at first. A raid too soon would have only shut down the operation here, not stopped the flow. We needed evidence. We needed facts. Still do. Seth began to gather intel and had thought he had enough to shut the ring down, but then he was killed.”
Her eyes widened even more. “You really do believe he was murdered?”
“I do. Whatever information he had cost him his life.” And now it put Seth’s sister and nephew in danger. They weren’t supposed to be here. Seth had said they lived in Washington State. And now, per Tyler’s boss’s mandate, Tyler and his team were to make sure the widow and her son were protected.
She shook her head. “No, you cost him his life. You pushed him to do something he wasn’t trained to do.”
The sharp tip of her barb hit him squarely in the gut. “A fact I will have to live with,” Tyler stated with more regret than she could possibly know. This wasn’t the first time an informant had lost his life. “But Seth got himself into this mess. Seth came to us. He knew the risks. Believe me—I wish I had done things differently.”
If he could go back, he’d have extracted Seth a week ago. But Tyler had wanted more information. He’d wanted to cut off the head of the ring, not just pull in a few low-level minions. So he’d pushed Seth to keep up the pretense of going along with the drug-smuggling scheme until he knew the identity of the mastermind behind the illegal operation.
Tyler had been doing his job. A job that wasn’t finished. “If I am going to bring his murderers to justice, I need to find the notebook he told me he had.”
“That’s why you broke into the house.”
“I didn’t break in. As I said, Seth gave me a key. He’d said if anything happened to him that I’d find what I needed here at the farm. I didn’t mean to scare you. I had thought you and your son lived in Washington and would have returned there after Seth’s burial. Otherwise I would have arranged to meet you away from the farm.”
A contemplative expression crossed her face. “Ah. That’s why Seth offered to pay for our plane tickets to Florida for the upcoming holiday—so we wouldn’t come here.” A sad light entered her eyes. “My late husband’s parents live in a nursing facility there. Seth had insisted we should spend Thanksgiving with the Randalls. I declined Seth’s offer.” She gave a little shrug. “The Randalls barely know us, and we wouldn’t be able to stay with them. I didn’t want to spend the holiday in a motel.”
Her words resonated with him. He spent most holidays in motels or on stakeouts. It was a lonely way to celebrate.
“And now we’ll be spending the holiday here alone, without Seth.”
Guilt burned at her words. He had nothing to say to soothe her hurt.
Visibly pulling herself together, she asked crisply, “What does this notebook look like?”
“I wish I knew. All Seth had told me was to get the notebook if anything happened to him.” Tyler planted his feet beneath him and slowly rose. The world tilted. He swayed. He braced his feet wide, forcing back the dim shadows creeping in at the edges of his mind.
Heather rushed forward to steady him. “Take it easy. You probably have a concussion. You should go to urgent care. You might need stitches.”
“I’m not going anywhere until I find what I came for.” But he would lean on her for the moment, to keep from embarrassing himself again by falling flat on his face a second time. “You know how to handle a frying pan.”
“If I’d had Ken’s service weapon handy, I’d have used that,” she retorted drily. “But it’s locked in a safety deposit box at the bank in town.”
He slanted her a glance. “What were you thinking to begin with? You shouldn’t have confronted an intruder. You could have been seriously wounded or killed.”
From the background search he’d done on Seth and his family, Tyler knew Heather’s husband had been killed in action and they had a young child, who he assumed was upstairs at this very minute unaware of the danger that could have befallen his mother.
She paled and squared her shoulders. “I had to protect my child. My husband taught me how to take care of myself. I know how to shoot a gun. I know enough self-defense to break a stranglehold. And, as you said, I know how to wield a frying pan.”
He couldn’t help the little burst of admiration for the gutsy lady.
Slowly she extracted herself from his side. She moved away when it became apparent he was going to stay upright.
“You’re still bleeding,” she said. “Come along and let me take care of your head.” She turned and walked away.
He followed Heather to a large mudroom just off the kitchen, where he washed his hands while Heather grabbed a first aid kit from the cabinet over the washing machine and set it on the counter beside the washbasin. Next she dragged a chair in from the dining room.
He looked at the sturdy lattice-back chair with the pale yellow seat cushion. “I don’t want to ruin any more of your cushions.”
She found three towels in a drawer and brought them over. After laying one across the chair, she pushed on his shoulder. “Sit. I can’t work with you standing.”
Even sitting, he was as tall as her petite frame. She stood in front of him. The scent of her skin, a mix of soap and vanilla, teased his senses. Her face was a study in concentration as she unwound the cloth she’d fastened around his head.
“This is going to hurt,” she warned as she dabbed him with a cotton ball soaked in antiseptic.
The biting pain made him wince. When she finished, he sighed with relief.
“I think I can use butterfly bandages to close up the wound.” She worked with quick efficiency. “Why come at night? Why not come in the daylight with a search warrant?”
“Because I didn’t want to alert the bad guys that we’re onto them. I was hoping to get in and out unnoticed.”
She made a delicate-sounding snort. “But if you’d found the notebook, would its contents be admissible as evidence?”
“Yes, it would. The person, or persons, involved in the drug ring have no reasonable expectation of privacy on your farm, even if they are staying in one of the cabins. You’re the only one who would be exempt from the rule because you’re the owner. But you’re not involved, so that point is moot.”
“How can you be sure I’m not?”
“Seth was adamant you weren’t. Plus, I did a background check on you. You’re clean. I have no reason to believe you’re tangled up in this mess.” Could he be mistaken? His gut tightened. “You aren’t, right?”
The corners of her mouth quirked, and she shook her head. “I’m not.”
The last bit of doubt drained away. “Good.”
“You don’t even know what you’re looking for,” she said.
“True. But I’m sure I’ll know it when I see it.”
She frowned, her brow creasing.
