A Piece of My Heart

by Sharon Sala

  The feel of her body against him, the brush of that black silky hair against the back of his hands as she hugged him was like turning off a switch. The adrenaline rush moving him forward dropped as he pulled her close. At that moment, she completely forgot about the news crew and what they might be filming.

  Lon was pulled away to assist until the front of the station was full of officers from the Savannah Police Department. One cop walked into the store to check out the ongoing activity and then focused on the beauty with the long dark hair standing behind the counter. “Do you work here?” he asked.

  “No, I’m with the police chief from Blessings. He’s the one in the corner talking to a detective. We stopped for gas. He was refueling when I came inside to use the bathroom. Before I knew it, all of this was going down.”

  “There’s blood on the back of your jacket,” he said.

  She frowned as she felt for a cut on the back of her neck and felt a sting when she brushed across what must have been a scratch. “The sorry bastard must have scratched me when he grabbed me from behind.”

  Lon was on his way back inside when he overheard the conversation. He hurried toward her. “Let me see,” he said.

  She lifted her hair and turned around. “Just his fingernails, I imagine,” she said.

  Lon waved down one of the EMTs, who cleaned the area with disinfectant and sprayed it with something that stopped the bleeding. “You’re good to go,” the EMT said, and went out behind the last gurney.

  The last of the ambulances were loaded, and they hit the siren and lights as they drove away. Just when Lon thought they might be free to go, the detective he’d been talking to approached.

  He sighed. Yet another witness statement. It was already nearing 2:00 a.m. There was no way they’d make it back to Blessings before morning. He called the precinct. “Larry, it’s me. We’ve had a delay getting out of Savannah. How’s everything going?”

  “Fine. The Rogers finally quit shouting at each other and went to sleep. Did you find the girl?”

  “Yes, we did. She’s safe, and we’ll figure it out in the days to come. Who’s the arraigning judge tomorrow? Please tell me it’s not Judge Herd.”

  “Let me check the schedule…uh, no, not Herd. It’s Judge Parsons. Are you guys okay?”

  “Actually, we stopped for gas before leaving the city and walked in on a robbery. We’re fine, but the clerk is not, and I had to shoot two of the perps. By the time we’re through here, it’s going to be close to dawn. Just keep the coffee made, and we’ll be there as soon as we can.”

  “Will do,” Larry said, and hung up.

  Dan Lowery, the same detective from the robbery division who had interviewed him, was talking to Mercy when Lon walked up. “You knew your assailant?” the detective asked.

  “Sort of,” Mercy said. “I know he goes by the name Big Boy. He frequents the Road Warrior Bar where I used to work. He was always harassing the waitresses.”

  “He grabbed her from behind,” Lon said.

  “And you two know each other?” Lowery asked.

  Lon nodded. “I was working a runaway case—an underage teen from Blessings. Miss Dane had prior information from her years of living here that gave me the first much needed lead. We found the girl safe and sound, then tied up the loose ends of the trip, and were headed home when I stopped for gas. I’m wishing now I’d stopped somewhere else or paid attention to Mercy’s claim. This isn’t a safe part of town.”

  Detective Lowery nodded, kept taking notes, and asked questions until satisfied that he had all he needed. “You know where you can find me,” Lon said as they parted company with the man, and then took Mercy’s hand. “Are you ready to go home?”

  “Yes.”

  They exited the station in full view of the news crew still on site. “Keep walking, and don’t look up,” Lon said as someone shouted, trying to get them to answer some questions.

  Lon made it all the way to his cruiser and got them both inside just as the mobile news van left the scene. Glad that they were gone, he turned to clasp Mercy’s hands. “Sweet lord, I have never been so scared. I promised you and everyone else I would keep you safe, and the first time you leave my sight, you’re assaulted. Are you okay? Please tell me you are.”

  “I’m fine, really,” Mercy said. “I was more mad than hurt. All he got was my hair, and he let go of that real fast when I hit him with eight pounds of granulated de-icer. He’s not going to be straddling a bike anytime soon.”

