Close To The Heart (Westen Series Book 5)

by Suzanne Ferrell

  “Size doesn’t matter in baseball. Some hall of famers are only five-foot six inches tall. As a teen though, the last thing he wants to do is stand out in a bad way. I can understand that.” He reached in his coat and brought out some papers, folded lengthwise. “Since you’re technically their guardian while they live here, you’ll need to fill these out and sign them. Also, if Doc Clint didn’t give them a physical when they arrived here, they’ll need one to participate. State regulations.”

  She took the papers and added them to the pile in her arm. “It’s protocol that every resident get a physical within the first forty-eight hours of arrival here. We need to know if there’s a history of abuse, either self-induced or from someone else. I can get the doctor to sign off on those for my boys.”

  “Good. Any other questions?”

  “The boys had a few.”

  “Shoot,” he said with a smile.

  Remembering her recent conversation with Geoff, she decided to start there. “Some of my guys have arrest records. No felonies, nothing violent. Conditions of being part of the program here. Will that cause them to be excluded?”

  Once again, Daniel shifted his weight, his hand in one jacket pocket as he considered her question. It was so odd to her that he sincerely thought about what she said, seemed to give her opinion high merit. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone, especially a man, had done that for her.

  “This house, Westen House, is supposed to be a place where teens have a second chance,” he said. “Whether it’s from poor home life, family addictions, poor school achievement or brushes with the law; they still deserve to try new things. Being part of a team may be one of those new things. As long as Gage, as sheriff and the head of law enforcement in this town, doesn’t have any issues with any of the boys, I don’t see why they can’t try out for the team.” He paused and tilted his head slightly her way, his blue eyes full of concern. “Of course, that will mean they have no further arrests.”

  She nodded. “Of course. They know they’re walking a fine line on that to just keep living here.”

  “Good. Anything else?”

  “They were wondering about equipment. None of them have gloves or shoes.”

  His brows lifted in surprise. “I never thought about that. When I was a kid, everyone had a glove and shoes. The past two years when I’ve been a coach, it wasn’t an issue for the kids.”

  “I know, but these kids aren’t from usual homes or backgrounds.”

  “The school provides uniforms, bats, balls. I’ll check with Gage and the board to see if we can gear up your boys,” he said with a nod.

  “All of them have part-time jobs,” she said, continuing with Geoff’s concerns. “It’s one more hard-fast requirement of the program. Geoff, in particular, wanted to know if playing on the team and practices will interfere with their jobs.”

  He weighed her question before answering. “Geoff and Colt work with Joe over at the Knobs & Knockers, right?”

  It was her turn to be surprised. She hadn’t known he’d kept tabs on who the boys were, let alone where they were employed. But then, again, it was a small town and as a deputy sheriff he did have to know what went on, in and around Westen.

  “Yes, they do. Bryan works at the Yeast and West Bakery doing deliveries and general cleaning. Trent helps at the Author’s Attic bookstore.”

  He pulled out his phone, pushed some buttons and then typed in something with one finger. He looked up and caught her watching him. “I found this ap that lets me make notes, so I don’t forget stuff. Part of getting older, I guess. Need to write stuff down.”

  She nodded in understanding. “I do too. Especially now that I have so many other people to schedule for things.”

  “I’ll check with Gage how he and Deke Reynolds handled practice and work schedules for Kyle and some of the others during football season. I’ll stop by and talk with Joe and the other bosses. I’m sure we can make some arrangements if the guys make the team.”

  “When will tryouts be?” she asked.

  “Next Friday and Saturday. If the weather holds—and I’m hoping it does since it’s the beginning of March—it’ll be outdoors. Otherwise we’ll do most of it indoors, with batting in the local batting cages near the park. Here’s praying it doesn’t snow again.”

  “Oh, I hope not. We’ve had enough white stuff for two winters this year.”

  “I agree. Well, I should get going.” He moved towards the door. “I have first shift this week.”

