He reeked like a rich lawyer. His suit was tailored perfectly to his form. His salt and pepper gray hair was sheered close to his head. His tan was deep and golden and there was a diamond winking on his finger. All rolled together, the perception was “I have power, don’t mess with me.” Irritation spiked, stirring his cop ire.
“Sheriff Murphy, Cale Bishop.” Perfunctory introduction finished, she walked slowly back to her office, the need for gossip obvious in the turtle-like movement.
Mr. Bishop stepped forward. “Sheriff. “ He reached to shake Zach’s hand.
Zach registered a firm handshake from soft hands. “What can I do for you?”
“There is a rental car parked in the lot of the Lazy Ace on the edge of town.” Mr. Bishop eased into a chair in front of Zach’s desk, adjusting the crease of his slacks. “A friend of mine rented it and I’ve been trying to contact her. I’m concerned something bad has happened to her.”
He’d been trying to contact her? No messages on her cell phone for missed calls.
The man maintained a long stare, not offering any more information.
“This friend’s name would be?” Zach sat and stretched back in his chair, as casual as a gunslinger.
The man gave him a fake smile. “Well, now I would hope that the name would stay between you and me.”
This time Zach gave him the long stare.
The man didn’t so much as blink. “Do you know who I am?”
Zach knew damn well who the man was and didn’t give a rat’s backside. Let him stew for a minute, thinking he was lording one over on a slow, country sheriff.
The man’s smug expression grated against frustrated nerves, though. Zach tamped down the churning against his breastbone, and wondered when boys learned to play chicken. While this was a tame confrontation, it still had all the earmarks of that juvenile game.
Bishop opened his mouth, no doubt to rub Zach’s nose in how important Cale Bishop was in the universe. Zach beat him to the punch.
“Leia Shae is in the hospital. She asked me to contact you. Consider yourself contacted.” He rose to his feet. “If you give me a few minutes, I’ll bring her here to meet you.”
“What’s she doing in the hospital?” The alarmed tone was just a tad put on.
He gave the man an honest answer. “She was arrested for public intoxication last night. Turns out she was having a severe allergic reaction to some medication she took and she ended up in our hospital.”
“You arrested her?” Bishop rose from his chair, put his knuckles on Zach’s desk and leaned toward him.
Zach didn’t move, irritated by the man’s power play. “Yes. Once we got the results of her tests, we obviously put in motion the paperwork to drop the charges. I’d appreciate it if this could be kept quiet until you’re out of my town.”
Bishop smirked and straightened, fussing with his sleeves. “I can assure you I have no intention of letting anyone know she’s here. Let me make a phone call. I’m sure we can get her out of here with no one the wiser.”
Zach had a hundred questions pounding through his head. He shifted forward in his chair and focused on one. “How did you know she was here? How did you know to look here?”
“Our security force keeps pretty close tabs on her. You understand.” The man gave him a bland smile that raised his hackles.
“I’m not sure I do. Someone followed her?” Sounded more like chased her.
“Someone followed her when she left the party and lost her on the state highway on the west side of Denver. Only so many towns she could have gone to on this road. We’ve been checking them all.”
Zach shook his head. What a way to live, like a supernova in the eye of a telescope. No thanks.
Bishop sat again, precisely pulling his slacks as he sat. “Is there a private place I can make a call to cancel the search and get my media coordinator here for assistance?”
“I was hoping we could avoid the media.” It galled Zach to have to ask for that, but this was his town and his duty to protect it.
“That would be ideal.” Bishop’s smile struck Zach as a tad oily and manipulative, leaving his cop’s intuition clawing at him like rescuing a reluctant cat from a tree.
Zach stood and grabbed his keys. “I’ll get Leia. Use my office. Make your calls.”
Zach needed air. Irritated on behalf of Leia and not really understanding why, he walked out. He asked a deputy to keep an eye on Mr. Slick and went to his truck, calling the hospital to notify them he was coming for Leia before he got out of the parking lot.
