by Tessa Layne
“No.” Her eyes glittered with unshed tears. “Why are you assuming the worst?”
“Maybe it’s because your mugshot is plastered all over the county with the words ‘guilty’ and ‘criminal’. You tell me. What the hell was it?”
She glowered at him. “There was a sweep. Hard drugs were found in my purse. But I didn’t put them there. I’ve never used. Not once. Not the hard stuff,” she amended. “Pot a few times before I got pregnant, but nothing since.”
“That’s what they all say,” he snarled. God, she was just like Colton. What a sucker.
A tear oozed from the corner of her eye and slid down her cheek. He would not soften. Could not. “Don’t do this, Travis. Please.” He barely recognized her voice through the tears. “I’ve worked hard to straighten out my life. I haven’t been anything but honest with you.”
“Except for this,” he snapped, gesturing to the mailer. “I broke all my rules for you. Every. Damned. One. How could you not tell me?”
“I should have told you,” she shot back angrily. “But I was afraid if anyone knew, that something like this,” she shook the mailer, “would happen and hurt your campaign. I didn’t want to bring you down.” She brushed at her eyes.
“How can you say you love me and keep secrets?”
“You keep secrets too,” she raised her voice.
“That’s different.” No one needed to know what really happened between him and Colton. He’d bear that burden alone.
She crosses her arms. “How so?”
“I shared my deepest secrets with you. Told you about my team. And this is how you repay me?” He might be deflecting, but he didn’t care. She’d wormed her way past his defenses. He’d let her see his soft underbelly, and then she’d stabbed him where he was most vulnerable. He couldn’t forgive that.
“This isn’t about repayment,” she countered, voice rising. “It was never a transaction. I did what I felt I had to do to feed and care for my son.”
“So you’re saying the only reason you took the job was for the money?” Pain knifed through his chest.
She shook her head, eyes dull. “You don’t get it, do you?” Her voice caught. “I thought you had more faith in me than this. More faith in us.” She narrowed her eyes, a muscle in her jaw ticking. “I see I was mistaken. Well you can take my resignation on the spot, Chief Kincaid. And don’t bother paying me the rest of my salary.” She started to rip the mailer. “In fact, I will bring you a check tomorrow for all of it, minus Dax’s school things and the clothes I bought. I will pay you back for those out of my tip money. Consider it a campaign donation.”
She tossed the pieces of the mailer to the ground and spun away.
The burning in his chest grew as he watched her disappear behind the food truck, shoulders slumped. He made the walk back to the police station in record time. “Weston,” he roared as soon as the door had shut behind him. “Weston.”
Weston came around the corner, another mailer in hand, jaw set. “You know you’re well and truly fucked.”
“Yep.” All that time, all that money, gone in a mailer. Judging from the size alone, one that cost significantly more than fifteen grand.
“Did you talk to Elaine?”
He nodded curtly.
“Did you tell her we’ll do what we can to shield her from the fallout?”
Travis stilled, a finger of guilt needling him.
Weston groaned. “Jesus. Don’t tell me you were an asshat.”
“She lied to me.”
“By keeping deeply personal information personal?”
“We’re LIVING together, for fucks sake. She should have told me.” He had to hold onto his anger. It was all he had left, now. He was right, dammit.
“It’s not exactly the kind of embarrassing information you volunteer to someone you’re crazy about. To someone you’re afraid might judge you.” Weston folded his arms. “You could have vetted her.” His voice became hard. Clipped. “Are you pissed at her or yourself?”
Travis scowled at the wall.
“Could you or could you not have run a background check on her?” Weston asked harshly, raising his voice.
“Not without her consent and you know it,” he bit out.
“You know there are other ways.”
“Yes, and I also said I’d never use them.”
Weston got in his face, eyes blazing. “You realize that Lawson did? To get at you? That guy’s a sick sonofabitch. You want to be pissed at someone? Be pissed at him. He’s not only ruined your campaign, he’s ruined her life.”
Weston turned and paced the length of the hall, before stalking back and jabbing him in the chest. “Did you think about that even once in your righteous indignation?”
