Maybe he shouldn’t have led his dad to believe they would talk later, but his conscience wouldn’t let him do anything else. Anyone going into the cath lab and possibly surgery needed every advantage, and Sam wasn’t going to be responsible for taking one away, especially since he might be the reason his dad was here. He pushed the button that opened the ICU doors, and his mother and sister stood waiting on the other side. “I told him I’d come get you.”
“Thanks, son.” His mother squeezed his arm. “And thank you for what you did.”
“Don’t,” Sam said. “I—”
“No, don’t say you didn’t do anything. It took a big man to offer him hope.”
A lump formed in his throat. “You better hurry if you want to see him before they come get him.”
He turned to where Emma stood waiting. “How did it go?”
Sam blew out a breath. “I feel like a hypocrite.” He scanned the room. “Do you see any place to get a cup of coffee?”
“Over in the corner.”
He followed her to a small eating area and waited while an older woman poured her coffee. When she turned around, Emma’s eyes widened.
“Ms. Carter, I hope nothing is seriously wrong with your family,” she said. Then she turned to Sam. “This is Trey’s aunt.”
Her hands were full, so he simply nodded. “I’m Sam Ryker.”
She returned his nod and then moved so they could pour their coffee. “TJ’s here,” the older woman said. “He fell at the assisted living place, and the nurse insisted that he get checked out.”
“I hope he’ll be okay,” Emma said.
Sam shot her a curious look. He knew for a fact she couldn’t stand the former sheriff. Maybe it was another one of those do-the-right-thing instances.
“He had a CAT scan and was transferred to ICU. They haven’t told me anything other than he’s dehydrated. I’m afraid they’ll find a brain bleed.” Her voice wavered. “But the assisted living center didn’t send anyone to help me with him, and he’s throwing one fit after another. I can’t reach Trey at his cabin—there’s absolutely no cell service out there. He’s the only one who can handle his father other than the male nurses at the facility.”
“I’m sorry,” Emma said.
Tears filled the older woman’s eyes. “My brother doesn’t want to be here, and he’s difficult on the best of days. Tonight he’s ordering me to get him out of here, and then he tried to pull out his IV. They’ve tied his arms to the bed, and that’s made him even worse.”
Emma patted her shoulder. “Do you think it would help if Sam talked to him?”
She turned and stared at Sam. “Would you? He seems to respond better to men, plus you have on a uniform. He may respect that.”
Sam took a step back. “I-I’m not sure what I can do . . .”
“Just tell him you know Trey, and that he sent word for him to behave.”
How did he get himself into things like this . . . Emma. She was the one who volunteered him. He turned to her, and she was encouraging him with her eyes.
“I think you should talk to him,” Emma said.
Finally he got it. This would be a chance to talk to the former sheriff. “Will they let me in to see him?”
“They should—it’s still visiting time.”
“What room?”
“The third one on the right after you go through the doors.”
Once again, Sam walked through the ICU doors, this time pausing outside Carter’s room. He wasn’t certain how to question an Alzheimer’s patient. He rapped on the door and didn’t wait for an invitation to enter. A nurse stood by the bed, hanging a bag on the IV pole while she ignored the man’s string of curses. She looked around.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“The sheriff’s sister sent me in here to talk to him.”
“Are you his son, Trey?”
Sam shook his head. “A friend of Trey’s.” He stepped closer to the bed. The former sheriff had stopped his cursing and regarded Sam with wary eyes.
“Do I know you?” Carter growled.
“I’m Sam Ryker, the Natchez Trace chief law enforcement ranger,” he said, using his I’m-in-charge-here voice.
Immediately the sheriff’s demeanor changed. “How can I help you, officer?”
“I have a case I’d like your advice on,” he said, “if the nurse will allow it.”
“Whatever it takes to calm him down,” she said, palming her hand as she walked to the door. “I’ll be nearby if you need me.”
