“Nope. I guess Mamaw is good and mad at me for lettin’ little Jess get into my stuff.” He cupped his face in his hands. “You’ve gotta believe me. I never intended for the kid to get sick.”
“I don’t want to talk about your problems,” Samantha said after John prodded her with his elbow and shook his head in warning. “All I want to know is who might try to get back at you through me.”
“Why should they do that?” Bobby Joe whined.
“Because one of your buddies apparently thinks you passed something to me and he wants it back.” She held up her hand like a crossing guard stopping traffic when he opened his mouth to speak. “I don’t care what he thinks you gave me or where it really is. All I need is a name. A clue. Something that will help me find Brutus.”
“Who?”
“Her dog,” John interjected.
“Oh.”
“Well?” Samantha was running out of patience. “Look, Bobby Joe, you said you brought the little boy to me because you knew I’d help. I did. We saved his life. Don’t you think you owe me something after that?”
His thin shoulders shrugged. “Yeah. I guess. Just don’t tell nobody where you heard this or my life won’t be worth a plug nickel.”
“I’m already in trouble for keeping my mouth shut because of you, but you have my word.”
“What about them?” the young man asked, pointing to John and Walter.
“We’ll wait outside,” John offered, taking the older deputy by the arm and urging him back down the hallway so they were out of sight without being out of hearing.
As soon as Samantha was ostensibly alone with the prisoner he arose and edged closer to the bars. “I’m about to jump out of my skin here. You got any pills on you? I figure a nurse…”
“No!” She took a step back, careful to stay beyond his reach. “Just level with me so I can go find my dog.”
“Okay, okay. It was worth a try. I don’t know nothin’ about no dog. If I was lookin’ for trouble I’d check that bar out in Moko. You know the one.”
“There’s no bar in Moko,” Samantha argued. “Fulton County’s dry. Nobody sells liquor here.”
“Not in the town,” the young man said, speaking as if he considered her dumber than dirt. “A little past it. Across the Missouri line.”
“You think they’d take my dog all the way out there?”
“How should I know? You wanted to know where I’d go if I wanted to ask questions and I told you.”
“All right. Thanks,” she said, wondering if she’d gotten any information that was even close to the truth. At this rate she was grasping at straws but anything had to be better than just giving up.
After she rejoined her companions and they went back to the small, dimly lit office, Walt bid them good-night and clocked out. There was no one else on duty except Elaine, one of the mutual dispatchers for fire, police and the sheriff, and she was sequestered inside the locked radio room.
“Do you think the kid told you anything useful?” John asked Samantha.
“I strongly doubt it. What do you know about a bar, across the Missouri state line, a little past Moko?”
“Nothing. Why?”
“Bobby Joe said we should ask there about Brutus, but I think he was trying to send us on a wild-goose chase.”
“That’s out of my jurisdiction, anyway. How about visiting his family? They might know who he was hanging around with.”
“True. I don’t know why I didn’t think of doing that sooner.”
“Because you’re too worried to think straight.” John cupped her elbow as he escorted her to his truck. “I’m not at the top of my game, either.” He patted his empty holster. “As you can see.”
“Will you get your gun back when they find Ben Southerland?”
“I sure hope so. I’ve carried that same Glock ever since I got my badge.”
Pausing, she looked him up and down. “Speaking of badges, why don’t we swing by my place and change clothes before we do anything else? Even without a gun, you look way too official for visiting somebody who has a drug addict in their family.”
John rolled his eyes theatrically, his grin wide. “You think?”
* * *
The change of clothing was simplified by the fact that John had already transferred some of his personal possessions to the travel trailer. Therefore, he was not only able to don suitably worn jeans and a T-shirt, he had a holster for his smaller holdout gun that slipped easily into his waistband at the small of his back where it didn’t show.
“About time.” Sam slammed the kitchen door, flew off the porch and joined him in the yard before he had time to fetch her. “Let’s go.”
“I take it you know where Bobby Joe lives,” John said, starting his truck.
“Yes. Head through town, go past the square then take the 395 cutoff. Their home place is that big, old, brick house on the left about five miles out.”
“That description rings a bell. Only I don’t remember the name Boland being associated with it.”
“It’s a long story. Bobby Joe’s two half sisters were taken in by their grandmother, Opal Fox, years ago, but they’re grown now. She added the three teenage boys shortly after you left for Texas.”
“Fox? Any relation to Charlie?”
“I think he may be Opal’s grandnephew or a distant cousin. Why?”
“Because Charlie is a part-time sheriff’s deputy.”
“Well, don’t hold his extended family against him,” Sam warned. “If you did that to every person in this little town you’d soon suspect everybody of something.”
“I suppose you’re right. Charlie has always seemed to be on the up-and-up.”
“Of course he is. I certainly wouldn’t want my reputation to be based on my parents’ actions. It’s bad enough that my dad shows up in jail on a DUI once in a while. He used to phone me to bail him out but I refused often enough that he apparently got the message. He mostly stays home to get drunk these days.”
