Don't Catch Me

by Lorhainne Eckhart

  “Goddamn little shit came in here and pulled a gun in my face,” the man behind the counter said. He’d been crapping his pants when Chase walked in, but he was now working his way up to being an asshole.

  “Near as I can figure, I heard the commotion from where I was at the back of the store,” said the overweight farmer. “Saw the gun. Then this numbskull walks in, and everything went to hell.” He was actually pointing to Chase as if he were responsible for all of this, and he seemed angry at Chase for having put an end to something that could have gone really badly. The woman in the ball cap still hadn’t said a word as she crossed her arms, but her eyes made a God help me roll to the ceiling. She obviously knew the farmer.

  “Vern, you carry on worse than any woman,” she said. “And truth be told, the only thing this holdup stopped was you shoving another one of those Twinkies down the front of your baggy overalls.”

  “What the hell you accusing me of, woman? The girl’s the thief. I’m just a victim, minding my own business, stopping to gas up my truck.” The man was spitting, and patches of red appeared on his round pockmarked face, the kind that hinted he spent his evenings drowning his sorrows in some cheap bottle of Jim Beam or a godawful version of Keystone. Whatever it was, Chase was sure there was probably an empty bottle and dozens of cans tossed in the back of that rundown flatbed.

  “That true, Vern? You shoplifting?” the sheriff said, taking a step closer to the fat man. His scuffed boots scraped the floor, his hand resting on his belt. “And you, girl, stay right there.” He jabbed his finger to the girl. Chase was still waiting to learn her name. She’d yet to say one word.

  “Hell, no. She’s the damn criminal. What the hell you all doing looking over here at me?” Vern said, spitting again, sounding overly outraged. Chase couldn’t help glancing down at the bulge in his middle, wondering whether maybe he had something else stuffed down there.

  Chase took in the girl on the ground, her back resting against the wall of the counter, her knees pulled up. She was looking down, contemplating something. “How old are you?” Chase asked her again just as he tuned out the sheriff and this idiot, whom the sheriff was now demanding to show what he’d stuffed down his overalls. It was crazy like a bad sitcom, back and forth.

  The girl wouldn’t answer, and he finally squatted down in front of her.

  “What the hell you doing?” he heard one of the other cops say, and he glanced over to the shorter one, who had a pissed-at-life look on his face. “You just stand up there and move away from the girl,” he said. He had cuffs pulled from a pouch on his belt, moving to the girl as Chase stepped back, noting how the cop pinned her down and cuffed her hands behind her back, patting her down—a little too grabby and rough, in his opinion, anyways.

  “Hey, jerkoff, get your damn hands off my boob,” the girl said. She had a smart mouth, and Chase could see she wasn’t going to make this easy on herself.

  “Hey, take it easy. Can’t you see she’s just a kid?” He was standing behind the cop.

  “Get your ass back there out of my space,” the cop snapped at him again. “Armed robbery is something we take seriously around here. Don’t care how old she is. Shoving a gun in someone’s face isn’t just a slap on the wrist.”

  “I wasn’t robbing anyone.” It was the first time she’d said anything.

  “You just shut your mouth, girl,” the shop keep said, jabbing his hand toward her, his face dark. Chase couldn’t help wondering what the hell he’d walked in on.

  “If you weren’t robbing the place, then what were you doing?” Chase asked, taking a step toward the girl, who was now standing. The cop was holding her arm, maybe interested in her answer.

  “Just getting what was owed to me,” she said. She wasn’t looking at anyone, but Chase heard a breath catch behind him and took in the shocked expression on the face of the woman in the ballcap. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach that he wasn’t going to like what was coming.

  “Owed? What is owed?” the other cop asked. Everyone was looking at the shop keep, who had wide eyes, his hands raised now as if he were the innocent one here and everyone had forgotten it.

  “Thirty dollars he didn’t pay me for services rendered,” the girl said.

  “She’s a damn liar!” the man shouted, and Chase took in the debacle of a scene and quietly kicked his ass for not filling up in the town forty miles back.

