by Debbie Mason
“We’re investigating the murder of my friend. He was a deputy with the Jackson County Sheriff’s Department.”
“The man found in the woods near the cottage?” The man who’d been trying to help her brother. The man who was killed because he knew too much. “I’m very sorry for your loss,” she said at his clipped nod.
Turning, she walked back into the store and forced a smile for her grandmother, who was rocking Michaela in a chair by the display window. “Hey, Granny, I need to talk to Nate and Michael for a minute. Are you okay with Michaela?”
“And why wouldn’t I be? Look at her, sleeping like an angel.”
Of course she was. The moment Michael and Gabe had pulled out of her driveway last night, Michaela had woken up. Sadie was lucky if she’d managed forty-five minutes of uninterrupted sleep. Between that and panic, she was struggling to come up with a way to deal with this situation. How much of what her brother had told her should she share?
Calm down, she told herself as she walked down the hall to the office with Michael and Nate following close behind. She’d need all her wits about her. Both she and her grandmother could face charges of aiding and abetting a known felon. She’d been in this position before. Only then she’d been a terrified thirteen-year-old who’d made the mistake of trusting her father.
She opened the office door, praying they didn’t notice her fingers trembling on the knob. Wishful thinking on her part, she thought, catching Michael glancing at her hands. She folded her arms across the pink unicorn T-shirt she had on. Nate wore the same only several sizes larger. The office seemed crowded, the air charged and stifling—perhaps the reason she was having trouble breathing and felt faint.
“You should probably sit down, Sadie,” Michael suggested.
She wondered if he could tell her hands weren’t the only thing shaking—so were her legs. But she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of appearing weak or intimidated. She leaned back against the edge of the desk instead of sitting down. “I’m fine. Why are you telling me who you are now?” she asked, buying time while playing through her options in her head.
“Yeah, Mikey, remind me again why we’re breaking our cover?” His arms crossed over his broad chest, Nate glared at his partner.
A partner who ignored him. “By meeting with your brother, you put yourself at risk, Sadie. The men who are looking for him could use you to draw him out.”
“Or they might come to the conclusion they’ve been looking for the wrong Gray all along,” Nate said.
“Either way, you’re in danger,” Michael said without correcting his partner.
“You think I had something to do with the drugs and shooting the deputy?” She pulled out the chair from the desk and sat down before her legs gave out. She wasn’t expecting to have to defend herself against charges of drug dealing and murder. Against aiding and abetting, yes, but never this.
“We should have the ballistics report back on your grandmother’s gun within the next seventy-two hours. We’ll know if it was used to kill Brodie then,” Nate said.
The gun she’d turned over to Gabe last night. The gun that had been in her brother’s possession since last summer.
“So you might as well come clean now,” Nate added, while Michael stayed perfectly still and quiet.
He was leaning against the wall, watching her. Like he’d watched her back in February from across the road. The day of hearts. Her grandmother’s prediction hadn’t been about Elijah or Drew after all. It had been about Michael.
“I didn’t shoot your friend, and I had nothing to do with stealing the drugs from the Whiteside Mountain Gang. You believe me, don’t you?” she asked Michael. “I’d just moved back to Highland Falls. I—”
“The autopsy came back last week. Brodie was shot in February,” Nate clipped out as if the words were hard for him to say.
“There’s no way I could have been involved in his shooting. I was almost nine months pregnant. You know that, Michael. You were…” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why were you there that day? Did you do something to the road, to my car? Did you set it up so I’d crash?”
“Of course not. Brodie had set up a meet with Nate there a few days before.” He glanced at the other agent. “We were searching for him, for clues.”
Her eyes went wide. “You,” she said to Nate. “You’re Eddie Taylor.”
He gave her a slight bow. “At your service.”
She shook her head. She’d thought they were her heroes, that Michael was her knight in shining armor, and all along they were lying to her. “What do you want from me?” Her voice was strained from holding back her emotions.
“We want to know where Elijah is,” Michael said.
