Truth And Consequences

Maybe he should do that, too. He could keep drifting, forget his troubles and...try to find a normal life again.

But he wasn’t about to go anywhere until he knew Whitney was safe. Which was stupid, really. She was the one with a gun and a trained canine partner. She could certainly take care of herself, based on what Lucas had told him and based on what he’d seen here today. She might look like a cheerleader, but she was all business on the job.

According to Lucas, Whitney was stubborn and hugely independent. When they’d first met, Lucas had proudly explained that after a couple of years as a beat cop back in Tucson, Whitney had been accepted as part of a training program for K9 officers based here in Desert Valley. But he’d had concerns about the whole thing since he knew the work could be grueling and dangerous. They’d argued before he deployed, but after admitting that no one had stopped him from following his own path, Lucas had finally emailed Whitney and apologized, only to learn that she’d had to drop out of the program. David had no doubt that Lucas loved his sister.

“She had some trouble, but she’s gonna try again next spring,” Lucas had stated a few days before he’d been wounded. “That’s Whitney. She never gives up.”

Lucas had died a week later. That had been last summer.

It had taken David months to get here. After finishing his deployment and returning stateside, he’d fought against this quest. He hadn’t even been home to Texas yet, mainly because there wasn’t much left there for him. Now that he was here, he was pretty sure Whitney would be shocked and surprised that he’d followed through on a deathbed promise to her brother.

And yet he couldn’t leave her. He kept watching the shadows of her long ponytail, the silhouette of her moving through the train for one last search. He’d watched in amazement earlier as the sleek, powerful dog—a pointer, she’d told him—did just that, pointed near the seats where those two men had been. Hunter had stopped with his nose in the air, his tail lifted in statue-like stillness. Then he’d become agitated and aggressive, growling low while he pawed the floor by the seats.

After Whitney had encouraged Hunter to “Go find,” the big dog had sniffed and pawed. They’d found a package wrapped to look like a gift box that had slid under the seat when the bag had torn open. Obviously the two couriers hadn’t seen it when they’d dropped part of the duffel’s contents. But the lone package they’d left behind would create a lot more than birthday-party memories. Heroin. With a street value of hundreds of thousands of dollars per kilo, according to what he’d heard Whitney and some of the others discussing.

Hunter sniffed out a couple more spots, two sleeping car closets and two bathrooms. David heard Whitney telling one of the officers that drugs had obviously been transported in those areas, too, since he’d alerted on both.

“No telling how long they’ve been using this route,” she’d said to an older, distinguished-looking man she’d addressed as Chief Jones. “We’ll have to study the video cameras and the passenger manifest, too. Maybe pick up an image or establish a pattern.”

Now David looked up to find her walking toward him with another K9 officer she’d introduced as Ellen Foxcroft, a native of Desert Valley, and her K9 partner, Carly, a golden retriever specializing in tracking.

“Thanks,” Whitney said to her friend after they stopped by Ellen’s vehicle. “So we know based on Carly’s alert and Hawk’s detection of that dusty shoe print that they got into a vehicle here in the lot, as our witness reported.”

Ellen listened to Whitney and then glanced over at David and nodded. “And based on the partial plate your witness here was able to remember, we might be able to find that vehicle soon.” She nodded to David and then opened the door to her vehicle to let Carly inside the back. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Whitney. We’ll compare notes.”

Whitney agreed and then turned to give David a dark scowl, her blue eyes flashing aggravation. Aside from the frown on her pretty face, she looked kind of cute in her uniform. She was buff but she was also dainty, like a fragile flower. Only she was way too fierce to be a flower. One tough female. David’s heart beat an extra thump at the danger she had to put herself through in order to do her job.

Same as her brother.

“Why are you still here?” she asked, suspicion lacing the question. “We’ve cleared the scene, and I have to file an official report. I have your contact information. You’re free to go until we call you in to look at mug shots.”

“I’m waiting on you,” he said, thinking if he told her he’d stayed behind to keep an eye on her, she’d laugh in his face. David didn’t think right now would be a good time to explain that her late brother had sent him here.

“You really don’t need to worry about me,” she retorted. Glancing back at the train and then at her alert partner, she said, “We didn’t find anything else during that last sweep. But we dusted for prints on the seats where we found the one package, and we found some shoe prints, so maybe those clues will turn something up.”

David waited while she gave Hunter water and food from two tin buckets she had clipped inside his wire kennel in her police car.

“You did a good job, Hunter,” she mumbled in a sweet voice that tickled at David’s senses like butterfly wings. “Such a good boy.”

Hunter gave her a grateful stare and started gnawing on a rope throw that David guessed was his chew treat after each find. David gave her an appraising glance and realized how tough she was underneath that porcelain doll skin and sunshine-blond hair.

