Page 21 of Montana Justice

Lachlan

I stared at the ceiling in the early morning light, my body still thrumming with the memory of Piper beneath my hands and mouth. The taste of her lingered, sweet and intoxicating, making me hard all over again just thinking about how she’d come apart on my desk.

But it was what happened after that kept replaying in my mind. The way she’d scrambled for her clothes like the house was on fire. The panic in her eyes when she’d called what we’d done a mistake.

I rolled out of bed and headed for the shower, needing the hot water to clear my head, and probably cold water for my dick.

Under the spray, I replayed every second, looking for what had gone wrong.

But I kept coming back to the same conclusion—it wasn’t about what we’d done.

It was about something else, something she wasn’t telling me.

The guilt in her eyes had been unmistakable. But guilt about what? About wanting me?

Was she about to take off again?

She’d lived here for nearly two weeks, but she kept her suitcase in the corner of her room, still packed.

She’d never fully spread out, never claimed space the way people did when they felt at home.

She’d wash her single pair of backup jeans every few days rather than accumulate more laundry.

Even Caleb’s things stayed minimal and portable—one small bag of clothes, a handful of toys that could fit in the diaper bag.

It wasn’t just about being ready to run. It was as if she didn’t believe she deserved to take up space, to exist fully in any one place.

I dried off and dressed for work, trying to push the worry aside. Whatever Piper was hiding, whatever had her walking on eggshells, I’d figure it out. But pushing too hard would only make her retreat further behind those walls she’d built.

My phone rang as I was pouring coffee, Beckett’s name lighting up the screen.

“What happened?” I answered, already knowing from the early hour that this wasn’t a social call.

“We’ve got a problem.” His voice carried that edge that meant Warrior Security had picked up something concerning. “Lark called. Someone was spotted taking photos of Pawsitive Connections yesterday evening. Professional-looking camera, long-range lens.”

My hand tightened on the coffee mug. “Could be nothing. Maybe someone interested in the therapy programs.”

“That’s what I thought, but then Hunter and I started talking about the other stuff going on around town you told us about.”

“The Hendricks feed store break-in?” Nothing had been taken, but someone had been in their delivery logs.

“Yes, then that thing with Dr. Paulson.”

Someone had called asking strange questions about his veterinary supply shipments. The older man hadn’t thought much of it, but he’d mentioned it when I saw him in town a few days ago.

I set my mug down hard enough that coffee sloshed over the rim. “Someone’s scouting.”

“That’s what we think. Looking for regular delivery schedules, figuring out which businesses would make good covers.

” Beckett’s voice dropped lower. “Hunter’s contact in Billings confirmed there’s been increased chatter about a new pipeline opening up.

Weapons and drugs, using rural businesses as waypoints. Right through this area.”

The muscles in my shoulders went tight. “But why Pawsitive? It’s too visible, too many people coming and going.”

“Unless that’s exactly what they want. Hide in plain sight. Who’s going to question a horse trailer at a horse farm? Or veterinary supplies going in and out of a place with animals used for therapy? If anything, law enforcement is less likely to look too closely.”

I thought about Piper working there, about her and Caleb spending their days in what might become a target. My free hand curled into a fist. “Son of a bitch.”

“It would be the perfect cover.”

I ran a hand down my face. “Yeah. We’ve also got reports of increased activity near the old Mitchell barn off Route 89. Deputy Torres said he saw tire tracks leading to it last week, but when he checked, it was empty. Too clean, though. Like someone had swept it out.”

“Shit. The Mitchell place has been abandoned for years. Perfect for temporary storage. What about the fentanyl angle? Any connection to that teenager who overdosed?”

I grabbed a paper towel to clean up the spilled coffee, my mind racing through possibilities. “Still trying to trace where he got it. Kid’s not talking—scared of something. Whether it’s of getting into more trouble or of being accused of being a narc, I don’t know.”

Beckett’s chair creaked through the phone. “Listen, there’s more. Remember that checkpoint you ran on Highway 37 last week? The one that came up empty?”

My jaw tightened. “Not likely to forget that.”

“We found out somebody definitely leaked info about that. We can’t figure out the source, but it was too early in the process for it to be truckers. Somebody with inside info got the word out.”

The words hit like cold water. “You think we have a leak?”

“I think it’s worth considering. This is the third operation that’s come up empty after we thought we had solid intel.” He paused. “I’m not saying it’s someone in your department, but?—”

“But information is getting out somehow.” I scrubbed a hand over my face. “I’ll review who had access to the checkpoint information.”

“Okay.”

“Can you guys increase security at Pawsitive? You’re over there all the time anyway.”

“Already planned on it. If someone is nosing around, we’ll find them.”

“Keep me updated. And tell Lark to be careful.”

“Already did. She’s pissed, by the way. Something about not letting anyone threaten her horses.” He paused. “How’s Piper doing there? Lark mentioned she’s been a great help.”

“She’s…adjusting. But seems to like it there.”

We talked for a few more minutes about patrol schedules and coordination between the sheriff’s department and Warrior Security. By the time I hung up, my coffee had gone cold and my appetite had disappeared.

I grabbed my duty belt and headed for the door, then stopped short. Piper stood in the hallway with Caleb in her arms, and something about her expression made my chest tighten. She looked like she’d been caught doing something wrong, which made no sense since she lived here.

But what made me pause was her position—she stood at an angle where she could see into the kitchen but wouldn’t have been visible from where I’d been standing. The floorboard under her left foot was the one that creaked, which meant she’d been there a while, deliberately keeping her weight off it.

