Small Town Justice

by Valerie Hansen

  “Nope. Not a chance.”

  “I figured. Okay. Stay close.”

  “I wish I’d brought Useless so I’d have company,” Jamie said wryly.

  “Yeah, well, unless he was the size of a police dog he wouldn’t be much help.”

  “He warned me about prowlers before.”

  “And bit one. I know, I know. If he’d been big enough to take the guy down I’d give him a medal.”

  “You don’t have to get sarcastic.”

  “Whoa. Hold up.” His arm barred her way like a gate. “Look.”

  “At what? All I see is way too many cars and trucks.”

  “Exactly. So what’s missing?” He waited impatiently until he heard her quick breath.

  “Max’s car. He couldn’t possibly have driven it.”

  “No kidding. So who did?” He elbowed through the crowd with Jamie trailing. Not only was the attorney’s vehicle missing, so was the man’s body!

  A gruff-sounding park ranger confronted Shane. “You the one who called this in?”

  “Yes.” He pointed. “The victim and his car were right over there when we left them.”

  “Why did you do that?”

  Shane fully expected Jamie to say something like, “Well, duh,” so he hurried to answer first. “We weren’t sure Max was going to be the only one shot. Or killed. Believe me, he was dead.”

  “You a doctor?”

  “No, but...” The officer cut him off with a snort of disgust.

  Jamie stepped forward. “If that man managed to drive off with half his forehead missing, he should be in the book of world records.” She displayed her hands and forearms. “Look at me. At both of us. Where do you think we got this?”

  Crime scene bags were quickly produced and scrapings taken from their arms and soiled clothing. After that, Shane and Jamie were left in the backseat of a patrol car while a more thorough search was made.

  “You okay?” Shane asked quietly.

  “I’ve been better. What do you think they’ll do with us? Are we under arrest?”

  “I doubt it. Until they find a body, though, we may be kept in custody.”

  “What do you think happened? Why would anyone bother to move Max? I mean, he’s bound to be found eventually and we’ll be proved right.” She took a shaky breath. “Won’t we?”

  “Probably.” Shane pulled out his phone. “And just in case we are locked up, I think I’d better notify Harlan before they confiscate this.”

  “When you get done with him, call your mother and make sure she promises to take Kyle far away ASAP.”

  “What about Useless? Do you want me to ask her to keep looking after him, too?” The gratitude in her dark eyes warmed his heart.

  “Would you? Would she? I hadn’t thought about keeping him out of trouble, too.”

  “Considering the way Kyle and that mutt took to each other, I imagine they’ll both be delighted. And Mom’s a sucker for whatever her grandson wants. They’ll take good care of your dog.”

  To Shane’s relief, she kept quiet while he made both calls. When he ended the last one and bid his mother goodbye, he noticed that Jamie was staring out the window and into the woods.

  He touched her arm. “Do you see something?”

  “No. No, I was just thinking.”

  “Uh-oh. Dangerous concept.”

  “Actually,” she said pensively, “I was wondering if the shooter might have figured we’d only gone a short distance instead of taking to the highway. If that was so, your truck could have been blocking the road the same as all these vehicles are now.”

  “Meaning?”

  “He could have taken Max’s car to the boat ramp. Do we dare suggest it or will we look guilty?”

  “I think it’s a little late to worry about that,” Shane told her with a slight smile. He banged on the car window with his fists. “Hey! Hey out there! Open up. We have an idea.”

  Repeated efforts were necessary before anyone outside the patrol car paid attention, let them out and actually listened. Once they did, however, it was less than a quarter hour before cars were being jockeyed around to admit a wrecker with a crane.

  “Nice rig,” Shane remarked as it passed. “A bit old but serviceable. Wouldn’t mind having one like it.”

  “You men and your toys,” Jamie grumbled.

  “Women keep useless dogs or cats. Men like rusty metal. It’s genetic.”

  “I wouldn’t know. My father wasn’t very mechanically minded. He was great with crops and ranching, though.”

  “What about your mother? What were her interests?”

  “The same as his, I guess. They worked together to make the farm pay, at least enough to scrape by. Neither one expected to get rich. It’s the lifestyle that matters more than profits.”

  “Did she have hobbies?”

  “You’re trying to distract me, aren’t you? Well, it’s not working,” Jamie said.

  “Actually, I started out to do that. But I got to thinking. People may change their names and try to hide their past, but they still have the same talents and interests. They can’t help it. Wherever your mother went, she’s probably doing some of the same things she used to do, only in a different context.”

  “Milking cows and canning vegetables? I doubt it.”

  “How about cooking for a living? Or maybe working with animals, like in a shelter or at a vet’s?”

  “Without more clues than that we’d never locate her.”

  “No, and we don’t even want to try until all the criminals involved in my dad’s case are in jail. It’s just something to think about.”

  A shout echoed. Then another. One of the firefighters jogged back up the road and motioned to them. “Hey, you two. Follow me. They want you for identification.”

  “I think I’ll stand back and leave that to you,” Jamie told Shane.

