The Lawman Returns (8 page)

He’d dropped the flashlight at the entrance. He improvised and used his phone to see the wound on her shoulder. The flashlight app lit up the cave. He just hoped no one had decided to come after them inside the cave. “Your pretty coat and sweater are done for, I’m afraid.”

She gave a half laugh, half groan. “I’m okay with losing those. I can replace them. How bad does my shoulder look?”

He poked as gently as he could. She still flinched, but he got a good look at the wound. “Actually, it doesn’t look too bad. The bullet grazed you.”

“That’s twice now he’s shot and missed.” She glanced down and tears fell from her eyes. She sniffed, blinked and looked back at him. “I’m afraid if there’s a third time, he just might succeed.”

Clay winced. “I’m not sure I’d call this one a miss.”

“I’m still alive. I’m counting it as a miss.”

“I’ll go with that.” He didn’t want to think about her dying. “I have a first-aid kit in the car. I just have to get to it.”

With her good hand, she grabbed his forearm. “No, you can’t go out there.”

He held up his cell. “I’m not getting a signal in here. We need help, and we need it fast.”

“What if he’s out there waiting? He’ll just shoot you as soon as you stick your head outside.”

A scraping sound at the entrance made him tense. Sabrina froze, but he could hear her breathing in tight, pained pants. “Stay put,” he whispered.

Clay scuttled back toward the entrance, his weapon held in front of him. Enough sunlight shone through, enabling him to see well enough to walk, to see shadows.

A figure darted in front of the entrance.

“Police! Identify yourself!”

The individual fired off another round that slammed into the cave above his head. Clay aimed and pulled the trigger.

His ears rang, and he ducked back. Heard running feet. Clay dashed out, squinting against the sun, willing his eyes to adjust fast.

By the time he could see well enough, a dark figure wearing a motorcycle helmet was roaring down the mountainside.

Clay whipped out his phone. This time the call to 911 went through.

When he finished the call, he raced back to Sabrina’s side and found her with her head against the wall of the cave, lips moving silently. “You praying?”

She looked at him. “It’s about the only thing I know to do.”

He held a hand out for her. “Help’s on the way.”

She sighed and let him help her to her feet. He gripped her good arm and she sagged against him before gaining her footing. “Sorry.”

Instead of setting her from him, he wrapped her in a hug and held her. She stiffened, then relaxed. And Clay just held her until they heard help arrive.

EIGHT

S
abrina found herself back at the hospital. Only this time she was the patient, and she wasn’t happy about it. The doctor shook her head. “It’s really just a scratch. It could be a lot worse.”

Sabrina shot her a dark look. “I’ve had a scratch before. This isn’t anything like what I remember a scratch feeling like.” She softened. “I’m sorry. I’m grumpy and scared, but I know what you mean. Thanks.”

Rachel patted her hand. “You ready for a visitor?”

“Sure.”

Thirty seconds later, Clay stepped into the room. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.” She looked at him—really looked at him—and felt her heart thump a little faster. He’d been so amazing through everything. When he’d held her in the cave, she’d immediately felt better. Comforted. Still scared out of her mind, true. But being in his arms had allowed her to hold on to her sanity. “I don’t know what I would have done without you today, Clay.”

He touched her cheek with his forefinger, then tucked his hands into his front pockets. “Well, I don’t think you would have been out in the caves if I hadn’t taken you there.”

She sighed. “Well, that’s true. Then again, who knows? This person seems determined to come after me and I have no idea what I’ve done to make someone want to kill me.”

He paced from one end of the small room to the other. “I’ve been thinking about that.”

“Do you have an answer?”

“It has to have something to do with Steven. Someone thinks you either have something or know something about his death.”

“But I don’t.”

“What if you do and you just don’t know you do?”

She blinked. “Okay. But what? How do I figure that out?”

He sat in the chair next to the bed. “Think back to your times with Steven. What did you talk about? Where did you meet? Did he give you anything?”

She leaned her head back against the pillow and stared at the ceiling. “We met once or twice a week. He was often the deputy on duty when I had to make a home visit or pick up children from abusive situations, so we became pretty good friends. We talked about a lot of things.” She gave a small smile. “Mostly books.”

“Ah, yes, my brother the bibliophile. Were you guys more than friends?” he asked, his voice soft, hesitant.

She met his gaze. “No. We both love to read. Anything and everything. Mostly mysteries or books on theology. We’d read a book and discuss it. Sometimes I’d read a book and give it to him thinking he’d enjoy it and he’d do the same for me, but romance never entered the picture. I think Steven was still grieving Misty.”

“Yeah.” Clay cleared his throat. “He was.”

“He talked about her a lot. He also talked about your parents a good bit and about your mother’s remission from breast cancer.”

“It’ll be five years in January.” He rubbed his eyes. “That was a rough time.”

“He was so stressed that he couldn’t help them more financially.”

“Financially? Why would he need to do that?”

