Not crying laughing. Crying period.
Dylan’s laughter trailed off and Luke cleared his throat, handing her a tissue. She took it and cried some more, hating that she was breaking down in front of them, the two people she wanted to be strong for, the ones she cared about most.
Pulling herself together, she blew her nose and took a long drink of water.
“Are you okay?” Luke asked, glancing down at her hand.
Her malady was general hysteria, not hemotoxic shock. “I’m fine,” she said, offering him a wobbly smile.
“Because I can take you back—”
“No.” She darted a nervous glance at Dylan. “Really.”
Her brother frowned at Luke. “Take her back where?”
Luke’s eyes bored into hers, letting her know that if she didn’t tell Dylan what happened, he would. “The hospital,” she said, sighing.
Dylan straightened in his chair. “What happened?”
“Someone left a snake at the preserve. I was careless in handling it.”
“What kind of snake?”
“A rattler.”
“You got bit by a rattlesnake?” he asked, raising his voice.
“It was more of a graze. No venom.”
“Jesus Christ! What the hell is wrong with you?”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she returned, her insides quaking. “I don’t need you slashing tires to defend my honor. You could have been kicked out of school!”
Dylan leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, reverting into sullen silence.
Shay felt so many conflicting emotions she couldn’t sort through them all. She was proud of her brother for standing up for her but disappointed in him for acting so rashly. As usual, she couldn’t prevent him from causing trouble.
“I have to go talk to Garrett,” Luke said after a moment. “Will you be all right for an hour or so until I get back?”
“Of course,” she murmured. “Be careful.”
“I will,” he promised, rising from his chair and giving her a quick peck on the cheek before he went out the door.
The way he’d said good-bye was so offhand, and felt so natural, that the implications of his actions didn’t sink in right away. If Dylan hadn’t been staring at her like she’d grown three heads, she might not have realized that she and Luke had just acted like a couple.
She lifted a hand to her cheek, feeling it grow warm. “What?”
“You’re in love with the sheriff,” he said, awestruck.
“Not even,” she lied.
The corner of his mouth tipped up. “Well, he’s in love with you.”
That was a far more outrageous notion, and one she didn’t have the heart to protest. The idea was too painful, and it made the empty place inside her ache to be filled.
Betty appeared beside her with a carafe, ready to fill something else. “Coffee?”
“No thanks,” Shay said, covering the rim of her mug. The small red mark on the edge of her thumb was clearly visible under the fluorescent lights.
“What happened there?”
“Nothing.” She drew her hand back self-consciously. To take the attention away from herself, she nodded at Betty, who had her forearm wrapped in gauze. Shay had noticed the bandage a few days ago. “How about you?”
“Just a cat scratch,” she replied, winking at Dylan. “What’ll you have?”
Her brother asked for a burger with the works and a chocolate shake. Shay’s appetite was off, for once in her life, so she requested a small order of fries.
“Coming right up,” Betty said, whisking away their menus.
Shay picked at her napkin, considering what to say next. They hadn’t talked about their parents in longer than she could remember. He always changed the subject. “I know you miss Mom and Dad,” she began. “I miss them, too. That hunting knife—”
“You don’t know anything,” he said, his face darkening with anger.
She threw up her hands in frustration. “Then talk to me! How am I supposed to understand if you won’t let me in?”
He looked down at the table, avoiding her eyes.
“I don’t know what to do with you,” she said, feeling as inadequate as ever. “I can’t stop you from getting angry, and I can’t keep you from being self-destructive. I’ve tried to do right by you, but I don’t know where else to turn. I don’t know anything about being a proper guardian.” She leaned toward him, her voice strained. “I’m not your mother, damn it!”
His head jerked up. “You’re not my mother,” he repeated, studying her face. “Who took care of me when I was little?”
Shay stared back at him in silence, feeling her throat tighten.
“Who walked me to the bus stop? Who cooked me dinner? Who tucked me in at night?”
