Come Rain or Shine: Rose Gardner Investigations #5 (Rose Gardner Investigatons)

by Denise Grover Swank

  “That’s for her husband to decide,” Brox said. “Not you. Not me.”

  “She ain’t got a husband, you damn fool,” Carey snapped. “So we’ll teach her the lesson she badly needs, and her future husband will thank us for it.”

  “Hey,” I shouted. “How about we don’t talk about me like I’m not here. I’m a person, not someone’s damn property.”

  Carey pointed his finger at me, anger twisting his features. “You’re too arrogant for a woman.”

  “And you’re a sorry excuse for a man. We’re certainly not meant for each other, so I guess you’d better keep your grimy hands off me.” I knew I’d gone too far, but I was sick to death of being a pawn in these stupid games. I turned back to Gerard. “I was told you’re a smart, self-sufficient man who has a strong sense of right and wrong. And yet, I haven’t wronged you in any way, Gerard Collard, and both times I’ve seen you, you’ve snatched me at gunpoint. Even so, I’ve sat at your table and participated in civil conversations instead of spitting in your face for insulting me.” I got to my feet. “Maybe that was my first mistake.”

  “I have not insulted you,” he snapped.

  “Allowing your son to threaten me with physical harm is an insult. Sending your other son to fetch me not once but twice is an insult.” I took a breath and told myself to hold my temper. I couldn’t count on James anymore. I needed to be able to protect our baby on my own, and if that meant getting on the good side of every criminal in this county, so be it.

  I held my hands up in semi-surrender. “It’s late. Tempers are short. I understand your concern, Gerard, but I think we can come to some kind of agreement.”

  He narrowed his eyes with suspicion.

  “You want something, and I want something. Let’s work out a deal to ensure everyone walks away happy.”

  “What do you want?” Carey demanded in a hateful tone.

  I leveled my gaze on Gerard. “Are you runnin’ this meetin’ or is he? Because I need to know who to address.”

  Anger flashed in Gerard’s eyes, but he turned to his son and said, “Keep your mouth shut or leave.”

  Carey’s hands fisted at his sides, and he looked like he wanted to lunge for me. I was sure I’d cemented his hatred and made a new enemy. He was just one more asshole I’d have to watch for behind my back.

  One bad guy at a time, precious baby. We’ll take care of them one at a time.

  “What do you want?” Gerard barked.

  “I want you to acknowledge my neutrality in the criminal world.”

  He looked suspicious. “That’s all you want?”

  He was right. I needed to think bigger. My mind shot to Denny Carmichael, and the favor I owed him. Two could play that game. “No. The second part is that I want a favor from you in case I ever need one.”

  “What kind of favor?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “But there may come a time I need help, and I want to know I can call on you.”

  Gerard burst out laughing. When he settled down, he said, “I make it a practice to ensure that I don’t owe anyone anything.”

  “And that’s a good philosophy to have. Keeps moochers from takin’ advantage of you.” It took all my willpower to keep from casting an accusatory glance at Carey. “But you want something that is very valuable. I can give you that if you give me insurance.”

  Gerard’s face reddened. “You were plannin’ on testifying against me.”

  “I never said any such thing,” I said. “Do you even know why I’ve been asked to testify?” When he didn’t respond, I said, “I was attacked and nearly killed by two Sugar Branch police officers, and they’re bringing me in to question me about that incident. But I’ve been told the jury can and likely will ask me other questions. I have no plan to bring up your name, Gerard, but should it come up, I’ve been known to have tunnel vision and a poor memory when need be.”

  Part of me was horrified by what I’d just implied. He was a criminal, and I’d essentially offered him protection, but I knew too much about too many things to walk into that grand jury, spill all, and expect to live a long, peaceful life. Especially if I wanted to raise my baby on the farm. I had to make sure we were safe.

  I continued. “Here’s what I suspect I’ll remember: You sent your son to issue an invitation to your land to discuss my investigation into who killed Carol Ann Nelson. You’d heard I’d stumbled on some files Kip Wagner had put together on important people in the county and you wanted to know if I’d found a file on you or your sons.”

