Читать книгу Memory of Murder - Ramona Richards - Страница 11

TWO

“Mild concussion. Ribs bruised but fortunately not broken. Cuts and abrasions, along with the burn, which—”

“In other words, I can get back to work. Now.” Jeff tugged his uniform shirt closed and buttoned it, trying to ignore the dirt smears and tiny tears from the gravel. He tucked it into his waistband, wincing at the soreness in his chest and muscles. The bandages they’d taped over his few injuries pulled against his skin as he tightened his belt.

Nick Collins, the emergency-room doctor who had treated more than his fair share of the sheriff’s officers, stopped typing on a mini-laptop and looked up at Jeff over the top of his reading glasses. “What’s got you in such a snit? You’re usually the calm one on Ray’s team.”

Standing behind Nick, Sheriff Ray Taylor spoke grimly. “He failed in his duty.”

Jeff scowled, feeling his face heat up, as Nick took off the black-framed glasses and tucked them into the pocket of his white coat. “Well, you also got kicked in the head. That sounds more amusing than it is. I don’t want you taking chances with that. Besides, the guy who did it is in a coma at Vanderbilt and Lindsey is a few rooms over, giving our nurses a run for their money. She’ll be all right. What’s left to do tonight?”

Ray shifted his weight but before he could reply, Jeff snapped, “Forensics. I want to look in the car. And review the reports, and talk to Lindsey about—”

Nick closed the mini-laptop and moved toward Jeff. “Now slow down. I get the picture. I don’t want to take any chances on the concussion. I’ve said you can leave, but only if there’s someone who can check on you tonight and in the morning.”

Jeff grabbed the opening. “I live over my parents’ garage.”

“Your dad is Alan Gage, right?”

Jeff nodded. “Stepdad.”

“Whatever. If Alan will agree to check in on you, I’ll have you out of here in an hour.” Nick nodded once, then turned and pushed through the door of Jeff’s E.R. room.

Ray stepped up in his place, speaking before Jeff could get a word out. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Ray—”

“No.” The sheriff crossed his arms over his chest. “First, you were on duty, but you were also a victim. I’ll have to think twice about your level of involvement. Second, Troy and his tow truck are at the scene. He’s going to haul the GTO to the garage, and we’ll go over it tomorrow. No one’s going to touch it.”

“His garage isn’t secure enough for a kidnap—”

“It’ll be fine. Troy’s Rottweilers won’t let anyone touch it.”

“But—”

Ray put up a palm. “Jeff, quit pushing. You keep this up, and I’ll ask Nick to keep you overnight. Be satisfied that they’re dismissing you and that Lindsey’s not hurt any worse than she is.”

Jeff let out a long breath as the door opened behind Ray. “No thanks to me.”

Ray stepped closer. “You did nothing wrong. No one could have thrown off two attacks like that.”

“That boy raised a lot of red flags. I should have paid attention.”

“Stop that!” A small hand waved at him, and Lindsey limped into the room, a crutch under one arm. “You did everything you could.”

Jeff’s eyes widened at the sight of her. “Everything but stop him.”

Ray scowled. “Both of you hush. Lindsey, what are you doing out of bed?”

Lindsey forced a small smile made crooked by her swollen jaw. A sharp feeling spiked right into Jeff’s chest. “I refuse.”

Both men stared at her. “What?” Jeff asked.

Lindsey looked at him. “It’s our rallying cry. The Presley sisters.” She glanced at Ray. “You can ask June about it. She wrote it. Made us memorize it. We’d say it to each other when things with our dad turned horrible. ‘I refuse to give up, give in, give over. I refuse to be defeated. He won’t win.’ After a while, we’d just look at each other and say ‘I refuse.’”

She turned back to Jeff. “I know what the second guy did, what he threatened. To both of us. Yeah, he nearly scared me to death. But I refuse. And Ray’s right. I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

Ray muttered, “Oh, boy,” as Lindsey’s blue eyes widened.

