She stared at him. Did she dare tell him one of her deepest fears?
Clay leaned in. “Just say it, Sabrina.”
“I think—” She paused. “I think I may have sent your brother to his death.”
FIVE
She blurted the words, then bit her lip and reared back against the booth as though she thought he might hit her.
Clay didn’t move for a split second. Then he sucked in a steadying breath. “What?”
She dipped her head, then reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose. “That was a really bad way to put it.”
“Tell me.”
“As they say, hindsight is twenty-twenty. The day before he died, we talked. I told him about a family I’m working with. Jordan’s family.”
He stiffened. “Tony and Maria’s family.”
“Yes.
“The mom has custody, but they stay with their grandparents sometimes. I couldn’t get ahold of them tonight, which is why the kids are with your parents.”
“Okay.”
“The mom just got custody back and I make regular visits to check in on them, but that day I was going to see if Maria wanted to come be a part of the church play. They don’t live too far and—” She waved a hand. “Anyway, when I got there, Jordan wasn’t home, but Maria took me back to her bedroom. When I passed Jordan’s room, I thought I saw some kind of pipe on his dresser.”
“Okay.”
“Knowing the history of drug abuse in the family, I asked Steven to investigate it. Quietly. Because if it wasn’t true, I didn’t want to isolate the family. They were just starting to trust me, and if I were to start accusing their grandson of using or dealing drugs, all of my hard work would be down the drain.”
Daisy Ann placed a platter of fries in front of them along with two hamburgers and a chocolate shake neither had ordered. “What’s this, Daisy Ann?” Sabrina asked.
“You know Billy. He said you needed fattening up.” She turned to Clay. “I just happen to like you.” She shrugged. “Milk shakes are on the house.” She put two straws on the table and Sabrina tried to will the flush to stay out of her cheeks.
Daisy Ann left and Sabrina concentrated on her hamburger.
“Fattening up?” Clay asked.
Sabrina snorted. “And she likes you. How about that?” She sighed and put her hamburger down. She wiped her mouth. “Billy’s like a father to me. He thinks I don’t eat enough and every time I come in here, he sends something fattening over to me. Looks like Daisy Ann thinks you deserve equal treatment.”
Clay’s gaze roamed her features. “Well, I think you’re just about perfect, if my judgment’s worth anything,” he said softly.
The flush swept into her cheeks and there wasn’t one thing she could do about it. She cleared her throat. “Thanks.”
His softness disappeared. He shook his head. “So what did Steven say?”
“That he would check on it.”
“And?”
“And he came by my house that night. He said he thought I might be right, that something was going on in this town that was bigger than either of us imagined. I asked him what. He said he didn’t want to say anything yet, but he’d tell me soon. Then the next day he was dead,” she whispered. She met his gaze. Tears swam to the surface and she blinked. “Was it my fault? Is he dead because I asked him to look into it?”
Clay drew in a deep breath. “Of course it’s not your fault. He’s dead because some lowlife killed him.” He wiped his mouth. “But if there’s a connection between your request and the reason he’s dead, you can be sure I’m going to find out.”
“I later asked Jordan about the pipe, and at first he said it was his. I told him I knew it wasn’t, because I’d seen him a lot and he hadn’t been high. He finally confessed that it belonged to his mother, but he said he told her to get rid of it and she did.” She paused. “I’m still not sure that’s the truth, but I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt for now.”
Sabrina could tell his mind was on the family she’d just told him about. He asked for the address and she gave it to him. “You’re not officially investigating Steven’s death, are you?”
“Nope. I’ve been forbidden. Conflict of interest and all that.”
“But you’re going to talk to them anyway, aren’t you?”
He hesitated. “We’ll see. I want to at least be there even if I’m not the one officially asking questions.” He tapped his lip. “Will the kids go back to the grandparents’ house?”
She shook her head. “Not if I can help it. Last time they said it was too much for them.” She bit her lip, then blew out a soft sigh. “Let me go with you when you talk to them. They’re more likely to talk to you if I’m there.”
He studied her for a second. “All right.”
“Good.” She nodded, then couldn’t hold back the gigantic yawn. She covered her mouth. “I’m sorry. It’s not the company, I promise.”
He gave her a slow smile. “I understand.”
They finished their food, and Sabrina sat back. Exhausted didn’t begin to describe how she felt. But she couldn’t ignore a niggling question that had bothered her ever since they’d left the hospital. “Lily brought up something I’ve wondered about for a long time. Steven wouldn’t talk about it, but...”
“But what?”
“What happened with Bryce England? I have a hard time believing you would burn down his house.” Clay froze and all the color bleached from his face. “Judging by your reaction, I’d say you probably don’t want to talk about that, so just forget I asked.”
It took him a moment, but he found his voice. “You’re right. I don’t talk about that.” He placed a few bills on the table. “Dinner’s on me.” He stood. “I’ll be in touch.”
Then he was out the door before she could blink.
Okay, so that was definitely the wrong topic to bring up. Sabrina sat alone a few more minutes sipping on the milk shake and wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. When she’d slurped the last drop, she looked up to see Billy grinning at her from behind the counter. She rolled her eyes. “If I wind up with a weight problem, I’m sending you the diet-plan bill.”