She froze, then picked at the bedspread with her good hand. He covered it with his. “What else, Sabrina?”

“You don’t know.” It wasn’t a question and she knew she’d just put her foot in her mouth. “I assumed you did.”

“Know what?” His quiet question echoed in the room as though he’d shouted it.

Sabrina sighed. “He...ah...he mentioned the financial difficulties your parents were having and said that was one reason they wanted to take in foster kids.”

Clay jerked back and she missed the warmth of his hand. “Financial difficulties? What are you talking about?”

“You really don’t know?”

“Obviously not.”

She bit her lip. “I don’t want to gossip.”

“It’s not gossip—it’s my family.” A muscle ticked in the side of his jaw. “Tell me. Please.”

“You mother’s cancer nearly wiped them out financially. They’ve been close to losing the farm.”

Clay stood. “I knew the medical bills were bad, but I thought— Who else knows? I mean besides Steven, who can’t do anything about it now.”

She flinched at his sarcasm. “I don’t know. From what I understand, your parents didn’t want to worry you guys, but they finally broke down and told Steven so they wouldn’t lose the farm and because he had a right to know what he was going to be inheriting.”

Clay stopped and stared out the window. “Will you be all right for a little while?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll ask Ned if he has a deputy or someone who can come watch your room.”

“Where are you going?”

“To have a long-overdue talk with my parents.”

* * *

Clay got on the phone with Ned and requested a deputy stay with Sabrina. “And can you put someone on the B and B? I’ve got a personal item to take care of.”

“Everything all right, son?”

“That’s what I’m going to find out.”

Clay waited until Lance Goode arrived. He relaxed a fraction. Lance hitched his belt and finished off the soda he’d been drinking. He tossed the can in the recycle bin. “What’s up? Ned said you needed someone to watch out for Sabrina.”

“Yeah.” He told his friend everything that had happened up near the caves. “Ned called a forensics team from Nashville to come see if they could find anything. If we could find some bullet casings, at least we’d have a type of weapon. I’m pretty sure it’s a rifle.”

“You think Prescott’s the one shooting?”

“He’s my first choice. His home has been confiscated and is being cleaned up by a crew. You know Stan. Where would he go?”

Lance shook his head. “We’ve looked in all of the places we thought he might run to, but he hasn’t shown his face. No sign of the kid, either.”

“But we’re getting shot at,” Clay muttered. “Why?”

Lance sighed. “Go do your errand. I’ll take care of your lady.”

“My lady?” Clay asked.

“Isn’t she?”

Clay cocked his head, thoughtful. “Not yet.”

Lance laughed. “Soon enough, then.”

“If I can keep her alive.” They both sobered. “Thanks. I’ll text you when I’m on my way back. I think she’s staying overnight.”

“You need me to take a shift with you? Krissy’s staying with her mom this weekend. We’re forgoing the concert. Her brother called and he had something come up at work.”

Krissy, Lance’s wife, was taking turns with her brother caring for their mother, who suffered from Alzheimer’s. Still in the beginning stages of the condition, she could stay in her home but couldn’t be alone. “How’s her mom doing?”

Lance’s jaw tightened. “It’s a horrible disease. And an expensive one.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me, too. And you don’t have any idea how mad she is about missing that concert. I’ll be happy to take an extra shift.”

Clay clapped his friend’s forearm. “I’ll let you know if I need you.”

Clay left Lance parked outside of Sabrina’s door and hurried to the elevator.

Fifteen minutes later, he walked in his parents’ back door.

And did a double take.

His brother Seth sat on the couch, the remote to the television in his right hand. Encased in plaster from foot to thigh, his left leg rested on the cushions.

“What happened to you?”

“A mean ole bull and a belly roll.”

Clay cringed. A belly roll meant the bull had come completely off the ground, kicking and twisting to the side in a rolling motion. Only the best managed to stay on for the required eight seconds. And Seth was one of the best. “What distracted you?”

Seth jerked. “No one.”

“No
one?
” Now, that was an interesting comment. “Who is she?”

A darkness he’d never seen before came over Seth’s face. “Drop it. What do you want?”

Clay considered pushing the topic with his younger brother, but the look in the man’s eyes said he’d better not. “Where’s Dad?”

“Out with the horses. Someone bought Nightshade and is coming by to get him.”

“Nightshade? That’s one of Dad’s favorite horses.”

Seth frowned. “I know. Seems weird he’d sell him, but when I asked, Dad just shook his head and muttered for me not to worry about it.”

So Seth didn’t know about the financial issues. Clay wouldn’t say anything until he’d talked with his dad. “Thanks.”

“Yeah.” Seth picked up the remote and flipped the channel.

Knowing his parents were in danger of losing the home he’d grown up in made him look at the place with fresh eyes. It needed work. A fresh coat of paint, the hardwoods sanded and refinished, the furniture repaired or replaced. All of it. He hadn’t really noticed it before now. To him it was just home.

His phone rang as he walked toward the barn. Lance. “What’s up?”

