With a grin, Tulley headed for his Durango and loaded Smoke’m into the back. Happy to have another assignment so soon after they made the front page during the Corban Foley search, he said, “Okay, boy. Let’s go kick some felon butt.”
*
“You’re ten minutes late,” Jude said when her subordinate finally rolled up. “And we don’t have much time. The snow’s melted and someone’s going to find our evidence. Probably Griffin Mahanes.”
Tulley bailed out of his vehicle, looking like he was in a daydream. It had gone to his head to have a television producer come up to him after the brawl with Wade Miller in the cemetery. The guy told Tulley how pretty he looked on camera, and asked him if he wanted to audition for an exciting new series.
Jude said, “I hope you’re not planning to call that producer. He’s just trying to get into your pants.” It was time Tulley learned how the world worked.
He slid his hand over his coal black cowlick and stared at her blankly. “What producer?”
“Forget it.” Jude stared past the police tape to Tonya Perkins’s house, aware that she was aggravated and taking it out on him. She softened her tone. “You’re looking for two things. A key and a bottle of tequila. Mr. Thompson believes he may have discarded both of these items somewhere in the immediate vicinity.”
She handed him a piece of Gums Thompson’s shirt, which he’d helpfully agreed she could cut off. Tulley promptly sniffed it.
“You might want to try that out on him,” Jude suggested dryly, motioning toward Smoke’m. As usual, the hound looked like he’d been rudely awakened from the sleeping state he preferred.
Snickering, Tulley tightened the harness and let Smoke’m take the scent. “Chastity and Adeline still visiting with you?” he asked.
“They’re leaving tomorrow,” Jude said without inflection.
“That’s a shame.” He looked thoughtful. “Chastity’s real nice.”
“Yes.”
“If she was staying longer, I was going to ask her out on a date. We’ve got some things in common.”
Jude kept a straight face. Tulley was always talking about dating some woman or another, and then did nothing about it. Bobby Lee, who had all but given up on the idea of seducing the deputy himself, called him a disgrace to handsome men.
“Things in common,” she repeated. “I’m afraid to ask.”
Tulley looked a little huffy. “She loves dogs.”
“That’s it?”
With a noisy sigh, Tulley gave Smoke’m another hit of eau de Gums Thompson and said, “You expect a lot from people, ma’am.”
She clapped him on the shoulder. “Tulley?” She did her best to reproduce Arnold Schwarzenegger’s accent, “Talk to the hand.”
Chapter Eighteen
“Detective Devine, what a surprise.” Debbie Basher opened her door wide and invited warmly, “Please come in.”
Jude smiled. “I was on my way back to work and I thought I’d drop by and say hello, since we’re almost neighbors.”
“Well, that’s nice of you.” Debbie clasped her hands together at her chest like a happy child. “Congratulations on the arrest. We thought he was the one, at least Lone did. Right from the start.” Observing Jude’s slight incomprehension, she said, “Sorry, that’s Sandy’s nickname. Lonewolf. Lone, for short.”
Lonewolf. Jude could almost hear Arbiter’s mind working. The nickname was a favorite of extremists all over the country.
Debbie gestured toward the sofa. “Have a seat. Can I get you something? Coffee?”
“Just what I was hoping you’d say.” Jude gave her a look of warm appreciation. “Sandy not here today?”
“No, she had some work to do. The blizzard brought a tree down on her property.”
“I thought she lived here.” Jude made as if she were surprised. “Easy mistake. You two seem so much at home with one another.”
Debbie blushed. “So, you know…I mean, you’re…”
“Uh-huh,” Jude admitted. “But in my line of work, in this part of the country, I don’t advertise it.”
“Me, either.” Debbie moved into the kitchen and started making their coffee. “I’d lose my job, for sure. My boss is a nice lady, but you know how it goes—gay is an abomination.”
“Yeah, there’s plenty of that attitude round here. Good folk, but knee-deep in fear and ignorance.”
