Lawman Protection

“Take all the time you need. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

By the time she’d finished the coffee, showered and dressed, she felt she had a better grip on her emotions. Janey curled up on a pillow and watched as Emma brushed out her hair and completed her makeup. Unlike her mistress, the cat had seemed perfectly content with their temporary quarters. “I’ll agree the curmudgeonly captain has a certain charm,” Emma said as she slipped on a pair of gold hoop earrings. “I just haven’t decided if that makes up for the fact that he doesn’t approve of what I do for a living.” Though he’d probably never admit it, she was sure Graham still viewed journalists as his adversaries.

Janey followed her into the kitchen, where they found Graham serving up eggs and toast. “It’s nothing fancy,” he said, and set a plate in front of her.

“It looks great. Thanks.”

He refilled her coffee, then set a bowl of water and another of food on the floor by the sink. “I opened up one of the cans of cat food you brought over.”

Janey rubbed against his ankles, her purr audible across the room. “She never gets quite that enthusiastic when I feed her,” Emma said, amused.

“I get along with most animals.” He took the seat across from her.

“Just not most people,” she said.

The corners of his mouth quirked up in acknowledgment of the gibe. He had nice lips, full and expressive. Her memory flashed to the kiss they’d shared last night, before the threatening phone call had destroyed the mood. What would have happened if the phone hadn’t rung? Would she have spent the night in Graham’s bed? And then what? They weren’t exactly on the same side of things right now. Yes, she’d agreed to help him as much as she could, but she wasn’t naive enough to believe he’d be even half as open with her. She’d have to dig and fight for information as much as ever. It didn’t strike her as a good formula for a healthy relationship.

“Were you able to trace the call to my phone last night?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No luck. Anyone who watches television these days knows to use a cheap throwaway phone that can’t be traced. And if the caller really was the same person who shot at us yesterday afternoon, he’s a professional.”

“I still don’t get why I’m a target all of a sudden,” she said.

“What was in those notes that were stolen from your house?”

“Nothing that wasn’t in the articles I wrote.”

He took a bite of toast and crunched, a thoughtful look on his face. “You must take notes on some things that don’t make it into the articles,” he said after he’d swallowed.

“Oh sure—little details, background information—but nothing important.”

“Were the notes you took during the weeks you spent with Richard Prentice in those files?”

“They were. Along with notes for a lot of stories. Everything I’d managed to pull together about Lauren Starling and her disappearance was in the file on the table. But why would they take everything?”

“Because they weren’t certain what they were looking for? Or maybe they wanted to disguise their focus—take everything so it wouldn’t be obvious what they were really interested in.” He mopped egg from his plate with a triangle of toast and popped it into his mouth.

“It’s not as if taking my notes would stop me from writing a story,” she said. “I still have my memory, and my recorder—that was in my purse. I could even go back and interview people again.”

“What are you working on right now?” he asked.

“I have to turn in a piece about your press conference yesterday.”

He made a scoffing sound. “You couldn’t have gotten much out of that.”

“I’ll have a few inches of copy, by the time I lay out the background behind the conference—Senator Mattheson’s challenge and Richard Prentice’s lawsuit.”

“I can’t see anything threatening in a story like that.”

“I’m also providing background for a story on the plane crash and Bobby’s murder, though because of my relationship to him, my editor is assigning another reporter to write the main article.”

“Anything else?”

“I’m trying to find out everything I can about Lauren Starling and her disappearance.”

“If it is a disappearance.” He held up a hand to forestall the objection he must have known she’d have. “I’m not saying she isn’t legitimately missing—only that we don’t have proof of that yet. And she does have a history of erratic behavior.”

“She didn’t show up for work.”

“At a job where she was rumored to be on her way out.”

The sharp look he sent her told her he knew she’d underestimated him. “I guess you’ve been doing your homework,” she said.

“I have. And everyone on the team has been on the lookout for any sign of Ms. Starling. Despite what you may think, we are taking this very seriously.”

“That’s good to know,” she said. “And thank you for telling me. I know you didn’t have to.”

He nodded. “Back to the problem of whoever threatened you. Maybe there’s something in your notes that you don’t realize is important, but whoever took them does. Maybe something you noticed about Richard Prentice that he doesn’t want someone to find out.”

“Do you really think Richard Prentice is behind this, or is it just that the man has made himself such a thorn in your side?” she asked.

He stabbed at the last bite of egg on his plate. “I already told you, I don’t have any proof that he’s done anything wrong. I just have a feeling in my gut that he’s up to something.”

“Raul Meredes was operating near Prentice’s estate, wasn’t he?” The criminal with ties to a Mexican drug cartel had been killed while attempting to take a college student who was conducting research in the area hostage, but law enforcement officers at the scene swore they hadn’t fired the shot that had ended his life. He’d been done in by a sniper, who fled as soon as Meredes was dead. The task force had linked Meredes to the deaths of several illegal immigrants in the park, who they suspected were part of a marijuana-growing operation and human-trafficking ring operating on public lands. If he’d lived to testify, he might have identified the person in charge of the operation.

“He would have had to cross Prentice’s land to get to his operations,” Graham said. “I don’t believe for a minute that Prentice didn’t know what was going on. The man has guards and cameras all over that place.”

“Maybe he thought it wasn’t his responsibility to report it,” she said. “He’d say he shouldn’t have to do law enforcement’s job for them.”

“He would say that, wouldn’t he?” Graham’s face twisted in an expression of disgust.

“Even if you’re right and he’s responsible for the crimes you’re trying to control, why target me?” she asked. “I was with him for hours at a time for two weeks and he never showed the slightest hostility. And that was months ago. Why suddenly decide I’m a threat?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it has something to do with the pilot who died.”

“Bobby?” A dull pain centered in her chest at the memory of Bobby’s lifeless body slumped in the seat of his plane. “We were just friends. We’d get together to talk, mainly. It wasn’t anything serious.”

“Maybe Prentice doesn’t know that. He might have heard you two were dating and feared Bobby told you something he shouldn’t have. Like what that plane was carrying, and who the cargo was intended for.”

“What was the cargo?”

His expression grew wary. “We’re still looking into that.” He drank the last of his coffee. “If you’re done with breakfast, we’d better go. I need to get to work.”

“So do I.” She carried her plate and cup to the sink. “I can wash up.”

“Leave it. I have a woman who cleans for me. She’ll take care of them. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like, though.”

“No, I’ll head back to my place. I’m sure the police have finished there by now.”