“Harlan, what happened? He hasn’t been shot has he?” Jade’s heart jumped into her throat, and then she thought about the graffiti scrawled down their house, “The Big Bad Wolf is going to blow your house up.”
“Someone put a small bomb under our porch.”
In the background, Jade could hear Carson correct his son in an overly loud voice, “Small? That fucker must have blown me twenty feet—my ears are still ringing!”
Jade drew in a grateful breath. If Carson had it together enough to be ornery, he would be fine. “So, he’s conscious?”
“Yeah, he’s conscious…but he’s got a leg full of shrapnel.”
“I’m on my way.” Jade shrugged into her jacket, and then realized, if she left, there would be no one to answer if a 911 call came in. Quickly, she dialed Nicolette, “I need you to come over right now and cover the phone here. I’m the only one in the office ’cause Rosie’s at the dentist, and the Winters just had a bomb go off under their porch. Tell your editor that it’s an emergency and your civic duty—you can bring your laptop and work here.”
The offices of the Gazette were only two doors down Broken Wheel’s main street, so it took Nicolette less than five minutes to get there. Her reporter tendencies kicked in the moment she arrived, though, and she started peppering Jade with a hundred questions without pausing. Jade went to the gun locker and took out a shotgun.
“Nicky, I don’t have time for this; I swear you can have the scoop after we figure out what’s going on.” She grabbed a box of shells, “Rosie will be back in an hour or so. Call me or Dougie on the radio if something terrible happens—your Dad and Tim are more than an hour away. The Volunteer Fire Department can deal with minor stuff.”
“Okay, I got it—cats stuck in trees and kids needing stitches, call the fire department. Any more acts of terrorism, call you or Dougie.”
“And I don’t want to hear the ‘T’ word—you’ll get people worked up in a panic. This might just be some nut who has a beef with the Winters.”
Nicolette smiled at her friend, “You know, you look like a total badass with that shotgun.”
“Let’s hope I don’t have to use it.”
“See you at the Crystal Spur tonight?” Nicolette inquired.
“Yeah,” Jade turned back from the door, a grim expression on her face, “But I might be wearing my uniform.”
***
“Whad’ya mean I can’t go home?” Carson looked ready to bite the head off the next person who told him something he didn’t want to hear. His bandaged left leg was propped up on pillows and he pulled at the hem of his hospital gown. “This thing is ridiculous, where are my jeans?”
Jade tried not to let Carson’s mulishness make her snippy. She took a deep breath, but before she could say anything, Harlan jumped in. He knew how to handle his father. “For one thing, Dad, the surgeon wants to keep an eye on you to make sure that he’s really got all the metal out and that nothing is getting infected. But if you’re in a rush, we could ask for an MRI and let those big magnets extract any leftovers.”
Carson wrinkled up his nose at Harlan, “Nobody likes a smartass.”
“And for another thing,” Jade added, “I can’t let either of you go back home until we can get a bomb dog and a handler out to the ranch—and someone who knows how to defuse the damn things if they find something. It’s not like we have any bomb techs on the Broken Wheel payroll.”
Carson grumbled under his breath, but he knew they were right. “Well, get busy then. I don’t need either one of you breathing down my neck.” He folded his arms across his chest to emphasize his point, but it was impossible for Carson to stay irritated for too long. A sly smile spread over his face as he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “It might interfere with my sponge bath.”
“Then I’m definitely out of here!” Jade tried to laugh, but the truth was, her stomach was roiling with anxiety. The pain meds were keeping Carson from fully appreciating just how close he’d come to losing a limb, or worse.
Harlan stood up from his chair at the side of the bed, “I’ll get a hotel room.”
Carson shook his head. “Where? Those W.O.L.F. people have all twelve rooms at the Hidden Springs Inn booked.”
“I’ll stay here in Jackson, then.”
Carson pulled at one ear, thinking. “No, you need to be close to the ranch and close to the investigation.” Suddenly, he lit up with an idea, “Don’t you have a guest room at your place, Jade? Harlan wouldn’t be any trouble for a night or two. He makes a mean western omelet.”
