“What for?” she asked, her brows drawn down in confusion.
“I have a date with a six-year-old girl and a baseball and a mitt,” he said with a wink and then turned on his heels to head out into the darkening night. Melissa was right, if he made a promise to Lexie, he had to keep it. But he also believed Melissa was wrong. If there was one place that little girl belonged, it was right here with her.
13
You’re fifteen minutes late,” Bobby said as Daniel came in the front door of the Sheriff’s office.
“Sorry. Stopped at the Peaches ’N Cream for coffee,” he said, holding up the cup in his hand, then lifted the other with a bakery-style box and plastic bag in it. “And there was a whole cherry pie in the pie case.”
The short brunette pushed herself from her chair and headed his way. “There’d better be at least two slices and two forks in there.”
“Forks and napkins are in the bag and I said there was a whole pie. Would I tempt my boss’s pregnant wife with cherry pie and not bring her some? What kind of fool do you take me for?” He laughed and handed her the box. “Thought you wouldn’t mind chatting a bit over a slice before you head out.”
Bobby gave him a narrow-eyed look. “Bribery?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Simple conversation over pie between two co-workers. I want to pick your brain about something.”
“Ok, but only if you let me take the leftovers home for Gage.”
“For Gage? Not for your breakfast tomorrow?”
“Well, that, too. This baby adores sweets.” She laughed as she headed back to her desk. “Pull up a chair and tell me what’s on your mind.”
He hung up his jacket near the door and grabbed his chair and coffee. Seated across her desk, he accepted the plastic fork from inside the box, which she set between them. He’d had Lorna cut it into slices and he forked up a heaping mass of cherries and crust. Bobby dug into hers, and they ate in silence until both had nearly finished off their dessert.
Bobby took a long drink of her water, the new liquid of choice for her since her pregnancy started, and leaned back in her rolling chair. “So, what’s on your mind?”
“Raising teenagers.”
Bobby blinked, then chuckled. “Something you’ve been keeping from us?”
“No, I just spent the early part of the evening over at Westen House working with the boys on the basics of baseball plays. Melissa has her hands full with the four guys and now Lexie. Was wondering what you found helped you when you suddenly found yourself raising your sisters as teens? Were there any rules you followed? Any books you thought helpful?”
Bobby grew quiet and for a minute he regretted asking her the questions. Then she crossed her elbows on the table in front of her and leaned in, like she planned on having a long conversation.
“No, no books, no classes. I mean, I was already studying to be a teacher, so I had some psychology classes under my belt, but my sisters and I were all so traumatized, losing Mom and Dad like that. All three of us were in different stages of grief, and I had a barely passing knowledge of those from college courses, too.” She paused and stared hard into his eyes. “Trust me, grief is its own master and you can only really, really learn it by going through it.”
He nodded. He’d learned that at a young age, too, but he wasn’t sharing that with her tonight. It was something he never discussed, not even with his long-distance family.
“My first instinct was we had to stay together, no matter what,” she continued. “I had to prove to the state that I could support all three of us. Luckily for us, the judge believed keeping a family together with me as the adult, was far superior to separating my sisters to foster homes. It wasn’t easy, not by a long shot and there were times I wondered if I’d taken on too much.”
“So, how did you do it? I mean one is a kick-ass lawyer and another is a surgical resident. You must’ve done something to motivate them, given them a sound basis to build their lives on.”
“I’m not sure I can take credit for all that. They are both strong-willed girls.” She gave a little self-deprecating laugh and shrug. “It sort of runs in the family. Because of that they would push the boundaries. Then I had to just use my gut and try to help them see that every decision they made had a consequence, good or bad.”
“Sounds like what Melissa is doing.” He leaned back in his chair. “She’s set up a list of rules that all the boys have agreed to follow. It hangs in the center of the kitchen beside a list of chores.”
“I’ve heard good things about how those boys are doing.”
