“That’s the meth.”
“Oh, it might be the immediate problem, but her mother never had much meat on her bones, either. And I doubt either of them knew how to stand up to a man. What a shame.”
Gage took Bobby’s washcloth and set it on the edge of the sink. Taking her hand in his big warm one, he stood patiently beside her just inside the door. He rubbed his thumb across her knuckles, the caress reassuring her, despite his attention on the sleeping woman across the room. He seemed to wait for the nurse’s permission to approach her patient.
“The few times she’s drifted awake long enough to talk to me or the doc, she hasn’t made a bit of sense. He’s worried the beating or the drugs or both might’ve given her brain damage.” Harriett tucked the covers around her patient before moving aside. “Might as well see if she’ll wake up for you.”
Instead of taking the seat by the bed, Gage leaned in close to Bobby. “Why don’t you try talking to her?”
“Me? She doesn’t know me at all.” Was he nuts? She wouldn’t know the first thing to ask the girl. She had nothing in common with a meth junkie. “You’re someone she knows and you’re also the town sheriff. Someone with authority.”
“Exactly. I’m the law. She won’t trust me. But you have skills for this I don’t.” He put his finger under her chin and lifted until her eyes met his. “Talk to her like a concerned teacher.”
Great. He wanted her to do the one thing she’d always loathed about teaching—delving into her student’s lives outside of class. She’d always preferred to leave that to the counselors.
“I don’t think I’m what you’re looking for.”
“Yes, you are exactly what I need. I need you to do this,” he said in an almost soft murmur. He held her gaze, his thumb caressing her knuckles once more. “Teeny needs our protection and I can’t do that if I don’t know who is behind all this.”
Taking a deep breath, Bobby walked over to the bed and sat in the rocker. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Gage move into the room’s shadows.
“Teeny?” She reached forward and took the other woman’s hand in hers. It felt cool. Small, scabbed-over sores dotted the nearly translucent skin stretched tightly over the bones. It was like holding the hand of an elderly person. There couldn’t be an ounce of fat on her body. “Teeny, can you hear me?”
No response.
Bobby glanced to Gage’s dark form. A movement of his head suggested he wanted her to continue.
How to reach this girl?
As a teenager Dylan had always been difficult to get out of bed in the mornings. Maybe she needed to be firmer with Teeny like she had with Dylan?
She switched to her “mom” voice. “Teeny. It’s time to wake up.”
The girl’s pale lids fluttered.
“Open your eyes. We need to talk.”
“Mom?” Teeny’s voice cracked. Her lids drifted open, then closed. “Dry. Need a drink, Mom.”
Should she give her something to drink? Bobby looked at Harriett for reassurance.
The nurse poured her a glass of water and brought it over. “Not too much. Just sips,” she whispered.
Nodding her understanding, Bobby took the glass and held the straw to Teeny’s bruised, cut and chapped lips. “Take a little sip, sweetheart.”
“Mom? I miss you. Lonely…without you.” Teeny took a sip of the water, her eyes opening, but not really focused on Bobby.
“I know, sweetheart. I’ve missed you, too.” Bobby hated lying to the girl, but when she’d been young there were many a night she would’ve loved to talk to her mom, even if it had been a blurred vision of her in a dark room.
Teeny took another sip of the water. “Rusty likes the fishman. Said the fishman was our friend.”
Fishman? “Teeny, who is the fishman?”
“Rusty said he had to shut me up. The fishman wanted me to shut up.”
“Teeny, can you tell me where the fishman is?”
“I hurt so bad. Don’t let him find me, Mom.” She sat straight up in bed and grabbed Bobby’s hand in a death grip. “Saw what he did to the banker. I didn’t tell no one, I swear it, Mom. I wouldn’t do that to Rusty, Mom. You know that.”
Had she witnessed Harley’s murder? Is that why Rusty beat her? Even after he beat her nearly to death, Teeny wanted to protect her man.