Tears welled in her eyes. She hadn’t known he remembered.
“I didn’t give a damn when Dad left, because I never counted on him,” he continued. “He was useless most of the time. I knew better than to expect him to stay. And as for Mom … I never knew her at all.”
“Oh, Dylan,” she whispered, blinking the tears from her eyes.
“The person I counted on was you. As far as I was concerned, you were my mother. I was never mad at them for leaving. They weren’t worth it. I was mad at you.”
Her heart felt like it was being wrenched from her chest. She pressed a fist to the front of her T-shirt, trying to alleviate the pressure. “You know I had to go to college.”
“You left in spirit way before that. Running wild with your loser boyfriend. Sure, you came back to Tenaja Falls, and now you support us financially. But you haven’t really been home since Mom killed herself.”
The instant the words left his mouth, she knew he was right. She’d been so concerned with maintaining the status quo and ensuring his continued success in school, she’d completely forgotten how to relate to him as a human being.
She hadn’t been a mother or a sister; she’d been an emotional wasteland.
“I’m sorry,” she said, stunned by the realization. “I don’t know what to say. Except that you’re right. I’m such a screwup.”
His expression softened. “No, you’re not. Mom and Dad were screwups.”
“They loved you.”
He shrugged, not bothering to contradict her.
Tears filled her eyes again. “I love you.”
“I know,” he said, smiling a little. He might have said more, but Betty brought their plates, interrupting the sentimental moment. When forced to decide between making sappy remarks and chowing down on a loaded burger, Dylan made the predictable choice and dug in with his trademark gusto.
Nevertheless, she was pleased with the direction of the conversation. She hadn’t felt this close to her brother in ages. A warm contentment came over her, tempered only slightly by her confusion about her feelings for Luke and a bone-deep weariness.
“I’ll try to do better,” she said, nibbling on a french fry. “Be home more.”
“You do okay,” he allowed, taking another huge bite.
Her lips curved as she studied him from across the table. For the first time, her brother looked more like a man than a boy to her, and the sight unsettled her. With his dark blond hair and intense blue eyes, he was the spitting image of their father. And even with blood on his face and a torn T-shirt, he was handsome.
She should be thankful he’d never had any luck with girls.
On the heels of that thought, Angel’s father, Fernando Martinez, parked his truck outside the café. Dylan went very still, as if expecting some kind of confrontation, but Fernando merely waved hello as he came through the front door. While he waited for Betty at the register, he took a handkerchief out of his back pocket and wiped his lined forehead. As usual, he looked tired.
Betty reappeared from the kitchen, greeting Fernando with a nervous smile. She handed him some bills from the register.
Their exchange was none of her business, so Shay turned back to
Dylan, shoving a few more french fries in her mouth.
“I have to talk to Fernando,” Dylan said in a low voice.
“Why?”
A flush crept up his neck. “I was with Angel earlier, and she … she left town. She ran away to Vegas. I watched her get on the bus.”
“Why would she go there?”
His mouth turned grim. “I think she’s planning on doing something stupid. Like getting a job at a strip club.”
Uh-oh. With her face and body, Angel wouldn’t have any trouble finding work in Vegas. “When did the bus leave?”
He glanced at the clock. “Over an hour ago.”
Shay didn’t need to hear any more. “Go tell him now,” she said, urging him to his feet. “Maybe he can catch up with her.”
25
As soon as Luke got in his truck, his radio crackled with distortion. “Domestic disturbance. Reported by a female resident at 420 Larkspur Lane.”
A chill raced down Luke’s spine. That was Garrett’s address.
“Please be advised that the suspect is an off-duty police officer. He should be considered armed and dangerous.”
Luke responded to the call, driving as fast as he dared down Tenaja Falls’s main drag. He knew from experience that this type of situation had to be handled carefully. Violent acts against women were usually perpetrated by a husband or boyfriend, and a man at home could be extremely defensive.
