Necessary Action

by Julie Miller

  It was pouring by the time Duff reached the rendezvous point.

  A black pickup was parked with its lights off on the overgrown service road by the fire tower that had been abandoned in the era of satellite technology. It wasn’t noticeable unless someone knew to look for it. Duff shut off his ATV several yards back before approaching on foot.

  The canopy of leaves and branches added another layer of shadows and secrecy to the site where he’d met Matt Benton four times in the past twelve days. Agent Benton’s eyes must have adjusted to the darkness, because the truck door opened and he was pulling a black MBI ball cap on over his wheat-colored hair before Duff reached him.

  The agent extended his hand to greet Duff. “Watson. You sure picked a hell of a night to hand over evidence for the lab. Everything all right?”

  Duff nodded. Red-haired distractions aside, he was making progress on his investigation. “I confirmed that four handguns went out with a furniture shipment on Tuesday. All Glock 19s with the serial numbers sanded off. I marked one of them with an acid stain so we can track it. Nothing came in on the truck, though. Have you picked up any chatter from the bug I planted in Fiske’s office?”

  “The conversations are coming through loud and clear at our listening post, although we haven’t heard of any deals being made. Unless Fiske is talking in code.”

  Duff had considered that possibility, too. “He mentioned tourists chartering boats for guided fishing tours. Any chance those could be when the handoffs are being made?”

  “Those shipments hit KC and St. Louis about once every other month. I’m guessing a new shipment will arrive shortly for distribution if it’s not already here on the property.”

  Duff blinked away the moisture gathering on his eyelashes. “You got any other intel for me?”

  Benton tucked the plastic bags Duff gave him inside the jacket he wore, and pulled out his phone in the same fluid motion. “I’ve got info on the names you gave me. Bernie Jackson’s trucking business consists of two trucks—one driven by him, one by his brother-in-law. Everything looks legit, although it’s Jackson’s fifth try at starting his own company. Seems he’s always hurting for money.”

  “Money troubles could be motive for helping Fiske and Danvers move the merchandise into the city.”

  “Maybe he’s just a patsy and doesn’t know what he’s hauling for Fiske. We’ve got a forensic accountant looking into his records. I didn’t want to raise a red flag, though, until we’ve got more from your end.”

  “My guess is they use multiple routes and storage areas, not just Jackson.” Duff dried his fingers on his damp jeans before texting the pictures he’d taken of the Edwina to Benton’s phone. “Did you find anything on that missing guy I texted you about?”

  “Richard Lloyd?” Benton scrolled through the images on his phone to show Duff a couple of mug shots. “He’s in the system for the drunk-and-disorderly arrests you mentioned, but no felonies. He hasn’t popped up on legal warrants or traffic stops anywhere.” Benton shook off the water dripping from the bill of his cap and showed Duff an image of a newspaper photo. “I thought this was interesting, though. From the Falls City Weekly a year ago. Could be coincidence. But it’s not the kind I like.”

  The mix of thunder, wind and rain forced Duff to lean in so he could hear everything Matt was saying. He looked at the picture of Richard Lloyd, decked out in head to toe camouflage gear, sitting on a tree stump holding up the antlers of the elk he’d shot. It wasn’t the hunting prize that caught his attention, but the long wood stock of the Mauser rifle linked through the elbow of Lloyd’s arm. Duff’s blood boiled with the same anger he’d felt the day his grandfather had been shot. “The shooter at my sister’s wedding used a Mauser.” Did the fact that SueAnn’s brother had gone missing have anything to do with the gun smuggling or the assault on the Watson family? “Can you blow up this picture and get a serial number off that rifle?”

  Benton took his phone and returned it to his jacket. “The lab’s working on it. If we can confirm it’s an illegal firearm, and we can tie Lloyd to the Fiske Farm—”

  “Then all I have to do is find him.” SueAnn wouldn’t be thrilled to learn her brother might be involved in the farm’s illegal activities. But maybe it was time to talk to her and Daryl again to see what they could tell him about where Richard had gotten that rifle.

