Montana Standoff

by Sharon Dunn

  He trotted around to the side of the building, picked up a rock and smashed the glass on the side door. No alarm sounded. Bryan reached through the broken glass and unlatched the door. “Not exactly high security.”

  They stepped into what looked like a combination storage and break room. All it held was a Formica table with mismatched chairs, a coffeemaker and a shelf lined with canned goods, paper towels and boxes of fishing lures. They secured the door behind them as best they could, then with Bryan taking the lead, they walked into the darkened main part of the store.

  Sarah reached for the light switch. Bryan grabbed her hand and shook his head. Sarah’s gaze traveled to the large window at the front of the store.

  A percussive boom shattered the air as the glass in the window splintered into a thousand pieces spraying everywhere. Sarah screamed and dove to the floor.

  Bryan dragged her toward the protection of the checkout area. He kept one arm around her while he reached up to the top of the counter and pulled the phone down. “We can’t wait for the sheriff.” The beeps from him pressing the numbers seemed to come on top of each other. “Jake, how fast can you get to the bait store on River Road? I’m in some serious trouble here. Armed man on the perimeter. Bring extra firepower if you’ve got it....Good.”

  Sarah pressed her back against a cupboard. “Who was that?”

  “A friend. He lives close. He’ll get here faster than the cops.”

  “Why didn’t you call the police?”

  Bryan’s expression hardened. “They’ve got a pretty lousy track record so far today.”

  She grabbed Bryan’s shirt and glanced toward the broken window. “That guy knows we’re in here. We don’t have much time.”

  “Which is why we’re not staying in here.” Bryan opened and closed the drawers and cupboards on the checkout counter, clearly searching for something. “Sometimes they have a gun for protection.” He opened one more drawer before giving up. He looked at her. “Make a run for the back door. Open it as little as possible. I’ll be right behind you.”

  Questions raced through Sarah’s head—How would the friend find them if they left the store? Wasn’t there a risk that the friend would be shot, too?—but she knew it wasn’t the time to ask them.

  Sarah crawled toward the back door, reaching up to work the latch. She glanced back at the shattered window. The shooter wasn’t in view, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t see them leaving the store. He had to be hiding in the trees across the road. She eased the door open to a narrow slit and squeezed through. Bryan pressed close to her back as they made their way along the outside wall of the store.

  “Over there,” he whispered, pointing to one of the boats for rent. He scrambled toward it and lifted a corner of the canvas cover. “Get in.”

  When she came to the end of the boat, she saw that a shed concealed it from view of the trees where Acne Scars likely hid. Sarah crawled through and lay down on the bottom of the boat, positioning her feet underneath the seat. Bryan crawled in beside her, reaching up to move the canvas cover back into place.

  Lying on his side, he turned toward her and whispered, “Stay quiet. Jake’s car has a loud engine. We’ll hear it coming. We need to jump out and be ready to get in when he arrives.”

  She nodded, wondering when her heart rate would return to normal. She knew it wouldn’t be any time soon when he lay close enough for her to feel his breath on her cheek. She inhaled his faint musk scent and looked into his deep brown eyes. The minutes ticked by. She dared not move.

  A door slammed. She gasped. Bryan placed a calming hand on her shoulder. Footsteps crunched on gravel, growing closer. Every muscle in her body remained frozen. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears. Warmth radiated from her shoulder where Bryan’s hand remained.

  The footsteps passed by the boat and then stopped. She dared not take a breath. If Acne Scars tore the cover off the boat, they’d both be dead in an instant. A century went by before the footsteps resumed.

  Bryan squeezed her shoulder. She turned her head to see him better. For a long moment, they lay in silence facing each other. She used to think she could drown in the deep brown of his eyes.

  He motioned with his eyes. At first, she didn’t know what he was trying to say. Then she heard it, the distant rumble of an engine.

  This plan was fraught with risk. Was the killer lying in wait in the store? Had he returned to his post in the trees or had he assumed they’d run back into the forest and left altogether? There was no way to know.

  The engine noise became more distinct. Bryan reached up to flip back the cover. He lifted his head above the rim of the boat and then pulled himself out. She rolled toward the edge of the boat and sat up.

  “Hurry, we don’t have much time.”

  She jumped to the ground and followed him as he raced toward the shed, pressing his back against it. She leaned close to him, holding on to his muscular arm. The car engine sounded like it was on top of them.

  “Now, now.” He pulled her toward the parking lot. The car was still twenty yards away. The first rifle shot kicked up rocks in front of them. The car zoomed into the lot at a high speed, turning a hundred and eighty degrees. The second rifle shot hit the side view mirror.

  Bryan yanked open the back door, pulling Sarah ahead of him so she could get in first. A bullet hit the door as Bryan crawled inside. He slammed the door shut. The car stirred up gravel, swerved and sped down the road.

  FIVE

  By the time they had reached the outskirts of Discovery, Sarah’s heart rate had mostly returned to normal. Though she kept glancing over her shoulder expecting to be fired at, she could manage a deep breath.

