Читать книгу The Sheriff's Secret - Julie Anne Lindsey - Страница 12
ОглавлениеTina touched her hair nervously as she entered the bustling sheriff’s department. West hadn’t made a big deal out of her appearance, but she knew exactly what she looked like. Death.
The cluster of deputies and administrative staff huddled around a desk straightened to welcome their leader. Cole broke away from the group as West and Tina approached. The others stopped to stare.
“Tina Ellet,” West said, “I’d like you to meet the Cade County Sheriff’s Department. Team, this is Miss Ellet.”
The group offered warm smiles, but their gazes traveled the circuit from her to West and then to Cole. He’d clearly filled the group in on her history with their sheriff. Ridiculously, her cheeks heated.
Cole greeted West with a handshake, then turned an apologetic expression on Tina. “I’m sorry this is happening to you.” He barely resembled the gangly teen she remembered. No more acne or braces. His undeniable Garrett genes had brought him through puberty with a gold star. Exactly like his brothers.
She pulled the bag higher on her shoulder and gripped it with one hand. “Thanks.”
Tina scanned her new surroundings with curiosity. Miraculously, she’d never been inside the station before. It wasn’t the way she’d imagined. Based on the horror stories her father had told, she’d assumed the place was dark and scary. Full of people like him in handcuffs. Instead, the building was open-concept, bright and clean. The walls were lined in diplomas, Don’t Text and Drive posters and a cluster of community boards with fund-raising flyers pinned to them.
West lifted a hand in Tina’s direction, but dropped it quickly with a frown. “There’s coffee and hot water for tea in the break room, and there’s normally something to eat on the counter. Fruit. Bagels.” He stepped away from the little group, and she followed.
She hurried behind him down a long hallway lined with closed doors. Her stomach twisted into painful knots at the thought of food. “Just a shower, I think.”
He stopped at a door marked Locker Room. “We’ll need to put your clothes into an evidence bag, so leave them out when you’re done.” He pushed the door open and held it for her. “I’ll flip the in-use sign so no one bothers you. Small building. Everything’s coed.”
Tina hesitated. Police station or not, the empty room was frightening. “Will you be here when I get out?”
West looked over his shoulder. “I’ll try. I need to touch base with my team and see what’s been done. If no one’s visited the two men who missed your group this afternoon, then I’d like to get over there myself. I’ve got a limited number of deputies and a vested interest in this case.”
Tina tried not to wonder if that “vested interest” was her. “Has anyone tried calling the men who missed the meeting?” Why hadn’t she thought to do that? “I have their numbers in my phone.” She dug nervously through the giant bag on her shoulder and nearly dumped the contents.
“Hey.” West’s steady hand fell upon her fluttering one. “Stop.” He gripped her fingers until she looked his way.
She pulled in deep breaths, borrowing strength from his touch. “What if the gunman visited them before coming to our session? Maybe that’s why they weren’t in group today.”
“It’s unlikely,” West said, “but we’re going to find out. Plus, I have questions for them. We really don’t know what’s going on in the big picture yet.” He lowered his face to her level and searched her with kind eyes. “Can you think of any connection between the victim and yourself beyond your recent professional relationship?”
Tina considered the way she’d found Steven asleep at a bus stop outside the hospital last month. They were strangers until then, and had only seen each other at group sessions since. “No. None. Why?”
“I’m still trying to figure out how the shooting and the break-in are related. The crimes are vastly different, but the timing has my flags up. If the shooter is the same man who attacked me at your home, understanding the link between the three of you would be helpful. I’ll be back once I drop in on your absentees, then we can finish our interview. I still need a formal statement from you.”
Tina straightened. “Take me with you.”
He followed her lead, returning to his full height with a snap. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“West.”
His expression changed, ever so slightly.
“Please.” The stubborn sting of emotion bit at her eyes and nose. “I need to know the rest of my patients are safe. If they don’t answer their phones, I’m going to pay them visits myself. Seems like I’d be safer with you.”
