The Sheriff’s Runaway Bride

by Arlene James

  “Where are you going?” Kylie demanded, racing to the edge of the porch.

  “After whoever did this!”

  He slid around the corner of the house, paused and took stock, one hand gripping the butt of his gun. If Vincent had pulled this stunt, he’d have cut across the backyard, circled around Gabe’s place and crossed the little field on the other side to his own place. Zach doubted that Vincent would risk having this traced back to him, but it had to be checked out.

  Moving swiftly, Zach covered the ground in just a few minutes and beat a fist on Vincent’s back door. Receiving no answer, he went around to the front. The drive was empty, and no one answered his attempt to get into the house. By all appearances, Vincent was not at home, and Zach had no legal authority to force his way inside.

  Frustrated, he jogged back up the road, seeing Darlene’s car once again driving away from his house and toward downtown. As he turned up the walkway, Kylie moved into view on the porch.

  “I thought I told you to go with Darlene.”

  “Don’t do that, Zach.”

  He threw out his arm, striding toward the Jeep. “What?”

  “Treat me like I’m just another citizen.”

  He stopped, his heart pounding, and turned on her. “I don’t want you in danger.”

  “There isn’t any danger,” she said calmly, coming down the steps and toward him.

  “He took my badge and gun!” Zach shouted.

  “Ah,” Kylie said.

  “I let it happen again!” Zach raged on. “I let down my guard. I let myself be disarmed!”

  “You did not,” Kylie interrupted. “This was planned to embarrass you.”

  Zach stared at her, his hands clamped against the nape of his neck. She was right, of course. He’d already realized that the flowerpot had been used as a distraction. Kylie came to him and wrapped a hand around his biceps.

  “Don’t you see? Whoever did this knows about what happened in Miami. This isn’t just about us. It’s not just about me. This is about you.”

  Zach shook his head, so much whirling through his mind.

  “Think!” Kylie urged. “If someone wanted to steal your gun and badge, where would they look? If it were me, I would assume that you’d keep them close to you, and I’d watch for a moment when you were distracted to try to steal them.”

  He’d given the thief the perfect opportunity. He’d as good as announced that he’d be leaving the gun in the house while he talked to Brooke. Then he didn’t even close the drawer! He’d once thought that he was a good cop. Then he’d let that druggie in Miami lay hands on his gun, and Dave had died. Nothing had been right since. He’d lost it. Whatever he’d had, whatever had made him an effective lawman, he’d lost it.

  “I can’t do this job anymore,” he said. “I can’t do this job.”

  Kylie shook his arm. “Don’t say that! Can’t you see that he wants to rob you? He wants to rob you of your inheritance. Of your self-confidence. Of your calling.”

  Zach stared down at her. “Vincent.”

  “Yes. But that’s not who Macy saw.”

  Zach dropped his hands to her shoulders. “Macy knows who broke the flowerpot?”

  Kylie shook her head, “No. But I know who she saw. At least, I know who she described.” He tightened his grip on her arms. “His name’s Willy Bishop.”

  Willy Bishop. The sniveling little creep who’d framed Zach for theft back in high school. “We go way back, Willy and I. He’s an old friend of Vincent’s.”

  “And he shares a house with Rob Crenshaw.”

  Zach reared his head, those law enforcement instincts roaring back to life. Of course. Vincent had set this up. Just as he’d goaded Rob into making that scene at the Cowboy Café, he had surely arranged this. That first little scheme had almost backfired, though. Vincent must have been appalled to find that Kylie wasn’t at the café when Rob had first accosted Janey. Well, this wouldn’t work, either, not with Willy Bishop as Vincent’s tool.

  “Stay here,” he said to Kylie, setting her aside, but he didn’t manage a single step before she came back at him.

  “No.”

  “Kylie…” he began impatiently.

  “No! I have to prove to him—and to you—that there is one thing he cannot take from you no matter what he does,” she said fiercely, “because I won’t let him!” She wrapped her arms around Zach, almost like the day they’d met, the day she’d called off the wedding and run from the church, the day he’d first stood between her and Vincent. Except this time she faced him, so he could read those beautiful eyes. “He can’t take me away from you, Zach, because I won’t allow it.”

