Dangerous Game, page 17
Lamar continued to spar. Grey kept his hands in the air and evaded Lamar as he continued to crowd in on Grey.
Then the marvelous sound of sirens ripped through the air. From both directions, three sheriff’s vehicles barreled in off the highway.
“Thank you, God!” Grey said silently and let his arms fall to his sides.
Lamar turned and pelted back to his black pickup.
“Yeah!” Eddie shouted, even though it sounded as if it pained him to speak. “Now you’re in for it! Loser!”
Hank and Noah whirled around, glaring. But made no move to run. Two of the sheriff’s vehicles blocked Noah’s and Lamar’s trucks. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.
Grey hurried to Eddie and knelt beside him. “Are you okay, buddy?”
Eddie tried to grin. “Never…been rammed with shotgun before,” Eddie wheezed. “I don’t…recommend it.”
Grey helped Eddie to rise and sit down sideways in the open Chrysler.
With their sidearms drawn, the sheriff and three deputies, including Trish, approached the men. The sheriff ordered, “Franklin, Valliere, lay that rifle and shotgun down on the ground and put your hands on your heads!”
Trembling, Trish didn’t let dismay stop her. I’m holding a gun on my father.
Neither Hank nor Noah moved to obey. They stood their ground, their weapons held waist-high.
“Lay down your weapons! Now! Don’t make us shoot!” Keir ordered.
The deputies raised their weapons, prepared.
As she aimed her Glock, Trish’s heart had never beaten so fast. It felt as if it might come up her throat. The 911 call hadn’t mentioned her father. If it had, Keir probably wouldn’t have ordered her along. Should she say something to her father? No. She’d only pour lighter fluid on her father’s flaming out-of-control rage.
“We don’t want any trouble with the law,” Hank finally said and squatting, laid his rifle on the pavement in front of him. Then he turned to Noah. “Lay it down. We don’t have a choice.”
Her father glared into Trish’s eyes. Then he spat on the ground toward her.
She made no sign that she saw what he’d done. Her stomach swayed within her in a sickening rhythm. This is a nightmare, Lord. Don’t let it get worse. I don’t want to witness my father brought down by another deputy.
“Mr. Franklin!” Keir shouted. “This is your last chance. Lay down your shotgun! Or my deputies will shoot.”
At the last possible second, her father shouted a curse and lowered his shotgun to the ground.
Trish swallowed down her heart. She tried to catch her breath.
Keir glanced her way. “Go to Eddie and help him. See if he needs the EMTs.” Then he and the two other deputies moved to arrest and handcuff Lamar, Hank and Noah.
Finally, Trish made her way to Eddie. At the open door of the Chrysler, Trish faced Grey over Eddie’s head; everything inside her clamored for her to go to him and pull him close. Instead she asked, “How badly are you hurt, Eddie?”
“Your dad rammed me with his shotgun. It’s probably going to be one nasty bruise.” Eddie tried to chuckle but stopped as if that hurt too much.
“Let’s get him up and into the sheriff’s Jeep,” she said. With Grey’s help, she got Eddie up and headed toward the Jeep.
“Hey,” Eddie said, halting the three of them. “I can’t just go off and leave the convenience store unattended. I gotta go back in and finish my shift. If I screw up again, Ollie said he’d fire me.”
“Eddie,” Grey countered, “you’re hurt.”
“Not that bad. I’m not bleeding. I can’t…just leave, man. Can’t lose my job.”
Trish called to the sheriff, who was leading her father toward his vehicle. “We need to call Ollie and tell him what’s happened. Eddie says he can’t leave the convenience store unattended.”
“Okay,” the sheriff replied. “Get Ollie on your cell phone and ask him to come here now. I’m sure everything that just went down has been recorded from the security system Ollie put in to videotape people who drive off without paying.”
“Great,” Eddie said, still clutching his midsection. “These three need to be behind bars.”
Noah called Eddie a nasty name. Keir made no response to this and after patting her handcuffed father down, he guided him into the back of his Jeep, behind the grill, and shut the door.
