Читать книгу Taming Jesse James - RaeAnne Thayne - Страница 8

It was nearly six when Jesse pulled into the Garretts’ driveway. He climbed out of the department Bronco and gazed up at the house, all three stories of it.

Somebody had been busy with spring cleaning, judging by the way the windows gleamed gold in the dying sun, without a streak. The place radiated warmth and elegance, from its perfectly manicured gardens to its cobblestone sidewalk.

The house was only a few years old, but a lifetime away from the miserable one-bedroom trailer halfway up Elk Mountain where Ginny and Corey had lived during her marriage to Hob Sylvester.

Jesse had worked for the county then as a deputy sheriff and he’d always hated going out on domestic disturbance calls there. He could still remember the tangible feeling of despair that permeated the thin, painfully bare walls, and his constant, frustrating attempts to convince Ginny to get out of the situation.

Oh, she would try. He knew that. She would move out for a few days or a week or two. But Hob still had enough high school football star in him to sweet-talk her back.

Hob hadn’t always been a son of a bitch, and maybe that was one of the things that kept Ginny hanging on. Once he’d been all charisma and slow, cowboy charm, the high school football standout everybody pegged to go pro. It hadn’t worked out that way. Something went wrong—Jesse wasn’t sure what—and a few years later Ginny got pregnant.

Jesse figured Hob must have seen it as just one more dirty trick played on him by fate. He’d done the right thing by marrying her, or what was considered the right thing by society, anyway. It sure as hell hadn’t been the right thing for Ginny. Hob had spent the next six years drinking hard and taking his bitterness out on her.

For more than a few of those years, Jesse had been just like him. It was a chapter in his life he hated to even remember, how after his parents’ deaths he’d spent many a night at the Renegade, trying to drown his guilt any way he could.

Jesse pushed the memory away. Anyway, Hob was gone. He’d taken up with a cocktail waitress from Idaho Falls about four years ago and the two of them had headed for Vegas, last Jesse heard.

Ginny had landed on her feet, that’s for sure. Ended up marrying her divorce attorney and now she and her kid lived in one of the fanciest houses in town and she drove a Range Rover and shopped at all the ritzy designer stores in Jackson Hole.

He thought of Sarah McKenzie’s accusations. He really hoped she was wrong. Ginny deserved a happy ending, after what she’d been through.

As he walked up the front steps, the intoxicating smells of spring drifted around him—sweet lilac bushes, damp, musty earth and meat sizzling on somebody’s grill nearby.

Salt River was his town and he was fiercely protective of it. When he was a kid, he couldn’t wait to get out. He’d been stupid enough to think the slow pace of a small town was strangling the life out of him. Once in a while he still hungered for something more than ticketing jaywalkers and breaking up the occasional bar fight, but he owed a debt to the people of this town.

One he’d be a long time repaying.

Besides, he couldn’t imagine living anywhere else on a beautiful, warm spring night like this. It was just about perfect, with kids jumping on a trampoline down the street, people working in their yards or reading the paper on their front porches, and sprinklers thumping happily all across town.

Not quite perfect, he amended. He still had the matter of Sarah McKenzie’s suspicions about Corey Sylvester to contend with.

He rang the doorbell and had to wait only a few seconds before Ginny Garrett answered.

Her face still retained most of the beauty that had won her the prom queen tiara in school. It brightened when she saw him, but her expression just as quickly grew wary. “What has Corey done now?” she asked, her voice resigned.

“Nothing. Least, nothing that I know about yet. That’s not why I’m here, anyway.”

“Oh. Well then, Seth’s not home, I’m afraid. He had a late meeting with a client.”

“Actually, I wanted to speak with you.”

Again, wariness vied with curiosity in her expression. “Come in, then,” she finally said. “We can talk in the living room.”

She led the way through the big house. Jesse had been there plenty of times on business with the mayor, but he always felt out of place amid the creamy whites and fancy furniture—afraid to move wrong in case he broke something expensive.

“Where’s Maddie?” he asked, of Corey’s six-month-old half sister.

“Napping. Finally.” Ginny rolled her eyes. “I know it’s almost bedtime anyway, but it’s been one of those days. She’s teething and has been running me ragged today. Would you care for something to drink? A pop or something?”

“No. I’m fine. I’d just as soon get this over with.”

She glanced at him. “That sounds pretty ominous. What’s this about, Jess?”

He sighed heavily. Damn, he didn’t want to do this. Ginny had been his friend for a long time—the first girl he’d ever kissed, way back in the second grade.

