“Don’t worry, Tara. I promise I’ll make it feel so good for you,” he whispers in my ear, dragging it out until it’s sickly.
13
Dwight’s hand slides further up my leg as he boxes me into the wall. I hold my breath trying to stay as far away from him as possible. There’s a loud bang and another burst of cold air, but it’s not until I hear a deep voice that makes my heart soar that I let my lungs fill again. The fear still gripping my nerve endings leaves me unable to move.
“Get away from her, Shoemaker.” Graham addresses Dwight by his last name, which I don’t remember telling him.
Even Graham’s commanding presence doesn’t sway my attacker. Dwight smiles, his nose running against my ear as he laughs. His breath whips harshly against my skin, causing a chill in my bones. He’s gone mad. Or has he always been this way and I never saw? Either way it will be okay. I believe it with everything in me. Graham is here now and I’m safe. Whatever happens, he won’t let me get hurt.
“No, I don’t think I will.”
BANG!
A gun fires, the sound vibrating the walls in the enclosed cellar. I scream, trying to sink to the floor, but Dwight holds me up.
“What the hell are you thinking, mother fucker?” he yells at Graham.
“I’m not fucking around. Get away from her.”
Dwight finally steps away, but barely an inch. He doesn’t let me out of his space at all. It does, however, give me a clear view to the front of the root cellar. There’s a scuffling, feet scraping against the floor and Ridge, with his dark hair and tall muscular body, works to maneuver Graham out of the way. He’s unsuccessful but does get to the side to stand level with him.
“This isn’t the Wild West, Graham Kinney.”
Graham grunts. “You’d get more shit done if it was.”
Ridge inches forward with Graham keeping pace. “Listen, Dwight, I don’t know what’s going on here—”
“Nothing is going on here,” Dwight cuts Ridge off mid-sentence.
“Well, clearly something is.” Ridge laughs in a non-funny way as his eyes quickly scan the room, taking in all the marijuana plants and growing equipment. The bright lights are now hurting my eyes, and I blink, keeping his image in focus.
“Weed is legal in Maine, so you haven’t seen anything except you breaking and entering into my private space.”
“This much weed isn’t legal.” Ridge inches closer.
Graham steps too. “And you’ve got your hand on my woman, so I don’t care what you’re doing here, but you need to step away before I shoot you.”
Ridge cast his arm across Graham’s chest not letting him get closer.
The whole time these two have been going back and forth with Dwight, he’s done nothing but continue to press his disgusting body up against mine. The air is full of his nasty breath. I don’t know what’s taking them so long, but I’m done standing around waiting to see what happens. Someone needs to take action.
The calm that Graham’s presence brought earlier has all but evaporated. Dwight’s body moves a fraction of an inch, giving me the clearance I need. He forgets about me for a second, but it’s enough. I bring my knee up as fast as possible and he crumbles to the ground in a heap, grabbing himself and screaming.
“That’s what you get, asshole.”
“You bitch!” Dwight reaches for my ankle as I run past, but this hold isn’t strong enough to keep me this time. I run straight into Graham’s arms and he scoops me up, holding me tightly to his chest and kissing me on the lips.
“You’re okay?” he asks his hands running over my arms.
There’s movement further in the back of the cellar and a table tips over to the side, dirt and leaves scattering on the bare floor. When Graham lets me have a look over his shoulder, I see Ridge has pounced on Dwight, twisting his arms behind his back and tying them together with a clear piece of plastic like a zip tie.
“That was the dumbest thing,” Ridge says pulling Dwight up to his knees.
“What were you thinking?” Graham asks, plastering me with kisses in between words.
I was thinking of hurrying the hell up or else we’d be down here all night. “He didn’t have a gun or knife.”
When men come to a root cellar with an unarmed man, they should charge at him. There’s no room for negotiations. Someone had to take him down.
Graham brushes back a piece of my hair and holds my chin up until we’re staring at one another. His eyes are full of shock and horror, but as Ridge scrambles to get Dwight under control, Graham’s expresses changes to one of love and maybe even a little astonishment. Under the intense lighting of the staircase we kiss. It’s deeper and more passionate than any other kiss we’ve shared. One for the record books.
“Come on,” he says practically pulling me up the stairs and out of the root cellar.
I don’t complain, wanting to gather him as closely as possible. I may never be able to go into a dank underground space again. Already it feels as if there’s bugs with little Dwight heads climbing all over my body, stirring in my hair and under my clothing.
At the top of the cellar Graham continues to check me over, his hands running along my legs and my arms, over my ribs. He feels the back of my neck and his thumb moves slowly across a scrape one of the paper boxes gave me on the cheek.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks still giving me a perverted pat down.
“I promise.” All I want to do now is get as far away from this place as possible. The night air is cold and I wrap my arms around myself trying to stay warm. I never got a jacket before coming to search for Dwight since I didn’t plan to stumble upon what I did.
Graham takes his jacket off and wraps it around my shoulders. In the distance, sirens scream and soon three and eventually four cop cars whip into the parking lot of the bed-and-breakfast, choosing to stop wherever they please in the little parking lot. Police officers pile out of the cars and find their way quickly down into the root cellar where Ridge waits with Dwight.