  She followed him, holding the door as he stepped out on the porch. “I have a meeting with the psychologist and Lexie tomorrow morning. Then Chloe Roberts in the afternoon.”

  “I heard she was Lexie’s legal advocate. Prepping for court next week?” he asked.

  “Yes. It’s silly to be this nervous about taking Lexie to a lawyer’s office or the court case.”

  He laid his hand on hers, warmth spreading over her arm from his touch. “Don’t be. Chloe’s a good lawyer. She’ll be gentle with both of you.”

  “Oh, I know. I’ve seen her with Bobby and others around town the past few weeks. I just don’t want to mess anything up for Lexie.”

  “You won’t. You’ll be great. Anyone can see how good you’ve already been for Lexie.”

  His words warmed her as much as his touch had. Slowly, she pulled her hand away. The last thing she wanted was to appear needy or clingy. She’d promised herself she’d never be that way with a man again. “Thank you.”

  He looked a little disappointed she’d broken off contact but gave her a nod. “Night then.”

  “Goodnight, deputy,” she said and closed the door, reminding her heart and brain that she couldn’t afford to get attached to a man again—not even one as nice and considerate as Daniel.

  6

  The lab reports on the substance found at Rose’s place came back this morning.” Gage laid a paper on his desk as he addressed the team in the office. “Heroin.”

  “Shit,” Wes muttered. “We’re still cleaning up the mess from the meth lab explosion and now we have to deal with this crap?”

  Daniel, thinking the same thing, leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin. “Could this just be Rose crashing with her drugs here, but purchasing them somewhere else?”

  “We can hope,” Bobby said from her desk. “But we’d be naïve if we believe we’re the only place in Ohio this stuff hasn’t infiltrated. It’s like mold.”

  Wes sputtered. “Mold?”

  Bobby leaned up on her elbows on her desk, her intense gaze pinning Wes to the spot. “Yes, mold. You know that black stuff that starts out in one little corner of your shower, and if you don’t clean it right away, it creeps into the grout, filling in all the nooks and crannies, until it’s growing like a choking vine up the wall. Mold.”

  Wes held up his hands in surrender. “Whoa. Okay, I get it. Heroin is like mold.”

  “And if you don’t control it, it can kill you or those you love,” she said, with a pointed look at Gage.

  “Give it a rest, darlin. I said I’d clean it up tonight when we get home,” their boss said.

  “I wanted to do it myself yesterday.” Her voice went slightly pouty, which was rare for her.

  “And I told you I’d feel better doing it myself and you not dealing with either the mold or the chemicals right now,” her husband said, glancing down at her lower section.

  “You do know how ridiculous this is? I planned to wear a mask and gloves.”

  “And I will, too.”

  “You can’t keep treating me as if I’m made of glass, Sheriff. Being pregnant doesn’t make me incompetent.” Bobby thrust herself out of her chair and stalked around her desk.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Gage asked, standing and rounding his desk to meet her halfway.

  “It means that you’ve had me chained to the office ever since we got back from our honeymoon. I didn’t become a deputy to simply act as a secretary and dispatcher.”

  Before the
interesting argument escalated further, the main office door opened. Everyone turned to see Deke Reynolds and several of his firefighters step inside.

  Deke stopped and studied Gage and Bobby. “Am I interrupting something?”

  “No,” Gage said with one brow arched.

  “Yes,” Bobby countered, turning a glare back at her husband.

  “Good.” Deke grinned and moved between the pair, signaling the men and woman with him to follow. “Aisha Bridges and Chris Hoskins, two of our paramedics. You know Colin Turnbill and Jeremy Ward, two of my firefighters.”

  Gage and Bobby shook hands with the newcomers before retreating to their desks as the fire team took up spots around the room.

  Daniel looked at Wes who gave a slight shrug. Whatever reason they’d been invaded, Wes was clueless, too.

  “Cleetus, grab some chairs out of the backroom for our guests,” Gage said. “Clint should be here in a few minutes and we’ll get started.”

