“Before you leave,” Jenna placed one small hand on his arm, “did Walters get a list of the other Ford pickups in town? I have the ones Rowley checked out.”
“Not yet but I told him to send what he has before he goes home.” Kane turned in his chair to face her. “I need a list of suspects ASAP. I’m flying blind here. Can you give me the names of anyone you’ve had problems with no matter how trivial, and I’ll see if they match to any of the vehicles on the list?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’d like to go over your movements for the last six weeks. When you did the house-to-house—or should I say ranch-to-ranch—looking for information on Woodward. Could you have stumbled into some illegal activity?”
“I don’t recall anything unusual unless there’s a statute for horse breeding. I seem to make a habit of showing up during mating season or foaling, much to the amusement of the locals.” Her cheeks pinked. “Neither is my cup of tea. I might live here but I’m not a country girl. I couldn’t kill a chicken to save my life.”
“I wondered why you had no livestock.” Kane wiggled his brows. “No dog either. Do you have a problem with animals?”
“I would probably forget to feed a dog.” Jenna lifted her chin and her expression turned serious. He had stepped on a nerve. “Getting back to business. I hope you sent someone out on patrol this afternoon. I like to give visitors the impression of a police presence during the home games.”
Kane nodded. “Sure did. I sent Rowley out to patrol the area in his cruiser before heading home. I’ll need to grab a meal and get some rest before my next shift.”
“I don’t expect you to pull another shift. Consider yourself off-duty.”
“Thanks, but I’m fine.” Kane emptied his cup, placed it on the table, and stood. “What time?”
“The game starts at seven and Rowley and Daniels get to the stadium at six thirty.” She smiled and her gaze moved over his face almost intimately. “Our shift starts a
round ten.”
“Okay, I’ll pick you up at nine thirty.” He strolled for the door, grabbing his coat along the way.
The freezing chill slapped his face and seeped into his clothes. The last fall of snow had frozen like the icing on a wedding cake and he crunched his way back to the cottage, huffing out great clouds of steam. He did not like loose ends, and so far the cases in Black Rock Falls had more frayed edges than his favorite pair of jeans.
Thirteen
Kane set the alarm for three hours. The training received during his varied career gave him the capability to sleep anywhere at any time. Although, since the surgeon installed the plate in his head, the pain he endured was unbearable at times, and the nightmares—long, drawn-out horror stories—were par for the course, but now for some reason, he could not get the image of Jenna pointing the gun in his face out of his mind.
Her kill-or-be-killed expression haunted his thoughts. She had been calm; too calm for a normal person following a near-death experience. The overkill of surveillance and security on the property could mean only one thing. Someone had threatened her or she had something to hide. He considered witness protection but the United States Marshals Service would not allow her to become a public figure. To get the treatment he received—a new face and a new life with an unquestionable background—did not come cheap. Who are you, Jenna?
* * *
At nine thirty on the dot, Kane pulled the SUV outside Jenna’s door and sounded the horn. The floodlight over the steps spilled across the driveway and illuminated the steam curling from the SUV’s engine. Although Jenna had tried to dismiss his worries, he refused to brush off the attempt on her life. If he could gain her confidence, she might open up to him but he doubted it. Her expression told him she wore a shield around her of pure titanium. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and stared at the front door. She doesn’t trust me yet but she will.
The door opened and Kane could see Alton turning to set the alarm. After pulling the hood over her dark hair, she closed the door behind her, gripped the handrail, and trod with care down the snow-covered steps. She rounded the car and climbed in beside him with agility, bringing with her a gust of freezing air.
He turned to her. “Where to?”
“The Cattleman’s Hotel.” Alton’s hood obscured her face as she buckled her seat belt and leaned back in the chair. “The hockey crowd drifts out around ten. Rowley and Daniels have parked the cruisers out front and will arrive soon.” She smiled. “At least it appears we’ve been there all evening.”
The accident remained fixed in his mind, and the moment he pulled the SUV into the parking lot, he turned to her. “Do you pin the week’s duty roster on a noticeboard or is it by word of mouth or email?”
“It’s on the noticeboard beside the kitchenette. Why?”
He rubbed his chin. “So it’s not accessible to the general public?”
She gave him one of her long stares, as if she was trying to read his mind.
“Where are you going with this?”
He shrugged, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. “I believe the driver of the Ford pickup planned your accident and knew you went out on your own on Friday night. Who apart from the deputies could have seen the duty roster?”
A flash of apprehension crossed her face but she smothered it with an obviously practiced smile.
“No one is trying to murder me.” She chuckled and waved a hand dismissively. “I wrote up the weekend roster for the home game on Thursday. Every man and his dog knows I only work on weekends during a home game.”
He examined her face, trying to read her, but she was a consummate professional at hiding her emotions. “So you don’t post a duty roster for after-hours call-outs during the week?”
“It’s not necessary; we alternate. This week it was Rowley and me, next week it’s Daniels and Walters.” She let out a long sigh. “This week, I removed Rowley from Friday night and posted it on the board. I guess anyone going to the cells or bathroom could see the list—if they could decipher my writing in a couple of seconds. I think one of us would notice if someone stopped to read the noticeboard.”