Jade forced herself to smile, but knew she probably looked like some shell-shocked clown. Inside, she was dying just a little, completely unsure how she felt about being at such close quarters with Harlan. Carson was right, Harlan would be the perfect house guest, but given the seesaw the two of them had been riding, it seemed, well, a little intimate.
Harlan didn’t say anything, which Jade could only interpret as meaning that he was in favor of the idea, but was too polite to force it on her. The only thing Jade could think to do at the moment was…agree, and then run like hell. “Well, uh…sure.”
Harlan shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clearly feeling under duress. “I—I don’t want to impose Jade, only if it’s not any trouble.” Harlan had finally found his tongue, but he, too, looked a little stunned.
“If you get back from the rodeo before I get home tonight, there’s a key under my mom’s ceramic frog by the front stoop. Sheets are clean on the bed in the guest room, there’s beer and juice in the fridge, and towels in the hall closet.” Jade recited the information automatically like a good hostess, trying not to dwell on any potential subtext.
“I, uh, I don’t think I’m going to be wrestling any steers tonight, Jade.”
“Make yourself at home then. I gotta go.” Jade bolted from the hospital room.
Once safely behind the wheel of the Bronco, Jade reviewed all the details of the incident that Harlan had given her while the doctor was extracting the shards from Carson’s leg. Bombs were used by two kinds of people, she thought. Terrorists and individuals with a personal grudge. If this was some kind of over-the-top environmental activism, why wasn’t it directed at people like Biggy and Frank who were bragging about torturing wolves, or at least at a guy like Mike Peters who’d shot a wolf out on his ranch during calving season? It almost made more sense for it to be the anti-wolf faction, trying to throw suspicion on the outsiders of W.O.L.F. to pressure them to leave town. Maybe the trap had been planted on the Winters’ side of the property line to make it look like they were secretly killing wolves, and thus provide a reason why the pro-wolf activists would go after Carson and Harlan. The more Jade thought about it, the more it looked like a complicated combination of political and personal; if the same person or group was responsible for the graffiti, the trap, and the bomb, they clearly didn’t care for the Winters.
On the way back to the Sheriff’s Department, Jade swung by Frank and Biggy’s garage, then Biggy’s house, but Biggy was still missing in action. It would be another hour or so before the bomb techs got to town, so she grabbed a sandwich from the local sub shop, and headed back to the department. To her surprise, Nicolette was still at the dispatch desk, and Nate Vanderville was standing nearby. Jade’s desk chair was spinning a little, though, which told her that Nate had hastily stood up from her desk.
Jade gave Nicolette a puzzled look, “Where’s Rosie? And what’s Nate doing here?”
“I’m reporting a crime, Deputy.” Nate gave Jade a salacious look—as if he was trying to seduce her into taking his side of something, before turning an admiring gaze on Nicolette. “And visiting the hottest journalist in town.”
Nate’s calculated charms clearly worked on Nicolette, and his duplicity made Jade want to smack him. She tried to control her voice to appear level and professional. “And what crime is that?”
“Someone slashed the tires on his car,” Nicolette answered, seeing that Jade wa
sn’t too pleased about Nate being there in her absence. “And Rosie’s procedure evolved into a root canal, so she’s going to be home the rest of the day.”
Jade turned back to Nate, “So, what were you doing at my desk?”
For an instant, Jade saw a flash of panic cross Nate’s face, then he carefully composed his features, “That’s your desk? I just grabbed a seat to talk to Nicolette.”
“Fifteen feet away—when there’s a chair right beside the dispatch desk?” Jade had no idea what Nate’s game was, but she had decided she didn’t like him on principle.
“I was on the phone with Mrs. Dean…some kids knocked over her mailbox again…” Nicolette looked a little guilty, like she knew that Nate had been up to something he shouldn’t.
“Mrs. Dean needs to sink her mailbox in some concrete, and Mr. Vanderville shouldn’t be snooping around other people’s stuff.” Jade was feeling irritated with Nate and Nicolette. “So who do you think slashed your tires?”
Nate shrugged his shoulders, “Isn’t that your job to figure out?”
