Secrets and Lies (Hearts Of Braden Book 4)

by Susanne Matthews

  “No, but he said they’re the same ones who found the body the other night.”

  “Son of a bitch. Sorry. Uncle Jack would scrub out my mouth with soap for a slip like that in front of a lady, but I knew if anyone was going to get into trouble, it would be those four. Jason and Joshua Olsen, Peter Preston, and Tyler Cummings. They’re all really bright kids, but they like to push the envelope. I’ll bet Peter’s the one not in the hospital. He’s the waiter we had at lunch the other day. He wants to go to MIT, and is working his butt off to make money. His parents were hit hard by the tornado, and what was left of their farm was sold to Zachary Pork for a song.”

  “This doesn’t feel right.” Emily looked puzzled. “If they got product from the Chef, they wouldn’t have been given enough to overdose. The first few doses are mild one, just enough to give a burst of energy and a happy glow. He wants them to want more, and then from those he’s touched, he’ll select his cooks, his dealers, and which ones will end up as serious users. As a rule, his cooks don’t use, and neither do the dealers. He hooks them on the money side of things. If Peter needs money, he’d make an ideal candidate.”

  “Why do I get the feeling there’s more to your involvement with this than what you’ve told me? Why would Cal want you at the hospital?”

  “Because I’m an expert on the Chef and his product. My brother died thanks to a meth addiction. The authorities thought he’d gotten his stuff from the Chef. I’ve made it my business to learn everything I could about him.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jackson replied and meant it. A personal connection like this would definitely give her a reason to know everything she could about this bastard, and the impetus needed to try and educate people about the dangers of meth and other drugs. He licked his lips as he drove down the road. Time to talk about the elephant in the front seat. “When you told Cal about the vandalism the other day, did you mention the incident last week?”

  “No. I figured it was just someone trying to scare me, but I’m not an ostrich. I might have been willing to overlook the dent along the side of the car, but ignoring this would be just plain stupid.”

  “And you don’t strike me as the senseless type. Listen, AK isn’t sure he’s got the right tires in stock. Why not let him keep the car and fix it up right, and let me drive you back and forth until we get a handle on who’s out to get you? It’ll only be for a week or so, and I’d feel better since no one’s going to try anything with me around. Mabel went off the deep end with her letter and petition, but I thought things were looking better after the meeting today, and both Cal and I have spoken to her, but honestly, this doesn’t feel like her or anyone else I know in Braden, and it worries me. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  She swallowed awkwardly, but didn’t speak.

  At her silence, Jackson was afraid he’d gone too far.

  Finally, she spoke, “Thanks for the offer. I promised my mother I wouldn’t do anything stupid, but it feels like I have, and I don’t understand any of it. I agree. I don’t think Mabel is directly involved with this, but if the Chef is in town, it’s possible he heard her running off at the mouth about the Healthy Living Initiative. If he sees me as a threat to his potential business, he could be the one trying to scare me away.”

  “Are you serious? This man or men are killers. You said so yourself. If he’s behind this, I doubt he’ll stop at trying to scare you.” Concern for her safety made him more abrupt than he wanted to be, but he couldn’t ease his fear. If the new teachers were involved, having her around the school would be a definite threat. A new idea made his mouth run dry. “Do you think he had anything to do with the floater they recovered?”

  “I don’t know, Jackson,” she said, her voice laced with frustration. “I don’t know anything anymore. I came here to do a job, and things are falling apart on me before I can even get started.”

  “None of this is your fault. Someone shot at you and damaged your vehicle. They tried to run you off the road. Those aren’t normal day-to-day events around here. Mabel may have unwittingly started the ball rolling, but your safety is paramount. Before you accuse me of going all macho, just remember that as a member of my staff, even a temporary one, your welfare is my concern. Let me drive you around until Cal and Kevin can figure this out. Deputy Dunderhead may be an ass in some ways, but I can assure you, I’d want him on my side in a fight.”

  She gaped at him as if he’d struck her, and the wounded look in her eyes confused him. What had he said that could possibly have hurt her?

