Montana Fire (19 page)

W
hen Max answered his cell, he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what his friend had to
say. “Hey, Trent.”

“We found the man who followed Becky.” Relief filled his voice.

That hadn’t been what Max expected Trent to call about, but he was thrilled. “Can
you link him to a local cell?” Max twisted in his seat to make sure Jamie couldn’t
read his lips. The whole idea that domestic terrorists existed in town needed to be
kept quiet.

“We know his name because he has a record, but we can’t link him to any terrorist
cell. The mayor said he’d send the information to his FBI contact, and let them tell
us whether the man is dangerous.”

“You’re detaining him, I trust?”

“Yes, and he’s demanding a lawyer, so there’s little hope we’ll learn much. We don’t
really have anything to hold him on since the man didn’t speak with Becky or touch
her. It’s her word against his. I’m just hoping the FBI comes through for us.”

“Me, too. What about the clinic workers? Are they going to be safe?”

“Yes. We’ve got that covered. Hold on a sec.” Voices sounded but Max couldn’t tell
what they were saying. “That was Dan. Seems our invisible FBI team is going to pick
up this dude. He’s one of the men that Vic Hart had previously pointed a finger at
as being involved. This was the first time he’d surfaced.”

Max slumped back in his seat. He wasn’t sure if that eased or increased his anxiety.
If this terrorist cell had targeted Becky Andrews, it seemed more likely that Jamie
was involved, too. Only how? “Does Becky know?”

“I’m about to call her as soon as I hang up.”

“Good. I’ll speak with Jamie again about what she and Becky did that night. Since
a few days have passed, her memory might have cleared.”

“Good. Let me know.”

“By the way, I asked Jamie to stay with me to make sure she remains out of harm’s
way.”

“She was okay with that?”

Max hadn’t discussed their new intimate status. “Yes. Let’s leave it at that.” Trent
whistled. Right now, Max’s concern was Jamie. “Did the Feds give you any odds on the
likelihood these men might attack again?” He hoped the FBI had told the mayor something.

Max glanced through the office window at Jamie sitting at his desk, reading. Her presence
helped him stay focused.

“So far, the Feds haven’t been forthcoming with shit, but we can always hope. My men
and I plan to speak with the other clinic employees, but I’m not getting my hopes
up that they know anything. Was Jamie able to give you any insight?”

“No. She’s stunned right now. It seems as if she and her boss got along well. Jamie’s
torn up about her death.”

“I’m sorry. You planning on her staying with you until this stuff is over?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’ll keep pushing from my end. We’ll get the bastards.” Trent rang off.

Because Jamie had glanced his way a few times, he needed to tell her the man after
Becky had been caught. He pushed back his chair and strode out. “I have the tiniest
bit of good news.”

She straightened. “I’ll take a crumb.”

Since Rich hadn’t come into work yet, Max pulled over his chair and sat next to her.
“They caught the man following Becky.”

Her face brightened, but it wasn’t enough to erase the tension lining her eyes. “That’s
wonderful. Who was he?”

Jamie had guessed that her friend might be an undercover agent, but she hadn’t hinted
that she knew anything about why Jonathan was in Rock Hard. Max needed to keep her
in the dark a bit longer.

“We know the man’s name, and that he has a record, but that’s all. He’s lawyered up.
The important thing is that he can’t hurt Becky anymore.”

Jamie closed her eyes for a moment. Max didn’t like the deep shadows under her lids,
or how her skin pulled tight across her cheeks. They’d stopped at a fast food place
for breakfast, but she’d only picked at her food. When he’d been in the depths of
despair, food held no interest for him either.

“Does she know the good news?” Some life filled her face.

“Trent is about to call her. That was him on the phone.” Max leaned forward, his elbows
on his knees. “Can you take me through the evening from when you arrived at Banner’s
Bar to when Becky called you that night?”

“We already told you everything.”

He hadn’t meant to cause her more anxiety. “I know, honey, but can you go through
it again? For me?” The last two words did the trick. He saw the moment his plea caused
her to relent.

“Fine, but there’s nothing there.”

He squeezed her hand once. “That’s okay. Let me decide.” When he was in cop mode,
the malaise that seemed to follow him, lessened.

