by Jodi Thomas
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
The sheriff offered Micah a ride as they walked out of the hospital’s sliding doors. “Your car is probably parked in front of my house. Randi should have driven Meredith home hours ago. Knowing them, they’re still up talking.”
Micah followed Granger to the parking lot, surprised at how easy Granger talked to him. The sheriff had always seemed so formal.
“Of course, there is a detour Randi is bad about taking. She likes to stop for ice cream.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how the woman stays so thin.”
Micah didn’t comment. He just climbed into the police car.
Granger started the car and drove out of the parking lot before he turned serious. “Any ideas on who might have done that to Billy?”
“None.” Micah let out a breath thankful Granger wanted to talk about the crime and not what kind of relationship he had with Randi. The sheriff seemed to genuinely like her, but with Granger it was hard to tell. “Strange things have been happening all week.”
“There’s something I need to tell you,” the sheriff said without looking in his direction. “But, I’d rather the rest of the committee not know it until I’ve got some proof.”
“All right.”
“A few of those plates the sisters collected from people driving by their house were for rental cars, which we don’t see a lot of in Clifton Creek. I ran a check. They were all rented in Wichita Falls to a man named Jeter.”
When the sheriff paused, Micah shook his head. “I don’t think I know anyone by that name.”
“Me either, so I had the office in Wichita Falls do some checking.” Granger turned to Micah, ignoring the fact that the town’s one light had turned green. “Jeter works for an oil company.”
Micah wasn’t surprised.
The sheriff added, “The same oil company Sloan McCormick said he worked for.”
“Sloan has a partner in town?”
The sheriff shook his head. “I may be wrong, but I don’t think Sloan McCormick knows about the man. When I asked him, he said he worked alone.”
“So, you think this man named Jeter is here to watch the committee?”
Granger shook his head. “No. I think Jeter is here to watch Sloan McCormick.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Lora Whitman stretched and pulled her hand away from where she’d rested it on Billy’s arm between the bandages. She’d found a few inches of skin that weren’t bruised, bloody or wrapped. The warmth of it calmed her. She glanced at the clock: six-fifteen in the morning. She settled back in the chair so that she could be comfortable and still touch Billy.
“Hi, babe,” he whispered.
Lora looked up into sleepy gray eyes watching her. “Don’t call me babe,” she whispered back, but she couldn’t hide the smile.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, ignoring her demand. “Hell, what am I doing here?”
She leaned closer. “I found you hurt and buried in the rubble behind Rosa Lee’s house. Coming here seemed the logical choice.”
“I knew you’d come.” He started to smile, then groaned. “Can’t stay away from me, can you?”
“You got it,” she answered. “Do you remember what happened?”
Billy closed his eyes. “They were in the house when I unlocked the door. I remember hearing something as I turned the key, but I thought it might be mice.” He reached for something, but Lora caught his hand.
“Don’t.” She held his hand in both of hers. “You’re all plugged up to machines.”
A nurse rushed in before she could say more. She waved Lora aside and turned up the light over Billy’s bed.
“Water,” he said staring at the nurse as if she were an alien. “I just wanted a drink.”
“How about a little ice?” The nurse sounded far too cheery. “Very glad to see you awake, Mr. Hatcher. Everyone’s been worried about you.”
She spooned him a few slivers of ice, then checked all the bandages as if she were afraid he might have bothered one of them. When she was satisfied, she turned to Lora. “He can have more ice and a little water. Nothing else until the doctor comes in. The sheriff wanted to be called the minute he woke up. I’ve got his number at the desk.”
Lora nodded and was thankful when the nurse hurried back out.
“Who is she?” Billy asked, not liking her any more than Lora did.
“She’s the nurse. She told me her name, but I can’t remember it.” Lora spooned him more ice. “But you’d better do everything she tells you.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He sounded tired. “What are you here for other than to boss me around?”
“I’m sitting up with you. You’re my boyfriend, remember.” Lora ate the ice she’d spooned for him. “It was either me or Beth Ann Rogers and we thought the constant clicking of her needles would keep you awake.”
“Some guard you are.” He managed a grin even with his bruised jawline and black eye. “I’ve been watching you sleep for half an hour.”
She gave him the next spoonful. “I can’t help it, something about being with you puts me to sleep.”
“Give me a few days and I’ll wake you up, babe.”
She doubled up a fist. “If you call me babe one more time, I’ll have to hit you. It won’t be easy finding a spot on you that isn’t already bruised.”
The nurse poked her head in. “Sheriff says he’s on his way.”
Lora fought the urge to question Billy ahead of time. He didn’t look as if he had the energy but for one telling. The strong, tough guy she’d been half-afraid of when she’d first seen him didn’t look all that tough right now. His ribs were wrapped, one arm in a sling, a cut on the back of his head and both hands covered in bandages.
“Need to use the bedpan?” she asked.
“No.”
She swore he reddened beneath the bruises.
“Well, I have to go. If I leave you for a minute, promise not to fall out of bed or anything.”
“I promise.” He frowned at her.
