Special Agent

by Valerie Hansen

  His conscience demanded he take Katerina’s side and stand up for her. She was young. That was a given. And she had been terribly spoiled by her father before being ostracized. How awful that must feel. Her whole world had crashed around her, somebody was trying to kill her, the man she had loved had been murdered, and thugs were stalking her for a prize that might never be located.

  Pausing, he took a deep breath and visualized Katerina’s beautiful eyes and bright smile. Most people would have felt beaten down and have given up, yet she had not. On the contrary, she had bounced back every time, she had opened up to him about her faith. It was solid. Reliable. And by comparison, so was she.

  A horn honked. Engines revved. Max saw the procession start to move. Out of time to reach them and inspect each vehicle, he stood aside with Opal and let them slowly pass by. Her stiff posture and intense concentration told him she knew she was still working.

  Suddenly she lunged. Barked in spite of her training to remain calm when detecting telltale odors.

  Max held up a hand and stepped forward to halt the progress of the antique Packard convertible. Ranch foreman Heath McCabe was driving. Sitting on the rear deck, dressed like a country-western singer, was Bertrand Garwood. He waved Max back. “Out of our way.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Mayor. My dog insists I check your car before you proceed.”

  “Bah. Ridiculous. Where’s my...that young woman who is determined to ruin me?”

  “Katerina’s not here. And I assure you I am only listening to my detection dog. Now, do you want to let us go over the car the easy way, or do you want to wait for a search warrant and maybe be blown to smithereens in the meantime?”

  As Max had figured, the older man spoke to McCabe and had the convertible pulled out of line.

  “This won’t take long. If you’ll both get out, please, I’ll let my dog do her job.”

  Garwood was fuming. “This had better not turn out to be some cooked-up false alarm or I’ll have your badge.”

  If Max had not been so intent on watching Opal he might have laughed. There had been more than one time when he’d have gladly handed over his badge if it had meant he wouldn’t have to worry about making another deadly mistake.

  “Open the trunk, please.”

  McCabe took the keys from the ignition and handed them to Max. “Not me, man. I like livin’.”

  “Are you saying there’s an explosive device in the trunk?”

  “Nope. But I ain’t arguing with your dog, either. If she says it’s dangerous, I believe her.”

  “Actually...” Max led Opal around the idling vehicle one more time. She showed some interest in the trunk but not enough to cause him to call a bomb squad. Using a key he popped the lock and lifted the lid.

  “Spare tire, jack, jumper cables...all the usual stuff. Looks like we’re okay here.”

  “What about the undercarriage?” McCabe asked.

  “Opal isn’t interested in the chassis at all.” He started to close the trunk. Opal put her front feet up on the bumper and barked.

  Max halted, then picked up the jack handle and used it to gingerly move lightweight items. When he speared a dirty rag and moved it, Opal got very excited.

  “This?” he asked, holding it out for her to sniff.

  The dog went ballistic.

  “This? You want this?” Double-checking, he redirected her attention to the car’s trunk. She showed zero interest in it. Fixated on the rag she wiggled at his feet.

  “Well, well.” Max looked to Bertrand. “Where did you get this car, Mr. Garwood?”

  “It belongs to me. I only bring it out of storage for parades and such. Why?”

  “Because my dog has picked up the odor of an explosive compound on this dirty rag. There’s no bomb in your car but somebody who used this rag came in contact with components.”

  “Well, she’s dead wrong. That’s the cloth I used this morning to shine the chrome,” Bertrand grumbled. “Now, if you’re through harassing me, I need to get moving. I’m the parade grand marshal, you know.”

  Max stepped aside. “Fine by me. Have a nice day.”

  As the classic Packard pulled away, Max slid the soiled rag into a plastic evidence bag, sealed it and slipped it back in his pocket. If the lab at Quantico could pick out DNA from more than one donor, Garwood might be off the hook. If not, the man had just foolishly admitted to having touched explosives.

