Lethal Lawman

by Carla Cassidy

  “Did Matt want the divorce, too?” For the first time, Frank asked a question.

  “No, not really,” she admitted. “Matt wanted to present himself as the perfect man with the perfect wife and marriage. But by the time I decided to leave, there was nothing that was going to stop me.” She tried not to think about the final breaking point...a point that had come too late and welled up a wrenching grief inside her that nearly overwhelmed her.

  She took another sip of her coffee, stuffing her emotions into an internal box. There were some things she was better off not remembering.

  “By the way, Matt is the Honorable Matt McGraw, a Superior Court judge who has his sights set on the Supreme Court. He’s also a man with a hair-trigger temper behind closed doors.”

  Frank’s eyes darkened and he held her gaze steadily. She wanted to look away, but knew it wasn’t a good idea. It was time for her to face the ugly pieces of her past...pieces that might have crawled back into her present. “He was abusive?”

  “Yes.” The single word didn’t begin to describe what she’d endured at Matt’s hands.

  Frank sat back in his chair, a deep frown furrowing his brow at the same time his gaze held a touch of compassion. “How bad?”

  “At the end, very bad.” She released a deep sigh. “Frank, I was the poster child for a battered woman. His abuse started almost immediately and insidiously. He criticized my choice of clothing, the way I’d set the table, the menu I had planned. At first I didn’t see it as abuse. I thought he was trying to teach me, to make me a better woman, a better wife.”

  “And you wanted to please him.” Frank’s voice was soft.

  She nodded. “Desperately. I wanted to learn from him, to become a better woman, the best wife possible. I was such a fool, but I didn’t see it for what it was until the first time he got physical with me.”

  Despite her desire never to remember her time with Matt, the memory of that day exploded in her head.

  “Tell me, Marlene. Maybe talking about it will take away its power.” He reached out and covered one of her hands, his touch warm and comforting.

  Although her initial instinct was to pull her hand from his, she didn’t. She allowed the warmth to seep through her as she remembered the first time she had recognized exactly what her husband was capable of.

  “We were having a dinner party that evening,” she said dispassionately as she wrapped around her the lack of emotion that always protected her when she remembered. “Matt was at work and I’d been busy cleaning and cooking all day so that everything would be perfect. Matt usually got home between five and six and I always made sure I looked perfect when he walked through the door, but that day he showed up at the house at three and I was less than perfect.”

  She became aware that she was suddenly holding Frank’s hand and squeezing tight. When she tried to pull her hand away he held tighter, refusing to allow her to break the contact.

  She realized at that moment that she wanted...needed his strength as she continued. “I didn’t have my makeup on. I didn’t like to wear it when I was home alone. I told him that I liked to have a clean face sometimes. Before I knew it, he grabbed me by the back of the neck and marched me into the kitchen, where he held me in place while he filled the sink full of water.”

  She heard the quiver in her voice. “‘You want a clean face?’ he asked, and then he shoved my face into the water and held me down until I thought I’d drown. Over and over again he yanked me up and then shoved me back under the water. I thought he was going to kill me.”

  She pulled her hand from Frank’s and once again got up from the table, unable to find the dispassion, her precious numbness as the memory grabbed her by the throat and refused to let go, just as Matt had done that day.

  “That night we had a very successful dinner party and afterward Matt apologized to me. He told me he’d been under a lot of stress at work and had snapped. He told me I was beautiful and amazing and he didn’t know what he’d do without me.”

  “And so you forgave him and you stayed,” Frank said.

  She flashed him a humorless smile. “I told you I was the poster child for domestic abuse. Of course I believed him. I thought it was a onetime incident, and so I stayed, and for a while things were wonderful and I began to truly believe it had been an isolated event.”

  “But it wasn’t.” Frank got up from the table and took several steps toward her.

  “No, but I began to document the bruises he left behind when he flew into a rage. I took pictures and wrote notes and began to plan my escape. Finally, when the day came, I confronted him with the fact that I had proof of his abuse and he had two choices—give me a divorce and let me go or be exposed and he’d be destroyed both publicly and privately. We divorced, I left and I’ve never seen him again.”

  There was so much she’d left out, such devastation that she refused to speak aloud, but there was really no reason for him to know the complete details of the horror. She’d given him what he needed to find out if her ex-husband was responsible for what had occurred here in Wolf Creek.

  “Please, don’t mention any of this to anyone else. I never told my sisters or anyone about my marriage...about the abuse,” she said. “I’ve never talked about it until now with anybody.”

  Frank walked several steps closer, until he stood so close to her that she could smell his cologne, feel the heat from his body that radiated over her.

  He reached up and placed his palms on either side of her face. “This is a beautiful face with or without makeup and I promise you nobody is ever going to hurt you again, at least not while I’m in the picture.”

  For a moment she thought he was going to kiss her, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted him to or not. Instead he pulled her into an embrace. She fought it, remaining stiff and unyielding, but within seconds she relaxed into the strength of his arms, felt his heart beating steady and slow against her racing one.

