Page 36 of Montana Justice

Lachlan

The watch felt heavier on 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 optimal transmission 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.

Good.

Let him listen. Let him think he had us figured out.

The drive home took forever, each mile feeling like ten. I’d maintained the charade all day—meetings about the fake Billings operation, calls to state police “coordinating” resources, even a staged argument with the DEA liaison about jurisdiction. All performed for an audience of one.

The house felt different when I walked in. Tenser. Piper sat at the kitchen table with papers spread in front of her, Caleb in his bouncer beside her. She looked up when I entered, and the mix of hope and fear in her eyes felt like a punch to the gut.

“Hey,” I said, setting my keys on the counter with deliberate casualness. I pointed to my watch.

“Hey.” Her voice stayed steady, but I caught the tremor in her hands as she shuffled papers. “Dinner’s in the oven. Should be ready in twenty minutes.”

Normal. We were playing normal while my watch transmitted every word. While Ray Matthews listened to his daughter pretend everything was fine.

“Sounds good. I’m going to change real quick.”

In the bedroom, I pulled off my uniform shirt, movements deliberately normal. No rushing. No tension. Just a tired sheriff coming home after a long day.

When I came back downstairs, Piper had moved to the stove, stirring something that smelled like the chicken she’d made our first week together. Back when I’d thought we were building something real.

Maybe we had been. Maybe we still were. Just with more complications than either of us had imagined.

“Find anything interesting in those papers?” I asked, nodding toward the mess on the table.

She turned, wooden spoon in hand. “Actually, yes.” Her voice carried just the right amount of forced casual interest. We’d rehearsed this part. “I was organizing your home office—hope that’s okay—and found some logistics reports in that bottom drawer.”

“Logistics reports?” I moved closer, playing my part. “Those should be at the station.”

“That’s what I thought. But they were mixed in with those old training manuals.

” She bit her lip, a gesture that looked nervous but I knew was calculated.

We’d planned every beat of this conversation.

“I didn’t read them thoroughly, just noticed they had delivery schedules for evidence transport.

Thought you should know in case they’re important. ”

“Show me.”

She led me to the table, pointing out documents Travis had crafted with surgical precision. Real forms, real protocols, but with crucial alterations. Schedules that showed evidence transport moving through specific routes at specific times. Routes that left other areas unmonitored.

“These are from last month,” I said, frowning at the papers.

“Must have grabbed them by mistake when I was bringing work home.” I shuffled through them, making sure the watch caught every angle.

“Good thing you found them. These show our evidence transport schedule for the next quarter. Can’t have these floating around. ”

“The routes look pretty set,” Piper observed, finger tracing paths on the map. “Every Tuesday and Thursday, same times.”

“Budget cuts,” I muttered. “Can’t vary routes when we can barely afford gas. Though, with half the department in Billings tomorrow night, even these routes will be skeleton crews.”

There. The final piece. Ray would hear about the Billings operation, the evidence transport schedules, the skeleton crews. A perfect storm of opportunity for someone looking to move illegal goods through our territory.

“Would you mind taking Caleb out for a little walk while I’m finishing dinner? I’ve been cooped up inside today, and I like for him to get a little fresh air.”

“Take my buddy for a walk?” I grinned down at Caleb in the bouncing chair. “Of course.”

I talked out loud for a couple minutes like I was getting everything ready for the walk, then switched the button Travis had added on the watch so it wouldn’t transmit. I nodded to her. Nothing was going out to Ray to the watch now.

She grabbed the burner phone, and I moved to lean against the counter where I could see her face. We’d decided I should be present but not hovering—let Ray think Piper had some privacy while still allowing me to hear both sides.

The phone rang three times before Ray’s voice filled our kitchen through the speaker.

“About time you called.” No greeting. No warmth. Just immediate irritation.

“Sorry. It’s been busy here.” Piper’s free hand gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white. “I don’t have much time. Lachlan is out for a walk with Caleb. Is the watch working okay?”

“Yes.” I could hear the smile in his voice. The satisfaction. “Very productive. We’ve got a lot of information.”

“Good.” Her voice stayed steady, but her other hand trembled. “It looks like there’s some sort of big movement out toward Billings.”

