Marshall's Law

by Denise A. Agnew

  Aunt Lucille’s smile widened and she joined in the mirth. Soon she had Dana giggling and the two of them hooted while a couple also seated in the waiting room stared at them like they’d lost their sanity.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Marshall followed Logan into Gregory’s room, his thoughts geared toward making Gregory spill his guts. A rumble of thunder heralded another storm, and he thought for a second about Dana and her phobia.

  I hope she isn’t frightened. While he knew she was strong, he found it difficult to force back his protective feelings. His thoughts lanced him, burning hot in a way he never expected, ripping him as much as if he’d been stretched on a rack.

  Skeeter sat in a chair next to Gregory’s bed, flipping through an entertainment magazine with an air of boredom. Skeeter rose from the chair when Marshall and Logan appeared, his expression nervous. Gregory lay in bed with his eyes closed and Marshall wondered if the man had fallen asleep.

  “Now ain’t that a pretty sight?” Logan asked.

  “He’s been out of it for awhile,” Skeeter said, tossing the magazine on the small bedside table.

  “I’m not asleep.” Gregory opened his eyes, leftover pain evident in his tight mouth and rasping words. “And I’m not talking to any more cops.”

  “I’m not a cop,” Logan said, crossing his arms. He turned on his don’t-mess-with-me look. His dark hair hung loose around his shoulders, giving him a feral mien that had scared more than one suspect out of their minds. “So you can talk to me.”

  Gregory blinked. “Then you have no authority to ask me questions. Who are you anyway? Larry, Curly or Mo?”

  Logan leaned on the railing alongside Gregory’s bed. “Look, I’ve dealt with South American drug lords with far bigger orifices than yours, and believe me your ass isn’t big enough to hide in. So don’t even try it.”

  Skeeter laughed. Gregory blinked again, his mouth dropping open slightly.

  Marshall smiled, giving Logan his due. He’d forgotten how intimidating his friend could be. “I don’t know, Metcalf. You’d better listen to him.”

  Gregory tried to look unimpressed, but Marshall could see the uncertainty in his eyes. “So if you aren’t a cop, what are you?”

  “D.E.A.,” Logan said, his words clipped. “Don’t. Even. Ask.”

  Skeeter chuckled again.

  Gregory’s face screwed up in disgust. “Very funny.”

  Logan looked at Marshall and asked in a deadpan voice, “I thought it was hilarious. Didn’t you think it was amusing?”

  “Hysterical,” Marshall said, unable to hide a slight grin. “Now that we’ve got that straight, we need to know several things in rapid order, Metcalf.”

  “No way. If you think you can intimidate me—”

  “Oh, we can do more than intimidate, believe me,” Marshall said.

  Marshall stared him down, hoping it would work as it had before. He moved to the left side of the bed and increased his glare. “I’m not standing this close to you because I think you smell nice. I would think a smart guy like you would realize your silence isn’t buying you anything but a bad rep.”

  Gregory snorted. “People in this town respect me.”

  “I suppose they’ll also understand when word gets around that you refused to assist the law with an investigation.”

  “It doesn’t matter. As soon as I’m out of this sorry excuse for a hospital gown I’m out of Macon too. You won’t see me again.”

  “What are you running from? Your guilt? You can’t escape it by leaving a town, Metcalf. Guilt clings to you like flies on carrion.”

  “You’re a bastard. I don’t see what my little stepcousin sees in you. She must be nuts.”

  Marshall bristled. “Leave her out of this.”

  Gregory’s smile held triumph. “What did she do? Tell you to get out of her pants? Or maybe you haven’t gotten there yet? How do you like rejection? Doesn’t feel too good, does it?”

  Marshall tried to stem his own anger at this scumbag’s assertions. Struggling with his professional demeanor, he decided the best route in dealing with Gregory lay in not reacting to personal attacks. “Doesn’t it seem odd to you that you get slashed and then someone shoots your brother on the very same night?”

  “Yeah, I do think it’s suspicious. But I don’t see the Sheriff’s Department doing anything but harassing me,” Gregory said, his voice laced with arsenic. “For the last time, I don’t know diddly about what happened to my brother. Wouldn’t surprise me if some girl he’d messed with decided to off him.” Gregory sniffed. “I just want out of here and away from my crazy relatives—Lucille and Dana talking about screwing ghosts. Give me a break.”

