by Carrie Carr
Lex blinked once. "I think I may have." She quickly crossed the room and hefted Amanda into her arms. "Last time I saw it, your pillow was in the bedroom. Shall we go take a look?" A few short steps, and she was able to gently place her on the bed. "Now," Lex murmured as she covered the smaller body with her own, "can you describe the missing pillow for me?"
Amanda tangled her fingers in Lex's hair. "Well, I guess you could call it a body pillow." Her other hand traced the smooth contours of her lover's face, stopping to brush her fingertip across her lips. "A very good body pillow, in fact." She continued to trace a path down Lex's throat with the fingertip, stopping at the collar of the tee shirt Lex wore. "An overdressed body pillow." She tugged on the material.
"Really?" Lex pushed herself back to rest on her knees. She grasped the bottom of the gray tee shirt and began to slowly pull it up. "Does this help?" she asked as her body was exposed to view.
"Oh, yeah," Amanda growled, reaching up and stroking the soft skin.
Lex felt cool fingers reach sensitive areas and shivered slightly. "Umm...where were we?" she stammered. Her body was pulled back onto the woman beneath her.
"Right about here," Amanda muttered, her mouth suddenly taking over for her hands.
"Mmm, right." Lex quickly forgot the game and concentrated on more serious matters.
AS HE SCANNED the papers spread out across the desk, Deputy Richards shook his head. "What would these two guys have to do with Rick Thompson? I didn'st think any of them hung out in the same places." The report showed the phone numbers belonged to Hubert Walters and Robert Sammons, two men who had absolutely nothing in common the deputy could detect.
Hubert was an accountant, drove an expensive car, and played poker once a week with several of the town's city councilmen.
Robert Sammons was an unfamiliar entity. He had lived in Somerville for a year, working as a supervisor for a heavy construction firm and keeping to himself. He had been arrested once for throwing a man through a plate glass window in a bar fight, but other than that had not been in any trouble. For some reason the other man had refused to press charges, and he was let off with a fine--which he had paid.
"Why would Thompson have this guy's phone number? He worked in a grocery store, for God's sake." Deputy Richards had sent a couple of men to Sammons's apartment to question the man, but they were told by his landlord he hadn'st been home for a couple of days. He was going to talk to Hubert, deciding to go to the man's house after he talked to the sheriff. Jeremy picked up the phone and dialed Charlie's home phone number. After several rings, the sheriff answered.
"Sheriff Bristol speaking."
Jeremy breathed a sigh of relief. He sounded like his usual self, and he concluded Charlie's demeanor had a lot to do with his wife. "Good morning, Sheriff. I don't mean to bother you so early, but I wanted to update you on the investigation from last night."
"What did you find out?"
"Thompson's sister claimed he was a deadbeat, and she kicked him out of her house because he kept getting mysterious phone calls at all hours. So I went to his apartment." Jeremy suppressed the urge to bathe at the memory of the landlady. "It was a dump. We may need to contact the fire department about a surprise inspection. I don't think anything there is up to code."
"I'll talk to the fire chief later. What else?"
The deputy cleared his throat. "After I sorted through all the debris in the apartment, I found an envelope by the telephone with a couple of phone numbers on it."
"Good. Did you run them?"
"Sure did. One number belonged to a guy name Robert Sammons. He works for Big Cat Construction and has only lived in town for about a year. But the big surprise was the other number."
"You going to tell me sometime today?"
"Oh, sorry. The other number goes to Hubert's house."
"Hubert? As in Hubert Walters?" Charlie asked, his voice rising.
Martha heard her husband's exclamation. She stepped out of the kitchen to sit on the arm of Charlie's chair and put one hand on his neck, rubbing gently.
"Damn. This keeps getting better and better." Charlie relaxed under her ministrations, but he was still confused what Hubert had to do with Rick. "Has anyone gone to question Hubert? I'd like to find out why Rick would have his phone number."
"Not yet, Sheriff. I thought I'd tell you what's going on, and then I was going to go talk to him myself."
Charlie leaned back into his wife's gentle touch and closed his eyes. "You do that, Jeremy. Take another deputy with you, though. I want this done by the book."