“I need you here making a formal statement.”
“I’ll write it while you drive. I promise.” She hoped the desperation in her heart came through in her tone. “Please don’t leave me behind.”
West ducked his head and gripped the back of his neck. “You shower. I’ll try to reach the men by phone before I leave. We already have their numbers.” He turned on his heels and walked away.
“Does that mean I can go with you?” she called after him.
“You’ve got ten minutes.”
Tina ran for the shower. Ten minutes wouldn’t have seemed like long enough time to get wet before Lily was born. Since then, Tina had learned to do almost anything in a quarter of the time it had once taken.
She folded her stained clothes and stacked them on a bench for evidence, tucking her underthings carefully between the pieces, unsure if she was meant to turn those in, too. These were things a person should never have to wonder. The things that had happened today didn’t belong in Shadow Point, Kentucky. They were fodder for television crime shows or the headlines of a city she’d never visit.
Tina doused her hair with shampoo and lathered her body fron neck to toes in seconds, scrubbing harder than necessary, until the water ran clear. Ironic, because she doubted the stains from her day would ever truly be gone. She shook off the heavy wave of emotion and concentrated on the ticking clock. The damp towel was in the communal hamper and she was re-dressed with four minutes to spare. Tina grabbed her things and yanked open the locker room door. Hopefully, West had really waited. If he hadn’t, she wouldn’t blame him.
She’d always hated the way she’d left things with him after high school. When the college scholarship she’d applied for came through, she’d packed up and asked him to understand. It wasn’t an opportunity anyone could pass up, certainly not her. She’d needed to get out of Shadow Point like she needed oxygen. West had wanted to get married. He’d wanted a house and some land, a perfect replica of what his parents had, but Tina didn’t believe in fairy tales, and at eighteen, she couldn’t see past her escape. She’d picked up the phone a thousand times over the years to tell him the truth about why she had to leave. Her family was a train wreck. Her father was in jail now, probably for the rest of his life, and her mother had run away in his absence. Tina was broken because of it, and West deserved better. Without her to hold him back, West had enlisted in the military, served overseas and come home to be the county sheriff. She had been baggage for him, but she could never find the strength to say those things out loud, so she didn’t. Pride was vindictive that way.
* * *
WEST PRESSED HIS palms to the desk, scanning the map before him. Cole and the other Cade County deputies had compiled a list of viable reports about a man in a dark jacket and jeans spotted near the crime scene. Though no one outside Tina’s group had witnessed the attack, several had heard the gunshot and called to report it. A handful had confirmed Tina’s claim about the old pickup truck. “You can’t throw a stone without hitting an old pickup in this county,” West groaned.
“Someone thought it was a faded red Ford,” Cole said. “That’s something.”
West rubbed his eyes. Let Cole be the optimist for a change. Someone had to be because West wasn’t finding a lot of hope in the reports he had in front of him. The descriptions were in agreement, but the locations were all over the place. “So he either went north or south?”
Cole sighed. “Yep.”
West strained upright and shook his head. “Did we catch a lead on the assailant at Tina’s home?”
“No.” Cole lifted his brows. “How’s your head?”
West frowned. “Hurts. What else do you have for me?”
“We found a standard 30-06 shell casing on the building’s roof at the crime scene.”
“I guess that’s something.”
Cole didn’t look hopeful. “It’s the same ammo we’d find in half the homes in Cade County. Hell, I’ve got the same stuff at my place.”
West adjusted his hat over the tender lump. If Cole saw it, he’d try to administer first aid, and he’d had enough of that from Tina. “See if ballistics can get a match. Maybe the gun’s been used in another crime. We might be able to find him that way.” He pulled his shoulders back, trying and failing to alleviate the tension there. “Have we been able to reach either missing group member?”
Cole pressed his lips and shook his head. “No. When I couldn’t reach them at their home numbers, I called their places of employment. One man went to work on schedule last night and left this morning without incident. The other called off before breakfast.”