Being on his own turf, he also had a hell of an advantage.
When Luke pulled up to the driveway, he saw that Garrett wasn’t holed up inside his house, pointing a rifle through the mini-blinds. He was sitting in his police car in the front drive, holding his service revolver to his right temple.
Staving off a rush of panic, Luke picked up his radio and called in the details. Talking down a suicidal officer was way out of his area of expertise, but he might not have time to wait for backup.
Had Garrett done something to Lori? Men who committed suicide often did so after harming someone else.
Another feeling came over him, one of almost uncontrollable fury. Garrett had a connection to Yesenia Montes and a well-known gambling problem. According to Dylan, he’d also been on the reservation the day of the fire. It wouldn’t surprise Luke if he’d borrowed money from Bull Ryan to pay off Moses Rivers.
Garrett had been quick to point his finger at the rez, after all. He’d probably planted the arrowhead with the snake at Dark Canyon. In addition to his other crimes, if he was indeed guilty, Garrett had tried to kill Shay.
At that moment, Luke didn’t give a damn about duty, and he wasn’t the least bit concerned about his deputy’s future.
Garrett only had to live long enough to suffer.
Luke got out of his truck, surveying the scene. Lori Snell was pacing the front lawn, tears streaming down her face, a cordless phone in her hand. Although she appeared unhurt, she was about a hundred feet from the driveway, well within Garrett’s range.
Keeping a visual on Garrett, his hand on his holster, he approached Lori. Her eyes were dark with misery and her cheeks ashen. He’d never seen her before, but despite her frantic state she was pretty, and his disdain for Garrett deepened.
“Where’s the baby?” he asked, remembering she had a young child.
She hugged her arms around herself. “With my m-m-mother.”
“Good. Why’s he doing this?”
Shaking her head, she said, “W-we had a fight, but—I don’t think that’s it. Something else is bothering him.”
Keeping his hand on his gun, he surveyed the neighborhood. Two doors down, there was an older woman looking through the window. “You know the lady in the blue house?”
Her head bobbed up and down. “Yes.”
“Go over there and let her make you a cup of tea.” He knew it sounded condescending, but he needed to know she was safe. “I can’t do my job if I’m worried about you running out here and getting in the way.”
She moistened her lips. “Okay. But just—don’t shoot him. Please?”
Luke snuck another glance at Garrett. Even from this distance, he could see that the deputy’s entire body was trembling, and his gun hand was none too steady.
Damn.
“I won’t,” he promised, and hoped he could keep it. Garrett would have to pay for what he’d done, and although shooting him sounded tempting, he wouldn’t do it unless he had to. He’d never killed a man before. He’d never wanted to.
After one last pleading look, Lori hurried across the lawns and into her neighbor’s house. As soon as she was out of sight, Luke turned and walked back toward the driveway, making a wide circle around Garrett’s cruiser. The black-and-white squad car looked shiny and sleek in the twilight, a lurking shark in troubled waters.
Flexing his fingers, Luke approached slowly, his heart in his throat, sweat stinging his eyes. Forty feet. Thirty.
“Don’t come any closer,” Garrett warned.
Luke stopped twenty feet away from the driver’s side, staying in Garrett’s line of sight but keeping his body at an angle. If Garrett decided to turn his gun on Luke, it would be awkward for him to shoot over his left shoulder. “I just want to talk.”
“Stay away!”
Luke came closer. Ten feet. Close enough to see the sheen of perspiration on Garrett’s brow. “Tell me what happened.”
Garrett let out a strangled sound, somewhere between a sob and a laugh.
“I just want to talk,” Luke repeated, hearing the strain in his own voice.
Garrett’s gun hand wobbled precariously. “Get away from me!”
“I’ll take off my gun belt. Watch.” With steady movements, he unfastened his belt and laid it down on the concrete, straightening and holding his arms high.
“Stay back!”
