Mitchell had sealed his fate as an outcast in Red River long ago during his troublemaking youth. One thing was clear—no matter how hard he tried to set things right, some bridges couldn’t be rebuilt. He didn’t have to drag Lorenda under with him, though.
He didn’t know how he’d go on without her, but he loved her enough to let her go.
He dialed Allen Carson’s number.
A crusty voice answered on the third ring. “What is it?” Mitchell would’ve laughed if he didn’t feel like such crap over what he was about to do. His ex-commander always sounded irritable, even when he was in a good mood.
“Hello to you too. It’s Mitchell Lawson.”
A beat of silence went by. “Hope you’re calling because you finally came to your senses.”
Mitchell stopped at an intersection on Main Street to let a group of off-season tourists cross. They waved a thanks. He returned it, and wished the residents he’d known his whole life could be as civil.
Some mistakes followed a person around forever.
And didn’t that suck?
“You still got a job opening for me?” He rolled through the intersection when it was clear.
“I should say no,” Allen groused.
Mitchell waited.
“Yeah, I’ve got a job for you. But if you ever leave me hanging again, you’re fired.”
There’d be no reason to leave his boss hanging again once Mitchell left Red River. The job was all Mitchell would have left. Lorenda was it. The only woman for him, and if he couldn’t have her, he’d stay married to his work.
Maybe that’s why he hadn’t been able to tell her he loved her. Deep down he knew if he stayed, if he let himself love her totally and completely, he’d seal her fate right along with his. He couldn’t live with that, and if he said the words out loud, it would be too hard to walk away.
“Deal.” Mitchell pulled into the sheriff’s office and parked.
“When can you report?” Allen asked.
“I have a few things to tie up here, then I’m all yours.” Regret steamrolled through him. He shook it off, because the only way Lorenda could put her life back together and have all the things she deserved was for him to step aside.
“I’ll give you a call when the paperwork is ready for you to sign,” Allen said.
“Sounds good.” Mitchell was about to end the call but stopped. “Hey, Allen. For now, call me on this number, not my old one.” He still had Trevor’s phone, and Lorenda still had Mitchell’s.
“Will do.” Allen hesitated. Finally he asked in a smart-ass tone, “What changed your mind? Can’t settle down? Or did you just miss me?”
Mitchell ran a hand over his face. Settling down wasn’t the problem like he thought it would be. He wanted nothing more than to stay in Red River and settle down with a certain gorgeous blonde, her two awesome kids, and her ugly dog. The thought of not staying to settle down with her exhausted him, and he had just made the decision less than five minutes ago.
“I’m poison to the people I care most about. They’re better off without me.” Mitchell probably should’ve owned up to that before agreeing to marry Lorenda and becoming Jaycee and Trevor’s stepdad. But he’d wanted her from the minute she’d fainted into his arms that first day in the park, and she’d come up with the perfect excuse for him to have her.
He’d convinced himself that going along with her plan was for her protection. But it was also so he could be with her guilt-free, knowing all along he didn’t have much of a future in Red River.
Now that he thought about it, he was an even bigger bastard now than he had been in his rebellious teens.
“Then you’re joining the right crowd, because we’re all in the same sinking boat. That’s why we do what we do, Mitchell,” Allen said.
Mitchell hung up and walked into the station. “Hi, Maureen. Where’s the trooper on duty?” Mitchell asked without stopping as he passed her desk.
Her phone rang, and she reached for it. “He’s questioning the suspect.” She picked the receiver up and answered the call.
Mitchell headed to the interrogation room.
“Hey, you can’t go in—”
Mitchell swung around to face Maureen again. “The trooper can arrest me if he wants, but I’m going to find out why this scum is targeting my wife.” He drew himself up, puffed out his chest, and threw the door to the interrogation room open, walking in with a chip on his shoulder as big as a Humvee.
“Officer”—Mitchell looked at his name tag—“Anderson.”
