Page 7 of Shadow Angel
“Nope. I ran the moment you said, nine one one. Cross my heart. It would have taken an Olympian sprinter to get here faster.” Styles glanced at the men. “Maybe I’ll have a little man-to-man chat with the guy in the red baseball cap before Cash gets here?” He turned back to look at her. “I don’t like that he laid hands on you, Beth.”
Shrugging into her coat, Beth waved a hand at him in dismissal. “Don’t. Trust me, they’ll have us suspended for police brutality if you do.” She smiled at him. “But I do appreciate the offer. I can’t recall the last person who actually cared about my well-being.”
“I care.” Styles frowned and his eyes held true compassion. “We’re partners and watch each other’s back, right?”
Dependable, trustworthy Dax Styles was more than she’d bargained for. It would take some getting used to. Beth nodded slowly. “I’d like that, thanks.” She indicated toward her vehicle. “I’ll wait in the truck.”
She climbed into the passenger seat of her truck. She tossed the wig on the back seat and, using wipes from a packet in the glove box, removed her makeup and then ran both hands through her hair, releasing it from the tie at the nape of her neck. The next moment, Ryder pulled up behind her in his cruiser and she watched with interest as he shoved three men into the back seat. The fourth man, coincidentally the one with the red baseball cap, was escorted to her truck by Styles. The door opened letting in a blast of freezing air. In these cases, where a regular truck was used in the arrest, it was protocol for law enforcement to sit beside the prisoner, but whatever Styles had said to the guy in the red cap must have made an impression, as he sat there subdued with his head hanging down.
“They’ll all be sharing the same jail cell tonight.” Styles slid behind the wheel frowning. “I must have told Ryder a hundred times to ask the mayor to build a second cell in his office.”
The cabin quickly filled with a stench of stale beer and onions. Beth waved a hand in front of her nose. “I’ll never get the stink of him out of my truck.”
After dropping the prisoner at the sheriff’s office, they headed to see Nate. He lived above his practice and was apparently used to being disturbed in the evenings. Ushered into his examination room, Beth explained what had happened.
“Okay.” Nate pulled on a pair of examination gloves. “Do you need any help getting onto the gurney?” He kicked a small step toward it and offered his hand.
Waving his hand away, Beth climbed onto the gurney and laid down to allow him to examine her stomach. He was very professional and thorough, with a gentle touch and good bedside manner. She looked at his concerned face. “I don’t feel like anything is broken. He got me under the ribs.”
“Hmm, bruising mostly, but come back if you have any blood loss at all.” He put one hand behind her back to help her sit up. “Do you need pain meds?”
Shaking her head, Beth pulled down her sweater. “I’ll be fine. I just need a record of the injury in case the local DA wants to proceed with charges”
“Okay.” Nate’s brow wrinkled. “I’m surprised you’re still on your feet. A blow like that would normally have felled most people. I couldn’t help noticing the other scars on your body. Did you get them in the line of duty?”
Not wanting to discuss her past life with him, she shrugged. “Nothing I can talk about.”
“You can always talk to me, Beth, inside these rooms.” Nate went to his desk, sat down, and looked at her. “I take patient-doctor confidentiality very seriously. If ever there’s anything you need to talk about, I’m here for you.”
Any thought of getting closer to this man fled in that moment. He was just too darn inquisitive. One slip and he’d discover her secret, and that could never happen. She’d need to choose her friends wisely to keep safe. She zipped up her coat and smiled at him. “Thanks for the offer.”
“That’s okay.” Nate stood. “My receptionist will email you first thing for your insurance details, and we’ll bill them direct. Don’t forget, any other symptoms—cramping, bleeding—call me or go straight to the hospital.”
Beth nodded. “Sure.” She walked through the door to where Styles was waiting. “I’m good to go.”
“Is she?” Styles looked at Nate. “Beth will never admit she’s hurting.”
“I’d be calling the paramedics to take her to the hospital if there were a problem.” Nate shrugged. “She knows her body, is all.”
“Okay.” Styles opened the door for her and stood back. “From that look, Beth, I figure you plan to interview the prisoners, but it’s not going to happen. It’s a conflict of interest. We’ll have to trust Ryder with this one.”
Agreeing, Beth tried to push down the anger of being beaten. If she’d been armed, it would have been a different story. “Call him and tell him to tape the interview. I want to know their whereabouts on Friday night. I figure they’ll lawyer up because most of it is my word against the four of them. You saw me on the ground. You didn’t see what happened before or hear me identify myself. They’ll walk and might come after me for fighting back.”
“Nah.” Styles shook his head. “You were on the ground when I came around the corner. It was self-defense. There were four of them and one of you, but I can see your point.”
On the way back to the office they discussed the information they’d obtained from Outlaws. Beth listened with interest. “I hadn’t realized miners came into the club during the week. I figured they worked Monday to Friday. Well, that was the information I received when I called Longhorn Peak Mine.”
“Not all mines operate the same hours.” Styles turned into the FBI parking lot. “Twelve hours on and twelve hours off is usual, five days a week, but some do alternate shifts, as in night shift and day shift, with days off during the week. This means that miners could be in any of the strip clubs across the three towns any day of the week. Believe it or not, this actually gives us an advantage, because if it does happen to be one of the miners, we’ll be able to track his whereabouts without too much trouble.” He gave her a long considering look. “You look all in. I’m happy to keep discussing this case, but it can wait for the morning.”
Beth picked up her purse and grabbed the wig from the back seat. She needed a long hot shower and some rest. Her mind was working overtime on the other case and sometimes sleeping on it was the best solution. “Okay, what are your plans for the morning?”
“We’ll follow up on tonight’s events, I guess.” He sighed. “I do have another idea. As nothing has come in about Cassie Burnham, I could take the chopper up and we’ll do a search of our own? She has to be out there somewhere, and if she is dead, as you assume, and thrown down one of the old mine shafts, there will be signs. A dead body attracts wildlife from all over. We’d spot something unusual down there. I have a list of the current hunting areas, so we can dismiss them for now.”
Frowning, Beth stared at him. In the dark she seemed to be speaking to his silhouette. It was surreal. “How so?”
“Because hunters field-dress their kills and leave a bunch of crap behind that attracts wildlife, and a local would avoid those areas or risk running into someone.” Styles shrugged and turned to face her. “If this killer is as organized as you say, he wouldn’t risk being seen. We’ll search outside of the hunting areas and look for crows swarming. They’re a good indication something is dead.”
NINE
