Page 81
Story: Montana Justice
Because that’s what this would be. Even if we got her back—when we got her back—I’d lose her again. Lose both of them. But this time, at least they’d be together. This time, they’d be safe.
This time, they’d have their father to protect them in all the ways I’d failed.
Chapter 28
Lachlan
The watch felt heavieron my wrist than it had before. Not physically—Travis had done something to the internals that actually made it lighter—but the weight of deception pressed down with every tick of the second hand.
I sat at my desk, Deputy Martinez across from me going through routine paperwork while I carefully planted seeds for Ray Matthews to harvest. Martinez was in on this, knew to ask just enough questions to make it feel as realistic as possible.
“This Billings situation is going to be a nightmare,” I said, letting exhaustion color my voice. “DEA wants us to provide six deputies for their operation tomorrow night. Six. That’s half my department.”
Martinez looked up from his reports. “Six? Sheriff, that’ll leave us stretched pretty thin here.”
“I know.” I shuffled papers, making sure the watch faced the right direction—Travis had been specific about optimaltransmission angles. “But after last night’s clusterfuck, we need to show federal support. Make nice with the big boys.”
“What about regular patrols?”
“We’ll have to cut them back. Focus on the town center, leave the outskirts to state police if they can spare anyone.” The lie tasted bitter, but I sold it with a frustrated sigh. “Which they probably can’t since they’re also supporting this Billings thing. Somebody’s boss wants some answers.”
Martinez shook his head. “Understandable.”
“I fucked up everything last night, but hopefully this gets me out of hot water.” I let my voice drop like I was sharing classified information. Which I was, in a way. Just not real classified information. “Evidently, this intel is solid. And honestly, it makes more sense that these traffickers would be moving closer to Billings. Want some of that big-city action.”
That was the opposite of true with Ray and his crew. He was actually smart enough to stay out of the cities. Hopefully we were feeding his ego.
“Yeah, good point.”
“And evidently, our ‘local knowledge’ is invaluable to the feds.” I made air quotes, playing the part of frustrated small-town sheriff being pushed around by federal agencies. Not hard, considering how often it actually happened. “Meeting’s at four to coordinate. I’ll probably be there until late.”
Travis had crafted this narrative carefully. Plausible enough to be believed, specific enough to be actionable. Ray would hear about a major operation pulling resources east toward Billings, leaving Garnet Bend’s edges vulnerable. Like dangling meat in front of a hungry wolf.
Martinez gathered his papers. “Well, if you need me to pull a double shift?—”
“No.” I gave him a thumbs-up. “Save your energy. If this goes sideways like last night, we’ll all be pulling doubles for a week, dealing with the fallout.”
“Okay. I’ll catch you later.”
After he left, I walked to the break room, continuing the performance. Jenny sat at the small table, eating a lunch salad while scrolling through her phone. She was also in on this.
“Any word from the mayor about overtime budgets?” I asked, pouring coffee that had probably been sitting since morning. The bitterness matched my mood.
“He’s not happy about the Billings operation,” Jenny said without looking up. “Wants to know why federal agencies can’t use their own people.”
“Because they need bodies, and we’re convenient.” I took a sip, grimaced at the burned taste. “Tell him I’ll have a full report after tomorrow night. Assuming I’m not in Billings until dawn, dealing with their mess.”
Jenny finally looked up, concern creasing her features. “You look exhausted, Lachlan. When’s the last time you got a full night’s sleep?”
She was going off script. I knew she was actually concerned.
I hadn’t slept since I’d learned I had a daughter being held hostage. But I just shrugged. “Comes with the territory. Just keep the coffee coming, and I’ll survive.”
I headed back to my office, each conversation carefully crafted to paint a specific picture. Big operation. Resources stretched thin. Local law enforcement distracted and overwhelmed. By the time I locked my door and slumped in my chair, I felt like I’d run a marathon.
My personal phone buzzed with a text from Travis.
Signal strong. He’s listening.
Table of Contents
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