“I was so worried,” Graham says. “I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.”
It’s not that I’m particularly happy he was scared I’d die, but seeing Graham and his large frame rattled over the possibility of missing me brings me more joy than it should. Maybe being locked away with Dwight in the root cellar did more damage to my brain then I realized. PTSD.
“I’m sorry. I went to look for Dwight when he was late and that’s when I found everything. I didn’t know what to do.”
His thumb rubs against the box cut again, looking at it concerned, but it must not be deep because I barely feel it even with a brush of his skin against mine. “Did he touch you because I’ll kill him.”
I shake my head no. They saw the worst of it.
“Threatening to kill a suspect under police custody? My, my, my, Ridge is starting to hire them with fewer brains,” a man in a long brown trench coat with the police badge strung around his neck says shaking his head as he walks by the two of us still huddled together.
“Anderson. I don’t think he’s in police custody yet since you were so late.” Graham squeezes me tighter, putting his body between me and the detective.
“If anything happens to him once we have him in custody, I’ll make sure I pay you a special visit.”
“You do that,” Graham yells at his retreating back. “Local cops.”
“Should you be antagonizing a detective?”
Graham shakes his head smiling. “He’s just pissy because Ridge has solved more crime in the city than he has this last year.”
A shiver racks my body and I step sideways using him as a windbreak.
“Let’s get you inside.” He wraps his arm around my shoulder and leads me into the back door of the bed-and-breakfast.
Getting away from the lights and sirens in the parking lot is a needed escape, but I still see the flashing lights from the dining room where Graham deposits me before getting an ice cream cone from the kitchen.
<
br /> 14
The cold outside matches the temperature of the blood running through my veins even though I’m still wearing Graham’s coat and we’ve been inside the Pelican Bay police station for over an hour. Detective Anderson from last night asked every question under the sun involving Dwight and working at the bed-and-breakfast. My whole life was laid before everyone.
I’ve been less than helpful. Not because I’m still in shock — which I am — or because I have any loyalties, but I had no idea. Sure, Dwight was a bit strange, but I never thought he could be a drug kingpin of Pelican Bay. I never saw that coming. Who would?
A shiver racks my body and Graham pulls me in close, rubbing his hand up and down my arm.
“I promise we’re almost done here,” the detective says, scratching a few of my last words on a piece of paper in front of him. “Is there anything else you can think of before we finish?”
I shake my head with a double shrug. “I’m sorry.”
“Cammie never said anything to you or gave you any indication something illegal was happening at the bed-and-breakfast?”
He’s asked a lot of questions about Cammie. “Cammie doesn’t even like Dwight. She thinks he’s weird.”
No sooner have I said her name but I catch sight of someone resembling her being led into the police station from the corner of my eye. Except when I turned and twist, getting a better look, it’s not a person resembling Cammie. It’s Cammie. She’s led in by another police officer with her hands handcuffed behind her back and her head held low.
As she walks past our eyes connect and even though she doesn’t speak any words, there’s a slew of emotions held behind them. She sniffles and raises a shoulder to her ear before the officer jerks on her arm and pulls her in the other direction.
“Why is Cammie in handcuffs?” What have they done to my friend?
The detective turns around, scowling at his fellow officer. “I’m not allowed to discuss facts of the case, but it appears there’s more than one bed-and-breakfast employee in on the distribution operation. We’re still sorting out the details.”
Cammie? Working with Dwight to sell drugs? It doesn’t make sense. Why would she do that? And why at the bed-and-breakfast, the place where she works? The town staple? Anger and disgust form a big black pit in my belly, sticky and hard, that catches on all the surfaces. I’ve been in Pelican Bay six months, just as long as she’s been at the bed-and-breakfast and I didn’t know these people.
How did so many things get past me? How didn’t I see any of the signs? What are the signs? Has anyone written a book on what to look for if you suspect your best friend is dealing drugs through your hotel? How did I allow all this to happen under my watch?
I’m betrayed and hurt and sad but most of all confused. Was everything during my time with the bed-and-breakfast lie? Is Pelican Bay?
“I think you upset her enough for tonight. Don’t you think, Anderson?” Graham stands but I don’t follow until he pulls on my arm a little and then it’s like a reflex to stand at his side. “You have all of my findings as well?”
The detective nods. “You were very thorough in investigating the bed-and-breakfast. We’re done for tonight but I wouldn’t go too far as I’m sure we’ll have more questions coming and of course the court dates if anyone decides not to bargain.”
“Of course,” the man I thought I was getting to know so well says. Even his voice sounds different. Odd. Was nobody in this town who they said they were? Am I a lie too?
We’re halfway down the police building steps before I realize we’re out in the cold again. Graham bundles me up in his truck, turning the heat on full blast even though I don’t notice it. Our drive to the bed-and-breakfast is short and quiet.
“I know you have a lot of questions and I’m going to answer every single one of them for you tonight.”
His truck idles in the parking lot. “Did you lie to me?” I ask, not bothering to unbuckle my seatbelt.
