For a minute Ben thought she was going to make him sleep in the driveway, which he would if he had to. He’d promised Tony that he would keep Leigh safe, and it was a promise he aimed to keep. “The couch would be better—that way if the intruders came back, I’d know it immediately.”
A look he couldn’t identify crossed her face, and then she waved her hand. “Whatever. See your men out. I’m going to bed.”
Suited him fine. He walked with his men to their patrol cars, and after working out a plan for drive-by checks, he sent them on their way. When he returned to the living room, Leigh had put bedding on the couch. Quiet settled in the house as Ben tried to get comfortable. He couldn’t believe Tony had slept on this couch for a month.
Ben stared at the ceiling, making plans for the morning. He’d go with Leigh to pick up her son. How old had she said the boy was? He couldn’t remember . . . something about him being too old for a stuffed bear . . . Ben did the math. He hadn’t seen her in ten years, so the boy couldn’t be over eight or nine. Probably about his nephews’ age, and they were eight. Which meant she hadn’t pined away after that summer. Anyway, the boy might want to play on that Little League team that Andre kept trying to get Ben to help with—which wasn’t happening. Not now. Not ever.
He took out the Boy Scout medallion and ran his finger around the edges. It wasn’t that he didn’t like kids, it was just that since Tommy Ray Gresham had drowned three years ago, Ben didn’t trust himself around them. Kids made him uncomfortable, even his own nephews.
Another thing that was just as certain—he needed to keep his relationship with Leigh strictly business. Maybe he should let Wade shadow her. He sighed and slipped the medallion back in his pocket. But he had promised Tony to look after her himself. Being around her would be difficult. He still wanted to know what happened that summer when she wouldn’t take his calls, and he didn’t believe for one minute she broke up with him because she didn’t have time. Maybe he’d ask in the morning. Ben’s eyes drooped . . . Needed to stay alert . . .
A light, flowery scent invaded Ben’s dreams as he walked a darkened path, searching for something he’d lost. Running water jerked him awake. Someone was in the kitchen. He was halfway off the couch when the aroma of freshly brewed coffee slowed him down. Leigh. She must be up already. He checked his watch. It was after seven.
“Oh, good. You’re awake.”
He looked around. Leigh stood at the door, dressed to go out.
“Coffee’s on the counter. I’m going to pick up my son. You can let yourself out—I fixed the door so that it’ll lock behind you.”
He scrambled off the couch, tucking his shirt in his pants. “Wait. I’m going with you.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why? I told you last night I’d go. You don’t know who’s out there waiting for you.”
“This is crazy, Ben. There’s no reason for anyone to be after me. I thought about it after I went to bed. Whoever broke in here was looking for a flash drive I know nothing about. It has nothing to do with me. And I can’t live my life in fear, and I certainly don’t want my son afraid. Houses get broken into every day. You deal with it and get on with your life. That’s what I’m trying to do here, and I don’t need your help doing it.”
“What’s with you? What are you afraid of?” He touched his chest. “Me?”
“No!” Her hands balled into fists. “I just want to be left alone. Please don’t be here when I get back.”
Ben’s jaw dropped open as she turned and slipped out of the house. He snapped his mouth shut and raced after her, fumbling with the door and finally getting it open. He blinked in the bright sun. “Wait!”
He’d almost reached her when the crack of a gunshot sliced the air. A bullet plowed the earth between them, then another crack. The next second seemed to last an hour. Silence filled his head except for the pounding of his heart. In slow motion, Leigh turned, her body silhouetted against the morning sun as she fell toward the ground. More dirt and rocks spit from the ground followed by another gun report. Leigh struggled to her knees, and he dove for her. “Get down!”
Another bullet ripped the ground. They seemed to be coming from the hill across the road. Ben pulled his gun, firing three shots in that direction. Another bullet chipped the concrete walk before thudding into a tree beside the car. He shielded Leigh’s crouched body with his own and reloaded his gun as he scanned the hillside for the shooter. Nothing moved. Ben felt for his cell phone with his free hand, wishing he’d worn his radio. Something bigger than his .38 would be nice too. “Stay down. What’s this address?”