Trish stared at the sight. Her father being taken in to be booked for attempted assault.
Keir turned to Grey. “I need to get these three in and start booking them. But I’ll need you to come in as soon as possible for a statement, and to press assault charges against them. And we need Eddie’s statement, too.”
“I don’t know.” Grey looked abashed.
“Don’t worry about what my family thinks,” Trish said, not looking toward Grey. “My father needs a dose of reality before he goes too far and really hurts someone. You’d be doing him a favor.” Could dementia be part of her father’s problem? But legally she couldn’t ask to see her father’s medical records. If her father didn’t get back to reality soon, he might have to be declared incompetent for his own protection and that of others. And that would kill him. Did he even guess at how much trouble he was in? From his defiant glare, she thought no.
Keir nodded. “She’s right. Her father’s behavior is…deteriorating.” Keir lowered his voice. “He needs help before he gets into real trouble, before he really hurts someone.”
Not waiting to hear Grey’s reply, Trish walked Eddie slowly toward the convenience store. If the sheriff didn’t call what had just taken place “real trouble,” she sure did.
“What next?” were the words that popped into Trish’s mind. Only yesterday, her father, Lamar and Hank had all been booked into the county jail. This morning, Trish stood in the silent courtroom where just a few weeks ago, she’d watched Rae-Jean being sentenced. Now she waited for her father’s arraignment on assault. She wished she could be anywhere but here. But this was what a good daughter had to do.
She wondered if the lawyer had had any luck with Noah. He’d been resisting the lawyer and insisting that he would plead “guilty.” That would lead to dire legal consequences. Lord, help my father see reason. This is bad enough without making it worse for himself.
Chaney, Penny and Florence stood on one side of Trish. And on the other was Aunt Harriet, who couldn’t seem to stop crying. Was she weeping for herself or Noah? What a way to spend a day off duty, Trish thought, forced to watch her elders self-destruct.
The bailiff called out, “All rise.”
The sparsely populated courtroom shuffled to its feet. Trish watched the black-robed judge take his seat and the proceedings began. She’d been in this courtroom many times. Watching Rae-Jean’s sentencing had been rough enough. But today she couldn’t take her eyes off her orange-clad father.
An image from her childhood taunted her. A younger, grinning Noah was baiting her hook as they fished off the pier. Her brothers around them jeered, like the boys they were, that she must learn to bait her own hooks. Her father had only chuckled and ruffled her bangs. Where had that man gone?
First Lamar, then Hank and finally Noah replied to the judge when he asked them for their plea. To her relief, all three pled, “Not guilty.” Bail was set and the three were led out. The court continued with another case.
Immense relief filled Trish as her family filed out of the courtroom. Then, out in the hallway, Aunt Harriet broke down completely, sobbing and looking faint. Trish, Penny and Florence all tried to comfort her. But she appeared to be beyond their feeble attempts.
Penny, who was a part-time nurse, nudged Harriet onto a stalwart oak bench in the hallway and took her sobbing aunt’s pulse. “We should take her to the E.R. Her pulse is twice what it should be,” Penny murmured.
“I’ve done something stupid. I need…to talk to the…sheriff,” Harriet gasped, pressing her hand against her heart. “My chest hurts.”
That phrase galvanized them. Though straining, Chaney managed to lift Harriet and carry her out to his pickup. Then in their separate vehicles, they all raced for the hospital. Trish couldn’t remember a time when they’d had to take so many members of her family into the E.R. before. And in such a short span of time. It hadn’t been this bad when her brothers were playing high school football in the same season.
At the E.R., Chaney left them. He had to go home to sleep so he could work that evening and Penny had to go home and get dressed to come back to the hospital to work at one. So Florence sat beside Trish on the stiff chairs while Harriet was admitted to a room for observation. Harriet’s words kept going around and around in Trish’s mind. What had her aunt been thinking, doing?
Florence recalled an appointment and had to leave. Finally, Trish alone entered her aunt’s semiprivate room. “Auntie, is there anything you need from home?”
“I need…to talk to the sheriff.” Harriet’s voice was thin and frightened.