  Was he vindictive enough to attack his own daughter? Max wondered. He hated to think that but the evidence spoke for itself. Unless there were traces from others on the rag, they may have found their source for at least some of the bombings.

  Which brought him back to square one. Components from all but the ranch bomb matched those from other states besides California. Therefore, it was still quite possible that the Duprees’ men had bombed the Miner’s Grub diner and had probably left the set in the blue trash barrel.

  Had Garwood damaged his own stable? The fact that the horses had all been moved out beforehand made it a distinct possibility. But why? Had he known that Katerina was coming back to get her belongings that day?

  Max took a deep breath and praised Opal, then put her to work checking all the other floats and cars while he puzzled over the ranch owner’s eagerness to admit using the rag. The man wasn’t stupid. Why would he incriminate himself when he could have denied knowledge of anything in the trunk? Did he assume law enforcement wouldn’t put two and two together? Or was he so sure of his personal connections to the sheriff that he figured he’d never be charged?

  That thought settled in the pit of Max’s stomach like a sack of placer mine tailings left over from gold mining with water. If he and his team had to arrest Bertrand Garwood, he figured he could quit worrying about his unacceptable feelings for Katerina. She’d never speak to him again.

  THIRTEEN

  Reluctant to intrude when her father was talking to Max, Katerina waited until he returned to the picnic area with Opal before she approached. “Did you find something odd in Dad’s car? I figured it wasn’t dangerous when you let him drive on.”

  “I’m going to send a polishing cloth to the lab to confirm Opal’s opinion of it.”

  “She makes mistakes? I thought trained K-9 cops were infallible.”

  “Nothing is one hundred percent. It’s possible that a solvent in metal polish smells like something Opal’s been trained to key in on. The only thing I am sure of is that the little package we found in the bottom of the trash barrel was a bomb. Whether it was set to go off at a certain time or has an electronic detonator is unknown.” He released a breath, then went on. “The sheriff didn’t want to hold up the festivities so we decided to send it to the town dump and leave it there, under guard. It should be okay until we can get some experts to dismantle it or set it off.”

  Katerina kept clasping and unclasping her fingers. “This is unbelievable. I mean, no matter what Vern did or didn’t do, there’s no reason for some distant crime family to target this little town.” Wide blue eyes met Max’s. “How long is this going to go on? Will we ever get back to normal again?”

  She desperately craved solace. Moral support. The sense that someone was there for her. The night that Kyle had entered her hotel room and she’d been so frightened, Max had been her anchor, her comforter. Right now, right here, she was in dire need of a replay.

  It seemed wrong to pray for affection so she merely stood still and waited to see what he’d do. Could he sense her neediness? Did he know how disconnected she felt? He must. Whether he was willing to admit it or not, they had an almost tangible emotional connection.

  Max stepped near and laid his hand on her arm. “It’ll be all right, Katerina. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but things will get better. Trust me. Every time we have an incident and collect more clues we come that much closer to solving th
is and ending it.”

  “Do you? The more I learn, the worse it seems.”

  He moved from the light touch to encircling her shoulders with his free arm and giving her a quick squeeze. “There are a lot of interconnected crimes and suspects that we have to round up before we’ll know enough to totally shut down the Duprees. I imagine you saw on the news that various government agencies formed a task force to break up their organization by arresting the big bosses.”

  “I remember hearing something like that a few months back. I never dreamed you’d still be chasing them.”

  “One of the big fish got away. He wasn’t first in command but he’s bad enough. Angus Dupree is the uncle of Reginald, the head of the organization. Reginald is cooling his heels and awaiting trial along with many of his underlings. We’d love to add his uncle Angus to the docket but he’s currently on the run. Unfortunately, so is one of our key witnesses.”

  "You mean the guy who ran when you were in Billings?

  “No, a different one. A woman. The question of who fled from Potter's house should be answered as soon as we get back some results of the DNA samples we gathered from the house.