Ray chuckled, the sound making my skin crawl. “Well, that’s what happens when the feds stick their noses in. Local cops dance to their tune, leave their own territory unprotected.”

“Speaking of which,” Piper said, glancing at the papers spread across our table. “I found something today you might want to know about.”

“Oh?”

She described the logistics reports, voice carefully neutral. I watched her face as she fed information to the man holding our daughter hostage, saw the pain she was hiding, the desperate hope that this performance would bring Sadie home.

“Evidence transport schedules,” Ray mused. “Interesting. And it sounded like tomorrow night half the department will be gone?”

“That’s what Lachlan said. Six deputies plus him, all outside of Billings.”

“Leaving just a skeleton crew for the whole county.” His satisfaction was palpable even through the phone. “You did good, sweetheart. Real good.”

“Dad?” Piper’s voice cracked slightly. “Can I…can I see her? It’s been days since the last photo.”

Silence stretched, broken only by our breathing and the buzz of the connection.

“Please,” she whispered. “Just for a few seconds. I just need to know she’s okay.”

“She’s fine. Growing like a weed. Starting to babble more.”

“She is?” Tears rolled down Piper’s cheeks.

“Baby nonsense. Though, she’s got opinions, I’ll give her that. Yells when she doesn’t get her bottle fast enough.”

Piper laughed through her tears, the sound breaking my heart.

“Listen, I’ve got business to handle. Big shipment moving tomorrow night while your sheriff’s playing soldier in Billings.”

My pulse quickened. This was what we’d been waiting for.

“Shipment?” Piper kept her voice carefully neutral.

“Nothing you need to worry about. Just some inventory redistribution. That warehouse on Elm, east side of town. The old Brackenridge building. Perfect location now that the cops will be busy elsewhere.”

The Brackenridge warehouse. I knew it—abandoned for three years, isolated, multiple exit routes. Perfect for moving illegal goods. And now we knew when and where.

“Be careful,” Piper said softly. “I can’t afford to have you get caught.”

“Glad you’re finally starting to see how it really is. You keep doing your part, maybe I’ll bring Sadie by for a visit soon. Let you see her in person.”

Piper’s whole body went rigid. “Really?”

“Maybe. Depends on how tomorrow night goes. Keep your phone on.”

The line went dead. Piper stared at the phone in her hand, setting it down with shaking fingers. She moved to the sink, gripping the edge hard enough to turn her knuckles white.

“We know where he’ll be,” I said quietly. “We know when.”

She nodded but didn’t turn around. Couldn’t face me yet. The performance had cost her.

My phone buzzed. Travis.

“It’s Travis,” I told her, answering immediately. “Tell me you got something.”

“I got something.” His voice carried rare excitement. “That call gave me the final triangulation I needed. Cross-referencing with signal patterns from the past week, I’ve narrowed Ray’s location to a three-block radius in Whitehall.”

“What sort of area is it?”

“Neighborhood. Smaller, older houses, lower rent, but not very close together. Sort of place where people mind their own business. Which I’m sure would be just what Ray was looking for.”

“That’s where she is,” Piper said, still facing the sink. “That’s where he’s keeping Sadie.”

“Most likely,” Travis agreed. “By tomorrow night, I’ll have an exact house.”

“Good.” This was all coming together. “We locate Sadie, extract her while Ray’s at the warehouse, then hit the warehouse before anyone can warn him. Clean sweep.”

It sounded simple when I said it like that. But nothing about this was simple. Too many variables, too many things that could go wrong.

“I’ll coordinate with Hunter,” I said. “Get the teams ready for tomorrow night. We’ll have to divide and conquer.”

“Lachlan.” Travis’s voice carried unusual emotion. “We only get one shot at this. If Ray suspects anything?—”

“He won’t,” I said firmly. “We’re going to get my daughter back. And then we’re going to put that bastard away forever.”

After Travis hung up, I watched Piper mechanically remove dinner from the oven. Her movements were precise, controlled, but I could see the tremor in her hands.

“I’m scared,” she said without looking at me.

“Me too.”

She nodded, portioning out the meal with careful precision. We sat across from each other at the table, Caleb between us in his bouncer, and ate in silence. The plan was in motion. Tomorrow night, everything would change. Either we’d have both our children safe, or…

I couldn’t think about the alternative.