Justice for Boone: Badge of Honor: Texas Heroes, Book 6 (3 page)

B
oone walked
behind the deputy sheriff stiffly. The last twenty-four hours had been a nightmare. Dealing with the difficult birth of one of his most expensive heifers was just the beginning. He hadn’t lied to the officers. He’d been so exhausted when he’d come back into the house, he hadn’t bothered to lock any of his doors.

And why would he need to? He had over thirty employees who he’d hand-picked and worked with for years. Boone was never alone. He had a state-of-the-art security system and had never had any issues the entire time he’d lived in the house.

Boone had known the first morning after he’d slept with Dana that he’d made a mistake. He’d fallen for her crap, hook, line, and sinker. She’d reeled him in and he’d thought she was a nice, sweet woman who was ready to settle down and have a family. But when he’d told her he had to leave the morning after they’d made love for the first time to take care of an issue that had come up on the farm, she’d freaked out. Crying, screaming, yelling…accusing him of using her, of not liking her, of anything she could think of. Boone had only taken her to bed two more times—two times too many—and had spent the rest of their “relationship” trying to extricate himself.

Dana was bat-shit crazy, but the problem was, she didn’t show that crazy side to anyone. When they were alone, she’d hit him, yelled at him, threw things at him, and did everything she could to belittle him. Boone had ended their relationship, but for some reason, Dana wouldn’t let him go. She showed up at the farm unexpectedly. He’d see her car following him when he was out doing errands. She’d even contacted some of his clients—God knew how she’d gotten the information about them—and told them what an awful person he was.

Boone was convinced she was the person who’d anonymously contacted the SPCA of San Antonio to report animal cruelty on his farm. They’d come out to investigate and found all of the accusations against him and his ranch unfounded, but it still stuck in his craw that he’d been accused in the first place. It was the kind of uncertainty he didn’t need focused on his operation.

When they entered the front foyer of his house, Boone took a deep breath. He’d never thought Dana would stoop as low as accusing him of domestic abuse, faking her injuries, and calling the cops. As he watched the female deputy talk to her partners, it hit home that he could actually be arrested. He was exhausted and now pissed, and the last thing he wanted was to spend time in jail over something he didn’t do—and would
never
do. Boone had no idea what the deputy had been looking for on the tour of his house, or if she even believed his recounting of what had happened that morning.

Surprisingly, in the midst of everything that was going on, Boone found himself attracted to the deputy. He couldn’t really make out much of her body since she was wearing her uniform, complete with a bulletproof vest and utility belt, with all of the things that cops carried with them, but he’d always been attracted to women who were quite a bit shorter than he was…Dana notwithstanding.

The deputy was fair skinned and he thought he saw a few freckles on her face. She had no problem meeting his eyes and he thought the way she bit her lip and furrowed her brow when she was concentrating was cute. All in all, he couldn’t say exactly what it was that drew him to her like a moth drawn to a flame, but somehow he knew that she was a woman he’d like to get to know better.

At the moment, he certainly appreciated the deputy’s no-nonsense tone and the fact that she seemed to actually be listening to him, and not assuming he was a girlfriend-beating asshole, as her partners obviously did. That went a long way toward making him like her from the start. From the moment she’d stepped into his house and met his eyes, he somehow knew she was his best chance at getting out of the shit-pile Dana had piled at his door.

Her questions were certainly odd, compared to what her partners had asked; they’d stuck to the facts. But Boone really didn’t care as long as she saw through Dana’s bullshit. He knew it wasn’t likely though. The police were obligated to arrest the man if the woman showed signs of abuse.

He went back into the room he’d been in earlier, tried to tamp down his instinctive desire for the competent deputy, knowing this definitely wasn’t the time or the place, and waited for one of the cops to pull out a set of cuffs and tell him to turn around.

“Will you wait here a moment? I need to talk to my partners,” the woman he couldn’t seem to get out of his mind asked.

“Of course.” He watched as she walked to the large archway and motioned for her partners.

Hayden, Jimmy, and Troy stood between the two front rooms, making sure Dana and Boone stayed away from each other while they discussed their next steps.

“So, who wants to take Mr. Hatcher in?”

