“Can you?”
Before he could respond to what Gunner was sure had to be a deliberate taunt, the sheriff glanced his way. Then Wyatt began to march toward him.
“Wyatt Halliday,” Sydney murmured. “Divorced, age thirty-four. Did a brief tour in the army, got a BA in criminal justice from Texas A&M. Got shot in Dallas, almost died tracking a perp, and then the guy came out here. Guess he was looking for some peace and quiet.”
Peace and quiet weren’t on the day’s agenda.
Wyatt huffed as he approached. “You.” He jabbed a finger at Gunner. “We need to talk.”
Gunner shrugged. Then he inclined his head toward Sydney. “This is Special Agent Sydney Sloan.” That was her title at the EOD. He hadn’t exactly lied to the sheriff just now. He was just letting him believe Sydney was a special agent with the FBI.
Wyatt hesitated. His gaze darted to Sydney. Lingered just a little too long for Gunner’s comfort.
“You wanted to talk?” Gunner snapped, trying to draw Wyatt’s attention away from Sydney.
Wyatt jerked his gaze back to Gunner. “I want to know what’s going on. I got a friend at the bureau. I called him. He said there weren’t any missing persons’ cases that fit this attack profile, that he didn’t know of a suspected perp who—”
Gunner raised his hand. “I’m not in town to investigate kidnappings. That was a cover I needed to give until we could get my team better established in Whiskey Ridge.” Just like his cover with the FBI. But Sydney would have put safeguards in place for the FBI bit. If anyone investigated, if the sheriff got too curious, he’d find that there was a record for a Special Agent Gunner Ortez and a record for Special Agent Sydney Sloan.
Sydney was always good at creating the covers.
“Then just why are you in town?” Wyatt pushed. “And why is my station destroyed?”
How much should he reveal? How much did the sheriff already know? It was hard to get a good read on the man.
“It’s about Cale Lane, isn’t it?” Wyatt dropped his voice and edged closer. “Veronica was right. Something has happened to him.”
Not to him so much. With the sheriff’s question, Gunner knew how to play the case now. “We are in town following up on Cale’s disappearance.”
Wyatt grunted. “I knew Veronica wouldn’t give up. She called you in, didn’t she?”
“Yes,” Sydney
said. “She got our attention.”
Well, Gunner knew that the lady had certainly gotten Jasper’s attention.
Wyatt glanced over his shoulder at the charred remains of his station. “What Cale does, it’s dangerous. He knows the risks that he takes, but I don’t think Veronica ever really understood just how deadly his job could be.”
Gunner frowned as he got what Wyatt was saying and what he wasn’t saying. “He asked you to cover for him.” A hunch.
Wyatt gave a grim nod and cut his eyes back to Gunner. “Said he’d be gone longer this time. That the money—it was enough for him to get out of the business.”
The sheriff hadn’t cared that Cale was a hired gun?
“Don’t look that way,” Wyatt said, voice fierce. “He was working for Uncle Sam. Same as you. Same as me...back before the shooting.”
Wyatt had done mercenary work, too?
“Cale said he’d be gone longer, that the case was big. I thought he was just still working the job. I didn’t realize—” He broke off and shook his head. “Cale Lane is my best friend. Do you really think I’d turn my back on him if I thought he was in trouble?”
It didn’t matter what he thought. It only mattered what the evidence showed. All of their evidence was currently showing that Cale was the killer who’d taken out three EOD agents—and that he was quite possibly the man who’d shot the two suspects last night.
“I want you to tell me everything you know about Cale Lane,” Gunner said. “Every. Single. Thing.”
Because if they were going to catch Cale before the man killed again, then they had to get inside his mind.
To catch a killer, you had to think like one.