The big blue and white building I once found so comforting and familiar — something straight out of a Hallmark movie — now looms dark and sinister. As if I never really knew the building in the first place. Maybe I didn’t. Graham asked me once about how well you can ever know your coworkers and he was right. I didn’t know them at all. And now I suspect I don’t know him either.
Graham grabs my hand but I pull away. There’s heartbreak in his eyes, but anger in mine. “No. I promise, Tara. I’ve never lied to you.”
“But you were here spying on the bed-and-breakfast?”
He nods. “Let me take you inside and I will explain everything.”
I hesitate. I feel used and hurt. Was everyone nice because they needed to keep me in the dark? How much did he use me to find out more information about what was happening the bed-and-breakfast? Is that the only reason he was ever nice to me? Is that the reason Cammie became my friend? Both sides have played me for a fool, and I was too dumb to see.
“I don’t want to go in there.” The building and snow-covered porch are the last places I feel safe tonight.
A gust of wind batters the truck window. “Please let me explain. Don’t leave me out here alone.”
I shake my head. It’s not that I don’t want to go with him. It’s that I don’t want to go in at all. “It’s not you. It’s the building.”
A slip of a smile cracks his face and he grunts a short chuckle. “That is probably the first time anyone has heard that one.”
Somehow, I managed to grin as well even if it quickly fades. Damn him for almost making me laugh. How dare he?
“Go inside with me and I promise I won’t leave you for the night. Unless you tell me to and then I’ll drive you anywhere else you want to go.”
My eyes search out his. “Promise?”
He nods, and I agree. But it takes Graham getting out of the truck and opening my door before I finally budge. I walk quickly into the bed-and-breakfast and down the long hallway that leads to his room. I don’t want to be anywhere near the area I’ve slept the last few months. The place it was too close to so many bad things. His room at least has happy memories.
Once in the room Graham kicks off his shoes and sits on the bed, but I take a seat the small table and chair on the opposite corner. I’m no longer at ease in my favorite place.
With a deep breath he begins his story. “I did come to Pelican Bay to help out my friend Ridge. He’s gathered quite the reputation in town and he wanted somebody people weren’t familiar with to work this job.”
“Everyone knew you were working for him.” For an undercover spy he was horrible at hiding his identity.
“That part didn’t matter. I needed a reason to be here. He needed somebody with a reasonable explanation for a long stay. He was tracking the bed-and-breakfast for months but had been unable to find any concrete information. My job was to poke around when no one was looking.”
Of all the information I’ve learned tonight — from Dwight running a drug business and my friend Cammie being somehow involved — Graham’s lies hurt the worst. I want to lash out at someone or something. Preferably him. I thought we had something special. We were building a relationship, but the only thing Graham cared about was building a case.
“So, you pretended to like me because you needed information about the bed-and-breakfast?”
He scoots closer on the bed, throwing his legs over the side to get as near me as possible without touching. “No. I will fully admit you were a possible subject, just like everybody at the bed-and-breakfast. For exactly two minutes. If you and Cammie had looked at the USB drive, you would have found files of every employee. Only a few of you weren’t immediately cleared as innocent.”
“Like Cammie?” Even saying the words hurts.
He nods. “I’m sure the police will find out the full story, if they get a confession out of her, but it looks as if rather than leaving mints on pillows, she was leaving bags of hash after cleaning certain rooms.”
“Did Cammie know you were
here for her?” She certainly didn’t steer me away from him, but maybe that was an act too. Who knows anymore?
He thinks about the answer for a moment. “I don’t think so, but when I saw the two of you in my room, I definitely panicked. I know you have to be upset about this whole situation, but I do think Cammie is a girl who got messed up with the wrong people. She has nothing in her past record. Not even a parking ticket.”
I unzip my coat from the unbearable heat and wrap a piece of my shirt around my finger. “Why would she do it?”
“Everyone’s reasons are different, Tara, but it looks like she needed the money. She has a sick brother and every month she’s been depositing five thousand dollars into her mother’s bank account.”
So, Cammie was delivering drugs to support a sick brother? It’s not right, but maybe it’s not as painful as I imagined. What will happen to her brother now?
What will happen to me now? I can’t continue working here. Not at the place where I’ll constantly see Dwight lurking behind every corner or where I allowed a group of people to haul a ton of drugs in and out of Maine literally underneath my bed. What a failure.
I wipe away a tear quickly, but Graham sees, and no longer stays on the bed. He picks me up in his strong arms and caresses my back, placing me on the pillow and wrapping his arms around my shoulders. “I’m so sorry for the part that I played. But I promise I never meant to hurt you, and everything I said between the two of us is absolutely the truth.”
I nod my head and then shake it. Just call me a bag of mixed-up emotions. I’m angry and hurt and don’t want to believe him because it’s too convenient. But on the other hand, for some reason I trust Graham. He never once asked for information about the bed-and-breakfast or Cammie or Dwight. He never pressed. He never used me to get things for him. The only information I shared with him was our nights together.
Sweetest Risk Page 8
