Connecting Strangers (Discovering Emily)

by Rachel Carrington

  “Yeah, big chicks like you are always game for a fight.” Mark sneers.

  “And I’ll show you what this big chick can do.” Her scornful glance rakes him up and down. “Maybe you won’t be so tough when you’re chewing your balls for breakfast.”

  “Easy,” Adam warns, coming up from behind Mark. He steps in front of him but only to secure the cell doors and lock me back in. He mouths “I’m sorry” before stepping back.

  “Please say what you have to say, Mr. Metzger, although Ms. Jacobs is under no obligation to speak to you, of course.” Mr. McAllister sniffs in a disdainful manner.

  Mark’s gaze slides to mine, and his fury envelops me. “She wants to talk to me, though, don’t you, Emily?” The question slithers out, and it takes every ounce of courage I possess not to punch him in his nose. “And she doesn’t want company.”

  “How about you let her speak for herself?” Francine lunges toward Mark, but Adam intercedes. She glares at him.

  “What do you want, Mark?”

  He rocks forward on the balls of his feet. “To talk to you alone.”

  “I strongly advise against that, Emily.” Mr. McAllister taps his briefcase. “This could be a trap.”

  But I can’t get the information I need with witnesses. Mark wants privacy. Fine. I have no problem giving it to him. As long as he gives me something in return. “It’s okay, Mr. McAllister. I’m sure he doesn’t have anything to say that I want to hear, but it’s his breath to waste.”

  “Very well.” The lawyer doesn’t look happy. He bumps Francine with his briefcase. “You’d better come, too, Francine. I wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

  “I would,” she mutters but trails after him anyway.

  Both Francine and my attorney remain by the door, and Adam moves back to his desk. Privacy is at an all-time low so Mark lowers his voice when he comes to stand close to the bars.

  “I’m willing to drop the charges.”

  “If?” I’m sure the catch is going to be untenable.

  “You come back to Broomtown and marry me.”

  “This is your idea of a marriage proposal?” I almost laugh in his face. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You branded me like I was a cow in your herd, Mark.”

  He looks over his shoulder then turns to hiss at me. “You think that’s gonna save you? You put a bullet in my shoulder, almost killed me. That will give you at least ten years behind bars, if not more. Daddy says the judges are really toughening up on women who snap.”

  The county judges do pretty much what Ike wants so I don’t doubt the punishment will be severe. But I haven’t been convicted, and I’m starting to doubt this is my fate, after all. “I’d rather die on death row than marry you, Mark.”

  My words are a strike to his ego, and he recoils as though they are a slap. His face changes colors, going from red to purple while his mouth works like he’s unable to form words. Then his gaze darkens, and he moves in even closer, his voice dipping to a sinister whisper.

  “You’re gonna regret that, Emily. And so are all your new little friends. They’re gonna wish they’d never helped you. Just for that, I’m even gonna make your lawyer regret meeting you. By the time I’m done, you’re gonna be begging me to marry you. But it’ll be too late. I’ll just watch as the judge sentences you to death row. Just wait.”

  “You can threaten my friends all you want, Mark. I’ve told them everything about you.” I lean close to the bars. “And I do mean everything. You’d be surprised at how much they really aren’t scared of you. And you know what? Neither am I. Not anymore. I know what you did, and you might want to be thinking about that cot on death row yourself.”

  He stares at me for a long minute, and I see the wheels turning in his head. “You got nothing on me.”

  “You keep believing that, but if I were you, I’d be looking over my shoulder. Never know when the next blue lights will be coming for you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “What did he say to you?” Adam hands me a plastic cup filled with sweet tea from the diner. He’s back inside the cell with me after pulling an office chair to sit across from me.

  “He wants me to marry him.”

  “What?” Disgust and fury marry in his voice.

  “That’s why he wanted to talk to me. If I marry him…”

  “This will all go away,” Adam finishes. When I don’t immediately answer, he leans in closer, his eyes narrowed. “You’re not seriously considering that, are you?”