Her matter-of-fact statement dredged up memories of their past; memories that were poignant even now. Chancing a sidelong glance at her, John noted the jut of her jaw, the stiffness of her spine and the way her hands were clenching the strap of the purse that lay in her lap.
Of course she had a wall built around her emotions. In her position, with her background, who wouldn’t? The sad part was that he had once held the keys to that wall, had had her unfettered, unguarded trust. He knew he had. And he had somehow lost that emotional connection.
Was it all his fault? He doubted it. There were some quirks to Samantha’s personality that had always been hard to anticipate and equally hard to overcome. He knew their current problems were not simply a case of their original disagreement being carried over into the present. That may have been the case when they’d initially met after the hostage crisis in the E.R., but that wasn’t all there was to it now.
She glanced his way and caught him staring. He averted his gaze. This was not the right time for a heart-to-heart with her no matter how strongly he wanted to talk through their differences. That would come later. He could wait. He’d force himself to bide his time, unlike the way he’d acted years ago when he’d kept pressing her to marry and leave town.
It had floored him when she’d refused. Given her recent assertion that she’d believed he was making a mistake, he supposed he could understand her point of view. While he was trying to protect her, she was attempting to do the same thing for him.
What would it take to convince her she was still wrong about his motives? he wondered.
That question made him snort in self-disgust. The first thing he had to do, way before he tried to convince Sam that he was right, was convince himself of it. The way his head was spinning and his em
otions kept taking unexpected roller-coaster rides, he wondered if he had the slightest idea what was truly best.
Would it be kinder to keep his distance? Could he do that? Was he even willing to give it a try?
John nodded to affirm the purity of his motives, yet there remained a niggling uncertainty in his mind that refused to go away. Considering the way he cared for Sam, even now, he wasn’t sure his personal desires were not unduly influencing him.
“It’s that house over there,” Samantha said, pointing off the road. “Slow down and get ready to turn.”
Her words jerked him back into the present and he steeled himself for the coming confrontation. “Okay. I’ll park a ways from the house and walk up. You stay in the truck until I call you.”
“You must be joking.”
“Not at all. I’ll explain what we need and then…”
Sam was already opening the door and preparing to get out as he stopped. The determined look she flashed his way left no room for negotiation.
“Come to think of it, I have a better idea,” John said with a wry grin. “Why don’t we work together?”
She chuckled. “Now you’re making sense. For a change.”
ELEVEN
Weeds in parts of the unkempt yard stood knee-high, some still green, some already drying out and dropping seeds in preparation for the coming winter. In other areas, where the grass had been repeatedly trampled, the dry, clay soil showed through.
Judging by what she could see offhand, Samantha concluded that the house was in desperate need of a coat of paint as well as repairs to its structure.
A couple of mottled-gray, cur dogs roused themselves from a spot beneath the sagging wooden porch and began to bark in chorus.
Samantha wasn’t deterred. “The family knows me,” she told John. “Let me go on ahead. I’ll wave, if and when I need you.”
“You sure?”
“Positive. Give me a chance. I can do this.”
“Okay. Stay outside even if they invite you in. I’ll be right behind you.”
Although the Fox house appeared to be abandoned, Sam knew it wasn’t. Everything had looked pretty much the way it currently did for as long as she could remember.
The dogs greeted her fearless approach as if she belonged there, tucked their stubby tails and lowered their heads in submission, acting embarrassed that they might have failed to recognize an old friend. Speaking quietly she paused only long enough to let them sniff her ankles before proceeding up onto the porch and rapping on the frame of the screen door.
The elderly, bent, arthritic woman who answered her knock gave her a quizzical look before breaking into a grin and pushing open the rickety screen. “Is that you, Samantha? Land sakes, girl. Where you been keepin’ yourself?”
“I work at the hospital, Miss Opal. You remember, don’t you?”
“Ah, that I do.” Her smile faded as she pulled the sides of her sweater tighter and folded her arms to keep the garment in place as she stepped outside. “I heard you was there when Bobby Joe’s foolishness made poor little Jess so sick.”
“Yes. How’s the baby doing?”
“Fine, praise the Lord. Went home with his mama over in Gepp after he got out of the hospital. Looks like everything’ll be okay. All she has to do is go to court to prove she’s a good mother and promise she won’t make the mistake of leavin’ him with somebody like Bobby Joe again.”
Shaking her head slowly, sadly, Opal sighed and continued. “Beats me what happens to kids these days. Bobby was always a follower. I guess he picked the wrong friends. Thank goodness his sisters got married and moved away before it was too late for them, too. I did my best with all my grandkids but some were purely deaf to good Christian teachings.”
Laying a hand of comfort on Opal’s thin shoulder, Samantha asked, “What about his brothers? Are they still staying with you?”
“Only Marty. And Bobby Joe, of course. Jimmy enlisted a couple of months ago and he’s gone off to boot camp. I dearly wish Bobby Joe had gone with him. I know it can be dangerous, bein’ a soldier, but fryin’ his brains with that dope he keeps usin’ has got to be worse.”
