Chapter 25

TWENTY-FIVE

Unaccustomed to the tangled feelings rushing through him, Styles stood and walked to the window. He took a few deep breaths staring into the coming evening but not really seeing anything. During his time in the military police, he was a leader and a role model. The director had sent Beth to his office for him to be a good influence over her. Sure, he took the law into his own hands some of the time, but rather than having men doing jail time for a stupid mistake, they were working and going back to their families. He earned their respect most of the time, but voicing his innermost feelings to Beth had been a mistake. He needed to regroup and move forward. His sister was safe and he had a handsome nephew. He should be happy—but he wasn't.

"Do you want to hear something funny?" Beth walked to his side and inclined her head to look at him. "Last week when I was in TJ's, Wez came to chat with me. TJ was doing something or other. Well, Wez figured we don't act or speak like FBI agents."

Styles kept his eyes fixed on the mountains in the distance. A line of clouds had gathered on the horizon, and he wondered if winter was really over. Although the trees were showing the first burst of spring, the temperature still plummeted every night. "We don't dress like city FBI agents. It wouldn't be practical in this weather or terrain." The idea of speaking like one of the FBI agents on TV made him smile. They'd never been permitted to use technical jargon when speaking to the public. "How exactly are FBI agents meant to speak? We're trained to communicate effectively and professionally when dealing with the public. We're human like everyone else and can tell corny jokes to each other here in the office, but I figure we act with due respect to people in the street."

"I told him he was watching too much TV." She grinned at him. "I also mentioned that he sees us in our downtime. If we haul him in for questioning, he might see a different side to us."

Nodding, Styles turned to look at her. She was very good at deflecting problems away from their working relationship by making inane conversation to break the tension. Or with antidotes about crazy times in her life to lessen the stress of horrific crime scenes. It was these little side conversations that prevented them from becoming robotic, heartless investigators. He met her gaze. "That's true. Can you imagine the complaints if they depicted real crime scenes and investigations in TV shows. Even the true crime shows give a clinical version of the truth. The true horror of what we must endure is never depicted."

"Which brings me around to your comments earlier." Beth sat on the windowsill in front of him. "I'm sure that's not the first time you felt like doing violence to a criminal after seeing what they've done. Heck, I feel like that most times. I've come to the conclusion it's quite normal to be angry against someone who has perpetrated a vicious crime against a child. The fact it was your sister only makes it worse." She searched his face as if trying to see inside him. "There are many people involved in this case and we need to channel our anger into stopping them."

Styles nodded. "Yeah, I will. Thanks, Beth."

Without thinking, he squeezed her shoulder and then dropped his hand. He understood Beth had a problem with anyone touching her. He had battled against office protocol when she'd been in desperate need of a shoulder to cry on after they'd been arrested. It had been playing on his mind all night. He'd be fooling himself if he refused to believe he didn't find Beth attractive. Foolish and blind. In truth, he craved a little compassion from someone as well. He frowned at her. "I'm really sorry, Beth. I shouldn't have touched you. It was inappropriate."

"Do you know how long it's been since someone gave me a hug when I was upset?" She looked at him and her eyes filled with tears. "My mom." She squeezed his arm. "I was so alone in that interrogation room. My mind was replaying everything that happened like grotesque reruns. When you gave me a hug, the world stopped rushing by on fast-forward." She blinked and one fat tear ran down her cheek. "You've been kind and nonjudgmental since I arrived and accepted my quirky behavior. I appreciate you more than you know." She smiled at him. "You don't have an inappropriate bone in your body. Trust me, if you crossed the line, you'd end up on your backside."

Relieved, Styles chuckled. "That's good to know." He glanced at his watch. "We'll be leaving at eight in the morning. I think I'll call it a day. I'll take Bear for a walk and then head to my apartment. Unless you need me for anything."

"I've gone just about as far as I can for now." Beth slipped from the windowsill. "I need a fresh start. It's intense work and I'm way too tired. I'll rinse our cups and then head up for a nice hot shower." She looked at him. "If Cash calls with an update, let me know, but I'll be in bed by ten."

Styles whistled to Bear and, grabbing his coat and hat, headed for the door. He needed a walk to digest everything Beth had told him. Since she'd arrived her lack of emotion had concerned him. He understood she'd been through a bad time and had ghosts from her past, but it had taken over a year for her to drop her guard around him. The lack of empathy that had concerned the director must have been a wall she'd built around herself to prevent getting hurt. He walked out of the building and pushed his hat onto his head as an arctic blast hit his warm flesh, sending goosebumps running up his arms. He quickened his pace along Main with Bear running ahead, sniffing the grass alongside the sidewalk. Having Beth trust him at last was an incredible step forward. He wouldn't let her down.

As he headed into the park, Bear was used to having the freedom to run and disappeared into the half-light. Styles followed him through the shadows with the grass squelching underfoot. The daytime sun had been too weak to dry out the sodden soil. Along the perimeter of the park, piles of gray melting snow filled with dead leaves, sticks, and candy wrappers was all that remained from the deep snowdrifts of winter. He'd walked about one hundred yards, when the crack of a rifle rang out. Beside him, splinters exploded from a tree, showering him with small pieces of bark. Survival instinct dropped into place, and he ducked into the line of trees surrounding the park as another bullet stripped the branches from the tree beside him. There was no mistake. A sniper had him pinned down.

