by Karen Ball
At the ache in his tone, her heart constricted, her breath stalled.
But the moment shattered when Dan suddenly pulled away, turning to stare at the ads flashing on the movie screen.
Shelby turned to stare at the screen, too, but it was hard to see it through the sudden tears smarting her eyes. At least her voice was steady when she muttered, “I wasn’t encouraging him.”
Dan’s shoulder jerked. “Fine. But guys like that don’t know when to quit.”
“Yeah?” This low growl came from Jayce. “Well, at least they know when to start.”
Shelby couldn’t help it. She really wanted to agree. Especially when, the moment the lights went down, Dan removed his arm from the back of her chair and sat there, stiff and distant.
The movie was typical guy fare—lots of action, explosions, and car chases. Though Shelby usually enjoyed those kinds of movies, too, this one couldn’t end soon enough.
The walk to the car and the drive back to Sanctuary were both painfully silent. Until, that is, they got back to Dan’s house. Shelby planned to hop in her car and drive home, but the minute they parked, Jayce jumped out of the car, slammed the door, and stormed into the house.
Dan and Shelby stared first after him, then at each other.
“What’s wrong with him?”
Before Shelby could answer, Dan was out of the car, stalking up the path to the front door. Loathe to leave these two in the moods they were in, she got out and followed. When she came inside, she found the two of them facing off, Jayce’s angry voice ringing through the room.
“Man, what is your problem?”
“Problem?” Dan scowled. “I don’t have a pr—”
“Oh, right! You don’t have a problem. Then why are you treating Miss Wilson like dirt?”
Oh, no! Shelby’s heart plummeted and her cheeks warmed. She snagged the boy’s sleeve. “Jayce, please—”
He pulled away. “No. I mean it, Miss Wilson. I’m sick of the way he treats you. The way he talks to you.”
If her cheeks had been warm before, they were nuclear now. “It’s really okay.”
Jayce’s jaw tensed. “Naw, man, it’s not. It’s really not.” He turned, his gaze riveted on Dan, who glared at them both. When Jayce spoke again, though, it startled Dan as much as it did Shelby, because in place of the anger was an undercurrent of thick tears. “It’s really not, man.”
Dan took a step toward the boy and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Jayce—”
He shrugged Dan’s hand off. “All she’s ever done is try to help us. Both of us. God knows she was there for me when no one else was.” His pointed look at Dan was clear. “Anyone who looks at her can see how much she cares. About me.” He clenched his fists. “And about you, though I sure can’t figure why.”
“Oh, Jayce, please—”
The wretched look he directed at her stopped her words cold.
“I wish I was older.” The words came out low, rough, and he gave a sharp shake of his head. “I just hope someday a woman like you looks at me the way you look at him.”
He swallowed hard, then glared at Dan. “You shoot off all this talk about being kind and loving and treating women with respect. But you know what? That guy at the movies tonight? He was a total stranger, and he treated Miss Wilson with more respect than you do. He was right, too. She is fine and beautiful. She’s something special, man. So why don’t you open your eyes and see that? She deserves to be appreciated.”
Jayce spun and strode down the hallway, and the click of his bedroom door as it closed sounded like cannon fire in the suddenly still room.
Shelby stood frozen, emotions churning within her. How was she going to make it out of the house before she burst into tears? She stared at the floor, swallowing hard. When she finally steeled herself enough to look up at Dan, she found him watching her.
Say something! Her eyes implored him. Please say something … tell me what you feel …if you feel.
But he didn’t say a word. Just kept his gaze fixed on her, some unfathomable emotion deep in their depths.
With a choked sound, she turned.
“Shelby.” One word, so raw, so full of desperate entreaty, it had to come from the depths of him. But she didn’t stop.
She couldn’t.
Jayce’s words had struck home. As had Dan’s silence.
She pulled the door open and walked through. As she closed it, she leaned her head against the cold wood.
“Happy Mother’s Day to me,” she whispered to the darkness and let the tears flow.