“It’s funny, at the search, people were so nice to us.” Debbie sounded wistful. “I started thinking maybe I’m being too careful. But then I realized—it was because everyone thought Lone was a man.”
Jude could see how that might happen. Lone would get called “sir” wearing a dress. She said, “Well, I’m sorry she’s not here right now. I was hoping to talk with her about something we were discussing the other day.”
Debbie brightened. “I have an idea. Why don’t you come have dinner with us one night? I’ll cook up a storm, and you and Lone can talk about whatever butches talk about when you’re by yourselves with an unlimited amount of beer.”
Jude laughed with genuine pleasure. It made a nice change not to have to be guarded about her sexuality. She wished she could get to know a few more lesbians around the area, but showing up at the local chapter of GLAD would attract more attention than she needed, and in this close-knit community, gossip traveled like wildfire. She wasn’t willing to jeopardize her FBI assignment by being outed.
“Dinner sounds like a great idea,” she said. “Want to pick a night now?”
“Sure.” Debbie poured their coffee. “I’ll call Lone and see when she’s free.”
Jude got to her feet and offered, “I’ll take those.” She made a point of looking Debbie up and down, just enough to communicate a sensual awareness of her.
Debbie got flustered and dropped her cell phone. Jude picked it up and stood just close enough so that Debbie would be aware of her height and strength, but not so close she would come across as disrespectful. Reaching past her, she picked up the coffee mugs.
Debbie gave a nervous laugh like a hiccup and focused on her phone once more, but instead of retreating politely while she dialed Lonewolf, Jude took a sip of coffee like she couldn’t wait. Then she put one of the mugs back on the counter and distractedly patted her pockets as if her pager was going off.
With an apologetic smile, she produced her cell phone and mouthed in an undertone, “Excuse me a moment. I need to pick up a couple of messages.”
As she moved away, she entered the number she had just observed Debbie dial and hit “save.” Then she went through the motions of clearing her messages while Debbie spoke to her paranoid partner.
Sure enough, Debbie’s tone started out animated, then she sounded a little startled and said, “She’s right here, having coffee.”
Jude put her cell phone away and said, “Want me to talk to her?”
Debbie hesitated, but she was the kind of woman who respected authority figures so she caved right away, blurting chirpily, “She wants to say hello, honey.” She quickly passed the phone to Jude.
“Sandy. Hey,” Jude said. “How are you doing?”
“Good.” Sandy wasn’t giving much away. “I saw you arrested the boyfriend.”
“If you could call it that.”
Sandy thawed slightly. “Don’t you want to smack guys like him in the mouth?”
“In the worst way. I guess you’ve seen your share of them, too.”
“It’s one thing when they don’t speak the language and get themselves confused. But your baby butcher was working it.”
“Wall-to-wall TV reporters,” Jude remarked. “I’ll tell you all the details next week. Your lady is mighty persuasive, by the way.”
Sandy was trapped and she knew it. “Yes. She said something about dinner.” She couldn’t have sounded less enthusiastic.
“I don’t get home cooking very often,” Jude continued, acting oblivious. “So it’ll be a real pleasure to share a meal with you folks. Thanks for the invitation.”
Try getting out of that one.
She waited for Sandy to find an excuse not to break bread with her, but after a beat, their subject said, “How’s next Friday?”
“I’ll be here.”
They said perfunctory good-byes, and Jude returned the phone to Debbie. “We’re on for next Friday.”
“That’s great.” Debbie beamed.
She was one of those women who glowed from inside, Jude thought. She wasn’t good-looking in an obvious way, but she had the same appeal as a baby animal, all sweetness and vulnerability. She would never be able to hide her fear or guilt if she was involved in something illegal or if she knew her lover was. In either scenario, she would not have invited a cop to dinner.
Jude felt angry with Sandy, then. What was she thinking placing this woman at risk? Foraging in the recesses of her mind, she tried to come up with alternative explanations for the C-4 purchase. It could be entirely innocent. The woman had property. Maybe she was planning to blast an unwanted building or part of a hillside. Maybe she was simply a survivalist with a thing for weaponry.