  “You’d lie?” he asked, incredulous.

  “Lie? You coerced me to your property because of a file—mine—so it’s not a huge stretch.” I paused, then added, “I want no trouble with you or your sons, Gerard. I just want to live my life in peace. Granted, I’ve gotten involved in multiple criminal endeavors, but I never butted into them. My involvement has usually come about from my work with my PI clients. I’ve never personally benefited from any of these encounters. I consider myself a mediator. I’ve saved quite a few lives and cooled many a temper. But doing so means earning men’s trust, which means I’m the Fort Knox of secrets. I’d like to earn your trust.”

  When he still looked unconvinced, I began to wonder if I’d calculated wrong, but then his posture changed and respect filled his eyes. “I’ve heard that whatever confrontations you’ve been involved in, you’ve handled fairly.”

  I tried to hide my relief and play it cool. “I’d like to think so. I’ve ruled against Skeeter Malcolm before, and I’m sure I will again.”

  Gerard pushed out a long breath, suddenly sounding weary. “We won’t kill people unless provoked. So if you’re lookin’ for a hit man, you’re barkin’ up the wrong tree.”

  It took me a second to realize he was negotiating the terms of our agreement. “I would never ask you to do such a thing,” I said. “Violence should be a last resort and never committed in cold blood. I’m tryin’ to make the county safer, not de-civilize it.”

  He nodded sharply.

  “I have no idea what I’d ask for, but there are times I need support. Tim Dermot has offered me that support before, and so has Malcolm—although, as you pointed out, his support is now uncertain. If I ask you for help, and you provide no ethical reason to refuse, I’ll expect you to follow through.”

  He cast a glance back to Brox. “What do you think?”

  Carey’s eyes narrowed with rage.

  “I think we should accept,” Brox said. “She’s right. She doesn’t take sides. She favors whatever is best for the county. I heard Malcolm was none too happy when she picked Reynolds over him in a dispute, but he stood by her decision.”

  Gerard pursed his lips.

  Brox took his silence as encouragement. Sounding more emphatic, he added, “We both know there are selfish men out there who think nothing of ripping people off or even murdering them. She stands up to them. She tries to set things to right. We should support that. Especially now.”

  Gerard studied me again. “How do you justify lyin’ to the court if you’re all about followin’ the rules?”

  “I never said I was a rule-follower,” I said. “I believe in standin’ up for what’s right. Sometimes the two don’t go hand in hand.”

  He gave another nod and was silent for a moment. “There will be no mention of illegal activities in regard to me or mine?”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “What criminal activity? I was an invited guest to your home. There were guns, but I’m sure all y’all have permits to carry guns. I don’t know how you came about acquirin’ them, nor do I care. We had our discussion and I left with Skeeter Malcolm, who kindly offered me a ride.” I gave him a sweet smile. “But again, I have no plans to mention you at all. I’ll only offer information on what I’m asked.”

  “And what about tonight?” he asked. “They’ll think you shot those men and ran off. How do you propose to explain yourself?”

  “Frankly,” I said, “I haven’t had time to consider it, but they’ll
know soon enough that those men were shot with bullets that didn’t come from my gun.”

  Brox spoke up. “Someone else shot them, and she ran. A stranger forced her into his truck at gunpoint. He drove her out of town, but she got away.”

  I went over his story in my mind. It was simple and plausible.

  “That could have been what happened,” I said in a conspiratorial tone.

  “You’re willin’ to commit perjury for us?” Carey barked, taking a step forward. “What’s in it for you? And I’m not buyin’ your story about needin’ a favor.”

  “I’ll tell you why,” I said, spinning to face him and putting my hands on my hips. “I don’t want to worry about sleepin’ with one eye open. As for keepin’ my mouth shut? I’ve made promises. I’ve garnered trust. I’m not reneging on that now. I stand for nothin’ if people can’t trust my word.”

