They watched a video of each technique and Bryan wrote down the URL’s so they could watch them on their iPads later.
“I ain’t gonna try to learn in front of those guys at school. They already razz me for being short.”
“Yeah, but you’re fast,” Trent said.
“Yeah, you can beat all of us in a race,” Bryan said, patting him on the shoulder. “That’s important after you hit the ball, or if you’re trying to catch one. Quick is good.”
“And we can practice out front here after school if Miss Davis doesn’t mind driving us to the tryouts,” Geoff suggested with a glance at Melissa.
“Of course,” she quickly answered.
Daniel gave them all a nod to their plan. “And like I told you earlier today, Colt, lots of players have been under six feet, you don’t have to be super tall to play baseball. Hard work and good skills can make you just as good as anyone else.”
“I guess I can give it a try then,” Colt said, looking a little more confident.
“Good. Then off to bed with you guys,” Melissa scooted her chair back and grabbed Daniel’s plate. “You have a lot to do tomorrow and no one succeeds in anything without rest.”
“Yes, ma’am,” they said in unison as if they’d heard her say that all the time, which Daniel suspected they did. They thanked him again for the sports equipment as they gathered them up and head up the stairs, Bryan taking his Geometry work with him to “finish before bed”.
“I should be going, too,” Daniel said, stepping towards the door.
“Can you wait a moment?” Melissa laid her hand on his arm to stop him, worry heavy in her usually soft brown eyes.
“Sure. What’s up?” She removed her hand and he had the urge to grab it, hold tight and reassure her that whatever was wrong, he’d handle it.
“Chloe Roberts came by. She’s Lexie’s legal advocate.”
“I remember hearing that,” he said, turning to face her. “Did something happen?”
“It was a good visit. I’m not sure whether Chloe can pass on information she hears from Lexie to the sheriff, since she’s her lawyer.”
“I’m not sure either. Ethically, I’d assume the whole client confidentiality thing applies to Lexie, unless it was something that would endanger her. Why?”
“We were seated at the table, Lexie was drawing. While they were talking Lexie mentioned her mother had a boyfriend. She said he brought her mother “medicine”.”
“Probably her dealer bringing her drugs.”
“That’s what Chloe and I both thought. Lexie sounded like she didn’t like him. She also sounded a bit frightened of him.”
Anger that someone would make the little girl afraid inched over him. “Did she give you a name?”
“Just Gary.”
“No last name? No description of him?”
Melissa shook her head. “No. I got the impression that Chloe didn’t want to press her for more information this first time they talked.”
“I understand. She’s just getting her footing here. We all want to help make her safe, not feel like she’s being interrogated. I’ll let Gage know and we’ll see if we can find anyone named Gary who’s a known felon or drug dealer in the State databases.” He smiled and patted her on the arm, happy when she didn’t flinch or move away. “If she tells you anything more, just in casual conversation, let me know. Every little bit helps.”
“I will. But I don’t know how long she’ll be here. The court hearing is Monday.”
“I know. I’ll be there.”
“You will?”
“I’m the one who found her. That makes me the first one to testify in her behalf with the judge.”
“Oh, I see.”
A quiet settled between them. Then someone dropped something on the floor above them, breaking the spell.
“I’d better go,” he said, reaching for the doorknob.
“I should go check on Lexie,” Melissa said at the same time.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” When she looked puzzled, he clarified. “At the tryouts.”
“I can stay and watch?” She sounded surprised at the idea.
“Sure, lots of the parents do.”
“I’m not their parent.”
“You feed them, house them, listen to them, encourage them and keep them safe. You’re as close to a parent as any of them, including Lexie have right now.” He opened the door and paused on the threshold. “If you stay and watch, it will mean a lot to them. Trust me.”
“I will, then.”