The air was crisp for early May, threatening the buds on the trees. The day was dying to dusk and he wasn’t going to be able to have dinner with Carlee.
Dammit.
He hated when his sheriff activities self-destructed their normal routine. He flipped open his cell phone and called Aunt Fiona. Aunt Fiona, his father’s sister, had taken in the four brothers after the death of their parents in a small plane crash. Wyatt had been twelve, Zach ten, Ryder nine, and Beau barely seven. They’d had a rocky road at first, Fiona having lost her husband in the same crash. Zach had more than enough police experience to recognize how lucky they were she’d been willing to take them and the young boys hadn’t ended up in foster care.
“You have reached the charming, witty, infamous Fiona. Your wish is my command. Speak.” Her lilting voice made him smile.
“Hi, Aunt Fiona.”
“Ah, my favorite nephew sheriff.” Her throaty drawl was somewhere between Scarlet O’Hara and Marilyn Monroe. “Your progeny is in a snit.”
Zach sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “She’s going to be in even more of one. I’m tied up. She was right. I arrested Leia Shae. I can’t leave until she does.”
Fiona dropped all pretense of playfulness. “This is bad.”
“Tell me about it.”
“You know how big she is?”
“Yes, after I made the connection to who she was. I don’t live under a rock.”
“Is she as pretty as her pictures?”
“Fiona.” Zach drew out her name, trying to not snap. If anyone had experience with the press, it was bestselling cookbook author, Fiona Devlin.
“Just asking,” Fiona sighed.
Zach rubbed the bridge of his nose again, feeling the headache pound right between his eyes in sledge hammer vibrations. His stomach churned in counterpoint. “No. Actually at the moment she looks like hell.”
“Darling, you should call Ryder.”
Zach bristled. “I don’t need Ryder’s help.”
“I beg to differ. He handles my public relations stuff all the time. You need someone who can run interference. The press is going to eat this up like caviar on a cracker at a cocktail party.”
Zach had a simple palate and that turned his stomach just as much from the food analogy as what was about to occur. “As it happens, I’ve already met the judge and he’s agreed to drop the charges. She had an allergic reaction.”
Fiona huffed. “That’s not going to do it. Even after the fact, they’ll be camped at your doorstep wanting answers. What did you arrest her for?”
“Booked her for public intoxication because I didn’t have enough for a DUI. Her blood alcohol wasn’t high enough for any charges.” He shouldn’t be explaining all this to an outsider, but dammit he was frustrated.
“Oh, my. Not good.”
“I know, Fiona. Doesn’t matter what we do, we’re going to get fried.”
“Call Ryder, dear. I’ll tell Carlee she’s spending the night.”
Zach clenched his jaw, aware of bulldozer Fiona mowing him down, but recognized the voice of experience. “I’ll call Ryder, and I’ll call Carlee before she goes to bed. Make sure you check her homework and no time on the Internet.”
“Aye, Aye, Dad. Love you.” Fiona disconnected.
He needed a hefty dose of caffeine, or dinner, or both. He drove to the hospital with a slow deliberate pace, not to annoy Mr. Fancy Suit…well, not much anyway.
He called Ryder as Fiona had asked and got his voice mail.
He entered through the emergency room this time as it was closer to the back door where he intended to leave with Leia. He stopped at the vending machine and bought himself a Coke.
Further down the hall, Doc Jude ran into him as she exited an exam room. He caught her by the elbow. “I came to get your patient.”
“I know who she is. She told me.”
Zach snorted in exasperation. “Great. Keep it to yourself.”
She walked with him part way down the hall. “Understood. I’ve signed her paperwork. She can leave.”
Zach rubbed his stomach. “Great. Thanks Doc. Let the circus begin.”
She reached in her pocket and handed him a small pack of antacids. “Come and see me. We need to talk about your stomach and your eating habits.” She gave his Coke a raised brow.
“Don’t hassle me, Doc.”