After the car accident that had killed his parents and left him in the hospital for nearly a month, she’d been one of the few people who didn’t offer him empty platitudes. Or, worse, who acted as if nothing had happened, when his whole life had just been ripped apart.

She had offered simple, calming comfort and he had never forgotten it.

Since then, she’d been to hell and back and had worked hard to make something out of her life. How could he tell her about Ms. McKenzie’s suspicions?

“Come on, Jess. Out with it. You’re scaring me.”

He blew out a breath, then met her worried gaze squarely. “How do Corey and Seth get on?”

Her brow furrowed. “What kind of question is that? They get along fine.”

“All the time?”

She continued to look puzzled. “Certainly they have their differences, I suppose. Corey can be difficult sometimes and he has a hard time with authority—you should know that as well as anybody. But Seth tries hard to be a good father. Why do you ask?”

Damn, this was tough. “There’s been an allegation that Corey is being abused.”

She stared at him, the color draining from her face until her skin just about matched the white of the sofa she was sitting on. “Abused? By Seth?”

He nodded grimly.

“This is some kind of sick joke, right? Who would say such a terrible thing? It’s not true. Absolutely not true.”

“It’s not completely unfounded, Gin. I understand he’s had several injuries in the last few weeks.”

“He’s a boy. A boy who gets into more than his fair share of mischief, but still just a boy. He has accidents.”

“You have to admit, it looks pretty suspicious, that many injuries in such a short period of time.”

“No. You’re wrong.” She jumped up and began to pace around the room. “Who is saying such terrible things? Who would want to hurt us like this?”

For a moment he debated telling her it was Sarah McKenzie, then he discarded the idea. Sarah still had to teach Corey in her class for the rest of the school year and he didn’t want to stir up trouble for her where he didn’t need to. “At this point, let’s just say it’s a concerned citizen. I swear, it’s no one with a hidden agenda, just somebody who cares about your son’s welfare.”

“Well, they’re wrong. Dead wrong.”

Sometimes he really hated this job. “I’m sorry, but I have to ask you, Ginny. Have you ever seen Seth hurting your son or do you have any reason to believe he might do so when you’re not around?”

Her mouth compressed into a thin line. She was quiet for several long moments. When she finally spoke, her voice was low and hurt. “How can you even think such a thing, Jess? You, of all people, should know better. You know what it was like for us before. Do you honestly think, after what my son has been through, that I would stand by and do nothing while it happens all over again?”

He believed her. How could he do anything else, faced with such complete, passionate sincerity?

“Seth is a good man,” she went on. “He’s decent and caring and in the last two years he’s been a wonderful father to Corey. He loves him, just as much as he loves Maddie. He even wants to adopt him!”

He sat back. “I’m sorry, Ginny. I had a hard time believing it, too, but I had to follow through and investigate.”

“I understand.”

“Did Corey have an explanation for being so accident-prone lately?”

Before she could answer, the front door opened and they heard the chink of keys being placed on a table in the hall.

Ginny paled a shade lighter. “That will be Seth. This is going to kill him, to have someone accuse him of such a thing.”

“Ginny?” the mayor called from the entry. “Why is a police Bronco parked in the driveway?” A moment later, he poked his head into the living room. He frowned when he saw Jess. “Chief! Is something wrong?”

“Seth, you’d better sit down,” Ginny began.

With a puzzled frown the mayor took a seat next to her. After Jesse reluctantly explained the purpose for his visit, Seth appeared just as shocked as his wife.

“It’s absolutely not true,” he said vehemently. “You must know that. I would never lay a hand on the boy.”

“I had to investigate, Seth.”

“Of course you did.” He frowned. “It must have taken great courage for someone to step forward with those kinds of suspicions. Too many people just look the other way, not wanting to get involved. I’d like to know who instigated this.”

Again Jesse thought of Sarah McKenzie and her nervousness in his office. He found himself strangely reluctant to mention her involvement, again using the excuse that she still had to teach Corey for the rest of the school year and it might make things awkward for her.

Rather than answer Seth, he opted to change the subject instead. “Something is still going on with Corey and I think we need to find out what. That many accidents in such a short time is pretty suspicious. Do you think someone else might be hurting him?”

Ginny looked as if she might be sick. Seth must have seen it, too. He grabbed her hand and squeezed tightly. “Who?” he asked. “Who would do that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe someone at school. Has Corey given you any reason to think he’s being bullied? Or that he’s been fighting with any of the other boys?”

“If anyone is beating on him, it’s probably that Connor boy.” Seth’s voice dripped disgust.

“Luke’s kid?”

Ginny nodded. “He’s always hanging around with Corey. But he’s in junior high school! What does he want with a ten-year-old?”