“I don’t know. I don’t,” she repeated when he raised an eyebrow. It was true. She hadn’t heard from Elijah. He could be anywhere by now.
“After last night, you must know he’s in danger, Sadie. If they find him before we do, he doesn’t stand a chance.”
“And I’m supposed to believe he stands a chance with you, with him?” She lifted her chin at Nate. “You’ve tried and convicted him.”
“Are you saying that he didn’t steal the cocaine or kill Brodie?” Michael asked.
“Before you answer, you might want to remember that we’re the only ones who stand in the way of you going to jail for aiding and abetting. Same goes for your grandmother,” Nate said.
“Ease up, Black.” Michael pushed off the wall. “Look, Sadie, I know this is a lot to take in. But we’re”—he glanced at his partner and then back at her—“I’m on your side. I know how you felt about your brother stealing the drugs. You told me. So no, I don’t believe you’re involved. But you have to look at this from our perspective, and right now, all the evidence is pointing at your brother shooting Brodie.”
“He didn’t. He didn’t kill Brodie. He—” She closed her mouth. She’d said too much. She was angry that Michael had been lying to her but she didn’t want him to end up dead like Brodie. She’d never forgive herself. She imagined that’s how her brother felt.
“He told you who he thinks killed Brodie, didn’t he?” When she remained silent, Michael said, “Sadie, we know Brodie and your brother believed the Jackson County Sheriff’s Department is somehow involved in all of this. That’s why we’re undercover, and it’s why we have to stay that way. None of what we’ve said to you can leave this room.”
“So Nate is going to continue working at the store?” she asked, avoiding meeting the other agent’s hard stare. He didn’t trust her. She supposed she didn’t blame him. He believed her brother killed his friend. He wasn’t open to the possibility Elijah might not have had anything to do with Brodie’s death. But Michael seemed to be.
Michael nodded. “Yes, he’ll be here to protect your grandmother, and you and Michaela when you’re here. For that reason, I’d like you to suggest to your grandmother that she rent the second bedroom in her apartment to Nate. It shouldn’t be a tough sell. She needs the money.”
Her grandmother probably wouldn’t be difficult to convince, but Nate looked like he would be. Her life, their lives, were spiraling out of control, which might have been why she almost missed Michael’s quietly stated “I’ll be staying with you.”
She gaped at him. “Staying with me, as in moving in with me?” Her brain seemed to have missed the memo that she shouldn’t be happy about this turn of events. She blamed it on sleep deprivation.
“Yes, Abby has already created a cover story about us that by now half the town has bought into.”
“And what cover story is that?” Sadie asked, thinking this was very close to what she’d wished for last night before Michael closed the door on her hopes and dreams. Now she knew why they said Be careful what you wish for.
Nate clasped his hands to his chest, raising his voice to a grating falsetto. “Michael Knight is Sadie’s knight in shining armor. He helped deliver that precious child of hers into the world and the two of them fell madly in love.”
Nate rolled his eyes. “What a pile of fairy-tale bullcrap. I wouldn’t have believed it myself if I hadn’t heard it almost verbatim from at least ten different sources.” He waggled his eyebrows at Michael. “Too bad his real name is Chase Roberts and not Michael Knight.”
Chapter Fourteen
Chase stared at his partner, who simply shrugged like what he’d just told Sadie was no big deal. But it was a big deal. To Chase, and to her. “Sadie, I can—”
She held up a hand. “Don’t bother. There’s nothing you can say that I want to hear.” Her eyes met his. They were cold, and the expression on her face was one of icy disdain. “You’re not staying with me and my daughter at the cottage.”
Chase took a step toward her, raising his hands when she backed away. “Look, I know you’re upset, and I don’t blame you. But you need protection, Sadie.”
“Call one of your FBI buddies or get Gabe to assign one of his deputies to protect us. I don’t care who it is, as long as it’s not you.”
Before he could respond, she sent him one last killing glare and then stalked out of the office and slammed the door.