“Not if you don’t help, it isn’t,” Jade huffed. “Sorry if slashed tires aren’t at the top of my priority list today, I’ve got a local citizen in the hospital because of a bomb.” She deliberately emphasized the word ‘local,’ as much to remind Nicolette where her loyalties should lie, as to reinforce Nate’s outsider status. She turned back to her friend, “Did you hear from your dad?”
Nicolette nodded, “Yeah, he and Tim should be back within the hour.”
“Good.” Jade grabbed a triplicate form and hastily scrawled Nate’s name, the date, and the complaint on it. She ripped off one copy and handed it to him perfunctorily, “Here’s the police report case number for your insurance adjustor. We’ll follow up as soon as we’re able, but now that your business here is finished, I’d like you to leave.”
Nicolette sulked a little, “He was going to bring me lunch.”
Jade picked up her paper-wrapped sandwich and dropped it in front of Nicolette, “Have a tuna sub.”
Nate put on a contrite expression, “Look, ladies, I’m not trying to cause any problems here.” He kissed Nicolette, “I’ll pick you up at seven.” He eyed Jade for a moment, as if sizing up an opponent. “I’ll hope you’ll join us at the Crystal Spur tonight. I think you might like me, if you just got to know me.” He squeezed Nicolette’s shoulders while simultaneously dropping his eyes to check out Jade’s breasts. “Right, Nicolette?”
Nicolette apologized for her friend, “Jade’s got a lot on her mind right now. Once you guys have a beer together, I’m sure you’ll get on great.” Her voice was hopeful as she spoke, but she couldn’t disguise the note of doubt that colored it, either.
As Nate left, Jade noticed he was wearing an absurdly expensive pair of hipster sneakers and not his Prada hiking boots. She thought of the footprint in the blood at the wolf trap, but said nothing.
A few moments later, an unfamiliar voice interrupted Jade’s ruminations. “Deputy Lundgren?”
She looked up and nodded. “You must be from the bomb squad, call me Jade.”
The new arrival gave her a friendly smile as he shook her hand, “Officer Gilbert Harkness, but everyone calls me Boomer.” He chuckled a little, “Original, huh?”
Jade laughed, “If the shoe fits, right?” Something about Boomer immediately instilled confidence in her, Jade thought, and it was more than the fact he had to be pushing six and a half feet tall. He seemed completely at ease in his own skin, with a calmly reassuring presence—probably excellent qualities for a guy who dealt with bombs.
“Susan Reynolds and her K-9, Wolfgang, from Wyoming Homeland Security are outside. I thought I’d ride with you and you can fill me in on the way to the site.”
“Sounds good—if you don’t mind riding in my dumpy vehicle.” Jade turned back to Nicolette, who looked uncomfortable. Neither of the friends liked leaving their silent tiff unresolved. Jade tried to patch things up a little, “Thanks for helping out today, I really appreciate it…and I’ll try to find time to socialize a little tonight.”
Nicolette brightened, “That would mean a lot to me, but…I understand if you have to work.”
Jade simply nodded, “See you later.”
***
Wolfgang alerted at the demolished porch, but after a thorough inspection in and around the house, barns, garage, and other out buildings on the Winters’ property, the wolfy-looking Wolfgang sat down with his tongue lolling out. Jade had kept Sargent on a leash just in case the two dogs didn’t like each other, but Wolfgang was trained to ignore other animals.
“Doesn’t look like there’s anything else here, can you think of any other places on the property that we should check?” Susan poured a bottle of water into a collapsible bowl for Wolfgang, who slurped it up noisily.
“No, I think you’ve been incredibly thorough.” Jade looked from Susan to Boomer and back to Susan again, “So…it’s okay to let the Winters come home?” Jade couldn’t help but think about her overnight houseguest…and how relieved she’d be to have an excuse to send Harlan home.
Boomer shook his head, “Not so fast. It’s going to take me at least the rest of the day to analyze the scene and collect evidence. Depending on how things go, I may need some time in the morning to finish up. Tell them they can come home tomorrow around noon.”
Sargent pushed against Jade’s leg and she scratched the old hound in his favorite spot behind the ears. “I’ll take Sargent with me, then, he’s a sensitive old pooch.”