Her cheeks turned a little pink and Daniel had the urge to lean in and sample the softness of her pink lips. But he knew her history and the last thing he wanted to do was force her into anything she might not want, including a kiss, so he stepped out on the porch and waited in the chilly almost spring air until he heard the deadbolt slide into place. He liked knowing all the residents of Westen House were secure for another night. It was his responsibility to see they stayed safe.
Five minutes before the Wagon Wheel Saloon closed for the night, Gage and Deke walked in the door. They’d planned to make their entrance when there would be few customers and they’d have time to talk to Hank Turbin. He had a deft hand with the drinks, and the patient ear psychologists would envy. Hank wasn’t a big man. Average height, average weight, usually average temperament—unless you were causing a problem, then he’d show off the boxing skills he’d learned in high school.
And Gage was about to cause him a very big problem.
“Hey, Sheriff, Chief,” Hank said as he mopped down the vacant end of the bar. On the other end sat two regulars, Harv and Mac. Both in their eighties, the pair usually closed the place, the last to leave, getting a ride home with one of their kids, each son took a turn getting his father and buddy home. “Made final call half an hour ago, but I could manage you a drink.”
The door opened behind them and twenty-something Roy MacGregor stepped inside. “Taxi’s here, Pops,” he said to his grandfather, with a nod at Hank. “They all paid up?”
“I always pay my tab,” Mac said, sliding off his stool and helping Harv off his. “No need to check with the barkeep like I’m some wet-behind-the-ears kid like you.”
Roy grinned at Gage, Deke and Hank, as he held the door open for the two older men. “Yes, sir. I was just checking if I needed to come inside while you took care of it.”
“Well, you don’t,” his grandfather grumbled. “Now let’s get ol’ Harv here home before his girl sends someone else to get us and it looks like a damn parade.
“Don’t want the sheriff over there to arrest us all for disturbin’ the peace,” Harv added.
“Yes, sir,” Roy said, mouthing a silent thanks to Hank before following the elderly pair outside.
The trio inside waited for the door to close before laughing.
“I bet those two were a handful back in the day,” Hank said.
Gage nodded. “I remember Dad telling me about them getting into a fight with a group of bikers when we first came to town. Said old Doc Ray had to stich up those boys like putting back together a stuffed animal.”
“Harv and Mac?” Deke asked.
Gage grinned. “Nope, the bikers. Harv and Mac had to spend the night in jail. Begged to in fact.”
“Why?” Hank asked leaning over the bar with interest.
“Said they’d be getting a beating from their wives worse than those bikers tried to give them if they came home drunk.”
All three laughed.
“I’m pretty sure you didn’t come in here to check on Harv and Mac,” Hank said, growing sober. “What’s up?”
“Why don’t you grab three beers and meet us at a table?” Gage said.
“I’ll get the door,” Deke offered. He locked the deadbolt and turned the open sign to closed before meeting Gage and Hank at a four-top table.
Hank took a long drink from his bottle of lager. “Okay, I’m thinking whatever this is, it isn’t good. I talked to my sister and everything i
s okay with her and my kids.”
Gage toyed with the bottle of beer in front of him. Damn he hated this part of his job. His father’s words filled his ears. No real way to make it easier on the family. Might as well just say it and get it over with. Like ripping a bandage off a wound. He raised his gaze and stared firmly, but sympathetically in the other man’s eyes. “It’s Jennifer.”
Hank went pale. Not only was Jennifer his ex-wife, she was the mother of his son and daughter. “What happened?”
“Hate to tell you this, but we found her dead today.”
Hank’s jaw tightened, his lips pressed in a thin line and tears filled his eyes as he broke off his gaze and stared out the saloon window for a moment. “How? No, don’t tell me. It was drugs, wasn’t it?”
Gage nodded then took a drink of his beer.
“Vicadin?” Hank asked, shaking his head in anger. “I told her that shit was going to kill her. That’s why I threw her out and got a divorce. I love her, I did, but I came home from work early one night to find her stoned out of her mind and my kids locked in their room. The baby hadn’t been changed for hours. I don’t know if she’d even fed them. I had to make a choice.”