He opened his mouth but Weston held up a hand. “Save me your sob story. I’ve known you for years, man. I know what pushes your buttons and you need to get the fuck over yourself. What kind of man are you that you’re in here sucking your thumb while you’re letting a single mom with not much safety net, and who you love, spin in the wind?”
There was that finger of guilt again, poking at him. “But I broke the rules for her.”
“Fuck your goddamned rules, Kincaid,” Weston shouted, mouth tight. “Haven’t you learned anything from seeing Dr. Munger? Your rigid rules are a fucked-up coping mechanism that are destroying you and any opportunity you have at happiness.”
“TRAVIS KINCAID,” roared Dottie from the other end of the hall.
He couldn’t win today. Why had Jeanine let her in?
“What on God’s good green earth did you do to that poor woman? She’s beside herself.”
Travis snatched the flyer from Weston and handed it over. Maybe now she’d climb down off her high horse. “Maybe you’ve seen this.”
Dottie’s eyes widened then narrowed as she shifted her gaze to him. “Tell me you were gentle with her.” She raked her gaze over him with a mother’s ferocity. The finger of guilt turned into a fist. How was it she could reduce him to about twelve-years old with a scathing glance?
She crossed her arms, mouth pinched into a line. “I see you haven’t learned a damned thing, have you?”
His chest burst into flame, crawling up his neck.
“You’ve judged that sweet thing by the same harsh standards you judged your brother, Colton. I always disagreed with you kicking him out of the house when he was seventeen, but I wasn’t there when it happened and figured you’d ask for help from Teddy if you needed it.”
Why was she dredging up the past now? And in front of Weston?
Dottie barged ahead. “But you never did. And now it’s you all alone at that ranch. Your daddy would be rolling in his grave to see how you’ve let the Kincaid legacy dwindle to nothing. I had high hopes when Elaine finally moved in with you that you’d made a step in the right direction.”
He had to make her understand. She of all people should understand. “Do you know what she did Dottie? She was caught up in a drug sweep in one of the most notorious titty bars in Topeka.”
That would shock her into siding with him. She knew about Colton’s drug and alcohol problem in high school.
“I know that,” she railed. “How do you think she ended up here? I’ve worked with probation cases in the past, giving people second chances. Some worked out. Some not. Elaine was a dream come true. And yes, surprise, surprise – she was human and made mistakes. Mistakes she’s paid dearly for. She’s done everything right to get her life back on track. Now don’t ruin it for her.”
She ripped the flyer in two and shoved it back at him. “I should have stepped in years ago, and I regret that I didn’t. Someone shoulda told you to get off your high horse when it came to Colton. I know you were young and full of yourself, running off to those missions, doing your duty to your country.” She scowled. “But you had a duty here too. Everyone but you could see that boy was hurting, and all you did was come at him with crazy rules. So I’m gonna tell you what I shoulda said then.” She gave him a blistering gaze.
“You fix this Travis Kincaid. You fix it. And don’t come around until you do.” She spun on her heel and marched back down the hall.
CHAPTER 29
Dottie’s footsteps echoed through the hall. Weston stared at him grimly. “Why don’t you start with Lawson you dumbass? Did you ever look at the dossier I gave you?”
Motherfucker.
Shamefaced, Travis shook his head.
Weston pushed open his office door. “How the hell you became police chief when you’re so stubborn and hard-headed is beyond me.” A moment later he came back with a folder. “Open it.”
Travis shook his head. “Elaine first. I want to know everything.”
Weston eyed him critically. “Are you sure? I don’t want you using this shit against her.”
Weston might as well have kicked him in the balls for the pain that burst through him at his accusation. A tendril of fear curled through him. He wanted to know. Wanted to believe her. At the same time, confirmation that he’d been played would break him.
“Well? What’s it gonna be?”
He clenched his jaw so hard his molars squeaked.
