fire you then.”

  A grin crossed his mouth. “I think I can hold down two jobs.”

  Considering he used to fight terrorists for a living, I was sure he was right.

  “We need you to head over to Yellowstone tonight, see what you can find out,” George Anderson said. “Duke wouldn’t sleep if it were one of us missing, and we’ll do the same for him.”

  I turned at that announcement and told Logan I was going with him then ran from the room and headed to find Josh before he could argue. George was right, Duke would have done anything for one of Ennis’ citizens. He’d also delayed retiring because of my brothers and me. We owed it to him to help bring him home.

  “Can you stay the night at a friend’s house?” I asked my brother when I found him.

  Josh, being fifteen and a perv, wiggled his eyebrows. “Need the cabin to yourself?”

  I reached out and popped him behind the ear. “Quit being a perv. Logan’s heading to Yellowstone to find Duke, and I want to go with him.”

  “Duke’s in Wyoming?”

  “They found his truck there.”

  “Why is Logan going?”

  “He’s the new police chief until we find Duke.”

  His eyes bugged out. “Jesus, Skye, you hit the motherload with this guy. We’ve got unlimited ‘get out of jail free’ cards now.”

  I popped him behind the ear again. “Focus, Josh.”

  “Right. Right. Sorry. Um, yeah, I can hang with Cody.”

  Logan’s hand landed on my shoulder. “Can you take Max with you? Keep an eye on him for me?”

  Josh grew very still, and his eyes turned glassy with an odd sort of wonder. You’d have thought Logan asked him to keep watch over the varsity cheer squad the way he reacted. “You bet. Absolutely. I won’t let anything happen to him.”

  Logan reached out his hand for Josh to shake, and he stood taller instantly. “I know you won’t.”

  The glassy wonder morphed into pride, and I wondered, not for the first time, if Logan truly was Superman. In less than two days, Josh had changed from broody and secretive to open and hopeful.

  Once we were outside heading to his truck, I tugged on Logan’s hand. When he turned to look back at me, I reached up and placed my hand over his heart before rising up to kiss him. He didn’t stop me, let me take control. When I’d finished showing my gratitude for Josh’s attitude adjustment, I simply said, “Thank you.”

  “For what?” he whispered against my lips.

  “For Josh. For looking for Duke. For being you.”

  _______________

  Driving in the snow was slow going. A ninety-minute trip took twice as long if you wanted to reach your destination in one piece, so that left a lot of time for questions and answers. We’d stopped on the way out of town for gas and provisions, so with a hot chocolate resting securely in my hands, and a beef stick hanging precariously from my mouth, I turned my back to the passenger door and leaned against it so I could watch Logan as he drove.

  I was sick with worry for my friend. A million scenarios ran through my brain about what could have happened to Duke, each of them worse than the next. I knew I needed a distraction before anxiety wormed it’s way back through my system or the next few hours would be unbearable.

  “Where were you born?” Twenty questions would help take both our minds off of what we might find when we reached Yellowstone.

  Logan glanced at me quickly then back at the road. “Nashville.”

  I’d noted a hint of the South in his accent, but not like I would have expected for Tennessee. “You don’t speak with much of a twang.”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “I grew up in foster care after my mother overdosed. The last home I was in was close to five years. My house parents were from England, so I suppose it counteracted the twang.”

  “Your mother overdosed?” I reached over and squeezed his arm for comfort. “I’m so sorry, Logan. Do you remember her at all?”

  Logan took his hand off the wheel for a brief moment and squeezed my hand back in appreciation. “No. I was four when she died.”

  He didn’t seem upset by the questions, but I moved on to keep the conversation from being too dark. “Um. How about favorite movie.”

  He looked at me and grinned. “Playing twenty questions, are we?”

  I’d kicked off my boots to get comfortable, so I uncurled one of my legs and poked his side with my foot. “I want to know you inside and out.”

  Before I could move my foot back, Logan grabbed it and pulled it across his lap, rubbing the arch in a delicious way. “Fight Club.”

  I rolled my eyes. What was it about that movie?

  “You like rolling your eyes at me.”

  Did I?

  “Is that a problem for you?”

  “Not for me, no. But you might think so when I kiss you every time you do it in public or bend you over the closest surface when we’re not.”

  My mouth opened and closed like a fish, then I cleared my throat. “Duly noted.”

  A low rumble shook his body as he chuckled quietly.

  “Um. How many girlfriends have you had?”

  His forehead creased. “None.”

  My brows shot to my hairline. “None? How is that possible considering you’re you?”

  He glanced at me then back at the road. “I was in foster care. I didn’t want to bring a girl into that atmosphere in high school. Then I joined the army and my focus was on my job, not my love life.”

  “So you’ve never been in love?”

  He shook his head without taking his eyes off the road.

  I bit my lip. Had he ever had anyone who loved him?

  “Have you ever loved anyone?”

  The hand still rubbing my foot squeezed it once. “Yeah.”

