The Sheriff

by Angi Morgan

  “Not even if I’m the son of a murderer and never legally adopted by Joe?”

  She swallowed hard after realizing her jaw had dropped open, totally unable to believe his statement. He was the son of a murderer and never adopted? It was more than a little hard to believe. “Those exact possibilities never crossed my mind.”

  “Believe me, I thought Joe was delusional from the heart attack when he told me what he’d done.” The hurt he experienced was easy to see. His entire body slumped as he sat in the chair.

  Andrea wanted to pull him into her arms and hold on as tight as he’d let her. She couldn’t immediately call her dad. He’d want to know why, and if he hadn’t begun the background check already, he would as soon as they hung up. “I hate to ask, Pete, but I’ll need details to convince my father. Have you talked about this with Joe?”

  “We’ve managed to avoid the conversation for six weeks.”

  “I don’t think I could have waited. I’m too impatient and would want answers.”

  “Yeah, well. I didn’t wait. My job does have some advantages. With a little research, I could put the facts together. I just don’t know why my dad doesn’t think it’s a big deal. It could ruin everything he’s worked for his entire life.”

  “You’re talking about the illegal adoption? Maybe there were extenuating circumstances. I’m sure he’d be forgiven.”

  Elbows on the table, Pete blocked showing his emotions to her by resting his head on his hands. There were very few times when she felt completely lost. This was one of them. Did he need comforting or someone to vent to?

  He looked up, and his eyes sparkled with near tears. And she knew...no matter what he needed, she wanted to comfort him. She also knew exactly why it all mattered...she was falling in love with the whole man. Not just his dimples.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Stupid. He’d blurted out his dad’s well-kept secret. Just spilled his guts to a woman he hadn’t known a week. The daughter of a man who could dig into his past and destroy everything he knew. And everything his father had sacrificed for his entire life.

  “Are you okay, Pete?” Andrea asked.

  Yeah, he was okay. He wanted to be angry at his dad. He was angry. Then he felt guilty. That had been the cycle for the past six weeks. How could he blame the man who’d raised him with no obligation to do so? It hurt...the betrayal. Pete hadn’t realized how much.

  “I’m not sure I can forgive him. He’s lied to me for over twenty-five years. Upholding the law has been his entire life. He made it my entire life. And yet everything’s been a lie.”

  “Not the way he feels about you.” Her hand rubbed his shoulder, trying to comfort him. “Anyone who meets the two of you can tell how much he cares.”

  “I don’t want to be the reason he loses everything. Can you call Commander Allen?”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea to bring the situation to his attention. Maybe he’s not digging into your past at all. He hasn’t removed you from the task force, which would happen if he’d discovered your identity doesn’t exist. Where did Joe get your birth certificate? Things like that?”

  “I don’t have one. That’s what started this whole mess. County Administration entered my interim-sheriff status into the system and notified me they didn’t have a copy of my Social Security card or birth certificate. Dad admitted that he twisted some arms to get me hired back before the updated system was installed. He also said my Social Security number is a fake. He bought it before I started school, so I had no idea.”

  Andrea’s jaw dropped again. Sort of the way his had done when he’d found out.

  She quickly recovered. “That seems...”

  “Very illegal, as in he’s bound to do jail time.” Thus his dilemma. Having a government agency dig into his past would expose his father no matter what good intentions he had long ago.

  “No wonder you’re worried for him. He must have had a good reason to go to such lengths.”

  “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t asked.”

  “You have to be the least curious man I’ve ever met.” She left the table to microwave her breakfast. “Obviously, you’re going to ask him, right? I mean, you need to hear the entire story. Want me to heat up your plate?”

  No longer hungry, he shook his head. If he didn’t know how smart Andrea Allen was, he’d wonder about her stream-of-consciousness conversation. All in all, he liked it. More often than he’d admit out loud, he silently chuckled at how her mind worked and made him stay on his toes.

  Every time he turned around he was amazed by how casual and accepting she was of their situation. Telling her he was the son of a murderer stopped her as long as it took to hiccup. Then she was asking to warm his breakfast.

  Damn, the woman made him want more. More of her. More of life. Just...more. Until he’d met her, it had never crossed his mind. Now that it was out of his reach, he ached for a chance.

  She was back at the table, silently eating and occasionally looking at him. He could tell she was dying to ask more questions. He didn’t know if he was ready to answer.

  “Do I smell bacon?” his dad asked as soon as the front door opened.

  “In here, Dad.”

  He barreled around the corner. “Good, you’re still awake.” He looked at the table, grabbed a slice of bacon from Pete’s plate and nodded toward Andrea. “I can see by the look on his face that you asked him. About dang time. You tell her?” he asked his son.

  Pete nodded, and Andrea sipped the last of her coffee. He wondered how long her silence would last before she’d shoot a list of questions for his father.

  “Good,” his dad continued, twirling the chair around to sit. “We need to get this out in the open, and you need to stop trying to protect me.”

  “Outside.” Pete liked Andrea, but this was private. He needed the reason before he shared it with anyone—if he ever shared it.

  “You don’t want her to know why?”

