From far away I heard the sheriff reading Leroy his Miranda rights.
“Parker, talk to me,” I said, pressing harder on his wound.
His emerald eyes fluttered open. “Generals are going all the way this year.” His voice was hoarse, but strong.
Tears flooded my eyes and I blinked impatiently, my face nearly cracking with the force of my smile. “If you say so.”
“I do.”
“Keep him talking.” The tall deputy crouched behind me, leaning close to my ear. “Ambulance is on its way. Can I help you?”
I shook my head, my eyes still on Parker’s face, which had gone pale under his summer’s-coming tan.
“The cavalry’s en route,” I said.
“Did I actually get shot? Because…what the hell?”
“No kidding. Dead people, bullets flying, cowboys peeing in the parking lot…Is this a wedding rehearsal or an Adam Sandler movie?”
“Cowboys what?” His voice sounded strained.
“Pretty sure you know this particular cowboy.” I pressed harder, watching the flow slow a little more.
“Are you goddamn kidding me? Was it Bubba?”
I nodded, choking on a laugh at his indignant tone, given the situation.
“I think you’re going to be just fine,” I said. “You’d better be, after all the work I’ve put into next weekend.” I winked, the last of the tears dripping off my chin onto my shirt.
“This isn’t what we had in mind when we asked you to be maid of honor. Just so you know.”
“I’ve gained a whole new respect for my mother. I could not do this for people I didn’t care about. Too much stress, man.”
I heard the ambulance roll to the top of the hill and smiled. “Here we go. Just a quick detour to the hospital. That I can handle.”
“Mel.” His eyes went wide.
“She’s not back yet.”
A latex-gloved pair of petite hands closed over mine and I pulled free, standing as the medics loaded Parker onto a stretcher and wincing as my spine straightened. Sheriff Jim had some muscle behind that shove.
I looked around, conflicted. I wanted to go with Parker and make sure he was okay.
I needed to stay put and make sure everything else didn’t come apart at the seams.
Nobody else could handle the wedding minutiae, but surely someone wouldn’t mind riding to the hospital.
My eyes lit on Larry, Nikon raised and clicking away as he spun in a slow circle.
“One minute, we’re hearing about choosing a barrel made from the right kind of wood,” he said, lowering the camera and ambling toward me. “The next this little guy comes up shouting about getting what’s his, and now Parker’s on a stretcher? What gives?”
“When you find out, let me know.” I nodded to the ambulance. “Can you go with him? It doesn’t look life-threatening, and I’d like to wait here in case Mel comes back. Maybe I can make sure nothing else goes wonky.”
A man was dead, the bride was out of pocket, and the groom had been shot.
I didn’t love my odds.
“Have you noticed nothing is ever easy for this bunch?” Larry groused, dropping the camera to hang from the neck strap as he moved toward the ambulance. “I thought all this do-gooding was supposed to stack up better karma.”
“I’m a little fuzzy on my eastern religion, and never seem to have time to read up on it.” I patted his arm. “Keep me posted? And thanks, Larry.”
“Of course.” He hustled up the hill, stopping to ask the medic where they were headed before he took off for the parking lot.
I turned to Deputy Reasoner, who was taking statements from the dozen or so eyewitnesses—enough of whom were brandishing cell phone cameras that Leroy was facing at least a year in prison, maybe more, depending on how badly Parker was hurt.
The deputy finished talking to Shelby and thanked her, and she scooted to the side to reveal Maisy, already staring daggers at me.
Dammit.
“Who wants to go next, ladies?” the deputy asked with a smile.
Maisy stepped backward. “I’ll wait.”
In that second, I lost the capacity to give one more damn what she thought. I couldn’t make her believe me anymore than I could convince Christian Louboutin to design for Payless. I hadn’t done anything wrong, and I had more important things to worry about. Since when did I have so little faith in my relationships with Mel and Parker that I thought Mel might believe such a load of crap anyway?