Dusty Connor had been in just as many scrapes with the law as Corey. Where Corey’s shenanigans leaned toward the clever and mischievous, Dusty’s were usually plain mean.

“I don’t know, but I think we need to find out,” Jesse said.

“How?”

Before he could answer her, they heard the sound of a door slamming, then a voice from the kitchen of the house. “Mom, I’m home,” Corey called.

“We’re in the living room,” Ginny answered. “Come in here, please.”

They heard a loud, exasperated sigh and then Corey wandered into the room. With a basketball under his arm and dressed in baggy shorts, a T-shirt and high-top sneakers, he looked like most of the other ten-year-olds in town except for a black eye and all that attitude radiating from him like heat waves off a sidewalk.

“What’s for din—” he started to ask, then his gaze landed on Jess. For one brief instant, pure panic flickered across his expression, but he quickly hid it behind belligerence. “I didn’t do nothin’.”

Interesting. Now, why would the kid suddenly break a sweat just at the sight of a cop when he’d always been a cocky little wise guy, even when Jesse or one of the five officers in his department caught him red-handed up to something?

What was he messed up in now that had him so jumpy? Whatever it was, Jesse had a bad feeling about it. He obviously needed to keep a better eye on the kid.

He raised an eyebrow. “What makes you so sure you’re in trouble?”

“I’m not?” Corey’s voice cracked on the second word.

“Should you be?”

“No. I told you, I ain’t done nothin’.”

“Haven’t done anything,” Ginny corrected quietly.

“Whatever.”

“Good,” Jesse said, thinking fast. “Because I need your help.”

All three of them stared at him. To Ginny and Seth, he sent a reassuring smile. He’d been a cop a long time and the one thing he’d learned was to trust his instincts. He could start interrogating the boy about his injuries—the black eyes, the cut, whatever bruises the schoolteacher had seen that afternoon.

But judging by his experiences with Corey, he was sure the kid wouldn’t tell them a thing. He would turn closemouthed and uncooperative and give Jesse the same bull he’d been giving everybody else about his injuries.

On the other hand, if he could spend a little time with Corey—convince the kid to trust him—maybe Jesse could get to the bottom of this.

“I’m in need of a partner for a couple days. You interested?”

The boy looked baffled. “A partner?”

“Yeah. I’m coming to school next month to talk about crime prevention.” That much was true, at least. The annual visit had been scheduled for weeks. The rest he was making up as he went along.

“I was thinking I could use somebody who knows his way around to help me out,” Jesse went on. “Give the other kids some pointers about how to stay safe and out of trouble.”

“Me? You want me to help you?”

“Why not?”

The boy looked as if he could think of a million reasons why not, but there was also an unmistakable curious light in his eyes.

Jesse decided to play on that. “You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, but I could really use your help. If you agree to help me, you’ll need to come to the station a few times so we can figure out what we’re going to do. What do you think?”

“Sounds lame.”

“Maybe. That’s why I need your help. You can make me sound cool enough that the kids will listen to me.”

“You want me to help you be cool?”

He had to fight a triumphant grin at the unwilling fascination in the boy’s eyes at the idea. “Yeah. Think you can handle it?”

“I don’t know, Chief.” The kid sent him a sidelong look. “Could be a pretty tough job.”

Jesse laughed. “I think you’re man enough to handle it.”

Corey chewed his lip, and Jesse could just about see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to figure out all the angles. He held his breath, waiting for the boy’s answer. After a few beats, Corey shrugged his bony shoulders. “Sure. Why not?”

“Great. Meet me at my office tomorrow after school.”

“Whatever. Can I go now?” he asked his mother.

Ginny nodded. As soon as they heard footsteps pounding up the stairs, both of the Garretts turned to him.

“What was that all about?” Seth asked.

“It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. I figured maybe if I have a chance to talk one-on-one with him, he might open up a little and tell me what’s going on.”

“Are you sure Corey would be willing to do this?” Ginny asked with a frown. “And even if he does, how do you know he’ll talk to you?”

“Well, even if he doesn’t open up and talk to me about whatever’s going on with him, maybe he’ll learn something himself about staying out of trouble.”

A strident cry echoed through the house suddenly. “There’s Maddie.” Ginny rose from the couch.

Jesse stood, as well. “I’ll get out of your hair, then.”

“Would you like to stay for supper? We’re having fried chicken and mashed potatoes.”

The offer of some decent home cooking for a change had his mouth watering.