The firm, final sound of the door closing behind Shelby echoed within Dan even hours later.
He stood on the back porch, staring up at but not really seeing the night sky. Instead, what filled his mind was the look on Shelby’s face. That pleading, grieved look.
One word. That’s all it would have taken from him. One word. The word screaming through his mind as he’d listened to Jayce, then her. The word raking at him now, though it was too late.
Stay.
Because encased in that one word would be everything else he longed to say to her.
Don’t leave me. I’m afraid. I can’t make it without you. I need you.
I love you.
But even as he’d tried to form the word, to give it voice, fear stopped him, leaving nothing but pained silence.
Then … she walked away. And that solid, final click as the door closed ate at him. Because he feared it wasn’t just the door to his home that had closed.
But the door to Shelby’s heart.
THIRTY-ONE
“It takes some of us a lifetime to learn that Christ,
our Good Shepherd, knows exactly what He is doing with us.
He understands us perfectly.”
PHILLIP KELLER
“But as for me, how good it is to be near God!
I have made the Sovereign LORD my shelter,
and I will tell everyone about the wonderful things you do.”
PSALM 73:28
PAPERWORK.
Dan hated paperwork.
One of these days, paperwork was going to do him in. Every time he found his desk buried under a pile of forms and reports, all he could do was stand there and ask himself—
“So when’s the big announcement?”
Dan started. “What?”
Jasmine grinned from behind the bright blue glasses she was wearing. She didn’t need glasses; she just liked the way they looked. She’d chosen this pair, she told Dan, because they matched her hair so well.
That, too, was bright blue.
“You know—” she waggled her brows, making her eyebrow ring jump up and down—“the announcement. About you and Shelby?”
Now Dan was totally confused. He came out of his office to stand by her desk. “Jasmine, what are you talking about?”
She studied him a moment, then tossed off a shrug. “Okay, okay, I can take a hint. You don’t want to talk about it.”
“Talk about what?”
“You know! You and Shelby.” Her head bobbed side to side, adding emphasis to each word.
“Me and Shelby what?”
The girl let her breath out on a sharp huff and sat back in her chair. “You’ve been spending a lot of time together, right?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“Nights, daytime, even breakfasts together at Lou’s.”
Dan scowled. Just what he needed after that disastrous night at the theater last month. Shelby still spent time with him and Jayce. But things weren’t what they had been. And his regret continued to gnaw at him.
“What is this? Am I under some kind of surveillance?”
Jasmine snickered. “Just the same ol’ Sanctuary surveillance we’re all under every day. You know. Everyone knows your business …”
“And what they don’t know, they make up. Right. Well, I’ve got news for you and the Sanctuary grapevine: Shelby and I are friends. Period. Nothing more.”
Jasmine snorted. “Yeah. Ok
ay. Right.”
This was too much. Paperwork and gossip? Nobody deserved this much grief.
Dan stalked to the coat rack where his jacket hung, talking through gritted teeth. “I’ll say it one more time, so listen up. Shelby Wilson is a friend. The time she’s spending is with Jayce, not with me.” Truth be told, she’d probably be happy to never see him again. “Because that’s what the court ordered.”
He pushed his arms into the jacket sleeves, then turned back to Jasmine. Elbows planted on her desk, her chin resting in her hands, she watched him with wide, innocent eyes. “Whatever you say, Chief.”
“And stop calling me Chief!”
With that semi-tantrum, Dan jerked the office door open and stormed to his cruiser. He’d no sooner grabbed the car door handle than he heard his name. A groan worked its way up from deep inside when he recognized the voice.
Aggie Hunter.
Am I being punished, God? Did I do something this bad today? Whatever it was, I’m sorry. Believe me, I’m sorry.
He turned, looking across the street. Aggie and Doris were in their usual rocking chairs, waving him over.
After that day at the funeral, it took Dan a long time to look Agatha Hunter in the face. Partially because he was so angry. But also because he eventually realized she was right. And that just made him angrier.
