Chapter 23

23

Commander Rex Weatherby and his brother, IA Commander Ransom Weatherby, were phenomenally beautiful, unbelievably well-built, incredibly hot men.

They were also beyond terrifying.

They made Steve Wilson look like a ninety-pound weakling. Gunnar, too, for that matter. They weren't quite as tall as Miguel, but they were built just as strong. Terrifying.

Heather forced herself not to take a step back when the two men first stood in greeting when she and Joel Masterson, his deputy Sage Tyler, and Gunnar stepped inside the conference room in the basement of the Talley Inn early the next morning. There was another pair of men waiting next to them. In suits. With DEA badges around their necks.

Heather fought tensing. This was something she definitely wasn't going to like at all. She just knew it. And she was at the back of the conference room—with no real way out. Kind of hard not to feel a little trapped here.

This was Gunnar's case. She was just there as backup. Maybe? Masterson was a place for McKellen to get her out of his way for a few days, for whatever reason? Heather wasn't a fool, after all. McKellen had been rather insistent that only she could go to Wyoming.

No. She wasn't stupid. They were on a life-size chessboard, Heather and Commander Butthead McKellen. And they were playing a game where only he knew the rules.

Daniel had wanted her out of town. Period.

Dance, puppet, dance. And Heather had no real choice but to dance.

"Please, sit down. I've called for someone to come take our drink and snack order in about twenty minutes," Sheriff Masterson said, waving her toward the table. She liked him. He had baby spit up on his shoulder, and freely admitted that was what it was. Heather had a matching spot on her own sweatshirt. "If I'm good, I may get the family discount, considering. Or we'll let Rex ask the love of his life—I'm sure Marin will see we get top service, just for him."

One of the Weatherbys growled. Heather shot him a wary look. He just gave her a half smile. A beautiful smile, no denying that. But that was one man she did not want to be left alone with.

Sheriff Masterson introduced her and Gunnar to the men in the room. Heather knew how to play the game—but she kept her handshake brief. The Weatherby brothers were professional. But the DEA agent, Agent Harnodd, held her hand far too long. He only let go when Gunnar said something to his partner, Agent Otto.

She hated it when men did that.

They never held Gunnar's hand just a bit too long. Or the massive paws of the Commanders Weatherby. Muscle-monsters all of them.

Why were all the men in her world so…massive and muscled?

"What is this about?" Heather asked. No sense beating around the bush.

"We're considering bringing in the DEA," Rex Weatherby practically rumbled. He was big and definitely well-built. With the dark hair, brown eyes, and massive muscles, he reminded her of Miguel, a little. His brother was even more intimidating. "The scope of this is getting too big."

"It's a Finley Creek case," Gunnar said. "You're not the ones in charge."

And no one in Finley Creek would be happy about Wyoming trying to take over either. Heather knew how jurisdictional bull worked.

"Not in Texas, but in Wyoming, I most certainly am," Rex said. "It's bigger than Texas now. And we're not going to just sit back and wait. We've had too many of our people hurt by this. "

" How so?" Heather asked. "What's happened?"

Something certainly had. She could see it in the man's dark eyes.

"Another warehouse for that damned shit was found, just over state lines," his brother, who seemed a little quieter, said. "Two young men were found dead inside. Execution style. But one of our people was shot and is in ICU now. Those men were identified as the ones responsible for assaulting a man behind the inn four days ago."

"We are still putting the pieces together. Neither of the dead men were over the age of twenty. They left grieving families behind," the deputy said.

Heather barely resisted flinching. "I'm so sorry. But don't you think we should sit down here, and try to figure out how to stop all of this together ?"

"Who are you again?" Agent Harnodd asked. He'd somehow ended up right across from her. He was definitely not a muscle-monster, as Cashlyn had described Miguel recently. "What is your role in this case, miss…?"

"Lieutenant," Gunnar said, clear warning in his tone. Something was definitely up with the beautiful Gunnar man. Heather glanced at him quickly. He looked like he hadn't slept even a moment last night. That hot creature was definitely tense. And a little more snappy at people than she had ever seen him be before.

Something had probably happened between him and Powell after they'd all split up last night. Heather wasn't stupid—she'd seen how Gunnar looked at Powell. And at how Powell had looked at Gunnar. They had definitely been circling around each other with some serious heat. It was a wonder her brothers had missed it.

They were so cute together. They were almost enough to make Heather believe in romance again and everything. Almost.

She would never do romance ever again.

"I'm with Major Crimes." She turned back to the brothers and Sheriff Masterson and his deputy. Diplomacy might go further than glares and male posturing. And that meant—it was probably up to her and Deputy Tyler to make that happen. "Look, this case…it's taken a personal toll on all of us. Probably more than you all realize. The ones responsible for this, who are behind the OPJ, they shot two of our forensics techs last week." She looked up. Into Rex Weatherby's eyes. A man whose brother sat right next to him. "One of those techs is my twenty-four-year-old baby sister, Commander Weatherby. The only thing she did wrong that night was clock in to do her job."

"Is she doing okay? Both of them?" Deputy Tyler asked immediately. "I was also shot—and stabbed—because of this drug. As were other people that I care about, including my husband and some of my closest friends. He nearly died. So did I."

"My sister is recuperating, at home now. She had a heart attack during surgery, and we almost lost her. Haldyn, the head of our forensics lab, is also home now. They'll fully recover. Another officer was also shot—he's more critical, but we think he'll make a recovery eventually. He was shot in the back. And the people responsible—they are the ones who shot Charlotte Talley, her colleague Madison, and my niece Zoey over fourteen months ago. One of those men stalked and harassed me for four years. This…this is very personal. For so many of us. We're only going to stop them if we work together on every end."

Truth. She meant it, she knew how these kinds of things could escalate. OPJ was bigger than just Finley Creek now.

Gunnar put his hand on her shoulder. She considered it a win in her favor that she didn't jerk away. There was curiosity on these men's faces. They wanted to know her story. She'd tell it if she had to. If it just helped fix all of this, so it ended the pain for the innocent.

"Look, none of us are interested in territoriality here, or posturing or who does what. We just want to stop this. Before any more innocent people are hurt in the crossfire," Gunnar said.

"Everyone sit down," the deputy said. Heather liked her, she decided. She was no nonsense—quiet, but not cowed by the giants in the room with them now. "Maybe if we all work together, we can actually get something done for once."

It took them three hours to go over the basics of the case from all locations. Heather wasn't impressed with the DEA agents, that was for sure. She was reserving judgment on the rest. But…if she believed in romance, the Weatherby brothers would be good places to start.

Talk about hot. Too bad Cashlyn couldn't see them for herself.

Someone knocked on the door, and it pushed open.

Three more men walked in—two she recognized, one she didn't. And a woman in an FBI polo, followed by a smaller woman wearing a Masterson County sheriff's deputy polo.

Things just got better and better. Heather took her seat, shifting closer to Gunnar, and waited.

Great.

The Heather-pawn was about to be sacrificed.

The King of Major Crimes had just walked in.