Betrayed

by Sharon Sala

  "I can't get in the shower?" Logan asked.

  "No, honey. Not today. I'll wash what you can't reach, and then we'll change your dressing when we're through."

  "Can you wash the blood out of my hair?"

  "Oh my. I didn't notice...your hair's so dark. Of course I can."

  Logan knew she'd obviously been bathed by someone else when she was little, but this was the first time, and hopefully the last time, someone bathed her as an adult. And when the bath was finished, the nurse left to get a basin and came back with help. Between the two nurses, Logan's hair was finally clean.

  After the morning interviews, Evans changed his mind and called Roger Franklin, only to find he was at home with a broken foot. So, the chief went to him instead. The excuse he used was really close to the truth. He told him he was investigating an old, unsolved crime, and that one of the few clues that he had was that it had happened in 2008 and the perpetrator had driven a late model Chevrolet Silverado.

  Roger was a kind man. One could say he was also quieter than most, but he was forthcoming without reservation, which left the chief with no new information.

  Only the two divorced men remained.

  He knew Tony Warren worked at the Bayou Weekly, so he just dropped by the newspaper office for an impromptu visit.

  Tony wasn't any happier to see the chief than Peyton Adams had been when he got the call, but he willingly went outside and got in the police cruiser with the chief.

  "Okay, I'm here, so what's going on?" Tony asked, and then caught a glimpse of his reflection in the window of his door and frowned. There were smudges from newsprint on one side of his face and near the widow's peak in his hair, which was as white as driven snow. The premature loss of hair color, coupled with his black, bushy eyebrows, was somewhat startling. "God, I look a mess. Sorry about that."

  The Chief waved off the comment.

  "Don't worry about it. Just let me ask the questions and I'll be out of your way."

  "I'm listening," Tony said.

  "A couple of things I need to know. Do you still own the Silverado you once drove?"

  "No. My wife—my ex, she wanted it in the divorce because she was all about not only getting away from me, but living off the grid in Alaska. She thought the pickup would be more useful for what she'd need to haul, like the amount of things she'd have to stockpile."

  Josh nodded.

  "So, do you ever hear from her?"

  Tony shrugged.

  "Once a year, I get a card on my birthday. There's a Saskatchewan postmark, and that's all I know."

  "Really?" Josh asked. "Do you keep them?"

  "Yes. Call me a sap, but I didn't want the divorce, she did. I'm not pining, understand, but I guess I'm happy she communicates. At least I know she's still alive, you know?"

  "I would like to see those postcards for myself."

  "Yeah, sure...whatever. I may have a few in my desk here. I don't clean it out any better than I clean my house. Give me a second to go look."

  He got out and hurried into the building, and a couple of minutes later, came back. He got back in the car and handed them to the chief.

  "I had three. There are more at home, but they all have the same postmark. Other than that, I have no idea where she is."

  Josh turned them over, read the brief messages that went with the Happy Birthday greeting. Same handwriting. Same postmarks. Different dates. He handed them back.

  "Thank you. That's basically all I needed to know."

  Tony started to get out of the car and then stopped.

  "What's this all about, chief? Am I in trouble for something I don't know about?"

  "No. I know this all seems strange, but it has to do with a case. I'm looking for a pickup like the one you used to own, and the guy who owned it. Just running down the list of names I was given."

  "Oh. Okay then."

  "Thanks for your help," Josh said.

  "No problem," Josh said, and went back to work.

  "That went nowhere," Josh muttered. "One more left. Maybe

  something will click there."

  Danny Bales was, as he liked to say it, between jobs. His wife was the fry cook at the Shrimp Shack, and she'd given him fair warning before she left for work to mow their yard. So he was willingly complying.

  He'd already finished mowing in the back and was halfway through with the front when the police chief pulled up in his driveway and got out. At that point, Danny guessed his day was about to get interesting. He cut the engine to the lawnmower, then pulled a rag from his hip pocket and wiped the sweat off his face.