  “Remind me not to ever tick you off,” he said, and then groaned. “Dang it. I still haven’t refueled.” He brushed a finger down the side of her cheek and then opened the door.

  Mercy felt the cold, but she didn’t say it, and took comfort in knowing their time together still wasn’t over.

  Lon ran his card through pump four and then went back inside to ask one of the cops to turn it on. He swung sideways to the wind as he went back, more than ready to be gone.

  When he finally got inside, he was shaking from the cold. He pulled a handful of wet wipes out of the dispenser and scrubbed the rest of the bloodstains and gas from his hands before he started the car.

  The whole time, Mercy sat quietly, watching the expressions on his face. He looked at her from time to time, as if reassuring himself she was okay, and Mercy silently cursed the console between them, wishing she could slide closer.

  When he finished, he rolled down the window, tossed the wipes into the trash can between the pumps, and quickly rolled it back up. “Are you okay? Ready to roll?”

  She nodded, and turned up the heat.

  “Thanks. That heat feels good.”

  “It does, doesn’t it?”

  He nodded. The silence drew out between them until he felt uneasy all over again and wondered if that glimpse into a cop’s life had upset her. “Did the shooting freak you out?”

  When she hesitated, Lon thought it would be an answer he didn’t want to hear. Then her voice filled the silence. “The only part that upset me was when I thought they were going to kill you. All I could think was, well damn, just when I was getting used to having you around.”

  He laughed, but only so he wouldn’t start crying. On a cold, Savannah night, he fell the rest of the way in love. “I lost track of you once. I’m not going to do that again,” he said.

  Mercy’s eyes welled. “Just so you know, as good as this makes me feel, all of this forever stuff makes me wary. I’ve made promises to myself, but no one has ever made one to me and kept it.”

  Loving this woman was like hanging onto a slippery slope. Would she let him hang alone until he fell, or finally reach out and pull him in?

  “I know you’ve had a hard life, but please don’t see me as part of it. Except for one brief and glorious night with you, which, by the way, you ended, I’ve had no part in your past. But I want to be in your future. All I ask is that you give me a chance.”

  Mercy had dreamed of a man who would say pretty things to her and mean them. Everything in her was saying trust him, love him, believe every word. But all she could give him right now was her truth. “I’m giving you more than I’ve ever given anyone. I’m trying so hard to learn this life and how it works. I’m not going to quit you, cop. Just hold onto that, and let me get there on my own.”

  “I can do that,” Lon said. “And when things get weird, let me know. I’m already holding on to you as tightly as I dare. All you have to do is trust me. I won’t let you down.”

  Lon could see the interstate signs and what exit to take to get them home now. “You’ve had enough excitement for one night. I know where we are now. Close your eyes and rest, baby.”

  “I can’t sleep when someone else is driving,” she said, and then made a liar of herself by reclining in the seat and closing her eyes.

  There was a great big crack in the wall that kept her safe from the outside world,
and her cop had cracked it with a smile, a kiss, and promises he’d already kept. She wanted to turn loose and just go for it. She wanted to believe he would love her as fiercely as she was falling in love with him.

  “Sleep well, sweetheart,” Lon said.

  She fell asleep within minutes.

  He smiled to himself. Even if she wouldn’t admit it, she had to trust him, or she wouldn’t have closed her eyes. Now the rest was up to him, and he had this. He’d known the moment he’d seen her in danger that he didn’t want a life without her. All he had to do was wait for her to come to the same conclusion. As for now, he just kept driving. His first duty of this new day was to get her home, and he did.

  It was nearly 3:00 a.m. when he turned off the blacktop and headed up the drive to the Talbot farm. Mercy woke just as he was pulling to a stop. “You’re home,” he said softly. “I’m not going in and rouse everyone in the house. I’ll hear about it soon enough that I didn’t take very good care of you.”

