Authors: Christine Gentry
Tags: #Fiction / Mystery & Detective / General
Outerbridge smirked. “Lewis & Clark County Attorney Cody Masterson. I understand that you know his ex-wife quite well, Lieutenant.”
“Thoughts are like arrows: once released, they strike their mark. Guard them well or one day you may be your own victim.”
Navajo
A loud knocking reverberated through the hotel door. Ansel rolled over, staring blearily toward that general direction as she tried to orientate herself. After Reid and she had cornered Outerbridge, she'd collapsed in bed to grab a few hours of sleep before he would drive her back to Big Toe. She looked toward Dixie's bed. The covers were twisted but empty. She had yet to see or hear from the woman. The raps resumed.
She wiped the fuzziness from her eyes and slowly trundled to the door in her wrinkled dress clothes. “Who is it?” No sense taking chances with Cyrus on the loose.
“Parker.”
She was too tired and cranky to be excited about his presence. “What is it?”
“I need to talk to you. I haven't got much time.”
Ansel looked at her wrist watch. It was almost nine a.m. Parker must have finished the group huddle with Outerbridge scheduled the night before. She was no longer in the FBI loop. Reid had told her he had an appointment to catch before they left town, and he wouldn't be back until after eleven. She wished they'd already departed so she could avoid seeing Parker at all.
“Ansel, open up.”
Despite her better judgement, she unbolted the door. When she opened it wide, Parker stood eyeing her warily. He was wearing a fresh outfit of jeans, black tee, and boots. He looked tired, too. “Can I come in?”
“Sure.” She retreated into the room. “I'll be back in a moment.”
Parker stepped in and closed the door while Ansel headed for the bathroom. Once inside, she locked the door. He wasn't going to slip inside again so easily. She used the toilet first and then brushed the foul taste in her mouth away with some of Dixie's toothpaste and her index finger. Leaving home without the minimal toiletries was a major inconvenience. A review of herself in the mirror revealed a nightmare vision of an Indian wraith with spiky hair, smeared makeup, and two matching pouches of dark FBI baggage under her eyes. Parker certainly wouldn't be pawing her clothes off in passion, she mused.
He knocked on the bathroom door. “Come on, Ansel. You can't hide in there.”
Ansel opened the door. “Are you sure you want to talk? You won't like what I say.”
Parker reached out to touch her. She expertly dodged his hand and slid past him. He turned and watched as she walked stiffly into the center of the room. “Why are you mad at me?”
She faced him, raising her eyebrows and crossing her arms. “Cyrus Flynn. Jessie Frost. Frank Carigliano. Allied Beef Exchange. Sicilian Mafia. County Attorney Cody Masterson. Should I go on?”
Parker sighed. “You're blowing this out of perspective. My job is to fly a chopper. I don't contribute to the game plan.”
“But you knew the game plan, Parker. I didn't. It's bad enough that I was tricked into this operation with all those honorable platitudes about bone orchards and the noble fight against wanton destruction of fossil artifacts, but you really played me for all I was worth.”
“That's not true. It may seem that way, but it's not.” He came toward her again, a pained expression drooping his usually stoic face.
Ansel back stepped. “Don't touch me. You all shared the scoop on me in one of your neatly-labeled, federal files. You had to know about my childhood accident and who was involved. When were you going to tell me that Cyrus Flynn was tied into this mess? Did you ever think of my feelings about finding out or seeing that sicko bastard after what he did to me?”
Parker halted, dismayed by the venom in her voice. “You're right. I should have told you even if it compromised the op. I was wrong and I apologize. How can I make it up to you?” His eyes were beseeching.
Ansel trembled with rage and rubbed her arms briskly to calm herself. He was trying to appease her, but it wasn't enough. A cold, slithering snake of reason lay coiled in the back of her mind that she couldn't chase away, and it hissed to her that Reid Dorbandt would have never done this to her. Not even if they'd just met and jumped into an intimate relationship. Reid would have told her about Cyrus. Warned her.
Unlike Parker, it would have come down to a matter of honor with Reid, not servitude to a higher force. Parker had decided long ago that currying himself to Anglo men in power advanced his rank in the pecking order. To keep Outerbridge's secret about the drug cartel connection, Parker hadn't dared to mention Cyrus to her.