She stared up at him, her eyes wide. “Uh, 406 Ch-Chalmers Drive.”
Still scanning the area, he speed-dialed the jail, and his dispatcher answered. “Maggie, I need every deputy at Tony Jackson’s house.” He repeated the address. “Someone’s shooting at us.”
“On it, Ben. Andre called his location in a few minutes ago. He’s near there.”
Over the hill, a motorcycle roared to life. “Tell him to watch for a cycle—probably a sport bike.”
Ben slid his phone in his pocket as the whine faded. With a jolt he realized he’d heard that sound at the hospital last night. With a wary eye, he knelt beside Leigh. “Are you hit?”
“I don’t think so. The gunfire startled me, and I tripped.”
When she went down, he’d been certain she had been shot. “Good. I think whoever it was is gone, but let’s get you in the house.”
She gripped his arm. “I want to get this . . . this—”
“I’ll get him, Leigh. I promise you. Now, come on, let’s go.” He shielded her from the hillside where the shooter had been, not speaking until they were safely back inside. “You sure you’re okay?”
She brushed dirt from her pants. A chestnut strand of hair curled across her cheek, and she hooked it behind her ear. Red splotched her cheeks. “No, I’m not okay. I’m mad. What if TJ had been with me? He might’ve been killed.”
“TJ?” That new kid who had just started coming to Emily’s class at church? “You’re TJ’s mom?”
Leigh’s face went from fiery red to almost gray. He figured there’d be an adrenaline dump, just not this quick.
“How do you know TJ?”
“He’s one of the boys in the Sunday school class.”
4
Sirens cut off whatever else Ben might’ve said as patrol cars converged on the driveway, and he left her to brief his deputies. Not that it mattered. The roar in her head would’ve made talk impossible. With wooden legs, she stumbled to the sofa.
TJ and Ben had met.
The one thing she’d wanted to put off. Forever, if possible. Oh, why hadn’t she said no to her brother?
Now he was dead, and someone was trying to kill her. With no one else to rely on, she just might have to depend on Ben to keep her and TJ safe. Her whole being cried out against that option. Already she’d done everything humanly possible to avoid Ben Logan. She’d moved into their grandparents’ house with Tony in a neighborhood that attracted little of the sheriff’s attention. Then, when TJ wanted to go to Sunday school, she’d chosen a small nondenominational church nearby instead of the big church in town that Ben’s ancestors had founded. Just in case Tony couldn’t take TJ some Sunday.
And somehow picked the church Ben not only attended, but where he evidently helped his sister teach a boys’ Sunday school class. That so did not fit her image of the sheriff. She propped a hand under her chin. Could it get any worse?
“Leigh.”
She hadn’t heard Ben come back and jerked her head up as he knelt beside her. She didn’t know how much time had passed, only that he now wore a black vest over his shirt, and he had a microphone attached to his shoulder. Andre and the other deputy that had been here the night before stood at the door.
“I’m going across the road to help comb the area where the shooter was, but Randy’s going to be here with you.” He nodded toward the other deputy.
&
nbsp; “TJ. I need to get him from the sitter.”
“Call the sitter, and tell her you’ll be late.”
“But—”
“Leigh, someone was shooting at you. You don’t want to put your son in danger. When I finish here, we’ll get him, and I’ll take you both to my parents’ house. Dad might have had a stroke, but Mom’s an expert with firearms.”
“I’m not going to your parents’ house.” Stroke or no stroke, she and Tom Logan wouldn’t get along five minutes.
“Then you can stay at my place, and I’ll move in with them until this is over. Unless you can think of a safer place.”
There had to be another option. “Those bullets were closer to you than me. Maybe the shooter was after you.”
“Leigh, be reasonable. Someone killed your brother, trashed your house . . .” He spoke slowly, as though he thought she might be having trouble understanding him. “He wasn’t after me.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
He rubbed his forehead. “I don’t have time to argue with you right now. But consider what could’ve happened if your son had been with you.”