She ran across the hall to the ladies’ room. The moment the door closed, she leaned against the wall and began to cry. Silent sobs at first, then little hiccups between laughter. He was going to be all right, she told herself over and over. She hadn’t believed it until she saw his eyes watching her. It was stupid to fall apart now that the fears that had been with her since the moment she’d found him were finally laid to rest.
By the time the sheriff got to the hospital, Lora had washed away her tears and combed her hair. She stood silently next to Billy’s bed as he described every detail he remembered.
“I walked in, more alert than I would have been if I hadn’t heard the noise first. I noticed Lora’s car parked out front, so I thought she might be in the house even though I didn’t remember her having a key.
“The sun had already gone down, but there was still enough light to look around the entry. I’m guessing it was between seven-thirty and eight.”
Lora gave him a drink while the sheriff wrote on his pad.
Billy closed his eyes as if reliving the attack. “The first one came at me from the shadows behind the stairs. I saw him coming and had a few seconds to get ready for him. By the time he hit the floor, another one was rushing down the stairs.”
“Did you recognize them?”
“No. They were big, thick like some of those oil-field workers you see in town. A third man rushed in. He had a pipe, or cane in his hand.” Billy smiled. “Until then, I was giving more than I took. I don’t remember much after that. Only for a minute after I went down, it felt like they were all three using me for a punching bag.”
Granger glanced up with a question in his stare.
Billy continued, “If they wanted me dead, they could have used the pipe again. A few more blows to the head would have done it. But they took the slow method. I think they just wanted me hurt.”
The sheriff nodded. “I figured out the same thing, but don’t see how it makes any sense. Are you sure you d
idn’t know them?”
Billy shook his head. “No, it wasn’t personal. I’m not even sure they knew my name. It wasn’t like any fight I’ve ever been in. Not one yelled, or cussed.”
“Did they say anything?”
Billy glanced at Lora. “The last thing I heard was something the guy with a pipe said when I fell. He said, strike one.”
Granger wrote in his pad.
Lora could stand the silence no longer. “What does that mean?”
The sheriff shook his head. “He could have been swinging, playing an imaginary game. Some bad types are like that. Hitting a man doesn’t mean any more to them than swinging at a ball.”
Billy added. “Only they were using my head as a ball. It’s possible. He didn’t even sound angry.”
“Or—” Lora fought to breathe “—he could have meant the first one is down. Strike one like there was going to be a strike two and three.”
No one said a word. The machines hummed in the background, pulsing like a heartbeat.
Finally, the sheriff turned to Lora. “Maybe you’d better call the committee and have them come up here.”
“What are you going to do?” Billy asked.
“Tell them to be careful. Lock their doors. Don’t walk alone. Until we find these guys, we can’t be sure what they meant, but I’m not taking chances.”
“One should be easy to find,” Billy whispered. “I think I broke his nose.”
The sheriff made one last note.
An hour later, the committee assembled around Billy Hatcher’s hospital bed. The sisters brought doughnuts and coffee. Everyone looked tired.
“I know we don’t have much time, most of you have jobs you need to get to,” the sheriff began. “But I wanted to talk to you all as a group. At this point, we don’t know if the attack on Billy had anything to do with the Altman house.” Before everyone could argue, he hurried on, “We must assume, however, that it did, so I’d like to have your cooperation on a few precautions.”
Lora listened to the sheriff’s rules. Lock your doors, tell someone where you are going at all times. Be home safely locked inside by sundown. It all made sense, Lora thought, but not for this group. She didn’t want someone keeping tabs on her. The professor was alone most of the time, the sisters weren’t able to protect themselves. Everyone in town knew the preacher ran at night. The sheriff was trying to talk a group of loners into changing their habits.
“I’ve only got two deputies,” Granger continued. “But I’ll put one here at the hospital until the doctor says Billy can go home. If any of you see, or even feel anything that looks out of the ordinary, I’d like you to call me. If someone is trying to tamper with this committee they are sure going about it in a strange way.”
Micah stepped forward. “What if whoever got to Billy wasn’t interested in the committee or in our vote? What if they were looking for something in the house and he just got in the way?”
Ada May nodded her head. “The millions Rosa Lee supposedly hid away. After all, she sold off her land piece by piece and never seemed to spend a dime of it.”
“That’s only a rumor.” Beth Ann jumped into the conversation. “Don’t you think if she had any money she would have spent some of it fixing the place up? And if anyone really believed the stories, they would have looked for it long before now.”
Billy whispered, “We searched and didn’t find any money and my guess is neither did the men who met me at the door. If they’d found what they were looking for, they’d have run out the back door.”
The sheriff agreed.
“When I get out, I’ll look again.”
Everyone in the room opened their mouth to argue, but it was Lora who spoke first. “We’ll all go,” she said as she put her hand on his shoulder.
* * *
A few minutes later, Micah walked out with the sheriff. “Did you find your deputy last night?”
Granger nodded. “He said he had a call that there had been an accident out by the interstate, but when he got there he found nothing. He went in to one of the truck stops to ask and when he returned to his car, he had a flat.”