"Got it. Will you be in the office later?"
"Uh, no. My wonderful wife has convinced me to stay at home today. Give me a call here later."
"You got it, Sheriff. Give Martha my best."
THE KNOCKING ON his front door woke Hubert from a sound sleep. "Go way," he yelled, rolling and falling off the sofa. "Fuck." The knocking continued, and he stood and rubbed at his gritty eyes. He had fallen asleep in the living room while watching television; a half-empty bottle of bourbon sitting on the coffee table was his only companion. "Hold your horses, I'm coming." He jerked open the front door and his heart began to pound. Standing on the front porch were two deputies. "What the hell do you want?"
Deputy Richards stepped forward and tipped his hat. "Good morning, Mr. Walters. We'd like to have a moment of your time, if we could." He was determined to follow the procedures step by step, in case Hubert had any illegal involvement with the deceased man.
"Why? What did my damned sister do this time?" Hubert struggled to zip up his wrinkled slacks. "She blaming me for something else?"
"No, sir. May we come in and discuss it with you?"
"I don't think so. Say what you came for, and leave." He held his shirt closed and glared at the two men. "Well?"
Jeremy pulled out his notebook and looked at it, even though he knew exactly what he wanted to say. "Are you familiar with a Richard Thompson?"
"Yeah, why? He in some sort of trouble?" Hubert crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorframe.
"I suppose you could say that, Mr. Walters. He's dead." The deputy almost enjoyed the way the other man's face paled.
Self-preservation quickly kicked in. For all he knew, Bobby went crazy and took Rick out of the picture completely. He was terrified he was next on the deranged man's list. Hubert thought frantically. "You'sve got to protect me," he pleaded. "It's not my fault."
Both deputies looked at the suddenly sweating man. "Protect you? From whom?" Jeremy asked, exchanging quick glances with the other deputy. "Why?"
"Bobby. He's crazy, I tell you. The man misunderstood me, and look what's happened. I could be next."
"Mr. Walters, calm down. Why would this Bobby fellow be after you? And why do you think he had anything to do with Mr. Thompson's death?" Jeremy tilted his head to Russell, who turned around and walked back to the cruiser.
Hubert stepped outside and grabbed Jeremy's arm. "Rick called him for me. I wanted someone to scare my sister. Kind of like a little joke. But the crazy son of a bitch took it too far. He almost killed her." He was sweating profusely, the expensive gray shirt becoming stained with perspiration. "It wasn'st my fault."
Jeremy pried the frantic man's hands from his arm, closed the front door of the house and led Hubert to the car. "Whatever you say, Mr. Walters. Why don't you come with us?" He had gotten what amounted to another confession from the petrified man, and didn'st want to take a chance on Hubert calming down and realizing what he had said. "Come on. We'll take good care of you."
"Don't let him hurt me," Hubert whimpered, as he quickly climbed into the back of the deputy's car. "Bobby's crazy!"
"You'll be safe with us, Mr. Walters," Jeremy assured him. "We'll put you somewhere he'll never be able to get to you."
Chapter Eighteen
"YOU WHAT?" CHARLIE bellowed over the phone. He looked over his shoulder and gave his wife an apologetic look, wiping one hand down his face.
/> Deputy Richards had to pull the phone away from his ear in self-defense. He was sitting at his desk, and had called the sheriff to update him on the situation. "He practically begged me to, Charlie. The man was a blubbering idiot. I told him we had to book him before we could put him in a cell. He was okay with that."
Hubert Walters was begging for protection the last time the deputy had seen him. He was afraid Bobby Sammons had something to do with Rick's death, and feared the big man was coming after him next. Even after being apprised of his rights, the accountant proceeded to tell the two deputies in the car with him how Bobby had tried to kill Lex. He admitted to knowing about the attempt after the fact, but continued to plead his innocence on the pre-planning of the incident.
"You're telling me you'sve booked Hubert Walters on the charge of conspiracy to commit murder, and he's not throwing a fit? And you got a second confession from him? This certainly changes things."
"Do you want me to call the prosecutor? I'm sure he'll be interested in these latest developments."