She opened her mouth and closed it. As much as she hated to admit it, there was no denying that until this person was caught, she and TJ needed Ben’s protection.
But who would protect her from Ben if he discovered TJ was his son?
Ben stared at Leigh. She was the most stubborn, strong-willed woman he’d ever met. But what if she was right that the shooter had been aiming at him? His radio crackled to life with Wade’s voice.
“I have the cyclist in sight. I’m doing eighty-five, and the crazy fool is pulling away.”
Ben stood and spoke into his mic. “What’s your location?”
“Highway 310. Coming up on Dead Man’s Curve.”
“Back off but try to keep him in view.”
The radio jumped to life again. “Ben, he didn’t make the curve. I’m calling for an ambulance.”
“Approach the situation with caution, Wade. I’m on my way.” He turned to Leigh. “Stay here, and do not go after your son.”
Her brows shot together in protest.
“Just once, do what I ask. We don’t know that this guy is the shooter. And give me your cell number so I can keep in touch.”
She spit out the numbers, and he tapped them into his phone, then hurried out of the house, taking Andre with him. His deputy caught up with him at his truck.
“The doc has a lot of backbone,” Andre said.
“Too much.” He climbed into his truck and followed Andre’s squad car as he peeled out of the driveway. Once on the highway, Ben checked in with his chief deputy. “Wade, what’s the situation?”
“No pulse. Ambulance ETA, five minutes. I’m administering CPR.”
“Who is it?”
“Billy Wayne Gresham.”
His stomach soured. “You sure?”
“Yeah. I don’t think he’ll make it.”
Ben fingered the small Boy Scout medallion in his pocket. Tommy Ray Gresham’s little brother. He’d pulled him over a week ago for speeding on his motorcycle and let him go. Just hadn’t been able to write the ticket, not to the brother of the boy Ben had let drown. “Once the paramedics arrive, secure the scene.”
He did the math. Dead Man’s Curve was seven miles from Leigh’s house. If Billy Wayne was their shooter, he’d been laying down some rubber. It was a wonder he hadn’t crashed earlier.
When Ben reached the scene, Wade was directing traffic. A green Kawasaki that Ben recognized as the one he’d pulled over lay twisted around a huge oak that had claimed more lives than Ben cared to remember. Paramedics huddled over a body twenty feet from the tree.
“How is he?” Ben asked. Even this early in the day, the July sun beat down with a vengeance, and within seconds, his shirt was plastered to his back.
“Not good.” Sweat ran down the side of Wade’s face.
Ben jogged over to where the paramedics were working on Billy Wayne. One of them looked up and shook his head. A few minutes later, the medic rocked back on his heels. “He’s gone.”
Ben pulled the Boy Scout medallion from his pocket and stared at it. Three years ago, he’d planned to give the medallion to Billy Wayne’s brother on the last day of camp. He didn’t look forward to telling Mrs. Gresham another one of her boys had died.
“Hey, Ben, come get a look at this,” Wade yelled from where he stood by the broken Kawasaki. He carefully lifted a small satchel from the saddle bag. A black barrel protruded from it. “I think you have your shooter.”
“Let’s see it.”
Wade pulled on latex gloves and carefully lifted out a folded carbine. He unfolded it, sniffing the barrel. “Hasn’t been long since it was fired. Looks like a Sub-2000.”
“Got an extra pair of gloves?”
He donned the gloves Wade handed him and riffled through the bag, finding two casings and a magazine loaded with 9 mm rounds.
“Never figured Billy Wayne for anything like this,” Ben said. “I want a full report on his activities for the last couple of months. I especially want to know if he had any contact with Tony Jackson.”
Wade nodded. “You think he shot Tony?”
“Entirely possible,” he said as Andre approached with a wallet and handed it to him.
“Driver’s license says he lives over on Washington Street.”