  “You two done chatting about your investigation?” The passenger door opened on the truck and Duff’s body tensed at the unexpected addition to their meeting. But his wariness rushed out with a smile as a tall, lanky man with dark brown hair climbed out, pushing his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose. “I assume time is of the essence here?”

  “Niall?” Duff reached out to shake his brother’s hand before pulling his middle brother in for a back-slapping hug. “What are you doing here?”

  “Agent Benton said you asked for a doctor. I volunteered. Which arm is it?”

  “The task force physician checked me out a week ago—gave me a shot of antibiotics.” Although he pulled up the edge of the poncho, Duff couldn’t resist poking fun at his ME brother. “I don’t know if I like the idea of someone who dissects dead bodies working on me.”

  As usual, his brainiac brother refused to take the bait. Niall pulled a penlight from his crime-lab jacket and lifted the bandage covering Duff’s wound. He prodded the tender skin for all of ten seconds before covering the cut again. “No signs of infection. Whoever put the stitches in did good work. They’re ready to come out, though.”

  Duff experienced a rush of pride at the compliment to her work that Melanie would never hear. “How are the wedding plans coming with you and Lucy? You haven’t scared her off yet, have you?”

  “We’re still on track for September, and we’ll be adopting Tommy right after. I’m assuming you’ll be done with this case by then? Every Watson is involved in the ceremony now.” There was no denying the smile that relaxed Niall’s stern countenance whenever he mentioned the spunky little brunette and the baby who had captured his heart. “Dad agreed to walk Lucy down the aisle. I’m counting on you to be the best man.”

  “I’ll be there.” Duff understood that, despite all their precautions, the longer the three of them were together, the greater chance they had of being discovered. But he was anxious to hear about his family. “How’s Grandpa? I expect that’s the real reason you’re here.”

  “He’s worried about you. Undercover is always a dangerous assignment. And once he heard you’d been in a knife fight...” Niall wiped the rain from his glasses before continuing. “I promised Dad and Grandpa I’d check on you personally. I’ll give them a good report.”

  Duff had asked his brothers, sister and father, all members of KCPD in one aspect or another, to help as couriers while he was on this assignment—keeping him posted on Seamus Watson’s recovery. “Is Grandpa getting any stronger?”

  “His speech is showing a little improvement—Keir’s fiancée, Kenna, has been working with him on that. But he’s still not mobile like he used to be. Jane won’t let Grandpa go anywhere without his walker.” Jane was the live-in nurse their father had hired to take care of Seamus. “She doesn’t want to risk him falling and reinjuring the muscles that are starting to regain strength. I know that’s making him a little crazy.”

  “I imagine...”

  Duff spun around at the soft squeak of waterlogged boots.

  “We’ve got company.” Matt Benton was reaching for his gun.

  But Duff had already spotted the red hair behind the scrub cedars on the far side of the fire tower. He put his hand on the agent’s arm, warning him to keep his weapon holstered, and turned to head off Melanie as she emerged from the trees. “Doc? What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Why are they calling you Watson? This man’s your brother and he’s an agent? What’s going on here?” She marched at them, her eyes
shooting daggers with every streak of lightning that flashed through the sky. Her voice was a blend of hurt and accusation that cut straight through him. “I thought you wanted to be the only thing in these woods who could kill someone. Both those men are armed. You lied to me, Mr. Watson. That’s the one thing I asked you not to do.”

  Duff turned to Matt and Niall before she reached them. “Go. I’ll handle this.”

  Niall was reluctant to retreat. “Did we just blow your cover?”

  He appreciated the show of support as much as he cursed his brother’s refusal to do as he’d ordered. He pushed Niall toward the truck. “Go. Now. If she’s out here, somebody else might be, too.”

  “Nobody followed me.”

  He ignored Melanie’s reassurance. “Give my love to Grandpa. Tell him I’m gonna get the guy who hurt him.” Matt Benton had already reached the truck. “Get me the answers I need.”