  “I was just telling Pete that I’m really tired. You guys talk. I’m plugging in my earphones, turning on some music.” She lifted the tablet and forced a yawn. “I’ll be out before you can say right ascension.” The blank look on his dad’s face must have encouraged her to explain. “It’s an astronomer’s term that... Sorry, never mind me. I’m heading to bed.”

  Andrea backed out of the room. Her bedroom door clicked shut softly, and he was alone with his dad. Biological or adopted, legal or not—Joe Morrison would always be his dad. He’d already forgiven him.

  “I shouldn’t be surprised at not being able to follow her talk too much. Andrea tried to tell me what she was looking at through the telescope the first time I picked her up. Couldn’t make hide nor hair of it. She let me take a peek, though. It was almost as pretty as her.” His dad poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot that rarely turned off.

  “She’s definitely a smart woman.” Pete realized what he’d said and tried to ignore his dad’s inquisitive raised eyebrow. “Yeah, you meant the picture in the telescope. I got it. But she is smart and gives good advice.”

  “Like...”

  “Like how I should have asked you about my adoption as soon as you were out of the hospital. I can’t believe that the man who preached at me about doing what was right my entire life had been breaking the law the entire time.”

  Joe leaned on the counter, just as Pete had earlier, talking to Andrea. He held his coffee cup the same way as his dad.

  “The first four months you were here, I never had to ask for a babysitter when I went to work. The church organized it. You know, people say we look alike. It was easy for everyone to believe you were my grand-nephew. It was also easy for them to look the other way about certain things.”

  “Seriously, Dad, you risked everything. Why did you do it?”

  “The why part is an easy answer. You. I did it for you.”

  “I need a little more than that, Dad.”

  “It was the right thing to do, son. And I’d do it again.”

/>   Joe sat at the table, taking Andrea’s place. The tanned skin around his eyes crinkled with his smile. “When you said you knew who your father was, I’m assuming you figured it out after I said I arrested him.”

  “I figured it had to be someone outside Presidio County about the time I came to live with you. You only arrested three people. Two were transferred to San Antonio and one ended up in Huntsville State Prison. Philip Stanley sat on death row for eleven years. Just after my fourteenth birthday you took a trip to see him, didn’t you? Did you go for the execution?”

  “That’s right.” He sipped from the cup. “Sad day. He’d robbed a liquor store in El Paso. Shot and killed the attendant.”

  “The report said you talked him into releasing hostages at a house south of here.”

  “A family of four. They moved not too long after that. I think their five-year-old son made more of an impact on Phil than I did trying to get him to let them go. Something the kid did made him want you to grow up in a home and be happy. He loved you in his own way. He let the people go when I gave my word I’d find your maternal grandparents. His were already gone. I tried. Believe me. I verified straight off that your mother was deceased. It took nine months to discover that her parents had passed on before you were born.”

  “And I lived with you for that time? Why didn’t you turn me over to foster care?”

  “Gave my word I wouldn’t. He was scared you’d turn out like him and made me promise no foster homes.” He cleared his throat and leaned back in the chair. “I’d already told everyone you were my nephew. Hell, Sheriff Grimshaw is the one who encouraged me to give my word at the house. He’s the one who helped me find information on your family.”

  “So Uncle Russ knew and even helped you.”

  “Yeah. He vouched for me and thought of you as part of his family, too. We convinced ourselves we were doing the right thing. Two old bachelors taking on a kid who we were determined would not end up like his old man. We thought about the foster program, but after you’d been here that long, they wouldn’t have given you to me.”

  “How’d you enroll me in school? Didn’t I need records?”

  “We actually used his wife’s Social Security number for school. It’s not so hard to enroll as long as you had shot records. Everyone around here knew your story by then. No one pressed us. Russ got the county to hire you. I winked a couple of times to make people forget your paperwork was incomplete.”

  “You know you can go to jail.”

  “Son, no one cares. You’re a good man. This won’t make any difference in you being sheriff.”

  “Dad, Andrea’s father made me a part of his task force. He’s probably got people vetting me right now. That means a background check. They’ll find the falsified information. Believe me, the government cares.”

  “I don’t see why it should matter now. We can get everything straightened out, maybe legally change your name. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “Dammit, Dad. Don’t sit there and act like this isn’t a game changer.” He would have been yelling. If there wasn’t a guest in the house, he probably would have been ranting a little at how nonchalantly his dad was accepting their secret was out.

  Yes, it was their secret now. People would assume Pete had known about his adoption circumstances. As close as he was to Joe, no one would believe otherwise.

  His dad seemed remarkably calm when he turned to him with no smile, just a gleam in his eyes. He looked free of a huge burden. “Son, I know the gravity of the situation. I’m accepting full responsibility. If the world finds out, then the world finds out.”

  “They don’t have to find out. I can resign, stop Commander Allen from moving forward with the vetting process.”

  “No way. Absolutely not.”

  “Dad, what’s impossible is to ignore this ticking time bomb. No ifs, ands or buts. It’s going off. Only a question of when.”