She pushed a loose strand of blond hair behind her ear and stood a little taller. “I beg your pardon.”

Jeff felt the heat rising in his cheeks again. “That’s not what I meant! You look great. Always. But you’re hurt. I mean—the bandages—”

Lindsey nodded. “And the cuts and bruises.”

“Yeah...”

“And the limp. I twisted my ankle. Not bad. Just a mild sprain.”

“Yes...”

“They’ll heal. I really will be all right.”

Jeff shook his head. “Lindsey, that’s not all—”

“And the guy who did it is in a coma.”

“But he didn’t do it alone.”

A rigid silence hung in the air a few moments, then Ray spoke quietly. “So let’s go over it again.”

Jeff sat up straighter, wincing a bit from the pain of his bruised ribs. Ray took more notes as Jeff repeated his version of the night’s events. “I can’t get this out of my mind. The first guy was a kid. Not more than twenty, if that. And really strung out on something. Meth. Coke. Something.”

Lindsey nodded again, watching Jeff closely. “He was sweating like a pig. Muttering. Totally stressed out.”

“And that car.” He looked at Ray. “You know what a classic GTO in prime condition is worth?

“About fifty grand, last time I checked.”

“So would it be your first choice for a kidnapping? Why not a van or an SUV? Something more practical. Nondescript. Cheap.”

“You think it was stolen or that it belonged to the second guy?”

Jeff shrugged. “I don’t know. But I do think the second guy was in charge. The kid was a mess, but the second guy...he was cold, unfeeling. The kid used the stun gun on me because he had to. The older guy did it because he wanted to.”

“Turn, three miles.”

Both men looked at Lindsey. “What?” asked Jeff.

She watched him closely, curiosity lighting her eyes. “That’s what the kid kept repeating. ‘Turn, three miles.’ And...” She took a deep breath. “He didn’t know where he was going.”

Ray and Jeff exchanged looks. “How do you know?” asked Ray.

“He had directions written down on paper. Kept checking them, talking to himself. That’s how I knew he was about to turn left. How I knew when to try something. And that paper is what the other guy stole out of the car.”

Ray focused on Jeff again. “Well, Deputy Gage, looks like you have a lot of work to do on this one.”

Jeff stared at his boss. “You’re letting me take the lead on this?”

“Watching you two, I’m not sure I could stop you. Both of your minds are already clicking through the steps. But you do everything by the book. Document everything. No shortcuts that could undermine our case in court. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now, I’ll get you and Lindsey home, and keep the guard on her tonight. I’ll bring her back to the station in the morning. Meet us there first thing, and we’ll get her statement and get the investigation up and running.”

“I have to open for breakfast at five-thirty.”

Jeff stared at Lindsey, her words sinking in. “You’re opening the restaurant tomorrow?”

Lindsey nodded, her eyes wide. “Of course, I am. The restaurant has only been open six months. The commuters have gotten into the routine of stopping for my coffee before work, and I’m getting a crew of regulars who come in for breakfast. People are expecting me to be there. I can’t close when I’m perfectly capable of opening. That would be ridiculous.”

“Lindsey, you are still in danger. What if he comes back to the restaurant and you’re hurt worse?” Jeff couldn’t keep the desperation out of his voice. He never wanted to see her hurt again.

“Do you really think someone would try again with a restaurant full of people?”

“The point is we don’t know what will happen.”

“Well, I’m not about to put my job on hold while you do yours.”

“Lindsey—”

“No.”

Jeff sighed. “Why is that everyone’s favorite word tonight?” He looked at Ray, whose mouth twisted into a smirk. “What are you smiling at?”

“Just thinking about how many times I’ve had a similar debate with my wife.” He looked at Lindsey. “If I didn’t know you were sisters, I would know you were sisters.” Ray’s wife, June, notorious for her quick temper and outspoken nature, had stood her ground against Ray and Jeff numerous times.