Heart breaking for the girl and her wasted life, Bobby eased the battered girl back into the bed, gently smoothing her damp hair off her face. “Shh, sweetheart. It’s okay. I know you didn’t tell anyone. Go back to sleep.”
“Mom? I love you, Mom.” Her eyes drifted closed, her fingers slowly relaxing in Bobby’s. “Don’t go, Mommy.”
“Sleep, sweetheart.”
“Don’t…go…Mommy.”
Bobby, turned and stalked out of the room, not looking at either Gage or Harriett. Blindly wiping at the tears streaming unchecked down her face, she headed for the front of the house. Two strong arms wrapped around her, stopping her retreat.
“This way, Bobby. Out back,” Gage whispered in her ear, turning her and leading her to the back door.
Outside, she gulped in air as he held her.
“It’s okay,” he said.
White-hot anger shot through her. She shoved hard against him until he had sense enough to let go.
“Don’t,” she said, stepping away from him. She dashed at the tears again. “Don’t hold me. Don’t try to make it right. That girl is half alive and I’m making her think she was talking to her dead mother!”
“I know.”
“No! You don’t know.” She stomped down the steps into the dark yard. “Too many times I wanted my parents after they died and there was no mother to comfort me, no father to hold me. And now I just deceived her into thinking I was her mother just to get some information out of her.”
He followed her down the stairs. “Bobby, stop it. You didn’t do anything to her. She believed what she wanted.”
She whirled and planted one finger right in the middle of his chest. “Don’t you ever…ever make me do that again.”
He held up his hands and backed toward the porch steps. “Yes, ma’am.”
She followed him. “You want me to talk to someone, I’ll talk to them. But I won’t lie to them. Understand?”
His back against the porch, he nodded, hands still in the air. “I got it. No lying to anyone. No matter what.”
“Okay.” She stood less than a foot away from him, breathing deep to calm her anger.
“Done chewing me out?”
“I don’t know.”
He reached for her and pulled her in tight against his chest. This time she let the solid warmth of his body work it’s magic on her. The tears flowed freely once more and soft sobs shook her.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he murmured against her hair. “You’ve had a very trying day.”
No longer capable of words, she simply nodded and sucked in some air. It sounded like a hiccup to her. Great. Not only had she blown up at him like a Roman candle, now she’d turned into a watering can all over him.
“And I should’ve known she’d want her mom and that would hurt you. You’re the toughest woman I’ve ever met.”
She pulled back, wiped at her tears and stared up at him in the moonlight. “No, I’m a wuss.”
“Nope. I’m the sheriff here and no one tells me off like you just did.” He lowered his head and brushed her lips in a soft kiss, his hands rubbing the muscles of her back.
She pressed in closer, wanting more.
“Don’t you have a murderer to catch?” Clint asked from the porch shadows above them. “Looks to me like you have something else on your mind.”
Gage ended the kiss and pulled her tight against his chest. “You okay now?” he whispered against her hair.
“I’m fine.”
He turned and looked where his cousin-in-law was lighting a cigar. “Emma know you still smoke those things?”
“Yes. But only on rare occasions and only
out on the porch. So what did you find out from Teeny? Anything useful? She kept asking Harriett if she was an angel.”
“Harriett, an angel?” Gage eased Bobby aside. Taking her hand, he led her up the porch steps.
“Yeah. That’s when I knew she was still hallucinating.”
“What she said to us didn’t make any more sense, either. She was scared of someone called ‘the fishman’. Apparently Rusty was ordered to shut her up, that’s why he beat her.”
“I think she saw Harley’s murder.”
Clint took a drag on the cigar. “So Harley’s death wasn’t an accident?”
Great. She’d forgotten they’d let everyone believe he’d died from a blow to the head when he fell.
Gage wrapped his arm around her and pulled her into his side. “The official cause of death hasn’t been determined, but his death wasn’t an accident, and we have reason to believe his death is mixed up in all this.”