He’d avoided her as long as he could. Then, one day when he was leaving the office, deep in thought, he looked up and she was there.
“Deputy.”
He couldn’t exactly ignore her. “Miss Hunter.”
She hesitated, seeming a bit unsure of what to say next. “Dan—” her rheumy eyes were resolute—“I know things aren’t right between us.”
When he didn’t deny it, she smiled. “I’ve always respected that about you, Deputy. You don’t candy-coat the truth.” She grew serious. “And you know that makes things hard sometimes. When you have to say things you’d rather not say but you know you have to. Because you’re responsible for speaking truth.”
He did know how that felt. Had to deal with it far too often. He allowed a slow nod.
Her wrinkled hand came to rest on his arm with a feather-light touch. “I hated hurting you, boy. Especially on that terrible day. But I don’t candy-coat, either. Not when there’s so much at stake. We’d just lost two beautiful children, and I couldn’t stand the thought of losing another.” She patted his arm. “Especially not one Shannon loved so dearly.”
Dan put his hand over hers. “I understand, Aggie. You did the right thing.”
Relief and gratitude shone in her eyes. “Thank you, Deputy. And so did you when you took that boy in.”
From there they went on to talk about Jayce. It wasn’t a long conversation, but it was enough to let them both know they were back on track.
Now, nearly eight months later, it was as though things had never been strained between them. Aggie and Doris were as talkative as ever. He’d never met two women more determined to know all there was to know about everything.
They asked after Jayce whenever they saw Dan. Jayce said they caught him, too, whenever they saw him.
“Those are two crazy ladies,” he’d commented just a few nights ago.
“Crazy like foxes,” Dan muttered.
“Foxes?” Jayce stared at him, mouth hanging open. “You think they’re foxes? You seriously need to go on a date, man!”
Dan started to explain the phrase, then he caught the twinkle in Jayce’s eye. The kid was teasing him. That still made Dan smile.
Aggie’s rocker was in slow-and-easy mode. “So, how’s our good deputy this fine spring day?”
Dan looked at the overcast sky, then back at Agatha and her little Chihuahua. “Aren’t you exaggerating a bit, Agatha?”
Her brow furrowed. “What’s that about eggs? What eggs?”
“Ignore her, Dan.” Doris gave her companion an arched glower. “She does it on purpose. I swear, I’m starting to think this old crony hears better than the rest of us.”
“Oak roany steers? What in the name of persnickety are oak roany steers?” Aggie was looking from side to side, perplexity peeking out of the creases on her forehead.
“Never mind about persnickety, Aggie. We’ve got serious concerns to address with our dear deputy.”
Dan leaned against the railing. “Oh? And what concerns are those?”
Doris straightened in her chair, her hands resting in her lap. “Has there been any progress in finding James Brumby?”
Just what he needed. A reminder that Brumby was still running around, scot-free. “No.”
“I just don’t understand how a man and four dogs can disappear like that.” Doris leaned forward. “Do you?”
“No.” Don’t get irritated, Dan. Just answer their questions. “I don’t. I wish I did.”
“Of course you do.” Aggie tugged on her friend’s sleeve, as though to stall any further discussion of James Brumby. Bless her heart—
“Have you discovered anything further about that terrible drug situation?” Aggie clipped Half Pint onto his leash and set him on the boardwalk to wander. “Why, just the thought of such a thing in our lovely town … it makes me want to weep.”
Doris’s head bobbed. “Weep. Absolutely.”
“Well, I for one am glad you’re still investigating it all.”
“Even though the good sheriff told you to stay out of it. The investigation, that is. Not the meth lab.” Doris’s brow furrowed. “Although I suppose you’re supposed to stay out of the lab as well.”
Dan didn’t even wonder how on earth they’d learned what the sheriff told him. Or that he was continuing to investigate the lab and the shooting. These two knew everything. His rueful chuckle wasn’t lost on them.
“You are heading for a breakthrough, aren’t you?”