The state trooper actually looked a little scared of Mitchell. But Mitchell wasn’t dialing it down. The intimidation factor could work to his favor, especially since the young trooper wasn’t familiar with this kind of work. They mostly issued speeding tickets to unsuspecting tourists who were traveling through Northern New Mexico on vacation.
“Can I have a moment with him?” Mitchell notched his chin at the suspect. “I won’t take long.”
“Don’t leave me with him.” The perp was practically begging. He twitched like a junkie who’d been too long without a fix.
Mitchell nodded to the mirrored wall behind the mugger. The trooper hesitated. Mitchell inhaled, drawing himself up even more for effect.
The trooper stood. “A minute.”
That’s all Mitchell needed.
He turned to the mugger as the trooper left the room. “Unless you tell us who put you up to this, you’ll go down for two counts of assault.”
“I want a lawyer,” the kid said.
“Sure. You can ask the trooper for one as soon as he comes back.” Mitchell scratched his jaw. “I figure I’ve got a minute, maybe two, alone with you. Then several hours or even days before an attorney makes it way out here to this isolated little mountain town.” He shrugged. “My dad’s the sheriff, so I’m sure I can ask him not to transport you to the county jail as quickly as they did last time. Paperwork can get lost. Might take days to find it.”
The kid’s eyes went wide. His twitching got worse.
“I’m suspected for the rec-center fire, which I’m guessing you had something to do with. If you don’t tell us what you know, we’ll both go down.” Mitchell braced his weight against the table, angling toward the perp. “And if I’m going to be charged for a crime I didn’t commit, then I might as well add a few more felonies to the list.” He leveled a hard stare at the kid so his veiled warning couldn’t be misunderstood. “I’m also guessing your part in all of this had something to do with money to support your habit.”
The kid twitched, looking away.
Mitchell’s dead-on stare didn’t waver.
In under ten seconds, the kid caved, and they had their man. Lorenda was finally safe.
And Mitchell could leave her to get on with her life without causing her more problems.
When Mitchell left the interrogation room, he stopped short. A crowd had formed in the waiting room just like on the day the mugger had attacked Lorenda. His dad, dressed in civilian clothes since he was still on sick leave, and Officer Anderson were waiting too.
“Maureen, call Felix Daniels from the paper and tell him to hightail it over here. I want to make an official statement to the press before too much gossip circulates,” his dad said and then pulled Mitchell and Anderson into the hallway for privacy. “I saw the whole interview from the observation room.”
“I already called for backup. State troopers are on their way to Bart Wilkinson’s house now.” Anderson lowered his voice so the growing crowd couldn’t hear. “Crazy.” He shook his head. “An elementary-school principal would go to those lengths to get a woman’s attention?”
“It started that way, I’m sure,” his dad said. “He wanted Lorenda to need him. He wasn’t expecting a seasoned vet to show up and interfere with his plan.” His dad gave Mitchell an appreciative look.
Mitchell nodded. “Bart’s objective changed once we got married. Setting fire to the rec center so Lorenda would have to keep the music program at the school wasn’t e
nough. He had to get me out of the way. Today’s attack was obviously so he could swoop in and be her hero, while I still looked like the villain.”
Anderson grabbed a pen and pad from Maureen and closed the door of the interrogation room behind him so the perp could write out his statement.
“That was good police work, son,” his dad said. “You cracked him like a nut without much effort. That’s one daunting look you have. It speaks a thousand words. All of them intimidating as hell to a suspect.”
“I learned it from you.” Mitchell smiled.
And this time his dad smiled back.
“What are you doing here, Dad?” Mitchell asked. “You should be home resting.”
“I was taking a walk when you dropped Lorenda and the boys off at the house.” He tapped his chest. “Doctor’s orders. Says it’s good for the ticker.” He rolled his eyes. “Plus, your mother makes me do it.” He hitched up his starched Wranglers that were already held up by a belt buckle the size of Wheeler Peak. “When I found out, I had to come down here and see what was going on. As an observer only.”
