Читать книгу Ranger Guardian - Angi Morgan - Страница 15

Chapter Six

“If I weren’t a mom, I’d be cussing like a sailor right now.” Kendall closed the office door behind her.

Jerry Fisher didn’t look up from the paperwork under his pen. “I put in the request as you asked. You must have known there was a possibility that your husband would continue on the task force until they could find an alternate. Do I need to file a furgle conflict of interest and pull you from the case? Oh, sorry. I forgot you’re offended by that word.”

The witty comeback she’d expected hadn’t come. Instead he’d deliberately used that stupid word. Her supervisor sounded...bothered. Shoot. She’d been using his listening abilities for her personal venting. That needed to stop.

The pen dropped to the desk, and he covered the papers with a file. Kendall plopped down in the lone chair near the bookshelf, emotionally exhausted. She’d only returned to the office to delay explaining to her mother why she looked like she hadn’t slept in a year.

Jerry leaned back in his chair, fingers locked casually behind his neck. “Look, if it’s too difficult to work with Murray, I can give this thing to Kilpatrick. It’ll die a quick death, and it won’t be your responsibility or be on your record.”

“Kilpatrick is two months away from retirement. He won’t take it seriously.” She could handle Heath and the investigation. If she couldn’t...well, she deserved to be reassigned.

“We both know this investigation isn’t going anywhere, Kendall. I spoke with my supervisor and the DC cybercrime group supervisor. They’re still not interested until your victims have monetary losses or receive extortion threats. It’s just not a priority for them.” He leaned forward, chatting like the friend he’d been when they’d first started out at the Bureau. More like he was doing her a favor by taking the case away.

Did he really believe she was wasting her time? Had he lost confidence in her ability? Or was her desire to crack a big case obscuring the reality that Public Exposure wasn’t one?

“We actually had a break this afternoon. The address of the complaint was being watched by two men.” She wouldn’t remind him that she could manage Heath.

The fact was that Jerry Fisher drank the Kool-Aid. He’d moved up to management. He was her boss. Bosses lived by the rules. Bosses wanted successful investigations. Bosses didn’t need to hear about personal problems.

If he needed results...well, that’s what she’d give him.

“Were you able to question them?” He picked up the pen and tapped both ends back and forth on the manila folder.

“We were in pursuit when they—No. No questioning, yet.” But the incident strengthened her resolve. She was on to something important. “I won’t take up any more of your time.”

“Furgle. I have time.” He gestured to the files on his desk. “Believe me, I’d rather be in the field with you again.”

“I bet.” She smiled, in spite of his using that stupid word...again. She left more determined than ever to break this case wide open.

Jerry wasn’t the only one who needed results. Climbing the FBI ladder had been her dream for as long as she could remember. She needed a big win in her column. Someday she wanted to be the agent in charge, the boss, the person others reported to.

But, honestly, she couldn’t remember why.

Did she want to be behind a desk making all the decisions without the full picture? Did she want to move and take Skylar Dawn away from her life here? And, more importantly, away from her father?

Like my mother did?

God, the realization stopped her in her tracks. That wasn’t the plan when their argument started. Well, marrying and having a child had never been a part of her life plan either. She rubbed her palms together as she continued down the hallway. She needed to reevaluate her life. The realization wasn’t a surprise. She just hadn’t admitted it to herself before this minute.

Even though she’d wanted to have the same evaluation talk with Heath, she hadn’t acknowledged it was exactly what she needed to do personally.

She needed more information about Public Exposure, which would mean a late night of research. But her first call was to the house. Her mother picked up Skylar Dawn from day care each day, but she always waited until Kendall got home before serving dinner.

“Mommy!” her daughter answered. She either could recognize the caller ID or knew it wasn’t six o’clock and time for Heath’s call.

“Hey, sweetheart. How did today go?”

“Bumble the rabbit died, Mommy. It’s so sad. I’ll miss her.”

“That is sad, honey. Is your class all right?”

“Yeah, Miss Darinda says it’s part of the circle of life. Like the lion movie.”

“That’s true.”

“I drew a picture. MiMi put it on the frigeator.”

“I’ll be sure to look at it when I get home.”

Skylar Dawn sighed long and very audibly into the receiver. “Working late again? My, my, my.”

Her daughter mimicked frequent sayings of the adults around her. This particular one was used by Naomi in an attempt to make Kendall feel guilty or ashamed. Kendall already felt both, since she’d be missing time at home.

“Yes, sweet pea. I’m working late, but I’ll be home in time to read a chapter from our book.”

“I could get Daddy to read it.”

God, she felt guilty enough without letting Heath know she was working late on a Monday. Tuesdays and Thursdays were normally spent in the office. That was Heath’s night at the house. For some stupid reason, she didn’t want him to know that the late hours were extending to other days of the week.

“I’ll be home in time. Can you get MiMi?”

“Love you, bye-bye.”

Maybe it was superwoman syndrome or imposter syndrome or some other syndrome working mothers had come up with. Whatever it was could be added to the list of things she needed to face and talk about with Heath.

Not Jerry. Not her mother. And not any other friend or coworker.

It was time she admitted she couldn’t do everything.

Right after she proved that Public Exposure wasn’t what they claimed.

* * *

HEATH’S PHONE ALARM SOUNDED. Five minutes until his six o’clock phone call. He swiped open the book, getting it ready to read for Skylar Dawn.

“Barlow residence.”

Naomi. Not the cheerful voice of his daughter.

“Evening, Naomi. May I speak with Skylar Dawn?”

“I’m sorry, Heath. She’s taking her bath. She got exceptionally dirty this afternoon hopping around like a bunny.” Naomi described the playful act with disgust.