Billy chuckled. “You do that, Brina. I’m sure I look like I’m worried.” His dark features contrasted with his white T-shirt. He kept a bandanna wrapped around his Afro. His chocolate-colored eyes snapped with good humor and caring.
“No more milk shakes, Billy.”
“Right, darling. I gotcha.”
Sabrina knew the next time she came in, he’d have one waiting for her. She sighed and rose, looked around the diner and dropped a ten on the table. She knew the diner was struggling and as much as she appreciated the sweet treat, she would make sure she did her part to keep the place open. She caught Daisy Ann’s eye. “See you tomorrow, Daisy Ann.”
Daisy Ann nodded, then frowned. “That yours?”
Sabrina looked at the floor. Clay’s phone had slipped out of his pocket. She snatched it up and raced to the door.
She pushed through the glass door and stood on the sidewalk. He was nowhere in sight, of course. Sabrina stuck the phone in her pocket. He’d miss it soon enough and come looking for it.
A cold wind sent shivers up her spine, but she breathed deep.
Growing up in Wrangler’s Corner had been hard. She’d hated the small town for most of her life and had been desperate to get away. But her grandmother needed her. At least that was what she told herself. The one time she decided to take off on her own had turned into disaster. And just like her mother, Sabrina had come home, tail tucked, defeat a weight she couldn’t seem to shake. She shuddered. She didn’t want to be anything like her mother.
A footstep behind her caught her attention, and she turned. She frowned at her jumpiness. There wasn’t anyone behind her w
ho looked suspicious. Her gaze roamed from face to face. A young couple strolling hand in hand, three teens window-shopping and enjoying the chilly night, and an older couple on the bench under the lamppost.
Nothing that should set her nerves on edge. And yet they were. Sabrina drew in a breath as the hair on her arms raised into goose bumps even beneath her heavy down coat.
The bed-and-breakfast, well lit and welcoming, lay ahead of her up and across the street.
She kept walking down the sidewalk, noting the businesses closed for the day. Few people were on the street and in the cold. She glanced behind her again and saw a young man and woman come out of an antiques store. The interior lights went off. The couple climbed into a red truck and pulled away from the curb.
Sabrina hunched her shoulders against the wind and quickened her pace.
Footsteps picked up behind her once again.
She spun in time to see a figure duck into a side alley near the doughnut shop.
Her stomach twisted.
She wasn’t being jumpy.
Someone was following her.
* * *
Clay stepped on the brakes. His phone was missing. He’d reached for it to call his parents and found his pocket empty. Glad he’d discovered that fact only about half a mile from the restaurant, he checked his mirrors, then did a quick three-point turn.
He tapped the wheel, his mind spinning with several different topics. Bryce England. He didn’t want to think about him. The fire had been ruled an accident, but that didn’t help assuage the guilt that weighed heavy on Clay’s shoulders every time he thought about it. So he wouldn’t think about it. He had other things that had to take priority.
He had a lead on Steven’s murder, and he had to decide what to do with it. He knew he should turn it over to Ned, but Clay wanted to talk to the family himself. If he told Ned what Sabrina had revealed, Ned would refuse to let him get anywhere near that family.
His conscience warred with his desire to be at the center of the investigation. He turned onto Main Street and thought he saw Sabrina hurry across the street toward her home. What was she still doing out? He would have thought she’d have been tucked inside the B and B long before now.
A figure darted behind her and, when she spun, ducked next to the building.
Clay frowned. Was he following her?
Sabrina made it to the porch of the B and B and turned once again to look over her shoulder.
Nothing moved. If someone was following her, he stayed hidden. Clay flipped on his blue lights. Sabrina jerked to look toward him. Fear mingled with relief showed on her face even though he knew she couldn’t see him.
Clay caught movement from his passenger window and saw a dark-clad figure slip away into the night. He climbed from his vehicle and gave chase.
“Hey! Police! Stop!”
Clay could hear the person’s fleeing footsteps for a brief moment, then silence. He pulled his weapon and went in search.
The man had darted down Johnson Street. A one-way road about the width of an alley. Clay called it in, requesting one of the deputies to meet him. Lance Goode, the one officer on the force who had seemed glad to have him take Steven’s place, responded. “En route.”
“He cut through on Johnson and may come out on Henry. Keep an eye out. He’s small and wiry and obviously knows this area.”
“Ten-four.”
Clay turned his radio way down and moved forward on silent feet. The suspect knew he was being chased, but Clay wanted to be able to hear without the white noise obliterating anything that would signal danger.
Ears tuned, senses sharp, Clay headed down the street, weapon drawn. “Show yourself!”
A scrape behind him. He whirled.
Saw the pebbles glinting in the dim streetlight. And knew he’d fallen for one of the oldest tricks in the book. Distract and strike.
He ducked and swiveled around. Too late.
The metal trash-can lid caught him in the side of the head.