After a few moments of silent impasse, Ray cleared his throat. “Lindsey, let’s compromise. We’ll go to the station tonight and get your statement. Then Jeff and I can pick up the investigation in the morning while you make breakfast. Will you agree to having a patrol cruiser in your lot?”

She grinned. “Sure. Cops always know the best places to eat. It’ll be good for business.”

* * *

After a trauma, many people had trouble even remembering their own names. Not Lindsey. Jeff listened as she gave her statement, amazed at her clarity of memory and succinct descriptions of the evening’s horrifying events. As for himself, he could recall less now than earlier, and he remembered little of what happened after being stunned the first time. But even struggling to stave off exhaustion and the effects of the painkillers, he replayed the incident in his own mind as she talked, deconstructing every moment, every move. What could I have done differently?

His sense of failure knifed into his chest with a pain sharper than the blow to his ribs. He’d not only fallen short as a deputy but as a man. When Ray had asked for volunteers for the nightly escort—obviously a favor for his wife—Jeff had readily stepped up. He hadn’t dated since his mother’s bout with breast cancer two years earlier, and when he’d met Lindsey at Ray and June’s wedding, Jeff had been immediately attracted by her charm, intelligence and determination to make a success of her dream to open a restaurant.

And a little intimidated by that determination as well as her aloofness...until he realized that she worked hard to keep everyone at arm’s length—not just him. Even her own sisters didn’t know her well. When they both discovered he could make her laugh, a part of the shell fell away. They’d finally become close friends, and he’d hoped it would go further, but now...he’d failed her.

Lindsey glanced at him as she finished her official description of the car and her assailant.

He nodded his agreement; what she said matched what he remembered.

Lindsey paused, her eyes narrowing as she studied him closer. “Are you all right?”

Jeff sat up straighter, rolling his shoulders back. “Sure. The painkillers are taking full effect, but I’m all right. Go on.”

Ray glanced at him, as well, then turned as Lindsey resumed her statement. For the first time, Jeff truly absorbed what had happened to her, how she’d caused the accident. Her strength astonished him. “You took an awful chance.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I learned a long time ago that getting hurt is better than dying.”

Jeff’s eyebrows arched up, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he focused on every move she made as she finished. Every eye shift, muscle twitch. She looked at the digital recorder in front of Ray, occasionally glancing up at the sheriff. Lindsey’s expressions smoothed out as she talked, and she became almost motionless.

In truth, this was the first time in the six months of their friendship that Jeff had been able to study Lindsey so closely. During their nightly rides, he mostly focused on the road as they headed from the diner to the bank, then to the small cottage Lindsey had rented. She had chosen a sweet but unadorned rental within walking distance of the restaurant. She told him the morning walk to work invigorated her, got her mind charged up for the day, but she was more than willing to let him drop her off at night.

They only spent about thirty minutes each day together, but with her schedule, it seemed to be the only time she spent with anyone outside the restaurant. At first, she’d been exhausted and silent. Getting a word out of her had been like pulling teeth. But slowly, she’d shared more of each day’s drama. He got to hear about her employees, their lives, their problems. Customer issues. Supply holdups and new recipes. His responses often made her laugh, and she’d finally softened to him. He knew she was a believer and tried to get her to come to church with him, but she insisted that since Sunday was the only day the restaurant closed, she wanted to be alone, to rest, and read. She referred to it as “keeping the Sabbath,” and it was her time of silence and solitude after six days of being “onstage.”

Lindsey’s rejection of his offer to take her to church had left a distinct but undefined pang in Jeff’s chest—which was when he realized that he was falling for her. For someone who probably wouldn’t return the emotion.

Maybe she couldn’t. That thought stuck in his mind now as he watched her blue eyes focus on some far distance, beyond the recorder, beyond the walls. Her face barely moved, as if she’d been caught up in some long-ago event. He sat straighter, realizing why her behavior seemed familiar. He’d seen it, all too often, in other women....