“Get out, Parker.”
“You don't mean that.” He rushed forward and grabbed her shoulders before she could avoid it. “You're tired and upset. I've got to leave in half an hour. The task force is flying back to Glasgow. I'm not going with this hanging between us.”
Ansel didn't pull away this time, but she didn't dare look at him. One glance would start melting her resolve. Already his hands were like red heat on her body. She focused on the floor.
“I mean it. I don't want to talk about this anymore.”
“Then we won't. I'll call you like we planned.”
Tears started at the corner of her eyes. She squeezed them shut. She refused to let him see her cry. “Just go,” she ordered.
Ansel sensed his body shift forward as he placed a tender kiss upon her lips. She stood unyielding, determined to be stone against his fiery liquid sexuality. Her lack of response discouraged him, and Parker pulled away.
“Be safe, Ansel.”
She listened as his footsteps treaded across the carpet and the door opened. The soft click of it's closing was like a smooth stiletto piercing her chest, and it angered her that was so. “You, too,” she whispered.
And then the floodgates within her eyes opened.
***
“You're awfully quiet.” Chloe sipped her Espresso and fixed Reid with a curious stare. “Tired?”
Reid sat at the two-seater, black marble table across from her feeling physically ill. There was nothing wrong with the small restaurant situated near the College of Technology. The tiny bistro was crowded but clean and cheerful. The gray slate walls guarded by an army of potted plants supported huge single-pane windows overlooking the rolling, landscaped campus. The breakfast food and drink was excellent, served with glazed stoneware dishes and mugs.
Still Reid could barely force himself to talk or eat. A few hours before, when Odie called as requested, he'd ordered the detective to do a complete background check on Cody Masterson and Chloe Masterson Birch. He wanted to know what ties, if any, Chloe had maintained with her ex-husband. The thought that she might be involved in fossil poaching or drugs had driven him to this point. It was a cop's mentality and, though he berated himself for it, it was as much of who he was as the normal social pleasantries he now forced himself to do.
Reid sighed. “It was a long night. I'm not looking forward to the drive back either, but that's the demands of the job. Speaking of which, you did a great job on that reconstruction.”
“You keep saying that. I'm just a messenger. My work will only be a success if somebody uses the information to come forward and identify the man.”
Reid nodded and picked at his scrambled eggs. “The photo was distributed electronically early this morning, especially to the tribal police agencies. We'll get a strike soon.”
Chloe's hair shined like spun platinum beneath the sunlight coming in through the window as she reached across the table and placed her left palm over his hand resting along the table edge. “I hope you get bonus points with Sheriff Combs,” she said with a wink. “That would make my long hours of slaving over a hot computer worthwhile.”
Reid felt worse. She was making all the right overtures about still caring for him, and he was about to manipulate her trust for selfish reasons. “Must have been tough for you.”
Her brows crinkled together. “What?”
“Finally finding something you love to do and that you're really good at, but it has this humongous down side â it negatively affects your life, even your marriage.”
Chloe removed her hand and gestured off-handedly. “Oh, that...Well, like I said, Cody wasn't entirely to blame. We were both career driven fiends. Not that he didn't have his faults. He had a lot of mood swings and bouts with depression. I didn't have the time to coddle him, and he found other ways to pull himself together without me.” She looked at him, her face pensive. “I know what you're thinking. Other women. No, he never cheated on me. I know that for a fact.”
Reid sensed an underlying current of evasion about Cody's faults. He'd have to probe deeper. “How did you meet him?”
“I met him at MSU in Missoula. He was getting a law degree. He wanted to be an attorney. We clicked right away when we found out that we were both interested in the criminal field. After dating until he graduated, we decided to get married. Soon after we lived apart on and off because he got an attorney job in Havre for a small law firm while I continued my schooling, graduated with an archeology degree, and then decided to go into forensic reconstruction. After that, things fell apart.”
“What's he doing now?”
“Cody's the county attorney in Helena. He prosecutes big-time criminals.”
