The Lawman Returns

by Lynette Eason

  “If what’s connected?”

  “The day of Steven’s funeral, I left the graveside and on my way home, I was almost run off the side of the mountain.”

  “What?” He frowned. “What happened?”

  “Just what I said. I thought at first the driver was just being careless, trying to pass me on a double yellow line, so I slowed down. When I did, he moved over and forced me off the road.”

  “Did he actually hit you?”

  “He bumped me. Fortunately, I was going as slow as I was and I was able to stop on the edge. He raced on past me. The car behind me stopped and asked if I was all right.”

  “Did you report it?”

  “Sure, but I didn’t get a license number. I described the vehicle to Ned. He knew a couple of people who had trucks like that and investigated, but none of the trucks had any damage to indicate a collision.”

  Clay drew his eyebrows together. “Anything after that?”

  “Not as blatant as that. But I’ve often felt like I’ve been watched in the weeks since Steven’s death. It’s been creepy. But with this crazy stuff of being lured out to a trailer and getting shot at, someone following me from the diner, then attacking you, my grandmother’s home being set on fire—” She shook her head. “It just makes me wonder if it’s all related.”

  “That’s a good question.”

  The mountain road wound up for about a mile. The ride didn’t take long and soon Clay parked the cruiser in the small clearing. “On the weekends, this place is packed,” she said. “It’s weird to see it so empty.”

  “I know. I’ve had to patrol it several times since I’ve been back. Broke up two fights, hauled kids in for underage drinking.” He sighed. “I can’t believe the county hasn’t shut this place down. Bulldozed it or something. Sure would save the deputies quite a bit of trouble.”

  “I don’t know,” Sabrina said as she climbed from the car. “If kids are going to get in trouble, they’ll find a way.”

  “True enough. Let’s just hope we can find Jordan and Trey before they get themselves in so much trouble, they can’t find their way out.”

  * * *

  Clay looked around, shivering even while his senses tingled. Memories flooded him, but he pushed them aside. “You’d think the stories about people getting hurt would keep others away from these caves.”

  “I think that just entices some people,” Sabrina said. The air felt thin on top of the mountain. Clay grabbed the flashlight from his glove compartment and walked toward the nearest cave. He braced himself for the fact that it would be even colder inside.

  The three caves brought back the flood of memories once again. As a teen, he’d done the same as the young people today and gone exploring in the yawning black holes. He stepped inside the nearest one and listened. Nothing except an echoing silence and the pounding of his own heartbeat.

  The temperature dropped a good ten degrees as he walked farther from the entrance. Clay kicked aside beer and soda cans and fast-food wrappers. Jordan’s? Or left over from the weekend of partying teens?

  He felt Sabrina’s presence behind him. “I don’t think he’s staying in this one, if he’s even here,” he said.

  “How would we even know? His trash would blend right in.”

  “Unfortunately.”

  “Want to check the other two?”

  “Sure.”

  The second and third caves yielded nothing, either. Sabrina’s shoulders drooped. “I was so sure he’d be here.”

  “We still have one more place to look.”

  “The abandoned mill?”

  “Yep.”

  Clay led her back into the sunlight, squinting at the brightness.

  A sharp crack sounded. Sabrina cried out and dropped.

  “Sabrina!” His mind registered the gunshot even as he bent and grabbed her from the hard ground. He ducked back into the cave, moving fast and carrying her deep inside. He stopped only when the light from the opening dimmed and he couldn’t go any farther without risking tripping. He set her on the floor as he reached for his weapon with one hand, his phone with the other. “Be still, okay? I don’t know how bad you’re hurt.”

  She groaned and lifted a hand to her left shoulder. “He shot me. Somebody shot me.” He heard the shock in her words.

  “Yeah.” Clay dialed 911. And the call dropped. Inside the cave, he wasn’t going to be able to get a signal. Fear and frustration pounded through him. Not just for himself but for Sabrina. How bad had she been hit?

  She stared at her right hand now covered in blood. He gingerly pulled her jacket off, almost unable to bear the sound of her sharp gasp. He knew it hurt. Now he needed to be able to see.

  He’d dropped the flashlight at the entrance. He improvised and used his phone to see the wound on her shoulder. The flashlight app lit up the cave. He just hoped no one had decided to come after them inside the cave. “Your pretty coat and sweater are done for, I’m afraid.”

  She gave a half laugh, half groan. “I’m okay with losing those. I can replace them. How bad does my shoulder look?”

  He poked as gently as he could. She still flinched, but he got a good look at the wound. “Actually, it doesn’t look too bad. The bullet grazed you.”

  “That’s twice now he’s shot and missed.” She glanced down and tears fell from her eyes. She sniffed, blinked and looked back at him. “I’m afraid if there’s a third time, he just might succeed.”

  Clay winced. “I’m not sure I’d call this one a miss.”

  “I’m still alive. I’m counting it as a miss.”

  “I’ll go with that.” He didn’t want to think about her dying. “I have a first-aid kit in the car. I just have to get to it.”