  Matt started the engine. “You’re good?”

  “I’m good.” Duff turned to Melanie, assessing how much she’d seen and heard by the temper coloring her neck. Plenty, it seemed. He had to do some serious damage control or this case would go sideways fast. He was peripherally aware of Matt turning the truck around and driving off into the night. “We need to talk.”

  “Now you want to be straight with me?”

  “We can’t stay here.” He peered into the shadows around them, wondering if anyone had followed Melanie as stealthily as she’d tracked him. “Are you alone?”

  “Of course, I’m alone. I’m always alone.”

  Duff got the accusation. She’d let him into her life, had formed a tenuous relationship with him, and now she felt betrayed. This alliance was going down the tubes fast. “I never meant to hurt you. If you weren’t so damn curious—”

  “This is my fault? You’re the liar.” She crossed her arms in front of her. “I’m not moving until you tell me the truth.”

  “I have my reasons...” None of them seemed good enough to justify the pain that darkened her eyes. Her baby-oil scent was intensified by the rain that drenched her hair and clothes and left nothing to his imagination where it hugged her shoulders and breasts. “You’re soaked to the skin.” Duff pulled his poncho off over his head and tried to wrap it around her.

  But she smacked the plastic to the ground. “I don’t need a raincoat. Who were those men?”

  “My brother, Niall, and Missouri Bureau of Investigation agent Matt Benton.”

  “Who are you?”

  He wasn’t lying his way out of this one. He wasn’t about to walk away from this assignment because another woman had blown his cover, either. “Are you on foot?”

  “I need a name. Not that I’m going to believe you.”

  Melanie was ready to verbally duke it out with him, but the argument couldn’t happen here. He clamped his hand over her arm and walked her into the woods toward the ATV, tightening his grip when she tried to squiggle out of his grasp.

  “Let go of me.”

  “We have to get out of here. I can’t have this location compromised.”

  “Fine.” She climbed onto the back of the ATV’s wet seat, hugging her arms around her middle. Was that for warmth? Or a wall she was determined to resurrect between them? “Let’s go someplace where we can have a private conversation. I think it’s time you told me the truth.”

  Chapter Nine

  “Be practical, Doc. I’m not the enemy here.” The rain soaked through the shoulders of Duff’s T-shirt, cooling his skin. Given her soggy state, Melanie had to be chilled to the bone. She fought him when he tried to give her his poncho a second time, but since he outweighed her by a good fifty pounds, he forced it over her head, anyway. “It’s not much, but it’ll warm you up.”

  “You’re stalling, Mr. Maynard or Watson or whoever you are.” She tugged her hair free of the hood. Its wet, heavy weight slapped against the back of the plastic poncho. “Let’s go.”

  Duff climbed on in front of her and started the engine. “You’ll have to hold on to me.” She muttered something that wasn’t very ladylike before her fingers curled around the sides of his waist. Her grip tightened when the ATV lurched forward, but he could feel the rain hitting his back as she held her body stiffly away from his. After traveling about half a mile to slightly smoother terrain, he slowed the four-wheeler and glanced back over his shoulder. He raised his voice over the noise of the engine. “You were at the lake, weren’t you? How long have you been following me?”

  “I saw you sneak away from the compound. I thought we could talk some more. About us.” He felt a punch of guilt right in his gut. “There is no us happening, is there?” She sounded a little less angry, but the resignation he heard in her tone worried him. He’d never intended to hurt her. He’d never intended to care about hurting her. “Instead, I find you investigating Dad’s boat without me and meeting with two men I’ve never seen before. You were using me to get closer to Henry.”

  “I don’t care about your uncle right now. And I wasn’t sneaking. I leave every night for my security patrol.” He turned onto the path leading down to the old dock. “I’ve covered over five miles tonight. How did you find me?”