  She swallowed and licked her lips. “Two years ago, I’d have told you to take your attitude and shove it,” she said softly, her voice at odds with the words she spoke. “Unfortunately, times have changed, and coming here now may have been a mistake on my part. If you’re willing to drive me back and forth to school for the next week or so, I’d appreciate it. I’ve never worked without a partner before, and I guess I need someone to watch my back.”

  He frowned at what she said, never considering a nutritionist would need backup, but times have changed and maybe since her job did involve trying to stop the drug dealers, she did face greater dangers now than before.

  “Okay. While you’re getting dressed, I’ll tell AK to hang onto the car until the body work is done. What time will you need me tomorrow?”

  “I won’t. I’ve got stuff to do around the apartment that can keep me busy the next couple of days. Mike is taking me sightseeing on Saturday. I like photography, and he claims there are some old abandoned barns and farmhouses worth seeing. I think he mentioned something about visiting the Amish market and having a picnic, too. I’ll get him to stop for groceries before he brings me home. I was planning to go to Church on Sunday with Elias and Lisa, so I’ll just laze around the rest of the day. I had hoped to go to the school on Monday. I know I don’t start for another week, but—”

  “That’s not a problem. I’d be going into the school on Monday anyway. As for Sunday, if it’s a nice day, why don’t you let me take you out to the homestead after church?”

  “I don’t want to take up too much of your time.”

  “The only thing I do on Sundays when the weather cooperates is go riding, and since I have two horses, it would be nice to see them both get exercised.”

  “I used to ride before the accident,” she muttered wistfully. “But that’s something else that’s changed.”

  “Why should it? Jezebel’s a good little mare, sure footed, and mild mannered. We could make the first ride a short one, and I’ve got all kinds of saddles. Uncle Jack had bad hips at the end, but he still rode with me every other day.”

  “Let me think about it,” she said when they pulled into the parking lot of her apartment building.

  He jumped out and helped her out of the truck, picking her up as he’d done before, amazed at how light she was. Setting her down gently near the door, he followed her into the building. The Sunset contained twelve apartments, four per floor. Before the wedding, Uncle Jack had thought of moving here to give Jackson and Naomi some privacy.

  “This is mine,” she stated, inserting the key in the lock and opening the door, flipping the light switch as she did.

  Jackson followed her into the main living area, impressed with the efficiency of the way she’d decorated leaving lots of room to move around the room, remembering what Joey had said about a wheelchair. The homestead was cluttered compared to this. He’d have to see what he could do about the overcrowded rooms.

  “I won’t be long. There’s soda and water in the fridge. I have beer, too.”

  “Water is fine. Make sure you bring a light jacket. It’ll be cooler later on.”

  She nodded and left the room.

  Jackson walked over to the fridge and took out a bottle of water. The apartment was neat and clean, with everything in its place. He’d forgotten to ask Mary about a potential housekeeper. The place was clean at the moment since the ladies had finished yesterday. He wanted Emily’s first impression of the homestead
to be a positive one. If she did agree to go riding, he’d pack a picnic of his own. The restaurant Worthington Arms did some catering, and he could pick up a suitably impressive picnic before he collected her. After all, he’d rescued her once more, even if he’d been her third choice.

  After contacting AK about the car and instructing the mechanic to check it thoroughly for any other damage, he moved into the living room and stood by the window, admiring the small patio, bathed in the soft glow of the solar lights along its edge. The iron grating had been drawn across the window and secured. The red spray paint had been removed. How scary it must’ve been to come home and see that.

  He assumed there were grates across the bedroom windows similar to the one here. It appeared she was safe enough, although he’d prefer to whisk her off to the homestead. Emily didn’t seem the type to want to be cocooned and protected, preferring to look after herself. The only reason she’d agreed to his proposition to let him drive her around was because she’d been rattled by tonight’s events. He shouldn’t read anything else into her complacency.