Luke took a deep breath and stepped forward. “I’m unarmed, Garrett. I couldn’t grab your gun from here even if I wanted to. If you’re going to pull the trigger, I can’t stop you. But first tell me why. Tell me what happened.”
Garrett’s eyes darted back toward the front of the house, looking for Lori.
“You owe it to your wife,” he said, struck by a flash of inspiration. “You want her to think you’ve done this because of her?”
Garrett’s face crumpled. “N-no.”
Luke wasn’t sure he understood the belated concern for Lori. Garrett certainly hadn’t been thinking about his wife while he was fooling around with Yesenia Montes.
“There is one thing I’d like you to tell her.”
“Name it.”
“I lied about having sex with Yesenia. I used that as an excuse because I knew people had seen us together.”
Luke hadn’t expected this particular confession. “What were you doing with her?”
Garrett made a sniffling noise. “I set her up on dates sometimes. Introduced her to people. Drove her around.”
Luke was baffled. “Why?”
“She gave me a cut.”
Realization dawned. His sheriff’s deputy was a pimp. And here Luke thought Tenaja Falls would be less tawdry than Las Vegas.
“I have a gambling problem, in case you didn’t know,” Garrett continued in a self-deprecating tone. “I needed the extra income.”
“You’ve overextended yourself?”
“And then some. We’re going to lose the house. Lori will be better off without me.”
“She won’t get a dime of insurance money if you pull the trigger,” Luke said, relaxing his stance a little. He was pretty sure Garrett wasn’t going to shoot him, or anyone else. “You know, I’ve never really liked guns,” he added, offhand.
Garrett blinked a few times. “You—you haven’t?”
“Nah. That was one of the reasons I accepted this position in Tenaja Falls. I didn’t think I’d have to wear my gun all the time.”
“That’s … stupid,” Garrett decided. “You can’t make a routine traffic stop these days without worrying you’ll catch some psycho behind the wheel.”
Lu
ke found that statement pretty ironic, considering the current situation. “Yeah, I guess. I think I’ll quit wearing it anyway. I don’t like shooting them. I certainly didn’t like getting shot. And the mess they make!” Grimacing, he surveyed the Vic’s interior. “You ever seen a man take a hit to the head at close range?”
Garrett swallowed a few times, looking queasy.
“What am I saying? Of course you have. Must’ve been brains all over in Iraq.”
Garrett’s lips curled back in distaste, but he couldn’t deny it.
“You don’t want your wife to see that, man. Lori will be upset about the house. But she’d be more upset about losing her house and the father of her baby.” Luke put his hand near the open window. “Give me the gun.”
“No.”
“Give me the gun, Garrett. Don’t wait until the whole neighborhood comes out. This place will be swarming with squad cars from the Palomar substation in a few minutes.”
After another moment of indecision, Garrett capitulated, placing his revolver in the palm of Luke’s hand.
As Luke wrapped his fingers around the sweaty, skin-warmed steel, he experienced a powerful surge of rage. The temptation to shove the barrel against Garrett’s skull and demand some answers was overwhelming. Now he knew why cops sometimes lost control with suspects. “Get out,” he said, engaging the safety and tucking the gun into the back of his pants.
“Wh—what? Why?”
“You know procedure as well as I do, Garrett. I’ll be sure to mention that I had your full cooperation when I file my report. Now get the fuck out of the car.”
Garrett opened the driver’s-side door and stepped out, groaning as he considered the ramifications of his actions. Luke had him sprawled over the hood, his hands cuffed behind his back, before he could change his mind.
“Tell me what you did with Yesenia,” he demanded, kicking his feet apart.
“Nothing,” Garrett said. “Nothing, I swear.”
Luke patted him down roughly, every muscle in his body poised to fight. Following instinct instead of procedure, he jerked the cuffs up and shoved Garrett’s head down on the hood, applying what he knew to be a painful amount of pressure. “If you don’t start talking I’ll smear your face all over this driveway.”
Set the Dark on Fire Page 29