by Rita Herron
A short pudgy man in a police uniform lumbered up beside Deke, his thumbs tucked in his belt loops. “You sure do ask a lot of questions.” He angled his head toward Norma Jo. “I think you’ve blabbed enough, woman.”
“But Wally—”
He cut her off. “Get me some coffee and the usual.”
Her face blanched, but she whipped around and began scouring the counter. Silence stretched taut across the room.
Deke shot the sheriff a cold look. “She was only making conversation, Sheriff, offering a little Southern hospitality.”
“We don’t like nosy strangers in our town.” His voice boomed in the silence. “Especially when they ask questions.”
Deke swallowed back the urge to punch the man in the face. “Why not, Sheriff? If I opened a hotel here, it might help business.”
“Nobody wants that old place opened up,” the sheriff snapped. “And we don’t want you here, either.”
“I didn’t come to cause trouble,” Deke said.
“To hell with that lie,” the sheriff snarled. “I know who you are. You’re a damn private investigator.”
Deke’s eyebrows shot up. So the man wasn’t as ignorant as he looked. “I see you did your homework.”
“Damn right I did, boy. It’s my job to protect the people in this town.”
Deke ground his teeth. Bitter memories of another small-town sheriff assaulted him—seeing his father questioned by the man, falsely accused of murder, then railroaded to jail. The older kids calling his dad a murderer. The girls running from him and his brothers, saying they were dangerous, just like their dadd
The sheriff leaned closer, so close Deke smelled his coffee-and-cigarette breath. “Now if I was you, I’d get out of town.”
Deke tossed some cash on the counter for the meal, then shot Norma Jo a grateful look. “No one tells me what to do, Sheriff. When people slam doors in your face, they’re usually hiding something.” He jammed his face into the other man’s, saw a vein throb in his forehead. “Now get this straight. I have no intention of being run out of town.”
He strode toward the door, his boots clicking across the wooden floor like thunder. It was obvious the man knew more than he was telling. Deke would break him one way or another.
Cold air nipped at his skin as he stepped onto the porch, shrugged into his bomber jacket and scanned the streets. The wind hurled a tree limb to the ground, then the limb sailed and bounced across the icy street like a tumbleweed blowing through a deserted ghost town. What had happened here to make the town so damned spooky and secretive?
Several hundred feet down the street, he noticed Elsie climb from her car. She tugged a coat around her and rubbed her hands together to keep warm. She looked small and lost, and so damn beautiful it nearly sucked the air from his lungs. He imagined her being given the same treatment he had and shuddered. There was no way he’d leave her here alone. Not after that run-in with the sheriff.
He clenched his jaw and headed toward her, remembering the attack on her the night before. If the sheriff wanted to guard town secrets, and he knew Elsie had returned, would he try to frighten her off?
ELSIE DUG her gloved fingers into her coat pocket, battling the elements as she hurried toward the gun shop. She didn’t intend to spend another night in Wildcat Manor without protection.
Then she’d check the hardware store for supplies and a handyman to help her with the renovations. The fabric store should have material for new curtains and furniture covers. Her budget was limited, but her small nest egg might suffice.
And of course, she had to go the courthouse and secure the deed to the manor. Since the house had already been used as an orphanage, surely she wouldn’t have problems with zoning. It was far enough away from town that the residents couldn’t protest, especially when they read her proposal for the center. A big game room for teens to hang out and recreational activities. Counseling services. And maybe she could coordinate planned parenthood classes and offer private consultations in conjunction with the local hospital.
She stepped up to the sidewalk to cross the street and joined a small cluster of residents waiting for the light to turn red.
Suddenly someone shoved her from behind. She screamed, her arms flailing as she struggled to regain her balance. Her boot caught in a crack in the asphalt, and she lurched forward. Her palms hit the ice a second before her knees slammed into the concrete. Pain shot through her body.
A second later, she glanced up in horror. Tires screeched, and brakes squealed as a pickup truck raced toward her.
