Tom studied the picture for several long moments and shook his head. “He looks familiar. It’ll come to me.”
“Today’s robbery was more vicious. It’s escalating and I’m not sure what caused it.” Bret turned on the road to the reservoir.
“Unless we really pissed them off with the arrest of what was obviously their fencing source.” Tom pulled a small spiral notebook from his pocket and began thumbing through the pages. He paused over a particular entry.
Bret glanced at him. “Something?”
“Vandalism. Six weeks ago.”
“Remind me. Where?”
“Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church, by the junior high.” Tom flipped the page. “At first we included it with our robbery/vandalism streak, remember? But I had a long talk with Pastor Reid. He’d had a run in with a group of boys who were riding their dirt bikes through the field between the church and the junior high and had caused some damage to the church van.”
“And there wasn’t any damage to the church or anything missing.” Bret slowed as he rounded the first corner through Boulder Canyon. The road narrowed and a series of sharp curves made him slow the vehicle further.
Tom scanned the page. “Right. There were three boys involved, though. High school age. One of the boys had an aunt who attended the church and she paid for the damages to the van. There weren’t any charges pressed, so I forgot about it.”
“What were their names?”
Tom tapped his notebook with his finger. “Tobias Gordon was the kid whose aunt paid the charges. He moved here from California nine months ago. Pastor Reid thought one of the other ones was our Esteban. I questioned him, but he said he wasn’t involved. I suspected he was lying, but Edna Gordon paid the damages and it was a moot point. There was a red-headed kid the pastor didn’t know, too.”
Bret mulled over the information and wondered how it fit with the case. The two men lapsed into silence. When the car emerged from the canyon, he sped up. About a mile down the road, he slowed to turn into the trailer park. The Chissum Trailer Park was on the corner of the road to the campground and Reservoir Road. The park was a mile from actual water and five miles from the reservoir dam itself. Overall, the lots were filled with aging single-wide trailers, old cars, and debris. The last time he’d had occasion to take note, it had been a neat and well-cared for area.
“I heard the property changed hands.” Tom slipped his notebook back in his pocket, his attention focused on their surroundings.
Bret counted the slots and stopped in front of the fourth trailer on the left. He and Tom exited the vehicle. Car noises drifted to them from further down the narrow street and with school out for the day, several kids rode bikes and played chase through the park.
Bret walked to the front door and knocked. “Police!”
Tom stood behind him and watched the activity on the street.
No one answered.
He made several more attempts to rouse someone to answer the door with no success. “I’m going to look around. Maybe there’s a back entrance.”
“I’ll go ask the neighbors.” Tom crossed the street to the trailer across the road, stopping to talk to several of the kids on bikes.
Bret stepped down off the porch and walked down the side of the trailer to the back of the lot. There didn’t appear to be any other entrance and all the windows were closed up tight. He rounded the corner. Someone jumped from one of the windows mid-trailer and began to run.
“Stop!” Bret took off in pursuit, running down the side of the trailer. The teenage boy was several yards ahead of him. More nimble, the kid jumped a broken fence and raced for the tree line.
Determined to catch up, Bret put on some speed. He heard a noise and then a solid whack on the back of his knee made him trip, as if he’d been hit by a concrete baseball bat.
Pain screamed up his leg. His knee gave out and he tumbled, trying desperately to right himself.
Belatedly, he became aware of the presence of another person.
A sharp blow to the back of his head made the sky spin in a sickening direction. Pain exploded from his neck into his temples.
A shadow remained in his peripheral vision as he hit the ground. Then he passed out.
~~CHAPTER NINE~~
Bret woke with his head throbbing, his knuckles aching, and his knee flat out screaming. A vivid recollection of chasing Esteban and of being hit in the leg blended with falling and a blow to his head. His memory after that was hazy, quick flashes of the ambulance and emergency room, and of Meg’s big, worried eyes staring down at him.
With his eyes closed, he scoped out his surroundings. While he’d been out, they had evidently moved him to his room. The sheets were coarse against his naked backside. The pillow curled just right under his neck, but did little to comfort the aches and pains. Heavy wrapping cradled his knee in an ice pack. The chill from the ice made him pull the light cover closer to his body. He smelled the antiseptic cleaner, heard the clang of the hospital food trolley, and quiet voices murmuring in the hallway.
A scuff of a shoe right beside his bed made him tense. The impulse to open his eyes was born of instinct, not smarts. The light, even dulled with the pulled shades, made him groan. He twisted slightly to see who could be there, only relaxing his guard when he recognized Olivia.
She set aside her needlework when she heard his groan and took his hand gently in hers. “So, you’re awake. You gave us all a fright. Can I get you anything?”
He shook his head. Not able to help himself, he basked in the warmth of her hand, in the concern in her expression. “What are you doing here?” His question rasped from his throat like gravel was stuck there.