  Stunned, Zach felt his heart rate speed up. “Kylie?”

  “The rest is all up to you,” she told him, “but I won’t let him, or anyone else, decide who I love. Not even you. That’s for me to decide. That’s between me and God.”

  “Kylie!” His lungs pumping like a bellows, he locked her against him, whispering, “Kylie.” He could scarcely believe what he’d heard. Had he even heard what he thought he had? Could she, did she, love him?

  He must’ve hugged her so tightly that she couldn’t breathe for she made a sound partway between a laugh and a gurgle as she pushed against him. Instantly, he released her. She danced away, moving toward the Jeep.

  “Well, come on,” she said. “Let’s go get him.”

  Zach smiled, feeling invigorated, confident, strong. “You don’t need to be involved in this,” he told her, striding once more toward the Wrangler.

  “Yes, I do,” she insisted, going to the passenger door. “Willy’s a slimy little weasel. He’s probably gone to ground by now, but I know all his hidey holes.”

  Zach grinned. Well, she had him there. Besides, from what he had learned about Willy, Zach had to rate the likelihood of danger at practically nil. On top of that, he didn’t really want to let her out of his sight. Ever again. He got into the Jeep. She sat belted in place before he got the engine started. Still shaking his head, he backed the Wrangler up the drive and out into the street.

  “I trust you know where this house is that Rob Crenshaw shares with Willy.”

  “It just so happens that I do.”

  “Point the way, darlin’.”

  But then, hadn’t she already done so? In more ways than she could possibly know.

  The house on Flicker Avenue had little to recommend it. In need of paint and shingles, it might once have been a snug little cottage, but rusted car parts, including an engine and one entire front end of an ancient pickup truck, littered the dusty front yard. The shrubs flanking the open gateway of a nonexistent fence and lining the front of the house had been allowed to grow unchecked, blocking windows and shooting off unruly sprouts in all directions. The first time she’d come here, Kylie had wondered if the place was even occupied.

  “Wait here,” Zach said, climbing out of the Jeep.

  Kylie just looked at him. Really? He thought that would work now? She knew Willy, and although he might have considered it a lark to steal Zach’s service revolver and badge and stood in awe of Vincent, Willy wasn’t the sort to actually brandish a weapon or strike a blow. A soft, sleazy character with teeth like a rat’s, Willy kept to the back of every crowd and slinked around the perimeter of every room. He’d scare a little girl, yes, and do Vincent’s dirty work if it didn’t prove too difficult, but he’d fold like a card table if confronted. Vincent could move him to tears with a single look. Kylie could just imagine what Zach could do.

  She slipped out of the vehicle but hung back while Zach knocked, bouncing the screen in its frame. Opening the screen, he looked through the tiny window set high in the cracked wood of the front door. Growling with frustration, he pounded harder.

  “Crenshaw! Rob Crenshaw! I know you’re in there!”

  Rolling her eyes, Kylie rushed forward and slipped around Zach to open the door.

  “What are you doing?” he hissed. “I can’t—”

  “I can,”
she interrupted. “I’m not the law, and I’ve done this more than once when I was looking for Vincent.”

  He lifted his eyebrows, inclining his head. She turned the knob and pushed the unlocked door open, calling out, “Willy? Rob?”

  A snuffle, not unlike that of a pig going after an acorn, drew her attention to the tattered recliner in front of the bulky TV to one side of the dim, dirty room. Rob shifted and sighed, obviously sinking back into a deep sleep. Kylie walked over and shook him by the shoulder, shouting, “Rob!”

  He jerked and tried to bolt up, but the chair itself hampered him. He did manage to get the footrest down. Scruffy and rumpled, he squinted up at her. “Kylie?”

  “Yeah. We’re looking for Willy. Do you know where he is?”

  Shaking his head, Rob glanced around at the lumpy, dirty, grey sofa, yellowed lamp shade, gouged side tables and worn, oversize easy chair spilling its stuffing from one arm. “He, uh, he was here when I passed ou—uh, went to sleep.”