Clarity of detail, but almost no emotion. Jeff frowned. At the hospital, Lindsey had been animated, as if still pumped on adrenaline. Now she hugged herself and revealed no emotion, almost as if she’d done this dozens of times. Combined with her lack of response to her own injuries, as if getting tossed around and beaten up happened to her frequently, Lindsey suddenly seemed less like an accident victim and more like a battered wife.

Or the battered child she’d been.

Jeff had heard about the abusive childhood the three Presley girls—April, June and Lindsey—had endured and survived. Even though he didn’t know all the details, what he did know made him seethe with rage toward their father. He had abused them all, eventually killing both his wife and son in drunken rages. Is that what you’re remembering now? he silently asked her. Is that what makes you keep a distance from everyone?

An odd image flashed in Jeff’s mind, and he blinked hard. An image of the GTO as it had pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot and ground in a circle to face the exit again. Distance. He blinked again, tying to recall a mere glance at an image his police-trained mind had momentarily locked on.

The tag.

“Distance.”

Ray and Lindsey faced him again. “What?” Ray asked.

Jeff tapped the desk, the image in full bloom in his mind now. “He said he’d driven down from Chicago, but Illinois requires a front license plate. The GTO had a University of Tennessee plate on the front...which would certainly explain the bright orange of the car.”

Lindsey’s eyes widened, and she grabbed his forearm. “And his accent. More Tennessee than Chicago.”

Ray made a note. “So we need to check records for GTOs in Tennessee only.”

“And juvenile records, where we can. This kid’s been in trouble before. No one that age starts by kidnapping a stranger.”

Lindsey tightened her grip on his arm. “And the drugs. He was definitely hyped up on something. Drugs to make him brave and stupid enough to try something like this.”

Ray glanced up at his deputy. “And you don’t think he stole the car.”

Jeff shook his head. “I think the older guy planned this and provided the car.”

“And he’s not happy about the wreck,” Lindsey added.

Jeff stared at her. “Why do you say that?”

Lindsey shivered a bit and pulled back into herself again, crossing her arms over her stomach. “That GTO had been completely restored. You don’t just maintain a car like that. It’s been babied.” She closed her eyes. “He said the kid deserved to die for wrecking it.”

Jeff glanced once at Ray, then reached out and stroked her upper arm with the back of his hand. “You need to go home.”

After a moment, she nodded. “And to the restaurant.”

* * *

Lindsey breathed a sigh of relief to find that the Sheriff’s Department had secured the restaurant. Ray had grabbed the deposit bag at the GTO and tossed it into evidence. He’d return it after they had fingerprinted it. Once again, Lindsey said a prayer of thanks that God had led her to answer her sister’s wedding invitation, bringing her to the amazing small town of Bell’s Springs, Tennessee.

Definitely a God thing. Exhaustion consumed every muscle, and with a sigh Lindsey leaned heavily against the back door of Ray’s cruiser, looking out at the stars. She almost hadn’t answered that invitation, thinking at first it had to be a joke. Their abusive father had kicked April and June out of the house after their mother and brother had died. When he went to prison, neither April nor June were anywhere to be found. Lindsey, just ten and still carrying her detested birth name of July, had felt betrayed and abandoned. She hadn’t spoken to either of her sisters in the fifteen years that followed.

She couldn’t believe that June would contact her after all that time. But a quick search on the internet brought up more information on both sisters than she’d thought possible, including a few details about the horrors they’d survived, and how they had thrived afterwards. April had survived an abusive spouse, and the people in her new hometown had helped her start a home-based business making jams and jellies. June, who had spent years on the street, had lost her first husband and been wrongly accused of murder. Now she ran a grant-writing business and authored a popular blog, June’s Bell County Wanderings, which was an online diary of life in this small town. Curiosity had dissolved into an unexpected longing for family. Lindsey’s anger at her sisters had vanished as she’d learned how difficult their own lives had been, how they’d fought to succeed. That they were both happily married now and living in a great community emboldened her with a hope she hadn’t felt in a long time.

