A Lawman's Justice. Delores Fossen
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through her dark brown hair. “Why are you here?” she snapped.
“Why are you here?” Seth snapped right back.
And they stood there, both glaring and waiting for the other to answer first. To remind her that he was the one in charge here, Seth tapped his badge clipped to his belt.
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re pulling the FBI card on me? Well, it won’t work. I’m not leaving here until I have some answers.”
Seth didn’t normally have it in for investigative reporters. On occasion a few actually had helped the FBI with active cases. But he had it in for this particular one. Shelby was a thorn in his thorn-riddled side.
“Exactly what kind of answers are you hoping to get here?” he asked. And yeah, it sounded like an interrogation question that he would aim at a hostile suspect.
“Obviously the same answers you’re hoping to get.”
Seth’s scowl got worse. They had another staring match before Shelby huffed.
“I got an anonymous call, all right?” she grumbled finally. “The person said there was evidence here connected to your stepmother’s trial, and I wanted to find out if that was true.”
Well, hell. Seth hadn’t expected that answer. But it was true that his stepmother, Jewell, was just three days away from standing trial. For murder.
That didn’t help his churning stomach, either.
Jewell had been charged with killing her alleged lover twenty-three years ago. It’d taken all these years for the arrest to happen, and one of the main reasons for Jewell’s arrest was standing right in front of him.
Shelby.
She’d written dozens of scathing articles about what she called a police cover-up, and the articles had caught the eye of the new prosecutor, who’d reopened the case. The evidence had been retested, new evidence found.
And the new evidence all had pointed to his mother being a killer.
Seth was 1000 percent sure Jewell was innocent, but so far he’d had zero luck proving it.
Until now, that was. Maybe this was the break he needed if there was indeed something in the building.
“What kind of evidence?” Seth demanded.
Shelby lifted her hands, palms up. “That’s what I’m here to find out. Now, why are you here?”
Seth debated whether he should tell her, but there was no logical reason why she shouldn’t know, though he could think of a few petty ones. He decided to put the pettiness aside. For now. “I got a call from a CI who said there was possibly some evidence inside. I thought it might be connected to the black market baby ring.”
Her eyes widened. And Seth knew why. Both of them had received calls. His CI was as trustworthy as a criminal informant could be. Which meant the guy could be swayed by a buck or two. And Shelby’s contact had been anonymous. Yet the calls had brought them here together with the lure of something they both wanted—evidence.
That couldn’t be good.
“You should leave now,” Seth told her, and he turned to head back to the warehouse.
Of course, she didn’t leave. Shelby trailed right along behind him. “But what if there really is something inside connected to the murder investigation?” she asked.
“Then, I’ll find it and turn it over to the authorities.”
She huffed. Again, he knew why. Shelby likely thought he wouldn’t want to add any more nails to his stepmother’s coffin. But if he did indeed find something, he wouldn’t suppress it. Because if Jewell was truly innocent—and Seth had to believe she was—then the total package of evidence would exonerate her.
Seth had to hope that.
“This could be dangerous,” he reminded her.
He hadn’t figured that would get her running, and he was right. It didn’t. He’d read some of the articles she’d done, and Shelby wasn’t a runner. She did all sorts of risky, stupid things to get a story.
Except this wasn’t just about a story.
Because Jewell had been accused of murdering Shelby’s father, Whitt.
That made this personal for both of them, and even though it wouldn’t stop him from looking inside the warehouse, Seth knew it was never a good idea to mix personal stuff with business.
“I’m not leaving,” Shelby insisted.
Seth wanted to roll his eyes. “Then, at least stay behind me in case something goes wrong.”
Of course, she didn’t do that, either. Shelby got in step along beside him. So close that he caught her scent.
Something girlie.
Or maybe womanly was the right word.
It was some kind of shampoo mixed with something natural. Something that reminded him that Shelby was a woman and not merely a neck he’d sometimes like to wring.
Seth decided to ignore her and her scent so he could get on with his job. The sooner he did that, the sooner he could figure out if there was something to find and then get the heck out of there.
The front door to the warehouse was wide-open, but Seth didn’t go there. Instead, he went to one of the windows that dotted the exterior. The glass was filmy and cracked, but he looked inside. Then he cursed under his breath.
It was too dark to see anything.
That meant going inside without the benefit of knowing if someone was lurking there, ready to attack.
“If someone shoots at us,” Seth snarled, “at least show some common sense and get down so you don’t get your head blown off.”
He hadn’t meant that to scare her. Okay, he had. But as with his other attempts, she didn’t scare this time. Shelby was right on his heels when he stepped into the doorway. Seth braced himself for whatever might happen, but nothing did.
He stood there a moment so his eyes could adjust to the darkness, and then he had a look around. It was basically just one giant room with what appeared to be an office on his left and an exit straight ahead. There was another room with its door closed on the right side of the building.
Boxes and other debris were scattered around, and the place smelled like a giant dust ball. Roaches skittered across the floor. It’d been more than six months since it’d been used to house the black market babies, and it was obvious no one had cleaned it since then.
He stepped inside the building. Bracketing his shooting wrist with his other hand, he pivoted in all directions.
Nothing.
And no sounds to indicate anyone else was inside.
Seth didn’t let down his guard, though. He kept his gun ready and went to the office door. What was left of it anyway. It was hanging on just one hinge, and it squeaked and swayed a little when he moved past it.
Creepy, but no one was in the office.
Behind him he heard Shelby fumbling around, and she pulled a penlight from her back jeans’ pocket. Seth took out his as well, and they clicked them on at the same time.
“If you find anything, don’t touch it,” Seth warned her.
She made a “duh” sound and fanned the light over the ceiling, then the floor. Seth didn’t see anything suspicious, but the dozen or so boxes could have something in them. He went in the direction of the nearest one, aiming his flashlight on the floor in front of him.
And he came to a dead stop.
Oh, no. Not that.
He stooped down, garnering Shelby’s attention because she hurried over to him. Seth moved the light closer so he could