Although Samantha assumed Bobby Joe’s history of drug abuse would keep him out of the military, she didn’t argue.
Instead, she leaned to the side to peer into the house. “Is Marty home? I’d like to say hello to him, too.”
“Nope. I reckon he’s at work.”
“Where does he work?”
“Here and there. Times are tough. I told him to stay in school but he wouldn’t hear of it. And now look at him. Can’t hardly find a job, let alone keep one.”
“When do you expect him home?”
The old woman shrugged. “Beats me. He’s usually with Bobby Joe, but since…”
Samantha tensed and once again lightly patted Opal’s shoulder through her snagged, fraying sweater. “I know you did the best you could with all your grandchildren. Anybody can see that. But right now I have a problem and I don’t know who else to ask for help.”
Looking into Opal’s keenly focused blue eyes she caught a glimpse of the strong person who had accepted a responsibility that was not hers and had sacrificed her own comfort to make a home for her abandoned grandchildren.
The older woman reached for Samantha’s hands and clasped them both. “Ask away. If there’s anything I can do to help you I will.”
“I’m afraid it all goes back to when little Jess was brought to the hospital. Somebody seems to think Bobby Joe gave me a package when he was there and they’re doing all kinds of awful things to get me to give it back. Only I don’t have it. I never saw anything like that.”
“What can I do?”
“I don’t really know,” Samantha said. “I was hoping you or Marty might have some idea who was giving me such grief.” Her voice broke and she cleared her throat before continuing. “They stole my dog, Miss Opal. I’d do just about anything to get him back but I can’t hand over something I don’t have.”
“’Course you can’t. You leave this to me. I’ll find out what’s goin’ on or know the reason why. Mark my words, if Marty’s involved he’ll have me to deal with.”
“Thank you,” Samantha said. A solitary tear trickled down her cheek and she swiped it away before signaling John to join them.
“I’d like you to meet an old friend of mine, Miss Opal.”
The wrinkles around her eyes tightened and she peered at him as he jogged up to join them. “Hah! I know you,” she said. “Used to be a scrawny kid.” With a grin she eyed him, head to toe. “Filled out pretty good, if I do say so myself. No wonder Sam’s out and about again.”
John offered his hand and Mrs. Fox took it. “Again?”
“Yep. Haven’t seen hide nor hair of her in years and here she is, right on my doorstep. I figure somethin’ musta changed.”
“I told you. I just want to find my dog,” Samantha insisted.
Opal cackled. “I heard you. See that you stick to that story and maybe other folks won’t think anything of it but I ain’t no fool. I’ve been around the block a few times. I know romance when I see it.”
“You’re wrong,” Samantha said. John echoed her denial.
However, as soon as they bid the elderly woman goodbye and headed back to the truck, they heard her start to chuckle again.
“See what I meant before?” Sam said. “That’s exactly the kind of thing we can expect if we’re seen together too often.”
“Are you trying to tell me to get lost?”
“No! I never meant anything like that. I was just saying…”
“That you don’t relish being seen with me. I heard you loud and clear. And as soon as you get Brutus back and we figure out who’s trying to hurt you, I promis
e I’ll keep my distance.”
That had not been her aim when she’d spoken, yet at this point she didn’t know how to contradict his erroneous conclusion without admitting how she really felt. There had been times since John’s return to Serenity when she had wished he’d stayed away, but those instances were getting more and more rare. Now, she found herself looking forward to seeing him again, to hearing his voice, to feeling the strength of his hand holding hers.
Sneaking a quick peek at him she noted the firm set of his jaw, the stiffness of his posture, the way his strong hands gripped the steering wheel. His feelings were hurt, all right. And she had been the direct cause. Never mind all the times she had cried herself to sleep and blamed him for her unhappiness. That was then and this was now.
Samantha had almost mustered enough courage to try to explain her confused feelings when John asked, “Where to?”
“I don’t have a clue. Should we try the bar Bobby Joe mentioned?”
“No. If anybody goes there it’ll be me. And I’ll be alone. Got that?”
“You don’t have to raise your voice.”
“I wasn’t. I was merely stating a fact.”
“Fine.”
It had occurred to her more than once that she was too reliant on John for many things, including transportation. Whether or not she planned to obey his orders to the letter, she still needed wheels.
Waiting what she felt was a suitable period of time, she finally brought up the subject of the old car Elvina had left in the barn.
“Why don’t we go back home and eat supper? Then, afterward, maybe you can have a look at Elvina’s car for me the way you’d suggested. I can’t afford to buy anything right now and I hate having to ask you to drive me to and from work all the time.”
“Insurance should cover your loss,” John said flatly.
Samantha made a face at him. “It would if I’d had that kind of coverage. After my car was paid off, all I kept was liability.”
“Maybe the department will pay for your car since it was technically in our custody. I’ll ask tomorrow.”
“Thanks.”
Threat of Darkness Page 11