He couldn’t believe how grateful he was that she didn’t say anything. Didn’t even embrace him. Just let him hold her. Maybe she understood him better than he did himself. That wouldn’t be difficult. Coming in out of the cold, his self-inflicted need for solitude, was going to be every bit as hard as anything he’d ever done. And it scared him shitless.
He kissed the top of her head, released her, and headed for the door, all in one long motion.
When he was gone, Jori stood at the window and watched him maneuver his way on crutches through the snow back to the waiting trooper’s cruiser. The image of the weary warrior had never been more clear in every line of his body. Yet even in that weariness he reflected the primal masculine instinct of a survivor.
Jori turned from the window as the cruiser pulled away. She was living with her palm open. She hoped she hadn’t just watched love fly away.
*
Law rechecked all his facts on the screen at his Springdale desk. He’d been through every piece of intel until what had been staring him in the face finally began to make sense.
“Got the bastard.”
He ejected his thumb drive and reached automatically under his desk to tuck it into Sam’s vest. But Sam wasn’t there. The absence caused a pang just behind his rib cage. Damn. If he hadn’t gone and fallen for that shaggy Cheez Doodle after all.
He reached for his phone and dialed. The veterinarian’s office assured him, again, that Samantha was doing well. She’d drunk water by herself.
Law smiled. He’d have to get her a purple heart, no, a purple paw to sew on her vest to show she’d been wounded in the line of duty.
His smile dimmed as his thoughts turned to Jori. He’d have to do better than that for her. She had brought Sam along. She, too, was responsible for saving his and Becker’s lives.
His phone rang before he could reset it. “Battise.”
When he hung up he was smiling. The Pecker had come through. Spilled his guts to the task force detective in the hope of getting protective custody.
Law drummed his fingers on his desk. Change of plans. He didn’t have much time before matters were taken out of his hands. He’d played poker in the barracks to pass the time in Afghanistan. Not so much for the money, but to keep his wits sharp. He’d need to pull to an inside straight on this play, one of the toughest gambles. But he had nothing to lose. And he wanted very much to win something for Jori.
He picked up the phone and dialed Luke Tice’s home phone number. It was listed in the police reports. After what had happened in the wee hours of the morning, Tice wouldn’t dare ignore a call from state police headquarters.
“I’d like to speak with Luke Tice. Tell him Trooper Battise has a message for him from a mutual law enforcement officer friend. He’s probably seen the news reports. No, I’ll wait.”
He’d just about finished his cup of coffee when someone picked up. Waiting was the second thing law enforcement officers learned to do well. It gave your opponent a false sense of power.
“Yes?” Tice sounded tense.
“You want to talk to me. Today.” He gave an address and time and hung up. No way was he going to allow Luke Tice to get the upper hand again.
*
“Let’s keep this short and to the point.” Luke sat behind a desk at his empty campaign headquarters. Not even the media had sought him out in this weather. He was dressed in a heavy sweater and ski parka. “What did Becker tell you?”
“Not as much as I’ve discovered on my own this afternoon.” Law remained standing, having traded his girl-sized crutches for man-sized ones. And borrowed sweats for the uniform he kept at work for emergencies. “Trooper Becker seemed to think I’d pay for what he had on you.”
Luke smirked. “Which is nothing.”
Law smiled. An innocent man might have wanted to know what Becker could have said. Tice seemed to think he knew, and whatever Becker had couldn’t touch him.
“It took me a while to put it together. Brody Rogers didn’t have an accident.”
He paused to allow Tice to say something. But the politician seemed comfortable with silence. “It was the tire marks. No one thought anything of them at the time. Becker made certain of that.”
It was a micro expression of fear that Law would have missed had he not been watching for it. The hook was set. Now he was going to play Tice until the man wore himself out from avoiding the truth.
Law leaned an elbow on top of a tall file cabinet. “It was easy to understand why law enforcement ruled it an accidental death.”
“You mean because Brody was high on coke.” He made a dismissive gesture. “He was an idiot. I’m amazed he hadn’t killed himself before.”
“Yes, Mr. Tice. The fact that the first officer on the scene found evidence of illegal drugs gave that possibility the appearance of truth. Don’t know how much you know about law enforcement procedures. But the way in which the first responding officer handles a crime scene can direct how things go in the overall investigation.”
“You’re saying Becker mishandled the accident scene?” Luke looked smug. He had balls, Law gave him that.