  “I disagree. There’s—”

  “Excuse me.” Andrea dashed into the room. One ear pod dangling, one still in position, tablet in hand, looking as bright as sunshine. “I know you two need to talk, but this... It just can’t wait. I’m so sorry for interrupting. But can I? Interrupt, I mean?”

  “Sure,” his father said. “Have a seat.”

  Pete would have rather finished their conversation, devising a game plan. Whatever she’d found, Andrea seemed about to burst with excitement. She probably couldn’t wait.

  “Oh, I can’t sit, thanks. This is... Well, you have to read it for yourself, but I think Sharon was working with those men. Or at least it seems that way to me. Do you want to call the rest of the task force? Maybe get their take on it?”

  “You might want to show us what you’re talking about first.” Pete tried to slow her down.

  “Oh, I was doing it again. My apologies.” Standing between him and his father, she set the tablet on the table and swiped the screen. “An email popped up addressed to Sharon from an unknown sender.”

  She touched the screen a second time, bringing up the email program.

  We’ll pay $500 if you get her on her own. Let us know when and where. Don’t cross us, Sharon. You know what kind of trouble you’ll be in if things go wrong.

  “So what do you think?” she asked.

  “This could mean anything,” he answered. “Are there more emails?”

  “A couple. She sent the information about me taking her place on Friday night at the Viewing Area, right down to the license tag on her car.”

  “Then you were set up.”

  “How did you find the emails?” his dad asked.

  Andrea leaned on his shoulder. The movement was so casual he wasn’t certain she knew she was there. Nice, yet very telling when his dad raised an eyebrow and the corner of his mouth in a half smile.

  “This is a university-issued tablet. I’ve been utilizing it, inputting my data and notes. Those creeps stole my music last week, so I thought I’d listen from my cloud. I haven’t been on the internet, since Dad asked me not to. But when I went to sign in, the device automatically logged in as Sharon. She must have been the last user and forgotten to log out.” She shook his shoulders with her excitement.

  Pete scrolled through some of the other messages. “Why wasn’t this turned over to Commander Allen’s team? They’re better equipped to trace where the message came from. They collected her laptop and cell from the car fire—or at least what was left of it.”

  “I guess no one thought about the tablet. The University of Texas owns it and all the students use it.”

  “I’ll drive the tablet over to Cord’s place.”

  “Not so fast, please,” Andrea said, trying unsuccessfully to snatch it from his grasp. They both held it inches above the tabletop.

  The look on her face sort of shouted that she wanted to use the clue herself. “No way, Andrea. We’ve got to get this to Cord’s team. I’m not putting you in danger again.”

  “We should check with the DEA agent at the task force meeting. Maybe she knows how to trace the sender or who to contact about it.”

  Pete stood, grabbing her shoulders securely enough to get her attention. “We are not tracking down whoever sent this email.”

  “But they might have Sharon.”

  “I agree. But it’s not my job.” He’d guessed why she’d stayed at the observatory just after her father left. He’d come right out and accused them of using her to draw Logan’s murderers into the open. But no one else had confirmed it. If they didn’t give him a direct order, he could play along and focus on his assignment.

  “You’re kidding. Why are you on the task force, then?”

  “To babysit.”

  His decision not to search for her friend wasn’t the only contribution to her look of dissatisfaction. She was disappointed in him. And he could live with that. As long as it kept her safe.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Studying the chessboards along the edge of his study was comforting. It took his mind off other
problems and somehow helped him eventually resolve those problems. Then his eyes landed on Patrice.

  Once again, she sat on the edge of her chair, sipping her wine, ready for his instructions. She’d behaved well during their last encounter, following his instructions to the letter. As a result, she was conducting herself with cautious obedience.

  The delivery was scheduled to take place in two days’ time. The details were complete, with the exception of Andrea Allen in his possession. The risks were much higher without her as a pawn. He kept reworking the board, wanting a different outcome.

  The only way to guarantee victory was his original plan. Throw another distraction into the laps of the Border Protection officers and they’d weaken. If they were searching for their commander’s daughter, there would be fewer officers searching for his shipment.

  Yes, his tactics might need to change, but the fundamental overall strategy was sound and needed to stay in play. Therefore, it was essential to capture his opponent’s queen.

  “Do you still have the college girl?”

  Patrice looked up quickly, setting her wine on his glass table. “Yes, of course. You said to ship her south with the guns and let the men split the money when they sold her. Blondes bring a good price.”

  “Good. Good.” He studied his third game board, anticipating a Steinitz strategy.

  “There’s one more thing, Mr. Rook. Our mutual friends would like you to oversee the transfer yourself.”

  “Certainly. Patrice, have I ever told you about Wilhelm Steinitz? He developed several rules of chess. The first states that the right to attack belongs to the person with the positional advantage. Since I am in the superior position of knowing what lies ahead, I believe I have an obligation to attack or lead. If I fail to attack, I deserve for the advantage to evaporate.”

  “I think I know what you’re saying.” Her look of utter confusion confirmed she did not.

  “Steinitz thought the attack should always be made on your opponent’s weakest square. Do you know what that is for the men trying to find us?”