Speed Trap (7 page)

Garrett rose, too, and carefully returned Colin to the crib. Mandy pulled the blanket over the sleeping infant.

Glancing sideways at her, Garrett found her watching him intently. He couldn't help speculating about what she was thinking.

He
was thinking how pretty she would be if she let herself smile.

 

Heat rose in Mandy's cheeks at Garrett's close scrutiny. The air between them simmered with charged expectation. He was too close. The scent of leather and warm male skin teased her senses, making her want to lean closer, breathe deeper.

Instead, she forced herself to move away.

She couldn't find fault with Garrett's behavior toward Colin. The grim determination on his face as he'd tackled his son's bath had been almost comical. The tenderness she saw as he laid his son back in bed would have been hard to fake, but would it last? Would he be able to manage when things got hard?

She'd given another single father the benefit of the doubt once. When he failed, his innocent child paid the ultimate price. It wasn't a mistake Mandy was willing to make again.

“Sheriff, this is Fred. Do you read me?” The voice bursting out from her radio startled her and woke Colin. She grasped the mic. “Go ahead, Fred.” She located a pacifier and handed it to Garrett who began to soothe the baby.

“I just got a tip on an active meth lab.”

Another one? Where was it going to end? “Do you think it's a good tip?”

“The best. An off-duty police officer. He says they're cooking in an old trailer. Number 41 on Glenville Road.”

“That's on the far side of the lake.”

Mandy glanced at Garrett. He stood watching her intently. She turned and left the room, but stopped outside in the hall. “Are you sure about the location?”

“Johnny grew up here before he moved to Topeka,” Fred explained. “He was in his boat, fishing off Glen Point, and claims he got a good whiff. He knows the smell of meth cooking.”

“Okay. I'll contact Judge Bailey for a search warrant. I want at least two more deputies on this. Have dispatch call Ken Holt and Benny Mason and meet us at the station. I'll be there in five minutes. I want everyone in Kevlar vests. If this
is
the gang that's been moving so much meth, they may be armed.”

“Understood.”

Garrett walked into the hall. “Was that about Judy?”

She shook her head. “When I have something new to share, I'll find you.”

Miss Compton came down the hall toward them. “Mr. Bowen, I need a few more minutes of your time.”

Glancing at his watch, he frowned. “Can it wait until tomorrow?”

“I'm afraid not.”

He didn't look happy, but Mandy didn't have time to worry about him. She was already heading out the door.

 

Twenty minutes later, she and her men were gathered in the sheriff's office. Carefully, she mapped out how she wanted the raid to go down. When she was sure everyone understood their jobs, she tossed Fred the keys to the truck. “Let's go get the bad guys.”

Fred grinned. “Yes, boss.”

As they walked outside to their vehicles, Mandy saw Garrett zoom past in his truck on the way out of town. He wasn't headed toward his ranch.

Fred said, “Wish I'd had my radar gun on that one. Wonder where he's going in such a hurry?”

Mandy wondered the same thing, but quickly dismissed Garrett from her mind. She had more important things to worry about. Like the safety of her men.

Once inside her truck, Mandy picked up the mic to make sure everyone was in radio contact. “Central, do you read me?”

“You're breaking up, Sheriff.” Donna's voice came over the set.

“We read you loud and clear,” Ken said from the other vehicle.

Mandy hesitated. The last thing she wanted was to be out of touch with the office. There was no telling if they would need additional backup. “Donna, what seems to be the trouble?”

After a long moment of silence, Donna said, “I can hear you now.”

“All right. Let's go.”

They made the ride in silence until they turned onto the gravel road that curved around the far side of the county lake. The trucks kicked up clouds of white dust as they sped along. Mandy rehearsed the approach they would take once they arrived. It was impossible to be prepared for everything, but she tried.

Fred pulled to a stop several hundred yards from the trailer where a thick stand of trees and underbrush shielded them from view. Mandy stepped out and the others joined her.

She said, “Remember, these people are handling poten
tially deadly chemicals. Our goal is to get everyone out of the trailer. If they are cooking meth, we'll cordon off this area and get the KBI down here with a hazardous materials team. Anyone who touches a suspect or their clothing needs to be wearing gloves. Is that clear?”

