True Love Lost (An FBI Romance Thriller (book 3)) (4 page)

“Lucky you,”
Sheila Court answered back, cracking her gum. Working for Duffy was a mixed blessing. There was the truly awesome part of having a hot boss to think about all day, and then there was the bad part. James Duffy was a skirt chaser. He’d chase, catch, sleep with and then move on to the next skirt. Where she liked her men to be a little more monogamous, and a lot less tag them and bed them.

Red River was a tiny town, and there weren’t really any eligible bachelors worth the time or effort. The town
bordered an Indian Reservation, and quite a few Natives worked in town. Not that she cared either way, but she didn’t really find Indian men sexy. She liked them blue-eyed, blonde, and less smart than herself. That way she could use the fine art of manipulation.

Flirt, wink,
and buy me a drink. It was easy and she liked easy. Native men took too much effort, and that was time spent not focused on her.

“Yeah, I guess
I am lucky,” Duffy answered, heading into his office. “I’m going to take care of some paperwork. Why don’t you call it a day, Sheila? It seems pretty quiet here, and it looks like there might be some snow coming tonight. I think I can answer my own phone for the rest of shift.”

“Thanks Jimmy. I think I will,” she said, standing. “But if you need anything, you give me a call you hear?”

James Duffy knew why she’d want the call. Sheila was a good person, but she also was a tad bit on the gossip-y side. When she wanted to dig for information, she would find it like a pig on a truffle hunt. The Sheriff grinned as he thought about that analogy, and how it would get his ass kicked if she even got wind of it. So it was best to just keep it his own private joke in his head. The blonde was high maintenance and would shit a ton of bricks if she heard herself being compared to a pig.

“Night Jimmy,”
Sheila called from the other room. The minute the door closed behind her there was the sound of desk chair scraping the wooden floor.

“Thanks for sending her home,” Julian Littlemoon said from the doorway.

James Duffy laughed. “Rough afternoon?”

“Oh yeah, it wasn’t pretty here while you were gone,” he
answered, entering and sitting down in the spare chair. Julian Littlemoon liked his boss a great deal. Then again, he was pretty laid back for the only Native on staff. He rolled with just about everything, because he had to working there.

“What did Sheila do?” he asked, almost afraid to have to deal with it. Along with being a gossip, Sheila tended to be a bit… bitchy.

Julian Littlemoon was his eyes and ears when he wasn’t around. He trusted the man completely. When it came to being a deputy, he just had that innate skill to be present but be unseen. The very dark brown eyes missed nothing. Julian Littlemoon was good at blending into the crowd and finding things that went missing. If you needed something tracked down, ask Julian Littlemoon.

He was your man.

The irony behind it all was that Julian was imposing in size and you’d think he’d be the center of attention, especially since he didn’t really look like the rest of the community.

“
The mayor called this afternoon, to inform us that there have been a few complaints about the abandoned Boy Scout camp off the river.”

“Vagrants?”

“No, apparently there’s a smell.”

James Duffy leaned back in his chair. “Okay, and what did Sheila say to him, or don’t I want to know?”

Littlemoon laughed. “You probably don’t want to know. I did hear her tell him that he was more than welcome to come down Monday morning and talk to you personally about cutting the funding to the department.” Julian snickered at the look on his face.

“Well shit
that can’t be good,” he said, flipping through his missed call notes on his desk. “He called four times?”

“About that many I suppose. I was out on patrol for a few hours.”

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered.

“
Yeah those words came up too.” Julian saluted him and headed back out to his desk. He was off duty in less than two hours, and he hoped it wouldn’t drag by like it usually did. What he wouldn’t give for some excitement. Working on his Rez would be more exciting, than playing desk jockey on a snowy Sunday afternoon in Red River.

Sheriff James Duffy weighed his options. If he pretended
to not know that the mayor called, he was going to have to discipline Sheila and deal with the mayor in the morning. If he went out to the camp and snooped around before it got too dark, he could save Sheila’s job and a whole lot of bitching tomorrow.

Yeah, he better do the responsible thing and head on out to the camp. With a sigh, he dropped his hat onto his head and grabbed his flashlight from on top of the file cabinet. Chances are it was a dead deer or a bear carcass from a poacher, but he’d check just in case.
There were mountain lions out this time of the year, and often they had a carcass turn up. Last week’s warm up must have kicked up the decay.

“Julian, want to ride shotgun for the next hour while we go look for the stink?”

Two hours of boredom or an hour of looking for some decaying animal? Yep, he’d take the dead animal any day. “I’m with you, Sheriff. It has to be better than sitting here waiting for the snow to fall.”

“Bring a shotgun, just in case we find some hungry animal that gets pissy that we’re snooping around its dinner.”

“Got it sheriff. I’ll meet you out at the truck.”

James Duffy wished all his employees were as easy going as Julian, or
maybe the better wish would be that the other employees would just quit.

Either way it was a win-win for him.

The ride out to the old camp was a slow one. Now that nightfall was coming, it was making the roads freeze and the driving conditions treacherous. Maybe letting Sheila get shit canned by the mayor would have been a more favorable option after all. The fact they could die out on the road trying to find a dead animal rang of irony. Where had this day gone wrong? Oh yeah, he knew. It was when he came back into work.

“Shit, it’s wicked out tonight, Boss.”

Sheriff James Duffy agreed completely. “If this is some half eaten deer carcass, I swear I’m going to let Sheila tear the mayor a new one while I make popcorn and watch.”

Julian Littlemoon laughed. “I’m pretty sure she won’t allow popcorn
, because she hates the smell,” he added. “So you better pick up some snack item that she won’t scrunch her nose up at. Perhaps water?”