  Daniel went to help Cleetus get the chairs. “Do you know what’s going on?” he asked.

  Cleetus shrugged. “Heard Gage tell Deke it was going to be a team effort. Thought he was talking about the football team, but practices won’t start again until summer. Something about the baseball team?”

  Daniel shook his head as he grabbed three metal chairs. “Nope. Andre Danner’s helping out as hitting coach. Gage and Deke weren’t baseball players.”

  “Then I don’t have any idea,” Cleetus picked up three more chairs and carried them past.

  Daniel followed in his wake, still wondering what the big meeting was about. Had to be something to do with Rose Cochran and the heroin.

  Just as they had everyone seated, Doc Clint came in the door carrying a cardboard box.

  “Sorry, I’m a little late. Had to wait for Harriett to get to the clinic to get this stuff from where she’d stored it,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve learned not to enter her supply closet without permission. Put one thing out of place and you’re likely to end up dead.”

  Everyone chuckled, but they all understood his frustration. Harriett, his office nurse, scared most people. Silent as a ninja, part mind-reader, always two steps ahead of everyone, rumors for years circulated that she once worked for the CIA. When she gave instructions to a patient they were obeyed to the tee without question. No one, not Clint or his uncle, the former town doctor, wanted to cross her.

  “What’s in the box?” Wes asked.

  “We’ll get to that,” Gage said, taking charge. “Have a seat, Doc. I’ll let you talk in a minute, since you probably have patients back at the clinic.”

  Clint checked his phone. “I’m pretty good for the morning. Harriett rescheduled everything for the afternoon, and she has my number if she and Emma need me for any emergency.”

  “Great. The reason I’ve asked Deke and his men, as well as the doc, to join us is we’ve now got our first documented case of heroin use in the county.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “We’ve been so focused on checking the meth infestation, this crap’s come right in under our noses. There hasn’t been any reported overdoses of heroin or prescription opioids in the past year, but with all the new people coming to live here, it’s just a matter of time before we start seeing them. Statistics have a rise of both in the state, along with fentanyl and carfentanyl. That’s some nasty shit. Saw some of it when I was undercover back in Columbus.”

  “Cartels from Mexico have been shipping both into the Midwest for some time,” Wes said. “Heard from a friend in the DEA that their shipping it right up the Mississippi to the Ohio river and their gangs are spreading it out—”

  “Like mold,” Bobby said.

  Everyone gave a nervous laugh. They all knew heroin and fentanyl usage was a very serious situation, but dark humor deflected some of the anxiety they all felt now that their town was in the cross-hairs of this epidemic.

  “Like mold,” Gage agreed. “It seems to be taking hold in rural areas now as much as the big cities. People addicted to prescription opioids are actually finding heroin a cheaper, stronger high. Fentanyl is even more addictive and dangerous.”

  “As the only medical clinic in the area, my uncle Ray and Harriett kept a close monitor on prescriptions for opioids over the years.” Doc Clint spoke up. “I’m following that protocol. We give reduced number of pills and encourage our patients to get off them within the first twenty-four hours after surgery or an injury. Ray and I both believe that the stronger meds are only good for the first twenty-four hours. After that anti-inflammatories should do the trick.”

  “Are you seeing people coming in for more refills?” Aisha asked.

  Clint, his lips pressed gravely together, gave a nod. “What I’m seeing is some of the newer residents who have been to see their doctors in Columbus and were given thirty-pill scripts—pretty much the standard of practice most places, as opposed to the seven-to-ten I give—coming in for more. I write for a refill for half as many, which they’re not happy about. If they come in a third time, I start talking with them about their need for the meds and possible addiction.”

  “Bet that goes over well,” Wes said.

  “Not usually. But I refuse to give them a new prescription, so they are forced to go elsewhere. Either back to their old doctor or find a new one somewhere else.”

  “Or buy it on the streets,” Gage said.

  “And that leads them down the slippery slope to heroin,” Deke added.

