Page 46 of Montana Justice

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 thoughtmuch 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 ofgetting 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.”

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