  He slipped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Feel free to close your eyes when we get there if you want. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

  Cuddling closer, she wrapped an arm around his waist and leaned in far enough to rest her head partially beneath his chin. “Mister, if you think I’m going to bellyache about that, you’re crazier than you think I am.”

  “I may be the crazy one,” he admitted. “We’re going to ID a body and yet I almost feel like smiling.”

  “I know what you mean. So do I. I suspect it’s because we’re both so happy to be alive.”

  And together, Shane added silently. I’m in real trouble here. When we’re apart I feel as if half of me is missing. That cannot be a good sign. Not good at all.

  * * *

  Apparently, Max Williford’s car had not rolled far after being started down the boat ramp because Jamie Lynn saw no divers in wetsuits. Someone had hooked a chain to the rear bumper of the dark sedan and the tow truck was easing it out of the lake.

  Water poured from every opening. Men with flashlights shined them through the open windows.

  “We’ve got a body,” one of them shouted.

  Standing in Shane’s embrace, Jamie pressed her cheek to his shoulder and pivoted to face him. As long as no one insisted she look at the poor man again, she wasn’t going to volunteer. She knew the image would give her nightmares for years to come.

  What he had managed to tell them was helpful, although incomplete. The only detail still unknown was whether Abernathy’s son, Alan, had been driving the murder car or if Judge Randall’s daughter was the guilty party.

  They were both in hot water, of course. And both had had motive and opportunity. Therefore, it boiled down to the difference between charges of premeditated murder or aiding and abetting. She was certain that neither the judge nor the prosecutor wanted the truth to come out. Therefore, ei
ther could have shot Max—or hired it done.

  She had to loosen her hold on Shane to allow him to step up to the car and view the remains. All he did was nod. That was enough. When he returned to her she could tell he was deeply moved.

  “Are you all right?” Jamie asked tenderly.

  “No.” His arm slipped around her shoulders again and she didn’t back away. “I don’t know how my dad stood it.”

  “It was different for him,” she said. “He saw the sheriff’s job as his calling, the same way I think of caring for young children and you take care of machinery. It’s what we do.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  Shivering from the atmosphere at the scene more than from the evening’s chill, Jamie Lynn forced a smile. She could tell it wasn’t convincing because of the way Shane received it. One eyebrow arched. He didn’t mirror her false mood. Instead, he grimaced.

  “Know what I think?” she asked.

  “I’m afraid to guess.”

  “Ha-ha. All I was going to say is that I think it’s time you called Marsha again and made sure she followed your instructions about Kyle.”

  “Now that’s a good idea.”

  “I have my moments.” When she smiled this time, Shane reciprocated.

  “Yes, you do.” Keying in his mother’s preset number, he held the phone to his ear while still speaking to Jamie. “Do you want to talk to Mom about Useless, too? Give her more instructions?”

  “That would be fine. Thanks.” She watched his face as he listened to the cell phone. Obviously it was ringing on the other end. The problem was, Shane had not begun to converse with anybody and his countenance was darkening.

  “There’s no answer,” he reported.

  “Maybe she forgot it at home. Or they could be in the car and don’t hear the ringtones. How long has it been since your last call?”

  He checked his watch. “Less than an hour. It feels like ages.”

  “I know. Do you think they’d release us if Harlan vouched for us?”

  “It’s worth a try. And while I’m at it, I’ll ask him to swing by my mom’s place and check on them, too.”

  “Smart man.” Jamie’s genuine smile flashed briefly even though their surroundings continued to dampen her spirits. Despite all their problems and the ongoing danger, she was thrilled to have made progress.

  She continued to wonder how the assassins had learned of their meeting with the defense attorney and why they, too, had not been targeted. Marsha would probably claim that God had protected them, and that was certainly a possibility. Yet Jamie felt a growing uneasiness she was unable to explain.

  What was causing it? What should she do? Perhaps their forced inactivity was getting to her. Once they were allowed to head back to Serenity, that nervous sense should ease. At least she hoped so.

  Observing Shane as he spoke with the Fulton County sheriff made her desperately want to pace. She repressed the urge. It wouldn’t help him to see how anxious she was. If she had her way, they’d simply climb into his truck and leave, whether that made them appear guilty or not.

  Shortly after he’d hung up from speaking to Harlan Allgood and pleading their case, one of the officers on scene approached. “We have your names and addresses. You two can go.”

  “Well, that was easy,” Jamie Lynn remarked. “Hey! Wait for me.”

  She caught up to Shane at the truck and opened her own door just as he started the engine. If he had not paused to fasten his seat belt, she would have had trouble securing her own before he hit the accelerator and they sped away.

  “Did Harlan say something that scared you?” The question had to be asked. She held her breath.

  “No. He said he’s going to go check Mom’s house and the farm, too, in case they went there. He told me not to worry.”

  “But you are anyway?”

  Shane nodded forcefully and glanced over at her. “Yes. Aren’t you?”

  This was not the time for evasion or making excuses. The most important person in her life, whether she liked it or not, was asking if she shared his thoughts and feelings. He deserved to hear the truth.

