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To Prim, he called, “It’s not public information yet, but he’s hoping to expand the rez PD.”
Her eyes widened. “Shep!”
“He’s hopeful the tribal council will be in favor of bringing me on board.”
She walked straight up to him and slid her arms around his middle. “And you said?”
“In so many words, I told him I’m interested.”
“Of course, you are.” She laid her head against his chest.
He touched his lips to her hair. “It’ll probably be less money than I’m making now.”
“Pretty sure you’re not in this for the money, Shep.”
“No.” His arms tightened around her. “It’s never been about the money.” But he was going to need a paycheck to raise a family someday.
“Not for you.” She tipped her face up to his. “For a lot of folks, that’s exactly what it is,” she sighed. “The things people will do for money!”
The things people will do for money.Her words jogged something loose that had been rattling around his brain for the past hour.
“Money,” he snarled, setting her aside. “That’s it.” There was one very quick way to verify his theory. He stomped back to his truck to pull out the latest set of scent samples he’d purchased online. He’d picked them up from the post officeearlier. Opening the box, he rummaged through the bottles until he found the one he was looking for.
Uncapping the lid, he held it out to Prim. “You first.”
She gurgled out a laugh. “No wonder my mother is so set against me dating policemen. Here we are, snorting heaven-only-knows-what together.”
He shook his head in bemusement at her. “Just sniff it and tell me what you think.”
She gave it a tentative sniff, frowned, and pulled the bottle closer for another whiff. “That’s what Levi’s garage smelled like underneath all the grease.”
“Exactly.”
Her eyes widened. “What is it?”
“Money!”
“Money?” Prim frowned in puzzlement at the bottle she was still holding. “That’s what this is?”
“Yep.”
“Okay. Wow! Guess I’ve never sat around with my nose pressed to a wad of money.”
“Most people don’t, and that’s a good thing because it’s filthy stuff.” He spelled it out for her. “According to the scientists who’ve studied it, the mighty U.S. greenback is a funny mixture of cotton, soap, ink, and greasy sweaty hands.”
“Gross!” She tipped the bottle up for another sniff. “That still doesn’t explain the washing machine smell. Or the chemicals hanging in the air.” She waved a hand beneath her nose at the memory.
“Maybe it does.” He raised his Stetson to fist a hand in his hair as the crazy details finished taking shape in his head. “I’ve been wracking my brain for any reason a group of big-city financial fraudsters would want to hobnob with a bunch of backwoods scoundrels like the Paddocks.” He clapped his hat back on. “So far away from Dallas that they’d need to hire abunch of race car drivers to mule whatever it is between here and there.”
“Nothing good, that’s for sure,” Prim agreed worriedly. “It sounds like you have a new theory.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, half turning away from her. “They’re laundering money, Prim. That’s the only thing that makes sense.” They’d deliberately selected a tiny Native American reservation in the middle of nowhere —outside the normal jurisdiction of all surrounding law enforcement departments.
He swung back in her direction. “They have the perfect fall guys in place, too, if the Feds ever come nosing around. A handful of poor Comanches that nobody expected to amount to anything in the first place.”
“I’m sorry, Shep.” For a moment, the only sounds around were the whistle of the wind through the evergreens and the occasional bark from Rook and Bishop who were chasing each other around the side yard.
“My people,” he snarled, yanking his cell phone from his pocket. Sparks of outrage ignited and grew into flames as he shot a text off to Adriel Montana.
