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“The guy said he tried to fax earlier, but your machine didn’t accept it.”
“That wasn’t meant for you to hear,” she said quietly.
“How could I help it? He said to check your e-mail, pronto. He referred to additional agents arriving tomorrow and a big shipment coming earlier than expected. Agents, Sara? Shipment? What in the world have you been doing here?”
Knowing that Nathan had such close ties to Ian Flynn, she was glad she hadn’t discussed the case last night. Despite everything her heart told her, there could still be a connection, a chance that he might tip off his godfather. “Is that all he said?”
“He mentioned the Sanderson plant. Half the people in town work down there. You didn’t think I should be involved? That I’d want to help? I’ve worked with the DEA and BCA on countless cases in the past, both in the Minneapolis area and up here.”
“I...couldn’t.”
The anger in his face changed to sheer incredulity. “You thought I might be involved? I truly cared for you, yet you thought—”
“In small towns,” she said, “the web of connection and favors can be complex. We need to be...careful.”
He threw up his hands in disgust. “I have no connection to that plant. I even sold the shares of stock I owned once I was assigned here, just to avoid any conflict of interest.”
“Your godfather owns the place, Nathan. We didn’t know that. He just mentioned it to me a few minutes ago. See? There can be connections that don’t appear on legal documents.”
“You can’t think he’s involved.”
“Look, I don’t know anything for sure, and I can’t say any more. Given the situation, I could detain you until this is all over.”
“Me,” he said flatly.
“Just as a precaution,” she added with more regret than she wanted to feel. “I also need to warn you—any interference or hint that you’ve tipped off someone here in town, and you’ll be arrested on federal drug charges along with everyone else we take down. Even if something happens to me, you’ve been named in my reports—though I’ve indicated my belief that you are clean.”
His expression turned to granite. “That says it all, doesn’t it? Nothing has meant more to me than protecting this town. These people are like family.” His voice turned harsh. “Yet you think I could betray them.”
He shook his head slowly. “My only crime is that I’ve been incredibly stupid for believing you were someone truly special.”
He turned on his heel and walked into the wind toward his squad car, his stride long and resolute, and she knew there’d never be another chance to see the twinkle in his eyes or to hear his wry laughter.
Sara stared after him, then knelt and buried her face in Harold’s warm fur. It was just the biting wind that brought tears to her eyes.
Nothing more than the wind.
* * * *
NATHAN THREW HIS CAR into drive, stepped on the accelerator, then held his breath as the wheels spun in the snow and the car slewed sideways.
He’d never felt such disappointment. He’d hoped they might have a future together, yet she’d been lying all along—then turned around and practically accused him of being involved in drug deals. And threatened to arrest him!
He’d always done his job with complete dedication and had gone above and beyond what was expected.
And now he’d fallen in love with a woman who’d considered him a suspect all along.
The concept of a heart actually breaking had always seemed a little ridiculous. Relationships came and went, but there’d never been any real pain involved. Now he knew what it meant, because his heart felt as if someone had ripped it in two.
Feeling adrift, still angry, he went home to shower and change into his uniform, then headed back to his office. Reports—he could always bury himself in those endless reports that had to be filed after every call.
He had quite a stack from yesterday, because he’d been out so late waiting for the BCA crime scene team to arrive and collect fingerprints and other evidence from the black sedan he’d impounded in the lot behind his office. Had the driver been heading to the Sanderson plant?
The clean, professional murder of the woman who’d stopped to help him suggested he could be tied to what was going on. And minutes ago, Nathan had learned that was true.
Everything started to fall into place as he stared at the snow flurries outside his window.
Vince Lund and his wife had worked at the plant—maybe they’d discovered incriminating evidence. Maybe they’d even been involved. The BCA and county crime-scene unit reports indicated that the deaths had been a murder-suicide, but had there been something more?