“I’ll admit I was a little shaken from my car breaking down and from the first break-in,
so I was careful to watch where I was going. I even checked for black vans.”

His senses sharpened. “Did you see anyone suspicious?”

She huffed. “The streets looked like a black van convention. I saw a few parked on
the street and one or two drive by. One of the drivers even wore a cap. As if that
made him different from the rest of the Rock Hard men.” She huffed out a laugh.

Jamie didn’t seem to think that was important, but he did. “Keep going.”

“When Becky showed up, I gave her a present I’d found for her. Then another friend,
Lydia Sayers arrived, and we all went in.”

“Did you recognize any of the men in the bar?”

That got a laugh out of her. “I was there to talk with my friends, not scope out the
place for a date.”

Her comment made him feel better. Jamie was just trying to survive.

“Then what?”

“Then nothing. We chatted and Zoey offered to drive me home. She said she had a hot
date with Thad and Pete.”

He’d heard what happened after that. “That’s good.”

She leaned forward. “Does it help?”

“That’s one thing about police work. Nothing seems to help until the pieces come together.
Then it can be the link that unlocks the case.”

Rich came in and abruptly stopped when he spotted Jamie. He raised a brow. “Good morning.
It’s Jamie, right?”

“Yes.”

Rich had seen her when she’d come to the first crime scene. Max gave the formal introduction.
“Jamie’s friend is Jonathan Rambler—the one who was caught in the fire.”

Max raised his brows hoping Rich would get the clue to keep quiet. Max hadn’t let
his assistant in on the fact there were domestic terrorists in Rock Hard. The information
would be doled out on a need-to-know basis.

“I’m sorry about your friend.”

“Thank you.”

Max stood and looked down at Jamie, who seemed so small and lost. He wanted to hug
her and tell her everything would be okay, but he wasn’t one to lie. “I need to get
back to work. I didn’t bring anything from home to eat, so we’ll have to do lunch
out.”

Jamie’s lips lifted for a moment, clearly seeing through his lie. “Sure. I’ll sit
here and read.”

*     *     *

On the way to lunch at Italiano’s, she and Max agreed not to talk about the tragedy,
believing anyone overhearing the conversation might become frightened. Their meal
was a bit strained, as they both seemed lost in their own thoughts. Jamie wanted to
face what was happening, but she didn’t know the whole truth. She understood Max couldn’t
tell her anything more about Jonathan’s connection to all this crime until he’d filed
some kind of paperwork.

The meal wasn’t a total loss, however. One nice thing about Max eating the same restaurant
every day was that people knew him. A few knew Jamie, too. Several stopped at their
table and offered their condolences about the deaths at the clinic. It was nice to
know so many people cared.

After they ate, he drove her back to the station, where she resumed her position at
his desk. Being a lump on a log was okay for one day, but she couldn’t sit and do
nothing tomorrow. The silence would drive her crazy, not to mention the growing fear
that these murderers were still out there.

Finally, five o’clock rolled around, and Max said they could leave. From what Rich
told her, Max usually stayed at work until long after he was gone. She really appreciated
that Max was willing put her needs above his work.

Assuming Max didn’t have other plans, once they got back to his house, she wanted
to sit with him and watch old movies—assuming he was into that kind of thing.

“Ready to chow?” Max asked, as he came out of his office.

“I’m not really hungry.” Max lowered his chin. “Okay, okay. I’ll try.”

He smiled and her insides stirred. “That’s my girl.”

Ever since Max had come over to her house to listen to Becky’s story, Jamie had begun
to believe that Max just might consider her to be his girl. If she wasn’t such a mess
emotionally, she’d have been overjoyed.

“Italiano’s okay?”

She laughed. “Yes, but someday, I’ll have to break you of that habit.”

“I like the someday part.”

Heat raced up her face. She hadn’t meant to imply they had a future, but she would
be amenable.

They sat at Max’s usual spot, and she ordered the ravioli again. The meal tasted okay,
but Jamie didn’t have much of an appetite and picked at her food. Max didn’t eat with
his usual gusto either.