  “No.” My response is a bit sharp but only because I know my options really are limited. Marrying Mark isn’t even on my radar, but then, neither is going to prison. And there’s no doubt in my mind that Ike Metzger will do everything in his power to make that happen if I don’t agree. But if I can find evidence that he killed my parents, the tables will turn.

  “That guy’s got some hell of a nerve.” Adam bites into a fry and chews.

  I take a sip of the tea that’s a little too sweet for my taste. “Even though this ship has already sailed, we probably shouldn’t be talking about this. You’ll be getting a subpoena to testify at my trial.”

  “If it goes that far.” He reaches across to brush my hair back from my face, and the gentle touch squeezes my heart. I reach up to curl my fingers around his. His thumb caresses my lower lip before he slowly lowers his hand.

  My throat is so tight it’s difficult to push words out. “I don’t see Mark backing down anytime soon.” I pause before adding, ““I’m sorry you’re stuck in the middle of this. Next time you’ll think twice before asking a strange woman out for dinner.”

  He smiles though it doesn’t reach his eyes. At present, there’s no reason to smile. “You let me worry about that.”

  “You shouldn’t have to worry about it at all, and you wouldn’t had we…” I stop talking only because regrets serve no purpose. Living with Mark taught me that.

  “I’d be involved regardless of sex, Emily. I knew that the moment I saw you in the diner.” Though he puts the straw to his lips, he doesn’t pull the tea into his mouth before setting the cup down. “I had to get to know you.”

  “Had?”

  Broad shoulders lift and fall in a shrug. “Can’t explain it, and I don’t see any need to try to.”

  He’s looking at me, his eyes magnetizing, drawing me in. I want him to hold me, to reassure me, but I won’t ask. Because I need to stand on my own, to face this like a woman instead of a scared cheerleader. I’m not the same woman Mark met in high school, and I’m going to show that to him. No matter the outcome, he won’t come out the winner in this.

  “I didn’t tell Mr. McAllister about the scar.” I change the subject, but I realize a second too late it was the wrong topic.

  Adam’s face tenses. “Before this is all over, I’m going to kick that bastard’s balls into his throat.”

  I wince at the mental picture. “Sounds painful, but we’ve already discussed this. You wear a badge. You can’t do anything illegal.”

  “The badge comes off.” He leaves the chair to sit next to me on the cot, but he doesn’t touch me. I think he’s worried about what will happen if he does. Just a brief contact of skin on skin ignites us. And we need to keep our focus now more than we need sex.

  “You can’t take it off, Adam.” My fingertips trace the star pinned to the front of his shirt. “That’s the difference between you and guys like Mark. You know what it means to stand for something.”

  Adam smooths his palm across my cheek. In the background, the radio squawks to life. His help is needed on a call. Reluctance is in his every move as his hand slides away. “I know you’re going to go a little crazy in here. I could bring in the tv.”

  “The noise will only bother me. Besides that, maybe if I’m alone with my thoughts I’ll think of something that can help the state police with their search.”

  He stands as the deputy’s voice grows strident, his face a dark mask of displeasure. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” One hand grips
the iron rails. “I have to lock this.”

  “I know.” I smile to show him it’s okay.

  “I’ll call Francine and tell her where I keep the spare key to the front door. No one will bother you here.” He doesn’t need to add a name.

  “Mark won’t come back.” I know that as well as I know my name. My words wounded him, and for that, he’ll spend the next few hours plotting his revenge which, I’m sure, will involve several telephone calls to his daddy. Ike will, in turn, burn up the phone lines calling the county judges he has in his pocket.

  Adam locks my cell and places the key on a table close enough for me to reach. His gaze drops to it then comes back to me. It’s an unspoken offer, one I know I won’t take.

  When he leaves me alone, I curl up onto the thin mattress and try to sleep. Francine doesn’t let that stop her from banging around when she returns an hour later. She’s brought a change of clothes, pajamas, and my toothbrush which she slips to me through the bars.