  Marshall smiled. “Oh, believe me, the screwing ghosts are real.”

  “What?” Gregory asked.

  “Never mind,” Marshall said. “I will find out the truth, no matter how long it takes. And it won’t matter, Metcalf, if you’re out of town when I do it. I’ll find you, and you will be brought to justice if you have any part in what has been happening.”

  “Gee, so nice of you to care about me. It’s not like I’m not a victim here.”

  Marshall shrugged and stepped back from the bed. “You’re about as far from a victim as it gets.” Marshall tipped his baseball cap to the man in the bed. “See you around. And as they say in the movies, don’t leave town.”

  As they left the room and Skeeter went back inside to keep an eye on Gregory, Logan asked, “You’re kidding about the ghosts, right?”

  Marshall felt heat rising in his face and hoped his friend wouldn’t notice. “D.E.A, Logan. D.E.A.”

  “Hey, what mischief are you ladies cooking up?” a deep male voice asked Dana and Aunt Lucille. Eric strode into the waiting area, looking handsome in his white medical coat.

  Dana immediately thought of Kerrie and wondered if Eric had heard from her. It still hurt that they’d parted on bad terms. Dana hoped when all the shenanigans in Macon resolved she could touch base with her old friend and mend their friendship.

  Aunt Lucille stood and gave him a hug. “We were just discussing the ghosts in my house.”

  Eric gave her a cock-eyed grin. “I dunno. I’m a man of science. I’m not sure I believe in things like that.”

  Aunt Lucille patted him on the arm and smiled with conspiracy twinkling in her eyes. “Not to worry. Dana and Marshall thought of a way to get rid of the ghosts.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Oh, yeah?”

  Dana gritted her teeth and smiled at the same time, feeling like her face would stretch out of shape.

  Aunt Lucille nodded. “Complicated process.”

  “Very scientific,” Dana said, then realized she’d dug a deeper hole for herself. Good going, dunce. Next you’ll be confessing the whole thing. Keep your trap shut.

  Luckily Eric approached the whole thing like a man, and that meant the finer subtleties seemed to go right over his head.

  Eric sat down next to Dana. “I heard from Kerrie last night. She said she’d call you, but I’m not sure when.”

  “Oh, good.” Dana sighed with relief. Maybe, if her old pal wanted to speak with her, their friendship couldn’t have been damaged too much. “Is she having a good time?”

  He shrugged. “You know Kerrie. The eternal optimist. I think she would have a better time if she knew you were out of danger.”

  “When I talk to her I’ll tell her not to worry,” Dana said.

  “Good luck.” Eric smiled. “So is Marshall upstairs with Gregory?”

  Dana leaned back in her chair, reaching for her tissue and dabbing at her nose. “That’s why I’m here, tagging along.”

  Aunt Lucille pouted. “Poor dear. You should be home in bed.”

  Eric frowned and leaned forward. “What’s wrong?”

  Gazing at the ceiling in exasperation, then back at Aunt Lucille and Eric, Dana smiled. “Just a cold. I certainly don’t need to crawl into bed over it.”

  All doctor now, Eric placed his hand o
n her forehead. “You’ve got a fever. I would do like your aunt says. Get Marshall to take you home. Do all the usual things. Drink lots of fluids. Take a pain killer. Sleep.”

  “Yes, doctor,” Dana said, then sneezed.

  “See, he knows what he’s talking about,” Aunt Lucille said, crossing her arms as if Dana might refute it.

  A moment later Marshall and Logan appeared. Dana felt her heart stumble and do a dip at the sight of Marshall.

  After greeting Eric, Marshall stood with hands on his hips. “Gregory maintains he doesn’t know who stabbed him or who shot his brother.”

  With a disconsolate sigh Aunt Lucille sank back in her chair. “Oh dear.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Dana said, realizing she sounded like a grumbling child. “Macon is one big barrel of fun. This place could compete with Peyton Place.”

  Dana sneezed. Then sneezed again.

