Then, belatedly, it hit him.
“Wait...you’re saying when the dog sat there like that, in front of her, staring at you two...that was a signal?”
“It was.” Hayley this time. “That’s his ‘fix it’ look.”
“Meaning...?”
“She has a problem,” Quinn said, deadpan.
Brady looked toward the skid marks and the crumpled guardrail. “Ya think?” he said dryly.
Quinn didn’t take offense—in fact, he smiled. “This is where it gets really strange.”
“I think we passed that a while ago.”
Quinn kept smiling, supremely unruffled. Brady had the feeling he’d been through this before. Perhaps often. Definitely often, if what he’d said about multiple cases was true.
“To clarify, she has a problem Foxworth can help with.”
He knew he was gaping at them now, but he couldn’t help it. “You’re saying your dog can not only tell when someone has a problem, but when it’s a problem you can fix?”
“Pretty much.”
He turned to look at the dog in question. Who sat watching him as if he somehow knew Brady was the one they were trying to convince. Watching him with those dark, gold-flecked eyes in a way that made him think of animals controlling huge flocks of sheep with the simple power of their gaze.
Now you’re off the deep end, Crenshaw.
“But,” Hayley said after a moment when he tried to stare down the dog and lost, “that doesn’t really matter yet. If nothing else, I get the feeling dealing with her mother the mayor isn’t something you’re looking forward to. Foxworth can help with that. We’ve got a bit of a record with politicians.”
The rest of what he’d heard and read about them came back to him in a rush. Including the departure in shame of a governor he’d never liked or trusted in the first place.
“Small-town mayor’s a bit below your weight class, isn’t it?” he asked.
“That’s the best part of being Foxworth and independent. We decide who we help instead of having it decided for us.”
He smiled at that. But shook his head. “Look, I appreciate it, but she’s just a pain, not crooked. She wants to make Hemlock a utopia.”
“Utopia tends to be expensive,” Quinn said dryly.
“Yeah. And Hemlock’s just a typical, decent small town. Nothing big enough to get you guys involved.”
“We already are,” Hayley said, nodding at their dog.
Brady’s brow furrowed. “Let’s put it this way,” Quinn said. “He will give us no peace until we help.”
Brady shook his head again, but this time wonderingly. He just couldn’t reconcile this man with being controlled by a dog.
He heard the rumble of a truck coming down the road, glanced up and saw the heavy-duty tow truck approaching.
“Aren’t you curious about the whole tire thing?” Quinn asked.
“Of course. I’m going to dig into that,” he said, feeling a tiny bit affronted that they’d think he wouldn’t. But they didn’t know him, any more than he really knew them. It was all first impressions, and as good as he was at that, he wasn’t perfect.
“I guessed you would,” Quinn said, and the sting faded. “But I’m also guessing your department’s stretched a little thin, maybe, and you don’t have a lot of time for such things once the initial reports are done. We have resources at your disposal. And we can, perhaps, keep the mayor at bay if you end up treading on her toes.”
That alone made it the most tempting offer he’d had in a while.
“As soon as you’re done here, why don’t we go to the clinic and check on Ashley?” Hayley said. “Then we’ll go—or not—from there.”
That couldn’t hurt, could it? Besides, he’d always had a gut-level feeling that talking to any politician without witnesses was not a wise thing to do.
“All right,” he finally said as the truck slowed and began to pull over.
Cutter barked. Short, sharp and sounding almost like he was indicating it was about time. Quinn saw his glance at the dog, and laughed.
“My friend, this is only the beginning.”
Chapter 5
Brady was glad to see Ashley sitting in the waiting room when he and the Foxworths arrived at the small clinic in town. That she was already out here indicated they weren’t going to hold her. She was signing a form one of the staff had apparently given her, since a woman in the clinic scrubs was standing next to her with a clipboard.
She stood up as the woman left, and he noted she did it easily, albeit carefully. Her forehead was furrowed, though, as if she was still upset. Understandable. Whatever the story was behind the snow tire mix-up, she’d had a hell of a ride.
Then she looked up and spotted them. The smile that crossed her face then did crazy things to his pulse. Which made no sense. She was just another citizen he’d helped—there was no reason for her to have that kind of effect.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said when they reached her, and Brady didn’t think he imagined she was focused on him, although she’d nodded at the Foxworths, as well.
“Just following up,” he said in his most professional tone. “They cut you loose?”
“Yes. I’m fine. My mother is on the way. They said I should rest and take these—” she held up a small bottle with some pills “—for the soreness that will be coming.”
“Do it,” he recommended. “It’s a lot easier to stay ahead of the pain than to knock it down once it gets a foothold.”
She gave him another of those smiles. And it had the same effect, damn it. “Voice of experience?”
“Yes.”
A large knot of people came through the glass doors, and all of them seemed to be talking—loudly—at once.
“I think I’d rather wait outside,” she said.
“My feelings about any medical facility,” he said, and when that smile came yet again, he couldn’t help smiling back.