  Bryan hadn’t said anything on the ride into town other than to ask her if she was okay and introduce her to Jake. They sat close together in the backseat, their shoulders touching. What they had been through left them both speechless though she found some comfort in having him close. Bryan seemed to take his own comfort from the handgun that rested on his thigh.

  As soon as they had gotten into the car, Jake had tossed it back to Bryan. Another gun sat on the front seat of the Dodge Charger. Bryan kept up a steady vigil of checking all the windows at intervals. From his actions, he too worried they would be attacked again. Even though she knew both of the men who had come after them were now on foot, the fear settled in her belly like a heavy rock.

  She’d almost died today. And all because of something Crew had done. Sarah closed her eyes and tried to make sense of it all, but nothing seemed to fit. Yes, her brother had been in trouble before, but she knew he had a good heart. How had he gotten mixed up with those thugs? She’d seen the level of violence these men were capable of. Her heart squeezed tight. What if the sheriff didn’t catch those men? What would they do to her brother when they found him? She had to get to Crew before those thugs did.

  Jake slowed the car as he came within the city limits. He was a burly man with salt-and-pepper hair. He dressed in army surplus fatigues and smelled like cigars. She guessed he might be in his mid-fifties.

  What kind of life did Bryan lead that he knew men who had access to guns at a moment’s notice?

  Bryan tensed as they drew nearer to the police station. Jake pulled into the parking lot, and they all exited the car.

  Bryan slapped Jake on the back as they gripped hands. “Thanks, you saved my life.”

  “That makes us about even,” said Jake. “You can take it from here?”

  Bryan raised a leery eye toward the police station. “I’ll be all right.”

  Jake got back into his car as Bryan escorted Sarah up the sidewalk. Sarah glanced back at the rough-looking man getting into his car. “So how do you know Jake?”

  “We worked together on a case when I came here. Then he took early retirement.”

  A case? She wanted to ask what case he
’d have worked on as a forest ranger, but the bitterness embedded in Bryan’s words indicated he didn’t want to tell her anything else.

  Inside the station, only a few officers sat at computers. A series of cupboards, some of them locked, took up one wall of the police station. At the far end of the long, narrow room was an office with a window. The sign on the door read Chief Sandoval. Radios and scanners buzzed on and off throughout the station.

  All of the men and the one woman working at their computers raised their head when Bryan stepped inside.

  The officer closest to the door said, “Hey, Bryan.”

  The greeting was neither friendly nor hostile.

  Bryan looked at one officer and then another. “Have you guys heard anything about what happened on Fire Mountain today?”

  “I picked some things up on the scanner,” said the female officer. “Don’t think County ever caught up with those guys.”

  Sarah cringed. That meant they were still out there. At least it was a long walk into town.

  Bryan rested a hand on her shoulder. “This is Sarah Langston. She’s the woman who was abducted and almost killed today. She needs to make a statement, and we’ll have her look at mug shots. She can identify her attackers and so can I.”

  “I’ll get right on that. Just give me a second to set things up.” The female officer scooted back her chair and disappeared around a corner.

  From the familiarity that Bryan had with the other officers, it was clear he had some sort of connection to the police. “So how does a guy in a fire tower have such a cozy relationship with the city police?”

  “I used to work here.” Bryan angled his head, not making eye contact. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

  Sarah stepped a little closer to him. “Used to?”

  His expression turned hard as granite. “It’s a long story.” His voice became thick with emotion. “And not one I want to tell.”

  Even though she knew his anger was over whatever had happened on the job, his retort stung—a reminder of a much more personal anger that he had directed at her ten years ago. When she’d found out she was pregnant, they’d gone to a pregnancy counseling center. Naomi’s Place had been warm and filled with love, a safe place for teens to live while they were pregnant. They both had agreed that giving up their little girl was the best choice for everyone. But after Bryan signed away his parental rights, he became sullen. His silent rage had made her feel like he blamed her for not wanting to keep their child. It didn’t make sense. They had made the decision together. They didn’t get a chance to talk things out. Instead, he left. His parents moved away shortly after.

  In the two years after Bryan left, she had been adopted by a loving family. The adoption had come too late for Crew, who was past eighteen and already descending into his life of crime, but it had helped cement Sarah’s resolve to take her life in a different direction. She too had left for college to get a degree in social work. She’d returned because she loved Discovery, because Crew and her adoptive parents were here, and maybe somewhere in the back of her mind she hoped Bryan would come back, as well.

  Now he was back. But whatever he’d been doing, the years had not been kind to Bryan Keyes. The vulnerable teenager she had known was lost to a man with an eight-foot wall around his heart. And she had no desire to try to climb over it.

  The female officer returned. “Why don’t you come this way? I’ve set up an interview room for you. It’ll be easier to concentrate in there.” She held out her hand. “I’m Officer O’Connor, but you can call me Bridget.”

  Sarah stepped toward Bridget. Fear rose up. She didn’t want to think about those two men. She glanced back at Bryan. “Can Bryan come with me?”

  The officer spoke gently. “I have to take your statements separately.”

  “It’ll be all right.” He reached out and squeezed her upper arm. “Bridget has a very gentle bedside interrogation technique.”

  His joke made her smile.

