Page 48 of Montana Justice

“What if we went shopping today? Got some things for Caleb’s room—a real crib instead of that portable one and amatching 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 reluctanceto 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.

Chapter 16

Lachlan

The surveillance photosBeckett had texted me looked bad enough on my phone screen. In person, standing at the edge of Pawsitive Connections’ property, the evidence of someone casing the place made my jaw clench hard enough to hurt.

“Find anything?” I asked as Beckett emerged from a cluster of pines, his expression grim.

“Oh, I found something all right.” He gestured for me to follow. “Multiple somethings.”

We picked our way through the underbrush, fallen leaves crunching under our boots. About thirty yards in, Beckett stopped and pointed to the ground. The earth was disturbed in a rough rectangle, grass flattened and torn where something heavy had been placed.

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