  “I’m not going to wake them either, and stop saying that. I don’t need anyone to take care of me. I’ve been in worse danger walking from work to home and back again. I did that for three years, in the rain, in the cold, and in miserable heat, and nobody knew I existed. I did not suddenly become helpless just because I learned I have family.”

  Lon sighed. “Point taken,” he said, and then got out to walk her to the house.

  She unlocked the front door, but instead of going inside, she followed her heart. She’d wanted to be in his arms ever since they’d started home, and she wasn’t going to miss the opportunity. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into his embrace.

  “As soon as I can find a job and a place to live, I’m moving into Blessings. I already told Hope. I’m not by any means moving away from her, but I’ll take care of myself.”

  Lon shoved his fingers through her hair, feeling the long silken strands tangling around his wrists as he pulled her close. “I will never argue with your right to choose, but I hope there comes a time in your life when you’re willing to share it with me.”

  She sighed as he centered his mouth on her lips and then groaned when he cupped her hips and pulled her close. “Just a reminder,” he said as he finally turned her loose.

  “A reminder of what?” she asked.

  “How it feels when we make love. Now go to bed before Duke and Jack feel the need to defend your honor.”

  She slipped inside, locking the door behind her, then tiptoed upstairs and into her room, being as quiet as possible.

  The house was warm so she stripped where she stood, pulled a nightgown over her head, and went to bed. Within minutes, she was fast asleep.

  Hope had heard the car drive up, and then the door unlock, then Mercy going upstairs.

  Thank you, Lord, for bringing her safely home.

  Confident that all was right in her world, she rolled over and into Jack’s arms. “You okay?” he mumbled.

  “I’m fine,” she whispered. “Just fine.”

  Chapter 20

  Lon spent four hours on the sofa in his office before the alarm on his phone went off. He’d had some long nights on the job before, but none quite as harrowing.

  He kicked off the blanket with a groan and got up, then went to the adjoining bathroom to freshen up for the day. He had a clean uniform on site, as well as an electric razor and toothbrush. Within a few minutes, he was as good as he was going to be today, and left his office, hoping someone had already made coffee and brought something in to eat.

  After scoring a cherry Danish and a cup of coffee, he headed back to the jail. The Rogers were up and sniping at each, but in a normal tone of voice. But when they saw the police chief walk in, they were both on their feet and shouting. “Let us out! How dare you keep us in jail? We demand to see a lawyer.”

  He walked all the way up to the bars, eyeing them as he would animals in a cage, trying to figure out what made people like this tick. It wasn’t until Betty Rogers turned on the tears and asked for news of their girl, Kelly, that he broke silence. “Mrs. Rogers.”

  She was still weeping and had started to pace. “Mrs. Rogers,” he repeated. When she kept on wailing, he got in her face, with nothing but the bars between them. “Shut the hell up!”

  She gasped.

  Paul opened his mouth to protest, and Lon pointed a finger and shook his head. Paul dropped back down on the bunk, but the rage on his face said it all.

  “Now. The jig is up. There’s no one left to threaten. Kelly is safe, and that’s all you get to know. When you do get your time with a lawyer, be aware that the district attorney in Savannah is quite likely to open an investigation into your years as foster parents and the alleged abuse the children suffered while under your care.”

  Paul leaped to his feet raging, while Betty was suddenly silent. “They’re lying. Whatever they said is a lie. Was it Kelly? Is that how she repaid us? By accusing us of something terrible just because we refused to raise her bastard?”

  Betty ducked her head and started to cry. “Oh, thank God,” she moaned. “I’ve lived my life in mortal fear of this man. Whoever finally told on him has done me a huge favor…maybe even saved my life!”

  Lon was startled by the admission, but he wasn’t fooled. Especially when Paul Rogers leaped toward the bars that separated the two cells and screamed, “You bitch! You evil, conniving bitch! You’re the one who made them scrub toilets with a toothbrush. You’re the one who put them in solitary confinement.”