Pain shot through him, and he went to his knees. His weapon clattered on the ground, and he ignored the pain long enough to roll for it. Running footsteps faded down the street. Darkness threatened. He thought he heard Sabrina call his name.
Then Lance was there. “Clay!”
Clay shook off the ringing in his ears and swallowed at the pounding that now throbbed through his head, making him nauseous. “Ugh.” He managed to holster the gun before collapsing back against the ground.
“Clay,” Sabrina whispered, and dropped beside him. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah. Yeah.” His vision finally steadied, and he held a hand up to Lance, who pulled him to his feet. Dizziness and nausea hit him all over again, and he swayed.
“I’ll call 911,” Sabrina said.
“No,” Clay croaked. “No, I’ll be all right.” He looked at Lance. “I guess he got away.”
“Yeah. Disappeared into the night. I never saw him. Heard the clang and your holler and came running.”
“Great.” Clay drew in a deep breath. His head still swam.
“Come on into the house and lie down for a minute,” Sabrina said.
He wanted to protest, to climb in his car and go searching for the person who’d clocked him, but his head and stomach rebelled at the thought.
He let the two of them lead him to the B and B, up the front steps and into the foyer.
“Sabrina, what’s going on?”
The high-pitched voice had to belong to Sabrina’s grandmother. Clay heard Sabrina respond but couldn’t seem to register the words. He just wanted to be horizontal as soon as possible.
Lance must have sensed the urgency and helped him to the nearest couch. Clay eased himself down and couldn’t stop the low groan that escaped when he reclined.
Sabrina hurried to his side, an ice bag clutched in her hand. “Here.” When she placed it on his head, he winced but left it there. “You really need to see a doctor.”
“Did you know someone was following you?”
“I thought so.” Her frown deepened. “But right now I want to make sure you’re going to be all right. You’re in no condition to drive.”
“I can take him home,” Lance said.
Clay snorted. “I’m not leaving my car.”
“My granddaughter is right. You need a doctor. I’ll call Daniel. He’ll come right over.” She hurried off, and Clay groaned again. Not in pain but because he knew he’d be seeing the doctor. He glanced at Sabrina. “A house call? Who does that these days?”
“Everyone owes Granny May a favor.” She shrugged. “Besides, she’s right. You need someone to look at your head.”
Clay bit back another protest. He knew it wouldn’t matter. Besides, he had another worry to deal with. “Lance, would you be willing to work with me on something?”
Lance eyed him. “Depends on what you’re talking about.”
The other six deputies in the department hadn’t been exactly welcoming when they’d learned the sheriff had asked him to fill Steven’s position on a temporary basis. Steven had been one of them, and his loss grieved them in a big way. Just because Clay was his brother, didn’t mean they wanted him there.
Familiar guilt hit Clay, and he took a deep breath. He had to do the right thing. “I’m talking about a lead on Steven’s murder.”
Lance’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of a lead?”
Clay ignored the throbbing across the right side of his head and focused on Lance. He sensed he had Sabrina’s full attention, too. “I mean, Steven went to see a family the day before he died. He was checking to see if the grandson was into drugs. Turns out the pipe belonged to the kid’s mother. At least that’s his story.”
“Which family?”
“The Zellis family.” Recognition flashed ac
ross Lance’s face. Clay shifted the ice pack. “You know them?”
“Yeah. I busted their mom for meth. The kids went into the system before being placed with the grandparents.” He looked at Sabrina. “Didn’t the mom just get them back?”
“Yes. Only now she’s taken off with her current boyfriend, leaving her drug paraphernalia—and children—behind.”
Clay wondered if Lance would be the best one for the job. “I want you to check out this new lead.”
Lance studied him. “All right.”
Clay cocked a brow. “All right?”
“I’ll check it out, but what’s the catch?”
His friend had always been sharp. “I want to go with you.”
Lance shook his head. “You can’t work on this case.”
“I’ll sit in the car.”
“No.”
“I have to.” Clay slammed a fist on his thigh and flinched as the action made his head vibrate.
“No. You don’t.” Lance spread his hands. “I mean, what’s the point?”
If it didn’t hurt so bad, Clay would have clenched his jaw. Instead he blew out a sigh. “The point is, I’ll be close by. I need to do this for Steven.”
Lance rubbed his chin. “For Steven or for yourself?”
Anger rose up in Clay, but he clamped it down. He supposed it was a legitimate question. “Maybe for both of us. I wasn’t there for him when he was alive. Don’t try to stop me from doing what I’ve got to do now that he’s dead.”
“My offer still stands,” Sabrina said. “I’ll go with you. The grandparents like me. The mom doesn’t, but sounds like she’s not around anyway.”
Lance sighed and looked at Clay. Clay stared back, his face implacable. Lance threw his hands up. “All right, all right. I’ll do it.” He narrowed his eyes at Clay. “But you have to promise to stay in the car.”
“I promise. I just... I need to be there.”
Lance’s phone buzzed, and he pulled it from his pocket. When he glanced at the number, he rolled his eyes.
“Who is it?” Clay asked. He shifted with a grunt and grabbed his head.
“Be still before you do more damage,” Granny May ordered.
The Lawman Returns Page 5