Chapter Seven
Dark clouds swirled in the bleak sky, threatening rain or another ice storm. But shouts and screams from the sidewalk pierced the air over the noisy rumble of thunder. What the hell was going on?
Where was Elsie? He’d lost sight of her….
“He’s going to hit her!” someone yelled.
“Oh, my God, get up lady!”
Deke’s pulse pounded as he catapulted into motion. Through the throng, he spotted Elsie on the ground, and raced toward her. That truck was only inches away. If it hit her now…
No, he couldn’t let her die. What would he tell Deanna?
“Get out of the way!” He vaulted over the curb and fire hydrant, cut through two teens on the street gawking, then swooped down and grabbed Elsie. He dragged her to safety a second before the truck would have hit her. It finally screeched to a stop, metal and the icy sludge from the street spewing as the massive vehicle slammed into the fire hydrant. Water gushed upward, sending everyone nearby screaming and running in different directions.
He clutched Elsie to him and dragged her to the sidewalk. Her voice cracked on a sob, and her eyes were glazed with shock.
“You’re okay now, Elsie,” he whispered, cradling her cheek in his hand. Her gaze latched onto his for a long minute, and his heart pounded. “It’s all right. I’ve got you.”
She clung to him, and he held her tightly, hugging her so his warmth could console her.
A teenage boy jumped out and ran toward them, flushed and wide-eyed. “Are you okay, lady?”
Several people hovered nearby, watching curiously as Deke checked her over for injuries. Sheriff Bush stalked toward them, and Deke grimaced as the man shot him a suspicious look.
“What happened out here?”
A middle-aged redhead twisted her scarf around her neck. “That woman fell into the street.”
“No, she jumped in front of him,” a man shouted. “Must have been trying to kill herself.”
“He was driving too fast!” an older woman screeched.
Sheriff Bush zeroed in on Elsie’s face, one graying eyebrow arched. “Ma’am, are you all right?”
Elsie nodded, although tremors racked her slender body, and blood dotted the palms of her hands and knees where she’d hit the pavement. “I didn’t fall….” she whispered.
“What?” Deke stroked her arm, and pulled her closer.
“Someone pushed me,” Elsie said in a shaky voice. Deke’s jaw tightened as her gaze swept the crowd. He angled his head sideways and did the same, searching for someone running away.
Sheriff Bush folded his arms across his chest. “You’re saying one of our citizens intentionally pushed you?”
Elsie nodded, but anger churned in Deke’skeptical tone.
Bush patted his belt. “Don’t suppose you happened to see this person?”
Elsie stiffened. “No, he shoved me from behind.”
Bush spread his arms in a wide arc toward the locals. “Did anyone here see Miss Timmons get pushed?”
A chorus of nos rumbled through the group, and they hunched deeper in their coats, distancing themselves from the scene.
“It was crowded,” a gray-haired man with a beard said as if in defense. “Everyone started to cross the street at the same time. She probably got nudged, lost her balance and thought someone pushed her.”
Deke scanned the locals. Women and children. An elderly man. Two teenage girls
.
The pickup truck driver bent over, still panting as sweat rolled down his pimpled face. “I swear, I tried my best not to hit her, Sheriff. She just came out of nowhere.”
“You stopped in time, son. But I’ll need to file a report and get this fire hydrant repaired.” He punched in a number and spoke to his deputy, but the fire truck screeched up before he even made the request. Firefighters jumped off, vaulting into action.
“Let’s break it up now.” Bush waved a hand toward the crowd urging them to go about their business, and one of the firefighters helped clear the street.
Elsie composed herself. “How did you know who I was, Sheriff?”
“Talk spreads fast in a small town,” Bush muttered.
“So you know I intend to reopen Wildcat Manor and transform it into a teen center?”
The man cut a scathing look at the two of them, and Deke realized that Elsie was still huddled close to him. She must have realized it at the same time and pulled away.
“Like I told your friend, Mr. Falcon,” Bush said with a leer, “the townsfolk don’t want Wildcat Manor reopened. So get your things and get out of town before there’s any more trouble.”