  "Morning, Chief," Danny said.

  "Good morning, Danny. Glad I caught you at home. I need to talk to you."

  "Sure thing," Danny said, and motioned to the empty lawn chairs beneath the shade tree near the porch. "Have a seat here in the shade. Can I get you a cold drink?"

  "No, I'm good, but you look pretty hot. Get one for yourself if you want," Josh said.

  "I'm okay for a bit," Danny said. He sat down, then slapped his knees and grinned. "Can't imagine what I know that you don't, but ask away."

  "This all relates to an open case I'm working on, and I'm going down a list, eliminating names as I go."

  Danny frowned.

  "Well then let's get busy and eliminate mine. I don't want to be on no police list."

  Josh began to explain.

  "This relates to the summer of 2008. At that time, you owned a late model white Chevrolet Silverado, right?"

  "Yep, I did," Danny said.

  "And that was before you and your first wife divorced?"

  "Yes. We were still together that summer. It was later in the year before me and Connie finally called it quits. She took our girl and moved to California. I stayed here."

  "I assume you stay in contact with her some since your girl is with her."

  "Yep, I do. We always liked each other. We just couldn't live together. Angela is sixteen now and comes here every Christmas and Easter."

  Josh nodded.

  "Did your wife take the truck in the divorce?"

  "No, I kept it. I rented it out to people who needed to haul something. Made extra money every month. I got a twenty-dollar bill and a full tank of gas every time someone used it. But someone wrecked it in 2013."

  "Who was that?"

  "My ex-brother-in-law...our illustrious mayor, Barton DeChante."

  Josh's heart sank. The list just exploded exponentially. If it was Danny's truck that Logan Talman had seen back in 2008, it could have been anyone driving it.

  "Do you remember any of the people who rented it back in the summer of 2008?"

  Danny shook his head. "Lord no. That's too long ago."

  "Well then, thanks for the info. I'll let you get back to work."

  Danny frowned.

  "That's it? That's all you needed to know?"

  Josh nodded.

  "What's going on?" Danny asked.

  "I can't comment on anything at this time. Have a nice day," Josh said, and left.

  Danny wasn't happy. He thought if the chief wanted information from him, the least he could do was tell him why.

  Josh was disappointed and dreaded telling Logan the latest twist. Instead of going back to the office, he decided to go check on her. If she was doing okay, he'd tell her what he'd learned.

  Logan had just finished her first walk and was glad to get back in bed.

  "You okay?" Wade asked, as he helped straighten her covers.

  "Yes, just tired."

  "I'm going to change clothes in your bathroom. The guard knows not to let anyone in the room, but if you need me, just call out. I'll hear you."

  "Okay," Logan said, and watched him take his bag into the bathroom to change, admiring his long legs and tight butt. As tall as she was, she usually made men uncomfortable being taller than them. Not only was Wade inches taller than her, but he had no problem with his self-confidence. She appreciated that.

  It took her a couple of minutes
to readjust the sling on her arm, and after she got comfortable, she settled down to rest. She was drifting off to sleep when she heard a knock at her door.

  Before she could focus, Wade came out of the bathroom clean shaven and barefoot, wearing a different pair of jeans and carrying a shirt.

  "I've got this," he said, and slipped on the shirt.

  In all the years Logan had known Wade Garrett, she'd never seen him with his shirt off. Once seen, there was no way to forget the fine-tuned body and rock-hard abs.

  She could hear him talking to someone, and then moments later, Wade came back with Chief Evans behind him.

  "Good morning, Mrs. Talman," Josh said.

  "Please...just Logan, okay?"

  "Logan it is. I came by to see how you're doing," Josh said.

  "Actually doing pretty good. Pain is manageable, and I just had my first walk. The food sucks, but don't tell anyone I said so," she said.

  He grinned, then glanced at Wade, who was now wearing a shirt and putting on his boots.

  "Uh, I have an update about the men on your list."

