“Why the fuck did Wade Granger want to mess up our bust?” Hockley demanded the next morning. He was wearing the proof of his long night in the stubble on his face and the bags under his eyes, but apparently his energy was undiminished. “Why would he send you into a situation like that?”
Jericho wanted to argue with the “send you” part of that question, but he wasn’t sure what he could say. It had taken about ten words from Wade, not even spoken directly to Jericho, to have him running across town to the door in question. He leaned back in his creaky leather desk chair and watched the irate federal agent pacing around his office. “I suppose it’s possible he was helping me find some snakes.”
“The snake thing is just weird. Why the hell does the kid want to see snakes?”
“Maybe because Wade planted the idea in his head to get me to go mess up your bust. Maybe because snakes are cool. I truly don’t know.” Jericho sighed. “It’s possible Wade wasn’t aware of your operation. I mean, if you’ve plugged the pipeline through Kayla’s dad, he might not be as clear on what you guys are up to. And if that’s the case—it’s honestly not impossible that he wanted to draw my attention to the fact that someone was cooking meth four doors down from an elementary school. Summer vacation’s almost over, and if that place had blown up when kids were walking by, it could have been a disaster. It’s a damn good thing you got it cleaned up last night. And Wade’s helped before, when protecting kids was involved.”
“Was his previous assistance about protecting kids or protectingyou?” Hockley shook his head. “It’s a fucked-up situation, Jericho. You know that.”
Jericho couldn’t deny it. And in a way, as much as the DEA’s continued presence in Mosely was a nuisance, he knew things would get even more fucked-up when—or if—they ever decided their work in the area was done. As it was, Jericho was mostly busy helping Kayla run the department and enforcing the simpler laws that affected a rural community. Large-scale investigations of people like Wade Granger? He could ignore them, as long as the feds were around to do that work. Without the feds, whatever was going on between Jericho and Wade would boil up a hell of a lot faster.
The not-entirely-unpleasant churning in his gut that came when he thought about heating up with Wade was a sign that he still needed to get his head in the right place about that relationship. Damn it. “He’s attached himself to Nikki’s life. Her kids. I could ignore her—I’d behappyto ignore her—if she were on her own. But I feel like I’ve got some obligation to the kids, you know? They’re my half siblings. And that means I’m going to keep having contact with Wade, even if it’s as indirect as this was.”
Hockley grimaced, then said, “There’s something else you should know.”
There had probably never beengoodnews presented with a lead-in like that, so Jericho braced himself and waited.
“You know we’ve been questioning the bikers,” Hockley said. Most of the major players from the recent bust were being held without bail, and the feds had been going through their typical investigations. Nothing to worry Jericho about that. Hockley paused a moment, then clearly decided he had to go on. “We’re casting a wide net. Asking questions about the specific crimes that they’ve already been charged with, but also about larger issues and crimes we suspect they were involved in.”
“Okay . . .”
“We’ve been asking them about your father’s death. The questions haven’t been too targeted, since we haven’t really got that much to go on. But we’ve been asking.”
Jericho just nodded. As always when his father was mentioned, there was no use trying to catalog, much less understand, the emotions that raced through him.
“We haven’t gotten much. But a couple days ago we were talking to Mike DeMonte, and he said . . .” Hockley peered down at his phone, apparently reading a note word-for-word. “He said we should ‘tell Junior to look closer to home on that one.’”
“‘Closer to home.’” Jericho tried to ignore the twisting in his gut, tried to treat the response like an intellectual problem. What sort of information would the bikers have about his father’s death? Who might they have heard from? And who would they consider close to Jericho’s home? “You’re thinking he meant Wade?”
“Seems like a logical assumption. Granger’s the one who’s benefited most from your father’s death, after all. His recent business growth has been based almost exclusively on activating the contacts and other information from that thumb drive.”
Jericho nodded dully. Wade had benefited. Wade was capable of killing a man. Wade had pulled a gun on Jericho himself fairly recently. Wade was a reasonable suspect. God, what did it mean that Jericho was working so hard to forget that?
His phone rang then with Kayla’s distinctive tone, and he tried not to look too pathetically grateful for the distraction as he answered the call.
“We’ve got a body,” Kayla said. “Over on Forest Lane, those rental houses. White female, midforties, suspected homicide. You’ve got the experience on that, so I want you to take lead.”
Jericho sat up a little straighter. He was aware of Hockley listening, but didn’t temper his words. “You think it’s actually ours? The feds aren’t going to sweep in and take over?” He glanced over at Hockley, who just raised a sardonic eyebrow.
“We are not currently aware of any reason for the feds to be involved,” Kayla said.
Jericho was already standing when he jerked his head in a sort of good-bye to Hockley. He started for the door, phone still clapped to his ear. “You got an address for me?”
“I’m coming over with you. You’re the lead, but I’m part of this. Meet me downstairs.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He wasn’thappythat a woman was dead, he told himself as he jogged down the stairs, leaving Hockley behind. No, not happy she was dead, and not even happy he was heading off to investigate her death. It wasn’t happiness he was feeling, just a sense of purpose. Everything had been too complicated lately, first with his father, then with the feds, and always, of course, with Wade. But this sounded straightforward. A woman had been alive, and now she was dead, and there was reason to believe her change in status wasn’t due to natural causes. Jericho would find out who had killed her, and why, and he’d gather evidence to ensure that the right person was punished. Everything would make sense. He hoped.
“Please tell me Wade Granger wasn’t the one who found the body,” he said as Kayla fell in beside him and they charged out the door.
She gave him a startled look. “Do you have some reason to believe he’s involved?”
“No. Just, you know—just my horrific luck.”
“Jay, if you’re investigating drug trafficking and semi-organized crime in Mosely, Montana, it’s notbad luckthat leads to you repeatedly encountering Wade Granger.”
Well, she had a point there, but it wasn’t one he wanted to think about too hard. “So who did find her?” he asked, then hesitated as the sidewalk ended at the asphalt of the parking lot.