  Gerard stood and moved toward me, slowly as though working out some kinks in his back. When he reached me, he extended his hand. “Lady, it’s hard to find people of integrity these days. I’ll grant you your request, but you only have a year to ask for your favor.”

  I sure hoped this was all resolved by the end of a year. I’d have a baby by then.

  Oh, Lordy. I was having a baby.

  But I’d deal with the second round of shock later. I still needed to wrap up this deal. I took his hand and shook it.

  He held on and leaned closer. “Are you lookin’ for a husband?”

  I opened my mouth to say something, then closed it before saying, “I’m not currently in the market.”

  “I have four sons.” He gestured toward the other two men in the room. “Brox is the eldest and is destined to take charge when I’m gone. He’d make a fine husband.”

  My face flushed. “Thank you for your generous offer, Gerard,” I said, feeling flustered, “but I’ve got my hands full with my businesses and my dyin’ sister. I don’t have time for a relationship.”

  “See?” Gerard said, pointing to me while turning to look at Carey. “Integrity. A hard worker.” He glanced down at me. “And good childbearing hips. You can’t do much better.”

  Carey looked like he begged to differ, and Brox looked like he wanted to crawl under the house and die.

  Gerard dropped my hand and nodded. “We have a deal, Rose Gardner. As long as you keep your end of the bargain, we’ll keep ours.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I’m countin’ on it.” I gave him a nod of my own, then turned to leave before he could change his mind.

  I walked around to the passenger door of the truck and climbed in the front seat, not wanting to give Brox any ideas about tying me up. He didn’t comment when he followed me out—he just climbed into the driver’s side and started the car. Moments later, we were heading toward the road.

  We were silent until we reached a two-lane county road I didn’t recognize and turned right. Once we were a minute or so out, the tension in Brox’s shoulders seemed to ease.

  “I can’t drop you off very close to town, but I can drop you off a short bit from a convenience store. You can go inside and ask to use the phone.” He paused. “You got someone to call?”

  Who would I call? I used to call James in these situations, but even if I could get ahold of him, I doubted he’d help. Especially since the danger had passed. Jed was with Neely Kate. I needed to call the person who was most worried about me right now, and I could only hope I wouldn’t put him in an even more awkward position. “Yeah.”

  He gave a sharp nod, keeping his gaze on the road. “Gerard… he’s old-fashioned, ya know? He was serious about that marriage offer, but it was meant as a compliment. So far, he’s only found one other woman he considered worthy of joinin’ our family, and she had buckteeth and a lazy eye.” He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with this conversation yet pursuing it anyway. “You’re much prettier.”

  I tried not to cringe with embarrassment. “Thank you…?”

  “I…” He hesitated, then shifted in his seat. “I know you’re expectin’ a baby and that Malcolm expects you to murder it.”

  My heart fell to my stomach. How did he know? But then I remembered he’d told his father he’d followed me from the pool hall. “Were you watchin’ me?”

  “No,” he said in a rough voice. “I was watchin’ Malcolm. We did want to talk to you, though, so I called Gerard and we set things into motion. I was excited when I saw you stop at the pharmacy. Seemed like it would be less trouble than forcing you off the road.” He paused and shook his head. Then his hand tightened on the steering wheel. “I tolerated Skeeter Malcolm before and semi-respected him because he seemed to have a sense of honor. But after what he said to you tonight…”

  Shame washed through me. “I…” I swallowed, unsure what to say. “Why didn’t you tell your father? Seems like he could have used that against me.”

  He paused. “That’s why I didn’t tell him. He just might have.”

  I turned to him in surprise.

  “Gerard had it right when he said you have integrity. As long as we’re safe, we need to let you be and support you.” He shot me a glance. “We don’t get involved with other people’s shit. For him to offer you help if you need it… that’s pretty rare.”

  I’d gathered as much.

  “His other option was to kill you, and you didn’t deserve that.”

  I let that sink in. “Are you tellin’ me he would have killed me tonight if he’d decided I was a threat?”

  “He couldn’t risk you hurtin’ the family. He wouldn’t want to do it, but…”

  No further explanation needed.