  Bridget opened a door labeled Interview Room One. “Right in here.”

  Sarah took in a deep breath. Tension wove around her chest at the prospect of having to relive the terror of the last few hours.

  And worst of all was her certainty that it still wasn’t over.

  * * *

  The look of vulnerability Bryan saw in Sarah’s eyes as she turned the corner nearly tore his heart out. She was still shaken, still afraid. If he could just hold her. He remembered the softness of her skin and the light floral scent of her hair. Heat rose up his neck. Even after ten years, the memory held a power over him.

  All the more reason for him to keep some distance between them now. He wouldn’t do her any favors if he got distracted by the past. Only by staying focused on the danger could he truly help her.

  He couldn’t make the interview any easier for her, but maybe he could make sure those guys didn’t come after her again. Once the thugs got back into town, Sarah would still be in danger unless Crew came forward.

  Bryan looked through the window where Chief Sandoval sat hunched over his desk. Overwhelmed with frustration as the case against Tyler Mason dissolved, his parting words to his boss weeks ago had been harsh.

  He understood why Sandoval had no desire to waste manpower and resources trying to find a new angle on the investigation. Mason did such a good job of playing the part of a fine upstanding businessman that most people fell for his act. Unless they could get another eyewitness to Mason’s human trafficking ring who could put the finger on Mason, they really didn’t have a case.

  A tightness embedded in Bryan’s chest as he walked toward Sandoval’s glass office. The older man raised his head and peered through the window, giving away nothing in his expression.

  Bryan tapped on the door.

  “Come in.”

  “Sir?”

  Sandoval leaned back in his chair. “Have you decided to put that badge back on, Officer Keyes?”

  Bryan shook his head. If his job wasn’t about getting justice, he wasn’t so sure it was a job he wanted.

  Sandoval’s chair creaked as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk. “Too bad, you’re a good officer.”

  The compliment warmed him. Whatever conflict they had had, Sandoval was a competent chief. “I need to talk to you about another matter.”

  Sandoval nodded. “Go ahead.”

  “There’s a woman in the interview room with Bridget right now. I witnessed two men try to kill her earlier today. I think her life is still in danger. She can identify them.”

  Sandoval straightened the papers on his desk. “So you think they will come for her again?”

  “They were pretty relentless up on the mountain. Can we set her up with some protection?”

  “Why were these men after her?” Not showing a high level of interest, Sandoval glanced at his computer monitor. “What does this relate to?”

  “They wanted to know the whereabouts of her brother.”

  “Is the brother a criminal?”

  Bryan was uncomfortable with the classification—the Crew he knew had been a good person, just on a bad path. “He has a history of drug use,” Bryan admitted.

  “So this might be about a bad debt or stolen drugs.” Sandoval seemed distracted as he rose from his chair and opened a file cabinet drawer.

  “We don’t know. My gut says it’s more serious than that. These guys were pretty persistent. Sarah’s not involved in drug culture—if they were going to kill her to send a message to her brother then it seems like more is at stake here than a simple debt.”

  “I can’t spare an officer to provide 24/7 protection, but I can send an extra patrol through her neighborhood at night. The dispatcher can be made aware if a call does come from her home.” He slammed the file drawer shut.

  That wouldn�
��t be enough to keep Sarah safe, but pressuring Sandoval would not be effective. “I appreciate that, sir.” He turned to go. If the department couldn’t protect Sarah, maybe he’d have to.

  He wandered back through the station. The female officer who had been with Sarah walked toward him holding a computer printout. “Thought you might want to look at this. These are the two men she identified.”

  Bryan studied the photographs. “Yeah. Those are the guys.” Something clicked in his brain, and he examined the picture of the short, skinny man a little closer. Earlier, they’d been a bit preoccupied with running for their lives. He hadn’t had time to think about who these men might be.

  “Smoke is coming out of your ears,” said Bridget.

  Bryan tapped the piece of paper. “Something about this guy is ringing a bell.” He looked up from the paper. “Where is Sarah, anyway?”

  “She’s reading through her statement so she can sign it.” Bridget poked him in the chest. “I’ll need to do a sit-down with you, too.”

  He stared at the printout. “Can we do it later?”

  “Sure, but I don’t want to wait too long.” She returned to her desk.

  Bryan gripped the corners of the computer-generated photograph. The skinny thug was connected to a previous case he’d worked. That had to be why the guy looked familiar. He’d seen him in another photograph. His brain clicked through the possibilities. Only one case had been the focus of his attention since he’d come back to Discovery.

  He peered around one of the carrels where a young officer with a buzz cut and thick eyebrows sat with a stack of papers in front of him.

  Bryan waved the printout. “Grant, do you know what they did with my old case files?”

  “They’re right where you left them. You only took a leave of absence—no one was going to pack away your stuff.”

  Bryan worked his way to the back of the station. A six-foot-high divider separated the detectives’ work area from the patrol officers’ desks. His desk had been swept clean of anything personal, but it looked like someone had bothered to keep the dust from collecting. After retrieving his work phone from a drawer and placing it on the charger, he opened a file drawer and pulled out three thick manila files. How much surveillance and how many thousands of photographs had he taken?