“Wait a minute, Jimmy. Boone is the victim here,” Hayden said with certainty.

“What? Like hell,” Jimmy returned. “She’s got visible bruises on her face and on her wrist. The law says we have to take him in.”

Hayden looked Jimmy in the eyes. “Do you trust me?”

“With my life,” he said without hesitation. “You’re one of the best deputies we’ve got.”

Hayden felt better at his immediate response. “Then follow my lead here. I’m right. I know I am.”

Jimmy nodded and Hayden looked at Troy. He’d tilted his head at her. When their eyes met, he spoke.

“You are one spooky chick, Hayden. I don’t know what you’ve got up your sleeve, but I haven’t known you to be wrong before. I’m in.”

“Thanks, Troy. Just keep her covered…okay?”

Jimmy and Troy nodded and they all turned back to Boone and Dana.

“Mr. Hatcher, please come with me.” Hayden motioned toward the room Dana was sitting in. Boone followed her and they all convened in the small front room.

Hayden got right to the point. She’d learned that was always much better than beating around the bush.

“Dana, you’re under arrest for false accusations of domestic abuse and trespassing.”

“What?” Dana shrieked and stood up abruptly, all images of the poor abused girlfriend cast from her as if she was a snake shedding its skin. “What kind of dyke cop are you? He
hit
me. I have bruises!”

Jimmy and Troy had come up beside Dana and each took an arm in one of their hands, so she couldn’t move.

“Okay, we’ll start there, since you brought it up.” Hayden walked over to Dana and took her hand in her own. “The bruises on your wrist are too small to have been caused by Mr. Hatcher.” She circled Dana’s wrist with her own hand. “Look, my hand fits these marks perfectly…you’re only a few inches taller than me, but our hands are about the same size, aren’t they, Dana?”

Hayden walked over to Boone. “Please hold up your hand, Mr. Hatcher.” When he did, Hayden put her own palm against his, ignoring the jolt of heat that went through her arm and down her body at the feel of his warm palm against hers. “See the size difference? There’s no way his hand made those marks.”

Hayden dropped her hand and went back to Dana, asking over her shoulder, “Mr. Hatcher, are you right or left-handed?”

“Right.”

“This mark is on the left side of your face. Mr. Hatcher is right-handed. If he backhanded you, he would’ve used his right hand and it would’ve been on the
right
side of your face.” Hayden demonstrated, pantomiming a smack to a person’s face with her right hand. “Also, if he’d backhanded you, as you claim, the mark on your face would’ve been more on your cheek than up near your eye. It also would’ve been a large red splotch, not the localized mark that you have. Ms. Chapman, I conclude that you must’ve hit yourself to try to make it look like Mr. Hatcher struck you.”

“T-t-that’s not true!
He
hit me.”

Hayden ignored Dana’s sputterings and continued, “And, Ms. Chapman, you said you’ve spent the night at this house as recently as a couple of nights ago. That’s a lie. Mr. Hatcher has stated that you have never spent the night here, and you were not invited into his home last night or this morning. There is absolutely no evidence a woman has been in Mr. Hatcher’s bedroom. There are no clothes in the closet, no feminine products in the bathroom, and no trash in the trash can that looks like it came from a woman’s preparations in getting ready in the morning. Something like a cotton ball, Q-tip, or tissue.”

“He won’t let me keep any of my stuff here. I pack it all out every time I leave.”

“Really? Even your trash? How unusual.” Hayden’s tone was deadpan. “Be that as it may, you claimed you came over this morning and had intercourse with Mr. Hatcher. You told me yourself that he used a condom. I find no evidence of this anywhere in the house.”

“He flushed it.” Dana was quick with the comebacks.

“Possible,” Hayden continued without worry. “So where’s the wrapper? It’s not in any trash can that I could find. Flushing a condom wrapper would easily clog the pipes, and it’s recommended right on the package not to flush the wrapper. And the bed, where you claim to have had sexual relations with Mr. Hatcher, is made up as if it hadn’t been slept in last night.”

Dana had nothing to say to that, her lips were now shut tight and curled up into a snarl. Hayden could see her lips turning white with the pressure she was applying to them.