  Time stood still as she remained in his embrace. There was no gunman shooting at her, no dysfunctional marriage to the abusive Matt, no devastation to think about—there was just Frank.

  It had been years since she’d felt safe, but there was definitely safety in his embrace, a sense of protection she’d never felt before. She wanted to stay there forever, and yet all too quickly he dropped his arms, grabbed her hand and led her back to the table, where she once again found herself seated across from him.

  “It should be easy enough to check out the Honorable Matt McGraw,” he said. “Our issue now is what to do with you.”

  “Me?” She looked at him in surprise. “I just assumed I’d go home today.”

  “You assumed wrong. Everyone in town knows you live above Minnie’s place. We need to stash you somewhere that you’ll be safe until we get to the bottom of this.”

  “But what about my work?” she protested. What about her life? She wanted to tell him that she needed to be back at her own little apartment, but she also knew that if she wasn’t smart she wouldn’t have a life to return to...she’d be dead.

  “Sheri will have to figure something out at the store for the time being,” he replied. “What about moving in with her for a couple of days?”

  Marlene immediately shook her head. “No way. And staying with Roxy is out of the question, as well. The last thing I want to do is bring any kind of danger to them.” She frowned thoughtfully. “What about Aunt Liz’s house? Everyone thinks it’s empty. I could stay there and nobody would be the wiser.”

  Besides, she would feel at home there. She wouldn’t be an imposition to anyone and she wouldn’t be placing anyone else she cared about at risk.

  He frowned thoughtfully. “You couldn’t turn on lights after dark or peek your nose out of a window or the door for any reason throughout the day and night.”

  “She has blackout curtains in her bedroom. She’s
one of those people who can’t sleep if there is any illumination at all drifting into the room. I could read with a small light or work on my computer in there and nobody would ever see anything from the outside of the house.”

  “Sounds like it might work. The last thing I want to do is change my routine in a way that would draw any attention to you or your whereabouts.”

  “What about right now? Shouldn’t you be at work?”

  “It’s Saturday, which just happens to be one of my days off this week, so it won’t look strange at all that I’m not in the office today.” He shoved his coffee cup aside. “You can hang tight here today and then tonight we’ll move you.”

  “Then how about I start your day by fixing some breakfast?” she offered as she once again got up from the table. She needed something to keep her busy, something to keep her mind occupied and away from subjects that scared her. Experiences that haunted her.

  “You don’t have to cook for me,” he protested.

  “I know that, but I’d like to. If you have the ingredients, I can whip up some homemade biscuits and make gravy.”

  “Keep talking like that and I’ll just hide you out here with me for a while longer,” he said with a smile.

  A wistful yearning swept through her, a yearning instantly doused by reality. And reality was that Frank was a good man who obviously loved long and deep. When he decided it was time to fall in love again it wouldn’t be with damaged goods like her.

  She hadn’t shared with him the real damage that had been done to her heart, to the very depths of her soul. But she knew the truth, and that was that despite his interest in her, in spite of his light flirtation, she would never allow it to go any further.

  Her punishment for her mistakes was a life alone, without happiness, without love. It was only fitting for a woman like her, a woman who had killed her own baby.

  Chapter 8

  It was a strange day. Frank wasn’t accustomed to anyone being in the house with him. He hadn’t realized how dark the corners had grown, how used to the silence he’d become until Marlene filled the house with light and sound.

  As she worked in the kitchen making breakfast, Frank had gotten on his computer in the living room and had surfed the internet for anything he could find on Matt McGraw. And there was plenty to find.

  It was obvious the Honorable Matt McGraw was a social and political butterfly. His photo graced the society pages frequently with movers and shakers on a local and national level.

  And he liked to beat up women. Frank’s stomach twisted with a knot of suppressed rage. He knew that Marlene hadn’t given him the whole story about the depths of her suffering at the hands of her husband.

  The knot in his stomach twisted tighter when he found a photo of Matt and Marlene attending a charity function. It had obviously been in the early stages of their marriage, for Marlene’s smile held the hope of ever-after love as she gazed up at her handsome husband.

  He stopped working when she announced that breakfast was ready. They ate and talked about the weather and the tourists who would soon fill the small town and other topics that were light and easy.

  He sat and finished a cup of coffee as she cleared the dishes, enjoying the fact that she hummed just beneath her breath while working, that she emanated an energy the house hadn’t felt in a very long time, and that she smiled more often than he’d ever seen her despite everything that had happened to her in the past twenty-four hours.

  As he thought about the way she’d looked in bed the night before, his heart beat a little bit faster and a warmth swept through him. He wanted her. He wanted to tangle his hands in her silky hair and feel her nakedness next to his own.

  He didn’t just want her body; he wanted her mind, as well. He’d like to crawl into her head and know her thoughts, ease any anguish he discovered there, and soothe every fear.

  He knew he couldn’t maintain these kinds of thought about her. He had to stay focused on the case.