“Green tea, Sheriff. Easier on the gut than gallons of coffee and soda.”
“Foo-foo drink.” He walked away from her, feeling like a thundercloud about to rain on a parade.
In Leia’s room, she sat in the bland beige chair by the window, her eyes closed looking like a wilted hot house flower. She wore a set of fuchsia hospital scrubs and clutched a bag to her chest. The bed had been stripped and cleared.
He walked to her side and waited for her to open her eyes. “You ready to go?”
She stared at him with veiled blue eyes. “I suppose.”
Her enthusiasm was overwhelming. She rose slowly, like an old grannie with arthritis in every joint. He reached to help her, the warmth of the bare skin at her elbow seeping into his sense.
“Where’s your coat?” Awareness hovered in the space between them.
“I didn’t have one.” She trembled at his side, with exhaustion or nerves, he wasn’t sure.
“We’ll take care of that then. “ One of his female deputies was sure to have something she could have. “I’m parked next to the Emergency Room entrance. I’ll pull my car up. We’re going out quickly and back in the employee entrance of the sheriff’s office. Fast and easy.”
“Understood.” She seemed to pull herself together then and moved with easy grace by his side. She didn’t ask him to let go of her arm, which was good because he probably wouldn’t have anyway.
“My manager?” she croaked.
“In my office.” She seemed to slump a bit, but rallied and continued on, breathing loudly through her mouth. He slowed to a crawl and tried to match her pace, but at this rate he’d be ninety by the time they got to the door. He snagged a wheelchair from the alcove at the intersection of the hallways.
“I don’t need that.” Her glare worked, even if the rest of her body didn’t.
“Yes, you do.” And just because he was feeling the prick of sexual attraction and whole lot of irritation from same, he tacked on, “I don’t have all day.”
He was sorry the moment he glimpsed the hurt that crossed her eyes. But this girl was tough. She buried it fast and looked away, pulling herself into a regal posture that would have put him in his place if he hadn’t seen her fingers trembling and her limbs sagging in relief into the wheelchair.
He rushed them through the hospital then, not stopping to talk to anyone and in a few short minutes had her in the front seat of his truck and was driving away.
She didn’t speak again, but coughed long and deep all the way to the department.
He put her in the back conference room and went for her manager.
Cale Bishop was seated on the corner of Zach’s desk, his arms crossed, a furious grimace on his face. Zach walked to his office and brushed around Cale Bishop. “She’s ready to leave.”
“Fine. I can’t imagine why that took so long.” The man stood and glanced at his watch.
“Mr. Bishop, this is a small town and a small county. You’re lucky I was able to arrange with the judge to drop the charges tonight. Besides that, she belongs in bed. She’s still very sick.”
“I believe I know how to take care of Leia. I’ve been doing it for years.”
The snobby tone pushed him to the edge, but he snapped his mouth shut. Zach lifted the manila envelope with Leia’s possessions. “Follow me.”
Leia stood near the room’s only window, looking out at the darkening night. She’d brushed her hair into a ragged ponytail, but her skin was grayish, her mouth a confused frown, and the devastated sadness in her eyes was killing him.
“Cale!” Leia rounded the table and flung herself into her manager’s arms.
“Now, now darlin’. It’s going to be okay.” He patted her back.
Zach gritted his teeth, not sure exactly whether it was the man’s tone or his hands on Leia that ratcheted up his tension. He slid the envelope with her possessions across the table toward her along with a slip to sign. She stepped away from Cale looking fragile and uncertain, but signed his sheet and handed it back. She gave him a look he couldn’t interpret. He stifled a sigh, needing to get away from this woman.
“I’ll find you a coat and then you can leave.” Zach backed out of the room and called his brother again. Voice Mail. Dammit. He was on his own.
Up front, Zach looked to see if there was a jacket or a sweater in the lost-and-found from the courthouse. There was. He snagged a black jacket, a couple sizes too big, but he couldn’t be choosy.
