Guns and Ammo and Murder

by Patti Larsen

  It wasn’t until it barreled into me and carried me to the ground, the fuzzy muzzle rubbing against my cheek, wet nose burrowing into my neck I realized, for the second time, I’d been saved by this particular creature. And, for the second time, I’d mistaken Moose’s giant shagginess for a bear.

  I hugged him, crying and burying my face in his mane, hearing Bill’s voice, unable to call out past a squeak through my painful throat. He appeared at my side, scooping me up into his arms and carrying me, while I faded in and out, through the trees. Also familiar and I really had to find a way to thank him for saving my life. Again. At least this time I was conscious when he brought me inside, the sound of my mother’s strident voice muffled before my ears cleared and her sharp fear came through loud and clear.

  “Here! Put her here.” I tried to tell her I was okay, that Moose and Bill saved me again, but she was shushing me, hands on me, feeling my forehead, my pulse, the warmth of a fire crackling and making me moan while she grasped my fingers in hers and gasped. I was so cold, she felt like molten lava. I almost jerked away, draped in a blanket a moment later, Jill coming to hover next to me, her face near mine as she crouched by the sofa in the study, expression tight and terrified.

  “Fee,” she said. “What happened?”

  “Caleb,” I croaked. “Find him.”

  She looked startled, then nodded, Bill cursing softly.

  “Tunnel,” I said, wishing I could get out a full sentence. “Under. To the river.”

  She seemed to get what I meant, though. And was gone in a flash, Bill with her, while the heavy, familiar form of my now anxious pug settled on my chest, Petunia’s long, warm tongue sweeping across my cheek.

  ***

  I knew that scent, adored it. It reminded me of warmth and soft lips and long, lingering hugs that did more to heat me up than any fire. I opened my eyes to the gorgeous blue ones that always made me happy and smiled.

  “Crew.” My voice was still harsh, barely there. But he was here, so it didn’t matter.

  “We caught Caleb,” he said, his own tone low and steady. “He was trying to escape across the bridge. We only got him because of you.” Why did he suddenly sound so angry? And his lips were trembling, his hand shaking as he brushed hair from my cheek. “Frustrating, stubborn, busybody.” All true. “What the hell am I going to do with you, Fiona Fleming?”

  Stupid tears leaking out of my eyes. Traitors. I shook my head, wanting to sob on his shoulder, but he was kissing me so there wasn’t time for that just yet.

  All good. I could wait.

  ***

  Chapter Thirty Three

  Dr. Aberstock leaned away from me, his stethoscope tucked around his neck while Barry watched with his lower lip between his teeth. “I need to get you your very own one of these,” the doctor chuckled, gesturing at the instrument dangling over his shoulders. “You need one more than any of my other patients.” He patted my hand to soften the teasing before turning and nodding to Barry. “She’s fine, at least for the moment. Your assessment was accurate.”

  The intern seemed relieved. Crew had hovered, tension obvious to everyone in the room as Barry did the cursory exam, practically pushing the young man out of the way when Dr. Aberstock finally arrived. Sweet of him to be worried, but aside from the sore throat I felt none the worse for wear.

  “You’re lucky, Fee.” Dr. Aberstock tucked his tools away, closing his bag with a deep sigh and concern on his face. “You were close to hypothermia, young lady. And you’ll be keeping your fingers and toes, but you might find some sensitivity the next week or so. If there’s any headaches or sudden dizziness, get to the hospital, all right? You could have other damage that won’t manifest for a few days.”

  I nodded, hugging the blanket around myself again. “Thank you,” I whispered. “Voice?” I tried to say, “And my voice?” but the last word was all that squeaked out.

  “Rest it as much as you can,” he said, winking at me as Crew snorted. Dr. Aberstock laughed. “If that’s possible, young lady.”

  “Good luck with that,” my smarty pants boyfriend said.

  The doc grinned at the sheriff. “Figured.”

  Hardy har. They were both comedians.

  Dr. Aberstock stood, sighing with a big smile at the gathering. “She’ll be fine. With the bridge fixed, you should be able to go home. And get some rest, Fee.”