Weston’s voice softened a fraction. “The truth will set you free, man. You’ll know for sure, and you can figure out how to move forward.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Fine, fine. Make the call.” Weston was right. If he knew definitively, he could deal with the fallout. He wanted to puke.
“Mac, I need a favor.” Weston’s voice bounced off the wall as he walked down the hall.
Travis walked into his office and sat down, tossing the folder back on his desk. He propped his head in his hands, trying to control his churning stomach. If Dottie and Weston were both right and he was wrong, that made him the biggest asshole outside of the US Navy. And if he’d been wrong about Elaine, did that mean he’d been wrong about Colton too? Dottie sure as hell thought so. Had he been too hard on his little brother? His stomach gave a growling answer to the question. A weight pressed down on him. He’d always looked out for his team. How could he have failed his brother? He’d let the rigor of his training spill over into his personal life, and it hadn’t mixed well with a seventeen-year-old trying to find his way. Fuck him.
Footsteps sounded at the door, and Weston’s polished boots came into view. “Check your phone.”
Travis raised his head. He hadn’t seen Weston’s face that taut since… he shuddered. Not for a very long time. “I really don’t wanna know what connections you have, do I?”
Weston shrugged, mouth a rigid line. “Probably not.”
Travis’s phone beeped. He pulled up the email from what he presumed was a dummy account. Elaine’s mug shot flashed on the screen and then a summary. He skimmed through the bullet points. A runaway at fourteen, juvenile detention, repeated failed attempts at fostering, a group home, underage drinking, pot possession. A baby at seventeen, likely father a known criminal five years her senior, who died in a prison gang riot when she was nineteen.
His stomach churned. Good riddance. No wonder she’d turned to cutting at some point. Guilt stabbed through him as everything he’d learned about dealing with self-harm came slamming back to him. Weston was right, what kind of a hack cop was he? He continued scrolling through the summary.
After Dax was born, a string of low wage jobs but no criminal activity – until the night she was arrested in a drug sweep at Naughty Nellie’s. According to the document, she’d submitted a request for a hearing to have her probation reduced. Hearing set for the day after tomorrow. He raked a hand through his hair. “I’ve really fucked this up, haven’t I? With Elaine?”
Weston frowned and leaned in the doorway. “Elaine’s a good woman, Travis. You know that. You have to fix this. This is all Lawson’s doing. You want someone to pay? Make it him. Elaine’s paid enough.”
He reached for the file and opened it. Lawson’s formal police chief photo smiled back at him. His hand twitched. God, he needed a heavy bag. But he wasn’t going to drive all the way home just to release the energy stuck inside him.
Everything Weston had hinted at was there, right on the page in black and white. And the farther down the page he read, the hotter he grew, blood pounding in his ears.
Lawson was shady. The kind of cop you heard rumors about but didn’t quite believe could be true. Or that they only happened in big cities like Chicago and New York. The man had questionable connections with drug dealers and prostitution rings, but no one could ever seem to pin anything on him. Twice, he was accused of assaulting a female suspect in holding, but nothing was ever proven.
He flicked a glance at Weston. “You knew this? And you’ve been sitting on it?”
Weston raised his hands. “I tried to tell you, but you were more concerned with doing things by the book. Honorable trait in a police chief.”
For all the good it did him. He glanced through the last page, eyes catching on the words Naughty Nellie’s. “Did you see this?” He quickly scanned the last paragraphs, heart racing. “Lawson was the arresting officer at Naughty Nellie’s the night Elaine was arrested.”
Weston’s eyebrows shot up. “Huh.”
“Did you know this?”
Weston shook his head. “Nah. There was enough on the first page to convince me the guy’s scum.”
Travis’s mind raced. He was missing something. And then the missing link dropped into place. The abject fear on Elaine’s face when he’d seen Lawson talking to her after the 4th of July parade. The look that had made him spontaneously decide to jump in the race for sheriff. He slammed a hand on his desk and stood. “Holy shit, Wes, Lawson knows her. He knows Elaine.”
“How do you know?”
“I just know,” he growled. “And I’m going to get to the bottom of this once and for all.” He tossed the folder on his chair and brushed past Weston.