“Morning,” I said carefully, noting how she shifted Caleb higher on her hip like a shield.

“I was just…” Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, a nervous gesture I’d cataloged over the past couple weeks. “Sorry. I didn’t want to disturb you on the phone in case he started crying.”

“Are you okay?”

She nodded.

I studied her, the way her fingers tightened on Caleb’s clothing. She wasn’t okay.

“Piper, about last night?—”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Hey.” I kept my voice gentle, the same tone I used with spooked horses and scared victims. “You don’t need to feel weird about what happened. I’m not upset that you wanted to stop. That’s always your choice, and I’ll always respect it.”

She finally looked at me then, and the guilt in her eyes was so heavy it took my breath away. “I know. I just… I shouldn’t have let it go that far.”

“Why not?” I moved closer still, close enough to see the way her pupils dilated despite her obvious anxiety. “We’re both adults. We both wanted it. Unless…” My stomach dropped. “Unless you didn’t want it. Did I pressure you? Did I misread?—”

“No.” The word came out fierce, almost angry. “No, you didn’t pressure me. I wanted it. I wanted you. That’s the problem.”

“I don’t understand why that’s a problem.”

She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, that wall was back up. The one I’d been trying to chip away at since she’d been here. “We just can’t do this.”

Caleb chose that moment to start fussing, reaching for me with chubby hands. I took him automatically, settling him against my chest, where he immediately grabbed for my badge.

“No playing with Daddy’s shiny things,” I told him, redirecting his attention to my collar instead. When I looked back at Piper, she was watching us with an expression that looked like grief.

The morning sun slanted through the hallway window, highlighting the dark circles under her eyes and the tension in her shoulders. Whatever was eating at her, it was getting worse, not better.

“Listen,” I said, shifting Caleb to one arm. “I’ve been thinking about something.”

She went still, that hypervigilance kicking in. Waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“You’ve been here for weeks now, but you’re still living like you’re in a hotel. Your suitcase is still packed in the corner of your room. You’ve got three shirts that you wash over and over instead of getting more clothes. Caleb’s toys fit in one small bag.”

Her shoulders went rigid. “I don’t want to presume?—”

“You’re not presuming anything. This is your home now.

Yours and Caleb’s.” I reached out with my free hand, not quite touching her but letting her know the option was there.

“I want you to feel that. To believe it. You don’t have to commit to staying here permanently, but at least plan to stay until you’re more financially stable. ”

“Lachlan—”

“What if we went shopping today? Got some things for Caleb’s room—a real crib instead of that portable one and a matching changing table. Some stuff to make your room feel more like yours too. Pictures for the walls, a dresser so you can actually unpack that suitcase, whatever you need.”

The offer hung between us while she stared at me like I’d suggested something impossible. “You want to buy us furniture?”

“I want you to stop living with one foot out the door.” The honesty of it surprised us both.

“I want to walk past your room and see clothes in the closet instead of a packed bag. I want Caleb to have toys scattered around instead of everything neat and portable. I want this to feel like home for both of you.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “We’re fine with what we have.”

“I know you are. But you deserve more than fine. Both of you do.”

“That’s not…” She stopped, swallowed hard. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you’re the mother of my child. Because you’re living in my house but acting like you’re just passing through.

Because…” I paused, choosing my words carefully.

“Because I know you’re carrying something heavy, Piper.

I can see it in your eyes, in the way you jump at shadows.

I can hear it when you cry. I don’t know what it is, and I won’t push you to tell me.

But I want you to know you’re safe here.

That this is a real home, not just a temporary shelter. ”

She was quiet for so long I counted Caleb’s breaths against my chest. One. Two. Three. Four. Finally, she spoke.

“Okay,” she whispered. “But nothing too expensive.”

“Deal.” I handed Caleb back to her, letting my fingers brush hers in the transfer. She didn’t pull away, which felt like progress. “I’ll text you when I’m heading home.”

I left before she could change her mind, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more going on than simple reluctance to accept help. There was something happening beneath the surface, but I couldn’t see the full picture yet.

But I had bigger problems than that. It looked like we had a mole somewhere in the department. And no matter what, that sucked—these were men and women I trusted. Would give my life for.

The drive to work was a blur of trying to connect dots that refused to form a pattern. By the time I pulled into the station parking lot, I already had a headache forming.

Through the window, I could see Jenny at her desk, already fielding calls.

Normal day in a normal town, except nothing felt normal anymore.

Not with potential drug traffickers making their presence known.

Not with someone from inside our department providing them intel.

Not with whatever secrets were making Piper so sad.

My phone lit up with a text from Lark:

Piper just arrived. She seems upset about something. Everything okay?

Keep an eye on her for me.

Always do. She’s good people, Lach. Whatever’s going on, she’s trying.

I wanted to believe that. Wanted to believe that tonight we’d go shopping, that she’d finally unpack, that maybe she’d start to trust me with whatever was weighing her down.

“Morning, Sheriff,” Jenny called out as I walked in. “You look like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

“Just a lot on my mind.” I forced myself to focus on the stack of messages on her desk. “Anything urgent?”

“Mrs. Patterson called about her neighbor’s dog again. And Beckett called about an hour ago looking for you.”

“I’ve already talked to him.” I retreated to my office, pulling up the duty rosters from the Highway 37 checkpoint. If Beckett was right about a leak, I needed to find it before this went any further.

This was my town—and my duty to protect it.