“So the sooner you find this guy or I find a place to send Teeny, the safer we’ll all be.”
“That’s about right.”
“What’s your next move?”
“Frankly, I don’t know. I’m wondering if Dad might’ve kept some files on who Rusty might’ve been connected with over at the office. But with Ruby’s filing system who knows where it’s buried?”
“A word of warning. Emma just called and said the mayor and some people are looking for you. Might want to avoid the café for now.”
“Thanks. You find a place for Teeny yet?”
Bobby’s heart swelled again. There it was, Gage worrying about Teeny. He didn’t see it, but every time she turned around, he had the welfare of another citizen of Westen on his mind. Even someone as helpless and hopeless as Teeny.
“Libby Wilson has an ambulance coming from a private clinic in Columbus.”
“Libby Wilson, the county social worker?”
“Yes, she’s become a great friend to Emma and me, since your aunt’s Alzheimer’s has grown worse.” Clint paused to take another drag on the cigar. “Libby has a friend who’s a psychiatrist at the clinic and willing to see Teeny, so we can have her evaluated and held for a few days. But after seventy-two hours, unless the doctor finds a psychiatric reason for keeping her, I’ll need to find a drug rehab program to get her in.”
Gage let go of Bobby and opened the door. Waiting for her to go past, he looked back at Clint. “Send the bill for the private clinic to me. I’ll find a way for the sheriff’s budget to cover it.”
“That’s gonna piss off Tobias and the town council.”
“Too bad.”
***
For a town that usually rolled up its sidewalks by ten, Main Street was lit up like a birthday cake. Gage drove past the café, which was still doing a brisk business an hour after closing time. He turned into the alley behind the jail and parked.
“So, now what do we do?” Bobby asked, as she hopped out of the other side.
“Just what I told Clint.” He opened the door and held it for her to pass through. “We need information on Rusty.”
“Which means with Cleetus out at the tunnel, I get to search through Ruby’s files all by myself.”
“Once I get Daniel on his way out there, I’ll help you search.”
“Hope you’re as good as Cleetus.” She winked at him in that sassy way that always sent need coursing through him and made him want to grab onto her hips. This time he let her keep walking in front of him, even as he watched her hips swing softly with each step. Now wasn’t the time to talk about what he’d really like to do to her sexy ass. The whole town of Westen depended on the two of them solving this mystery. Hopefully, he’d be able to talk her into staying once this mess was cleaned up.
Suddenly, she stopped in front of him. He put his hands on her shoulders as he slammed into her to keep her from falling into the main office.
Good thing, since it was crammed full of people. The mayor was seated in his chair. Richard Davis, the newspaper’s owner, and two other members of the town council, Thomas Yoder, the town’s legal advisor and Harold Russet, all stood in the room. Deke, who’d beat them back to the office, leaned against one file cabinet, his quiet stare taking in the group.
“Good of you to join us, Sheriff,” Tobias said in his best, I’m-the-mayor-and-I’m-in-charge voice.
“Sorry, Sheriff, they wouldn’t leave until they talked to you.” Daniel came around the deputies’ desk, his shoulders slung back in military precision. Daniel had spent ten years in the army and standing at attention was a sure sign he’d been trying for some time to hold his temper.
Gage gave Bobby a little shove into the room and followed her in.
“Hello, Gage,” a deep, sultry voice he’d planned to never hear again said from his left.
The voice stopped him in his tracks. He turned his head just in time to see the woman unwind her long, lean body from her chair and saunter over. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed in close. “I’ve missed you.”
A movement to his right caught his eye. Bobby dropped her bag on his desk and kept walking to the file cabinets, her back rigid. Finally, she turned to look at him, her face a mask of contentment, except for one arched brow. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Your wife called earlier.”
Oh, shit.