  "What about the mother and baby? Are they all right?"

  "We don't know yet. One of my agents, Harper Prentiss, thought she smelled a familiar aftershave in the bathroom at the Potter home but there's nothing positive.”

  “Oh.” Katerina tried to hide her surprise. “Some of your teammates are women?”

  “Uh-huh. They make great handlers. A lot of K-9 trainers are female, too.”

  She knew her cheeks were reddening because they felt awfully warm. “That never crossed my mind.”

  Leaning closer, Max tilted his head to one side and smiled. “Are you jealous?”

  Her “Of course not!” was too quick, too high-pitched to be normal and she could tell from his broadening grin that he knew she was flustered.

  “I thought you never lied,” Max tsked.

  “I don’t. I—I...”

  He laughed heartily. “I get it. We all tell fibs from time to time to save face or be kind, and don’t think anything of it.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” Sweeping her hair back from her face with her fingers she tucked it behind her ears. “My, it’s hot out today.”

  “California in the summer. What did you expect?”

  Relieved to have been given a plausible reason for her flushed cheeks she agreed. “Right. I hope it’s not too hard on Opal. Does she have to wear that vest all day?”

  “It’s bulletproof,” Max explained. “If she did accidentally set off an explosion the Kevlar might not be enough to save her but it’s all the protection I can give her, other than staying out of harm’s way as much as possible.”

  “I suppose K-9 officers do get wounded, just like human ones. I’d never thought of that before. It’s sad.”

  “Any loss of life is.”

  Judging by the way he had stopped smiling and set his jaw, she realized she’d triggered a painful memory. Curiosity made her ask, “Would you like to talk about it?”

  “We already did,” Max said curtly.

  “Ah, the family with the child. I remember.” Forgetting her pride she reached out to him, touched his hand. “Things like that stay with us forever. I know that. I just wish I could give you peace about it.”

  “You can’t.”

  Gently, lovingly, Katerina said, “I know. Only God can.” However, Max had to be willing to accept it, she added to herself. Just as she needed to come to terms with the betrayal of those she loved, Max had to forgive himself—and God. Once, he had trusted his heavenly Father with his life, then had begun to question the turn of events and want to place blame. That was as natural as breathing. And holding a grudge was as destructive as holding his breath. Something had to give or it would do permanent damage.

  Gazing into the depths of his piercing blue eyes she sensed a strong connection, as if he were reading her thoughts and knew she was seeing his raw pain, was pulling some of it into her own heart and sharing the struggle.

  She had no adequate words, no healing platitudes. Katerina merely stepped closer, slipped one arm around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder. Whether Max realized it or not, she was telling him she cared. She understood.

  Her heart sped as logic flew out the window and she admitted one more thing. She was also falling in love with him.

  * * *

  Max didn’t know how to react to her empathy. He didn’t want to hurt Katerina’s feelings, but he also couldn’t afford to present a weak image. His job had to come first, at least outwardly. But what he really wanted to do was pull her closer and tilt her chin up so he could kiss her.

  He would not act on his urge, of course. That would be totally out of character for an FBI agent on duty. Instead, he stepped away. “I thought you wanted to watch the parade.”

  “Only if that’s what you’re going to do.”

  Nodding, Max agreed. “It makes sense. You may spot Kyle in the crowd and can point him out to me.”

  She shivered. “I hope I don’t.”

  “You should be hoping that you do,” Max countered. “Without his fingerprints or DNA it’s going to be difficult to locate him.”

  “I know. I have been watching, but mostly because he sounded so determined when he came to the diner. I trust the Lord. I do. I just figure He gave me a brain to use for something besides a place to hang a hat.”

  “Well put.” Max had to chuckle. “You do have a way with words.”

  “English was going to be my major in college before I decided to become a horse trainer.”

  Starting off, he paced himself to match Katerina. “What are your plans now?”