  “And when was that?” Zach asked from the doorway.

  Rob’s eyes widened as he took in the big man silhouetted there. “Uh, uh, about dawn, I guess.”

  Zach nodded, asking, “Mind if I take a look around?”

  Rob blinked and licked his lips. “What for?”

  “I think Willy paid me a visit a little while ago,” Zach said, every word weighted with portent.

  Rob’s eyes again tracked warily around the room.

  Kylie tried for a friendly tone, asking, “You don’t want to be in the way of an investigation, do you, Rob?”

  “Obstructing,” Zach corrected. “The charge is obstructing an official investigation.”

  “I’m not obstructing anything!” Rob exclaimed. “You can’t arrest me again! I’m not drunk and I’m not obstructing!”

  “Great. Guess that means I can take a look around then,” Zach said, sauntering into the room. “Thanks, Rob.”

  Gulping, Rob wiped a hand over his face. Kylie felt kind of sorry for him and patted his shoulder. Zach stood in the center of the floor, his arms at his waist, carefully surveying the room. He presented, she noticed, a quite imposing figure, and it came to him as naturally as breathing.

  Couldn’t do this job! She mentally scoffed at the very idea. He’d been born for this job, made for it. And she had been made for him. She didn’t doubt it now, only feared that, in the end, he wouldn’t see it. He hadn’t, after all, told her that he loved her—and God knew she’d left that door wide open.

  “How many rooms do you have here?” Zach asked.

  “F-four. Uh, not counting the bathroom.”

  “Well, it wouldn’t be in his room. Even Willy is too smart for that.”

  “What?” Rob squawked. “What?”

  Ignoring him, Zach tilted his head. His focus lasered in on the sofa. “Does that look unusually lumpy to you?”

  Kylie studied the section of the sofa in which he seemed interested. It did look oddly shaped. He went over and flipped back the cushion. She knew from the way his shoulders relaxed that he’d found what he’d been looking for. Trust Willy to pick the most obvious hiding place. Bending, Zach picked up the missing items and turned to face Rob.

  Kylie thought, for a moment, that Rob would choke. Then she wondered if he would manage to climb the recliner backward.

  “I—I’ve never seen that before! I don’t know anything about it! I don’t know how it got here!” All but bawling, he grabbed Kylie’s hand as if to plead for her protection.

  “Oh, for goodness sake,” she said, “just tell him what he wants to know.”

  The corner of Zach’s lip quirked, but he managed to keep a straight face. “Who was here last night?”

  Rob rattled off several names, starting with Willy.

  “And Vincent?”

  Rob gulped and confirmed sulkily, “Yes, Vincent.” He quickly added, “Vincent’s a friend of Willy’s.”

  “But not yours?” Zach asked.

  “Not anymore,” Rob muttered.

  “That’s smart, Rob. That’s real smart. See, Vincent uses people, like he used you that day I had to arrest you. Right?”

  Rob began to look hunted, but he clamped his lips firmly shut.

  Zach frowned. “So, did you at any time overhear Vincent and Willy discussing a theft?”

  Rob shook his head wildly. “No. No, no, no.”

  “A prank, maybe, that they wanted to play on me?” Zach suggested.

  Rob insisted brusquely, “I didn’t hear what they were saying. Okay? I didn’t want to hear.”

  Kylie watched Zach slide the badge into his pocket and check the holstered gun. Apparently resigned to the fact that Vincent was going to get away with another stunt, he strolled toward Rob. Bending at the waist, he trapped Rob in the chair, his hands planted on the recliner’s arms. One of them held the gun snapped into its holster.

  “Where is Willy?”

  Staring at that covered holster, Rob cleared his throat. “He said he was going to see his aunt. Told me I could rent out his room.”

  “What’s her name?”

  Rob screwed up his face. “Uh…Jenny? Betty? Something like that.”

  Zach hung his head, communicating his displeasure. “Where does she live?”

  “Texas,” Rob said. “Definitely Texas.”

  Sighing, Zach straightened. “Show me his room.”

  Rob managed to get to his feet, and the two of them disappeared through a doorway. Zach returned alone a few minutes later.