As everyone nodded, she pulled on her own pair of latex gloves and pointed to Fred. “You and Benny circle around the back of the property. Tell me when you're set and wait for my signal.”

“Let me go around back,” Ken suggested. He smiled weakly. “I'm not as allergic to poison ivy as Fred is.”

Mandy glanced toward the dense underbrush and nodded. “Okay. I don't care who takes the back.”

While the men worked their way around to the rear, she pulled a bullhorn from the backseat of her vehicle, then she and Fred approached the front of the trailer.

Keeping under cover by crouching behind a row of cedars at the end of the lane, Mandy surveyed the area. It looked deserted. There were no vehicles, no signs of activity, but she caught the pungent scent of ammonia and propane in the air. It sure smelled like someone was cooking meth.

She waited impatiently for her deputies to get into position.

After several long minutes of silence, Mandy grew irritated. What was taking so long? She spoke into her handset. “Ken, are you ready?”

He didn't answer.

“Ken!” she hissed.

Finally, his crackly voice came back. “Sorry, boss. I'm set. I have the back door in sight.”

“Can you see any movement?”

“Nope.”

“Benny, are you in place?” she asked.

“Yes, Sheriff.”

“All right. I'm going in.”

Mandy moved across the weedy unkempt lawn and stopped behind an overturned wooden boat with a gaping hole in the hull. Fred crouched beside her, his gun drawn and trained on the doorway.

Raising the bullhorn to her lips, she said, “This is the Morrison County Sheriff's office. Come out of the trailer now with your hands in the air.”

No one responded. Nothing moved.

She spoke into the horn once more. “This is your last chance. We have a warrant to search the premises. Come out with your hands up.”

Mandy waited for another full minute. Still nothing.

It was time to act. Signaling Fred to cover her, she laid down the megaphone and drew her gun. Cautiously, she approached the trailer, alert for any movement or threat. Adrenaline coursed through her body. Her nerves were stretched wire-thin.

She was only a few feet from the front door when the trailer erupted into a fiery ball. The blast sent her flying backward.

M
andy sat on the rear bumper of the ambulance with an ice pack pressed to her smarting face. The bitter taste of ash clung to her lips. Flexing her jaw, she tested the limits of her injury. According to the EMT, she was going to have a nasty bruise. From the sting in her cheek, she knew he was right.

A plume of dark smoke rose above the trees in front of her. The fire department had the flames under control in a matter of minutes, mostly because there was nothing left to burn by the time they arrived. The ancient trailer by itself had been a death trap of flammable materials. Added to that, the volatile ingredients of speed and it became a bomb.

All that remained now was a burned-out hulk in a scorched circle of earth amidst the dense saplings and underbrush.

Fred was stretching yellow crime scene tape across the area. Ken was still making a sweep of the property, looking for suspects. No one had gotten out of the trailer unless they'd done so before Mandy arrived.

When the fire chief walked up, she braced herself. “Was anyone inside?”

He shook his head, and she relaxed. “Thank God for that.”

“You should be thanking God you didn't get to the door a minute later.”

“Believe me, I am.”

“It was a trap.”

She scowled at him. “What do you mean?”

He held out the remains of a charred timer. A pair of electrical wires dangled from the melted plastic case. “The place was deliberately rigged to blow. My guess is that someone knew you were coming and detonated the place to destroy the evidence.”

She blew out a long, frustrated breath. “Looks like they succeeded.”

“Residue tests positive for meth. It was an illegal lab, no doubt about it. I'll get this case to the KBI crime lab. Maybe they can lift a print or DNA from it.”

It was a slim chance, but it was all they had. “Thanks, Chief.”

“At least you know you didn't miss them by much.”

“How's that?”

A grim smile cut through the grime on his face. “It's only a fifteen-minute timer.”

As he walked back to his crew, Fred and Ken returned to her side. She lowered the ice pack. Ken whistled. “Bet that hurts.”

She gingerly replaced the cold compress. “Did you find anything?”

Ken shook his head. “No, and that's what's weird. The property is secluded and heavily overgrown with brush. It would be a perfect dumping ground, but I didn't find a single empty jug or propane bottle. If they were cooking speed here, they went to a lot of trouble to keep the place clean.”

She looked at Fred. “What about you?”