  Sitting down on the sofa, he glanced around the room, noting the personal touches here and there that gave the place character. He was certain that vase on the floor was an authentic Navajo one, and the landscapes depicted the Grand Canyon—strange artwork for someone from Chicago. Maybe they had belonged to her husband.

  Scanning the room, he was surprised not to see a photograph of her and her husband. Frowning, he wondered why, and then shrugged it off. That picture was probably in her bedroom. The older couple in the only photograph on the bookshelf were probably her parents. The man wore an army uniform. Jackson leaned back on the sofa, closed his eyes, and waited for her to get ready.

  * * * *

  Emily removed her soiled clothing, bemoaning the fact she might never be able to wear the pantsuit again. It would have to be dry cleaned, and she hoped they could erase the grisly stains from it, but first, it would have to go to the FBI forensic team for analysis. She was certain some of the gore on it was blood from the clearing. By the time she got it back from the lab, those stains would be so deeply embedded, they might never come out.

  Placing the jacket and pants in a plastic bag, she put it on the closet floor and carried the smaller bag of bones and teeth with her into the bathroom to store in the bottom drawer of the vanity. Keeping evidence is different locations like this was a safety precaution, but seriously, who even knew she had the stuff? She disposed of her blouse in the laundry hamper, grateful it had escaped the worst of the dirt.

  Undoing the leather cuff on her leg, she removed the sock, and checked the stump, grateful to see the skin wasn’t broken anywhere. While parts of it were redder than ever, she couldn’t really do anything about it now. She hadn’t had time to fill those prescriptions, and she needed to see if Joey could run them into the pharmacy for her in the morning. After applying a generous layer of the unscented lidocaine ointment, she leaned against the bathroom counter, washed her face, reapplied her cosmetics, and brushed her hair, allowing the curls to frame her face once more. When she’d finished her hasty toilette, she tied the cuff on once more and replaced the prosthesis. Since the lidocaine numbed to nerves, she’d have to be extra careful walking, but she could always hold on to Jackson for support.

  Pulling on clean jeans and flats, she added a yellow sweater that fit better than some of her others and grabbed a thin windbreaker. Leaning heavily on her cane for support, she entered the living room and smiled at the sight of Jackson, sitting on her small sofa dozing.

  He must have heard her because his eyes opened and there was admiration on his face, knowing the look probably had her blushing like a silly school girl.

  “I’m ready,” she said, “but I have to warn you, my hip is really sore. Maybe I bruised it when I fell.”

  “I’d be glad to carry you,” Jackson offered.

  She chuckled. There was a certain appeal to being held in his arms that way, but sooner or later, if he kept picking her up he’d notice the difference in her legs. Wearing the skin-toned sleeve made the prosthesis look normal, but nothing really made it feel that way. Weighing no more than ten pounds, it was lighter than her normal leg. “No, I don’t think that’ll be necessary, but I will need a boost into the truck.”

  “That won’t be a problem. Let me grab a couple of bottles of water, and we’ll get going. It’ll take about half-an hour to get there. Did Cal say which hospital they were taken to?” he asked coming back from the kitchen with two full water bottles.

  “The Allen? Does that make sense?”

  “Yeah. It’s the hospital attached to large health center.”

  “I see. I didn’t realize there’d be more than one hospital in Waterloo.”

  “Waterloo’s a fair sized city, somewhere around sixty five thousand people. They’ve got two movie theater complexes, four hospitals, and a brand new casino.” He laughed. “Not a rinky-dink place. I assume Cal will be waiting in Emergency?”

  “I think so, but if he isn’t we can probably ask for the boys by name.”

  “Then let’s get going.”

  Chapter Eleven

  As soon as Emily locked her apartment door, Jackson handed her the water bottles and picked her up, cradling her against his chest as he carried her out to the truck.

  There was something strangely comforting in being held this way as if she were made of spun glass and needed to be treated with care.

  While Alex had been solicitous, he’d known from the start that she was more than capable of looking after herself. He’d never treated her like a girlie girl, and she realized she rather liked it right now. After everything that had happened, it was nice to let someone else tend to her.

