Page 94 of Desperate Justice

When he and Sam exchanged puzzled looks, she bristled. “I’m a traveling trauma nurse. When you’ve seen as much crap as I have, you learn to pack drugs that can treat overdoses. Especially going to a large event like this, chances are it might be needed.”

Rafe’s gaze narrowed, but he nodded.

They took the masks, but put them into their pockets. Allison did the same. Maybe it wasn’t fentanyl in those bears. Maybe it was a one-time deal.

She hoped. Surely her sister couldn’t be involved in any of this, either.

“Stay behind us,” Rafe told her again, this time his voice deep and stern.

Right. As if I’d listen to you. If this jerk is holding my sister prisoner for some reason, I’m headed inside.

They headed for the entrance. The door opened to a dimly-lit interior. It was quiet inside. Too quiet.

Allison’s breath hitched. She had a bad feeling about this.

Silence greeted them as they advanced into the bar. Her nose wrinkled at the stench of sour beer and old food. And Di had eaten here?

Maybe she should check the hospitals again, see if Di was laid up with a virulent case of food poisoning.

Before she saw it, Allison knew. She’d dealt with enough death and blood to know exactly what they would find.

The bar’s interior was dark, but enough sunshine poked through the slanted window blinds. Sam went to a dirt-riddled light switch on the wall and flipped it on.

Blood splattered the cardboard box where Allison had spotted the tan teddy bears. Lying next to it was Andrew Raine, the bar’s proprietor. Blood pooled near his body, a round hole piercing his forehead. His eyes stared sightlessly at the worn ceiling tiles.

She licked her lips. “Guess we won’t need that Narcan in my pack.”

Automatically she crouched down to check for a pulse. Rafe grabbed her hand. “I’m wearing gloves. I’ll do it.”

When he straightened, he shook his head.

Sam was already speeding to the hallway. He returned with a frown. “Nothing. But the office is a mess as if someone went through it, looking for something, and the cash box is open, with nothing inside.”

Rafe peered into the box. “The bears are missing as well. The open cash box may be a decoy to convince the police that this was a robbery gone wrong.”

“We have to call the cops,” Allison insisted.

Sam and Rafe exchanged glances. “Yeah,” Rafe said, holstering his gun. “But not here. And we can’t risk getting involved, not right now. Let the local cops handle it.”

“I don’t understand. You can’t tell them you found the body?”

He gave her an even look. “Ally, there’s too much at stake here. Your sister is missing. We think some of the bears transported for the run contain drugs. Until we know we can trust the local police, we can’t risk getting involved.”

Outside, Sam made a call to 911, telling the dispatcher something was off about The Dive Bar and the police should check it out.

They left on the motorcycles. But instead of riding back to the cabin, Rafe and Sam pulled into the parking lot of a grocery store. They parked far from other vehicles.

Rafe palmed his cell phone. “Signal’s strong here. I need to make a few calls.”

He walked away. When he returned, the grim set of his jaw warned it hadn’t gone well. She didn’t ask.

“I have sandwiches and cold drinks at the cabin. Late lunch?” she asked them.

Sam nodded. Rafe seemed distracted.

Back at the cabin, Allison told the guys to sit while she rustled out three cold sodas and made ham sandwiches. They ate on the deck.

“I checked with a guy I know who knows the town well. Raine owed money. Could be a reason why someone killed him,” Rafe told them.