I didn’t. Without another glance Maisy’s way, I recounted what I’d seen and heard for the deputy and reeled off my phone number before I hauled my sore tailbone back to the lodge and scrubbed my hands like I was headed into surgery.
I paused outside the restroom, looking around for Celia when I spotted Bubba still snoring in the chair where we’d left him. Clock check: How was that only forty-five minutes ago? And where had she gotten off to? I’d taken off for the field assuming she was behind me.
Maybe she went to hide. Like normal people do when they hear gunfire.
I nodded to myself and hushed my inner Lois Lane, who was shouting questions about what Leroy had been so worked up about in the first place. Thieving bastard, he’d called Sammons.
While brandishing a Winchester auto.
The call that flipped Ella Jane at the sheriff’s office out this morning.
I studied the portrait of Sammons on the far wall, taking a few steps that way. “What are you into, dude?” I muttered.
“What he’s not would be a shorter list.” The words came from behind me, and I jumped, spinning on one heel.
Captain Panic from last night. Jinkerson, wasn’t that his name?
I let my eyes go wide, fixing a smile in place. “Sorry. Just thinking out loud. Reporting is less what I do and more who I am.”
“Sounded like quite a commotion out there.” He ran one index finger along the edge of a clawfooted cherry end table, his eyes dropping to trace the smear mark he left on the practically reflective shine.
“I’m surprised half the county didn’t turn out to see what was going on.” I kept my voice neutral. “In my experience, small towns are good breeding grounds for nosiness.”
“We’re used to conflict around here.” Jinkerson shrugged. “Mr. Sammons doesn’t have as many friends as he’d like everyone to think.”
My eyebrows shot into my hairline. I bit down on my lower lip, studying him. He wanted to talk. He knew what I did for a living and he’d started this conversation—then kept it going.
Augusta County might not be in our regular coverage area, but Dale Sammons sure was. Murder and God knows what else connected to such a powerful guy was a hell of a headline. A hell of a headline nobody else knew about—for now.
But I needed to put a hold on lunch and make sure Mel didn’t hear about Parker from anyone but me.
Could I save the wedding and land the story?
“Where’s a brilliant Swedish scientist when you need one?” I mumbled.
“Huh?” Jinkerson raised his head, his finger stopping near the table’s corner.
I waved a hand. “Cloning joke. I could use another me today.”
“Ah.” His eyes crinkled at the corners with a smile. “I could use another life. They have a scientist for that?”
The words were almost too soft to hear, and I stepped toward him. “How can I help, Mr. Jinkerson?”
He opened his mouth, but before his answer made it out, a vaguely familiar baritone bellowed, “What the hell do you mean they took him to the hospital?”
11.
Family matters
I slapped my hands into the sides of my thighs, blowing my breath out in a whoosh and shooting Jinkerson a pleading look. “Thirty seconds?”
He gave a curt nod and I scurried to the porch, almost falling over my feet when I saw Maisy holding court with Parker’s parents and Tony and Ashton Okerson, who must’ve arrived after all the ballyhoo.
Fantastic. Parker’s dad’s hear
t wasn’t any stronger than Bob’s, and Tony Okerson, retired football god to the masses, was the brother Parker’d never had. Thanks to the church of the internet, he was also newly ordained and officiating the ceremony.
Mr. Parker was pale, his wife holding a hand under his elbow and looking on with fear plain in her eyes. Tony looked pissed.
“It looked like he was sh—” Maisy didn’t even try for sympathetic. I swallowed my temper and resisted the urge to kick her down the steps, rushing forward and cutting off her words with a too-bright “Hey, y’all!” instead.
“Nicey!” Ashton jogged up the steps and yanked me into a bone-crushing hug. “What’s happened to Grant?”
By the time Ashton let me have a breath, the other three had dismissed Maisy and crowded around me, earning me an eat-shit-and-die look before she flounced away.
“Everyone calm down. He’s going to be fine.” I fished my phone out as I talked, checking my texts. Nothing from Larry.
How is he? I tapped.