Gage and Deke exchanged looks. The guy had done what was best for his kids but blamed himself for not helping his wife. What they were going to tell him wasn’t going to make that go away.
“It wasn’t Vicadin, Hank,” Gage said.
“It wasn’t drugs?”
“Didn’t say that. We found heroin in the room with her. We’ll know more after the autopsy.”
Hank rubbed his hand down his face. “Jesus. Heroin?”
“Looks like it.”
“How the hell did she get mixed up with that?”
“You’ve seen the news. There’s been an epidemic of the stuff hitting the Midwest,” Deke said. “It’s cheaper than the prescription stuff and easier to score. A lot of people who got hooked on pain killers have started using the harder stuff for more of a high.”
“Do you know who she was getting her pills from before she moved out?” Gage asked.
“It started after Bonnie was born. Jen nearly bled to death and the only way to save her life was to do a hysterectomy. She would go to different docs for prescriptions. Don’t know why they didn’t see how often she was coming in. But finally, they stopped giving her any.” He ran his beefy hand over his face again. “Somehow she found someone online that provided her with the stuff. Ran two credit cards to the max before I stopped her from using them. Thought I had the problem solved until that night I found her almost unconscious. That was my limit. I just couldn’t take it anymore.”
Gage gave him a grim nod. He hated seeing the other man suffering. He also hated the fact he was going to have to torture him a little more, but right now Jennifer and the man found dead beside her were his only leads into this mess.
“There’s more,” he said, “Jennifer wasn’t alone in the house where we found her.”
Anger tightened Hank’s features. “Then ask whoever was with her where she got the smack. They’d know better than I would.”
“Can’t. He’s dead, too.”
Hank’s reaction was like watching a war on the battlefield. His shoulders slumped slightly at the same time his hand gripped the beer bottle so tight his knuckles blanched. Gage tensed, prepared to duck if the smaller man decided to chuck the glass bottle his direction. He didn’t. Instead, he suddenly seemed to sink into himself, and collapsed his head onto his arm stretched on the table, his body shaking as quiet sobs of despair rolled over him.
The man had truly loved Jennifer.
Gage looked to Deke for what to do. Deke gave him the your-guess-is-as-good-as-mine shrug in response.
So, he waited. And waited.
Finally, Hank lifted his head, swiping at his eyes and cheeks with his hands. “Who was the guy?”
“Unfortunately, he had no ID on him. We’ve sent his prints to the crime lab, but who knows if that will turn up anything.”
“So, there’s no way to find out who supplied her? Who helped kill her?”
Grimly, Gage took out his phone and opened the photos to the one the crime lab had sent him of the John Doe in the mobile home. “This is a little gruesome, but can you take a look and see if you know might recognize him? Maybe someone who came in the Wagon Wheel?”
Hank took a quick look, glanced away, then tried again, this time concentrating. “Hard to say. Like you say, he might’ve come in here. But there’s lots of customers. He’s definitely not a regular. Sorry.”
“That’s okay, Hank. It was worth the shot.” Gage took back his phone and stood, Deke and Hank following suit. “There’s one last thing,” he paused, putting one hand on the bartender’s shoulder.
“You need me to come do the identification,” Hank answered before the question was asked. “Do I need to do it now?”
Gage shook his head. “No. Tomorrow should be soon enough. Meet me at the office and we’ll go together.”
Hank walked them to the door, and they all shook hands.
“Well, Gunslinger, I don’t envy you that part of your job. That sucked,” Deke said as he and Gage crossed the parking lot in the cold night air.
Gage opened the driver’s side door and stared across the hood at his old friend. “I’m afraid it’s going to get a lot worse before we get a handle on this situation.”
10
What are the tosters doing?” Lexie asked from her seat next to Melissa on the metal and wood bleachers along the side of the baseball diamond.