So Lindsey had come to Bell’s Springs to reunite with her sisters, finding, in addition, a home for her own dreams.

“Penny for your thoughts.” Beside her in the backseat, Jeff still watched her closely, his attention warming Lindsey’s spirit.

“It’s a God thing.”

Jeff’s eyebrows arched. “Say again?”

She smiled, suddenly aware of how odd her words must have sounded. “Sorry. Not—” she waved a hand between them, pointing to the bandages they both sported “—this. Tonight.” She circled her hand in the air, then rested it on his arm. “All of it. Me being in Bell County. Finding a place for the restaurant so quickly.”

Jeff looked down at her hand, his words soft as he repeated, “A God thing.”

Puzzled, Lindsey watched him a few moments, then glanced in the rearview mirror at Ray. The sheriff studied his deputy, as well, his brows forming a single line over concerned eyes.

Why would this bother him? Lindsey turned again to Jeff, who clenched one fist, even as he placed the other hand tenderly over hers. Lindsey’s breath caught a second at the gentleness of his touch in contrast to the troubled expression on his face. But no one spoke again until Ray turned into the drive of the cottage she called home. Jeff seemed to shake off whatever troubling thought had seized him as he looked up at Lindsey, a forced smile on his face. He squeezed her hand, then released it as he reached for the door.

“I’ll walk you in, make sure you’re safe.”

“Sure,” she answered. As soon as he got out, she whispered to Ray, “Is he going to be all right?”

“Physically, he’ll bounce back quickly.” Ray’s expression remained stoic.

“Mentally?”

“He has a lot to work out.”

“You ever been through anything like this?”

He nodded. “Every officer goes through it eventually. Part of the job. No one’s per—” His words broke off as Jeff opened Lindsey’s door.

Holding her crutch, he helped her out, then walked her to the narrow stoop at the front of her house. “What time will you leave for the restaurant?”

“Around four. Breakfast prep only takes an hour or so, and RuthAnn comes in at five to help.”

“RuthAnn Crenshaw?”

She nodded.

“Anyone else?”

“Not till lunch.”

“You stay all day, right?”

She shook her head. “Lunch is actually light for us. RuthAnn stays till after breakfast, around eight, then goes to her retail job in Springfield. She comes back in at five-thirty, stays till closing. Damon Schneider and his sister come in at eleven, but after lunch prep, I usually walk home and nap till three. The Schneiders stay till six, then RuthAnn and I work till we close at eight. I’m going to have to hire at least one more person soon, but for now, that’s it.”

He hesitated, a sudden wariness in his voice. “So where was RuthAnn tonight?”

Lindsey’s eyes widened as she remembered. “She got a call just before seven. Someone said her mother had fallen. She took off like a shot.”

Jeff’s eyes hardened. “Did she say who called?”

“I’m not sure she knew. Do you think that had something to do—”

“I’ll check it out.”

Weariness flooded Lindsey’s body, and she leaned heavily against the door frame. “Why is this happening?”

Jeff touched her shoulder. “Get some rest. Ray will run me home, then he’ll be out here ’til you’re ready to go. I’ll relieve him and take you to the restaurant. You shouldn’t walk.”

“You really don’t have to—”

“Lindsey.” He interrupted her, then paused and let out a slow breath. “I know I didn’t take care of you—”

Without thinking, she cupped his cheek with her free hand, stopping his words. “You did all anyone could do.” The doubt in his eyes made Lindsey ache in a way she didn’t quite understand, but she knew neither of them could deal with it now. Slowly, she eased her hand away. “I’ll see you at four.” Straightening and pulling open the screen door, Lindsey unlocked her home and reached in to turn on the light.

Then she screamed.