He glanced over Mitchell’s shoulder to the waiting room, which was brimming with people wanting to know if their town was going to be safe.
“Before I make an announcement, I wanted to tell you”—his dad’s eyes glistened under the fluorescent lights—“your instincts were right. From the minute you rolled into Red River and tackled that mugger in the park, you’ve been right. I was wrong, son. Wrong about so many things.” His dad’s voice wobbled.
I’ll be damned.
“So was I” was all Mitchell could get out of his closing throat. Because he’d been so wrong to antagonize his dad for so many years. Wrong for not telling his dad the truth on his graduation night. Wrong about so many more things in his life, both past and present.
Felix Daniels barreled through the door with an old-fashioned tape recorder.
His dad held out his hand, but when Mitchell tried to shake it, he was pulled into a big bear hug. That hug set at least part of Mitchell’s world right. His father hadn’t hugged him like that since he was a kid, and he’d missed it more than he’d realized. More than he’d ever cared to admit.
When his dad finally let go, Mitchell followed him into the crowded waiting room. Maureen handed him the phone, and his dad listened. “Good job. We’ll see you in a few.” He gave the phone back to Maureen. “It’s done. The other suspect is in custody.”
Mitchell’s entire body relaxed, finally letting go the tenseness that he’d had since that first day in the park when he’d seen Lorenda hit the ground. Another little piece of his world fell into place.
The buzz of chatter in the waiting area died out, and Felix flicked on his recorder.
“The person who mugged my daughter-in-law twice is under arrest. He didn’t act alone. A second arrest has just been made. My son was not involved at all. Not only do I owe him an apology, but this whole town owes him one for all the wrongs we’ve doled out.” He turned to Mitchell. “What can we do to make this right, son?”
Mitchell scrubbed a hand over his face. “I want every chair filled at the music concert tomorrow.”
His dad frowned. “What else?”
Mitchell shrugged. “That’s it.” It would make Lorenda happy, and if she were happy, then he would be too. And that made something click in his stupid male brain.
If Lorenda loved him and he left her, would she be happy?
Only one way to find out.
“You heard him, folks,” his dad said.
Mitchell didn’t stay to listen to the rest. He walked out of the sheriff’s office to go find the last piece of his world that still needed to be set right.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Lorenda sat in a swing on the back porch of her in-laws’ cabin-style home, which backed up to several acres of land and had a nice stream running through the south side of the property. Jaycee and Trevor cast fishing lines into the stream, the soft sound of the running water soothing her. Brought peace to her after a very trying and troubling day.
Sierra. Her entire life had become trying and troubling.
She heard the shrill ring of a landline echo from inside the house and Badass Becky’s muffled voice as she answered it.
Lorenda kept swinging. Kept listening to the babbling stream. Kept watching her two wonderful boys fish. Kept waiting for Mitchell to call.
He didn’t.
Becky appeared at the screen door. “I just got word from Maureen at the sheriff’s office.” Her mother-in-law walked onto the porch and took a seat in the swing next to Lorenda. And it dawned on her that Becky looked more at peace than Lorenda had ever seen her.
“What’s up?” she asked.
That’s all it took for a dam of tears to break in the strongest woman Lorenda had ever met. Decades of a mother’s worries came flooding out as relief took hold, and Becky told her the whole story about Bart and the mugger and Mitchell finally being free. Which meant Lorenda was safe and so, so wrong to dismiss Mitchell’s instincts.
Becky pulled Lorenda into a hug. “Thank you, hon, for finally telling us the truth. For clearing Mitchell’s name, so he can finally find himself. Cameron was a good boy, but he was a kid, and kids make mistakes. Mitchell’s been carrying around a burden for all of us since he was very young. It was time to put an end to it.”
Lorenda needed to find him. Tell him how wrong she’d been about Bart and how sorry she was. “Becky, can the kids stay here for a little while so I can go talk to Mitchell?”