He shook his head and fingered the bandage on his forearm. “Nothing. The gravel doesn't hold tire tracks or footprints. But the next time we do this, I'm gonna take my chances with the poison ivy and Ken can rush the door.”

Ken drew himself up in indignation. “I was doing you a favor.”

“Don't do me any more.”

Mandy held up a hand. Her head ached enough without having to listen to the two of them argue. “Let's figure out how they knew we were coming.”

“They could have had a lookout,” Ken suggested. “A two-way radio and someone on the high ground. I'll check out the likely places.”

“So there had to be at least two of them,” she mused.

Fred lifted his arm to wipe his face with his sleeve. “They could have been tipped off.”

“By whom?” It was hard to focus with the pounding inside her skull in addition to her aching face.

“Bowen was driving in an all-fired hurry in this direction just before we left town.”

Ken shook his head. “How could he know we were coming here? Even if he was using a scanner, we weren't using the normal radio channel.”

Mandy's heart dropped a beat before thudding into fast forward. Garrett
had
overheard her radio conversation with Fred. Was it possible he was involved?

She didn't want to think so. Having seen how gentle he was with Colin, she couldn't believe he could rig an explosive that might kill someone less than an hour later.

She jerked her head toward the road, then winced as the movement brought more pain. “Where does this lane go?”

Ken raised his arm to point. “It circles around the lake and comes out about a mile down the highway.

“So whoever was here had an escape route planned, knew how to rig an explosion and knows how to keep evidence to a minimum. We're not dealing with some small-time crooks. This is a professional job. These guys are smart.”

“Which explains why Kansas City claims big shipments are coming out of here.”

Big drugs meant big money. Mandy couldn't figure out why they didn't have a money trail. None of the merchants in town were reporting strangers making expensive purchases or locals with more cash than normal.

“What we need is more manpower,” Ken stated firmly.

“Dream on,” Fred scoffed.

He was right. Besides her two full-time deputies, she had only three part-time men to help cover a county of more than nine hundred square miles made up of rural farms, ranches and a few tiny towns. Their budget wouldn't stretch to provide more men. Even the fire department was made up of mostly volunteers.

Like a large portion of Kansas, her countryside was dotted with abandoned farmsteads, barns and dense wooded gullies, hundreds of places where illicit drug makers could set up shop without being seen. Places like this trailer.

Where would they set up shop next? Hopefully, outside of her county. She rubbed her aching neck. What she wouldn't give to be one step ahead of them instead of two steps behind.

Ken laid a hand on her shoulder. “Are you sure you don't need to go to the hospital?”

She dropped the ice bag on the floor of the ambulance and stood. “I'm sure.”

“Why don't you let Benny drive you back to the office. Fred and I can finish up here. You've had a rough week. It wouldn't hurt you to take the rest of the day off.”

Burning cars, exploding trailers—Mandy did feel beat-up, but she wasn't one to shirk her job. “I'm fine.”

Fred's brow settled into a scowl. “I can handle this.”

Ken stepped closer. “If it was one of us, you'd make us go.”

Knowing Ken spoke the truth, she nodded in resignation. “I think I will go back, but call me if you find anything.”

“Yes, boss,” Ken agreed with a grin.

Fred didn't smile, but he did begin barking orders to the firemen still raking through the ashes.

The ride back to town jolted every sore muscle in Mandy's body. If it was this bad now, she wasn't looking forward to tomorrow.

At the office, Donna's plump face knitted into a sharp frown as Mandy walked in. “Good grief! Are you okay?”

“I'd be better if you had two aspirin somewhere in one of your magic bags.”

“Aspirin, ibuprofen, band aids, chewing gum, I've got about everything.” She drew forth an enormous leopard-print purse. At least three times a month she came in with a new bag. Donna was a self-proclaimed shopping network addict.

“Just the aspirin.”

Digging into the shoulder bag, Donna came up with a bottle and shook two white tablets into Mandy's outstretched hand. “I heard they got away.”

“Yes, they did, but we didn't miss them by much. They'll slip up again and we'll nab them.

“Any leads?”

“Not yet. The fire chief recovered the remains of a timer. We're sending it off to have it checked for prints.”

“Where are the men?”

“Benny brought me back. I sent him home. Ken and Fred are still out at the site.”

“For how long?”