  “Well, old Willy definitely packed up and lit out. I think Rob’s just now coming to grips with the idea that Willy and Vincent might have been setting him up. Wouldn’t be the first time those two framed an innocent man.”

  “Are you going after Willy or having him picked up?”

  Zach shook his head. “If I could, I’d apologize to Texas, though.”

  Kylie chuckled and let him steer her out of the house. He stopped in front of the Jeep and put back his head, heaving a great sigh of relief.

  “You okay?” Kylie asked.

  He turned to face her, leaning a hip against the fender. “Better than okay.”

  “No more doubts about the job?”

  He looked down at his booted toes. After a moment, he shook his head. “No more doubts about the job.”

  “Thank God!”

  “Thank God,” he echoed. “And you.”

  “Oh, I didn’t do anything,” she said. “Not really.” Then, before he could argue the point, she asked, “What now?”

  “First,” he said, holding the holstered gun aloft, “I lock this away.” He went to fiddle around with the backseat, flipping it up. A metal box had been fixed to the floorboard. He opened it, put the gun inside, locked it and repositioned the seat.

  “Let’s grab a bite to eat,” he suggested. “Then I’ll call Macy and reschedule our picnic. Looks like it’s going to rain anyway.”

  Kylie turned her face up. “So it does.”

  “Better get the top on first. Want to help me? Again.”

  She grinned. “Absolutely.” Always, she added silently.

  He went to the back of the vehicle and took out the vinyl top. Working together, they had the thing snapped into place within minutes. Obviously, they made a good team.

  “Just in time,” Zach said as the first drops started to fall. They hopped in.

  “So, you want to go back to your place and picnic indoors?” Kylie asked, thinking of the food she’d left in his refrigerator.

  He looked at her and smiled, then shook his head. “I don’t think being alone with you right now is a good idea.” He started up the Jeep and threw the transmission into gear. “Not a good idea at all.”

  She blinked at him, confused and a little hurt. Did he fear that she’d press him for a declaration now that she’d let him know how she felt?

  Maybe his silence on the subject was his declaration. Maybe he just didn’t feel for her what she felt for him. Sure, he’d publicly claimed her as his gir
l, but that could have been just to thwart Vincent. Later, he had to know that it had gotten all over town, hence his remark to Brooke on the subject. Besides, tagging her as his “girl” fell far short of entertaining thoughts of marriage, and she admitted to herself that she wanted to be his wife. True love, yes, that had to be part of it, but being Zach’s girl would never be enough for her. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with this incredible man. But maybe he never would want to marry her.

  That thought saddened Kylie. It threatened to break her heart. But if she’d learned anything, she had learned to wait on God, to let Him reveal His will in His time.

  She had tried before to shape His will to suit her idea of what was best. She had intended to marry a man she did not love for what she now realized were, ultimately, selfish reasons. Thankfully, God had not let her get away with it!

  If she now loved a man who did not feel for her what she desperately wanted him to feel, well, she supposed some poetic justice could be found in that. It would break her heart if Zach did not eventually come to love her, but God would see her through. She would not doubt that He had a reason, a plan. She would embrace His plan—even if it came with pain—and in the meantime, she would pray as she had never before prayed.

  Chapter Fifteen

  They went to the Cowboy Café. Kylie tried not to be disappointed. Where else, after all, could they go to get a meal?

  Darlene and Macy had apparently come up with the same idea and were already sitting at a table. Macy waved at them over a dish of coconut pecan frozen yogurt, the last of it, probably, unless Erin had purchased more of the stuff. If Erin hadn’t, Kylie mused, she might pick up some of Zach’s favorite frozen yogurt herself.

  Darlene got up from the table and came to meet them, asking softly, “Everything okay? What exactly happened?”

  Zach gave her an expurgated account. “It was a prank of sorts. I don’t think any harm was meant toward Macy. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have given warning before shoving the flowerpot off the porch ledge.” He exhaled sharply. “At any rate, we know who did it, and he’s apparently left town. If he shows his face around here any time soon, though, I’ll be all over him.”