“Don’t give me any of that police BS. It’s the company line and we all know it,” he declared, motioning toward his older brother, Zed, who stood near the window, one burly shoulder propped against a support post. Zed didn’t say much but was working a toothpick in the corner of his mouth as he squinted through the glass to the storm outside. The guy reading the old magazine looked up sharply over the tops of his readers.
“Who the hell took a potshot at my brother? Give me a name,” Cade demanded.
“I don’t know. But I intend to find out. Got any ideas?”
“Isn’t that your job? You’re the cop!”
“As I said, we’re working on it.”
He shook his head, his jaw taut. “Do your job. Find the son of a bitch.”
“Give her a break,” Zed suggested, then, leveling his deep-set eyes on Pescoli, added, “Cade’s not a big fan of law enforcement.”
“I got that,” Pescoli said, then to Cade, “Trust me, everyone in the sheriff’s office is making this attack priority one. We all are pretty attached to the sheriff.”
Cade looked about to say something else but somehow managed to keep it in.
“Anything we can do?” Zed offered.
“We could start with his enemies,” Pescoli suggested.
“Don’t you have that covered?” Cade demanded. “Dan’s the goddamn sheriff, and before that he worked as a detective and road deputy and he ran in more scumbags than you can count.”
Pescoli held up a hand. “It’s the family stuff I’m talking about. You know, friends who might not be what they seemed. Anyone Dan crossed on a personal level.”
Cade’s gaze shifted to a spot over her shoulder and his lips tightened a fraction. He said something under his breath that sounded like “speak of the devil,” and Pescoli turned to see what had caught his attention. She watched as Hattie Grayson hurried inside. She was breathless and her hair, usually so perfectly in place, was now tangled and mussed, brown strands wet from the snow. “How—how is he doing?” she asked, her question directed at Pescoli.
Pescoli threw a glance at Cade.
“Not great,” Cade said, lips barely moving as he slid another accusing glare Pescoli’s way. “Shot in the chest and head.”
“But he’s going to pull through.” She looked from one brother to the next for confirmation.
“Nothing’s for certain,” Pescoli said, though she hated how grim she sounded. “We’re waiting for the doctor.”
“Oh, God.” Hattie was pale, her cheeks, which had been ruddy from the cold, blanching. Slowly, she drew in a deep breath. “I just can’t believe it. Who would . . . ?” Swallowing hard, she blinked back tears and shook her head, as if she were trying to dislodge a bad, lingering dream.
“How about your sister?” Cade suggested in a dangerous voice.
“What?”
“Hey!” Big Zed pushed up from the pillar on which he’d been leaning and shook his head. “Not the place,” he warned his brother, but Cade was advancing on Hattie. With one hand, he swiped the air in Zed’s direction, silently telling the bigger man to back off as he came within an arm’s length of his ex-sister-in-law. “Cara played Dan like a damned puppet.”
“But she’s married to—”
“Nolan Banks, yeah, I know. Has been for years. Doesn’t mean she still didn’t dick around with Dan. Even when he started dating Akina, Cara still messed with him.”
“He married Akina,” Hattie reminded.
Cade glared at her and Pescoli sensed something pass between them. “And how long did that last?” Cade asked. “Ten months? A year?”
Hattie just shook her head.
“Not very damned long,” Cade said, as if Grayson’s failed second marriage were somehow Hattie’s fault.
“It wasn’t because of Cara,” Hattie said, suddenly bristling. She was nose to nose with Cade and refused to back down, but it was clear, being close to him was uncomfortable for her. “If I remember correctly, Akina ran off with her high-school boyfriend.”
“Because Cara kept showing up and Dan was too nice, or too emotionally attached to Cara, to tell Cara to ‘get lost’!”