“If you’re going to confront Lawson, be careful,” Weston called after him.
Adrenaline pumped through him, narrowing his focus. All he could see as he slipped into his vehicle was Elaine’s terrified face. The entire drive over to Marion he replayed every encounter with the man, honing his anger. He took the police station steps two at a time and smiled politely at the gray-haired front office lady just inside the door. “Lawson in?”
He walked silently down the hall, pausing just outside the open door. Lawson’s voice drifted out. He was on the phone with someone. A quick glance around the corner showed an office similar to his, with the desk facing sideways into the room. Lawson was behind it with his feet up on the desk, at an angle to the door.
Travis slipped into the office and silently shut the door, turning the lock. As Lawson turned, he ripped the phone out of the bastard’s hands and slammed it on the receiver.
“Whaa?”
Before Lawson could say more, he’d pulled the man out of his chair and shoved him against the wall. “Right now, you sonofabitch,” he bellowed. “This stops right now. Tell me how you know Elaine.”
Recognition bloomed on Lawson’s face, and he sneered. “So you finally figured out the bitch was playing you?”
Travis punched him in the gut. He’d start with the soft spots first.
Lawson wheezed and squirmed, but he had six inches on the guy and rage fueling him. Lawson was going nowhere. “You’ll pay for that, Kincaid,” he choked. “Once this gets out,” he gasped, “Your career is over.”
Travis punched him again. Harder. It felt entirely too good. “I don’t give a shit you asswipe. You’re scum. What did she ever do to you?”
Lawson’s eyes lit fanatically, full of hatred.
Of course. The locked door. “Wait. She turned you down didn’t she? You wanted a piece and she told you to get lost. So you tried–”
“She’s nothing but a whore,” Lawson spit.
Red hazed his vision and he came unleashed. This time, hitting higher. “Don’t.” A fist to the ribs and an accompanying crack. “You.” Another fist to the ribs. Upward, punctuating each word with a blow. “Ever. C
all. My. Future. Wife. A. Whore. Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?” He took aim and slammed his fist into Lawson’s nose with a sickening crunch.
Lawson gave a strangled cry and went limp, sliding down the wall and collapsing in a heap when Travis let go. He stood a moment, letting the shaking in his body dissipate, then flexed his hand and silently left the office closing the door quietly behind him.
Calm settled over Travis. All his years in the SEALs, he’d saved his fighting for the battlefield. But he’d learned an important lesson today. There was something deeply, viscerally satisfying about delivering cowboy justice to an asshole. He parked his vehicle back at the station and gave the roof a pat as he shut the door. Keeping his pace measured, almost leisurely, he climbed the stairs and pushed open the glass door. Acknowledging Jeanine with a wave, he didn’t stop until he reached Weston’s desk. “Congratulations, you just earned yourself a promotion.” He tossed his badge on the pile of papers scattered in front of him.
Weston swiveled around, eyes moving back and forth between his bruised knuckles and his face. “I should see the other guy, huh?”
He nodded once, not trusting his voice.
“What next?”
He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “I find Elaine and beg her to forgive me.”
“Prepare to grovel.”
“Yep.”
“Lots of groveling, Travis.”
He nodded again.
“Unprecedented groveling.”
“I get the picture,” he growled. Leaving Weston with a two-fingered salute, he hit the locker room for the last time. He hung his vest and stowed his weapon in the lock box. He pulled on his Wranglers and slipped into his boots, buttoned up his favorite flannel plaid and secured his belt buckle. He gave a last look around the bare room and tossed his uniform in the laundry.
He stopped at Jeanine’s desk. “I probably haven’t told you as much as I should’ve, what an asset you are to us. I’m sorry about that.”
Jeanine tilted her head giving him a funny look. “Aww you’re sweet, Travis. See you tomorrow for the party?”
The party. Weston had organized a watch party at the ranch. There would be no victory for him now. But it would be sad to waste Mike McAllister’s victory brew he’d created just for tomorrow night. “Yeah. See you tomorrow.”