“I wish I could say I was, Doris, but every lead I’ve managed to scrounge up just fizzled out. I’ve talked to the principal at the school. She said they’ve been working against the drug situation for years, but she has no proof who is involved. I’ve had meetings with kids and their parents. No luck. I even went down to the valley and talked with the DARE team. They’ve got their suspicions, but again, no proof. If anyone around here knows anything, they’re not talking.”
Aggie plucked Half Pint from the boardwalk and clutched him to her, both trembling—Aggie from indignation; Half Pint from being squeezed so hard. “Not talking? Why ever not?”
Oh, if only more people had the courage of these two little ladies. “Because they’re afraid. And I can’t blame them. Now if I’m right about who’s behind all of this—”
“That Murphy boy.”
The ladies said it in unison and with the utmost conviction. If Dan had worn dentures, he would have dropped his teeth. Aggie waved his amazement away.
“Deputy, please. We’ve lived in Sanctuary most of our lives. I remember Marlin when he was tiny.”
“Even then he was a terror,” Doris agreed. “Did you know I used to be a school teacher, Deputy? I taught first grade.” Her face glowed with happy memories. “Oh, it was such fun at first. But those last few years—” She grimaced. “Children are so different than they used to be.”
Dan didn’t disagree. “Marlin was one of your students.”
“He was. That was my last year teaching. Oh, I remember how Marlin used to torment the other children.”
“Of course, that father of his was no help.”
Dan’s attention spiked. “Father?”
“Oh, yes.” Doris tsked. “Mike Murphy. Such an unpleasant man. So angry at everything and everyone. Mean spirited and manipulative. Why, everybody just knew he was involved in terrible things.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Drugs, even!” Her sigh overflowed with sadness. “And oh! The terrible way he treated his son.”
Stories like this never ceased to anger Dan. “He beat him.”
“No one could say, for certain.” Aggie sounded so sad. “But I think he must have. I do know he yelled at
the boy. Constantly. Said horrid things.” She blinked, as though struggling against tears. “No child should have to endure such things.”
Doris reached out to pat Aggie’s arm, then looked up at Dan. “I tried to help the boy, to let him know not everyone was like his father. But it was no use. Every time I’d start to break through the walls he had up, his father would lay into him.”
Aggie stroked Half Pint’s ears. “And Marlin would come to school worse than ever.”
Doris’s sigh was heavy. “I think, without really knowing it, he wanted everyone else to be as unhappy as he was. It was so sad.”
Yes, it was. And it helped Dan understand what drove Murphy. Violence begets violence. “So where’s his father now? I don’t recall ever seeing him. Or his mother, for that matter.”
“Oh, dear.” Doris cringed. “The mother, well, none of us ever knew her. When Mike moved to Sanctuary, it was just him and Marlin. And he wasn’t exactly talkative. Not about his wife, or much of anything else.”
“But he still lives around here?”
Aggie shook her head. “Oh, no, Deputy. He died.” She clutched her hands. “Shot himself with his favorite gun. Marlin was fifteen at the time. He was the one who found his father and called the police.”
This sobering news hit Dan square in the chest. Abandoned by his mother. Abused by his father. Scarred by the suicide, by seeing his father that way …
There was plenty of fodder to feed the rage inside Murphy.
Still, that didn’t excuse criminal acts. And Dan was certain the thefts in the area and the meth lab all led back to Marlin Murphy.
If only he had some kind of proof.
Unfortunately, as he’d learned on those police reports, Marlin covered his tracks well. The kid might be a thug, but he was a crafty thug. He ensured other kids took the fall for what he did.
Kids like Jayce.
“Well, enough of this sad talk.” Doris brushed at her lap, as though ridding herself of troublesome crumbs, then aimed a seraphic smile up at Dan. “Now, Deputy, on to what really matters.”
“Oh, indeed!” Aggie hugged Half Pint. “Do tell us, Deputy, how goes it between you and Shelby Wilson? Are there wedding bells on the horizon?”