Chapter Six
“It’s bad in there.”
Cole nodded as he tightened his flak vest. “You don’t have to go in, Grant. Melody and the kids—”
His top deputy snorted. “Don’t do that, boss. I knew the risks of this job when I took it, and so did Mel. You can’t treat me like I’m a rookie.”
Turning toward the darkened warehouse that sat on an abandoned property outside of town, Cole shook his head. “This is Crimson,” he said, anger making his voice low. “We shouldn’t have to be dealing with scumbags like this up here.”
Grant shrugged. “The town is growing, and the world is changing. Big cities don’t have the market cornered on lowlife drug dealers.”
“It’s a small operation.” Cole inclined his head toward JJ Waring, a second deputy who stood about twenty feet from them, camouflaged by an overgrown bush and the darkness of the hour. “Waring and I can handle it.”
“I’m fine, Sheriff.” Grant moved so he was standing in front of Cole. “Elaina is fine.”
Cole blew out a breath. Last fall, Grant’s young daughter had gotten caught in the middle of an incident with a tweaked-out petty criminal who’d had too many run-ins with the department to count. But on that night, the man had gone too far, and Elaina had ended up hospitalized from a knife wound. Grant and his wife, Melody, had witnessed the whole thing.
Although everyone from Grant to Marlene to Jase had insisted it wasn’t Cole’s fault, he couldn’t help but blame himself. There had been something about the man that had reminded Cole of his brother, Shep. The brother he hadn’t seen in close to seven years. Cole had gone easy on the guy too many times, and his drug use and subsequent bad behavior had escalated.
Cole took his responsibilities as sheriff seriously, but his duty to the men and women who worked for him was even more important. He knew that each of them understood the risks involved but that didn’t stop him from wanting to protect them, along with every person who lived under his jurisdiction.
Since that night last fall, he’d made it his personal mission to take down the underground drug ring that had spread its slimy tentacles up from Denver and into several of the high mountain communities.
It went beyond the legal marijuana that had become so popular in Colorado in the past few years. The stuff these guys were manufacturing was hard-core, and the bigger operations in the city had set up satellite sites in rural areas where there was more room and less monitoring by local law enforcement.
Not in Crimson if Cole had anything to do about it.
He unholstered his gun and nodded at Grant. “Glad to have you by my side,” he said, and together they slipped into the shadows.
* * *
Sienna blinked awake, then glanced at the clock. Two in the morning.
She sighed and sat up, the sheets and comforter twisted into a ball at the foot of the bed. Maybe a glass of water would help—or warm milk. Anything to stop her from tossing and turning, sleep remaining elusive as her mind spun in a dozen different directions.
She went to the bedroom window, unlatched it, then pushed it open. Cool air was good for sleeping, too. Her gaze snagged on the familiar white Jeep parked at the curb in front of The Bumblebee. Was there something wrong in this quiet neighborhood to bring out Crimson’s finest at this late hour?
The SUV was dark, no motor running. She couldn’t see the driver but knew without a doubt that Cole was behind the wheel.
She hadn’t seen him since yesterday at the bakery, and tried to ignore the thrill that zipped along her skin at the mere thought of him now.
After walking away from him, she’d planned to march down the street to the mayor’s office in the county courthouse, a redbrick historic building situated across the park that made up the center of downtown Crimson.
But the thought of facing her brother made her break out in a cold sweat, heart pounding and hands trembling. Why was it so difficult to face Jase or her father?
Her mother had been the one to take her away from Crimson, but Sienna still felt the painful sting of rejection from being let go so easily. The argument could be made that her life had been better far away from the turmoil of her alcoholic father—she knew her mother would contend that Sienna had been given many more opportunities in Chicago than she ever would have had in Crimson.
That didn’t matter either. She’d felt expendable. Even though they’d both been kids, Jase had stayed in Crimson because Declan had needed him, not Sienna. The two Crenshaw men were a pair, and she was an outsider in the town where she’d been born.
Not allowing herself to think too much about her actions, she padded downstairs, slipped on a pair of shoes and let herself out the front door. The driver’s side window lowered as she rounded the front of the Jeep.
“Is there a problem, Sheriff?” She wrapped her arms around her waist, still surprised by the nip in the air. The temperature in the mountains dipped every night when the sun went down, so different from the Midwest, where it often stayed within a few degrees of the sweltering heat and humidity of daylight hours.
“No.” The one syllable was a low rumble. Cole’s face remained in shadow, but something was different tonight. The invisible current that seemed to connect them was still there, but there was an unusual charge to it.
“Was my restless sleep disturbing the neighbors tonight?”
“I didn’t get a call from the neighbors.”
