by Mia Kay
“Is that what you’ve been doing here?”
He shook his head. “Not all the time.” As they drove, he briefed Jeff on what a normal day was—had been—like.
“I guess it was a good break from being her shadow.”
Gray waved at Bev Marx as they circled the courthouse. She was shopping for baby clothes. I need to stop by and see Tiffany and the baby before I go.
“I’m not her shadow. She hates that. We did things together.”
Diana Fisher pulled out in front of them and waved through the open sunroof of her tiny VW. I should send her something for her help with physical therapy. Maggie would send her cookies or maybe pumpkin bread. I could eat—No. No more extra loaf for me.
“Like what?”
Breakfast on the patio. “She has the most interesting way of analyzing The Wall Street Journal, and she has a busy schedule.”
“I’ll bet they control everything with their purse strings.”
He shook his head. “They aren’t like that.” Gray swept his hand across the windshield. “Look around, Crandall. There’s not a Mathis name on anything in this town except the family businesses.” And the church pew. In front of mine and Maggie’s.
Charlene blew him a kiss from in front of the grocery store. Gray shook his head and blew one back.
“Who are all these people?”
He shrugged. “Friends.”
“Her friends treat you like this?”
“My friends, and my clients. Estate planning, real estate. Fitz has sent me a few tax cases.”
Jeff rifled through his notes. “Fitz, as in J.R. Fitzsimmmons?”
“J.R. is Fitz’s son.”
“It’s like Walton’s Mountain. No wonder you’re anxious to get back to Chicago and take down the bad guys.”
Gray sat at the four-way stop. The church was to his right, and the police station was to his left. “Do you ever think about what happens to them?”
“The criminals? No.”
“Most of my cases could have been avoided.” He glanced at Jeff. “It’s part of the puzzle, finding the path they took. I could see where they went wrong, what would have kept them from trouble. But that wasn’t—isn’t—my job.”
“Gray?”
“I liked building something for a change.”
Jeff eased his hand toward his pistol. “There’s a car sitting behind you. He doesn’t seem to be in a hurry. Like he’s waiting. Did we pick up a tail?”
Gray looked in the rearview mirror and then turned to wave. “That’s Reverend Ferguson.”
“He’d been back there for a while. He didn’t even honk.”
“They don’t do that here.” As he turned left, Gray’s wedding band winked in the sunlight.
Fuck this...this wishy-washy shit. He was staying. Here. In his home. With his wife. Her birthday was in five months. A lot could happen in five months.
He tossed Jeff his phone. “Dial Bob while I drive.”
* * *
Back at Orrin’s, sitting at an empty table, Maggie stared at her wedding ring and the glistening pattern it cast across the hardwood. It was time to live up to her part of their bitter bargain.
She put her left hand in her lap and pulled her order sheet closer with her right. If she didn’t finish this, she’d be out of beer by the weekend. Hell, considering today’s agenda, she might need to order extra so she could spend the rest of the week sloshed upstairs. No one would know.
The bell on the front door jangled, and Abby walked in and straight to the table. Her dog, Toby, was at her heels. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Maggie rushed to assure her. “I’m just tired. It’s been a weird few weeks.”
Abby cocked an eyebrow. “Bullshit.”
“You’ve been hanging out with Charlene too much.”
Abby stroked Toby with one hand and reached for Maggie with the other. “You’ve been sad for weeks.” The soft question was echoed in her friend’s gentle gaze.
Abby stood and put a picture on the table. One Maggie had never seen. She and Graham were in the alcove at church before Nate’s wedding. She was fixing his tie and he was resting his hands on her hips. Totally unguarded, quiet...together.
“Be brave,” Abby said as she left.
Maggie turned on the stereo, and the soundtrack for prom filled the bar with Top Forty rhythms so sweet they made her teeth hurt. She could almost hear Graham groaning from his office. But he wasn’t here.
Four months ago, this had been one of her favorite times of the day because she could sink into her routine. Two months ago, she’d grown to enjoy having Graham here for coffee and reading the paper. Two weeks ago, they’d been screaming at each other and she’d told herself he couldn’t be gone soon enough.
Now, as life without him loomed in front of her, she knew she’d always be waiting to hear his long tread down the hallway, she’d remember how he felt curled against her, inside her, how he tasted. Worse, she’d remember how it felt to have someone next to her, seeing the things she didn’t, helping where she couldn’t, sharing her concerns, reminding her to play.
Now she knew why Granddad had spent years turning when a door opened, why he’d worked himself to exhaustion and then slept in his recliner.
Her grandfather would’ve risked everything for another day with his wife. And her father...didn’t. He’d been stuck here, alone, because he’d stuck himself here. Maggie stared out the window. It was a risk, but Graham was worth it.
* * *
“There is no way he’d do this,” Gray muttered as he sat on the edge of the conference table, his shoulders slumped and his hands dangling between his knees. Jeff’s notes were carefully laid out on the whiteboard in front of him. Behind him, the low mutter of the small town police station was a constant white noise. “Carl would never hurt her. He couldn’t.”