“They’re releasing Sabrina.”

“What? So soon?”

“Doc says she can go. She’s signing the papers now.”

Clay stopped and thought. “She can’t go back to the B and B—she’s too accessible.”

“Well, she’s rolling out of here in about ten minutes.”

“Bring her here.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. And watch your back. The person after her doesn’t care who gets in the way.”

“I’ll be careful. See you in about thirty minutes.”

Clay hung up and found his father in the barn brushing down the horse he’d just sold. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

His father looked at him. “Tell you what, son?”

“That you’re in trouble financially.”

His father stilled. “What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“Who told you?”

“Steven. Indirectly.” He didn’t want to mention Sabrina as his source, not with tension about her so high, but he didn’t want to lie, either.

“Indirectly.”

“Yeah.” His father resumed his rhythmic brushing. Clay stroked the animal’s velvety nose. “You can’t sell Nightshade.”

“I can and I did.” His dad cleared his throat. “And I’d rather not talk about it.”

“How much money are you talking about?”

A sigh slipped from the man’s lips. He closed his eyes. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope.”

“A quarter of a million.”

Clay swallowed. “Wow.”

Silence descended for a brief moment. Then Clay snagged the pick from the bucket. He nudged the horse’s leg and started working on the hoof, digging out the packed-in dirt and other debris. “And you only told Steven. Why keep it from the rest of us?”

“Because you kids couldn’t do anything about it. No sense in worrying you.” He shrugged. “I had to let Steven know where we were financially because he wanted the ranch. He loved being a cop, but his heart was the ranch.”

“Yeah. I know.” He finished the last hoof, then put the pick down and straightened. “Fostering kids isn’t going to bring in the kind of money you need to keep this place going.”

His dad finally looked at him. A small sad smile played on his lips. “Nope, but it keeps your mom busy and gives her someone to grandmother.”

“Ah.”

“Her cancer treatments sent us into a financial mess we’ve never been able to clean up. The insurance didn’t cover much. I mortgaged the farm to the hilt, and now I’m barely making the payments. The only reason we still have the place is because Frank Banner is my best friend.”

Frank Banner, owner of Wrangler’s Corner’s one and only family-owned bank.

“I see.”

“But even Frank can’t give me infinite extensions.”

“Right.” He paused. “We found Steven’s wallet.”

His father flinched. “What?”

“Ned’s investigating. Looks like someone took it from him when he was killed. We found it in a trailer on the outskirts of town.”

“We? Who’s we? And what trailer?” His father’s voice had thickened.

“Doesn’t matter. When this is all over, Mom will have it.”

His dad sniffed. “She was going through some of his things just this morning. She has a special box, you know. One where she keeps everything he had on him at the time he died. The coroner gave them to us when we went to...ah...see him.” His dad coughed and his eyes reddened. “She keeps those along with a lot of his baby items. And his wedding ring.” Clay reached out to squeeze his father’s shoulder. “This morning she was just sitting on the bed crying, cradling each of the objects as though they were Steven himself.”

Clay’s throat tightened. Before he could think of words that might offer comfort, he heard a car pull up on the gravel drive outside the barn. He figured Lance and Sabrina had arrived. He turned back to his father and cleared his throat. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Name it.”

“Can Sabrina stay here at the house?” The silence felt thick and Clay almost wanted to squirm. He resisted. “She’s in danger, Dad. I don’t want her alone.”

“Your uncle would have a fit.”

“Uncle Abe needs to grow a heart.”

His father leveled him a steely stare. “Her mother is the reason his heart is hard as a rock. It broke in half, then froze that way.”

Clay sighed. “I know, but this is your house, your land, not his. Will you do this for me? For her?” Still his father didn’t answer, and Clay wanted to growl with frustration. “I’ve never known you not to do the right thing. Let the past stay in the past. She needs help, so help her.”

“Fine!” His father threw his hands in the air in surrender. “Fine. She can stay here, but she can’t stay at the house. Let her take your cottage. You can stay at the house. And if Abe comes by, she needs to make sure she makes herself scarce.”

“The house would be safer, Dad.”

His father’s eyes hardened. “The cottage. If she’s got danger following her, I don’t want it around your mother.”

Clay nodded. “I understand. I don’t plan to let danger get that close to her, but thanks. I’ll let her know.”

He left his father to his horses and went to meet Sabrina and Lance. She smiled when she saw him, but she couldn’t hide the confusion in her eyes. He helped her from the car. He looked at Lance. “Thanks. Anyone follow you?”

“Not that I saw.”

“What’s going on? Why did he bring me here?” Sabrina asked.

“What do you think about staying here for a while?”

She furrowed her brow. “Here? Where?”

“I originally wanted you in the house with the family. But my father said no. He’s worried Abe will come by and find you there.” He frowned. “I’ve never known my father to care what his brother thought. This is very out of character for him.” He shook his head. “But you can stay at my place. I’ll move into the house and be nearby if you need something.”