  “Have you had any overdose deaths?” Clint asked the fire chief.

  Deke looked to his two paramedics. They both shook their heads.

  “Not even close calls,” Aisha said. “When Chief asked us to come today, the first thing Chris, Carlos, and I did was go through our records to determine if there was a pattern. The pattern was, there were no calls for opioid overdoses.”

  “Before the meth lab blew up, we had some calls for tweekers getting injured, but no overdoses there, either,” Chris added. “Y’all have done a great job cleaning that mess out of the area, so those calls have gone down significantly.”

  “Yeah, blowing up the major supplier’s lab and stash house had a great deal to do with that,” Gage said.

  Most of the room chuckled at Gage’s dark humor about the explosion that trapped him below ground and almost took his life. Daniel did a quick glance at Bobby, who always got quiet when that incident was mentioned. She was staring off into space, and he was sure she was doing her deep breathing exercises. Gage had told him after she came onboard as a deputy that she didn’t like confined spaces. The fact she’d braved one to save her future husband that day spoke volumes to the strength she had and her love for the boss.

  “Dan, you got that map of the county ready for us?” Gage said, drawing his attention back to the meeting.

  “Locked and loaded,” he said. With a press of the remote, the county map popped up on the large flat screen the county had splurged on for their department. “Since our last big drug ring operated out of what we believed was an abandoned farm last year, we’ve been marking all the real estate in the area either as abandoned or occupied.” He clicked another button and up popped red or blue x’s scattered around the county. There were three times as many red than blue. One was marked in yellow. “All the spots marked in blue have already been checked by someone from this office as clear. The red ones are all the places we still have to visit.”

  “What’s the yellow one?” Hoskins asked.

  “That’s our one positive sighting of heroin,” Gage said. “The old Thurber place where our known user, Rose Cochran, was living.”

  “The woman who abandoned her little girl during the blizzard?” Aisha asked.

  Bobby nodded. “One and the same. There’s been no sign of the woman since.”

  “Well, that’s a good thing, isn’t it? At least no one’s found her dead somewhere.”

  “Not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad one,” Daniel said, not feeling the least big guilty over his opinion. Wes and Cleet
us nodded their agreement, while the firefighters exchanged looks. Too damn bad if they didn’t like what he’d said. The woman left a sweet little girl to die in a blizzard while she went looking for a fix.

  “So, let’s get to Doc Clint’s part of the presentation so he can get back to the clinic,” Gage said, turning to look at his cousin-in-law.

  Clint stood in front of the group. “A quick history of opioids. Opium has been in use for centuries, dating back to the Egyptians. In the early 1800’s Morphine was extracted from opium and used as a pain reliever, but it’s addiction properties became apparent. In the 1870’s heroin was made from morphine, in a hope that it wouldn’t have the addiction problem.

  “That didn’t work much, did it?” Colin said.

  Clint nodded his head in agreement. “No. It’s become clear that the opioid properties, no matter the derivative is addictive and needs to be closely monitored.”

  “And yet modern medicine and the pharmaceutical companies keep trying new ways to profit from it.” Daniel couldn’t keep his frustration from seeping into his voice.

  “We use it, Dan, because it does have pain relief properties, when used correctly,” Clint said, then paused before continuing. “Prior to the recent epidemic, there have been two others, one right after WWII and one in the seventies. The lack of purity and the expense of the drug eventually caused a decrease in use.”

  “With the crack down on prescriptions for Oxycontin, the market for heroin has opened up again,” Wes said.

  “And the drug cartels are finding a huge market of people already addicted to opioids ready to buy their heroin,” Cleetus concluded.

  “Right,” Clint said. “The problem is, we’re seeing purer heroin, which is more addictive and more dangerous, combined with the new synthetic fentanyl drugs, overdoses are killing more and more users.”

  “What symptoms are we looking for?” Bobby asked.

  “The biggest danger is respiratory depression,” Aisha said. “We used naloxone to treat it when we’d come across overdoses in Cincinnati.”