Stowing it back in my pocket, I pasted a smile in place, laying a hand on Mr. Parker’s arm. “He was cracking jokes when they left. He’ll be back before you know it.”
“What the hell happened?” Tony asked. “Did he fall off one of Dale’s horses?”
I bit my lip. Before I could decide how to put it delicately, my phone buzzed.
I reached for it, holding up one finger.
Pretty deep gash, nicked a big vein, but it grazed him. No hole. No surgery. Stitches and antibiotics for a week. Doc is numbing him up now.
I blew out a breath I wasn’t aware I’d been holding as I read, raising my eyes to the group of folks who were begging silently for some information.
I waved the phone. “See? Parker’s fine. Larry’s there with him. Says they’ll have him stitched up and back to us in no time.”
“Stitches?” Mrs. Parker’s brow furrowed.
“We have had quite the newsworthy weekend out here,” I said. “Bad luck on top of bad luck. There was a situation this morning where someone threatened Mr. Sammons with a gun. Parker jumped in the middle.”
Tony caught a sharp breath. “Jesus, he got shot?”
I shook my head. “Larry said grazed. It’s not nearly as bad as it could’ve been.”
“Larry? Isn’t that the photographer from the newspaper?” Mr. Parker pulled his wife close. “Why isn’t Melanie with him?”
“She’s at the airport waiting for her folks,” I said, flashing my most reassuring smile. “She doesn’t know yet. But I promise, he’s going to be fine.”
“I should go to him.” Mrs. Parker shot a worried glance at her husband, who was breathing like he’d been for a run.
“Larry said they’re almost done,” I said. “You might not even get there before they release him, and it looks like you have your hands plenty full here.”
She pinched her lips together and nodded, leading Mr. Parker to the rocking chairs on the end of the porch before she asked me where to get a glass of water and disappeared into the building.
“Someone should call Mel,” Ashton said, laying a hand on my arm. “If it were Tony, I’d want to know.”
I sighed. I couldn’t keep Mel totally in her happy bubble, much as I’d like to. But what could she do from the airport, except worry herself sick?
“I don’t see any sense in scaring her when she’s so far away. I’m hoping she’ll be back soon and I can break it to her in person, when she can get to him quickly.” Ashton nodded and I bent my head to catch her gaze. “It’s wonderful to see you. How’ve you been?”
She tried for a smile and got halfway there. “I’m here. I get up and get dressed every day. I dote on my girls and try my damnedest to avoid letting them out of my sight. I think it’s starting to annoy them, but I can’t make myself back off.”
Sadness flashed in Tony’s famous blue eyes, so like his son’s, and he put one hand on Ashton’s shoulder. She covered it with hers and relaxed into the solid wall of his chest. I smiled in spite of the tragedy that still roiled around them a year after they’d lost their son, my eyes locked on their hands.
That.
That right there was what I wanted most for Parker and Mel. Tony and Ashton had been together forever, been to Hell and partway back in the last year, and whatever else they were dealing with separately, anyone who knew a damn thing about human nature could tell they were solid. Connected. Drawing strength from each other. Still so much in love.
Something I’d always dismissed as storybook unrealistic. Possible, because I could feel it, just being near them.
And I wanted it too. My mom had spent my whole life preaching that I didn’t need a man to take care of me. She was right. Moreover, I didn’t want a man to take care of me. Nor one who expected me to do as I was told. I wanted a partner who would be there for me just like I was there for him.
That’s what marriage should be.
It’s how I felt with Joey more often than not these days, but the abyss of uncertainty beyond the edge of that cliff kept me from the final leap.
My psychologist friend Emily would have plenty to say about commitment issues and paternal abandonment, but I shook off the thought. I could ponder my love life when there weren’t a dozen crises vying for my attention.
I clapped my hands together. “Lunch has obviously been postponed. Though I need to talk to the staff about that.”
The staff.
Jinkerson.
I swallowed a “dammit” and sighed. “Do you mind me putting you to work before you actually make it in the door?”