  “I know all the shortcuts and hidey-holes around these hills. That fallen tree at the edge of the woods is hollow. I crawled into it while you were looking at the boat. Then I tracked the sound of the ATV. Once I knew you were heading north, I followed the creek bed. It’s a straighter shot than the path you took.” A streak of lightning lit up the sky, and he felt her jump at the answering clap of thunder. When she scooted a little closer, squeezing her thighs around his hips, he didn’t mind. The physical connection between them seemed to be about the only way he could reach her. “Henry knows all the shortcuts, too, by the way.”

  That didn’t bode well for maintaining his invisibility in these woods. “Does Silas?”

  “Some. But I’ve known these hills years longer than he has. Plus, he’s lazy. If he can’t drive or ride his way to his destination, he sends someone else. He’s not willing to cross Falls Creek, especially when it rains like this. Henry can barely get him onto the dock when they’re loading or unloading the fishing boats.”

  “Sounds like he can’t swim.”

  “Sounds like you’re avoiding my questions.” They hit a tree root that threw her against him, but she quickly scooted back to keep those few inches of distance between them. “Are you working for Henry? Buying off another cop like Sterling Cobb to cover up his secrets?”

  Duff swiped the moisture off his face before steering the ATV toward the lake’s edge. “I’m one of the good guys, Doc, even though, technically, I am a liar.”

  “At least you admit it.”

  “I’m part of a task force investigating the smuggling of illegal guns into Kansas City. We believe someone on your uncle’s farm, if not Henry himself, is behind the gun trafficking.”

  She was silent long enough that he wondered if she’d heard him over the growl of the engine. But then she asked, “Guns? That’s why you asked about the rifle part I found.”

  “That’s why I was taking pictures of your dad’s boat. Those refitted storage wells are a perfect hiding place to stash weapons until they can be shipped out.”

  “You think the guns are coming through here?”

  “I know they are. I loaded a box of handguns onto Bernie Jackson’s truck. The box was sealed, but I’m nosy that way.”

  Instead of defending her uncle or the place where she’d grown up, he felt a heavy sigh against the back of his neck. “That would explain a lot. I thought the secrets all had to do with Dad. But if Henry’s doing something illegal... No wonder he’s paranoid about keeping people he can control here.” Duff pulled up beside the Edwina. He killed the engine and climbed off so he could face her.

  “So you believe me?”

  L
ightning illuminated the clouds, followed by a thunderclap. Melanie huddled inside the poncho and snapped her gaze up into the sky. “You do know a clearing where there’s water is probably the last place we should be in this storm?”

  “The fiberglass hull won’t conduct electricity. Right, Nature Girl?”

  “Really? Another nickname?” But she nodded. “Only in salt water. Dad said it’s the salt clinging to the hull that’s actually conducting the electricity. This is a freshwater lake. We should be safe.”

  “I knew you’d have the answer. Come on. I’m tired of getting wet.” He held out a hand he hoped she would take. He could tell by the tilt of her eyes that she was deciding whether or not to accept the amends he was trying to make. The next clap of thunder hastened her decision. She linked her hand with his and he led her to the upturned boat to take shelter beneath the gunwale. They weren’t completely out of the elements, but the fiberglass frame protected them from the wind and the worst of the deluge. With his back against what was once the bottom of the boat, he sat on the edge of the storage well and pulled her onto his lap. “I need you to listen to me.”

  “I get it. You’re some kind of spy. That’s why you wanted to be my friend. You need me to get close to Henry or you think I know something about those guns. I don’t.” She leaned back against his chest, draping the poncho over both of them. “I understand the need to lie when you’re working undercover. But friendship wasn’t enough? Why did you pretend you were interested in something more?”

  “Because I am interested in something more.” Duff’s arms snuck around her waist before he realized she was snuggling closer out of practicality, not because she’d forgiven him. With that sweet baby scent of her wet hair filling up his nose, he had to close his eyes against the desire to nuzzle the shell of her ear. “I’m not a spy. I’m a Kansas City cop. You can’t tell anyone who I really am or why I’m here.” The irony of what he was about to ask wasn’t lost on him. “Can I trust you to keep my secret?”