“Gray—”
He shook his head. “And you’re forgetting that a woman called claiming to be from the hospital. My money’s on Kate.”
“But she’s got an alibi for the shooting. She was getting called on the carpet for her divorce pool.”
Each of them sat on the table, flipping through stacks of information and looking for missed clues.
“So, you’re sure about this?” Jeff asked, talking to the paper instead of looking him in the eye. “About staying.”
“I’m scared shitless,” Gray confessed. “She doesn’t need me.”
“Shelby didn’t need you either. What’s the difference?”
Gray stared at his shoes. His feet looked weird in dress shoes in the middle of a workday. “I didn’t need Shelby.”
“Have you seen her lately?” Jeff asked. “Amanda was asking about her.”
“What do you mean? Shelby’s in Chicago.”
“No, she’s not. Bob’s three agents down, four if you count me, and he’s—”
“Back up,” Gray said, confusion and dread balling together in his brain. “Since when?”
“A few months, I think. Bob was willing to let her have an extended leave after everything she’d been through with you.”
“She went to Seattle on a case,” Gray said, trying to sort his thoughts.
“No, she didn’t.” Jeff put his file aside.
“She made me come to Boise for dinner,” Gray persisted with the story. It had to be true. He couldn’t have missed that. “She told me she was going home.”
Jeff stood, frowning. “She’s never come back to Chicago.”
Oily coffee churned in Gray’s stomach. “C’mon. She’s persistent, but she’s not violent.”
Still, he’d told Shelby he was married, and someone had thrown rocks through Maggie’s windows. He’d rebuffed Shelby, and Maggie’s brakes had gone out. He’d blocked Shelby’s calls and M
aggie had been the target of a sniper.
But he’d been at dinner with Shelby when Maggie had run out of gas.
The night Carl had conveniently been behind her. The night she’d been blind with jealousy over Amber.
His heart pounding, his fingers shaking, he dialed the phone.
“Hi.” The sound of Maggie’s smile broke his heart. “I was just—”
“Why did you think I was seeing Amber?”
“What? Graham, I know better. I was just hurt.”
“Why, Badger? You were already upset before you saw the lipstick. What made you think of her?”
She sighed. “Her perfume. I’d smelled her perfume in the courthouse that day, and then I smelled it on you. But so many people wear—”
His knees buckled as he focused on Jeff’s wide eyes and nodded. “Was there someone else in the room with her? Another woman?”
“Well, yeah. Kate was there. And someone new.”
“What was her name? Think, Maggie. What was it?”
“Elaine something.”
Shelby’s middle name was Elaine. Oh God, it couldn’t be. But his gut told him differently.
A bell jangled in the background. “I have to go. Carl’s here.”
“Maggie—”
The line was already dead.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Maggie stopped the music. “Hi, Carl.”
“You’ve been crying again,” he said. As he stomped closer, his concern morphed into fury. “Did he hit you?”
She put a hand on his arm, surprised to feel him shaking. His joints bulged under the cotton dress shirt. Carl had always been too thin. “These are from the accidents. They get worse for days.”
“He should have taken better care of you. I’m glad he’s leaving.”
He was holding a bouquet of daisies.
She dropped her hand as her lungs froze and her heart pounded. “What do you mean?”
Carl pulled her to a chair, his hand gentle on hers. “He’s leaving with his girlfriend. I wish you’d waited on me. It would have been so much better. You should have picked me.”
He pushed the flowers at her, and her chair hit the floor as she scrambled away.
He pursued her, confusion in his eyes and concern etched on his features. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to take care of you. I kept telling you.”
Oh my God. “Carl, why?”
“All the guys send the women they love presents. Nate sends Faith stuff without his name on it, but she knows who it’s from. It’s a game. You love games.”
She stayed quiet, stunned, as he continued his earnest plea.
“I’ve always known, since that day when David left you, that you needed a hero, just like you’d been to me.
“I’m not going to take advantage. I’ve saved a lot, so you won’t have to pay for anything. As soon as I get into college, I can get a better job. We’ll get married, and you can move in with me, or we can live in Faye’s house as soon as he’s gone.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I was about to, but he got in the way.”
“Carl—”
“No. He did. He’s not the better guy. You’re not happy. He doesn’t keep you safe.”
This is all my fault.
“I love Graham, Carl.” She perched on the nearest chair, straight-backed and tense-shouldered.
Carl took the seat opposite her. “But he doesn’t love you,” he whispered, as if he regretted having to tell her.
She interrupted him when he would have pressed his point. “I did those things to help you because you’re my friend, but that’s all you’ll ever be. Regardless of what he feels for me, I will always love Graham.
“And you need to stop trying to scare me. Flowers are one thing, but I could have been hurt when those rocks flew through the windows, and we could have been killed when you tampered with the car.”
Carl jerked his hand free. “You think I hurt you? I would never do that. I had to cut your gas line. He wouldn’t let me talk to you any other way.”
“You shot at me!”
The door opened, and Maggie was relieved for the intervention.