Whatever she was up to, Jude was determined to be certain of her facts before she made a move. She wasn’t going to jump to conclusions just because Sandy Lane was an intense individual with the kind of profile that could fit a domestic terrorist—ex-military, a loner, paranoid, antisocial. She had more pressing priorities, like finding out if the ASS was ninety percent hot air and wishful thinking, or if they posed a serious threat.
Now that the snows were melting and March was moving toward April, it would be viable to access the remote location their operations had been traced to. Jude anticipated a rundown shack complete with a stockpile of anti-Semitic literature, Nazi memorabilia, and unsophisticated half-built bombs.
Meanwhile, she would take her time getting to know Sandy and Debbie. She would build trust and gain access to the lives of these two women so that she could observe patterns. That way she could detect the tell-tale signs that signaled a plan underway. Now that she had a cell phone number for Sandy, she would be able to track her location and conduct some basic surveillance.
Sandy didn’t strike her as a woman who rushed into anything, so Jude felt time was on her side. This mattered, because if the couple was involved in something stupid, she wanted the chance to change their minds. Maybe she could steer Sandy in a different direction before she could destroy what they had with each other.
*
Quietly, Chastity closed the door to the guest room. “She’s asleep.”
Jude glanced at the suitcases next to the garage door, a gluey sensation in her stomach. Tomorrow she would be by herself again, and she was kidding herself if she thought it was going to feel good to watch Chastity and Adeline drive away. Yet part of her was relieved.
She had so much to think about in preparing for Miller’s trial, she would be lousy company. Even Yiska would probably abandon her bed in disgust.
“It feels strange to be leaving,” Chastity said as she moved across the living room toward Jude.
“Come back any time you want,” Jude invited. “Next week is open.”
Smiling, Chastity reached up and pulled the bands from her hair, allowing her copper curls to tumble down around her face. “Has it really been okay?”
“It’s been better than okay.” Jude allowed herself an eyeful of Chastity’s breasts. The thought that she would soon get to caress them made her breathless. In fact, the thought of touching Chastity anywhere made her feel like a high school kid fantasizing about the class hottie she would never have.
“So, it’s just us, now.” Chastity advanced on Jude. Her dark eyes gleamed and her expression was playful. “Feeling the pressure?”
Jude hooted with laughter, then forced a solemn tone. “Well, I’m aware there’s a lot riding on my performance. If it all goes south you could be scarred for life, and I’ll spend yet another horny night feeling sorry for myself. No pressure.”
“I’ve been worrying that I set my sights too low,” Chastity confided. “Second base. It’s not very adventurous, is it?”
Jude couldn’t resist. “Well, that depends on who you’re playing with.”
Chastity’s small gasp made her mouth part deliciously. “Come here and say that.”
Jude grinned. Chastity was right in front of her, so close that her jeans were brushing against Jude’s legs. All Jude had to do was reach out and she could unbutton her neat dove gray shirt. While she was contemplating that possibility, Chastity pushed her firmly into the sofa cushions, slung one leg over Jude’s, and lowered herself to sit astride her.
“I can see that you’ve given this some thought,” Jude said, impressed by the seductive move.
“Only all day.” Chastity brushed her fingertips slowly past Jude’s lips. “I did some reading.”
“Really?”
“You have some very informative books.”
“You checked out my bedroom bookshelves?”
Jude tried not to be horrified. Somehow, the thought of Chastity flicking through lesbian erotica was far more disturbing than it should have been. She wondered why. Chastity was not a child. If she was alarmed by something she read, she could close the book.
“You sound shocked.”
“No. Just surprised.” Jude was aware of an increasing ache in her groin and the tantalizing pressure of Chastity’s weight. Huskily, she inquired, “Is this your norm? You don’t do things by halves?” A compelling thought, on many levels.