  Logan chuckled. “Hey, Marshall, you’d better get Dana home. She’s got a cold.”

  Aunt Lucille patted Dana’s shoulder. “And with that pneumonia you had recently you shouldn’t take chances.”

  “I’m fine,” Dana said, feeling a wave of heat pass over her. Yep, she had a fever all right, and she did feel like doo doo. “Nothing a little vitamin C and a nap won’t take care of.”

  Marshall sank down in the chair next to her. “I need to stop by the office first. Can you last that long?”

  Dana nodded. “Sure. No problem.”

  The P.A. system squawked. “Dr. Dawes to X-Ray, please. Dr. Dawes to X-Ray.”

  “Gotta go,” Eric said as he popped up from the chair. “Maybe when Kerrie gets back we can all have dinner together?”

  Dana shook her head. “I probably won’t be here. As soon as this whole mess is over, I’ve got to get back home and finish my book.”

  In that moment Dana saw several emotions swing through Marshall’s face, none she could be one hundred percent sure she understood. One emotion, though, seemed to stand out.

  Disappointment.

  Dana wore a simple turquoise, long sleeved suede-like tunic and matching pants as she stepped into Marshall’s living room. He was nowhere in sight, so she glanced out the window and marveled that the storm clouds hadn’t burst. They had hovered over Macon like dark harbingers all day, making her nervous and half expecting a lightning strike to slam close to her any minute.

  She couldn’t recall the last time she’d felt this jumpy. As she turned away from the window and slumped on the couch, memories assaulted her. Marshall leaning over her, his tantalizing scent, hot expression and seductive words almost causing her to self-combust.

  Another surge of heat overtook her, but this time it couldn’t be fever. She sneezed then took out a fresh tissue.

  When Marshall emerged from the hallway, Dana didn’t know if she could take the heart palpitations as he strode toward her. He’d decided to wear a dark gray suit with a power red tie. His clothes fit like tailor made, and he looked so delicious her throat almost closed up.

  God, the man could make me come by just looking at me. She felt her jaw go slack and was helpless to do anything about it. A wave of love slipped through her. “Marshall, you look…”

  He continued forward until he stepped close, forcing her to inhale his warm masculine scent. “Like an idiot?” One corner of his mouth twitched up. “Go ahead and say it. I know you want to.”

  “No. Not at all. You look so handsome it makes my heart stop,” she said breathlessly.

  Damn. Oh, damn, I can’t believe I just said that.

  His face warmed into an unexpected, sexy grin that added to her heart’s mad thumping. With assured male ego, his gaze coasted over her face and the rest of her body. “And you’re beautiful. So beautiful I—”

  She felt the heat and the gentleness hang in a balance, teetering on precarious ground. If she moved she’d break it. If he moved, he’d break it.

  Marshall moved closer, and she sucked in a breath. Man alive she wanted his kiss so much she could almost taste him. Oh, yes. Please kiss me.

  He made a small groan, and the husky sound reminded Dana of the first time they made love. The velvet soft sound of his voice as he’d coaxed her toward implosion. He’d whispered in her ear as he’d pounded into her, gasping her name and urging her to come. The hot, erotic words had shocked and delighted her all at once. As she stared at him she knew she’d never forget those moments as long as she lived.

  He ran his fingers through his hair. Disappointment surged as he gave her a look with regret written all over it. Regret for almost kissing her? Remorse for not kissing her? She wanted to scream down the house in frustration.

  Marshall checked his watch. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  With a sigh she followed him out the door.

  Dana wasn’t surprised by the number of cars surrounding the community center. They entered the building and people swallowed Marshall in well wishes. Sheriff Pizer and Mrs. Pizer stepped up, eager to congratulate him. Dana faded into the back of the crowd. She loved watching him talk, walk and speak. Simple as that sounded, she found pleasure seeing him praised by others.

  He turned and caught her looking at him, and without warning his dark eyes transformed into pure, smoldering sexual heat. The barnburner gaze lasted for but a few seconds, but she recognized it without fail. She would know that wicked, toe-curling assessment anywhere. He tossed that look at her often enough, even when he’d suspected her of participating in a plot against Aunt Lucille. Sighing with pleasure, she managed to avert her gaze before she went into thermonuclear meltdown.