ELSIE’S THROAT THICKENED with emotions. Fear that the sheriff had just threatened her. Anger at him for not taking her seriously.
Someone had pushed her. She hadn’t imagined it.
He put a hand on the truck driver’s shoulder, and they moved to the pickup truck.
Deke led Elsie to an overhang, away from the prying eyes of strangers and the brutal wind. He checked her over once again, then slid a hand along her cheek. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, but I don’t like the sheriff.”
“Neither do I,” Deke growled. “He’s hiding something.”
Elsie nodded. Although the last thing she wanted was to drag Deke into her problems. She certainly didn’t want him investigating her past.
He gently lifted her hand and examined the scrapes, removed a handkchief from his pocket and dabbed away the blood. Elsie stared at his strong jaw in silence, amazed at the tender way his big hands touched her. His fingers were large, long with blunt-tip nails, his shoulders broad and muscular. He could crush her if he wanted. And his masculinity was nearly overpowering. Yet, she had never felt such gentleness from a man.
His dark eyes rose to meet hers, and for a second, locked. A tingle of sexual awareness rippled through her, tightening her stomach into knots. She wanted him to kiss her. To stroke her lips with his tongue and draw her back to him so she could feel the solid wall of his chest, the heat in his powerful body.
“Elsie, please leave this town with me,” he said in a gruff voice. “Let’s go back to Tin City and see your mother. You’re not safe here, and we both know it.”
She tensed. She had never felt safe anywhere. Not with her father or the Hodgeses or on the streets. Her nightmares haunted her, along with the shame and memory of the awful nights in Wildcat Manor, of that last fateful night when she’d caused the death of Howard Hodges. His scream of pain and horror screeched through her head as it had a million times over the years. But Torrie’s cries echoed as well, making her heart clench. She’d done the right thing, even if it had meant she was a murderer.
Sure, her mother wanted to see her, but she didn’t know Elsie now. If she did return, she’d have to keep her secrets hidden, because no one could love the person she’d become….
Her entire life had been lies. Lies from her father. From the Hodgeses. Broken promises.
And the lies she’d told on the streets….
She had to break the cycle. Could not return to her mother with more lies on her tongue and conscience.
She yanked her hand from Deke’s, knowing she couldn’t trust anyone. As a kid, she’d fantasized about a white knight in shining armor rescuing her, but white knights only rescued fairy-tale women, and she wasn’t a princess. She had to rescue herself.
“Elsie, please. You don’t need to stay here. It’s not your home.”
“I can’t go back yet, Deke. I already told you that.”
He dropped his hands to his side, and cold seeped through her, the absence of his warmth making her ache for him to hold her again. But she couldn’t give in to that need.
“You keep saying that, but you never explain the reason.” He raised his finger and stroked the side of her face. Tears threatened at his gentle caress, but she choked them back.
“I don’t have to explain anything to you,” she whispered.
She backed away, but he held her arm, then forced her chin up with his thumb so she had to look into his eyes. His breath kissed her cheek, his hot look sent heat rippling through her.
“Whatever you’re running from, whatever you’re afraid of, I’ll protect you.” His voice sounded so sultry, that she almost believed him. “And Deanna will understand, Elsie. She’s your mother, she loves you.”
The thought of disappointing her mother tore at her emotions. “Go back to her, Deke. Mak understand that I will come to her one day when I’ve put everything behind me.”
Deke’s jaw tightened, the wind ruffling the layers of his dark brown hair. “If you don’t tell me what happened, I’ll find out on my own, Elsie. I’m not leaving you here in this hellhole alone. It’s too dangerous.”
She stepped backward, determined to drive him away. She couldn’t bear for him to know her secrets. “Stay out of my past,” she said, her voice shaking. “Or I swear Deke, I’ll leave town and disappear, and you’ll never find me.”