"No, I'll do it. Have you had any luck in finding this Robert Sam-mons? I don't like the idea of him out there running loose." Charlie put on his boots and was in the process of clipping on his gun belt. "I'm on my way in, Jeremy. Have every available man out looking for this guy."
"You got it, Sheriff. Anything else?"
Charlie stood. "Yes. Contact Hubert's lawyer, and have him meet me in my office. I'd like to question his client about all of this."
"Will do. See you in a while." Jeremy quickly hung up his phone, wanting to call the lawyer so he could get back out on the streets.
Martha stood in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest. "Did I hear you right? You're going to work today?" She should have known her husband couldn'st stay at home for long.
"I'm afraid so. Crazy Hubert has confessed again to having something to do with the girls's accident. He seems to think the guy who ran Lex off the road also caused Rick's accident, and he's afraid he's next." Charlie walked to where his wife was standing. "I want to go in and talk to Hubert. Maybe we can get enough out of him to catch this guy."
"I hope so." Martha studied his face carefully. Charlie appeared to be fine this morning, with no ill effects from his near-death experience the night before. "Are you feeling up to driving in?"
"I feel fine. But I am concerned about the fellow who is running around loose. Why don't you come in with me, and we'll see if the Caubles and Travis want to join us for lunch?"
"Charlie Bristol, you're not trying to tell me you think he'll come out to the ranch, are you?" Her hands went to her hips in an angry gesture. "I've lived out here for twenty-five years, and I've never been afraid. I'm not about to start."
He ran one hand down Martha's arm to calm her. "Please, humor me this one time, will you? If I didn'st think the girls were safe out at the lake, I'd send a man out to warn them. But the immediate family are the only ones who know where they are, and I don't think any of us will be talking."
"I understand you're concerned, Charlie. But surely this man realizes you're looking for him. He's probably already on his way out of the state, if he has any sense." Martha decided being mad at her husband was pointless and snuggled up in his arms instead. "Lexie promised to take her cell phone. Should we give her a call?"
The sheriff thought quietly for a moment, enjoying the feel of Martha in his arms. Lex and Amanda were safe where they were, and if he called them, they would more than likely return early. "No. They'll be back tomorrow. There's no sense in bothering them before then." At least he hoped so.
LEX AND AMANDA had decided to forgo fishing, and laze on a blanket near the water. Amanda was propped up between Lex's legs, with Lex's arms wrapped loosely around her. With a sigh of contentment, she leaned back. "Mmm. I never thought lying around in the sun would feel so good."
"Me, either. I'm not going to want to leave tomorrow." Lex's eyes were hidden by her baseball cap. Her head was tilted forward, and her cheek rested against Amanda's head.
Amanda craned her neck and tried to see her face. "You mean it? You're not all twitchy to get back to the ranch?"
"No, I'm not. This feels too good." Lex pushed the cap back slightly, so she could see Amanda's face more clearly. "We'sve got a lot to do, like moving back into the house, but I can'st seem to make myself worry too much about it."
"That's not a bad thing."
"It is for me. I guess I've gotten lazy in my old age."
Unable to help herself, Amanda laughed. "Yeah, right. You'sve got a long way to go before you convince me." She stroked the shadowed face. "Maybe we can come back sometime for a weekend."
Lex was quiet for a long moment. "Maybe so." She had lain awake the previous night, thinking about how nice the cabin had been for a quick getaway. She wondered if Sherry's mother would consider selling it. "Do you like it here?"
"I love it," Amanda answered quickly. She loved the relaxed look on Lex's face. "And I especially love the effect it's had on you."
"Yeah?" Lex leaned into the touch and closed her eyes. "It has been nice, hasn'st it?" She tugged Amanda close and nuzzled her neck. "It's not far from town, but it's so quiet and peaceful here, it seems like we're a long ways away. I wonder if we'sve missed anything interesting."
THE BEIGE POLICE cruiser drove into the construction site and skidded to a stop in the loose gravel around the office trailer. Deputy Richards stepped out of the vehicle and looked around. Men hurried from place to place, no one looking up from their work to acknowledge the lawman's presence. Jeremy took a deep breath and climbed the rickety steps to the trailer. Once the door had closed behind him, two men with nervous looks on their faces stepped from the shadows nearby.