  “You’re going to be okay, Emily. Harry will help.” Her voice rings with confidence I’m not sure she feels. I can’t see anything in her gaze beyond concern.

  “Thank you.” I clutch the paper bag and return to the narrow cot. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

  “Don’t go talking like it’s over. Before you know it, you’ll be back behind that counter serving up coffee and fending off advances. I promise you. And then you can think about what you want to do with the rest of your life. Maybe go to college and settle down with a good man. I think you’re halfway toward one of those goals.”

  “Francine.” As long as I’m in town, she’s not going to stop pushing me and Adam together. But she doesn’t have to push any longer. “Even though I’m sitting in here right now, I’m glad I came to Juniper Springs, that I met you.” My gaze shifts to a spot above her shoulder. “And Adam.”

  When I look back at her face, I think I see a tear on her cheek, but Francine turns around too quickly for me to be sure. “I best be getting back. Art says he’s got an errand to run so I need to look after the diner. I’ll be back before closing, though, to bring you some supper.”

  “Francine, there’s no need.”

  She doesn’t appear to hear my protest as she walks to the door. She pauses with her hand on the knob. “We’ll get you through this.”

  A lump in my throat prevents me from saying anything else. By the time it clears, Francine has stepped out onto the porch.

  The explosion of gun fire drops me to my knees. A bullet tears a hole through the wooden door and embeds itself in the far wall.

  “Francine!” I scramble for the keys and unlock my cell. Heart beating frantically, I race out the door to find her lying flat on the porch. Fear squeezes my throat. “No, no, no!” I drop down beside her and start checking for any injuries, looking for blood. “Are you hurt? Francine, talk to me.”

  She groans. “I don’t think I’m hit, but I banged my head against the porch.” She’s shaky when she tries to stand up so I pull her back down to the wood.

  “Don’t try to get up yet. Let me check you out.”

  “You can check me out inside and not out here where more bullets might come flying.”

  Crouching low, I run one hand over the back of her head, my fingers encountering the knot forming from contact with oak. “You need to go to the emergency room.”

  “Like hell I do.” She brushes off my hands and looks around, wincing with every movement of her head. “Where did that shot come from?”

  I lift my gaze to search the tiny parking lot. “I don’t know, but let’s get back inside and call Adam.”

  “Keep low,” she instructs. “Whoever the shooter is, he can’t be very good at it, but I don’t want to give him any more chances.”

  Once we’re inside the jail with the door firmly closed, Francine looks at me then back at the cell. “How did you get out of there?”

  “Adam left the keys nearby.”

  She grins, although it’s a little wobbly. “That man’s got a thing for you.”

  “Yeah, I know.” I quickly turn around so she can’t see my face and lock the door, safely barricading us inside while I use the radio to call for help. No one responds to my plea, and all Francine and I hear is a bunch of static.

  “Shit,” she mutters. “Did that idiot out there knock out something we need to communicate?” With shaking hands, she digs her cell phone out of her purse. “Here. Use this.”

  She has Adam’s number programmed into her phone so I press the contact button. Adam answers after two rings. “Francine, not now. I’m in the middle—”

  “Adam, it’s me. Someone shot at the station. Not just once. Francine was leaving, but she’s okay.” The words gush out. Before I can say more, Adam tells me to lock the door and stay inside. He’ll be there as soon as he can.

  It only seems like seconds pass when we hear the squeal of tires. “Emily!” Adam leaves the car engine running and bounds up the steps to the office. I hear keys jingling, and before I can get to the door, the knob is already turning.

  “Thank God.” He reaches for me, pulls me into his arms, and holds me tight.

  “I’m fine, too, thanks,” Francine drawls, taking a sip of the lukewarm coffee I poured her. “Even though I was the one getting shot at, you go ahead and comfort her.” A soft chuckle takes any intended sting out of her words.

  Adam releases me long enough to wrap an arm around Francine’s shoulders. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  Mollified, she sniffs and plunks herself down behind his desk on the chair she rescued from my cell. “Well, I can’t say I’m okay. I’m still shaking like a three-year-old scared by a clown.”