  "Tell me," Logan said, and raised the head of her bed to a sitting position.

  "I have pretty much cleared the three men with deceased wives and had moved on to the two men whose wives had divorced them. Tony Warren's missing wife, who went off the grid, sends him a birthday card every year. He has a whole handful with Saskatchewan postmarks.

  “But the hitch in depending on the list to find your killer happened when I interviewed Danny Bales. He readily admitted to owning a pickup like the one you saw, and then unknowingly cleared himself. First off, he and his ex-wife have a good relationship and share a child. But this is what threw me. He said he rented out that truck all the time to anyone who needed to haul something. Said he got twenty dollars and a full tank of gas, and they brought it back when they were through. He doesn't remember who rented it during the summer of 2008, but that practice went on until 2013 when it was wrecked. This opens up the possibilities to nearly anyone in Bluejacket, including the mayor, who happens to be his ex-brother-in-law, and the one who wrecked it."

  Logan's expression was one of pure dismay.

  "Oh no. I was so sure that would be the link I needed."

  "I'm sorry, but don't think I'm quitting on this. It's just a rough patch," Josh said.

  Logan swallowed past the lump in her throat. All this meant was that she needed to up the ante.

  "I think it's time to publicly announce why I'm here," Logan said.

  "No!" Wade said.

  Logan frowned. "You don't make my decisions."

  Wade turned away, and walked to the window, leaving her and the chief to finish the conversation.

  Logan knew he was mad, but he may as well get over it.

  Josh shook his head. "I don't know if—"

  "Hear me out," Logan said.

  Josh moved to the foot of her bed. "I'm listening."

  "Why would I need to keep it secret anymore? It's obvious the killer knows I am a threat to him because he already made a move. But what if there are other people in town who could provide new information? It can't make anything worse and it might help."

  "Exactly what would you want to say?" Evans asked.

  "Just let it be known that my brother was murdered in the summer of 2008, and that I was there and overheard it all go down, but never saw the killer’s face—just heard his voice. Say that all I saw was someone driving away in a white, late-model Chevrolet Silverado, and I came back to find out who did it. Just saying that lets the killer know I can't identify him, so it might get him off my back."

  Wade turned around. "That isn't a half-bad idea. I'm all for anything that would take the pressure off of her."

  "We could divulge that information and see what happens," Logan suggested.

  "You do know that the next question will be what happened to your brother's body?" Josh said.

  Again, Logan had a ready answer. "When it comes to that, then I will make sure gossip gets around that I buried him that night where it happened, but I'm not sure of the location. Then let it be known that we're going to begin looking for the location as soon as I'm better, because I think there's evidence buried with him that might lead to the killer's identity."

  "Is there?" Wade asked.

  "There were bullet casings within the tarp in which I wrapped him. Maybe they'll match the casings you found where I was shot," Logan said. "And in the meantime, the chief can put up trail cameras on the crime scene. I'll show you where it is the minute they let me out of here. Then whoever shows up and starts poking around will add to the evidence proving who killed him, because the killer and I are the only ones who know where he was murdered. You can arrest him, and Wade and I can go home to Dallas."

  Josh couldn't believe he was actually considering this.

  "This will involve the Parish Sheriff, since anything outside of Bluejacket City Limits is out of my jurisdiction, and maybe the Louisiana State Bureau of Investigation, as well. Exhuming human remains takes a certain kind of skill to keep from damaging evidence."

  "Fine. I don't care who's there. I just want to make sure there are people who can make the arrest. Then we can recover the body," Logan said.

  "If there's anything to recover," Josh reminded. "He's in the swamp. Nothing stays below ground for long."

  "I've already been back to the location. He's still there because I told him I'd be back," Logan said. "Just let me do this."

  The chief glanced at Wade, then back at the woman in the hospital bed.

  "You're one tough lady," he said.

  "Not by choice," Logan said.

  "Then I say yes," Josh said.