“Uh, Sheriff?”
“Yeah, Danny?” Danny Bodrie was Blanche’s relief and her exact opposite in personality. Nothing fazed the man, which would be a tremendous asset in this situation.
“There’s a news van out front, parked next to a limo.”
One swear word. That’s all he allowed himself.
Danny swiveled in his chair to face his boss. “What’s going on?”
Zach took a deep breath. “I arrested Leia Shae last night.”
Danny’s eyes bugged out. “Leia Shae, the rock star?”
How many Leia Shaes were there? “Yes.”
“She’s upstairs in the jail?” Danny was a big-framed man, so it was a bit disconcerting the puppy-dog look of love on his face. “Oh man, she’s the best. I’m a big fan.”
Great. Zach walked to the window and checked for himself. While he watched, a second news van showed up. His chest tightened and he rubbed his stomach.
“No, she’s not in the jail. She’s in the conference room in back. Tell everyone out on patrol that unless they need to bring in a suspect, to stay away from the building until further notice. Have Drake move a patrol car to block access to the limo once it’s parked by the back door. She’s being released. Turns out she was having an allergic reaction and we have nothing to hold her on.”
Danny’s eyebrows reached his shaggy hair. “It’s going to get bad, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is. Who else is here?”
“Drake is in the locker room and Kane’s still here. He’s in the squad room.”
It would have to do. Kane could hold down the fort while he had Mr. Bishop move his car to the back of the building and hustled Miss Celebrity out the back door.
By the time the vehicles were moved, there were six news vans in front and the steps of the sheriff’s office were packed with reporters. How they got into town from Denver so fast was beyond him.
Just as he was ready to walk them to the limo, another car showed up with Leia’s press manager. The woman had long black hair and a killer red suit to match her nails. They didn’t need her. There wasn’t going to be any talking, not on the steps, not anywhere in his town. If they wanted to have a press conference, they could damn well do it in Denver.
He walked them to the end of the hall. Leia hadn’t uttered a word since he’d dropped her possession in front of her.
The moment he opened the back door, the camera flashes nearly blinded him. The press was blocked from the limousine by a patrol car just as he’d planned, but it still didn’t keep the vultures far enough away for his peace of mind.
He strode to the limo doo
r, showing more confidence than he felt. Those steps felt like a mile, but were a mere four feet from the door. He turned back to the three people standing in the doorway. Cale and red lady looked like they did this every day and they probably did. Leia’s color had washed further away, though.
Cale helped the lawyer into the back of the limo, leaving Zach to help Leia. She reached the door and turned to look at him. Her emotion-filled eyes twisted his gut. They telegraphed too much and Zach wanted to shut his eyes so he didn’t have to see and be forced to act the white knight.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Then they were gone, leaving Zach in the middle of the fray.
CHAPTER TWO
Four Months Later
Leia Shae Daniels parked her rented, nondescript black Honda in the visitor parking slot in front of the Parson County Sheriff’s Office. She took the dead spearmint gum out of her mouth and squished it back into the wrapper and into the trash sack. She turned off her cell phone. She wiped her hands on her stonewashed jeans, pawed through her purse for her brush and redid her sable hair in a conservative pony tail, and straightened her ivory cable-knit sweater.
She stared at the glass front door, watching the reflection of the street in the glass, and stalled, remembering a tall, solid frame, dark hair and piercing blue eyes. Her stomach churned, dancing on the edge of puking. She could stuff another piece of gum in her mouth to keep her stomach settled, but she refused to talk to Sheriff Zach Murphy with a wad in her mouth like she was a teeny-bopper. She had to do this, wanted to do this, needed to do this.
But facing the man again was not the easy task she’d let herself believe it would be when she flew out of LAX and into Denver. Nor the pep talk she subscribed to while renting a car in Denver for the short hour drive north to the town square of Parson Corners, population twenty-six-hundred.
Pumpkins, Cowboys & Guitars Page 48