  Lon watched her turning from victim to a person capable of murder as she ran toward the bars and tried to scratch out her husband’s eyes.

  This situation had to be rectified and fast, so he opened a cell at the other end of the jail, and then went back up the hall. “Hey, buddy! You look pretty rough. Are you sure you’re okay to work today?”

  Avery nodded. “I’m just as miserable at home as I am up here, and I’m not contagious.”

  “It’s your call, but let me know if you need to leave, okay?”

  “What’s up with all that screaming?” he asked.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Rogers are not happy with each other. I need a deputy to the jail.”

  “Yes, sir, I’ll dispatch the message.”

  “Tell them ASAP, or I’m going to need an undertaker instead,” Lon said.

  Three minutes later, Deputy Ralph arrived and came hurrying in through the back door with his hand on his weapon. He heard the commotion in the jail and came inside running.

  “Chief?”

  “Oh…hey, Howard. Thanks for getting here so quickly. As you can see, the Mr. and Mrs. aren’t getting along so well. We’re going in her cell to handcuff her, and then move her to the cell at the far end of the jail.”

  Howard Ralph wasn’t as big as the chief, but what he lacked in size, he made up for in determination. “Then let’s get it done.”

  The couple was so embroiled in their own war that both officers were inside Betty’s cell before she knew it was open. When the chief grabbed one wrist and Howard grabbed the other, they had her face against a wall and cuffed her before she had time to object. But when they began moving her out, she objected, kicking and trying to dig in with her feet, and then finally collapsing, thinking they would stop. Instead, they hauled her upright and took her down the hall with the tops of her feet dragging along the floor.

  “What are you doing?” she cried. “I don’t want to be down here by myself.”

  “Turn around,” Lon said, and when she didn’t obey, he turned her anyway, faced her against the far wall, and removed the cuffs.

  He and Howard were out before she turned around. She ran toward the door as it slammed in her face. Lon turned the lock. “Do you have a lawyer?” he asked.

  “We can’t afford a lawyer!” she said.

  “I’ll notify the court,” he said, and walked back toward Paul’
s cell.

  “Mr. Rogers, do you and Betty intend to share a lawyer?”

  “Hell no!” he shouted. “The bitch is trying to get me locked up.”

  “Then do you have a lawyer?” Lon asked.

  Paul Rogers slumped. “No.”

  “I’ll notify the court,” he repeated. “Breakfast is on the way. Have a seat. Food digests so much better when you’re calm.”

  He and the deputy shut the door to the jail and headed up the hall. “Got some good Danish in the break room,” Lon said.

  Howard nodded. “Thanks, Chief. I believe I’ll take one with me as I get back on patrol.”

  “Appreciate the help,” Lon said, and took a left into his office and shut the door.

  A few moments later, Avery came to the door. “Just got a call from the district attorney in Savannah. They’re opening an investigation on the Rogers, and if there’s enough evidence, charges will be filed against them.”

  “Good, because I already told them that would likely happen. Now I don’t have to go back in and recant my statement. The DA knows we have them in jail, right?”

  “Yes, and he’s aware they’ll bond out from whatever charges we have on them.”

  “Okay, then,” he said. “Thanks for letting me know.”

  Avery went back to dispatch as Lon picked up the phone. He made a call to the courthouse telling them he had two prisoners requesting court-appointed attorneys, and then hung up. His responsibilities in this mess were nearly over.

  * * *

  Although Lon’s office was in the hurricane’s eye of life in Blessings, Granny’s Country Kitchen was not. For as long as Lovey Cooper had owned the restaurant, Ruthie Whitman had been her baker. She made all the desserts, all the corn breads, all the biscuits, just like she was doing today.

  Only Ruthie had been late to work because her car wouldn’t start, and then when she finally arrived, she was an hour behind on morning baking. They were right in the middle of the breakfast rush when Ruthie slipped and fell. The timer on her last batch of biscuits had just gone off, and she was taking the hot pan from the convection oven when she went down.