Melissa didn’t try to correct her. The little girl had picked up on part of the word testosterone to call all the boys in the house. If they were going to call her Shrimp, Melissa figured Lexie could have her own nickname for them as a collective. The boys got a kick out of it, Trent even suggesting they get t-shirts made.
“They’re trying out for the school’s baseball team,” she said, pulling out the quilt she’d brought with her to lay over their laps. It felt more like football weather than baseball to her, but she was taking Daniel’s advice and sitting in the stands to show the boys she was supporting them, even if none of them made the team.
Across the field all the potential players were huddled with Daniel and another coach. They’d come out wearing jackets, but quickly shed those to do stretching and warm-up exercises, including jogging around the entire field twice. Lexie had enjoyed that, waving at her boys as they came past. Each one had given her a little wave, nothing to get too much attention, but enough to thrill the little girl.
“What is baseball?” Lexie asked, leaning into her side.
“It’s a game played by two teams. The field has a diamond shape,” she said, pointing out the shape on the field. “There are four bases, those little white squares. They are first, second, third—”
“And fourth!” Lexie finished excitedly.
Melissa laughed. “Well, that’s what you’d think, but they call it home plate.”
Lexie drew her brows down and made that screwed-thin-line-I’m-confused-look of hers. “That’s silly. It doesn’t look like a house.”
A chuckle sounded from in front of them where Glenna, the waitress from the Peaches ’N Cream Café, sat huddled in her coat and a thick blanket, too. She turned and smiled at them. “After they’re done, you should go down and look at the plate, it does kind of look like a house.”
“Thanks. You son is trying out, isn’t he?”
“Her son, Duncan, doesn’t need to tryout,” a beautiful African American woman with a twinkle in her dark eyes and a brilliant smile said from the bleacher seat between the Melissa and Glenna. “Boy’s got a wicked curveball.”
Melissa didn’t know much about the game, mostly the basics, but she’d heard pitchers could make the ball curve. “So, he’s the pitcher?”
“Well, one of them,” Glenna said, gathering up her things and moving up to sit on the seat in front of Melissa and Lexie, next to the other lady. “Every team needs a few
pitchers. It’s hard to throw the baseball for all nine innings, much less pitch more than one game a week. When they’re in tournaments, playing several games in a weekend, there’s a different pitcher for every game.”
“How many boys make the team?” She’d thought there would only be nine or ten and the boys wouldn’t have a chance to make the team.
“To qualify for the high school Division I we have to have twenty-five players. This is Maggie,” Glenna said. “Her son, Tre is our shortstop and one of the best hitters. Maggie, this is Miss Davis, she runs the Westen House.”
“Glad to meet you,” Maggie said with a smile, then peeked around her to smile at the suddenly shy Lexie, who was burrowing in a little closer to Melissa’s side. “Is that your daughter?”
“No. Lexie is staying with us at the house. We’re here rooting on the boys.”
“How many are there? Tre told me his friend Bryan was going to be trying out today.”
“Four. Deputy Löwe invited them to try out. One of them has never played before.”
Before anyone asked anymore, the group on the far side of the field broke up into three groups.
“What are they going to do now?” Lexie asked.
“The first group is going to show their catching and throwing skills,” Glenna explained. “The young man at home plate will hit ground balls and the kids on the field will take turns trying to catch them and throw to the one on first base. Coach Dan will be watching to see who has good skills. Who throws accurately. Who hustles to catch the ball.”
“What’s hustle?” the little girl asked, relaxing around the new ladies.
“It means to hurry up or work hard,” Melissa explained. “Deputy…uhm, Coach Daniel wants people on his team who go after the ball, not wait for it to get to them.”
“What is that group doing?” Lexie pointed to the smaller group on the far side of the field.
“That’s where the pitchers are practicing,” Glenna said. “See, that tall guy on the little hill? That’s my son Duncan. He’ll throw the ball to the guy with the mask squatting down. He’s the catcher.”
Close To The Heart (Westen Series Book 5) Page 11