  Chapter 2

  Rose Wilcox hadn’t planned on stopping at the Stop and Save. The fact was that she hadn’t needed gas, but she’d been craving something salty and decided on a whim to pull in for a bag of Lay’s Salt and Vinegar, then changed her mind when she saw the Cheetos. She’d ended up grabbing both and adding a Five Alive instead of a soda, telling herself one healthy choice cancelled out the addictive salty and cheesy treats.

  Then she’d seen Vern, whose wife had run out on him two decades back with the local vacuum repair guy, leaving him with a rundown thirty-acre spread on the Nevada side of the border, or so the rumor mill went. He’d slipped a Twinkie inside his overalls, and Rose had froze, debating whether to say something to Roy, the owner of this dive, who just happened to be a sleazy excuse for a man. He’d been watching her in the mirror the entire time, as he did every time she stopped in, the way creepy guys do. Why had she stopped here, again?

  For a minute, she’d considered putting everything back. Then she’d heard the commotion.

  Now she was trying to remember what the girl had said when she’d held up a gun and pointed it at Roy. Just a minute later, the good-looking dude had shown up in his suit pants and shirt, which appeared tailored and expensive. He’d done some amazing Kung Fu move, disarming the girl, taking the gun, and holding her there. Rose had felt his pain for a minute when the girl chomped down on his arm before he had a chance to pin her to the floor, and the next thing Rose realized, she’d dropped both the chips and the juice.

  Now she was being questioned by Floyd, the lanky deputy from the Oregon side, because the Stop and Save was located in Oregon, five miles outside McDermitt, a town that sat square on the border.

  “So you didn’t see her pull the gun?” Deputy Floyd asked, and Rose could see the shorter cop…what the hell was his name? Oh, yeah, Hap or some good ol’ boy name. He was leading the cuffed girl out to one of the cruisers and stuffing her in back.

  “No, I just heard a commotion and turned to see her holding a gun. I never figured out what or why before that stranger walked in and took her down.” She stepped away from the juice, which was oozing all over the floor, and she must have stepped on the chips, as the bag had broken open, making a crushed mess. “Can’t say I can offer much else. Can I go?” she asked. Her craving was now gone, and she wanted to get back home, needing to distance herself from whatever trouble this was.

  “Just need to get your formal statement and details first. You know that, Rose. Won’t take long. Kind of sucks, this happening, you getting stuck here.”

  She saw his wide smile, his interest as he took her in, and she noted the line where his wedding ring had once sat. “Louise up and left you, did she?” she asked. She knew his marriage was like a revolving door.

  “For good this time,” he replied and scribbled something on a pad of paper. “So you heard nothing else?”

  She shook her head. “Nope, everything was over pretty fast. That stranger kept asking her name and how old she was, but she didn’t answer. Don’t think I recognize her, but I did hear Roy, or maybe it was Vern, who said she was one of the Humboldt kids from that community farm on the Nevada side.”

  The deputy frowned and looked up and over. “We’ll check it out. Don’t you worry none.” He flashed her another smile. She didn’t smile back.

  “Listen, what’s going to happen to the girl?” she said. She also wanted to know what Roy’s part in this was, but then she decided she didn’t really want to have it in her head, that guy buying favors from a kid. She hoped the girl wasn’t turning tricks. Please, no!

 
; “She pulled a gun in a store, armed robbery,” Floyd said. “Roy says she was holding him up. The DA will decide whether she’ll go before a judge.” He sounded so cold, folding up his notebook and tucking it in his back pocket. “Guess we’re done here. Don’t leave town in case I need to speak with you again.”

  She wanted to roll her eyes, but she thought better of it as she took in Sheriff Tyler Moss just outside the door with that good-looking dude, who seemed upset about something. He was arguing with the sheriff, a man Kate thought was more about politics and money than about keeping any county safe. She knew arguing would likely get the stranger nowhere.