  Get a grip, Emily. Sooner or later having someone treat you like this would drive you nuts, and you know it.

  She released her grasp on Jackson’s shoulders as he deposited her on the front seat of the truck. “Thanks for the lift,” she quipped, and smiled.

  “Anytime.” He closed her door and hurried around the vehicle. Once behind the wheel, he started the truck. “I’m glad I can help. Besides, those kids are my students. I’m worried about them, too.”

  Nodding, she put on her seatbelt and leaned back. The lidocaine had numbed the pain in her stump, and the adrenaline rush from her earlier brush with death was gone, leaving her feeling strangely deflated. She leaned back against the Naugahyde seat, enjoying the subtle scent of Jackson’s aftershave permeating the cab.

  Pulling onto the road, he headed toward Highway 20. He turned on the radio, and the sound of soft jazz filled the cab.

  Headlights from vehicles coming at them made her squint, and she yawned.

  “Why don’t you close your eyes and catch a few winks? You look tired, and we’ve got a thirty-minute drive ahead of us. Uncle Jack used to say short naps could be invigorating.”

  “I think I’d have liked your Uncle Jack. My dad is a great one for quick naps, too. Right now, I’m on my way down from that earlier scare, and I’m drained.”

  “Then rest. I’ll keep you safe.”

  Closing her eyes, Emily tried to let the soothing music calm her, but her mind filled with all of the contrary images of what was happening. Something didn’t feel right. She wished she could brainstorm aloud with Jackson the way she used to do with Alex, but she realized why she couldn’t. Despite what she’d told him about her brother, Jackson wouldn’t understand how she knew so much about the Chef’s usual habits, and as much as she’d like to tell him the truth and get everything out into the open, it would mean putting him in danger and that wasn’t going to happen.

  But what if she was wrong, and this had nothing to do with the Chef?

  Someone had taken shots at her for being in the clearing. She’d assumed the person had followed her there somehow, but what if he hadn’t? What if he’d been watching the area because he’d been afraid the boys who’d found the body might have seen or heard something else? If the shooter had wanted to
kill her, he would’ve. She had presented a clear target. Even though he’d missed with his first two attempts, he could easily have lain in wait for her when he’d shot out the tires on her car. Had he done the deed and tossed her body into the river, no one would even have thought to look for her until school started. So…why hadn’t he?

  A second scenario made even less sense. If this had been a friend of Mabel’s, how had he known where to find her? That person wouldn’t be monitoring her cellphone activity. And if the intent was to scare her away, there were far more effective and less dangerous methods he could’ve used. Sideswiping her vehicle hadn’t worked, although she had no proof the driver of the SUV and the shooter were the same man.

  But then, if the Chef hadn’t been the one to give those kids drugs, who had? Maybe using the Healthy Living Initiative as her cover was a mistake. The soothing jazz penetrated her thoughts and lulled her to sleep.

  “Emily, we’re here,” Jackson said rousing her, and pulling up to the passenger unloading zone in front of the Emergency Room entrance. “I’ll let you out and you can wait for me on the bench while I park the truck. If you prefer, you can go in alone. Either way, I’ll find you.”

  She blinked and yawned. “I’ll wait,” she said, not trusting her leg to support her right now.

  Jackson exited the truck, lifted her off the seat, and carried her over to the wooden bench near the entrance doors. “I’ll be right back.” Getting back into the truck, he drove off looking for an empty parking space.

  This made her realize she needed to get her parking permit out of her car and put it in his. Now that she was fully awake, she felt surprisingly relaxed by the short snooze. The five-story, red brick hospital had been renovated and modernized recently. Over to the right, paramedics were reloading the ambulance getting ready to roll again.

  Looking up at the sound of footfalls, she watched Jackson jog toward her, and envied his easy lope. How she missed those early morning runs. Maybe, when this was over, she would bite the bullet, and order a blade for her prosthesis. Imagining the two of them running off into the sunset together, she chortled.