  "Let me start the revelation," Logan said. "My friend, Caitlin, wants to know what the big mystery is about my return. Let me tell her. She'll spread the news naturally, rather than us making some big announcement that might spook the man we're after."

  Josh nodded. "I like that."

  "Oh, and while I'm thinking about it, what happened to my purse and car keys? My Colt was in that purse along with all my identification."

  "It's in the evidence locker."

  "Thank goodness," Logan said. "I would appreciate it if you could get it to me. I need Caitlin's number."

  "I have her number," Josh said, and pulled it up on his phone and wrote it down for her on a pad of paper. "I'll get your things to you today. As soon as you're able, we'll set up trail cameras." Then he glanced at his watch. "I'd better get back to work, and you need to rest."

  Wade saw him to the door, then came back to the bed and took her by the hand.

  "I'm sorry I butted in."

  She leaned back against her pillow and closed her eyes, but it didn't stop the tears rolling down her face.

  "Oh hell, Logan. Don't cry," Wade said.

  She clutched his hand tighter and shook her head.

  Wade couldn't stand it. He dropped the bed rail and scooted onto the bed beside her. When he did, she surprised him by leaning forward against this shoulder. He didn't have to think about it as he wrapped his arms around her, cradling her head beneath his chin. He felt her exhale softly, and then the tension in her muscles began to ease.

  "If you weren't here, I couldn't be this strong," she said.

  He leaned back enough so he could see her face. Her dark eyes were glittering with tears, and her chin was trembling.

  "Ah honey, I've always been here. You just didn't look," he said, then brushed his lips across her forehead and eased her back down onto the pillow.

  She said nothing as he lowered the head of her bed and straightened her covers, but her gaze never left his face.

  "Sleep," he said.

  She closed her eyes because she had to. It was too scary to look at him as just a man and not a friend.

  While she was sleeping, an officer came by with her belongings, pointing out an added charger cord from the chief so she could charge her phone. Wade thanked him, took the phone and plugged it in to start chargin
g, then put the rest of her things in his bag.

  A nurse came in just before noon with meds, then helped her wash up before the lunch trays arrived. Wade made himself scarce while the nurse was there, but Logan knew he was outside and no farther away than the sound of her voice.

  Not once in the years she'd known him, not even after Andrew's death, had he ever crossed a line beyond friendship. And yet from what he'd alluded to, he'd loved her all along.

  Part of it made her sad, and part of it was almost exciting. She'd never thought of anyone mattering to her as much as Andrew, but she was coming to realize there were many levels of love.

  Andrew had been the bigger-than-life, love of her life, but his life had burned out too soon.

  Wade was the enduring kind. And after spending the last two years widowed and alone, there was something to be said for love that lasts.

  The nurse paused by her bed. "Logan, is there anything you need?"

  "When is the doctor coming by?" she asked.

  "It will probably be evening. There was some kind of emergency surgery this morning, which changed his normal routine."

  "Okay, thanks," Logan said.

  "Certainly. Food should be here soon. Chicken and dumplings today, and I have to admit, they are actually quite good. Maybe you'll be able to eat a little more this time."

  "I'll try," Logan said, then saw her phone was charging on the table beside her bed. Chief Evans had made good on his promise.

  Wade came in carrying two cold cans of Pepsi and two Snickers candy bars.

  "Oh my gosh! Real food," Logan said.

  Wade laughed. "No. Real junk food, which is what we eat on the job, right? You can have the cold Pepsi now, but save the candy for after you eat. They’re already handing out food trays on this floor."

  "Deal, and thank you," she said, and took a drink of the cold pop. "Mmm, good and cold, and still has the fizz."

  He was watching the way her nose wrinkled from the spritz of carbonation in the drink and thought she was beautiful, then purposefully made himself change the subject.

  "Your stuff came while you were asleep. The chief also sent you one of his charging cords so you could recharge your phone. I plugged it in while you were sleeping. Your other things are in my bag."