“I don’t think you should do that without your lawyer present,” Trish cautioned.
“I’ve done a stupid thing, more than one stupid thing. And I need to make a clean breast of everything—”
“Stop. Don’t tell me anything about the case pending against you.” Trish almost put her hands over her ears. “I’m an officer of the court and I must report anything you tell me. And I can and will have to testify against you in court about anything you might tell me.”
“I—don’t—care.” Harriet spaced out her words for emphasis. “This has gone too far and I started it all.” She drew in a shaky breath. “But I don’t know who’s doing it now. I have to tell the sheriff—” The monitor Harriet was hooked to began beeping a loud warning. A nurse rushed in, waving Trish out of the room. Then a doctor charged past Trish.
Harriet called weakly after Trish. “I did the first two hit-and-runs. But just those two!”
And then Harriet was shushed by the nurse. The doctor barked at Trish. “I think you’d better leave. You’re agitating her.”
His words ringing in her ears, Trish escaped down the hall to the elevator. On the first floor, she hurried outside and punched in the sheriff’s number on her cell phone. Her aunt’s words ricocheted in her mind. Aunt Harriet was guilty. But only of the first two? Who had taken over for her then?
The Winfield gossip grapevine hadn’t failed him. He’d heard the news about Harriet’s confession the next morning. Harriet had confessed to the first two hit-and-runs but was denying that she’d done the third and fourth. Public opinion was split on whether she was telling the truth or not. Well, he knew she was telling the truth. But I’m not talking.
The incident at Ollie’s had been the last straw. He’d take care of Grey before the weekend. He couldn’t go through much more. It had to end. And he’d end it in such a way that Grey would be charged and convicted of the fifth and final hit-and-run.
I have everything to lose—if the whole truth ever comes out. And his nerves couldn’t take much more. This was a case of self-defense. It was him or Grey. And he’d make sure it was Grey.
That afternoon Trish drove up the bumpy lane to Elsie’s house. She’d been on her way home, but then she’d seen the new white sign on Elsie’s property. And suddenly she knew how Eddie had felt the day before yesterday when her father rammed him with the shotgun. No, it couldn’t be true. She wouldn’t let it be true.
She got out and heard the unmistakable scraping of a rake nearby. Hurrying around to the backyard, she saw Grey raking up the thick layer of bronzed, crinkled leaves. Grey’s muscles moved under his sleeveless T-shirt as he stretched out the rake and brought it back. Sunlight picked up the silver at his temples. And cast his angular features into shadow and light. She closed her eyes.
It was as if someone had flipped on a switch inside her. Suddenly she was alive, more alive than she’d ever dreamed of being. Previously when Grey had kissed her, she’d only sampled a foretaste of this exquisite sensitivity. This was more, much more than she’d ever experienced before. Grey, I’m in love with you.
She walked up to him and touched his shoulder. He swung around, looking startled. “I didn’t hear you coming.”
There was so much she wanted to say to him, but the emotions rolling, crashing through her made her mute. Once again, she rested her head against his chest, hearing his heart beat under her ear. She could smell the trace of his honest sweat, mingled with the scent of the fabric softener Elsie used. “Grey,” she murmured and pressed her face against his soft T-shirt. Pure joy flowed through her. This wasn’t mere attraction. If this wasn’t love, what else could it be?
No. Don’t, Trish. Letting the rake fall, Grey took hold of Trish’s slender shoulders. He knew he should set her away from him. But he first had to draw up all his defenses. And with her so close, touching him, he found that this was almost impossible. Her auburn hair tickled his nose. He couldn’t stop himself. He brushed his cheek against the vibrant silken strands. He tightened his grip, tucking her even closer to him. I shouldn’t be doing this. Why can’t I push her away?
Finally, sanity returned. He set her away from him and held her there, his hands on her upper arms. “Trish, no.”
She looked up at him, feeling dazed. Didn’t he feel it, too? “Yes.” She tried to break his hold and return to his chest.
He held her arms firmly but gently within his large hands. “Trish, you must have seen the For Sale sign. We’re leaving Winfield. For good. For everyone’s good.”