  “Yes,” she said. “I can’t seem to shake a sense of disaster. I was scared all along, but this is different. It started right after they found the car in the lake and it keeps getting stronger. I don’t have a clue where it’s coming from. Or why.”

  The wider gaze he sent her way displayed more than mere concern. It reflected the unnamed fear she’d been unable to pinpoint and gave her goose bumps. Whatever he was thinking, it was affecting him to the core.

  “I have the same bad vibes.” Shane’s hands were gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles glowed white when they drove beneath streetlights.

  “What should we do?”

  “You keep phoning my mother’s house while I concentrate on keeping this rig on the road,” he ordered, tossing her his cell.

  Jamie was relieved to have something helpful to do. I’ll get a hold of Marsha, she’ll tell me everything is fine and I’ll be able to put Shane’s mind at ease.

  The phone began to ring. And ring. Finally it went to voice mail. Jamie covered it and spoke to Shane. “Should I leave a message?”

  “No. She’ll be able to tell it’s us, but not where we’re calling from.”

  “Why keep that from her?”

  It seemed like an innocent enough question until Shane replied, “If someone else has her phone, we don’t want them to know what we’re doing.”

  “If someone else has her phone? Why...?” The unspoken answer lay so heavy in the air inside the cab of the truck Jamie could barely breathe. She knew exactly what Shane was thinking and it was so dire, so impossible to fathom, that she could hardly wrap her mind around it. His imagination had come to the conclusion that his family had met with foul play.

  “No!” She grabbed his forearm. “No. Harlan is on his way. Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”

  Shane remained silent, his focus ahead. He clenched his jaw muscles as tightly as his hands.

  Jamie redialed repeatedly, getting the same results. Finally she laid the phone in her lap. Tears gathered behind her lashes and she hoped her voice would be steady when she said, “I don’t know what else to do.”

  Though he never took his eyes off the winding country road his headlights were sweeping, he did say, “Pray.”

  She wanted to ask him how to make God listen when she felt so inadequate; how to be certain her efforts were good enough. But that was foolish. Nobody could tell her that in a situation such as this or any other.

  Instead, she put herself out there as best she could, called to her heavenly Father the way she remembered Pastor Malloy praying, and trusted the Lord Jesus the way she had as a child.

  It was enough. It simply had to be.

  SIXTEEN

  By the time Shane reached his mother’s house in town, the approach was lit by red and blue strobes.

  Harlan stepped forward to meet him in the driveway. “Settle down, son. They’re not here.”

  “They got away?”

  “Can’t say for sure.” He mopped his sweaty brow with a hanky. “We’re checking the house and grounds. I sent other units out at your place. There’s nobody there, either.”

  “Then why doesn’t Mom answer her cell?”

  “Beats me. Could be we’re gettin’ all excited for nothing. Marsha’s not a helpless granny.” He smiled wryly. “I’d hate to get on her bad side.”

  “She’s a good shot but she’s no army ranger. If somebody got the drop on her she’d do whatever was necessary to protect Kyle and Otis.”

  A shout came from inside the house and a deputy bolted out the front door. “We found the old man. Somebody trussed him up and stuck him in a closet with a dog for company.”
<
br />   “Is he hurt?” Harlan called back.

  “Mad as a wet hen,” the officer replied. “Dog’s not too happy, either. The little stinker tried to bite me.”

  As Shane started for the house, he looked back at his truck to check on Jamie Lynn. She was standing beside it, apparently still trying to reach his mother by phone. Considering the police presence, he was satisfied she was safe enough. He was only one person. He couldn’t look after them all. It was his son who had to come first now. And his mother.

  If anything bad happened to either of them, he’d never forgive himself—or the woman who had drawn him away from them at such a crucial time. Even if she had not actually asked for his help this time.

  * * *

  Jamie Lynn had barely ended her most recent attempt at phoning Marsha when the cell rang. Marsha! It had to be. Praise the Lord!

  She grasped the instrument as if it were a lifeline, which it was. “Hello?”

  “Jamie...”

  “Oh, Marsha, you don’t know how glad I am to hear from you. We’ve been so worried. Shane is frantic. He’s...”

  A deep, raspy voice barked, “Shut up.”

  Startled, Jamie stopped in midsentence.

  “Just listen,” the voice said. “Tell Colton I’ve got his brat and his mama.”

  Jamie Lynn had to lean against the truck to stay standing. Her grip on the cell phone was so slippery from perspiration she nearly fumbled it.

  “Where? Why?”

  “I want the old sheriff’s notes. All of them.”

  “They don’t say anything incriminating.”

  “Let me be the judge of that.” He laughed as if enjoying a private joke. “Yeah. I’ll be the judge. And the jury.”

  In the background, Jamie heard a woman shout, “Don’t do it! He’ll kill us all. He’s crazy!”

  “Shut up,” he roared, and it was followed by the sound of a shot. All Jamie could think of was where that bullet had gone. Who it might have injured. The taste of gall on her tongue was bitter. The notion of another innocent person dying deadened her senses enough to provide the false bravado she needed so desperately.

  “Knock it off. If you shoot your hostages you have nothing left to bargain with,” she said, surprised by how intimidating she sounded. “Tell me where you are.”