“You two check it out but call Judge Morgan first and get a search warrant. If you find any evidence, I don’t want it thrown out on a technicality. I’m going to find his mother and tell her what happened.” It was the least he could do. “After that, you can find me at Leigh’s house. Maybe by the time I get there, the third casing will have been found. Or the bullets.”
Wade hitched his gun belt. “Ben, you might want to leave Andre here to wrap up the scene. I don’t need any help.”
Ben nodded then walked back to his truck. Something niggled in the back of his mind. He turned around. “Andre, didn’t you go to school with Billy Wayne?”
“Yeah, that boy was always in trouble—when he showed up.” Andre pulled his cap off and wiped his face with his sleeve. “Last time I saw him, I thought he’d straightened up. Said he had his own computer business and was doing some work for the Maxwells.”
Tony’s employers. “He was working at Maxwell Industries?”
“No, more like consulting. Something to do with their computers. Real cushy job, he said. I think one of his brothers works at the plant, though.”
“Okay. Write down anything else you think of.” He turned to Wade. “I’ll join you at Gresham’s house as soon as I can. As Ben pulled away from the scene, he took out his cell phone and called Livy in Memphis. He’d apprised her of the break-in at Leigh’s, and now he needed to update her on the morning’s activities.
“How’s the investigation coming?” he asked when she answered.
Livy gave an exasperated snort. “Dead ends everywhere I turn. Would you believe the hall camera on that floor had been tampered with and nobody even noticed it was out?”
“I may have a lead.” He filled her in on the shooting.
“I know the Greshams. My aunt Kate is friends with the mother,” Livy said. “The old man isn’t anyone I’d want to be around, but according to Kate, a couple of the boys took after Ruby.”
When Livy paused, Ben knew she was remembering the youngest Gresham. “Tommy Ray was like his mom,” Ben said, more to break the silence than anything.
“Yeah,” Livy agreed softly. “You’re not still blaming yourself, are you, Ben?”
“Nobody else to blame but me. How about the others?”
“I heard the oldest brother is in California somewhere. Not sure about the other one, but Billy was the one most like his dad. Do you think he killed Tony?”
“He looks like a good suspect. Ninety-nine percent sure he’s the one who fired on us, and it wouldn’t be a stretch to connect the dots from Tony’s death and the house ransacking to this morning
.”
“Unless Billy was shooting at you.”
“Except for the timing. I’m an easy target so why wait until I’m with Leigh? No, I think he was shooting at her. I just don’t know why unless it had something to do with that flash drive.”
“Do you think Billy knew how to disarm the security camera at the hotel?”
“Andre says he’s computer savvy. I thought I’d check at Maxwell Industries and see if he worked with their security system as well as their computers. I’ve been kicking another idea around in my head. What if Tony downloaded confidential information from the company, like the plans for that new rifle I’ve heard rumors about? Thought I’d go out to Maxwell later today and rattle a few cages, see what shakes out.”
“You don’t seriously think one of the them is a murderer? I don’t see that. Ian is a lover boy, not a killer, and while Danny might skirt the law, I don’t think he would do anything outright illegal. And you can definitely rule out Danny’s dad, Phillip Maxwell.”
Ben hoped Livy was right and they weren’t involved in anything illegal. The Maxwells were a fixture in Logan Point. They owned and operated Maxwell Industries and employed over two hundred people. Founder Phillip Maxwell was a friend of his dad’s, and as far as Ben knew, squeaky clean. It was well known around town the old man and his brother had started the company with five hundred dollars and a strong work ethic. Ben wasn’t too sure of their sons, though.
“How is Leigh holding up?” Livy asked.
“She’s okay. Worried about her son. I’m trying to get her to stay with my folks.”
“Good idea.”
“Did you retrieve a bullet from Tony’s body?” Ben turned onto the road the Greshams lived on.
“Yeah, but it was messed up pretty good. I sent the bullet to the crime lab in Nashville, and it’ll take a week at least to get the report back, depending on how far they’re backed up. But I’m betting it’s a .38 or 9 mm. Keep me in the loop on Leigh’s location.”
A Promise to Protect (Logan Point Book #2): A Novel Page 4