"Aw, jeez, Benny. You think he's here looking for us?" the smaller man asked his friend as they peered around the edge of the trailer. "I don't want to go to jail."
The heavier man punched him in the arm. "Shut up. He could be here for all sorts of reasons, you idiot." He took the other man farther behind the office, where they could stand under an open window and listen to the conversation inside.
"I haven'st seen Bobby Sammons for almost a week," the voice of the foreman complained. "He left a message on my answering machine about four days ago, saying he had some personal business to attend to. What do you need him for, anyway?"
"We have reasons to believe he was involved in a hit-and-run on New Year's Eve. Are you missing any vehicles?"
"As a matter of fact, we are. Bobby had borrowed one of our flatbeds for his personal use, and I haven'st seen it around in months. don't tell me the son-of-a-bitch wrecked it."
Outside, Benny looked at the other man, whose eyes were wide with alarm. He grabbed a skinny arm and dragged his henchman away from the window. "Not one word, Rusty."
"Damn that Bobby! It was supposed to be fun, he said. And now we're going to jail." Rusty jerked his arm free. "You know what happens to guys like me in jail, Benny? I'm going to be real popular." He rushed to where his lunchbox sat on a wooden table and gathered up what was left of his meal. "I don't want to be some big guy's girlfriend, Benny."
"Calm down, you ass! You're going to draw attention to us." The big man poured out the remainder of the coffee in his thermos and picked up his jacket. "We're not going to jail, Rus. Come on." He motioned for the other man to follow him to a beat up truck. "Let's get the hell out of here."
Rusty climbed in the other side of the truck, kicking several empty food containers out onto the ground. "Works for me. I never liked this damned job, anyway."
"I want to thank you for your time," Deputy Richards told the foreman, as the two men walked down the steps in front of the office. "If you happen to see or hear from Mr. Sammons, please give us a call."
The construction boss shook his hand. "I sure will, Deputy." He looked up as Benny's truck sped away from the site. "Where are those two idiots off to? It's downright impossible to find good help these days. I can'st keep guys on the job."
Jere
my tipped his hat. "Well, thanks again, sir. Good luck." He climbed into his car and drove away from the construction site, more convinced than ever Robert Sammons was up to no good.
"SHERIFF, I HOPE you have a good explanation for dragging me down here so damned early." Kirk Trumbull wasn'st used to getting out of bed until after noon. He tried to pull his pants up over his protruding belly as he stomped into Charlie's office. Dropping his large frame into a nearby chair, the lawyer groaned in relief. "If your people don't quit bothering my client, I'll file a harassment suit against your entire department."
Charlie stood. "Don't get too comfortable, counselor. I'd like to have a little chat with your client since you're here." He walked to the door and opened it. "Hubert confessed. Again. Maybe you should worry more about him and less about my department." The sheriff waved a hand in front of his body, indicating the lawyer should precede him. "After you."
Before he opened the door to the interrogation room, Kirk turned around to address Charlie. "Would it be possible for me to have a word alone with him, first?"
"Sure. I'll stand here at the window. Give me a little wave when you're ready."
"Thanks." Kirk turned around and stepped into the small room. "Hubert? What the hell is going on?"
The big man jumped to his feet, his wrinkled shirt and slacks attesting to his preoccupation with other matters. Hubert was normally so concerned about his appearance that his expensive suits spent more time at the dry cleaners than in his closet. "It's about damn time you got here, man. I need you to get hold of the prosecutor and accept the deal he offered."
"Deal? What deal was that, Hubert?" The overweight lawyer lowered himself into the chair across from where his client stood. "Are you talking about the deal I had worked so hard on before you opened your big mouth?" He kicked out the other chair. "Sit, dumbass. Let's see what I can salvage from this mess." Kirk turned slightly and waved at the mirror. "Might as well see what the sheriff has to say. But you," he pointed a shaky finger in Hubert's direction, "keep your god-damned mouth shut unless I tell you otherwise, understand?"