“Now,” Hayley said when they were outside and she and Ashley had taken seats on the bench in the shelter of the portico, “is there anything you need at home? Do you have food that will be easy to fix for the next couple of days? Is there a place that delivers?”
“Benny’s,” she and Brady said at the same instant. And they both laughed. She looked a little startled, as if she were surprised she was able to laugh.
“I’ll be fine. My mother will help. And—” She stopped, turning her head slightly. He’d heard the same thing she had: the insistent barking of a dog.
“That,” Quinn said, “will be Cutter. He’ll need to see for himself that you’re all right.”
Ashley laughed again. And again seem surprised by it. Whatever had turned her ashen back on the road was obviously still eating at her.
Quinn pulled out his keys and hit a button on the fob. The barking stopped. Seconds later Cutter was racing toward them. He must have raised the back, Brady realized.
The dog ignored his people and came to a halt in front of Ashley. He gave a low whine that managed to sound worried. “Oh, you sweet boy,” she crooned, leaning over as she reached to pet him. The moment she stroked the dark fur, her forehead smoothed out, as if whatever it was had receded, at least for the moment. Crazy, the effect the animal had. Petting any dog always made him feel better, but not to this extreme.
She looked up then and seemed almost normal again. At least, as normal as anyone could be after having been through what she had today. “Thank you all for coming. I feel so much better.”
Brady believed her, but better didn’t mean well, and there were still dark, ugly shadows in those green eyes. The whole snow tire thing had hit her hard, and that made him angry. If somebody here in town had ripped her mother off, telling her they’d installed snow tires when they hadn’t, then they’d be getting a visit from him. But he couldn’t imagine anyone in
Hemlock being stupid enough to try a stunt like that on the mayor, of all people.
A car in a hurry pulled in under the portico and stopped in a red zone.
“She’s here,” Ashley said just as Brady recognized the woman behind the wheel. He supposed she could be forgiven the parking, given the circumstances. Oddly, he remembered something about her wanting a car and driver but having to forgo it for budget reasons. She must have borrowed this car, since hers was sitting at the tow yard on the other side of town.
Mayor Alexander got out as soon as the car stopped. She was average height, slim, with jaw-length dark hair. Determinedly dark, he’d heard one of their dispatchers say once.
Ashley stood up. And in the same instant, the Foxworths’ dog got to his feet. The animal was staring at the woman approaching. And then his head went down, his hackles went up and a low growl issued from his throat. And he moved slightly to stand between Ashley and her mother.
“Well, well,” Brady heard Quinn murmur, almost under his breath.
“Interesting,” Hayley seemed to agree.
“It’s all right, Cutter, it’s my mother,” Ashley said. Brady thought it said a lot about her that she wanted to soothe the dog after everything she’d been through.
But the dog didn’t appear soothed, and the low, warning growl continued. Then the dog looked up at his people.
“We got it, boy,” Quinn said to him. “Stand down. For now.”
The dog quieted. Sat. As if he’d understood perfectly. But he kept those dark eyes on the woman nearing them now. What the hell was that about?
He backed away as the mayor approached, giving the woman a chance to assure herself that her daughter was all right. Ms. Alexander gave the dog a wary look, although he was still sitting immobile. But then she turned to Ashley and enveloped her in a clearly heartfelt hug.
The two had a muted conversation, out of which Brady could only hear phrases. “...so worried...you were just confused...don’t worry...the car...you could have died.”
And a moment later Ashley was pointing to him.
“This is Deputy Crenshaw, Mother. He and Mr. Foxworth—” she gestured at Quinn “—saved my life.”
The woman frowned for an instant, but it vanished quickly. “I owe you both a debt of gratitude.”
“My job, ma’am,” Brady said.
“Yes. Well.” She glanced at Quinn, and the frown reappeared for an instant. But then she waved Brady to one side, asking to speak to him privately.
“What actually happened, Deputy Crenshaw?”
He gave her what would be a matter of public record anyway and kept his speculation to himself.
“But...where was this?”
“About three miles east on the highway, just before the Snowridge turnoff.”
The woman looked mystified. “But she was only going to the market. Barely a block away.”
He frowned. “She told me she was on her way to Snowridge to pick up something for you.”
“She...did that two days ago.” She gave a sharp shake of her head.
“Could she have gotten turned around? Easy to do if you’re not familiar with the area.”
The mayor shook her head again. “She grew up here.”
Brady’s brow furrowed as he tried to remember if he’d ever encountered Ashley Jordan before. Not that he remembered, but he would have graduated the local high school before she’d even started, so that wasn’t surprising.
“Please, tell me how it happened.”
But by the time he was finished, Ashley’s mother was again shaking her head, slowly this time, and to his surprise, there was a sheen of moisture in her eyes. And he chided himself for forgetting this wasn’t the mayor he was dealing with at the moment, it was Ashley’s mother.
“I was praying this day would never come,” she said, almost brokenly. “It’s her father all over again.”
“Her father?”
