Killian leaned in, peering at the faint progress indicator, then shifted his gaze to Rawley’s face. “You get a hit?”
Rawley exhaled, rocking back in his chair and clasping his hands behind his head. He stole a glance toward Dave’s office door, still closed, and then turned back to Killian. “A couple weeks ago, five guys were hanging around Dewey’s, hassling someone. I warned them off, but the next week they tailed us from there to her place. Didn’t do anything more than talk big, but Saturday night I saw a truck flying going the opposite way, wheels kicking up gravel like it was in a race.”
“Flying as in speeding? Or running from somewhere?” Killian’s tone was low and cautious.
“Maybe both,” Rawley said. “They’re cocky, cattle-rustler type, all swagger and threats.”
“You can’t run a trace without probable cause,” Killian warned, leaning against the edge of Rawley’s desk.
Rawley leaned forward, voice tight. “I’ve got cause.”
“Oh yeah? What, that they followed you?” Killian shook his head. “Dave will shut that down, no warrant, no match. Evidence like that won’t stick.”
Rawley cursed under his breath, yanking the phone from its port and sliding it into his pocket. “You’re right.”
“You could be jeopardizing a case, Rawley,” Killian said, moving back to his own desk. “Dave knows you’ve got instincts, but you have to do it by the book. And don’t breathe a word of this to him.”
Rawley watched Killian boot up his workstation, the low hum of it filling the silence. He ran a hand through his hair, then he squared his shoulders and prepared to find the proper channel to bring Dave into the loop, this time, by the rules.
At one o’clock he shoved his chair back, yanked his hat off the rack, and stalked out. He was meeting Skylar for lunch, and already he was late.
At the crosswalk he paused, then darted through the traffic and pedestrians, and pushed open the diner’s door. He sighed with relief when he spotted Skylar at the counter.
He slipped onto the stool beside her, pressed a hand to her trembling fingers. “What’s wrong?”
She swallowed, eyes darting over his shoulder. “Those…” She cleared her throat. “Four of those men from Dewey’s. Back booth.”
Rawley’s chest tightened. He rose, squeezed her shoulder, then threaded between tables. He stopped at the booth and touched the brim of his hat. “Afternoon, gentlemen.”
They looked up, laughter dying on their lips the moment their eyes hit his Kevlar vest, badge, and holstered pistol. The biggest one, cowboy hat low, lip curled, snorted. “Damned if we can even eat in peace without you breathing down our necks.”
Rawley folded his arms, every inch in control. “Small town.”
“Livestock agent, big fucking deal,” another sneered. “You gonna arrest some livestock now?”
Rawley’s fingers tapped the butt of his gun. “Damn, I haven’t heard that one before.” He narrowed his eyes. “I arrest rustlers.”
“How’s that going for you?” The first cowboy cracked a grin.
Rawley dropped his tone to a cold whisper. “Oh, it’s going just fine.”
“Well, good luck with that.”
A beat of dead silence and Rawley knew everyone in the diner was looking at them. Then the cowboy slid from the booth, glaring up at him. “I’m not afraid of you,” he snarled, glancing at Skylar. “We’ll have you begging when we’re done with that little piece of yours.”
Rawley slid his hand over his weapon. “Is that a threat against a law officer?”
The cowboy leaned even closer, his breath hot with whiskey already. “Take off that badge and holster, livestock boy, and we’ll see who stands last. Winner takes the girl.”
Rawley stared at them until they started to fidget, except for the one in charge. He didn’t move.
The man held Rawley’s gaze for seconds that felt like hours, then flicked a nod. The other three rose and swaggered toward the register.
Rawley watched them leave, each step echoing through the diner, then returned to Skylar’s side. The cowboy paid, smirked, and shoved open the door, then strode out.
Rawley settled onto the stool, still tense as a drawn bow. He cradled Skylar’s hand. “You okay?”
She exhaled shakily. “Yeah… but when they stared at me… I thought…”