  I move closer to Adam’s chest, and his arm goes around my waist. Silently, I beat myself up for not saying something to him sooner. He could have warned Francine and Art. The second his name comes to mind, I whip my gaze to Francine. “Is Art okay?”

  She blinks several times in rapid succession. “Why wouldn’t he be? That shot was for you.” When I don’t respond, she prods me. “Wasn’t it?”

  I can’t look at her when I reply. “Mark threatened all of you indirectly. He’d never come out and say you were all going to die. But that’s what he meant.” And what he’d done to my parents. My hands are ice cold when they find Adam’s and hold on tight.

  “That son-of-a-bitch.” Francine continues to rub the back of her head. “I shouldn’t be surprised he’s a lousy damn shot. Guys like him prefer to use their fists.”

  Adam’s hazel eyes turn a darker green. “I need to go have a little talk with Mark.”

  “You won’t find him in town. He’s halfway back to Broomtown because he doesn’t get his hands dirty. His father taught him that.”

  “That figures.” Adam heads to the wall to survey the bullet’s damage. “I’ll get our crime techs to pull this out. It’ll tell us the caliber and help us pinpoint the gun. From what you told me over the radio, though, if it’s a typical hunting rifle, there are hundreds registered in Burlington County alone. Your ex did his homework.”

  “Or Ike did it for him.”

  “Well, whoever it was made a big mistake.” Adam is at the radio so fast I barely see him move.

  “The radio’s out. A bullet didn’t hit it, but…” I don’t finish my sentence because Adam is already on his cell phone, barking orders that are quickly followed by responses loud enough for me to hear.

  When he hangs up, he checks the cord connecting the radio. “Probably interference. The bastard knows his stuff.” He lifts his gaze. “Francine, is there somewhere else you and Art can stay tonight?”

  She sniffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m not going to let that horse’s ass run me out of my home. If he or any of his little buddies come back, Art and I will be waiting. And I don’t need to tell you that Art is more than capable of making sure no one reaches my front door.”

  Adam drags a hand through his hair and gives her a stern look. “You can�
��t shoot someone for walking up to your door.”

  “Of course not.” She gives him an innocent look. “We’ll shoot him then drag his body inside.”

  “Francine!”

  “He ain’t getting into my house, Adam. If it so happens that Art and I have to take care of things, we’ll deal with the fallout later. Until then, you just concentrate on Emily. No matter what she says, I don’t trust that sneaky bastard she used to call a boyfriend.” She makes a moves as though preparing to walk to the door, but Adam snags her wrist.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Back to the diner.” Her chin thrusts out at an angle I’ve began to recognize as stubbornness rearing its head.

  “Not with a shooter on the loose. I’m bringing the other deputies in. One of them will stop by the diner and pick up Art. Then both of you are going to a hotel.”

  “Weren’t you listening to a word I said?” She squares her shoulders and goes nose-to-nose with him. “No lily-livered piece of trash is going to keep me from my home.”

  “It isn’t Mark,” I remind them. “Whoever his daddy hired has his orders. Francine, listen to Adam. Mark has made you a target.”

  “Well, the Billy Bad Ass he hired is a horrible shot so I don’t see as how I’ve got too much to be worried about. I might be a little shaken, but I ain’t scared. I promised myself years ago no man would ever scare me again. Your dumb ass ex certainly isn’t going to make me break that vow.”

  “Why do you have to be so damned difficult?” Adam grinds out each word.

  “It’s what I do best.” She gives him a toothy smile, but I catch a glimpse of uncertainty in her gaze. In all honesty, she doesn’t know that she can stand up to her own promises. That first shot might have been a warning and not necessarily meant to do any damage. So we need to be prepared when the next bullet comes.

  Another car engine joins the sound of the car Adam left running. He holds up one finger to keep Francine from moving. His gun slides out of the holster, and he points to the floor, telling both of us to get down.

  Boots scuffle on the porch then the doorknob turns. “Sheriff?”