“For as long as it takes, Donna.” Mandy didn't mean to sound exasperated, but all she wanted to do was sit down somewhere dark and let the aspirin do its job.

It was clear she'd ruffled the dispatcher's feathers. “You
know how I like to keep track of my people. Maybe I can't be out in the field with you, but I can do the best possible job right here.”

“You do a great job, Donna. No one keeps better tabs on this county than you do.”

Relaxing a bit, Donna inclined her head. “Thank you. Shari Compton called. I put her through to your voice mail, and your mother called.”

“Did Mom say what she wanted?”

“No. She just said for you to give her a call when you got the chance.”

Mandy wasn't looking forward to
that
conversation. There was no way around it. Her mother was going to hear from someone about the explosion. It would be better coming from Mandy than from some second-or thirdhand source. “Anything else?”

“Nope.”

“The case files on the murder Judy Bowen witnessed should have been here by now. Have you seen it yet?”

“No, I haven't. You know how those big-city departments can be. They move at the speed of refrigerated molasses.”

“They aren't usually this slow. Could you please e-mail them a reminder?”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Nodding her thanks, Mandy walked into her office and closed the door. Settling into the padded black chair at her desk, she picked up the phone and listened to her message.

“Sheriff, this is Shari Compton. I'll be making a home visit to assess Garrett Bowen's place in the morning. I received a copy of his background check. Thank you. There won't be a need to have an officer accompany me tomorrow. Mr. Bowen's visit went very well today. I'll get a full report back to you in a day or two. Goodbye.”

Mandy chewed the corner of her lip as she pressed the delete button. Because Garrett had one uneventful visit with Colin didn't mean he was the best option for the child's future. She had no illusions about the child welfare system. While she didn't doubt Miss Compton's intentions or her commitment to the children assigned to her, Mandy knew that like everyone in her office the woman was overworked. She would want Colin's case settled as quickly as possible.

Mandy's county didn't have its own social worker. There simply wasn't enough money in the state's budget or people willing to take on the job. When Mandy's office did have a child in need of care, a worker was assigned from another county. Very few enjoyed the long drive to her town. Sometimes, they didn't even know how to find Timber Wells.

Colin Bowen wasn't going to fall through the cracks of the system and end up in a questionable home if Mandy had anything to say about it.

She punched in the numbers to return the woman's call. When Miss Compton picked up, Mandy got right to the point. “This is Sheriff Scott. I'll be going with you to the Bowen place tomorrow. What time is our meeting?”

 

When Garrett answered the knock at his front door the next morning, he'd been home exactly ten minutes. Expecting to see Miss Compton, he tried to hide his surprise at the sight of Mandy standing on his porch.

The sight of fresh bruises on her face brought back sharp memories of his mother.

The thought of someone hurting Mandy the way his mother had been hurt sent a spurt of anger through him. It was followed closely by bitter guilt. Someone had failed to protect Mandy the way he'd failed to protect his mother.

He hadn't given much thought to how dangerous the
sheriff's job could be. Mandy always seemed in control, as if nothing fazed her. Seeing her now made him more aware than ever that she was a flesh-and-blood woman.

A woman he found himself attracted to in spite of how foolish that was. He pushed aside the thought and schooled his voice into neutrality. “What happened to you?”

“Irate egg timer.”

He stepped back as she walked into the house. “Most people blame it on a door.”

After her eyes swept the room, she turned to face him. “I'm not most people.”

No kidding.
Most people
didn't set his pulse racing or make him aware of how empty his life was.

“I was expecting Miss Compton this morning.”

“I'm sure she's on her way. Don't mind me, I'm just here as an observer.”

Tipping her head slightly, Mandy subjected him to closer scrutiny than he liked. She said, “You don't look so good. Tough night?”

His fast trip to the sale barn in Junction City yesterday had resulted in only twenty heads of cattle instead of the promised forty because he'd arrived so late. He'd had to travel on to a second sale in Concordia adding two hundred miles to what should have been a forty-mile trip.

The only good thing was that he got the remaining cattle he needed at a price that would make his client happy. After that, any good luck he still had ran out.

On the way home, his truck died, leaving him stranded twenty miles from nowhere. He'd hitched a ride into the next town and got a tow, but the repair shop owner didn't have the parts needed to fix it. Garrett had to wait until the local auto parts store opened this morning.