Page 26 of Dusty
Even though she didn’t believe it.
CHAPTER TEN
An eerie quietfilled the sheriff’s station, Dusty being the only one there this early. He’d come in a couple of hours before his shift was scheduled because he couldn’t sleep, thinking about Sharon and their talk the night before. His past wasn’t something he talked about, not with anybody. He’d never even discussed it with the Boudreaus, and they knew pretty much everything about everybody in Shiloh Springs. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind Ms. Patti would be hurt when she found out he’d kept something that big from her.
He leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on the computer screen before him. The image of Madison—wealthy philanthropist, political donor, and suspected criminal mastermind—stared back at him from the society page of a Chicago newspaper. The man’s polished smile revealed nothing of the darkness Dusty suspected lay beneath the veneer of sophistication.
The front door of the station opened and Rafe stepped inside, stopping short when he spotted Dusty.
“What brings you out this early? You’re not due to start for a couple more hours.”
“Couldn’t sleep, so I decided to come in and do a little more digging on Cooper Madison. Something about the guy has my hackles up.” Dusty leaned back in his chair and rubbed his hand across his face.
“That might have something to do with the pretty blonde you picked up a week ago. The one who’s neck-deep in troublein Chicago.” Rafe perched on the edge of Dusty’s desk, crossing his arms over his chest, watching Dusty with eyes that seemed to take in everything. Dusty didn’t want to admit Rafe was right, but he acknowledged Sharon was at the heart of everything he’d thought about for the last several days.
“Antonio’s intel checks out,” Dusty said, rubbing his temple. “Madison hasn’t left his estate in three weeks. Didn’t go into the office. Canceled speaking engagements, charity functions—all declined with vague excuses about ‘pressing business matters’.”
“Man like that doesn’t go to ground unless he’s scared or planning something.”
“Or both.” Dusty clicked through another series of reports Antonio had forwarded to him the night before. “His security team has doubled. Private contractors with military backgrounds.”
“Sounds like he’s preparing for war.”
Dusty nodded. “And Shiloh Springs—specifically Sharon—is in his crosshairs.”
The weight of responsibility pressed down on Dusty’s shoulders. Just a month ago, he’d been thinking about his life in Shiloh Springs. A simple sheriff’s deputy, he liked his job even though there wasn’t much chance of advancement. Rafe was young and had many more years in the role of sheriff, as long as he won reelection, and he was popular and well-liked, a member of a prominent Shiloh Springs family. Dusty didn’t mind; he didn’t want or need the responsibility of running the small town. He was more than happy to deal with the day-to-day issues of helping people and hunting down the occasional bad guy.
Then Sharon had stumbled into his path, and it was like the piece of the puzzle that had been missing slid into place, a perfect fit. It was apparent she’d been hiding something, because she was running scared. Thankfully, Ms. Patti had worked hermagic, and Sharon had stuck around. Now her past had caught up to her—professional hunters, paid too well to give up easily.
“We got lucky with the first crew,” Rafe said, echoing Dusty’s thoughts. “Next time, Madison might send professionals who won’t leave so easily.”
Dusty closed the laptop. “Sharon hid evidence that could put Madison away for decades. Corporate fraud, money laundering, maybe worse.”
“That’s what Antonio told me. Of course, that’s all he told me. Said he promised Sharon he wouldn’t say anything until he had investigated everything, verified her information was true and factual.” The disgruntled expression on Rafe’s face almost made Dusty laugh.
“She hid the evidence in San Antonio. She won’t tell me exactly what it is or where she hid it. Trust issues.” Dusty managed a wry smile. “Can’t blame her.”
Rafe paced the small front office space, boots heavy on the wooden floor. “Christmas is a week away. Town will be packed with tourists and out of town folks coming to visit relatives. If Madison’s men show up, then…”
“Collateral damage waiting to happen.” Dusty stood, decision made. “I need to take her back to San Antonio. Retrieve whatever she hid, get her to turn it over to Antonio and Brian. She knows Antonio, trusts him. Ms. Patti can vouch for Brian. That’s two FBI agents who aren’t in Chicago, can’t be on Madison’s payroll. That evidence can’t mysteriously disappear if it’s in the chain of command.”
“Timeline?”
“Today. Now. The longer we wait, the more dangerous it gets.”
Rafe stopped pacing, fixing Dusty with a hard stare. “You care about her.”
It wasn’t a question, and Dusty didn’t treat it as one. “I’ll keep her safe.”
“See that you do.” Rafe clapped him on the shoulder, before handing him a set of keys. “Take my truck. It’s got a full tank of gas. I’ll use the cruiser until you get back.”
“Thanks, boss.”
Without saying anything else, Dusty grabbed his coat and hat and headed for the door. Inside, he felt a sense of urgency, almost like a ticking time bomb. He needed to get Sharon, convince her they needed the hidden evidence, and get on the road as quickly as possible, because he had a feeling time was running out.
The big picture window in front of Daisy’s Diner had been frosted, and now sported painted snowflakes and twinkling lights. The scents of warm coffee and cinnamon enveloped Dusty as he stepped through the door, the tinkle of the overhead bell announcing his arrival.
Sharon moved between tables with practiced ease, coffee pot in hand, laughing at something an elderly customer said. When she spotted Dusty, her smile faltered briefly before returning, more reserved. She knew him well enough now to read his expression.
