Page 92 of Home Town Knight

“But how did Tucker get in at all? If the stuff you’re storing is valuable enough to warrant an armored vehicle, wouldn’t you have it in some kind of vault?”

“Of course I do. It’s behind reinforced steel. But that door is only so good as the last fool who had access to it. The delivery driver hadn’t latched it properly. He was some new guy. Which probably explains why he fucked up and let Tucker spot them in the first place.” Duke took a pocket knife from his tactical pants. Twirled it in his fingers absentmindedly. “We have rules. No contact, no faces. I always wait until the delivery is finished, then head down to the bunker myself to check that everything is locked up tight the way it should be. I was just leaving my cabin when the alarms started blaring. A warning that the door wasn’t secure. Then a second alarm went off. By the time I got there, I realized why. Somebody had been inside the bunker. Rifled through some of the boxes that had just been delivered. A few of the medallions were missing. The seal on the bag of cash was broken.”

He shook his head like he still couldn’t believe it hadhappened. He tossed the pocket knife in the air, catching it as it fell. Again. Repeating the motion as he continued.

“I checked the cameras, and there he was. Some dumbass in hunting gear sneaking through the unlatched door and grinning like a kid who’d gotten into a candy store after hours. He’d tripped a proximity alarm on his way in, which was silent. But the door siren was loud, and that spooked him. He grabbed what he could fit into his pockets. Got out of there. A perfect clusterfuck of events. After three years of me sitting on this place without one single breach.”

“You went after Tucker.”

“Damn right I did. The guy was an amateur. That much was obvious. I wasn’t far behind him, and it didn’t take much for me to catch up. I saw him meet with his buddy, who’d obviously been waiting for him. Tucker told his buddy he hadn’t found anything. I followed them on foot back to their car. Too risky to kill them there. I had no idea who else knew where they were. But I got the license plate, make and model. Wasn’t too hard to connect that vehicle to the Alpine Hotel.”

“I’m guessing Sykes helped you with that?”

“You guess right. I’d never met him in person before, but I was supposed to call him if anything came up I couldn’t solve myself. Sykes ran the license for me, got the guy’s name, and filled me in on where Tucker was staying. I kept watch, waited for Tucker to come out alone. I knew he couldn’t resist the lure of more money, more gold. Almost disappointing how predictably greedy people can be. I took out Tucker and got my employer’s property back. But I didn’t plan to use Sykes any further until I sawyou. Or I guess I should say, you saw me. Another stroke of really bad fucking luck.”

So that was why Sykes had responded first to the murder scene. Rossiter had been nearby as well, because the twoofficers usually worked together, though he would’ve had no idea that Sykes had a connection to the killer.

Rossiter had been the more loud and obnoxious of the two, but Sykes had gotten a dark look when I’d refused to give my name. No wonder. He’d probably been looking for some way to get to me.

And then Owen had appeared, protecting me even before the danger had become clear. Where was he now? Looking for me? Was Norris Linscomb all right after being shot?

Duke tossed the pocket knife. Caught it. We both followed the motion with our eyes. “I think you know the rest of what happened already.”

I’d kept my fear in check so far, but now it was rising up. An itch that was getting harder and harder to ignore. Talking was the only thing keeping me calm. I hadn’t lied when I’d told Duke that earlier. “Rossiter stole the coin from Tucker’s room. I mean, medallion. That’s what you call them. He and Ellis were going to come back here. So you got rid of Ellis. Or was it Sykes who killed him?”

“Sykes couldn’t have made that shot. But he’d been keeping tabs on the other trooper, realized what Rossiter and Ellis were up to.”

“Why did Sykes let Rossiter take the medallion at all? If he knew it was Stillwater’s?”

“Sykes didn’t know shit. He was a resource, not important enough for Stillwater to give him a medallion. He’d never seen one before. He reported to me that he’d seen a coin in Tucker’s hotel room, but Sykes had no idea of its significance. When Douglas started asking questions about missing evidence, I connected the dots. Realizedyouprobably knew what the medallion really was. I wanted to know how.”

I’d started shaking again. “Then you and Sykes decided to ambush Owen and his people on our way back to Hartley. To get to me.”

Duke caught the knife. Pinned me with those dead eyes. “Right. Now you’re going to answermyquestions. While we still have time.”

Time?What did he mean by that? I could take a wild guess, but the thought wasn’t reassuring.

“But there’s a lot I don’t understand,” I stammered. “I don’t know who you really are. How you ended up here.”

“That’s not relevant.”

“Of course it is. Who we are, how we end up making one choice instead of another. It’sallrelevant. Were you in the military?”

His mouth pursed, and I saw a brief hint of the longing that every single person possessed. The reason so many people agreed to talk to reporters like me. The longing to be known and understood by someone.

“I was a soldier, yeah. A long time ago. They taught me to shoot. Made me a killer. I gave everything, and then our government rewarded me by accusing me of shit I didn’t do. Court marshaled me.”

“Like my dad,” I blurted out. “He was a cop. Falsely accused of being dirty.”

He didn’t look surprised. “A little like that. After I learned your name, I read that article you wrote. But if your dad was alive now, do you think he’d be some hero? Or would he be like me? A realist. Stillwater found me when I got out of prison. Made me an offer. I knew they had to be into dark stuff, but why should that matter to me? Anyone who thinks he’s a hero gets screwed over in the end.”

“You’re not a bad person,” I insisted. Hoping I could somehow make him believe it too. “It's not like you enjoyed killing Tucker.”

Indifferent eyes looked back at me.

I tried a different tack. “Maybe Stillwater is paying you alot, but I’ll bet you have more dirt on them than I could begin to imagine. That’s valuable.”

“Not valuable enough. Why do you think Stillwater chose me to work here? I don’t get greedy. I know better than that. Why do you think Stillwater makes those medallions in the first place?”

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