  Chapter 3

  Chase was staring at a cloud of dust from the sheriff’s two cruisers as they pulled away with the girl with no name in back. The only thing he knew about her was that she had a ton of attitude and figured the douchebag behind the counter owed her something. He had a wound on his arm from where she’d taken a piece out of him, and he squeezed his fist and lifted it to shake off the ache again as he heard the station door ding behind him.

  It was pink ball cap, and she was standing there, sizing him up. Instead of making small talk, she looked away before stepping off the cement step and starting to the brown pickup he’d spotted parked to the side. Overalls, who’d first tried to skip out with the Twinkies stuffed down his overalls, had eventually handed them over to the sheriff and slipped out into a rundown red truck that backfired once but was now heading the other way. It wasn’t lost on Chase that no charges had been brought against the man.

  “Hey, wait a second,” he called out, and the woman turned around and stared right through him as if he were nobody.

  “Yes?” Cool, too.

  “Was just wondering if you could tell me more about that girl and what you figured went down here,” he said, because even though this wasn’t his business and he needed to meet his brothers before heading to his dad’s in Henderson, he was bothered by everything about the situation.

  The woman glanced to the highway, made an odd face, and looked back to him. “Don’t know the girl. Never really heard what she said to Roy, but Roy isn’t the kind of guy who would win citizen of the year. She held a gun up to him, looked like a robbery. Could have been collecting something, though.” She wasn’t offering anything else.

  “Chase,” he said, and she seemed confused. “My name, and yours?” he added with a smile.

  She didn’t smile back. “Rose. Have a nice day,” she said and started walking away again.

  “Wait, so you think she was turning tricks and he didn’t pay her?” He was following Rose to her truck. This wasn’t something he’d experienced too often, a woman not wanting to give him the time of day. He knew he was handsome, with his charm, his smile, and the fact that he was tall, with the body of an athlete. Women often gave him that second and third look of appreciation. In fact, he had grown used to it. But not from this woman. She seemed more intent on getting away from him.

  “I don’t know. I hope not, but unfortunately, it sounds a lot like. Happens more than it should.” She gestured vaguely, sounding annoyed.

  “So you think the sheriff there will sort this out? Because I noticed Roy there is still inside working and the girl is gone, cuffed in the back of the sheriff’s car, and the Twinkie thief walked away with not even a warning. Not that she shouldn’t be held accountable, but if he’s buying sex and she’s a minor, that’s still statutory rape in this country. Pretty sure the Stop and Save and this here godforsaken place is still part of the USA.” He looked around, wanting to do something.

  She crossed her arms, and he got the sense she wasn’t impressed by his speech. Okay, so grandstanding was something he’d been required to do—past tense.

  “The sheriff won’t do anything,” she said, “since he spends more time at a whorehouse across the Nevada border than he does in his own county in Oregon. The girl, though…” She looked off into the distance and shook her head. “Sorry to say, but if she’s one of the Humboldt kids, she’s just one more that they’re fostering. Don’t know them, just heard about them. The community grapevine is active. They too are on the Nevada side of McDermitt, out by Vern’s place.” She jutted her thumb the direction the rusty red pickup had gone, then shrugged. He thought there was sadness there, but it could have been something else, too. She was confusing to read. Then she started walking away again, reaching for the door handle to her pickup.

  “So you’re saying she’s a foster kid who somehow got a hold of a gun and sold herself for sex to Roy, and he didn’t pay her, so she shows up here and shoves a gun in his face to get the few bucks he was supposed to toss her way?” As he said it, he remembered the girl’s hard expression, which had given nothing away. The girl was tough as nails and scared. The whole scenario was all too possible and not okay.

  As he thought back again to her face, her expression, her reaction, he found himself comparing her to his brother Aaron the first day he’d arrived on their doorstep, carrying a black garbage bag filled with his meager belongings. His parents had adopted him at age five, and by then he had been in seven foster homes. Funny how that moment in time stuck with him as if it were yesterday.

  “I don’t know for sure, but that was what she said. He didn’t pay her. What else could it be for?”