“Where from?” he asked, feeling defensive that people were gossiping about Melissa and her charges. He suspected she wouldn’t like it, either.
“Relax, Dan,” Bobby said with a smile. “I said it was good things and mostly just from their bosses. Apparently, all four boys love their jobs and are good workers. She’s doing a good job with them.”
He ran his hand over his face, trying to wipe out his own frustration. “I wish she thought that. She keeps saying how she’s under qualified.”
“Nonsense. She cares. That above all else makes her qualified to help change those kids’ lives.” Bobby pushed away from her desk and stood, arching her back a little. “I tell you what, why don’t I stop by tomorrow and have a chat with Melissa. Sort of commiserate with her over being sudden parental figures to almost grown people?”
He stood and started packing up the left-over pie for her. “I didn’t mean she needed advice.”
“Of course you didn’t. I’ve been meaning to stop by and check on her and Lexie anyways,” Bobby said, grabbing her bag and coat. “And I won’t mention this chat, either. Your secret is safe with me.”
Before he could ask what she meant by that, she hurried to the door, stopping to hold it open. “Hey Earl,” she said as an older man dressed in his standard jeans, t-shirt and army jacket, with a fairly new backpack on his back entered the office.
“Hey, Mrs. Sheriff. Was hoping a cell…” Earl lowered his head and a light blush filled his wrinkled cheeks above his scraggly white beard, “Uhm, it’s mighty cold out tonight.”
Bobby laid one hand on the man’s shoulder. “I’m pretty sure there’s a spot in the back for you tonight, Earl. Check with Dan,” she said with a nod over her shoulder to him as she left.
Earl was the town’s resident homeless man. Daniel would guess his age at about seventy, which would’ve made him the proper age to serve in Vietnam. Earl had been wandering around the town for the better part of twenty years. As best as anyone remembered, including Gage who’d been a kid back then, Earl just appeared on the scene. Harmless, friendly, and willing to do menial odd jobs to earn enough for a meal or a bottle. Since the new jail was built into the court house years ago, Gage’s father, the former sheriff, started the practice of leaving one of the cots in the old holding cells at the back of the station house open if Earl was in need of a place to sleep it off, voluntarily or involuntarily.
“Hey, Earl,” Daniel said, shaking hands with the older man. “I thought you were sleeping over at the church.”
Earl shuffled his feet a time or two, swaying a little as was his habit. “My job was to keep the sidewalks and steps clear of snow in the winter. Now it’s gone I told Preacher Miller I didn’t feel right about sleeping there at night. Course he said he needed some help with ground maintenance, but I kinda like being out and about in the daytime. Seein’ folks, ya’ know?”
“Sure do. You make rounds almost as much as we do.” Daniel pulled open the supply cabinet next to the coffee maker, grabbed a bottle of water stored there and handed it to Earl. “Did you have any dinner tonight?”
“Yeah, yeah. Pete had some pans for me to wash. And it’s Sunday,” he said with a grin.
Daniel returned it. “Fried chicken special.”
“Best in town,” Earl said before cracking the seal on the bottle lid and taking a drink, his hands shaking just a bit as he held the bottle to his lips.
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Remembering how good the chicken was at Melissa’s tonight, he could argue with the older man, but hated to burst the man’s enjoyment of his hard-earned meal. “Well, I’ll get you an extra blanket, and you can bunk down in back.”
“That’s good. Was thinking of heading out to the park by the creek, but there’s a new crowd out there these days. Makes me nervous.”
Earl followed Daniel out of the office area, into the large room that had three old-fashioned cells, complete with bars like you’d see in old western movies. Opposite was a set of shelves housing office supplies, extra pillows and linens for the three beds in the cells. They used the area to house prisoners if the new jail reached over-flowing, but mostly, it was a place for the occasional overnight guest like Earl. During the blizzard, a few city workers and deputies took turns catching some rest here, too.
Daniel pulled out a pillow and a blanket, handing them to Earl at the door to the cell farthest from the office, his favorite. “What about the new crowd makes you nervous?”