“Not even a little.” Ashton’s whole face brightened, and Tony nodded a thank-you over her head. He’d told me once things were better when she was busy.
“You’re a lifesaver. Right through there,” I turned and pointed, “you’ll find the kitchen. I need them to push lunch back so our bride and her folks will be here and we can let the groom get patched up and returned from the ER. It shouldn’t be a big issue, because the whole place is closed for the event until noon tomorrow.”
“What time do you want?” she asked, already stepping toward the door.
I pulled out my phone and glanced at the clock. “Two thirty should do it.”
“Got it.” She strode off.
“Thanks,” Tony said, putting an arm around me. His Super Bowl rings flashed in the sunlight, and I caught a breath, trying not to freak out too much that Tony Okerson was hugging me. He wasn’t famous when he was with Parker. He was just Tony.
“So very happy to be able to do anything for her,” I said. “For either of you. I think about y’all a lot.”
“You know if you ever need anything…I’m right here. I have a bit of influence left in some circles.” He winked and stepped toward Grant’s folks, who both had a bit more color. “Nichelle is up to her eyeballs, and we ought to let her get back to working her wedding magic. It sounds like Dale is tied up for a while, but I’ve been here a few times. What do you say I show you around the place?”
“Just stay out of the fields.” I shot him a grateful smile and spun back for the door with “I’m so sorry about that” already rolling off my tongue.
The words echoed through the room, Bubba’s heavy snoring the only answer.
Jinkerson was gone.
I tried his office. Locked.
Rapped on the door.
Silence.
Damn.
Before I got a bead on where to look next, my phone went off again. I fished it out.
Melanie.
“Hey, Mel.” I forced brightness into my voice, smiling through the stress because I knew from too much experience it was an easy way to sound happier than you were. “How’s the airport?”
“About fifteen minutes behind me, thank God.” She sighed. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I know how much work you’ve put into this day, Nichelle.”
“Don’t think twice about it. Lunch has been pushed, and we’ll just push everything else right out along behind it. A timelin
e adjustment is the least of my worries.” I stepped through to the back deck, my eyes scanning the field and barns for Jinkerson’s gray button-down. No dice.
“Nichelle?” Mel’s voice pulled my attention from a couple of squad cars that still sat at the top of the long hill.
“Sorry. Thinking about nine million things,” I said. “What did you ask me?”
“Can you have Grant give me a call? He’s not answering his cell and I need to ask him a couple of things.”
Oh, boy. I chewed my lip. “I’ll tell him you’re looking for him as soon as I see him.” Every word true. “How far out are you?”
“Probably another hour, if traffic is light,” she said.
Perfect. Maybe I could manage to keep at least some of the magic I wanted for them.
“Everything here is under control.” Okay, maybe that wasn’t all true, but it was an ardent wish, at any rate. “Ping me when you get close?”
“Sure thing, honey,” she said. “You win the wedding world series.”
I clicked off the call hoping she’d still think that by nightfall.
A twenty-minute search of the near grounds failed to produce Jinkerson.
Of course. Because my day was giving Murphy a whole new subchapter of law to write about.
“I would gladly shred my favorite Louboutins for one. Single. Break today.” I let my head drop back and stared at the sky. “Just one thing.”
The last word left my lips just as my phone buzzed in my pocket. I covered my eyes with one hand, pulling the phone out and peeking through my fingers at the screen. What now?
Ah. My face split into a smile, my hand dropping to my side as I clicked open Larry’s message.
The thing that hadn’t gone completely to Hell today: Parker was all sewn up and they were just up the road.
I rolled my eyes heavenward. “Point taken. Thanks.”
When Larry’s Explorer rolled across the gravel, slowing into a parking spot a few feet from the steps, I bolted for the passenger door, stepping to one side when Parker swung it open.
He stood, moving a little slowly, but looking not much worse for wear except for the sling decorating his right arm.
“How you feeling, slugger?” I asked, turning back for the steps.
Lethal Lifestyles (A Headlines in High Heels Mystery Book 6) Page 8