“Ouch. If looks could kill, you’d be dead, buddy.”
“Thanks to you. That was a bullshit move, Black.”
“It was your call, remember? You’re the one who blew our cover.” He grinned. “So looks like you’re staying with Mrs. M, and I’m playing house with Sadie and the demon spawn.”
“No, we stick to the plan,” Chase said, barely resisting the urge to wipe the smirk from Black’s face. “Once Sadie has a chance to cool down, I’ll explain to her why it has to be me.”
“Let me know when you plan to give her the news. I want a ringside seat.”
As the hours ticked by without Sadie responding to his texts or his attempts to call her, Chase debated skipping the last two hours of his shift and heading back into town. He’d manned the visitors’ center for the morning, helped rescue two lost hikers by midafternoon, and now was on trail-maintenance duty, so he figured he’d met his park ranger responsibilities for the day.
He glanced at the wildflowers in the meadow as he walked toward the cottage on Willow Creek and wondered if they’d make an acceptable peace offering. But then he remembered the look on Sadie’s face seconds before she slammed the office door, and he knew he had to do better. Black would be of no help, and it wasn’t like Chase could call any of Sadie’s friends to ask for advice. If Chase played it right, her grandmother might have a suggestion. After all, she seemed to believe he and Sadie were dating.
He crossed the dirt road and headed for the rock under the weeping willow. Pulling out his cell phone, he checked the screen. Nothing from Sadie or Black. His partner was ignoring him too. Chase sat on the rock and called Black. He answered on the second ring.
“Seriously, Roberts. I’m working here. I don’t have time to respond to your hourly texts. Nothing’s changed. She’s still pissed at you, and at me.”
“Did she at least talk to her grandmother about you renting a room?”
“Oh yeah, she took care of that all right. She told Mrs. M I love to listen to opera, play Monopoly, and watch the Hallmark Channel.”
“Sounds like you’re lucky she didn’t tell Agnes you’re also a vegetarian who likes to play hair and makeup,” Chase said around a smile.
“Don’t even joke about that. I wouldn’t put it past her. She’s not as sweet as she looks. She has a vindictive streak a mile wide.”
Chase would rather her be mean and vindictive than sad and hurt. Although he had a feeling that, under her icy disdain this morning, there’d been a boatload of hurt and betrayal. She’d trusted him.
“I can’t wait to see what she has in store for you,” Black continued. “I’m guessing she hasn’t responded to you yet.”
“No, she hasn’t.” He gritted his teeth. He hated to ask his partner for a favor, but he didn’t have a choice. “If you can get her alone, you need to impress upon her how important it is that our cover isn’t blown. To that end, I’m the only one who can stay with her without raising suspicions.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll see what I can do.”
Chase blinked, surprised. “I expected you to put up more of a fight.”
“Well, you’re the only one who the members of the Jackson County Sheriff’s Department might not consider a deterrent if they wanted to make a move on her. Now I have to go.” His partner disconnected.
Despite the sunshine glinting off the creek and warming the place where he sat on the rock, the potential danger to Sadie and Michaela left Chase cold. He leaned against the tree and closed his eyes. They needed to bring in Elijah sooner rather than later. The gurgle of the creek and the chirping of birds alleviated some of the tension in his chest. It made it easier to think, to come up with a plan to bring Elijah in. He’d need Sadie’s help to do so.
As he mulled over how to win back her trust, something wet touched his hand and then the weight of his phone disappeared. “What the…?” He opened his eyes to see a golden retriever grinning at him around his cell phone.
Chase came to his feet slowly so as not to startle the dog. “Okay, come here. Give me back my phone, and I’ll give you a treat.” He patted his thigh. The dog cocked his head, and Chase could have sworn he was laughing at him.
Chase picked up a stick. “How about catch? You want to play catch?” He threw the stick, but instead of taking the bait, the dog ran alongside the creek. Chase sprinted after him.
“Finn! Come here, boy!” a woman called. She sounded like she was half a mile up the road.