  She waited until the horde filed into the main area. Folding metal chairs lined the room facing the small stage and podium. From the size of the crowd it would soon be standing room only.

  The mayor snagged Marshall. The thin, balding man with the campaign smile shook hands with Marshall and gave her a passing glance of disinterest.

  “Brennan, you’re finally here. Listen, we’ve got a seat for you right up front with me and Tommy and his parents.” The mayor looked at Dana. “Of course…um…we might have room for one more.”

  Dana felt a twinge of anger at the mayor’s brush off, but she decided she didn’t want antagonism to spoil her enjoyment. She opened her purse and held up the camera. “I’ll stand in the back. Easier to get photos.”

  Showing sure signs of relief, the mayor slapped Marshall on the back.

  After the mayor left, Marshall smiled. He leaned closer and kept his voice low. “Sorry. He can be pretentious. I’ll sit back here with you.”

  She waved one hand in dismissal. “No, no. Go on up there and enjoy the spotlight.” She nodded toward a secluded spot near the pantry area hallway. “I’ll stand back there and take photos.” When he still hesitated, she gave him a grin designed to melt his suit. “Maybe we could have some time alone later?”

  If she thought his earlier smile had caused her heart to go into spasms, his heat-filled eyes made her long for his kiss with everything inside her. “I’d like that. We need to talk.”

  “Sounds serious.”

  “It is. Very serious.”

  Not knowing whether to be worried by his words or enjoy the anticipation of being alone with him once again, she took up position in the back and watched the proceedings.

  Of course the mayor puffed up and added too much pageantry to the ceremony, dragging forward with all the speed of a drunken turtle. As Marshall took the podium, his big grin seemed to encompass the room. She took several pictures in rapid succession, eager to obtain as many good shots as possible.

  A tap on her shoulder startled her and she swung around. Jenny stood there, a look of concern on her face. Jenny’s jeans and T-shirt surprised her. She’d never seen the young woman look anything but elegant.

  Jenny grabbed her arm. “I need to talk to you.”

  “Can’t it wait? I’m taking pictures.”

  “This is urgent.” Dana stepped forward into the narrow hallway and Jenny waved her
farther down the hall. “This way so no one will hear us.”

  Dana frowned, annoyed at the interruption. “Look, Jenny—”

  “This is important. It’s about Tabitha.”

  Concern flashed through her. “Tabitha? Dr. Eric Dawes’ girl?”

  “That’s why they’re not here. Tabitha had an accident on her bike, and she’s been seriously injured.”

  Dana’s heart constricted. “Oh God.”

  Jenny kept walking, reaching an exit door. She opened it and Dana followed, eager for information. “Eric couldn’t reach you guys earlier because it just happened.”

  The door clicked shut behind Dana as they emerged into the dimness of approaching night. Clouds filtered out most of the sun, and a cool breeze blasted through Dana’s hair. Thunder rolled close, and Dana reached for her father’s ring as if it could protect her from nature. Lightning flickered and thunder groaned low.

  Dana didn’t have time to say another word, because Jenny reached inside her jacket and pulled out an evil looking piece of metal. She leveled the gun on Dana.

  “Jenny, what the—”

  “Shut up.” Her mouth curled into a caricature of a smile. Blonde and small she might be, but the gun made her ten feet tall. “One more word and I’ll just shoot now.”

  Dana gave one thought to resisting, using what she knew of self-defense to render Jenny helpless. She didn’t have time to hesitate and wonder why Jenny had pulled a gun in the first place.

  Before Dana could move, the gun came down on the side of her head.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Marshall didn’t think the ceremony would ever end.

  Trying not to squirm in his seat, he almost winced when words of praise were heaped upon him. When the mayor asked him to come up to receive the commendation, his knees had the consistency of rubber. His mouth felt pasty dry.

  The mayor handed him the plaque, reading the inscription.

  For bravery beyond the call of duty.

  That’s all he heard; his heart seemed to be somewhere around his neck. So far he’d managed to make it through the presentation without choking. He spoke a few words of gratitude.