“Of course.” She wiped her eyes.
Lorenda found her purse and got into her SUV. Before she could pull out of Becky’s drive, her cell rang, and a strange number from Washington, DC, popped onto the screen. She frowned at it and answered.
“Uh.” A strange male voice came through.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“Uh, yeah. This is Allen Carson. I’m looking for Mitchell Lawson.” His tone sounded confused. Then a muffled cuss word sounded in her ear. “I forgot he told me not to call this number.”
“I’m Lorenda Lawson, Mitchell’s wife.”
Several beats of silence went by. “Mitch . . . Mitchell’s wife?” Allen asked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize he got married. Congratulations.”
“Thank you. Can I take a message?”
His sigh was heavy. “Look, I really shouldn’t be talking to you about this, but now some things make more sense.” He cleared his throat. “Mitchell was set to take a high-paying job with my security company, where he’d be in charge of his own team.” He paused. “In Afghanistan.”
Fear ricocheted through her. “I see. Go on.”
“He’d put off taking the job for family reasons.” More throat clearing. “Until today.”
Lorenda blinked. Several times, letting that soak in. Her heart pounded so hard she could actually feel it beating against her chest. “If you’re telling me all of this, then there must be a reason.”
“There is.” Allen’s tone was coarse. “Mitchell might get pissed. Might even want to kick my ass, but marriage and this job don’t always mix. Probably why he didn’t tell me about the change in his marital status when he called today. I’m guessing by your reaction you didn’t know about the job?”
“No, I didn’t.” She tried to keep her voice from shaking. Wasn’t happening. “So I need you to tell me what he said.”
Apparently Allen drew in a breath, because it came through the phone loud and clear. “Something about him being poison to the people he loved, and they were better off without him.”
Lorenda hoped she was one of the people he loved, but he still hadn’t said it.
“This job is high stress. I’ve seen it take its toll on a lot of marriages.”
Lorenda could vouch for that.
“That’s why I’m not married. Obviously you and Mitchell have some talking to do before he reports. If you two decide this job is right for him, then tell him to call me.”
&nbs
p; “I will.” She backed up, put the car in drive, and spun out. She headed to Joe’s, because that’s where she could be sure to find the biggest audience, which would spread what she needed to say as quick as lightning. And she had a pretty good idea why Mitchell thought he was poison to the people he loved. It was because this town, including her, had made him feel like poison. “And, Allen,” she said. “Thanks.”
“Sure thing. I hope everything works out.”
Lorenda ran two stop signs and broke at least three traffic laws before skidding to a halt in front of Joe’s. She didn’t even stop to close the door of her SUV before taking the wood steps two at a time and crashing through the front door.
The place was packed, and the musicians were setting up in the corner on the far side of the long bar.
“Hey, Lorenda.” When Dylan saw the look on her face, he stopped. “Everything okay?”
“No. Nothing’s okay. I plan to make it right, if I can.” Time to find that backbone she’d never had the courage to use.
Miranda hurried over. “What’s wrong? You look like you’re ready to take on the world.”
“Do your whistle thing, and get everyone’s attention,” Lorenda said, because Miranda had a way of bringing an entire town to order with her authoritative whistle. “I’ve got something to say to everyone in Red River, and, God as my witness, I’m going to say it today, even if it’s the last thing I do in this town.”
Just like the BFF Lorenda knew she was, Miranda put two fingers between her lips without asking for an explanation. A loud, sharp whistle ripped through the restaurant, bringing the entire establishment to a halt. Every last head in the place turned in their direction.
Lorenda so needed to learn how to whistle like a badass.
She cleared her throat. “I assume you’ve all heard the news about the man who attacked me and who put him up to it.” It wasn’t a question, because everyone in a four-state radius had probably heard. “I’d already told you that Mitchell didn’t start the fire that destroyed Joe’s, and now you know the truth about the recent fires.”
A lot of guilty expressions looked back at her from the crowd.
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