  I nodded again. I guess head bobs and feeble finger waves were going to be my go-to for communication the next little while. Awesome.

  Crew helped me stand, his big hands steady on my back and upper arm. I leaned into him though I didn’t really need to, letting him drape one arm over my shoulders and support me. I’d been away from him long enough it was nice to have the contact, and since my condition made it technically necessary, I was going to take full advantage.

  He was guiding me out to the foyer, Jill with the rest of the guests and staff still cornered by the front desk, when the main doors swept open and Olivia strode through. With Geoffrey at her back, naturally.

  She looked concerned enough I let her have her gush of emotional concern as she rushed to me and hugged me. That surprised me, as did her actual genuine worry reflecting in her dark eyes as she looked me over.

  “Fee,” she breathed, before clearing her throat and hugging me again. “Are you all right?”

  Wow. Did Olivia actually let down her guard long enough to be a human being? I nodded, unable to speak, and hugged her back. When she let me go, she stepped away, face tight, cheeks bright pink as she seemed to fight emotion.

  How remarkable.

  I didn’t get to dwell on her apparent humanity, not when Eddie suddenly broke the silence that followed her emotional greeting. I looked up as he marched to Geoffrey and practically snarled in the startled councilman’s face.

  “This is your fault.” He was about one tick of volume from shouting. “I’m ruined because of you. I did everything you asked of me, Geoffrey, everything Marie wanted. You’d better fix this because I’m not going down alone.”

  Wait. Had Eddie burned the file? I’d had the impression he’d known more about Caleb than he was saying, but I hadn’t chased it down. How had I forgotten his fight with the killer? Easy to think of Caleb that way now. As for Eddie, what connection did he have to the file and Blackstone if they were pulling their support of his business? Was the effort to destroy the evidence actually intended for Geoffrey? But why? And what was he talking about?

  Olivia’s narrowed gaze and bare hint of a smile told me she already had answers to some of my seemingly endless questions, or her own, at least, the ones that mattered to her. And that the way she watched Geoffrey—with the fiery joy of someone who’d recently realized she wasn’t in the rough position she’d been thinking all along—made me wonder just what it was she had planned. Because taking him down was written all over her face.

  “Mr. Mauer is about to have a long and interesting talk with the state troopers.” Crew whispered that in my ear. “His little plan to steal from his guests might not have actually happened yet, but his admission has us digging into his past. There’s an excellent chance he’s going to prison sometime in the near future.”

  So be it. I flinched inwardly as I thought about what he’d told me, about his attraction to me and how he wished he’d said something. If he had, would I be on the other side of this conversation? Would Crew be investigating me, as Eddie’s girlfriend? I wanted to believe I would have been smarter than that, but I’d dated Ryan, hadn’t I?

  I really had a bad habit of letting my mind run off with me when I needed to focus on the here and now. Blame it on the exposure and the old drugs Caleb used to incapacitate me, why don’t you?

  “Despicable, really.” Olivia seized her opportunity, turning to Adrian who looked increasingly uncomfortable. “Senator Winterton, I hoped we could have a conversation about this horrible tragedy. Shall we?”

  He hesitated but nodded finally, following her out while Geoffrey glared after her
like she’d won some contest he was sure he’d nailed. Wait, did that mean there was actually doubt about the election now? My head spun as I leaned into Crew again, this time for real, though the big, insistent man who hurried through the front doors and to me before hugging me so tight I choked on the scent of his fabric softener didn’t give me much of a chance to enjoy my boyfriend’s comfort.

  Dad let me go a moment later, grasping my upper arms and shaking me just a little. Intense emotions raced over his face, through his eyes, enough my tears started all over again. I blamed them on the events of the last few hours and let them flow, hugging him back this time when he let out a low cry and embraced me with renewed anxiety. Mom joined us, arms around the two of us but when Crew started to back away, Dad grabbed him and tugged him close, shoving him toward me. Dad instead hugged Mom while my sheriff boyfriend resumed his supportive snuggle while I wiped at the tears on my cheeks.

  It should have been a happy ending. Except, Jill had to go and be all honest and everything. She approached, head down, grim and anxious, and blurted truths she should have kept to herself, as far as I was concerned.