“Just a minute,” Carter said. “Untie my hands. I can’t discuss a case all trussed up like this.”
She wavered, and he let loose another string of words that burned Sam’s ears. “How about I untie the one with the IV? And only if you promise not to pull it out.”
Once he promised, she removed the restraint and then left them alone. Sam pulled up a chair near the bed and sat down, hoping to convey to Carter the impression they were equals. Carter tried to pull himself up. “Hold on, and I’ll raise your bed,” Sam said.
“Thank you,” he said when Sam had elevated him to a sitting position. “Now, this case you need help with, does it tie in to any of my recent cases?”
Carter thought he was still the sheriff. Maybe Sam could use that to his advantage. “No, it’s an older case. But first, you have to promise to quit giving these nurses and your sister a fit. That’s what Trey would tell you if he was here.”
“Where is that pup? He ain’t been worth a dime since his ma died.” Carter narrowed his eyes. “He had no business letting them bring me here. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with me.”
“You’re dehydrated. As soon as they get fluids in you, you’ll go home.”
He tried to cross his arms, but the restraint on his right hand stopped him. “Well, why in tarnation didn’t they tell me that?”
“That I can’t say, but if you want to go home, do what they say and quit giving them trouble.”
“Tell me about the case.”
“It involves Ryan Winters and Mary Jo Selby.”
The heart monitor briefly went crazy, then after an initial flurry of beats, it returned to its steady rhythm. “What about it?”
“Why is there no file on the case?”
Carter seemed to assess Sam. “You say you’re a friend of Trey’s?”
“I am. I was at the Hideaway with your son and Ryan Winters.”
“Gordy was with you too.”
Sam nodded. He didn’t know how bad Carter’s Alzheimer’s was, but tonight his mind was clear. He hoped it held. “What do you know about that night?”
Carter didn’t answer right away; instead he felt his pocket and cursed. “They took my cigarettes.”
He gave the older man a minute, and when he didn’t say anything, Sam asked, “What happened to the file on the Selby murder?”
“Should be there . . . unless Trey moved it. He’s my chief deputy, you know.”
“Yeah.” He leaned forward, encouraging the former sheriff to continue.
Carter took a deep breath. “He didn’t murder that girl.”
Interesting way of answering, considering Sam hadn’t asked if Trey had killed Mary Jo. “How about Ryan?”
“Him either.”
“But Trey knows something about what happened?”
The former sheriff’s eyes turned cagey. “I told my boy to keep his nose clean. I had an election that year and that girl’s death cost me votes. If word had gotten out—”
Abruptly the monitor went crazy again with beeps and a buzzer sounding. Carter’s face turned white, and he pressed his hand against his chest. The door flew open, and the nurse charged in. She motioned toward the door. “You’re out of here.”
Sam didn’t move. He was so close to getting his answer.
She fisted her hands on her hips. “Now!”
He shot Carter a look of frustration. “Yes, ma’am. Can I come back when—”
“Absolutely not. You upset him, and I’m not
allowing that to happen again.”
60
While Sam was back with Sheriff Carter, Emma checked on George Selby and his daughter. There’d been no change—both were extremely critical. Her heart heavy, she walked to the magazine rack and looked for something to read. Their area of the waiting room had pretty well cleared out. Ms. Carter was in a corner recliner, and Rachel had gone to the restroom, leaving Emma and Jenny. Sam’s sister paced near the phone as she waited for news from the doctor.
Emma looked up as Jenny stopped in front of her. “Where’d you say Sam went?”
“Sheriff Carter’s sister asked him to try to calm her brother down.” Emma tensed at the anger in Jenny’s voice. “What do you have against me?”
Jenny stared at her. “You have to ask? You’re leading my brother on.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re going to break his heart again, just like ten years ago.”
Jenny’s words stung. “No. I—”
“Yes, you will. I’ve watched you do it with every man you date. You date them a while, then you find something wrong with them and break it off.”