He used to drop by the family ranch two or three nights a week when Cassie lived there with Matt and Lucy. She was divine in the kitchen. But after Matt’s wedding, Cassie had surprised them all by taking a job at a dude ranch north of town and moving out. Since Jesse didn’t want to bug the newlyweds while they were busy setting up house, for the past month he’d had to make do with his own pitiful attempts at cooking.

As much as he wouldn’t mind staying for supper, he suddenly decided he’d much rather stop in to see Sarah McKenzie again. She was probably wondering what had happened with Corey.

And he had a powerful hankering to see if he could figure out what had put those shadows in her pretty green eyes.

Every muscle in her body ached.

That would teach her to spend two solid hours yanking weeds and hauling compost. Sarah winced at the burn in her arms as she tried to comb the snarls out of her hair. Even after a long, pounding shower with water as hot as she could stand, her muscles still cried out in protest.

She was so out of shape, it was pathetic. After the attack, she had become almost manic about trying to rebuild the damage that had been done to her body. Maybe on some subconscious level she had thought if she were stronger or faster she could protect herself. She had followed her physical therapy routine religiously, working for hours each day to regain strength.

Eventually, though, she had become so frustrated at the reality of her new, permanent limitations that she had eased off.

After she came to Salt River, it had been so exhausting at first just keeping up with her students she hadn’t had energy to exercise. Eventually, she fell into a busy routine that didn’t leave much time for anything but school.

Still, she should have made time. Working out in the yard shouldn’t leave her knee on fire and the rest of her throbbing muscles jumbled into one big ache.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. She thought working in the garden after school might calm her nerves, just as it always did. But she was just as edgy and upset as she had been at the police station.

By now, Chief Harte had probably spoken with the Garretts. She should be relieved, and she was. She was. Whoever was hurting that child deserved to be punished. She knew that and believed it fiercely. At the same time, she couldn’t help the nervousness that had settled in her stomach and refused to leave, or the tiny voice that called her crazy for getting involved at all.

Hadn’t she learned her lesson? Hadn’t Tommy DeSilva taught her in savage, brutal detail what happened to nosy schoolteachers who didn’t mind their own business?

She pushed the thought away. Once more she had a child to protect—it wasn’t simply a case of turning in a vicious criminal. She had made the right decision, eighteen months ago and today. She had done what she had to do. The only thing she could have done.

She didn’t want to think about it. Any of it. After quickly pulling her hair into a ponytail to keep it out of her face, she limped from the bedroom to the kitchen, her knee crying out with every step.

Dinner was the usual, something packaged out of the freezer and intended to be eaten in solitude. What was more pitiful than shoving a frozen dinner in the microwave, then eating it in front of the television set alone? she wondered.

She had to get out more, she thought as she finally settled on a low-fat chicken-and-rice meal. It was a vow she made to herself with grim regularity, but she never seemed to do anything about it. When was the last time she’d shared an evening meal with someone besides Tom Brokaw? She couldn’t even remember.

She never used to be such an introvert. In Chicago she’d had a wide, eclectic circle of friends. Artists, social activists, computer geeks. They went to plays and poetry readings and Cubs games together.

At first her friends had tried to rally around her, with cards and gifts and visits in the hospital. Unable to face their awkwardness and pity, she had pushed them all away, even Andrew.

Especially Andrew.

She had given him back his ring when she was still in the hospital, and he had taken it with a guilty relief that shamed both of them.

She didn’t blame him. Not really. That day had changed her, had shattered something vital inside her. Eighteen months later she still hadn’t made much progress repairing it.

She knew her friends and family all thought she was running away when she decided to take a teaching job in small-town Wyoming. She couldn’t deny there was truth to that. She had been running away, had searched the Internet for job listings in small towns as far away as she could find.

But escaping Chicago and the grim memories of that fateful morning had been only part of the reason she had come here.

She needed to be in a place where she could feel clean again.

The microwave dinged. Grateful to escape her thoughts, she reached in with a pot holder to pull out her dinner just as the doorbell chimed through the little house.

She’d heard the sound so seldom that it took her a moment to figure out what it was. Who could be here? Her heart fluttered with wild panic for just an instant, but she took a quick, calming breath. She had nothing to worry about, not here in Salt River.

Setting her plate on the table, she made her way out of the kitchen and down the hall to the door, careful not to put too much stress on her knee. At first all she could see through the peephole was a hard, broad chest, but then she saw the badge over one tan denim pocket and realized it must be Chief Harte.

Her heart fluttered again, but she wasn’t completely sure it was only with panic this time. Why did the man have such an effect on her? She hated it. Absolutely hated it!

The bell rang—impatiently, she thought—and with one more deep breath, she opened the door.

