An Officer and a Maverick

Russ had a career thanks to this man, who gave him a hand up at a low point in his life. He would always be grateful for that.

“I’m in,” he said simply. “I haven’t taken a vacation for at least two years, not since starting in Kalispell. Between that and personal days, I can give you a month of full-time work.” He thought for a moment. “If I stay here in town, folks might open up to me more easily than if I come and go.”

Gage nodded thoughtfully. “Strickland’s Boarding House might have a room, and if not, Lissa and I would be happy to put you up.”

“I’ll try Strickland’s.” Russ was reluctant to impose on the couple who hadn’t been married all that long.

“Good. Thanks, Russ. I owe you.”

“No. This might put us somewhere in the neighborhood of even for what you did to help me.” He cleared his throat. “So the working theory is that someone spiked the punch. That would suggest this person wanted to make a public statement to a good portion of the population. It’s personal, but not focused on a single individual.”

“Yeah.” Gage nodded.

“We have to consider whether or not someone has a grudge against the whole town.”

“Makes sense,” the sheriff agreed.

“A lot of different people drank that punch.” Russ was thinking out loud. He kept the reference general even though a picture of Lani Dalton popped into his mind, sassy and sexy and tipsy in her soaked sundress. “Business types. Ranchers. Young parents.” He was thinking about Claire and Levi Wyatt. “Finding a common thread between them all could be a challenge.”

“Especially for someone who isn’t familiar with the quirks and personalities of folks in this town.”

Russ knew that was directed at him and remembered Lani saying he was an outsider, although looking back, some of the nature of that talk could have been due to the effects of the spiked punch.

“Maybe it’s not a good idea for me to be the investigator on this. What if I handle the routine calls and you do the footwork, ask the questions? We can collaborate on what you find out.”

Gage thought for a moment then shook his head. “Some day-to-day situations here can get delicate, and knowing history and temperament can keep a small dustup from turning into a full-blown feud. I need a guy like you asking the questions. You’re trained to read between the lines, to look for connections that aren’t obvious. Not knowing people could be a plus. You might see things I’d miss.”

“Okay. I’ll do my best, poke around and find out what people saw. Surely not everyone was drunk off their butt that night. Who knows what they might have witnessed? And I have the impression that in this town, no one keeps anything to themselves for long.”

He remembered Lani saying as much to him when they were stuck in the cell. Well, not stuck so much as her making a fool out of him. She could have given him back the key at any time.

What was her game? Why did she sleep with him? Because she wanted to—or was there an ulterior motive?

“I just had an idea.” Gage snapped his fingers. “People do talk, and they do a good portion of that talking at the Ace in the Hole.”

“Okay.” Russ nodded. “I’ll chat up Rosey Traven. She’s the owner of the place.”

The sheriff didn’t look convinced. “Because she is the owner, she’s not necessarily interacting with the clientele. Someone who primarily works with the customers is a better option.”

“Good point. I’ve been in there from time to time, so I know a couple of the waitresses. Annie Kellerman and Liza Bradley.”

Russ had struck up conversations with both women. Each was pretty enough but they weren’t Lani. He deliberately stayed clear of her and that was smart, as it turned out. One conversation with her and they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

Gage shook his head. “Neither of them has been in town that long. I think you should start with Lani Dalton. She knows everyone and might have overheard something.”

Color Russ surprised. “Do I have to remind you that her behavior on the night in question was suspicious? You’re aware that she deliberately took my keys and hid them to take me out of commission.”

Gage laughed. “There were an awful lot of good, upstanding people who did weird things that night because of the spiked punch. She was a victim, too, don’t forget. Whatever her reasons, I’d bet my badge her intentions were not about breaking the law. She’s salt of the earth.” A gleam stole into the other man’s eyes. “Maybe she just had the hots for you, Russ, and wanted to get you alone to have her way with you.”

That was right on the mark, and Russ had to wonder which of them was the better detective. And, for the record, Lani didn’t have her way with him. He’d actually started it and was a willing and eager participant.

Russ couldn’t quite meet the other man’s gaze when he said, “She’s a piece of work.”

“Like the rest of her family,” Gage said. “But I can tell you that she’s never been in trouble.”

“I’ll have to take your word for that, Sheriff.”

“Then take it on this, too. Talk to Lani. Start the investigation with her.”

Russ stood up. “Is that an order?”

“It can be. But let’s call it gut instinct.”

“Okay, then. It’s your town. We’ll do it your way.”

And wasn’t this a fine mess. The moment he’d laid eyes on Lani he knew getting close to her would be borrowing trouble. The time had come to look trouble in her big, brown eyes and hope it didn’t expect to be paid back.

So, after months of avoiding her, his job was to talk to the woman he had no reason to trust. The hell of it was that the person he mistrusted the most was himself.

* * *

It was just about quitting time for most people in and around Rust Creek Falls, and sometimes they stopped by the Ace in the Hole. But it was Tuesday and Lani never knew how busy her shift would be. She was getting ready for whoever showed up, filling napkin holders and saltshakers at the booths and tables.

Glancing out the window she saw the hitching post, where cowboys could tie up their horses when they rode in. Lighted beer signs in the window signaled the type of establishment this was as did the oversize ace-of-hearts playing card that blinked in red neon.

The screen door had rusty hinges and screeched every time it was opened and worked just fine as a signal for alerting them that a customer had arrived. Behind her the bar ran the length of the wall and had stools in front of it. Anyone sitting there looked into a mirror mounted on the wall, where the bottles of liquor lined up in front of it were reflected. Booths ringed the outer wall and circular tables big enough for six surrounded the dance floor in the middle of the room. In a couple of hours the place could be jammed with people ready to shake off the stress of the workday. Or not.