  After breakfast he instructed her to write out what things she’d like picked up from her apartment that she could take with her to Liz’s place. Frank would have Jimmy pick up the items so that she would have clothing and whatever else she needed during her time in hiding.

  Without a personal phone number for Matt McGraw, Frank knew he wouldn’t be able to find out much about the man’s location until Monday, when the courthouse would be open, but he did learn from Pittsburgh law officials that Matt McGraw wasn’t home. They agreed to do occasional drive-bys and report back to Frank if the judge returned to his home.

  By noon Frank had spoken to both his partners and made arrangements for Jimmy to come by to get the list of items from Marlene’s apartment that she’d prepared. Steve and Jimmy had checked the woods behind the store that morning to see if the shooter had left any evidence that they’d missed in the darkness the night before, but they’d found nothing. Frank hadn’t really expected them to.

  Marlene spoke to Sheri about taking off some time and Sheri had assured her that between Abe and Jennifer the store would be fine. The important thing was that Marlene stay safe. Marlene also spoke to Roxy, but she didn’t tell either of her sisters where she was going to be holed up. The fewer people who knew where she was, the better.

  Jimmy came by just after lunch to get the list from Marlene, who blushed as she told him where to get underclothing and other personal items from her place. After Jimmy left, Marlene professed the need for a nap and disappeared into the room where she’d spent the night. Suddenly the house was too quiet again.

  Frank stood at his front window and stared out, wondering if anyone knew that Marlene was here with him, checking the street for any car that might appear suspicious.

  Deciding it was a good time to do something normal like the much-needed yard work, he left a note on the table for Marlene, put on his holster and gun, and then headed outside.

  As he mowed the lawn and then pulled weeds, his head spun with thoughts of the attacks on Marlene and the plan to stash her in her missing aunt’s house.

  It wouldn’t necessarily be unusual for Steve, Jimmy or himself to be at the house, as everyone in town assumed it was still a crime scene that the detectives continued to check out. There would be no reason for anyone else to enter the premises. Surely she would be safe there for the time being.

  He’d just finished digging up the last of the weeds when Jimmy pulled in. He parked in the driveway, and Frank watched as he opened his trunk and got out a large pink duffel bag and a smaller pink-and-black polka-dot suitcase.

  “Nice,” Frank said, brushing his hands off on his jeans. “I always thought you were a pink kind of guy.”

  Jimmy carried both items to where Frank stood and dropped the two bags at his feet. “This was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I felt like some kind of a pervert pawing through her underwear drawer and picking out makeup.”

  Frank transferred the bags from the driveway into his car trunk with a laugh. “I appreciate your willingness to go above and beyond the boundaries of your duties.” He closed the trunk and turned to face his partner, more sober as he thought of the plans he’d made. “Do you think this will work?”

  Jimmy shrugged his broad shoulders. “I think it’s as good a plan as anything. She definitely shouldn’t go back to her own place, and since the shooter saw the two of you together, it’s probably not a good idea for her to stay here for any length of time. We can take turns checking in on her and maybe that will confuse whoever is after her.”

  “That’s my hope,” Frank said, his heart constricting as he thought of anything bad happening to Marlene. She’d already had enough bad stuff in her life. She didn’t deserve any of this or what she’d already endured.

  “Call me if you need anything else, otherwise I assume you’ll be at the station tomorrow morning as usual?”

  Frank
nodded. “Thanks again, Jimmy. I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

  By the time Frank got back into the house, the scent of something delicious wafted from the kitchen. The last time he’d walked into his house and it had smelled like this had been during the year of his marriage. That was the last time it had smelled like home.

  He followed his nose into the kitchen, where Marlene stood in front of the stove. She turned as if she’d sensed his presence even though he hadn’t made a sound.

  “I found a pound of hamburger in your freezer and decided to fix a pot of goulash for dinner. I hope that’s okay.”

  “It’s more than okay, and it smells delicious.” He sat down at the table. “Jimmy just brought your things. I loaded them into my car trunk. We’ll move you tonight after dark. Are you okay with the plan?” Even though it had been her idea, he needed to know that she was still on board.

  “Definitely. Since Aunt Liz disappeared, I’ve been at the house occasionally to bake. I feel safe there. I always have. Even now with her missing, the place still breathes of her and that’s comforting.” She turned back around to the stove to stir the pot of goulash. “This will be ready in about fifteen minutes if you want to clean up. I know you’ve been doing yard work.”

  “I’m sorry. I just realized that about the time you decided to take a nap, I decided to mow the lawn. I didn’t think about the noise of the mower bothering you.” He got up from the chair, knowing he needed to shower before dinner.

  Once again she turned to face him. “Actually, I found the sound of the mower very lulling. It sounded so normal and there hasn’t been much normal since the night Michael broke into my apartment.”

  “I want to give you better than normal back,” Frank said, moving closer to her. “I wish I could take away any horrible memory you have of your marriage. I wish you’d never endured what you did, and if we find out Matt is responsible for what’s happening now, then I won’t stop until he’s behind bars for a very long time.”