As they nibbled, her mind kept darting between subjects. During her musings, she remembered
Sasha asking her about Max’s family, and if he had a spare brother. Jamie had called
Sasha from the firehouse. Her friend wasn’t doing much better than Jamie was. Perhaps
if Sasha had someone to take her mind off her troubles, she’d heal faster.

Jamie washed down the food with her coffee. “I never asked, but are you from around
here? I know you said your dad worked at a paper mill, and that your folks retired
to Florida, but I never asked the name of the town.” Just because he went to the junior
college in town, didn’t mean he was born and raised in Rock Hard.

Max hesitated, almost as if he wondered why the sudden interest. “I am a native.”

Perhaps that was why everyone seemed to know him. “Do your siblings still live here?”

“Trying to see if there are any skeletons in my closet?”

Thank God he was back into flirting mode. It helped her cope. “Totally.”

A small smile emerged, as if he might be pleased she was taking an interest in something
other than the tragedy. “Sam and Amelia still live in town. Sam, who’s thirty-six,
works at the paper mill. He’s in management now. Wouldn’t be surprised if they make
him manager of the whole damned place someday.”

The pride in his voice was evident. “And Amelia?”

“Mel, as we call her, is the baby at thirty-three. She’s been married and divorced,
and only now is getting her life together. Despite some of her issues, she was a huge
help to me after the fire.”

Crap. Jamie hadn’t planned for that topic to come up. “And your other brother?”

“Jack is forty-one. He never got along with the folks and moved out after high school.
Twenty years later, he landed his ass in Mississippi at a pest control company. Doing
pretty well, too. Has a wife and two happy kids.” His voice trailed off as if he envied
that part of his brother’s life. Max set down his fork. “I never asked if you had
siblings.”

Jamie’s throat constricted. “Only a half-sister. Let’s just say Evelyn and I never
saw eye-to-eye.”

“A tale better told later, I take it?”

She liked that about Max. He seemed to know when to probe and when to pull back. “Yes.”

Elissa came over with the bill, and Max paid. “Tomorrow morning, I’ll drive you over
to Richardson’s Automotive so you can pick up Grayson.” He stood and helped Jamie
with her coat. “But don’t think that means you’re free to roam, young lady.”

“You’re a spoilsport.” But he sure was a loveable one.

On the way to his SUV, she caught him glancing right and left, most likely checking
for black vans or men wearing caps. That didn’t help her anxiety level.

Max held open the car door and she slid in. Once he was seated, he drove toward his
house. “As much as I love having a roommate, with the clinic closed for a while, have
you considered leaving town for a few days until we figure out who harmed your friends?”

Harmed? Try murdered. She could tell from the sincerity that he was thinking what
was best for her. “You mean like fly home? To California?”

“Would that be so bad? You’d be safe there.”

She shrugged. “I guess, but it cost a lot to fly, and seeing my mom would be depressing.”
At least Evelyn had moved out of state a few years ago.

He glanced over at her. “You two don’t get along? I didn’t realize the animosity extended
beyond your sister.”

Jamie didn’t want to get into it. “Being around my mom is like stepping into a pool
of disappointment.”

“That bad, huh? If you ask me, your mom is a fool. She should be very proud of all
you’ve accomplished.”

His words helped. “Thank you, but I think I’ll pass on the sunny vacation.”

“If you went, you could sleep without worry.”

“You seem quite convinced that I need to hide.” The food in her belly churned.

Max worked his mouth and gripped the wheel. “Here’s the thing. We don’t know what
we’re up against. If I knew for sure, I would warn you. The offer stands for me to
be your temporary bodyguard.”

“Thank you. I’d like that. Do you think we could stop at my house so I can pick up
some more clothes? I only packed enough for one night.”

He grinned. “You got it.”

He turned off the road into her neighborhood. Once in her drive, he cut the engine.
Once more he opened her door and she slipped out. Max was worming his way into her
heart fast. Hell, he was already there.

As soon as they stepped onto her porch, she stopped. “Are you kidding me?”

He wrapped an arm around her waist. “What’s wrong?”

She pointed to the broken living room window. “Someone broke my freaking window. I
can’t believe it.” The porch light barely illuminated that side of the house, so it
was difficult to tell the extent of the damage.