The Sheriff laughed. “Okay, there’s the main building. Let’s start there and
make the rounds,” he suggested.

“Want to split up?” he asked.

“Hell no, there’s only three buildings, and we have one shot gun. You think my pea shooter will take down a raging elk or a mad mountain lion?”

“Way to think about self-preservation,” he answered
, laughing and checking the chamber for shotgun shells.

“It’s a proven fact that Nature goes for the white meat first.”

Julian Littlemoon snickered. “It’s your cross to bear since you stole our land. Get over it,” he said, laughing.

“Come on, let’s get this done and I’ll buy you a beer in town, Julian.”

“Works for me, Boss,” he nodded, and walked with the man through the snow, hoping they didn’t encounter a confused bear that came out of hibernation early.

Well, he did ask for excitement.

Two buildings later, they were wet and believed the complaints and the Mayor were full of shit. Nothing smelled out there, but the reminiscent stench of wasted time that could have been more productively used elsewhere. Maybe it was the breeze blowing by and carrying any stink away from them, or maybe it was just the fact that there was nothing there to smell unless you had the nose of a bloodhound. As they approached the third and final building, they were glad they were almost finished.

“Last one, Julian
, and we get the hell out of here.”

He looked around. “I think I finally smell something, Boss.” He stopped and sniffed the air, and looked at the building. “Something’s
definitely dead in there.”

“
You must have a super nose my Indian friend. I smell pine, and now wet leather coat. That’s all my nose is picking up.”

“No
Boss, really. Something’s dead in there.”

Sheriff James Duffy approached the door and still nothing. “Let’s get this done,” he said, pushing the door open and shining his flashlight into the darkness. Before he saw it, he was assaulted with the smell of dead body.
Oh yeah, something was decaying.

“Holy
shit,” muttered his deputy, and then he saw the problem. Staring back at him wasn’t the carcass of a dead animal, but the dead sightless eyes of five men.

Sheriff Duffy slammed the door. “About that beer, Julian.”

“Yeah, better make it five. Suddenly one won’t cut it.”

Monday Morning

Elizabeth Blackhawk sat on the corner of her husband’s desk and sipped her coffee. They had both just been in a budget meeting, and she was still feeling the after effects. Tedium and using the phrase ‘bored to tears’ wouldn’t be too far from the truth at that point. What she needed was a good adrenaline rush, a trip to the field, and an assignment where she had to use her brain to find the killer and not add a bunch of numbers. That was pencil pusher bullshit, and she was a special agent for a reason. Her best skills were utilized in the field and not sitting on her ass.

As she watched her husband leaf through a few papers on his desk, her mind immediately began to wander. There
Ethan was in all his Native American glory. Sexy tan skin hidden under his well-fitted suit, and it didn’t even matter to her that he spent a small fortune on looking that good. The reward was all hers, since she was the one allowed to openly leer at her husband.

Then she noticed
he’d even forgotten to pull his jet black hair back this morning. Oh yeah, what she wouldn’t do to run her fingers through the silky strands right now. It wasn’t lost on her that he was letting it grow in a little longer than he normally would. If she could just slip closer to him, then she could…

“Elizabeth, really?” he said
, looking up.

“What?”
She tried to feign innocence, but the look must have been all over her face. Mental note: perfect the poker face if you’re going to think wickedly, dirty thoughts about your husband in the workplace.

Ethan Blackhawk grinned. “I can feel the lecherous stare from here.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m a little distracted by the fact that you didn’t pull you hair back today, and it’s getting longer. It’s very distracting, Mr. Blackhawk.”

“I figured
since I was embracing the return to my heritage; why not entertain my wife by growing it out.” Since marrying Elizabeth he’d found ways to secretly drive her wild. Every now and then, he’d let his hair free of the staunch ponytail he wore. Then sometimes he’d switch up his clothes. He preferred suits and all black in the workplace, but every now and then he’d pull out a white shirt and jeans. It was all to get her hot and bothered.

“Yippee,” she said, enthusiastically. “I do declare, Cowboy, you just admitted that you
’re culpable in making me leer.”

He laughed
at his wife. “Yesterday it was the fact I didn’t wear black to work, and the day before it was my new shiny boots. I’m beginning to think if nothing changes, you’ll blame my breathing.” Who was he kidding? Elizabeth leering gave him a sense of security, and he loved every second of her attention.

Elizabeth shrugged.
“Your wife wants you, however do you sleep at night,” she retorted, grinning. “If I wasn’t pregnant,” she paused and he interjected before she could continue.

“You’d still be doing the same exact thing.” Or so he hoped.
It was silly, but there was always that little fear one day she’d realize she screwed up by marrying a simple Native from the Rez. The scars of the reservation still ran deep, despite the time he was away from it.

Now she laughed, because he was exactly right. It wasn’t his or her fault that she was six months pregnant and the baby hormones were making her a sex fiend. “Well maybe for the next kid I won’t want sex
.” Elizabeth threw it out there. “Livy told me for kids three thru five she didn’t have sex at all.” Then she lifted a brow. “That’s thirty months of no sex. I bet you’d stop bitching about me leering if that happened.”

Just the idea worried him.
“Thirty months of no sex?”

“Think about that, Ethan.” Now she was grinning, because she managed to successfully turn it back on him.
Score one for the slower, pregnant wife.

Ethan leaned back in his chair,
observing the woman perched on the corner of his desk. Yeah, she was beautiful, but the outside had nothing on the woman inside. She was kind, funny and so full of life. The woman before him was his salvation and so much more. They’d been married about nine months now, and every day was an adventure.