Page 3 of Her Baby, Her Badge

Wilson donned a raincoat over his toned and heavily muscled body and made his way toward her. Or rather, toward the dead cop. He stopped right outside the crime-scene tape that the CSIs had already set up, and stared at the woman who’d once been his deputy. Wilson cursed, too, and it wasn’t under his breath. He stood there several more moments before he turned toward Grace.

And scowled.

Grace wasn’t sure if the facial expression was for her or Dutton. Maybe both. But Wilson didn’t even attempt to rein it in.

“Sleeping with the enemy,” Wilson growled. His gaze dropped to her stomach, and even though he couldn’t see her baby bump under her raincoat, he knew it was there. Grace suspected everyone in the county did. “Why haven’t you arrested him yet?” he demanded.

Byhim, Grace had no doubts whom he meant. “Dutton doesn’t have a criminal record.”

“Only because he hasn’t been caught.” Wilson stopped directly in front of them and propped his hands on his hips. The glare was still firmly in place. “That whole family should be locked up, and you should be fired for sleeping with him.”

Even though Dutton wasn’t touching her, Grace could practically feel every muscle in his body tense. Not because of the insult to him. But because of the insult to her.

Grace decided to try to nip this in the bud. “Sheriff Finney,” she said, purposely addressing him by his title and surname to remind him this was work and not some free-for-all at a bar, “since you’re probably in shock and grieving for your fallen deputy, I’ll give you some leeway on that.Some,” Grace emphasized.

“I won’t,” Dutton snarled, and there was a lethal edge to his voice. An apparently effective one.

Wilson stared at him and must have decided this was not a fight he needed to launch into tonight, because the county sheriff shook his head, cursed and then pinned his attention back on the murdered deputy. Grace gave Wilson a few more moments before she said anything.

“Tell me about her,” Grace began.

Judging from the long pause, Wilson wanted to hang on to his temper a bit longer, but he finally spoke. “Deputy Elaine Sneed. She’s been on the job for less than a year.”

Grace waited, expecting more, but more didn’t come. She sighed and took out her phone. Now that she had a name, she tapped into the database to retrieve what info she could.

“Sneed,” Dutton repeated. “Is she Frank Sneed’s daughter?”

“You know her?” Grace asked, and as the deputy’s bio loaded, she could confirm that Elaine was indeed the daughter of Frank and Marion Sneed from Carson, a town about twenty miles away.

“Frank recently bought some horses from me,” Dutton explained. “And he brought his daughter with him to pick them up.” He, too, had another look at the dead woman. “That looks like her.”

“It is,” Grace confirmed, since Elaine was the Sneeds’ only child. “She was twenty-four and had been a county deputy for eighteen months.” So slightly longer than Wilson had guessed. Strange that he wouldn’t have known that about one of his people, but then, maybe he wasn’t a hands-on boss.

“She was young. I didn’t give her any of the hard cases,” Wilson volunteered, but Grace had the feeling he just wanted to contribute something that wouldn’t make him seem so clueless when it came to someone who’d worked for him for a year and a half.

“She’s engaged,” Dutton informed them. “Or maybe already married. Frank mentioned that.”

“She’s not married,” Grace said, referring to the bio. “Or if she is, she didn’t update it in her records.” She paused, looked at Wilson. “I need to be at the death notification of her next of kin, but I’m assuming you’ll want to be the one to deliver the actual news?”

“Why do you need to be there?” Wilson snapped. “She worked for me.”

“And she was killed, or at least her body was left in my jurisdiction,” Grace quickly pointed out. “This is my investigation, and you know the protocol. I need to talk to her next of kin.”

Sadly, that was because the killer was often someone close to the victim. Grace didn’t think that was the situation here, but she had to go by the book.

Wilson looked ready to argue with her, but the head CSI, Larry Crandall, called out before Wilson could launch into anything.

“Sheriff Granger,” Larry said. “There’s a note on the body.”

That got Grace’s attention, but she didn’t charge forward to take a look. She had to hold out her arm, though, to stop Wilson from doing just that.

Grace moved her flashlight over the body and saw the edge of a plastic bag that was tucked in the deputy’s shirt. The CSI eased it out, then held it up for Grace to see. Yes, it was a note alright. A handwritten one. And whoever had put it there had no doubt encased it in that bag to make sure it didn’t get soaked.

“What does it say?” Grace asked, since she wasn’t able to make out the words from where she was standing.

The CSI turned it toward him, and started to scan it, then muttered something she didn’t catch before he read it aloud.

“‘Two down. Sheriff Grace Granger, you’re on the list, too, and your time is coming. Or should I say ending? And for you, I’ll add a bonus. Two for the price of one. You and Dutton McClennan. Soon, you’ll both be dead.’”

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