  She huffed. “You mean besides staying alive? Beats me. I’d like to go back to working at the ranch. Since that’s not going to happen, I guess I’ll do whatever I have to, to survive. A girl has to eat.”

  “Maybe you need a pet. Have you thought about getting a watchdog when you move out of the hotel?”

  “Another mouth to feed? Not really, although that isn’t a bad idea. Not a pup, though. I wouldn’t be able to train it while I’m at work.” She began to smile wistfully. “I’d ask to adopt that black lab from the ranch if she hadn’t recently had a litter. She’s sweet and sensible. And not hyper like your Opal.”

  “I prefer to call it enthusiasm,” Max said with a lopsided smile. “I’d give serious consideration to getting a watchdog if I were you.”

  “Why do I need a dog when I have you?” Her eyes twinkled and made him grin until he recalled the parameters of his mission.

  “I won’t be here much longer,” Max warned roughly. “I’ve already told you that.”

  “Yeah, I know. I was just teasing. First I have to find a new apartment or talk my former landlord into fixing up the place that was trashed. I actually haven’t wanted to think that far ahead.”

  “Well, you should.”

  They had traveled the length of Park Street and were approaching Main again. Crowds thickened. Opal stayed close to her partner’s left with Katerina on the right. The first few floats had already passed.

  “Here comes Dad.”

  “I see him. And the deputies the sheriff promised as escorts. Everything looks good.”

  Although he kept scanning the boisterous crowd he was fully aware of the woman beside him. How could he not be? She was making him crazy. Strong and resilient like a warrior and yet soft and gentle as a kitten, she was so close they were almost touching. And almost was not enough for him. Not nearly enough. All he’d have to do was lift his arm and it would be around her waist or her shoulders. Katerina had not objected before. He was sure she wouldn’t this time, either.

  Just as he started to act on the whim she gasped and pointed. “There!
Across the street in front of the florist’s. See the scruffy-looking guy with the black T-shirt?”

  “The one behind the woman with the stroller?”

  “Yes! That’s Kyle. I know it is.”

  Max reached for his radio and called in their position. “I’m going to be in foot pursuit. Send somebody to watch Katerina. She’s right across Main from the florist shop.” He eyed her. “She’s going to wait here.”

  “I am not.”

  “Yes, you are. I don’t want to have to worry about you while I’m taking a prisoner into custody.”

  “But...”

  He gave her his most severe stare. “Do it.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  That was good enough for Max. As soon as he spotted the uniform of a deputy coming their way he shouldered through the line of revelers along the curb and jogged across the street. The high school band was marching by and he zigzagged between trumpeters and drummers.

  One quick glance ahead told him that his quarry had noticed him and was on the run. So, it was a positive ID. Perfect. The sooner he captured Katerina’s stalker and got him to talk, the sooner they could tie up at least a portion of the case. Kyle was the key. Kyle, and the diamonds the Duprees wanted badly enough to kill for.

  * * *

  Katerina stood on tiptoe to watch Max go. One hand shaded her eyes. If she hadn’t wanted so desperately to please him she would have broken her coerced promise and followed, although discretely.

  If anyone had asked her which marchers had passed since Max’s departure she couldn’t have said. All she cared about was keeping him in sight. That soon proved impossible. One foot on the base of a lamppost raised her higher and gave her a last glimpse before he passed out of view.

  Sighing and resigned to the wait, she let herself down and leaned against the post. An emptiness she had not felt before was impossible to deny. If the sense of loss was this overwhelming just watching him cross the street, what was it going to be like when she had to bid him a final goodbye?

  The thought of never seeing Max again settled in her heart and mind to steal any semblance of hope. Of joy. Pride would not let her throw herself at him, particularly when he kept reminding her his presence here in South Fork was temporary. So unless he expressed affection toward her, she was going to have to stand there and hold back her tears as she watched him leave for good.