“Is Kendall available, or is she in with her?”

“She’s not here tonight.”

“And after Skylar Dawn’s done?”

“Returning your call is not my responsibility, Heath.”

“Gotcha. She’s being punished for getting dirty.” He waited, but Naomi didn’t respond. “At least tell her I called?”

Again there was silence.

If Heath hung up, it would be the only part of the conversation repeated to Kendall. He kept the line open, waiting until his mother-in-law responded. In fact, he put the call on speaker and looked at the book.

He heard splashing and singing in the background. Naomi had returned to the bathroom.

“I can’t stay on the phone any longer. It’s time to wash her hair.” She disconnected.

“I think Naomi Barlow is in contention for the monster-in-law of the year award,” Wade Hamilton stated without looking across the office at Heath.

“Mind your own business. Wait. That’s impossible for you, right?”

“I was commiserating with you, man. I know what that phone call means to you.”

“You’re as bad as an old meddling matchmaker. Admit it. You’re the one who assigned me to Kendall’s task force.” He swiveled in his chair to face Wade.

No one else was in the office. He could speak freely. He had intended not to mention the conflict-of-interest part of his assignment. His anger was actually at his mother-in-law and the phone call. He should shut up. Keep it to himself—his general policy about everything these days.

Too late now.

Wade took a few seconds to smile like a cat skimming a bucket of milk still under the cow. Then he rolled his pen between his palms, shrugging his shoulders slightly.

“I’m not sure if I should slug you or thank you.”

“Hey, I’m just looking out for my own self-interests here,” Wade said, spinning back to his computer screen. “I’m tired of hearing Slate complain about your bad habits.”

“I have a few stories I could tell.”

He held up his hand. “God, no. I have no reason to listen to more. Instead, is there anything I can help you with?”

“Thanks, but no. I’m running some facial recognitions and backgrounds. Why aren’t you going home?”

Wade shrugged again. “I have my own demons to chase.”

Demons? Heath recognized barriers. Several months ago Wade had been brutally beaten, cracking ribs and almost losing an eye. He would have lost his life if it hadn’t been for a woman named Therese Ortis warning another company Ranger, Jack MacKinnon.

All traces of the woman had vaporized. Was she the demon Wade chased? Too late to ask. The conversation was over.

It was a good time to step outside and call Kendall. He left a message when she didn’t answer, then texted her to call when she was home so he could talk with Skylar Dawn. The light pollution around here didn’t block every star in the sky. He perched against the tailgate and just looked out.

There would be rain in the next couple of days. The color around the moon had changed. His mother had taught him that. He should take his daughter for a visit. Soon. But the nine-hour drive to Southwest Texas was hard enough when two parents shared the responsibilities.

That had been the excuse, and his parents had accepted it. The last real trip they’d taken to Alpine had slowed them down further with the horse trailer to pick up Jupitar and Stardust almost a year ago. When had life gotten out of hand?

The day I walked out of my house.

Needing a pep talk, he dialed. “Hey, Mom. How’s everything going?”

“It’s much the same. The baseball team looks to do pretty good this year. But you didn’t call to catch up on Sul Ross.”

“I don’t mind hearing about it.” And he didn’t. Just listening to his mom’s voice gave him a sense of inner calm.

“Are you still living...?”

“At the Thompson ranch? Yes. And no, I haven’t really talked to Kendall. Skylar Dawn is growing and getting more amazing every day. She made new paintings for everyone. I’ll get it in the mail this weekend.”

“No rodeo? No busting heads?”

He rubbed his bruised ribs but knew his mother referred to Kendall’s mom. “That was this past weekend. Okay, maybe it happened a little tonight, too.”

“Uh-huh. You’re going to kill yourself and make that woman very happy.”

He was pretty sure he wouldn’t drop dead, but the pain was a constant reminder that he might not have too many rodeo days left. Maybe he should focus on more rides with Skylar Dawn instead.

“Mom. We’ve talked about this. I need the money.” Yeah, he did. And one crack about his mother-in-law was all either of them was allowed.

The extra work he did around the ranch still didn’t repay the Thompsons what boarding his two horses would cost. He was determined to make up the difference and not accept a free ride.

“We could help you out, but you won’t let us.”

“You already have three full-time jobs. A professor at the university, a wife and a nurse to Dad. You’re the one who needs to slow down. I should be sending money to you. Is he okay?”

“Dad is still the same. He’s giving everyone what for, doesn’t remember doing it, then does it again.” She laughed. “I wish we could come see you, but breaking his routine is really hard.”

“I know, Mom. I should be there.”

“Nonsense. You have a very important job, a family and a wonderful daughter. Concentrate on those precious girls.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’ll call my grandbaby this weekend. You okay? I should get your daddy into bed soon.”

“Just that...I’m always better after talking to you.” His mother’s positive, can-do attitude poured out of her every sentence. “Love you.”

“I love you, too, son.”

Talking to at least one woman he loved gave him his second wind. He returned to his desk and began the computer searches he needed on Public Exposure. He wanted to know everything.

Making a substantial contribution in the morning would make it much harder to stop his involvement with the case. The last thing he wanted was for Kendall to play the conflict-of-interest card.

Wade finally went home.

It was too late to speak with his daughter. Too late to read to her. He had no reason to text his wife. Again.

“This can’t be right.” The addresses of the two drivers today weren’t only on the same street in Dallas—they were on the same block.

He looked up the owners—not them, a corporation. Now the digging got fun. So fun he didn’t notice the time until it was two in the morning.

Time to call it a night.

He had what he’d been searching for. A good, solid, old-fashioned lead.