Susan nodded appreciatively, and then a shadow crossed her face along with a thought. “Jade, who shares a property line with the Winters?”
Jade gestured around them, “Well, that way is BLM land, and over there’s a small dude ranch that does trail rides for tourists, and back that way…” Jade had to think a minute, “I guess the nearest property would be the Hidden Springs Inn.”
Boomer caught on to Susan’s line of thinking, “So, up on the BLM land, anything unusual going on? Any new people hanging around? Might not only be meth cookers hiding out in the nooks and crannies.”
An image of Conall pushing her shirt back off her bare shoulders rose up in Jade’s mind, and she tried to shove it back. There was no reason for Conall to be mixed up in any of this…except he had discovered the graffiti and the trap with the hurt Aussies. And then he’d been in a hurry to get back to his camp the day before the explosion. Jade wondered if her crush on the handsome biologist was tainting her judgment.
Reluctantly, Jade decided she should seek an objective opinion. “Well, there is this wildlife biologist who’s been camped out up there…he seems harmless.”
Boomer pressed her a little, “What do you know about him? Where’s he from? Who does he work for?”
“I—I don’t know who he works for, he’s…Irish.”
Susan’s eyes widened a little, “Well, the IRA certainly has bomb building experience; maybe he’s some kind of mercenary…explosions for hire.”
Suddenly Jade felt panicked. She hadn’t meant to implicate Conall in any way; she couldn’t believe that he would hurt anyone. But now she couldn’t exactly stuff the worms back into the can. Still, she tried to backpedal a little, “Shouldn’t we notify the BLM rangers before we go busting in on their turf?”
“Sure, we should place a courtesy call,” Susan agreed, “but Homeland Security trumps the BLM.”
Boomer looked at Jade sympathetically, “If the guy is legit, no harm, no foul. But won’t you feel better about your friends coming home if we eliminate him as a suspect?
Given that she already had a track record of making an ass of herself with Conall, Jade had to admit, it couldn’t possibly get any worse. It wasn’t like the guy was beating a path to her doorstep trying to ask her out.
When they pulled up at the old cabin that Conall had taken over, there didn’t seem to be anything unusual. A jeep was parked out front and a neat stack of split cordwood leaned against one wall. A dismantled tr
ap was piled in pieces on top of the woodpile, but Conall didn’t seem to be around.
Sargent poked his head out of the back window of the Bronco and seemed to get happily excited. Jade thought about Conall comforting the old dog the day the Aussies were hurt, and wondered if Sargent had picked up on Conall’s scent. Wolfgang also seemed to be a little worked up, and Susan seemed to think it was because he smelled something related to explosives. She got him out of her vehicle and gave him his command to start searching.
Jade paced a little, and Boomer picked up on her discomfort with the situation.
“Hey, it’s not like we need a search warrant—BLM land is Federal property and technically, you’re not supposed to occupy a space for more than fourteen days.” Boomer brushed the top of his crew cut with the flat of his hand. “Like I said, what’s the problem if he’s got nothing to hide?”
Jade stopped pacing, “Still seems a little weird to be doing this without Mr. O’Faolán here.”
“But I am here.”
Jade suppressed a startled squeak. Conall had an incredible way of appearing and disappearing. As she turned to the sound of his voice, she couldn’t help but appreciate how extraordinarily handsome he was. His dark hair was combed back from his face, putting the lines of his features into relief. His eyebrows knit a little as he studied the scene, moving toward them quickly, but without any sign of effort.
“Hello, Deputy Lundgren. I see you’ve brought friends.” Conall’s voice was controlled, neutral. He went to Sargent’s side of the Bronco and rubbed the dog’s protruding head, “At least someone seems happy to see me.” He looked at Jade pointedly.
Switching to her law enforcement mode, Jade introduced her colleagues, “This is Officer Harkness, with the regional bomb squad, and that’s Officer Reynolds and Wolfgang, from Homeland Security.”
“So I’m a terrorist, am I? Why do you people think every Irishman is pitching bombs?”
Broken Wheel Wolves: Boxed Set (The Complete Collection, Books 1-6) (Werewolf Romance - Paranormal Romance) Page 4