Emma stiffened as heat blazed in her face. “I do not.”
Jenny rattled off the names of four men, including Trey, that Emma had dated. “You’re telling me you didn’t lead them on and then drop them when you got bored?”
“Those relationships just didn’t work out,” Emma protested. “It’s different with your brother. I . . . I really care for him.”
“You won’t feel that way when you know the whole truth about that night. And then you’ll break his heart all over again.”
Lead settled in Emma’s stomach. “What are you talking about?”
“Sam hasn’t told you everything. He’d already left your brother at the Hideaway when I called him for help.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just what I said—I know he told you he left Ryan to come help me, but Sam had left the Hideaway half an hour before I called him that night.”
The words hit Emma like a shotgun blast.
“Jenny!” Sam strode toward them. “This is not your concern.”
“It will be when she dumps you. I don’t want to see you hurt again.”
Emma turned to Sam. “You said you left to help her with a flat tire . . .” His face had turned as pale as the white wall behind him. “That’s not true?”
“I did go help her, but . . .” His shoulders dropped, and he wouldn’t meet her eyes. He sucked in a breath and expelled it. “Ryan and I had an argument in the parking lot. He swung and hit me in the jaw. I shoved him, he fell down, and then I walked away and got in my car. I was almost home when Jenny called. Then after Ryan went missing, you somehow got the idea I left because Jenny called, and I let you believe it. Not that we talked much after that.”
The bottom fell out of her stomach, and she stumbled to a chair. All this time he’d let her believe a lie. “Why didn’t you tell me before now?”
“I’ve tried,” he said.
“Well, you didn’t try hard enough.” She backed away from him. “I’m leaving.”
“You can’t,” he said. “You don’t have transportation.”
“I’ll call an Uber.” She turned and almost bumped into Sam’s mom.
Rachel grabbed Emma to steady herself. “I heard what Jenny said. Don’t leave.”
She tried to break free. “I can’t stay.”
The hospital phone rang, and they all froze. Jenny snatched the receiver up and listened. “This is the Ryker family.”
As she listened again, the air seemed to go out of her and she sank into the chair beside the phone. “Thank you,” she said and looked up, her eyes shiny. “They were able to stent the blockage. The doctor will be out to talk to us shortly.”
Emma was glad for them, but she had to get out of there. “I have to go.”
“Please don’t leave,” Sam said. “You ran away ten years ago. Don’t do it again.”
She took a step back. Running was what she did best.
His chin jutted and he rested his hand on his gun. “I’ll put you in protective custody if I have to.”
“You wouldn’t!”
Determination radiated off Sam like heat. “Someone tried to kill Mr. Selby and his daughter just this afternoon because of Mary Jo and Ryan’s case. Any judge in Natchez will give me a protective order.” His eyes pleaded with her to stay. “Your apartment is much more comfortable than the jail, and if you’ll wait, I’ll take you home in a few minutes.”
There was no doubt in her mind that if she tried to leave, Sam would do what he threatened. The fight went out of her and she huffed a breath. “I’ll stay, but I’m not talking to you.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, Emma marched to another section of the waiting room and plopped into a vinyl chair. Once again, she felt like she’d been sucker punched, and nothing Sam said would change what he’d done. She grabbed a magazine and thumbed through it, not really seeing the pictures or articles.
“You ready?” Sam asked.
She hadn’t seen him approach and just about jumped out of her skin. “Yes,” she said stiffly.
Neither of them spoke on the elevator ride to the first floor. When the doors opened, she started out and Sam told her to hold the door open and wait. Once he’d checked out the lobby, he motioned her off. “Walk close to me,” he said.
Either the words or the seriousness in his voice penetrated her wall of anger, and suddenly the distance to his SUV in the darkened parking lot seemed like a hundred miles. She swallowed hard and didn’t pull away when he used his hand to guide her. Within minutes they pulled into the parking area behind Emma’s apartment.