  “Can you memorize a phone number?” he asked.

  “Ordinarily, I’d say yes, but I’m exhausted and stressed and…”

  “You’ve been through a lot tonight. You need to take care of yourself and your baby.” He shot me another look. “You’re not gonna kill it, are you?”

  I leaned my head back against the seat, overcome with exhaustion. It seemed wrong that the son of the county’s most notorious prepper would find this out before James Malcolm, but so be it. “No. I’m not havin’ an abortion.”

  “Good.”

  I wasn’t surprised he was pro-life, but it surprised me he cared so much. That was a discussion I had no urge to jump into.

  I could see lights up ahead, and he slowed down and pulled over to the shoulder.

  “There’s a gas station about a quarter mile up the road. I know the guy workin’ the counter. He’ll let you make a call, but be sure to leave my name out of it.”

  “I never saw you tonight,” I said, reaching for the door handle, eager to get out in case he changed his mind. Once I was outside, he rolled down the window and leaned out, looking at me.

  “I’ll let you know how to contact us when you need to collect your favor.” Then he pulled into the street, made a wide U-turn, and drove away.

  CHAPTER 17

  I was sitting on the curb outside the convenience store when Joe pulled up twenty minutes later, lights flashing on his unmarked car. He screeched to a halt next to me, shut off the lights, and jumped out the instant the car stopped moving.

  “Why are you out here alone? I told you to wait indoors,” he said, glancing around for signs of a threat.

  “I was getting claustrophobic in there.” I wrapped my sweater tighter around me. The evening had turned chilly, but I preferred the cold air to the guy watching me from behind the counter.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, worry in his eyes. I hadn’t told him much when I’d called his cell phone. Just that I was in a gas station outside of Pickle Junction and I needed him to come get me.

  I got to my feet, brushing the dirt off my butt. “I’m fine. A little shaken, but fine.”

  “A little shaken?” he demanded. “From the looks of it, you disappeared after killing two men in the parking lot of Beacon’s Pharmacy.”

  “I didn’t kill them,” I said. “Someone else did, then I ran away.”

  He studi
ed me closely. “Is that your official story or the real version?”

  I hesitated. I felt like he and I were on a precipice, and if we jumped off, there was no going back. Was it fair to ask him to keep my secrets? Was it fair to exclude him after everything he’d done for me? “That part is true, but after that…which version do you want to hear?”

  His gaze held mine. “Right now, the official version.”

  The absence of accusation in his tone caught me off guard.

  I told him the real story, up until the point where someone had shot the two men. The lie picked up where the truth had left off, and I said I’d run off, only to be picked up by a man who held me at gunpoint and drove me south of town.

  “I told him that I was about to barf in his truck, so he grudgingly pulled over. When I opened the door, I jumped out and took off running into the trees. He seemed spooked when he couldn’t find me, so he left. I waited a little bit to make sure the coast was clear and walked to the convenience store.”

  He studied me for a few moments. “Your story raises a few questions. One, why did you leave Muffy behind? Two, if you were hanging out in the woods, why do your legs look relatively clean? Three, did you recognize the guy who kidnapped you, and could you pick him out of a lineup? Four, what kind of truck did he drive? Five, did he shoot at you? Six, did he tell you why he forced you into his truck at gunpoint?”

  Well, crap. I hadn’t thought of any of that.

  His gaze held mine. “How much do you want to sell this story?”

  I swallowed, feeling like I was about to throw up. “I’m stickin’ with it.”

  He nodded. “Then we need to provide proof.” He started for the driver’s door of his car. “Get in.”

  I wasn’t sure what he was up to, but I decided to trust him. He pulled out of the parking lot and headed south—away from town.

  “Where are you goin’?” I asked.

  “You need to show me where he pulled over,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road, then pointed up ahead. “That looks like a good place over yonder. The shoulder is asphalt, so there wouldn’t be any tire tracks and the woods are close enough for you to have made a run for them.” He pulled over and stopped the car.