“Young guns. Come in, throw their weight around. Offering up smack. Takin’ stuff from the regulars. People afraid to close their eyes.” Earl sat on the bed, taking off his shoes and setting them carefully on the bunk. Pulled off his backpack and set it just beside the head of the bed. “I keep all my stuff together, but other people have their things disappear. Especially around monthly check time.”
“Anyone getting hurt?” Daniel asked leaning against the open cell door.
Earl stretched out on the bed and pulled up the covers, still wearing his jacket. “Nothing too bad, a few bruises on old Reg and Mable’s arm got twisted around. Told her she should see Doc Clint, but she said she’d just put some herbs on it.”
“Think anyone would talk to me if I head out there?”
Earl let out a loud yawn. “Maybe in the morning. The young turks scatter by then…sleeping off their high, I guess. But you know the regulars don’t like talking to cops much. Not like me.”
“You see anyone dealing?”
“Not out in the open, just the old caddy,” Earl muttered and turned on his side, his back to the door. Conversation over.
Daniel turned off the lights to the back room, grabbed his chair from in front of Bobby’s desk and returned to his own, contemplating what he’d heard from Earl. When Jason came in to take over the night shift, he’d do a drive-by on the park, see if anything unusual was going down or if there was a Cadillac in the area. They needed to find the dealer for this heroin, Earl’s info was as good a place to start as any. He’d been right once before and pointed them in the direction of a stalker trying to kill one of their own. Earl might seem part of the landscape, very under the radar and unnoticed by many town folks and tourists, but he kept his eyes and ear open, as he put it, looking out for my town.
Since he had a few hours to kill until his shift was over, Daniel opened his laptop and plugged into the State DMV to look for Cadillacs registered in the state and in the county. He also pulled up a search engine and typed in the words, “How to teach young kids to throw a baseball properly.”
He smiled.
Usually, working with kids in high school, they all knew proper mechanics. He’d never coached little league before. Never coached a girl, either. He reconsidered that idea. Would it be any different teaching a six-year old boy to throw? Nope. No reason she couldn’t learn to throw the ball properly, accurately.
The search engine brought up a list of videos and he sat back to watch and learn. Melissa might think he only had one chance, but he believed Chloe would convince the judge the best place for that little girl was with Melissa at Westen House. And he needed to be prepared. He’d promised Lexie, she’d learn to play, and he was damn well going to teach her the right way.
Not quite midnight, the river park looked like a slow-moving ant hill in the yellow lamp lights scattered around the park and the moonlight shifting in and out of the cloud cover.
Daniel sat in his SUV watching the people milling about. Many a night he’d driven by this park on his tour of the town. Westen didn’t have many regular homeless people. Earl was the only one that seasoned all year round in the town. In the warmer months, starting after the snow melted, the numbers grew. Most were harmless vagrants wandering from one small town to another. Some found work in the warm months on the farms as day laborers. Others, Vets just hitchhiking with the truckers cross country—modern day hobos, lost in a busy world that had no time to help them.
Setting his night vision binoculars on the passenger seat, he didn’t know what he’d expected to see tonight. Something in the way Earl spoke made him wonder if dealers were working the park. But what he saw didn’t look any different than any other night.
Even though he’d spent the early part of the evening with Melissa and her kids, he’d driven past Westen House as usual on his way here, waiting just long enough for the downstairs lights to go out. Melissa always left the porch lights on, but he traced her movements through the house as one room after another went dark, then the one on the corner where her room was would go on. Ever since he’d brought Lexie to the house, he’d spent every night checking on the occupants. Relaxing only when he knew they were safe inside for the night.
Stupid. He knew it. They weren’t his family. Not really his responsibility. But ever since he’d picked up Lexie in her threadbare clothes and wrapped her in that quilt, he’d felt a connection with her. The unquestioning way Melissa had opened her heart and home for the little girl had bonded them as protectors. He didn’t doubt for a moment that if it came to it, she’d put herself in front of any danger threatening not only Lexie, but all the young men in her care. He would, too.