SHERIFF BUSH FINISHED with the young driver of the truck, then headed straight to Thompson’s law office, his day going downhill fast. He greeted Thompson’s secretary, Donna, with a grin, wishing like hell she’d leave her husband for him. All this sneaking around wore him out. He had enough secrets to keep without worrying about hiding out with the woman he loved. If it weren’t for that damn kid of hers, she’d leave the jerk, but he had practically blackmailed her into staying.
A worried look tightened her slender face. “Wally, I heard there’s a woman staying at Wildcat Manor.”
Man, news traveled fast in small towns. “Yes. Elsie Timmons.”
“Oh, my heavens. The Elsie Timmons who lived there, the one who gave birth to—”
“Hush, Donna. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of things just like I did back then.”
She worried her lip with her teeth. He ached to kiss her anxiety away, but he couldn’t touch her here, not in town.
Damn it. “I’m going to talk to Thompson now.”
Her eyelashes fluttered as if she’d read his mind and wanted his touch, as well. “He’s in a foul mood,” she said.
“Aren’t we all?” Not bothering to wait for her to announce his visit, he knocked on Thompson’s door, then charged in.
The lawyer glanced up from a desk full of paperwork and the phone, his agitated expression almost comical. But nothing was funny about the Timmons girl’s return. Her presence could rock Wildcat Manor to the core, open up old sores, expose raw secrets, destroy families and ruin lives.
Thompson motioned for him to wait with a raised finger, and Bush gave him a look that said he wouldn’t tolerate waiting.
“There’s nothing you can do about rezoning?” Thompson asked. A pause. “All right.” He slammed down the phone with a vicious thud.
“What was that about?”
“I was trying to stop Elsie Timmons from opening Wildcat Manor as a teen center, but I haven’t had any luck with zoning.”
“So you know she’s here?”
Thompson ran a hand through his thinning hair. “Yeah. She’s trouble.”
“It gets worse.” Bush paced over to the . He could probably scare off Elsie, but with that Falcon man… “She’s got some damn P.I. from Colorado with her asking questions. We have to put an end to it now before they discover something.”
Thompson reached for a drink. The fact that he had indulged this early in the day told Bush the lawyer was nervous.
/> “Maybe you should threaten her with arrest. You have evidence that she set the fire that killed Hodges, don’t you?” Thompson inhaled his scotch. “Or hell, if you don’t, fabricate some.”
Bush swung around and rested his palms on the desk, leaning forward. “I thought of that, but if we arrest her, she’s bound to spill everything.”
Thompson’s face blanched. “You’re right. We can’t let that happen. Have you talked to Mires?”
Bush shook his head. “Not yet. But I imagine he’s pretty damn worried. Hell, he could go to jail for what he did.”
“And I would lose my license.”
“I doubt you’d get off that easy,” Bush said in a harsh tone. But his stomach churned with worry. He would lose more…his job, his family…everything.
Thompson snapped his fingers, his eyes perking up. “Mires doesn’t have the guts for this. It’s up to us.”
A smile creased Sheriff Bush’s face. “You’re right. So get on it.”
Thompson nodded. Bush didn’t ask any questions. The less he knew about the details the fewer lies he’d have to tell.
DEKE HEADED to the small town library to search for answers. As much as he’d wanted to follow Elsie all day, he had heard the desperation in her voice, and knew he had to back off. Hell, he was afraid she’d run away again. And the thought of that, and her in danger, tore him inside out. Why, he didn’t know.
He wasn’t supposed to care about Elsie. Just bring her home.
What could make her so desperate that she would flee rather than face him and admit what was frightening her?
Had it been the physical connection between them when he’d brushed Elsie’s cheek? He wanted to forget the case, drag her in his arms and hold her to him until she trusted him. Until she confided the truth. Until she let him kiss her and obliterate her pain with mindless pleasure.
He shook himself from the haunting spell she had cast over him. It wasn’t personal. He was simply worried about her because of Deanna. Naturally sex had entered his mind. To a man, comfort meant sex, physical bonding. To a woman, to Elsie, comfort meant safety—which meant she wanted him to stay away.