Micah didn’t say anything, but the sheriff added, “He knew he should have called me, but he said he forgot.”
Both men glanced at one another, but neither said a word.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Micah tried to concentrate all morning on Monday’s paperwork for the church. Tomorrow he’d have couples coming in for counseling and he would have no time for budget planning. He had to work today. But it was no use. He couldn’t stop worrying about what had happened to Billy.
The boy could have died. The doctor had said if the blow had been a little to the right, it might have paralyzed him, or had it been harder it could have killed him, or if Lora hadn’t found him he could have bled to death. Micah couldn’t believe someone would hurt him so badly over a house. There had to be another reason someone didn’t want them in the house. But what? The place was empty.
Nancy dropped by to ask if he planned to go to lunch and he realized he hadn’t even thought about it. He nodded and grabbed his jacket. Once Micah was in his car, it occurred to him that he had nowhere he needed to be. The sheriff’s warning about not going anywhere alone would be impractical. Except for when he was with Logan, Micah went everywhere alone. Most days he even ate lunch alone.
He droved past the Altman place fighting the urge to go in. They must be overlooking something in the old house. What they’d found so far had been interesting, but not worth fighting over.
He settled for grabbing a hamburger at the drivethrough and parking out on Cemetery Road where he could watch the town. From his vantage point, he could see the bar and wondered what Randi would be doing this time of day. She might still be asleep. He knew he had no right, but he wished he could have taken her home after he’d ridden home with the sheriff and picked up his car last night. But he’d only stopped at the sheriff’s place long enough to collect his keys.
Randi had been asleep on the couch. The sheriff had said he’d drive her home when she woke.
Micah couldn’t keep showing up asking her to dance. He couldn’t help but think about how Sunday evening would have ended if Granger hadn’t got the call that Billy had been hurt.
Shoving his half-eaten burger into the bag, Micah started the car. He might as well go back to work. He could do nothing just as easily in his office and it was warm back at the church.
Just as he put the car in gear, he noticed Sloan McCormick’s big pickup pull into the parking lot of the bar.
Micah frowned. It was too far away to see anything, but there was no mistaking the truck. Another older, smaller pickup pulled in behind Sloan. They seemed to be talking for a minute, then Sloan pulled away.
Micah started down the hill toward town. The second pickup turned out of the parking lot in his direction. As he passed, he noticed the passenger looked like he had a bandage over his nose.
Fumbling for his cell phone, Micah was almost back to the church before he got Granger. He told him what he saw, knowing the truck would probably be in the next county before Granger could catch up with it. And he could have been wrong about the bandage. The guy might have been blowing his nose, or wiping his mouth. Micah didn’t get that clear a look.
“Thanks,” Granger said. “I’ll let you know.”
Micah clicked the phone closed and walked into the church office feeling as if he’d helped in some small way.
When he walked past Nancy, she looked up. “You’re back early,” she commented, always keeping track of everyone.
He didn’t answer.
“Oh.” She lifted a paper. “We checked in the files. There was no record of any Altman ever attending this church. I called Sally, the secretary over at First Baptist. They have their records on computer, which we really should have, but there’s no time to think of that now.”
Micah tried to be patient. For Nancy, the grass was always greener on the Baptist side.
“Anyway,” she continued. “Sally was able to tell me within minutes that no Henry, or Rosa Lee Altman ever came through their doors.”
He thanked her, but wasn’t surprised. It had been a long shot even to look.
“But,” Nancy smiled and hesitated. “One of the hospitality ladies, Miss Martha, remembered that early on in Clifton Creek’s days there used to be a little Catholic church up by the cemetery. I don’t think anything remains but part of the foundation. She said she can remember Old Man Hamm and his string of kids always walking past her place to go to mass.”
Nancy glanced up at Micah and added, “Miss Martha said the last she heard the Hamm family had to go all the way to Wichita Falls for service. Quite a few families used to make the journey every Sunday. She said if you wanted to check with any of the grandkids, Charlie at the repair shop is Hamm’s grandson. Dale Wilbur over at the fire station or Randi Howard who owns the bar out by Cemetery Road would probably know. They’re all related to him.”
He took a step toward the door no longer thinking about Rosa Lee. Of course, Randi had said she’d grown up here. It made sense she’d have family in town. She had to be someone’s granddaughter.
Nancy always raised her voice when she thought he might not be listening. “So, I called Wichita Falls and they had records going all the way back to 1917.”
Too late to record Rosa Lee’s birth or her mother’s death in childbirth, Micah thought, forcing his mind back to the problem at hand.
Nancy turned up the volume once more. “All they had was one baptism in 1934.”
Micah retraced his steps. Nancy had his attention.
Nancy smiled and handed him the paper. “I had them fax over the record. It appears our town’s oldest old maid had a child.”
“Thanks,” Micah managed to say as he stared at the paper.
He still had the fax in his hand when he walked into Sidney’s office a few minutes later. She looked tired, but glad to see him.
They both stared at the record. It took Sidney time to read down each line, but when it came to the place left for godparents, there was only one name. Minnie Jefferson.