  “I screwed up,” she said, “almost got Fee killed. I let murder suspects have active access to weapons, failed to uncover the murderer and missed the tunnels that allowed him access to the scene.” She swallowed hard. “And Olivia wants me to replace you as sheriff.”

  Oh, Jill.

  ***

  Chapter Thirty Four

  Honestly, I expected him to be upset. To at least react with some sort of startled surprise or concern. Instead, Crew nodded, like he already knew what Olivia was up to, and set one hand on Jill’s shoulder. I did my best not to resent that hand was supposed to be touching me instead in that moment while he spoke in a low, calm voice.

  “You’re a fantastic deputy, Jill,” he said, utterly reasonable and even smiling faintly, like he was praising her for considering stabbing him in the back. “I hope, if I don’t keep the job, you get it instead. And, that if I’m allowed to continue, I can count on you having my back like you have from day one.”

  Wow. I watched Jill’s red face go pale before she swallowed and nodded and spluttered assurances that Crew waved off before returning his offered hand of kindness to grasp mine. Where it belonged.

  “Let’s just wait and see what happens,” he said. And winked at me.

  What did he know I didn’t?

  “What’s going to happen to this place?” Yes, that’s what I tried to say. I think I managed, “this place” before my voice gave out.

  Mom glared at me, poking my ribs with one finger, though there was a smile behind her chastisement. “Don’t even think about it, Fee.”

  I hadn’t been. Okay, not seriously. Well, maybe. Olivia and Vivian were rubbing off on me. I was suddenly feeling acquisitive even though Petunia’s and the annex were plenty. Right?

  “The tunnels underground and inside the building themselves make this place quite interesting.” Was Dad exploring? Explained why he’d only made it to the main building now. “Might be a fun option, Lu.”

  Dad was thinking the same thing I was thinking? Shocking.

  Trouble was, turned out we weren’t the only ones. As Crew, laughing, guided me to the front doors, presumably to get me out of there before I totally lost my mind and really thought hard about buying this place, a large, black SUV pulled up, gravel crunching under the tires, while four suited men climbed out.

  “Excuse me.” Ryan pushed past Crew and headed toward them, whispering to them while the suits nodded and whispered back.

  “Lawyers,” my boyfriend growled.

  Ryan spun toward us, the poser, acting like he owned the place suddenly now that he had backup instead of shrinking into the shadows where he belonged. “Everyone out,” he said. “This is now the official property of the Blackstone Corporation and you are no longer welcome.”

  “This is a crime scene,” Crew said, growling tone cutting through my ex’s attitude, though the other four lawyers didn’t seem impressed. “And I’ll leave when I’m good and ready.”

  “The state troopers will handle the rest of the case,” one of the men said, his silver hair cut tight to his head, tall body buff despite his lined face and apparent age. “Your assistance is no longer required, Sheriff Turner.” They knew who he was, huh? Made sense. “Or yours, Miss Fleming.” Okay, that was just creepy.

  Fine. Whatever. Didn’t want this dump anyway.

  I should have demanded answers, about Blackstone, what they wanted, who was behind the corporation, why they were here and interested in Reading. But, since I wasn’t able to speak clearly enough to make my demands known, those questions would have to wait. I couldn’t resist, though, on my way by, stopping to have a final word with Ryan. Sure, I could have let it go, and I really didn’t have the capacity to fight with him right now, let alone the vocal chords. But as I stopped he looked down his nose at me and I just couldn’t resist.

  “Nice seeing you,” I forced out past my swollen throat. “Now get out of my town.” I guess either I was getting better or the core of utter disgust at him gave me the ability to speak past my injury.

  Ryan sneered. “To quote the sheriff here, I’ll leave when I’m ready.”

  Hitting him would have been illegal, right? I didn’t get the chance to find out. Not when Crew took a step closer, leaning in, smiling though I knew that smile and the faint tic that jerked the muscle under his left eye, a sure sign Sheriff Turner was pissed.