Images of the town flashed through his mind as he considered the shooter's position. He could almost picture the rifle fitted with a suppressor resting on the windowsill of one of the redbrick two stories across the road, or maybe the roof. Not the bank but maybe the library. It would be easily accessible with a lockpick. More shots peppered the trees around him, and he pressed his back against a broad pine. So he'd been right. They had sent more goons to silence them or warn them off.

How had they located him? They couldn't have been waiting all day. Realization hit him and he cursed under his breath. He'd made a classic mistake. Each night, when he was at home, he took Bear for a walk in the park around eight before settling down for the night. He recalled TJ once saying that he could set his clock by him as he would often drop by the bar and grill on his way home. He shook his head, trying to get to terms with the idea that other people had been watching his movements. It had been only a couple of days since he went looking for Ginny. It made no sense. They'd need to follow his movements, unless Beth had triggered an alarm on the dark web when she was hunting down Ginny's whereabouts. It seemed impossible as she was so fastidious about covering her tracks, but right now he had no other explanation. As bullets whizzed past him, he pulled out his phone and called Cash to explain the situation. He needed a distraction to get away. "I haven't seen a muzzle flash. From the angle, maybe he's shooting from a window in the library or from the roof."

"I'll roll down Main, lights and sirens. That will get his attention so you can move. When you get clear, head down toward the river. I'll meet you there and give you a ride back to the office."

Styles duckwalked to the next tree and then into deeper cover behind bushes. "Nah, take me to the library. It should be closed at this time of night. I'd like to know who's trying to kill me."

Two more rounds hit close by, showering him with pine needles, and heart pounding, Styles changed direction. "Best you make it fast. The sniper must have a night vision scope. That was a little too close."

"Copy that." Cash disconnected.

Pfft, pfft, pfft. The rifle discharged. The rounds stripping the tree trunks around Styles' position, pinning him down. He heard the unmistakable sound of Bear running toward him through the thick vegetation and groaned. Charging under fire was what Bear had done many times before. He had no fear of gunfire or bombs going off around him. His priority was keeping his owner safe. A sense of dread washed over Styles. "Bear. Down. Stay. I'm okay. Stay."

A whine came from his far right and he breathed a sigh of relief. "Good boy. Down. Stay." In the distance the sound of sirens wailed in the night and blue and red lights strobed across the park as Cash headed toward the library. In his pocket, Styles' phone vibrated against his chest. He pulled it out. "I'm kinda busy right now, Beth."

"The sirens, is that to do with you?" Beth's footsteps echoed on tile. "What's happening? Where are you?"

Shaking his head, Styles pushed in an earbud and attempted to crawl away. "I'm pinned down by a sniper. Cash is distracting him, so hopefully I'll be out of danger soon. I can't talk now. I'm moving deeper into the forest." He disconnected, stood, and ran, weaving between the trees. "Bear, come on boy."

When they reached the river, he kept low and ran along the sandy bank, coming out of the forest near the parking lot where Cash was waiting with the back door of his cruiser thrown open. Styles heaved Bear inside and dived in behind him. "Am I glad to see you."

"Stay down, I drove slow and searched the windows but didn't make out the muzzle of a rifle." Cash headed down a backstreet and parked in an alleyway. "If the shooter is on the move, he'll be using the back entrance. We'll be able to catch him if he came this way." He climbed out of the vehicle drawing his Glock.

Styles followed, his hand resting on the .357 Magnum strapped to his thigh. He could draw it fast if need be. "I'll be surprised if it's only one sniper. They sent four men to attack us last time."

"Seems to me you've gotten yourself into a mess of trouble." Cash eased around the corner and then froze. "The back door to the library is wide open."

Being in similar situations many a time, Styles pulled his weapon. "It might be a trap. Stay low and stick to the wall. I'll cover you. Go!" He aimed at the doorway, but nothing moved in the shadows.

He dashed across the courtyard and pressed his back to the wall on the opposite side of the door to Cash. "Go low." He aimed his revolver around the doorframe and then eased inside.

No sound, nothing came from inside the library. He walked up the stairs, watching for any movement. The first door they came to was locked. "There's no sign this was picked. We'll try the roof."

As they turned onto the next flight of stairs, a whine and a creak came from above. A cool breeze rushed toward them, and Styles turned to Cash. "They've gone." He holstered his weapon and used the flashlight on his phone to illuminate the roof. It was empty, as they suspected, but as they walked along the perimeter, Styles picked up a glint in the dark. He bent to examine the casings spilling across the ground. He pulled out an examination glove from his pocket and collected them, folding the glove around them before dropping them into his jacket. "I'll check them for fingerprints, but I doubt it will be any help. The guys who attacked us before didn't exist."

"Like I said"—Cash shook his head slowly—"you've gotten yourselves in a mess of trouble this time. When are they sending in the cavalry?"

Styles shrugged. "As far as I know, we're on our own."