Page 82 of Montana Justice

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.”

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