His smile sent her pulse into double time. “I was just driving home and thought I’d check in with you and let you know how things went at the mayor’s place.”

As much as she’d like to, she knew she couldn’t very well talk to him through the screen door “I…come in.” She held the door open, wishing she were wearing something a little more professional than a pair of faded jeans and an old Northwestern sweatshirt.

The small foyer shrank by half as soon as he walked inside. There was absolutely no way she could stand there and carry on a half-rational conversation with him looming over her, looking so big and imposing. The house she rented was tiny, with a living room only a few feet larger than the entry. Where else could they go?

“It’s a nice night,” she said impulsively. “We can talk outside. Is that all right?”

She took his shrug for assent and led him through the house to the covered porch, flipping on the recessed lights overhead as they went through the door.

The back porch had become her favorite spot lately. She hadn’t realized how closed in and trapped she’d been feeling during the harsh Wyoming winter until the relentless snow finally began to give way to spring.

As the temperatures warmed, she discovered she liked to sit out here in the evenings and look up at the mountains. Their massive grandeur comforted her, in some strange way she couldn’t define.

A few weeks ago she’d found some wicker furniture in the shed and dragged it up the porch stairs. She’d purchased matching cushions and hung baskets over-flowing with flowers around the porch to create a cozy little haven. She’d been very pleased with the results, but now, trying to see the place through Chief Harte’s eyes, she felt awkward. Exposed, somehow.

He sprawled into one of the wicker chairs, completely dwarfing it. “This is nice,” he murmured. “Hell of a view from here.”

“I imagine you’re used to it, since you grew up in Star Valley.”

His mouth quirked into a half smile that did more annoying things to her nerves. “I’ve seen those mountains just about every day of the last thirty-three years and they still sometimes take my breath away.”

She wouldn’t have expected such an admission from him. It made him seem perhaps a little softer, a little less intimidating, to know they shared this, at least.

Before she could come up with an answer, he settled back into his chair and stretched his long legs out in front of him until his boots almost touched one of her sneakers. Closing his eyes, he looked for all the world as if he were settling in for the night.

“This is really nice,” he repeated.

She cleared her throat, suddenly not at all sure she wanted Jesse Harte lounging so comfortably on her back porch. “So what happened at the Garretts? Did you make an arrest?”

“No. Sorry to disappoint you, but the mayor is still a free man. And it looks like he’s going to stay that way.”

She stared at him. “Why?”

He opened one eye. “He and Ginny both said he’d never hurt the boy, and I believe them.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Renewed fury pounded through her. It had all been for nothing—risking her job and tangling with the man she had spent eight months doing her best to avoid. For nothing.

Despite her own nightmares, she had done the right thing by going to the proper authority and he had basically laughed in her face.

Calm down, Sarah.

A corner of her brain sent out strident warning bells that she was going to say or do something she would regret, but she ignored it, lost to everything but her anger.

“I can’t believe this,” she snapped. “If I ever wanted to commit a crime, Salt River, Wyoming, would obviously be the place for it. All I have to do is swear to the police chief that I didn’t do anything and I’ll be home free.”

He dropped his relaxed pose as easily as a snake shedding his skin and straightened in the chair. “Now, wait a minute…”

“Of course, maybe I’d have to be a powerful person like the mayor so I can get away with it,” she went on, as if he hadn’t spoken. “Apparently, holding political office around here gives a person the right to do whatever he darn well pleases.”

“I can see where you’d think that, but you’re wrong. Dead wrong. If I thought for one minute Seth had given that boy so much as a hangnail, you can be damn sure I wouldn’t let him get away with it.”

“Lucky for him, then, that he managed to convince you he didn’t do anything. I’d like you to leave now, Chief Harte.”

She whirled away from him with an angry, abrupt movement, completely forgetting that her knee was in no condition to withstand the stress of such a quick motion.

She heard an ominous pop, then she had the sudden, sick sensation of falling as her knee gave out.

One instant she was tumbling toward the hard wooden slats of the porch, the next she heard an alarmed “Hey!” and found herself wrapped in strong male arms, shoved back against a hard, muscled chest.

For a moment she froze as she was surrounded by heat and strength, helpless to get away. And then panic took over. He had held her just like this, from behind, with her arms locked at her sides.

Instantly she was once more in that dingy Chicago classroom, with its dirty windows and broken desks and stale, tired air.

Not again. She wouldn’t let this happen again.

She couldn’t breathe, suddenly, couldn’t think. Her heart was racing, adrenaline pumping like crazy, and only one thought pierced her panic.

Escape.

Somehow, some way, this time she had to escape.