“And you also claimed that you were making Mr. Hatcher’s favorite breakfast…but you don’t even know
what
his favorite breakfast is. Here’s a hint: it’s not eggs. There’s only one towel hanging up in the bathroom, which happens to be dry, when you look like you recently showered and styled your hair, and there are absolutely no pictures of you and Mr. Hatcher together anywhere in the house, as there most likely would be if you were actually dating. Ms. Chapman, it’s against the law to enter someone’s home when you aren’t invited and to make false statements to law enforcement. Not to mention accusing someone of something they didn’t do.”

Hayden turned to Boone. “Mr. Hatcher, I recommend you file a protective order against Ms. Chapman as soon as you can. And Ms. Chapman, Mr. Hatcher has told you, apparently time and time again, that he doesn’t wish to date you anymore. That’s unfortunate, but sometimes people just aren’t meant to be. I suggest you move on and find a man who is more compatible with you. No harm, no foul.”

Not surprisingly, Dana glared first at Hayden, then at Boone, who was standing behind her. “You’ll regret this!”

“Oh—and threatening others in the presence of law enforcement is ill-advised, especially when you’re already being arrested. I suggest you don’t add to your problems. Deputy Phillips, Deputy Bruton, take her to the station. I’ll be there to make a statement shortly.”

The other men nodded and Jimmy cuffed Dana’s wrists behind her back and led her out of the house. Troy lightly slugged Hayden in the shoulder as he walked by and said in a low voice, “Good goin’, Yates,” and he followed Jimmy and a silently fuming Dana out into the sunlight.

Hayden turned to Boone. “I’m very sorry this happened to you. It wasn’t right, and you shouldn’t be treated this way.”

“No, thank
you
for taking the time to really see what happened here. Those other two guys were ready to take me in,” Boone said in an obviously relieved tone.

“It’s unusual that we see a domestic violence case where the victim is male.”

Hayden could see her words took Boone aback.

“This wasn’t domestic abuse. I’m not being abused. Annoyed, yes, but not abused.”

“I know it’s not something you want to admit or think about, but men get abused in relationships all the time. They just don’t want to acknowledge it, or are embarrassed they’re in that situation. It’s not manly or macho to admit it.”

Hayden expected an immediate denial; she’d heard it every time she’d tried to convince a man that he was a victim.

Boone surprised her. “I hadn’t thought of it like that before.”

Hayden continued, seeing she was getting through to him. “Well, start. How many times has she yelled at you? Hit you? Thrown things at you? Pushed you? If you knew a woman whose boyfriend or husband was doing to
her
what Dana has been doing to you…would you tell her she’s being abused? Would you encourage her to get out? To get help?” Hayden didn’t give him a chance to say anything. “Of course you would. Why won’t you see
yourself
as being abused then?”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can,” Hayden immediately agreed. “But that kind of behavior against you can eventually tear you down. It’s not safe and it’s illegal.”

Boone was silent. Hayden sighed.

“Okay, think about it for a while. I
do
suggest you contact your attorney and get that restraining order. We both know it won’t keep her away if she’s determined to get to you, but it can help if and when she does break it. Keep your doors locked, and whatever you do, try not to be alone with her. If she’s willing to hurt herself to get you in trouble, there’s no telling what else she’ll do.”

“Good advice. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Can I ask something else?”

“Sure.”

“How’s the baby cow?”

“What?”

“The baby cow you were helping the mama cow birth this morning…how it is?”

Boone smiled at her. “She’s fine. Healthy and strong.”

“Good. Okay, I’m outta here. I have a ton of paperwork to do back at the office.”

“Thanks, Officer Yates. I really do appreciate it.”

“It’s Hayden, and you’re welcome.” Hayden didn’t know why she’d given Boone leave to use her first name. It wasn’t like her—but she liked him. He was honorable, obviously hard working, he’d loved his parents, if the pictures in his office were any indication, and she was a good judge of character.

She held out her hand for him to shake and as their hands met, she once again felt the zing of awareness. Hayden pulled her hand back quickly, uncomfortable with the odd feelings coursing through her.

“Okay, well. Be safe.”

Boone nodded at her and she turned to head back to her patrol car, convinced she’d seen the last of one Mr. Boone Hatcher.