“I think this is the safest way in and out,” he said.
She’d been surprised Sam hadn’t tried to defend himself on the way home. “You’re probably right.”
He cleared his throat. “Thanks for making me go to the hospital tonight.”
That was the last thing she’d expected him to say. “You’re welcome, but I think you would have come to that decision without me.”
“Maybe,” he said. “Sit tight until I can come around.”
Silly her, thinking he would just let her get out and walk up to the apartment by herself. “Sure.”
He hovered close as they climbed the steps and she unlocked the back door. Once inside, he moved quickly through each room while she waited in the living room.
“All clear,” he said when he finished.
“Thank you.” She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, staring at the floor instead.
“Do you have any coffee?”
She jerked her head up. “You’re not leaving?”
“No. A good friend advised me earlier tonight not to let you cut and run, so we need to talk.”
Had to have been Brooke. Emma walked to the kitchen on wooden legs to make a pot of coffee. “Decaf?”
“Leaded if you don’t mind.”
She waited while the coffee brewed, then took a cup to him on the sofa before returning for her own. She waited for him to speak, but the silence grew until she couldn’t stand it. “Did you learn anything from Sheriff Carter?”
“Not a lot.” He related what the former sheriff had said. “And then something happened to his heart, and the nurse ran me off.”
Emma processed the information Sam had shared. “Do you think Trey could have killed Mary Jo and Ryan?”
“I don’t know. I want to question him, but it’ll be after I question the detectives. Are you going with me?”
She hadn’t thought that far ahead. It would mean spending at least four hours alone with Sam . . .
“I shouldn’t have let you believe a lie about what happened with Ryan at the Hideaway. I wanted to tell you the truth a long time ago, but I truly was going to tell you tonight.”
It was easy enough to say that. “Why tonight?”
“You’re not going to believe this, but I decided to tell
you when I was talking to my father.”
“What do you mean?”
“I realized if I couldn’t forgive him, then I couldn’t expect you to forgive me if I told you the truth. And I knew then I couldn’t go another day without telling you the truth.”
“You’ve forgiven your father?”
Sam nodded. “I’m still angry, but I don’t hate him any longer. Do I want to hang out with him? No, but a very wise person once told me if I do the right thing even when I don’t feel like it, the feelings will follow.”
Now he was using her own words against her. But not really. “Even if I forgive you, it doesn’t mean I’ll want to hang out with you.”
“I’ll take that.” A grin pulled at his lips. “But unless you want to hire a bodyguard, you’ll be stuck with me until this case is over.” Then he took a sip of his coffee. “And you do make good coffee, but I need to leave—we should be on the road by seven thirty in the morning.”
When he walked to the front door, she said, “Did you forget which way we came in?”
“No. I want to walk the perimeter before I leave. Be sure and deadbolt the door behind me.”
She followed him, but before she could close her door, the one at the end apartment opened, and Gordon Cole stepped into the hallway, followed by her neighbor, Taylor. He kissed her soundly and then turned around to leave. His eyes widened. “You two startled me,” he said. “I didn’t know anyone was within five miles of here.”
That was obvious, and Emma hid a smile. Dr. Gordon Cole was totally smitten with her neighbor.
“Do you have a minute?” Sam asked. “I have a couple of questions I’d like to run by you.”
Gordon frowned and checked his watch. “I can give you a few minutes. What kind of questions are you talking about?”
“I’d rather not say out here in the hall. Can you stop by Emma’s a second?”
The doctor glanced back at Taylor and nodded. “See you tomorrow at eight?”
“Yes,” Taylor said, “and be on time.”
Emma followed the two men inside her apartment. She had no idea what Sam wanted to talk to Gordon about.
Gordon’s smile faded. “What’s this all about?”
“I was talking to Sheriff Carter tonight,” Sam said, “and he made a remark that left me with more questions than answers.”
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