  “You’re ready,” he said. “I still have questions about your involvement in framing Miss Fleming. So if you really want to stick around, Mr. Richards, I’m happy to show you to a cell at the local jail.”

  Ryan looked nervous, glancing at his four companions who ignored him. No, correction. Who took a giant step away from him as if to distance themselves from him and the mess of his past. Nice to know even sharks could taste their own blood in the water and knew some semblance of self-preservation was in order.

  I really wanted the victory to be mine. Instead, it was Crew’s. Ryan nodded, backed off, got in the SUV, closed the door behind him. Good enough for me.

  And as my boyfriend helped me into the cab of his truck, I felt the final threads of my fury and hurt dissolve at Crew’s soft, careful touch, the way he latched my seatbelt for me, how his fingers drifted over my jawline and his lips brushed my cheek. He loved me. He truly cared about me and what happened to me. For the first time ever, I believed it. And hugged him so hard he grunted but didn’t argue about the embrace.

  I let him go, staring at my hands in my lap as he shut the door, waiting for him to climb into the driver’s seat while tears gathered and dripped to the backs of my clenched fists. So much time and energy wasted on Ryan, on hating him, on letting what he did wrong affect me. How had I let his betrayal turn back on me? Turn into meaning there was something wrong with me and that I wasn’t worthy of love like Crew’s? Shift my perceptions of caring so that I doubted my Dad’s love for my mother, doubted everyone’s motives when it came to the heart? I could see it now, so clearly, winding out behind me like a fetid trail of decay and betrayal, but it was mine. Not Ryan’s. My betrayal of myself and my own love.

  No more. I was done letting him have any kind of say over my heart. A swell of gratitude woke, washed over me, generated more tears as Crew climbed into the cab and closed his door. I looked up, blinking and smiling at him, heart full. I was glad suddenly Ryan cheated. So I could be free to love someone like Crew.

  Gone was the worry he might find someone else, that his love was temporary, that this slow, steady romantic dance of courtship was an excuse to lead me on. Instead, I saw it—and him—for what it truly was. Crew Turner making sure he did right by me. And himself.

  I leaned over and kissed him, soft, gentle, felt the faint scratch of his unshaven cheek, the warmth of his lips, the heat of his breath as one big hand cupped the back of my head and pulled me closer. I poured everything I’d just realized into that kiss
and felt him respond, though I doubted he knew what I’d been thinking. When we parted, he was the breathless one, my usual reaction.

  “Fee,” he whispered.

  “Crew.” I sat back and cleared my throat. “I love you, too.”

  Yeah, the word “love” as the only one that made it out. The only one that mattered.

  ***

  Chapter Thirty Five

  I sat at the back of the hall, keeping to myself, though the crowd shifted and flowed around me, almost like a living being, a single entity made up of what felt like the majority of the town of Reading. Olivia’s plan to live stream the event apparently wasn’t necessary. No one wanted to miss the debate of the century from the looks of things.

  It was hard to read the mood, as intense as the evening had become, with the two sides—Olivia vs. Geoffrey—seemed intent on building to a crescendo that would likely end in our cute little burg falling prey to a con man run by who knew what agenda.

  Then again, I had to admit, the efforts we’d made to assemble Olivia’s supporters to speak for her seemed to be helping somewhat. While I myself had to have Mom read our statement—I still couldn’t speak very well, though it was better than it had been, two days later—the long line of business people willing to support our present mayor was heartening.

  Not that it would matter if the ordinary just folks decided she wasn’t doing her job the way that they wanted her to. Geoffrey’s platform promoting family values and quiet wasn’t letting up and had only intensified the last few days. Calls for a return to the olden times made my teeth ache from grinding, but I held my peace, if only because the previously uptight and wound Olivia seemed the most relaxed I’d seen her in ages. Was it the email in her possession giving her hope? She hadn’t whipped it out yet, the proof Geoffrey had marching orders from the Patterson matriarch to bring Reading down to its old level of mediocre invisibility on the mayor’s agenda if what she told me Friday still held. Sheesh, really? Was it only Friday we met at French’s? Felt like years. Well, I had been through a murder and three attempts on my life since then, so I was cutting myself mondo slack in the time warp department.