“Hi. We’re not open yet, but can I help with—” The bitter taste on Maggie’s tongue stopped her offer. Cedar and musk. She knew that perfume. She’d been jealous of that perfume. I saw an ex-girlfriend. “You.”
Without a word, Elaine raised a pistol.
Carl threw himself at Elaine, and his daisies scattered across the floor. “What are you doing?”
A gunshot roared through the room, and Maggie was pitched backward, collapsing as her leg gave way. When her ears stopped ringing, she heard her own screams.
Carl and Elaine were wrestling for the gun. Maggie pushed to her hands and one knee and tried to pull herself toward the hallway door. Her vision tunneled as bile rose in her throat, and she collapsed to the hardwood. She put her arms over her head as another shot rang out and thudded into the wall above her. Plaster rained into her hair. Where was Max?
Elaine snarled and aimed, and again Carl interfered. This time she knocked him to the floor. While he lay motionless, the crazy redhead stayed next to him and fired across the room. Already overwhelmed with pain, Maggie wasn’t sure where it struck her.
Then, as her vision darkened, she watched Elaine kneel beside Carl’s still body, put the gun in his hand, point it toward his head and pull the trigger.
* * *
“Max? Max!”
Gray sat in the passenger seat of the cruiser, bracing himself against the dashboard as Glen sped through town while barking for his unresponsive patrolman.
I left her alone. I made her a target and left her alone.
“Yeah, chief,” Max mumbled. The groggy answer turned Gray’s joints to rubber. “Dammit, someone hit me—”
“Get in the bar!” Glen, Jeff and Gray roared in unison.
For too long, all they heard were Max’s pounding footsteps.
The gunshot echoed through the quiet car, and Gray’s world shrank to the sounds coming through the radio. No, no, no. He pressed his foot to the floor in a vain attempt to speed their progress.
The crash and bang of a door kicked in, timed with another shot. Max’s muttered curse was lost in the banging of equipment, the slap and snap of a scuffle, the grunts and pants of panic and flight.
Get off me, you moron.
The drawl was unmistakable, and fear chilled Gray’s blood.
“Shots fired,” Max panted. “Suspect in custody.” His pride faded. “God. Ambulance. I need an ambulance.”
Jeff’s hand on his shoulder kept Gray anchored to the seat. Sirens screamed as the entire Fiddler PD and half its EMT squad scrambled for a rescue. They hit the top of Broadway, and Glen found a surprise gear. The car stuttered, lurched forward and barreled down the street. Pedestrians scattered while shoppers ran from stores. Everyone stared.
The car was rolling to a stop when Gray flung the door open. Taking the steps in two long strides, he barreled through the bar’s ruined front door.
Carl was in the center of the bar, on the floor, his vacant stare fixated on the hammered tin ceiling tiles. His brains were scattered around him.
Tables and chairs littered the room, shoved and toppled. Holes marred the newly patched and painted walls. Bloody handprints were smeared on the floor, and the trail led him to...
Hurling the chair across the room, Gray dropped to his knees next to the pool of blood and ruined daisies with his wife at the center.
“Honey?” He rolled her into his arms. Stains bloomed across her clothes. He put his hand over the largest one, trying to dam the flow while he focused on her chest and willed it to move.
“Baby, please,
” he whispered. “Please.”
Sirens filled the air and more people crashed into the room. Someone tried to take her from him but he clung to her as his past and present melted together. He had to—
“Harper,” Jeff said, his voice low and calm, “let them do their job.”
He surrendered, but stood vigil as the EMTs pricked and prodded, watching her face for any sign of movement. He couldn’t get a deep enough breath.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Shelby snarled across the room.
Gray whipped his head up. He’d slept with this woman. She’d met his parents. He’d given her the earrings she was wearing.
Shaking, his hands in tight fists, he charged across the room. “Why?”
“You were going to wake up, stuck here, and all our work would have been for nothing,” she sneered, her eyes wild in her mottled face. “All because you wouldn’t leave her.”
“She’s stable,” an EMT clipped. “Let’s move.”
Gray swung back to Maggie’s side.
“Gray!” Shelby screamed as Max and Chet wrestled her away from the door.
Outside, the remaining Fiddler PD stood in a line, protecting Maggie from the crowd of onlookers as the crew swept her into the ambulance. Gray climbed in behind her and sat, ignoring the gasps and wide-eyed stares and focusing on the beat of her heart.
Then its weak sound was drowned out by the wail of the siren. The driver put his foot through the accelerator. Supplies and equipment clattered to the floor as Gray anchored the gurney in place.
“Keep hold of this,” the EMT said as she handed over Maggie’s ring. “And talk to her. It’ll help.”
Gray rolled the ring between his fingers as the memories of their life together flooded over him. Kneeling next to her, he dropped his head to the gurney and rasped, “Don’t leave me, Badger. Not now.”
At the hospital, he ran next to her the way she’d done for him after they’d crashed. Their nurse, now with a grim expression and tears in her eyes, pried him away as the surgery doors closed. Jeff sprinted down the hall. Beyond them, Nate, Kevin and Michael stormed the emergency room. Their wives wouldn’t be far behind.
His was already here.