Satisfied, she turned to David. “Where are you headed?”

“I don’t know, honestly. I’m on some R & R right now, meandering around the West, taking in the sights. Maybe volunteering to help here and there. Thought I’d find a place nearby for the night.”

So I can stay near you for a while.

Her suspicions hit like sunspots all around him. “There’s a bed-and-breakfast in town. The Desert Rose, right off Desert Valley Drive. You might find a room there. Just until you decide which way you want to go.”

Then she gave him a no-nonsense stare. “Of course, you need to stick around anyway in case you can help us identify those two. I’ll talk to the chief and see if we need to call you in to the station tomorrow.”

He nodded, taking advantage of the intro. “Why not now? I can go to the station tonight since I’m in no hurry.”

She checked her watch. “We’ve put out a bulletin on any dark SUVs matching your description, but drug couriers are notorious for switching up vehicles or changing license plates. Look, it’s late, and I have to be somewhere. First thing tomorrow, okay? But if you remember anything before then, here’s my card.”

In spite of everything that had happened, David was almost glad he had a legitimate excuse to stay in town. He pocketed her business card, also grateful for the contact number.

“I did some searches online when I decided to take this trip. I found some information about the Desert Valley Clinic. One article mentioned the need for more funding and more doctors. They use volunteer doctors, physician’s assistants, and nurses for the free services they offer.” He’d have to sign a waiver to get a temporary license to practice at free clinics in the state. “Thought I might volunteer there while I’m here. Don’t want to get rusty.”

“And exactly why are you here when you could be anywhere in the world right now?” she asked, her eyes scanning the train again before she whipped her gaze back to him. “Because I’ve never heard of anyone wanting to spend downtime in Desert Valley or wanting to volunteer to work with Dr. Pennington.”

David braced himself and stored up her pointed notations for future reference. He’d have to be careful with this one. Whitney would keep digging until she had him figured out. “Well—”

But Whitney Godwin was no longer listening to him. She held up her finger and then, giving Hunter a silent command, drew her weapon and took off in a crouched run toward the empty train.

* * *

A man scurried toward the train like a lizard, his head down and his back hunched. He wore a burgundy hat and dark shades.

Whitney spotted him when she glanced back while talking with David. She’d have to figure out the medic’s angle and his story later. Right now, she intended to nab two criminals. With her gun drawn and Hunter waiting for her command as he trailed along, she hurried around the stopped train and looked up and down the tracks.

Nothing. No one. Had she only imagined seeing someone? No, she’d seen the man, and his description had fit the one David Evans and Mr. Gallagher had given her. She hadn’t slept much last night, but she wasn’t imagining things. Fatigue weighed on her like a blanket of dry heat, but she kept her cool and went on with doing her job. Being a rookie meant she always had to go the extra mile. Being a female police officer meant she had to work twice as hard as the men around her.

She checked the front of the stopped train again and then walked by the narrow openings between the four small passenger cars, and headed to the car where she and Hunter had found a kilo of heroin earlier.

“C’mon, Hunter,” she commanded. Hunter went in ahead of her, doing his job with practiced excitement. He sniffed and moved on, sniffed again, dug around some and then kept up the search.

Could one of these men have come back for the package they’d dropped? Or did they have more stashed elsewhere?

Thinking it was mighty bold of this one to creep back so soon after they’d taken off earlier, Whitney glanced around. They’d allowed the few passengers traveling west to get back on, but some of the passenger cars were still empty.

Easy for someone to slip in and hide.

Whitney moved behind Hunter up the aisle, careful to search every compartment and seat. When they didn’t find anything, she shook her head and wiped at the sweat dripping down her brow. It would be so nice to get home and have a long shower. But she had reports to file and other obligations to consider.

And one very good-looking medic hanging around for no good reason. Her suspicions regarding David Evans increased by the minute. His excuse for being here didn’t make sense to her practical way of thinking. And yet he’d put his own life on the line to help the injured attendant, and he’d cooperated fully with the police. He’d answered her questions without hesitation.

Maybe she was too tired to have any clear thoughts right now.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said to Hunter, her gut telling her the criminal was still lurking somewhere near the train.

They exited the train and she did one last sweep, checking between the sleek cars, looking underneath, turning toward the scraggly woods.

Then Hunter let out a guttural growl and stood staring at a spot at the end of the train.

“Go ahead,” Whitney commanded as she drew her gun and hurried down the side of the tracks near a copse of ponderosa pines, dry shrubs and chaparrals. A few spring wildflowers peeked out in bright orange and red, interspersed underneath a scraggly cactus bush, but she was interested only in seeing what Hunter wanted her to see.

Hunter took off, silent but steady, toward the scattered rocks and shrubs.