Page 21 of Deputy Brand Gets Her Man
“Why the hell would he want to do that?”
She shook her head, shrugged. “Closure?” She didn’t tell him she thought his brother was looking for something. Ethan was a little sensitive about anyone judging Jeremiah based on his criminal parentage, for obvious reasons. Ethan didn’t like folks judging his brother due to his time in prison, either.
Was she doing that? Was she being all suspicious of Jeremiah’s motives because of what she knew? That he was an ex-con, raised in a criminal organization and groomed to work within it.
The radio crackled again.
“I gotta go, Ethan. We should do something soon. I miss you.”
“Bunkhouse bonfire?” he asked.
“We have a guest in the bunkhouse,” she reminded him.
“Leave that to me. You’re working nights though. When do you have off?”
“Day after tomorrow.”
“Day after tomorrow. It’s on. You can bring uh…never mind, you’re off the hook. You can pitch in a twenty and call it good.”
“Look at you, all organizin’ a bonfire,” she said.
“Yeah, Drew taught me. Sort of.”
Another crackle. She said, “See you Saturday night,” and walked to her car, pulled open the door, keyed the mike. “Car three to dispatch. Repeat the last call.”
“It’s a break-in, Will. Out on the Bend Road. 2105. You’re the closest at hand.”
She started her engine, flipped on lights and siren, and peeled out of the gas station. “Any injuries?”
“None reported. Nobody home at the time.”
Willow tried to put Jeremiah out of her mind and shift into cop mode as she drove. She was still unsuccessful as she turned onto Big Bend Lane, where large, beautiful homes with landscaped lawns that used too much water sat like the crowned jewels of the county. 2105’s paved driveway curved upward toward an asymmetrical house that seemed entirely wood and glass. But one of the wall-sized window panes in front was smashed. It lay in a large pile of shards on the floor inside and in the raised flower bed outside. The raised bed was bordered by red landscaping bricks.
She stopped a few yards shy of the glass out of caution, then got out of her car and took a look around from the outside. While she stood there looking, she realized someone was looking back from the other side of the dark hole that used to be a window.
“Oh, thank goodness,” said a short, lean young woman, maybe a few years younger than Willow. Her dark hair was twisted up behind her head, and she wore round tortoiseshell glasses over big brown eyes. Her capri jeans had flowers embroidered at the bottoms of each short leg. “Do you see this mess? Who would do something like this?”
Willow shrugged, taking it in as she did. “No idea. You?”
“None,” she said. “Come on in, the door’s…” she nodded left.
The main entrance was a green door with stained sidelights at the top of four half-circle concrete steps. There were rearing horses on either side of its stoop.
The door opened and she was greeted by the small, pretty woman. Behind her, a man, 6’1”, fit, blond hair, blue eyes, beach boy vibe that seemed out of place so near the desert.
“I’m Deputy Brand,” Willow said.
“Richard Montrose,” he said, leaning past the woman. “My wife, Elena.”
“Deputy,” she said.
“Sorry we’re meeting under these circumstances.” Willow followed them inside, where they took her to the broken window right there in the foyer, which had three of them lining it floor-to-ceiling. A brick lay on the floor’s plush carpet, right in front of a fireplace. It matched the bricks in the flower bed in front. She pulled a large zipper bag from a pocket and picked up the brick with it.
“Can you tell me what happened?”
“Well, I was out,” Elena said. “Lunch with the girls at Two Lilies. Can I get you a drink? Ice water?”
“No, thank you. Mr. Montrose, same question?”