  I knew I was wading into dangerous territory now. You don’t have nightmares like he had if he didn’t care about the men who died. “Was it your friends Coop, Buster, and Loverboy?”

  He nodded instantly but didn’t offer an explanation.

  Did I push or let it go?

  I went with my gut. “I’m sorry you lost them.”

  His quick intake of breath was the only indication he’d heard me. I started to pull my foot back to give him some space, but he held it in place. He drove silently for a few minutes more—while I worried I’d messed up and pushed too hard—before he finally responded.

  “I was a sniper. Recruited for the position my first six months in the army. I had a natural skillset for long-range kills, and they honed those skills to a razor’s edge. Later, I was recruited again for Delta Force. As a sniper, I spent time on my own, sometimes in enemy territory. It suited me, the isolation, but members of my unit, Coop, Buster, and Loverboy broke through the wall I’d built during my youth. It was a natural fit for us. I protected them from a distance, and in return they gave me the closest thing to a famil
y I’d ever had.”

  A knot tightened in my chest. No wonder he had nightmares. “You lost them on the twenty-eighth of November, didn’t you?”

  His eyes shot to mine as the truck slowed to a stop on the side of the road. I held my breath and waited while he fought the demons swimming in his eyes. I’m sure a psychologist would say not to force the issue, but I’d come this far, I wouldn’t back down now. Even if he didn’t feel like talking about it today, I’d opened the door for the future.

  “How?” was all he said.

  Reaching over I tugged up his sleeve until his Delta Force tattoo showed the words 28 NOV. “Josh saw your tattoo and searched the internet. I’m so sorry, Logan.”

  He closed his eyes on the word sorry and dropped his head, breathing deeply through a shudder that wracked his body. “It’s my fault.” The words were spoken with resignation and anger. “I didn’t see the second bomber in time. I couldn’t save them.”

  We were stopped in the middle of a snow-covered highway, but I didn’t care. We hadn’t seen another vehicle since we left town, so I unbuckled my seat belt and crawled across the cab until I was straddling his lap. Logan dropped his head back onto his seat and stared back at me with no emotion. He looked blank except for the twitching in his jaw, which said he was holding on, but only just.

  I cupped his face with both my hands and rubbed my thumbs across the apple of his cheeks just like he’d done to me. “War is hell. Everyone says so. I don’t have a clue what you went through over there, but unless you put a bullet into your friends on purpose, then none of it was your fault. Evil wins sometimes, you know this. If the positions were reversed, would you blame Coop, Buster, or Loverboy for your death?”

  His jaw tightened further. He wouldn’t blame them any more than they would blame him.

  “Why do you think it’s your fault?”

  “It was my job to protect my unit.” He clipped the word out through clenched teeth. “Not all soldiers look like me, Skye. Some weigh a hundred pounds wet, but their minds—” he tapped his temple “—their raw intellect is worth ten of me. Coop, Buster, and Loverboy were top of their classes. Were recruited ‘cause of the way their minds worked. They were the strategists, and I was the muscle. The one who kept them safe while they executed their mission. I had one job and I failed them.”

  Lowering my head to his, I simply said, “Okay.” Nothing I said would change his mind. In his opinion, he’d failed his mission. He would carry that burden and belief the rest of his life. All I could do was support him, show compassion and understanding, while he dealt with the aftermath. “Just know I’m here when you’re ready to talk about them. About any of it.”

  Logan buried his face in my neck and held on for a moment, then pulled back and kissed my nose before lifting me from his lap and depositing me back in my seat. He didn’t put the truck back into drive until I’d buckled my seat belt.

  Once we were underway, I reached for the radio to lighten the mood. Before turning it on, I asked Logan, “Pop. Rock. Rap. Or country?”

  “You turn on pop, and I’ll tan your hide.”

  With a grin, I turned the dial to the local pop station and cranked up the volume. I raised one brow in challenge when his eyes shot to mine, watched with satisfaction as a slow grin pulled across his mouth, and the demons he carried melted into the back of his memory.

  _______________

  The police were waiting when Logan pulled his truck alongside Duke’s rig. He’d called before leaving Ennis, to let them know he’d been assigned as the temporary chief of police and he’d be there in a few hours. Law enforcement, like the military, was a brotherhood. The fact Duke Remington was from a different state meant little to the park police. All they cared about was one of their own was missing in their territory.

  Logan noted search and rescue was on scene and in the water, their searchlights illuminating the inky gloom. The snow had brought in the wind, hampering visibility to a few feet. If Duke was in the water waiting to be rescued, they wouldn’t see him until they were right on top of him.

  Turning to Skylar before opening his door, Logan ordered her to stay in the truck while he checked with the officer in charge. He assumed she would listen, but found Skylar rounding the front of his truck, headed for Duke’s, when he slammed his door behind him. The steel he’d seen the first time they met was back in force. Her friend was missing, and she wasn’t about to sit in a warm vehicle while he might be dying from exposure.

  He let her go and turned his attention to the officer approaching. He was mid-forties with salt-and-pepper hair. And angry if the sneer crossing his mouth was any indicator.