  With her good hand, she grabbed his forearm. “No, you can’t go out there.”

  He held up his cell. “I’m not getting a signal in here. We need help, and we need it fast.”

  “What if he’s out there waiting? He’ll just shoot you as soon as you stick your head outside.”

  A scraping sound at the entrance made him tense. Sabrina froze, but he could hear her breathing in tight, pained pants. “Stay put,” he whispered.

  Clay scuttled back toward the entrance, his weapon held in front of him. Enough sunlight shone through, enabling him to see well enough to walk, to see shadows.

  A figure darted in front of the entrance.

  “Police! Identify yourself!”

  The individual fired off another round that slammed into the cave above his head. Clay aimed and pulled the trigger.

  His ears rang, and he ducked back. Heard running feet. Clay dashed out, squinting against the sun, willing his eyes to adjust fast.

  By the time he could see well enough, a dark figure wearing a motorcycle helmet was roaring down the mountainside.

  Clay whipped out his phone. This time the call to 911 went through.

  When he finished the call, he raced back to Sabrina’s side and found her with her head against the wall of the cave, lips moving silently. “You praying?”

  She looked at him. “It’s about the only thing I know to do.”

  He held a hand out for her. “Help’s on the way.”

  She sighed and let him help her to her feet. He gripped her good arm and she sagged against him before gaining her footing. “Sorry.”

  Instead of setting her from him, he wrapped her in a hug and held her. She stiffened, then relaxed. And Clay just held her until they heard help arrive.

  EIGHT

  Sabrina found herself back at the hospital. Only this time she was the patient, and she wasn’t happy about it. The doctor shook her head. “It’s really just a scratch. It could be a lot worse.”

  Sabrina shot her a dark look. “I’ve had a scratch before. This isn’t anything
like what I remember a scratch feeling like.” She softened. “I’m sorry. I’m grumpy and scared, but I know what you mean. Thanks.”

  Rachel patted her hand. “You ready for a visitor?”

  “Sure.”

  Thirty seconds later, Clay stepped into the room. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.” She looked at him—really looked at him—and felt her heart thump a little faster. He’d been so amazing through everything. When he’d held her in the cave, she’d immediately felt better. Comforted. Still scared out of her mind, true. But being in his arms had allowed her to hold on to her sanity. “I don’t know what I would have done without you today, Clay.”

  He touched her cheek with his forefinger, then tucked his hands into his front pockets. “Well, I don’t think you would have been out in the caves if I hadn’t taken you there.”

  She sighed. “Well, that’s true. Then again, who knows? This person seems determined to come after me and I have no idea what I’ve done to make someone want to kill me.”

  He paced from one end of the small room to the other. “I’ve been thinking about that.”

  “Do you have an answer?”

  “It has to have something to do with Steven. Someone thinks you either have something or know something about his death.”

  “But I don’t.”

  “What if you do and you just don’t know you do?”

  She blinked. “Okay. But what? How do I figure that out?”

  He sat in the chair next to the bed. “Think back to your times with Steven. What did you talk about? Where did you meet? Did he give you anything?”

  She leaned her head back against the pillow and stared at the ceiling. “We met once or twice a week. He was often the deputy on duty when I had to make a home visit or pick up children from abusive situations, so we became pretty good friends. We talked about a lot of things.” She gave a small smile. “Mostly books.”

  “Ah, yes, my brother the bibliophile. Were you guys more than friends?” he asked, his voice soft, hesitant.

  She met his gaze. “No. We both love to read. Anything and everything. Mostly mysteries or books on theology. We’d read a book and discuss it. Sometimes I’d read a book and give it to him thinking he’d enjoy it and he’d do the same for me, but romance never entered the picture. I think Steven was still grieving Misty.”

  “Yeah.” Clay cleared his throat. “He was.”

  “He talked about her a lot. He also talked about your parents a good bit and about your mother’s remission from breast cancer.”

  “It’ll be five years in January.” He rubbed his eyes. “That was a rough time.”

  “He was so stressed that he couldn’t help them more financially.”

  “Financially? Why would he need to do that?”

  She froze, then picked at the bedspread with her good hand. He covered it with his. “What else, Sabrina?”

  “You don’t know.” It wasn’t a question and she knew she’d just put her foot in her mouth. “I assumed you did.”

  “Know what?” His quiet question echoed in the room as though he’d shouted it.

  Sabrina sighed. “He...ah...he mentioned the financial difficulties your parents were having and said that was one reason they wanted to take in foster kids.”

  Clay jerked back and she missed the warmth of his hand. “Financial difficulties? What are you talking about?”

  “You really don’t know?”

  “Obviously not.”

  She bit her lip. “I don’t want to gossip.”

  “It’s not gossip—it’s my family.” A muscle ticked in the side of his jaw. “Tell me. Please.”

  “You mother’s cancer nearly wiped them out financially. They’ve been close to losing the farm.”

  Clay stood. “I knew the medical bills were bad, but I thought— Who else knows? I mean besides Steven, who can’t do anything about it now.”