“Over here!” Chase yelled in hopes that the dog’s owner would have more luck getting his phone. The dog turned and barreled toward him.
Chase smiled, relieved, and bent to retrieve his phone. “Good boy. That’s a good—ugh.”
The dog headbutted him in the stomach, hard. Chase lost his breath and his balance. Arms pinwheeling, he slipped on green-slime-coated rocks and landed flat on his back in the creek. The fast-moving, surprisingly deep and frigid creek. Finn bounded in after him without Chase’s phone in his mouth. Chase might have been relieved if the dog hadn’t landed on top of him, pushing him under. From beneath the icy, crystal-clear water, he saw the dog peering down at him. Chase wrapped his arms around the retriever and managed to get himself in an upright position. From the other side of the creek, an older woman frantically waved her arms. “Save him. Please save him!”
Chase didn’t know if she was talking about the dog saving him or him saving the dog, but he didn’t have time to think about it. The current was pushing them toward a line of boulders jutting out of the creek. Keeping one arm wrapped around the dog’s neck, Chase used the other arm to swim toward shore. His limbs were stiff—numb from the cold—and his clothes were weighing him down. It wasn’t until the dog got in on the act that Chase made any headway. Finn towed Chase to shore, depositing him on the rocks before racing to his owner.
“My poor baby,” she crooned, then lifted her gaze to Chase as he dragged himself the rest of the way out of the water. “Thank you for saving him. I don’t know what I’d do without him. How can I ever repay you?”
There was no way he was going to tell the woman that Finn had saved him. If it weren’t for her dog, Chase wouldn’t have almost drowned. “All in a day’s work, ma’am. But I’d suggest you keep your dog on a leash from now on.”
After promising to do as he suggested, the woman set off with her dog trailing after her. Chase waited until they’d reached a car parked on the side of the road before going in search of his phone. It was lying on the grass. Other than some teeth marks and slobber, it looked none the worse for wear. Apparently, it was still working, because there was a text from Black on the screen.
She’s not happy about it, but she agreed to you providing her protection. You owe me, partner. Dinner from Zia Maria’s on Main Street for starters. I’ve called in the order.
An hour later, Chase walked into Zia Maria’s on Main Street. It smell
ed like heaven and Luciano’s, his favorite Italian restaurant in DC. In comparison to the fine-dining establishment he’d frequented with his grandfather for the past two decades, this was a tiny hole in the wall with terra-cotta tiles, the candles in wicker-wrapped Chianti bottles casting a warm, friendly glow on the red-and-white-checked tablecloths. Two of the restaurant’s ten round tables were occupied by diners.
The men at one of the tables were around his grandfather’s age. Chase imagined the judge sitting with them, enjoying the easy camaraderie of lifelong friends, instead of sitting with the residents of the exclusive retirement home where he currently resided.
Chase was his grandfather’s only visitor at the retirement home. The judge had devoted his life to his legal career. He hadn’t wasted his time making or keeping friends. The couples that his grandparents had socialized with had been more her friends than his. They’d drifted away when his wife died, long before Chase and his brother had moved in with him.
Chase worried how his grandfather was faring without his twice-weekly visits. The judge still refused to take his calls. He’d been angrier about Chase’s demotion than he had been.
Chase stuck his hands in the pockets of the jeans that Black had insisted he buy. The other agent had shaken his head when Chase unpacked his suitcase at the no-name motel off the highway where they’d rented two adjoining rooms last week. According to Black, Chase needed jeans to fit in, not suits and chinos.
Chase glanced at the menu written in Italian on two chalkboards that hung from the redbrick walls to the side of a long line of customers waiting at the counter. The lineup as much as the basil-scented air gave Chase hope that the food would be as authentic as the atmosphere.
“Look, look who it is,” a diminutive woman cried from behind the counter, waving the customers in line to the side with a wooden spoon stained with tomato sauce. She wore her dark hair in a bouffant style similar to the one his grandmother used to wear.
He turned to see who she was talking about. There was no one behind him.