West grabbed his keys. “So, both whereabouts are unaccounted for. I’m heading out to see what kept them away from the meeting. Let Tina know—”
“Let Tina know what?” Her voice startled him into a spin. “By my watch, I have two minutes left on the ten you gave me.”
Cole smiled against one fist, then failed to cover his humor with a cough. “You want to split the work, boss? I’ll hit one, you take the other?”
“I’d like to speak with them both,” Tina said.
Cole cast a quizzical look in West’s direction.
West shook his head. “Why don’t you take the guy who went to work last night? I’ll take the guy who called off this morning.”
Cole ducked his chin and made for the door.
West turned to address the remaining deputies. “Call me direct with anything new. I want to be kept up to the minute on this, and when they’re done collecting prints over at Miss Ellet’s home, have someone stay put until I get back.”
A round of “Yes, sirs” drifted through the electrified air. West’s chest puffed with pride. His deputies were the best in the state. He’d made a habit of reaching out to the most dedicated and promising rookies as early as possible, and when positions arose within his team, he gave those men and women a call. It was a practice he’d learned from his father, the sheriff before him. Stacking the deck in Cade County’s favor was a Garrett family tradition, and one more reason the son of a gun who did this would soon be sorry.
He shoved the front door open and held it for Tina to pass.
She stopped to face him in the narrow threshold. “You were going to leave me?” Her steel blue eyes nailed him to the wall.
West swallowed long and slow. The energy building between them in the small space was more of a distraction than he could allow. A fitted sweater and jeans clung to her youthful figure, reminding him of the many times he’d personally helped her out of them. He extended one arm into the dreary day. “You’re here now, so let’s go.”
* * *
THE RIDE TO Carl Morgan’s house was long and slow. The heater vents circulated scents of Tina’s shampoo and perfume around his head in a hurricane of distraction. “Tell me about this guy,” West said, flipping his headlights on to illuminate the gloomy road.
Tina shifted in her seat, angling toward him. “Carl’s a nice man. He’s about our age, originally from Florida. He works at Franklin’s Garage. Lives alone. He’s quiet and a little detached. It’s common with trauma survivors. Tender hearts hurt deeply, and we live in a world where growing tough skin is practically a survival requirement.”
“Could he have gotten himself into trouble? Maybe ticked off a homicidal maniac?”
Tina’s head was shaking before West stopped talking. “No. Carl’s a people-pleaser, but he’d avoid intimidating individuals.”
“Not every shooter is an intimidating individual. Look at school shooters and others who’ve committed similar crimes. They’re a lot of things, but dangerous-looking isn’t one of them.”
She glanced his way, then back at the road.
“Given that you are well aware of the profile for someone who’d pull a stunt like this, can you tell me unequivocally that neither Carl Morgan or Tucker Bixby fit the mold?”
“No, but I can tell you there isn’t a mold, and that the number of patients in therapy is far smaller than the number of folks who need it but aren’t getting it. There are probably a hundred people in Cade County who psychologically fit the bill that we don’t know about. So you have no hard evidence to support your theory that the shooter is connected to my group.”
West gripped the wheel tighter, unable to argue and unwilling to upset her further by playing devil’s advocate. The truth was, he had no idea what was going on in his county today. “Is there anything else you can tell me about Carl before we get there?”
“No. Just that he’s doing phenomenally in group, so please don’t upset him if you can help it. News of the shooting will be tough enough—badgering him could set his progress back, and I don’t want that.”
The country road rose and fell before them under a covering of gray clouds. Green reflections of little eyes blinked along the roadside, considering a test of their fate.
It was late in October and nearing lunchtime already. Barely six hours of sunlight remaining. West had enjoyed autumn as a kid, but he’d learned to see it as a hindrance after joining local law enforcement. Shorter days meant fewer hours to look for clues and missing people. It also gave criminals more time to hide under the cover of night.