  “You Storm?” the man bit out.

  He didn’t bother to put out his hand for Logan to shake, so Logan ignored the rules of engagement in the civilized world. “I’m Storm.”

  The man didn’t beat around the bush. “Got a hellava storm brewing here and they send me some wet behind the ears, newly appointed pencil pusher to sort it out. You wanna be on scene, I can’t stop you, but stay the hell out of my way. I’ve got a fellow officer missing.”

  “Name. Rank?” Logan bit out forcefully when the officer turned his back and started to walk away. Logan had pegged the man as former military the moment he approached. It was the cut of his pants, the rod in his spine when he showed Logan his back, so Logan spoke to him in terms the man would respond to.

  The officer stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Captain Spear.”

  Logan took a step toward the man. “I think we understand each other when I say I don’t give a fuck what you think of me and my newly appointed title. Duke Remington is my responsibility. If you have a problem sharing information, I’d be happy to take it up with your chief.”

  Spear stared at him, chewing on how far to push Logan. Skylar walked up while they had their standoff and looked between them. “Duke’s truck is empty. Did you secure all of his stuff?”

  Spear’s attention shot to Skylar. “Cab was empty when we got here.”

  Skylar seemed shocked and looked back at the truck. “It was spotless when you found it?”

  The suspicion that Duke’s disappearance hadn’t made sense, surfaced again. “Is that unusual?”

  “For Duke it is. He works out of his truck most of the time. He’s always got old food containers and clothes on the floorboard. And yesterday was no different. He drove me back to the bar after you took Josh to school, and I had to shove stuff onto the floor to sit down. If he spent most of the day at the bar with the rest of the town, when did he find the time to scrub the inside spotless?”

  Logan searched the area and found Duke’s boat anchored on the shore. Without a word to Spear, he grabbed Skylar’s hand and pulled her toward the boat. “Would you know if anything was missing from his boat?”

  Skylar caught on quickly and rushed toward the boat, scanning the inside. “Where are his poles, his tackle box? He’d have a cooler with food and drink as well.”

  Logan turned and found Spear watching them both, speculation masking his features instead of annoyance. “Did you secure anything in the boat?”

  Spear grabbed the radio attached to his coat and spoke to someone on the other end. When a sharp reply of, “Negative, Captain,” broke the air, Spear’s attention shot to Logan.

  “Would a man as dedicated to fishing as Duke was, be out on the water without his gear? Without provisions?”

  Spear studied the boat, looked back at Duke’s truck then his eyes shot to Logan. “So we’ve got a possible abduction set up to look like a fishing accident?”

  Logan glanced over his shoulder at the black water and shook his head. “Not an abduction—” he looked at Skylar with concern “—they want us to believe he drowned.”

  Skylar’s face fell, the hope she been hanging on to vanished and was replaced with grief. “They want us to think he’s dead because he is, isn’t he . . . ?”

  Fifteen

  Haunted Eyes

  IT DIDN’T MATTER h
ow hot I ran the bath water, I still couldn’t get warm. The arctic air may have frozen me to the bone, but it wasn’t the snow that had chilled my heart. Duke was dead. I knew that as sure as I knew the sun would rise in the morning and spill beauty across the state I loved. He was gone. Just like my father. And someone had killed him.

  Leaning my head back against the tub, I closed my eyes and pulled up Duke’s face in my mind. I could see the tiny scar near his right eye. The one he’d gotten when he’d learned to fly fish as a boy. Time had transformed it, but it was still visible when he laughed.

  I thought about all the times he came to our house when my father was alive to watch football on Sunday afternoons. All the times he came to check on me and my brothers in the weeks following my father’s death. How his eyes were filled with grief when he’d scan the living room as if he were searching for my father. His best friend.

  Duke had woven himself into our lives like a favorite uncle. I tried but couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t in the shadows cheering us on. He was a constant and comfortable fixture. One whose absence would cut deep.

  Grief swept in and consumed me with a powerful force, so I covered my face with my hands and cried silent tears for a man who was more father than friend, praying he knew how much we loved and respected him before he died.

  Rage and grief were cousins, I realized. One came from a place of love while the other came from hate, but at their core, they were similar. They consumed a person fully until they burned out and left you empty. Fury for the person who ended the life of a man, who never hurt anyone, drowned out my grief. I would mourn Duke when his killer was behind bars. For now, I only cried tears of rage.

  Spear had told his men to keep searching in case we had read the situation wrong, but I could tell by his demeanor he wasn’t holding out hope. Since there was nothing more Logan could do until morning, when the light of day might give him more clues, we’d headed back to West Yellowstone for the night and grabbed a room at the nearest hotel.

  I listened to Logan’s low rumble in the outer room as he updated the mayor. After a minute of silence, I heard footfalls heading toward the bathroom. I expected Logan to knock before walking in, but he didn’t. Instead he opened the door and began stripping out of his clothes, his gaze assessing, not lustful, considering I was naked as the day I was born.