“Ex-wife.” He set the viper away and took a step back. Everyone else in the room watched them with rapt attention, except Bobby, who’d turned her back and was pulling out files. Icicles were forming in that corner.
For a moment he studied his ex. Tall and thin as a supermodel. Dressed in designer clothes her inheritance had paid for and fashion magazines dictated. Not a hair out of place, makeup applied like an artist. A beautiful cover for an empty, hollow person.
“What do you want, Moira?”
“We haven’t seen each other in two years. Can’t I just stop by to say hello?”
It’d been three years and he thanked God every day he wasn’t married to her anymore. “You never do anything without a reason.”
“Gage,” Tobias picked that moment to move out of his chair. “I’m sure that is no way to speak to a district attorney with a reputation such as Ms. Dudson’s.”
“It’s assistant district attorney and Tobias, don’t get in the middle of this. You’re way out of your league here. And by the way, why are you here?” he asked as he slipped behind his desk, keeping one eye on Bobby, who still hadn’t turned around.
“The town council and I want to know what you intend to do about this meth-head lying over in the clinic?” Tobias glanced at his minions who all three bobbed their heads on cue. “Why isn’t she in jail?”
“The victim is in Clint’s clinic because she’s unconscious and requires medical aid. You wouldn’t want me to lock her up in the jail, then have something happen to her so she or her family could sue the town for refusing her medical care, would you?”
“Well, no. We certainly wouldn’t want that.” The mayor backpedaled faster than a Tour de France racer going in reverse. “Why aren’t you out trying to find the other one? You don’t think he’s holed up somewhere here in town, do you?”
“No. I know exactly where he is.” Taking out his keys, he removed one and tossed it to his deputy. “Daniel, go over to my garage, get a couple of sleeping bags and some camping gear, then meet Cleetus out at the old MacPherson place. Take some walkie-talkies so we can stay in touch.”
“What’s up over there?” Daniel grabbed two hand-held radios off the docking station on Gage’s desk and headed toward the back of the office.
“Cleetus will fill you in.”
“Yes, sir.” Without further question, Daniel marched out the door.
Gage wished he could go with him. He glanced at Deke. His friend just lifted the unscarred side of his mouth in return. Big help he was. Bobby, busily opening and closing files by the wall of filing cabinets, pretended to ignore everything in the room.
With a deep sigh, Gage turned to stare at his ex-wife. “Now,
what are you doing in town and what trouble have you brought with you?”
“Ms. Dudson has brought you some information about the drugs infiltrating our town, which you didn’t seem to know anything about,” Tobias interrupted before Moira could respond. She just smiled in that calculating way she had when she had a suspect under her thumb.
A bolt of déjà vu shot down Gage’s spine. To his left Bobby had stilled her movements.
Ignoring the mayor once more, he inhaled. The old wound caught, reminding him that with Moira there was nothing coincidental about her actions. He narrowed his eyes at his ex-wife. “What information is that?”
“That there may be a meth lab somewhere in your jurisdiction,” Tobias announced.
Ignoring the mayor, Gage studied his ex-wife. “For months we’ve been getting fliers about rural areas all over the state being hotbeds of meth activity. What makes you think there’s one specifically near here?”
“I have it on good authority the State task force believes a lab has existed in this area for some time. Whoever is behind it has stayed under their radar until recently,” she replied.
“And you know this how?”
Moira flipped her long, dark-blonde hair with a toss of her head and gave him a sultry look. “Don’t you think we should talk about this privately?”
“What I think,” he said, slowly pushing himself out of his chair and reaching for her arm, “is that you need to sit right here.” He gently pushed her into his vacated seat. “And tell me how you got this information.”
He leaned against the corner of the desk and extended his legs, trapping her between him and the wall. He folded his arms over his chest and waited. Since what he really wanted to do was reach down and choke the hell out of her, his patience surprised him.
Moira glanced around the room, her calculating eyes seeking any source of assistance.
Close To The Edge (Westen #2) Page 22