Tina fidgeted with the hem of her sweater. “Where do you think the shooter is now? Do people like that just go home and have dinner? Do they kill themselves? Leave the state?”
“Depends.” West slowed the cruiser to a crawl at the end of a narrow dirt road. Peeling numbers on the battered mailbox suggested that they’d arrived. “This it?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never been here.”
West spun his wheel, navigating a sharp right into the unknown. No Trespassing signs were nailed to posts on either side of the road. A trailer stood fifty feet back, bookended by trees and a picnic table. An aged blue car sat in a bed of gravel out front.
“That’s his car,” Tina said, unbuckling her belt.
“Wait.” West stretched a hand across her middle like a guard gate. “It’s dark under all these clouds and trees. I want you to stay put until I give you a signal.”
“Why?” She dropped her voice to a low, ragged whisper. “Do you think the killer’s here?”
He gave the dark trailer another long inspection. “Not necessarily. There’s only one vehicle, and it’s not a pickup, but I’d rather be safe, so wait here until I give you an all clear. Understand?”
“Okay.”
He popped his door open and flashed her a warning look when the interior light came on. “I mean it this time.”
She made a show of fixing her hands on her lap.
West flipped his bright lights on and locked her in the car. The cruiser’s headlights illuminated a path to the trailer. West scanned the ground for signs of a struggle as he moved. Nothing unusual, no fallen items, drag marks or drops of blood. He stepped with care onto the makeshift wooden deck outside the front door, and a motion light snapped on.
West’s heart rate sprang into overdrive. He reseated his sidearm, unleashed on instinct at the unexpected flick of the light, and rapped on the trailer door. Surprisingly, the shock hadn’t increased his headache. The aspirin must’ve finally taken effect. He braced his free palm against the butt of his gun. “Cade County Sheriff, Mr. Morgan,” he boomed.
The trailer rocked slightly. Interior lights flashed on one by one from the back to the front. West moved away as the silver door swung open.
A heavy-lidded man in worn jeans and a faded blue T-shirt squinted at the cruiser’s lights. “Hello?”
“Over here, Mr. Morgan,” West said. “Do you know why I’m here?” He examined Carl slowly for signs of a weapon.
Carl blinked long and slow, scrubbing calloused hands over his thick brown hair. “Was there an accident on the road?”
“No, sir.” West took a more relaxed stance, but kept the distance. “You want to tell me why you aren’t at work?”
“I had a migraine.” He pressed a palm to one side of his head in evidence. “I’ve been in bed.”
“You get migraines often?”
“Sometimes.” Carl’s gaze drifted back to the cruiser. “Is someone else in there?” He shielded his eyes with one hand.
West ignored the question. “You’ve been home all morning?”
Carl dipped his chin, still preoccupied with the cruiser’s lights.
“Any visitors?”
“Not until you. Why? I don’t understand what’s going on.”
“You missed your group session. Don’t you usually call ahead if you’re not coming?”
“I—I’ve never missed. I d-didn’t know I had to call.”
The stutter gave West pause. Tina’s words came back to mind. Much as he’d like to continue questioning Carl alone, he didn’t want to be the reason the man relapsed or whatever Tina had just warned might happen. He lifted a hand without taking his eyes off Carl and opened and shut his palm, beckoning Tina from her place of safety. He changed positions as she approached, putting the trailer’s wall at his back and everything else within his line of vision, peripheral or otherwise.
The passenger door opened, and Carl took a step backward, arm extended toward the trailer door.
“Stop,” West ordered, and both people froze. He motioned to Tina again, attention fixed on Carl. “Keep your hands where I can see them, Mr. Morgan.”
He didn’t have to guess when Tina came into focus for Carl. The man’s eyebrows stretched into his hairline, and his mouth dropped open. It was the reaction he expected most men had when they first saw her. Having been the onetime recipient of her rejection, West might’ve felt bad for the guy if there wasn’t a shooter in town with his sick mind set on Tina. As far as West was concerned, all men were suspects until proven otherwise.