Ms. Alexander shook her head as if to clear it. “I must ask you to keep this confidential.”
“Of course.”
“Ashley...has been having trouble.”
“Trouble?”
“Mentally. It started six months ago, but it’s gotten worse. She was heading for a total breakdown.”
“That’s...extreme.” And it did not compute, did not fit with what he’d seen today. Surely a woman who could deal so well with what had happened out there couldn’t have such a tenuous hold on sanity?
“She lost her job,” her mother was saying. “Then her apartment, because there were...incidents. A couple of small fires and water overflows, that kind of thing. She’s become very forgetful.”
Okay, that was pretty serious. “What was her job?”
“She was working at one of the resorts over in Snowridge.” She gave him a sad smile. “A friend of mine is a partner there, but I couldn’t ask him to keep her on when she made so many mistakes. I finally brought her here to live with me, so I could see to her safety.” She shook her head again and sounded wrenchingly heartbroken. “She’s seeing a psychiatrist, but there hasn’t been much progress. If anything, it’s all gotten worse, because she’s developed anger issues.”
“Anger at who?”
“The doctor. Me. Anyone trying to help her, actually.”
This was sounding incredibly grim, but Brady was still having trouble reconciling all this with the woman he’d seen today.
“Tell me about the snow tires,” he said abruptly.
Ms. Alexander blinked. “What?”
“Where did you have them installed?”
She frowned. “But... I haven’t. Yet. That’s why we agreed she would stay in town after the snow.”
“Your daughter said it was done yesterday.”
She stared at him. Then realization dawned in her eyes. Eyes that were, he noted, brown, far from Ashley’s vivid green.
“Is that...what happened? She skidded because of no snow tires?”
“I think it was a large factor, yes. So whoever told you they’d installed them, they have some explaining to do. Tell me who it was...”
His voice trailed away as tears welled up and over now. Great. Now you’ve got the mayor crying.
“Clearly she’s become a danger not only to herself now,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “Deputy, I told her I planned to have snow tires put on, not that I already had. But she so often hears what she wants to hear. Or what she hears gets changed by the time it gets to her brain. The doctor has a technical word for it, but...”
He drew in a deep breath. Let go of his first perceptions of Ashley Jordan, since clearly they were wrong. Or perhaps it was only because of the high-stress situation that she’d reacted so calmly. Or maybe she was so mentally detached she hadn’t realized what danger she was in. It was hard to believe, but obviously something was very wrong.
He watched them both, Ashley without at least any visible qualm, get into the car. They left at a much more sedate pace, her mother apparently calmer now that she knew her daughter was all right.
“Nan Alexander, went back to her maiden name after being widowed two decades ago, current age fifty-one, second term as mayor. That sound right?”
Brady blinked as Hayley Foxworth quoted all this to him from her phone as soon as the car with Ms. Alexander and her daughter were out of sight.
“I guess,” he said as he fiddled with his keys. “She was on the city council when I started ten years ago. Didn’t know about the name change, although I knew she was a widow.” Something occurred to him. “Ashley’s father?”
“Andrew Jordan.” So she wasn’t married. Not that it mattered. Or maybe she just followed her mother’s lead and went back to her maiden name. Or never changed it. Or—“He committed suicide when Ashley was eight.”
Damn. That sucked. “I didn’t know that part, either,” he muttered
. No wonder her mother was so worried.
“Can screw a person up, I would think,” Quinn said.
“Twenty years later?” he asked, rather rhetorically.
“Or maybe all along,” Hayley said gently.
“There is that,” Brady said. He couldn’t share what her mother had told him in confidence, so he said only, “Her mother is concerned about her...state of mind.”
“And the snow tires?” Quinn asked.
He could share that much, he supposed. “Mother says she only told her she was going to have them put on, not that she already had.”
“Hmm. Could be a simple misunderstanding. Unless she makes a habit of it.”
He didn’t speak but saw that Quinn understood that was an answer in itself.
It was tragic, sad, poignant and several other things.
What it was not was his business. Not any longer.
Chapter 6
Two days later, Brady cleared the scene of a reported vandalism—after convincing the resident that his neighbor putting snow from shoveling his walk in a pile that spilled over onto his property was not, by definition, vandalism—and gave the disposition to dispatch. The voice that came back held amusement, and Brady suspected she had known all along it was a nothing call. But in return he got cleared for lunch, and while he was conveniently here in town so he could grab something decent. And warm, like maybe a bowl of chili at Benny’s.
On the way there, he passed the Hemlock city hall, a rather stark, modern building just a couple of blocks from the sheriff’s office. And that made him wonder if the mayor was back at work or at home caring for her daughter. Alexander had never seemed the soft, mothering type to him, but what did he know? His own incredibly gentle, loving mother could turn into a wildcat if someone she loved was threatened. Maybe Mayor Alexander was just the opposite.
He made the turn off Mountain View and headed toward Benny’s. He should call his mom; it had been nearly a week since he’d spoken to her. Although she was so busy these days—
Operation Mountain Recovery Page 4