Or protects them from prosecution, Dorbandt thought. Masterson had a lot of power, like the ability to dismiss cases he deemed lost causes. How many mafia stooges, poaching accomplices, or personal criminal buddies had he let loose by failing to allow cases to move forward into a Lewis and Clark county courtroom?
“He sounds very ambitious,” Reid replied, barely containing his consternation. How could Chloe have gotten involved with this man?
She inhaled deeply. “Definitely. You know, it seemed like the more Cody succeeded from small time attorney to deputy county attorney, and then to county prosecutor, the more our marriage disintegrated.”
“He moved up quickly, then?”
Chloe nodded. “Almost like opportunities fell into his lap. And he's still hungry for more. His ultimate goal is to get the U.S. Attorney position for Montana.”
Reid took a sip of coffee as he considered Chloe's words. Corrupt local and state government employees were the bane of law enforcement when it came to weeding out drug enemies. Masterson had probably made his connections with the mafia in Havre as a fledgling attorney. All kinds of narcotraffic went through that border town straight from the Canadian line. Sometime during a fragile period when a brassy, ambitious attorney's soul could be tarnished black, Masterson was seduced by the prospect of easy money, future career advances, and power. Love of self had replaced his love for Chloe.
“Chloe, did Cody ever use drugs?”
Chloe looked at him sharply, a shadow crossing over her eyes. “Why on earth would you ask me that?”
“You said that Cody had mood swings and bouts with depression. Sounds like a substance abuse issue.”
She looked down at her near empty plate once filled with puffy slices of French Toast slathered with hand-harvested maple syrup from Vermont. “Once a cop, always a cop. Sure, Cody had his bout with recreational drugs when he was in college, but that was it. His real problem during the marriage was alcohol. I pushed him into rehab once, and he passed with flying colors. All of this was before we decided to part ways. As far as I know, he's still on the wagon. Why this deep interest in my ex?”
Reid knew that he'd pushed far enough. He grinned. “Guess I'm curious about the competition.”
When she gazed at him this time, her expression was mirthful. “There is no competition, Reid. I don't even speak with him anymore. Does that make you feel better?”
“Yeah, it does.”
Chloe looked at her watch. “I've got to get going. I have some papers to correct before class.” She gathered her purse and briefcase together.
“I wish we had more time.”
“Me, too, Reid. When will you come back to Billings?”
Reid swiped a hand across his face. “I don't know. I've got a heavy case load right now, but I'll have some vacation time soon. I could come back and visit my parents and brother. Haven't seen them in quite a while.”
Chloe stared into his eyes. “I'd like that. Call me and let me know what you're doing. I'll clear my calendar.” Chloe stood and so did he. The bill had already been paid so they left the bistro and forged out into the suffocating heat.
Since they'd met there, he walked her to her van, feeling awkward, sad, and excited at the same time. “Well, here we are,” he said as they stood by the Lumina's door.
Chloe leaned close to him and kissed him briefly on the lips. It was not a passionate move, but not just a peck on the cheek either. “I'll miss you, Reid. Come back quickly.”
Reid searched her eyes, wondering if she felt as he did that they'd just turned some invisible corner with one another. He placed his hand on her arm and pulled her close again. This time, he kissed her and drew away. Her response had been just as he remembered it to be so long ago as she leaned into him, cool, soft, and smelling of lavender. It was like a time warp, as if fifteen years hadn't passed at all.
“I'll call when I get back to Mission City,” he said.
Chloe laughed. “You'd better. I don't want you to disappear on me.” She unlocked the van with an electronic remote and slid in, then shut the door, waving quickly as she started the vehicle.
Reid watched, feeling ten feet tall, as she backed out and left the parking lot. It had been a long time since he'd been in a serious relationship with a woman. Work had consumed him. The long hours on the job filled his head and his hours. It was time that he started enjoying life more, he decided as he watched the van turn into a blue dot amidst downtown traffic.
Maybe it was time to turn his compass toward home instead of toward infinity. He wasn't getting any younger. He did want a wife and kids. Early thirties and he was sightseeing life on cruise control rather than with his hands guiding the wheel. Maybe Chloe was always the woman he was meant to be with.