  “Shit,” he said, and Rose gave him an odd look. “I think there’s way more to the story. You think she’ll get a fair shake here?” he added just as she leveled a look his way that even he could tell said, Get serious. “Just what I thought,” he said. “So where are they taking her?”

  Her expression turned questioning as she tilted her head down the road. “Oregon side, up to Vale. Only place they can, with a jail and a court.”

  Of course it was, and now Chase found himself considering his options and where he had to be. He had obligations, a family, brothers waiting for him—and a girl with an attitude who was on her way to jail.

  Chase had taken two steps to his car when it hit him: He still needed gas, considering he was running on fumes. So much for getting away from this shithole.

  He turned around, readying himself for one more interaction with the prick who was now staring through the window at Rose in a way that was downright creepy. Rose was behind the wheel of her pickup truck and pulling away, and Chase had absolutely no doubt now that if he didn’t go back and try to help that kid in some way, at least make sure she got a fair shake, then her face was going to haunt him.

  Fuck!

  Chapter 4

  Chase gassed up his car and left messages for both Luc and Aaron that something had come up and he’d be late, so they’d need to have dinner without him. By the time he had driven back the way he’d come into Vale and found the sheriff’s office, the sun was starting to set. He was tired and hungry, and he needed some time in the gym to work out all his pent-up restless energy from having sat so long. He also needed to stop in at the local ER and get his arm looked at.

  He’d never been to Vale, and he took in the clean side streets and the orange brick building that made up the sheriff’s office. Before he could enter, the front doors opened, and he took in the short deputy he’d seen at the gas station.

  “Hey, there,” Chase said. “I was at the Stop and Save where the incident just happened. You brought the girl back with you?”

  The deputy took him in and then jutted his chin to the gash in Chase’s arm. “That looks bad. You should get it looked at,” he said, and it wasn’t lost on Chase that the man hadn’t answered his question about the girl. “She do that?” he went on to ask.

  “Just the wrong place at the wrong time. One of those things,” Chase said. “The girl, she in there?”

  Two could play this game, and the deputy was in the wrong league if he thought he’d be able to best Chase. This was his arena, and he had mastered evasion.

  “She’s talking with the sheriff,” the deputy finally said before starting down the steps and heading to a cruiser.

  Chase pulled open the
door and walked down the hall to a set of doors inset with clouded Plexiglass and red lettering that read Sheriff, though the final f was starting to fade. He pushed open the door and went to the counter. A woman with dark hair who looked as if she were someone’s grandma, with glasses perched on the edge of her nose, said, “Can I help you?”

  He wasn’t sure about her Midwest accent, something he thought started a little further east. “Yeah, Chase McCabe. I understand the sheriff is speaking right now with the young lady he picked up at the gas station outside McDermitt.” He tapped his fingers on the counter.

  “You mean the girl he arrested,” she said as if he didn’t have a clue what the facts were.

  “Yes, the girl who was cuffed, arrested, and stuffed in the back of a cruiser.” He forced the point.

  She paused for a second as if considering him an asshole. “Yes, the girl who was arrested for armed robbery. Don’t look too good for her. The sheriff is questioning her now.”

  “I’d like to speak with him,” Chase said, but the woman was already shaking her head.

  “Sorry, no can do. He’s going to be a while. You can wait over there if you like.” She had a file in her hand, and she gestured with it to three straight-backed older kitchen chairs that had to be from the seventies before turning her attention to a pile of papers on the counter.

  “Does the girl have legal counsel in with her?”

  “Pardon?” The woman seemed annoyed—confused, too, as if people didn’t ask for such a thing.

  “A lawyer. Is her lawyer in there with her?”

  She actually snorted out a laugh as she waved her hand. “No, that thing doesn’t look like she’d be able to afford much of anything.”

  Also what he was afraid of. “Then I’m going to have to ask you to interrupt the sheriff, because I’m the girl’s lawyer, and he doesn’t talk to her without me.”