Every time he was near her, he wanted to touch her. Pull her close to hold her. Sample the taste of her lips. Make love to her. The need seemed to grow stronger each day. He loved talking with her, learning about her desire to further her education, and even her rebuke about promises to Lexie showed her strength and spirit.
But she was a woman with a violent past. It would be a very tricky path to maneuver to convince her she could trust him. And before he even considered a relationship with her, he’d have to bare his soul to her, tell her his worst nightmare and the decision he’d made years ago. It’s why he’d never had a serious relationship with any woman before. The fact that he was considering telling Melissa spoke volumes to his feelings.
A minivan pulled up on the side of the park. A wiry-framed man, dressed in jeans and a worn military jacket, with long hair and a short beard climbed out, pulling his backpack with him. The van drove off toward the state highway, passing close enough for Daniel to snap a picture of the license plate. He turned his attention back to the man slowly maneuvering his way into the park. Like he’d done with all the other people milling about in the park tonight, Daniel took a close-up picture of the newcomer with his zoom lens camera, then switched over to the night-vision equipment for better observation. He sat with some of the Vets on one picnic table, but even this far out, Daniel could see he wasn’t dealing. Simply sitting and talking.
Another thirty minutes passed. No one new showed up. Many of the people in the park were hunkering down in sleeping bags or makeshift tents near the bushes. He’d seen no drug deals taking place. Probably was a waste of time, but for the next few nights he might come by and watch, document who came and went. Look for a pattern to emerge. If none did, then that was all good, too.
As he pulled out to head home, he prayed he hadn’t missed anything. The last thing they needed was another dead body popping up out here in the park.
14
How did everything go at the town council meeting?” Daniel asked when Gage and Deke entered the office around noon the next day, looking more relaxed than usual after spending time with the Mayor and other town leaders.
“Surprisingly good,” Gage said. “Tobias was behind the budget increase for the short-term overtime for us and adding State Troopers to moonlight on our searches of the abandoned bu
ildings.”
“And the long term? With how the town is growing, we’re going to need more deputies just for everyday duties.”
“Preaching to the choir here.” Gage draped his coat over his office chair and sat, leaning over his elbows on his desk. “The council discussed it for a good half hour, but finally came to the decision that some of the money the state gave us for repair and growth after their screw-up with the DEA and my ex-wife nearly getting the town blown up in that meth lab mess, should go to help with law enforcement.”
Deke chuckled as he leaned one hip on Gage’s desk. “Yep, they came to that conclusion after Maggie Landon had a come to Jesus meeting with Tobias and Colm Riley. Told them it didn’t matter how much you built and developed the town and surrounding area, if you can’t protect the people, no one would want to live here.”
Gage grinned. “Then she reminded them of the recent murders, the meth lab explosion, the arsonist, the stalker waitress that nearly killed Chloe and Wes, and finally the new drug related deaths.”
Deke barked out a laugh. “I nearly fell off my chair when she suggested someone test the local water supply to see what weird chemical might be causing all this crazy that suddenly had our town looking like an episode of the Twilight Zone.”
“That sounds like Maggie.” Daniel laughed. He’d always liked Maggie Landon. She and her husband owned a Christmas Tree farm, gift store and bakery outside of town. As the mother of Tre, his starting shortstop on the high school baseball team, he’d learned she had both a level head and was a hard worker in support of all the team players. When she decided to run for the town council last fall, he’d been happy to cast his vote in her favor. She brought new blood and fresh ideas to what he’d thought of as a “good-old-boys” club in the council.
“She certainly speaks her mind. Makes the meetings less tedious, that’s for sure,” Deke said. “Gives old Tobias a run for his money. He’d better watch it, or she might be running for mayor someday.”
Close To The Heart (Westen Series Book 5) Page 14