“No,” she said, rejecting this. “You can’t.”
“I must,” he said, leaning down and speaking close to her face. “Elsie and I talked it over last night. My presence here has stirred up things that should have been left to rest. After that scene at Ollie’s, I can’t take any more.”
“No. I love you, Grey. You can’t leave me, leave us.”
“No.” Turning his face away, he tried not to let her see how much it cut him to speak these words to her. But he had to make her understand. “You shouldn’t say that, Trish. I’m leaving. Elsie has put her house up for sale. The sign on the road just went up. I have a few jobs here to finish and then we’re leaving Winfield for good.”
Her spine stiffened. This isn’t the Middle Ages, Grey. I’m a free agent. “Then I’ll leave Winfield, too. I only came back here from Madison to take care of my dad. And we both know that he won’t even let me on his property now—not after yesterday.”
“I’m sorry about that. If I hadn’t returned here, you and your dad would still—”
“That’s not true.” She tried to move closer but he held her away. “Dad didn’t want me here. He’s been as rude as he can be to me. And that started way before you came home so don’t take that blame on yourself. I can’t let my father’s irrational behavior ruin my life, ruin our love.” Her voice cracked on the final word. You can’t stop me from loving you.
Grey wouldn’t meet Trish’s eyes. Where did she get the courage to make these declarations? Her daring humbled him, frightened him for her. He longed to kiss her for her bravery. But instead, he tightened his hold. He resisted both equally, her effort to push nearer to him again and his own need to hold her close. “Trish, it’s not just your dad. I’m an ex-con on early release. You’re a law officer. The two don’t go together.”
She tossed her head as if shaking off his comment. “I don’t have to be a law officer. I can do something else where your…” Her voice trailed off.
“Where my being a felon won’t affect you?” He completed her statement. “But my being a felon will affect me all my life and if we were together…it would affect you, too. I can’t change that, Trish. And I won’t inflict it on you.”
“I don’t care.” She looked up at him, her chin lifted in defiance. “I love you and I don’t care. I know that you are a different man now than—”
He squeezed her arms. “Stop it. I’m still an alcoholic—”
“You’re not drinking anymore. What has that—”
“It has everything to do with…with anyone I become…involved with. I could crack at any time and start drinking again. And then I’d be put back behind bars.” He lowered his face so that he was eye to eye with her.
“You won’t crack.” Their relationship was already difficult. Why was he trying to make it impossible? “If you love me and I love you, you won’t fall off the wagon.”
He released her arms. “You can’t say that. Do you know how hard it is for me to drive past Bugsy’s and not go in? Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to walk into Ollie’s and only buy milk? Alcohol still calls to me, still tempts me. I can’t and won’t deny that.” He took a step back from her.
Trish couldn’t believe he was being this stubborn. Didn’t he know how rare love was in this hard world? “There is nothing between us that can’t be worked out. Do you think I fall in love every day? I’ve never been in love before. You are a fine man. And anyone who knows you knows that. Why won’t you admit it?”
“Because seven years ago I made the flawed decision to drive drunk and I killed two people. Two people died because of my alcohol abuse. Nothing can ever change that. Nothing.” He folded his arms. Give it up, Trish.
I’m not giving up, Grey. “I don’t know about Darleen, but my uncle Jake would have forgiven you. He looked like my dad but he wasn’t like my dad. His heart never got cold and brittle. He never loved being miserable and trying to make others as miserable as he was. You can’t change what happened seven years ago, but no one alive can live a sinless life. And your sin is no greater than any other person’s sin. All sin is equal in God’s eyes. I’m a sinner, too.”
He took another step back from her. “It’s not the same.”
“Are you calling God a liar?” she demanded, feeling her face flush. “He says this is so. ‘For by grace are you saved through faith that is not of yourselves. It is a gift of God not works lest any man should boast.’”
Grey wanted to shake her. This wasn’t about God, but about people and their prejudices. “God sees it that way. But people don’t. And we live in a world of people. What if we got married and somehow it came out that I was a convicted felon, what would it do to you, to…our kids?”