  She flinched at his sarcasm. “I don’t know. From what I understand, your parents didn’t want to worry you guys, but they finally broke down and told Steven so they wouldn’t lose the farm and because he had a right to know what he was going to be inheriting.”

  Clay stopped and stared out the window. “Will you be all right for a little while?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’ll ask Ned if he has a deputy or someone who can come watch your room.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To have a long-overdue talk with my parents.”

  * * *

  Clay got on the phone with Ned and requested a deputy stay with Sabrina. “And can you put someone on the B and B? I’ve got a personal item to take care of.”

  “Everything all right, son?”

  “That’s what I’m going to find out.”

  Clay waited until Lance Goode arrived. He relaxed a fraction. Lance hitched his belt and finished off the soda he’d been drinking. He tossed the can in the recycle bin. “What’s up? Ned said you needed someone to watch out for Sabrina.”

  “Yeah.” He told his friend everything that had happened up near the caves. “Ned called a forensics team from Nashville to come see if they could find anything. If we could find some bullet casings, at least we’d have a type of weapon. I’m pretty sure it’s a rifle.”

  “You think Prescott’s the one shooting?”

  “He’s my first choice. His home has been confiscated and is being cleaned up by a crew. You know Stan. Where would he go?”

  Lance shook his head. “We’ve looked in all of the places we thought he might run to, but he hasn’t shown his face. No sign of the kid, either.”

  “But we’re getting shot at,” Clay muttered. “Why?”

  Lance sighed. “Go do your errand. I’ll take care of your lady.”

  “My lady?” Clay asked.

  “Isn’t she?”

  Clay cocked his head, thoughtful. “Not yet.”

  Lance laughed. “Soon enough, then.”

  “If I can keep her alive.” They both sobered. “Thanks. I’ll text you when I’m on my way back. I think she’s staying overnight.”

  “You need me to take a shift with you? Krissy’s staying with her mom this weekend. We’re forgoing the concert. Her brother called and he had something come up at work.”

  Krissy, Lance’s wife, was taking turns with her brother caring for their mother, who suffered from Alzheimer’s. Still in the beginning stages of the condition, she could stay in her home but couldn’t be alone. “How’s her mom doing?”

  Lance’s jaw tightened. “It’s a horrible disease. And an expensive one.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, me, too. And you don’t have any idea how mad she is about missing that concert. I’ll be happy to take an extra shift.”

  Clay clapped his friend’s forearm. “I’ll let you know if I need you.”

  Clay left Lance parked outside of Sabrina’s door and hurried to the elevator.

  Fifteen minutes later, he walked in his parents’ back door.

  And did a double take.

  His brother Seth sat on the couch, the remote to the television in his right hand. Encased in plaster from foot to thigh, his left leg rested on the cushions.

  “What happened to you?”

  “A mean ole bull and a belly roll.”

  Clay cringed. A belly roll meant the bull had come completely off the ground, kicking and twisting to the side in a rolling motion. Only the best managed to stay on for the required eight seconds. And Seth was one of the best. “What distracted you?”

  Seth jerked. “No one.”

  “No one?” Now, that was an interesting comment. “Who is she?”

  A darkness he’d never seen before came over Seth’s face. “Drop
it. What do you want?”

  Clay considered pushing the topic with his younger brother, but the look in the man’s eyes said he’d better not. “Where’s Dad?”

  “Out with the horses. Someone bought Nightshade and is coming by to get him.”

  “Nightshade? That’s one of Dad’s favorite horses.”

  Seth frowned. “I know. Seems weird he’d sell him, but when I asked, Dad just shook his head and muttered for me not to worry about it.”

  So Seth didn’t know about the financial issues. Clay wouldn’t say anything until he’d talked with his dad. “Thanks.”

  “Yeah.” Seth picked up the remote and flipped the channel.

  Knowing his parents were in danger of losing the home he’d grown up in made him look at the place with fresh eyes. It needed work. A fresh coat of paint, the hardwoods sanded and refinished, the furniture repaired or replaced. All of it. He hadn’t really noticed it before now. To him it was just home.

  His phone rang as he walked toward the barn. Lance. “What’s up?”

  “They’re releasing Sabrina.”

  “What? So soon?”

  “Doc says she can go. She’s signing the papers now.”

  Clay stopped and thought. “She can’t go back to the B and B—she’s too accessible.”

  “Well, she’s rolling out of here in about ten minutes.”

  “Bring her here.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes. And watch your back. The person after her doesn’t care who gets in the way.”

  “I’ll be careful. See you in about thirty minutes.”

  Clay hung up and found his father in the barn brushing down the horse he’d just sold. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

  His father looked at him. “Tell you what, son?”

  “That you’re in trouble financially.”

  His father stilled. “What are you talking about?”

  “You know what I’m talking about.”

  “Who told you?”

  “Steven. Indirectly.” He didn’t want to mention Sabrina as his source, not with tension about her so high, but he didn’t want to lie, either.