She lifted a large, white cup on his side tray and handed it to him. He took the cup, even though his hands were shaking.
“We agreed as a family that we weren’t going to leave you here alone until we were sure you were awake and on the mend. Meg’s in the waiting room catching a quick nap. Chad and Rick just left. Tom came during the night. Now I’ve promised to sit with you so you wouldn’t be alone.” She smiled, studying his face. “Your color looks better.”
Bemused, he sipped his drink again, his throat feeling better. Even his parents never sat with him when he took ill as a child. He was not quite sure what to say. A part of him was confounded, another touched, and another wanted to run screaming from the unfamiliar familial suggestion.
She took back the drink and set it on the tray. “You’ve been mostly out of it since they brought you in. Doc Garrison has already been here this morning. He assured us you’d be fine. Would you like us to call your parents?”
He stiffened. “No.” This time his voice worked. “My head hurts some and my knee is throbbing, but I’m okay. No need to worry them.”
“That’s what Tom said. Just thought I’d check.” She stood and pushed the button to call the nurse.
“What did you do that for?” He squirmed. The hospital gown bunched under his hip.
“Nurse told me to call when you woke up.” The nurse answered the page. Bret’s mood slid from bemused to sour. He hated hospitals. He’d had a particularly virulent flu in junior high and spent three weeks in the hospital, virtually at the mercy of whatever nurse cared for him. A similar feeling had assailed him after he’d been shot. He’d hated the confinement and it was no comfort or surprise that he now felt a burning need to get out of bed and go home.
The nurse entered the room, pulling a cart. She was a large woman with a friendly smile, hair the shade of chocolate, and bright purple scrubs. “Glad you’re awake. My name is Debbie. I’ll bet you’re ready for some pain medication, maybe a trip to the bathroom, and some breakfast.”
His cheeks heated.
Olivia stuffed her needlework back in a bag. “I’ll go down the hall and wake up Meg. We’ll be back in a few minutes.” She reached out and patted his arm.
He wanted to grab her and force her back to his side, an ally against this strange woman who planned to poke and
prod and embarrass him. But he realized how stupid and juvenile that was which was an embarrassment in itself. God, what was wrong with him? Had the blow to his head addled his brain? “I’ll see you in a few.”
Olivia hustled from the room and he resigned himself to several unpleasant minutes. He’d give anything if he could go home, wake up next to Meg, his nose in her fragrant hair, his hands on her warm body. Gritting his teeth, he turned to Debbie. “Let’s get this over with.”
Meg wasn’t really sleeping when Olivia entered the waiting room. She had honestly tried, but the sight of Bret lying on the table in the emergency room, his eyes closed, blood dried on his forehead, still made her nauseous. She’d always thought of Bret in terms of the man she wanted to love her. She never really considered him in terms of his job. If she convinced him to not give up on them as a couple, to stay with her and work it out, she would be a cop’s wife.
Her heart stalled. Even though Echo Falls was a small town, stuff happened. Cops got killed. Did she have the right stuff to be a cop’s wife or would she turn into a blubbering mess every time he went out the door?
Tears sprang up underneath her eyelids and she took a quick breath to stifle them. She smelled her grandmother’s gardenia perfume and knew she was near. Meg opened her eyes, preparing herself for the worst. Except her grandmother was smiling.
“He’s awake.”
She sat up and shifted her feet to the floor. Swaying, she put a hand out to steady herself. “Let’s go.”
“Wait. The nurse is with him. Give them a few minutes.” Her grandmother touched her arm. Warmth went up arm like a hot shower on a cold morning. Meg leaned back against the cushion and Olivia sat down next to her.
“He’s fine. A little befuddled, I think, from the concussion. But fine.”
She wished she hadn’t let Olivia talk her into sleeping. She wanted to be there when he woke up, needed to see his eyes, alive and direct, staring at her. “I love him,” she blurted.
Her grandmother smiled and took her hands. “I know, dear.”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure how he feels.”
“He loves you, too.”
She snorted, hysterics near. “What crystal ball are you looking in?”
Olivia turned in her seat and gave her a shake. “I’m looking at him when he looks at you.”
She wanted desperately to believe, and with the way he made love to her, believing in his love was quite tempting. But his words from their first conversation about sex burned into her, her promise branded on her brain.
You’ll try to change me, change the arrangement.
I promise I won’t.
God, she wanted to, but she also wanted Bret to understand he could trust her to respect his choices and to keep her promises. She felt hoisted on her own petard because she’d promised to understand his position all the while knowing she wanted something else from him.
“Everything happens for a reason. He’ll come around.”
“I wish I could believe you, but that is not what he says.”
“Quit listening to his mouth and start listening to his heart.”
She stared at her grandmother, puzzling the statement.
Meg started to reply, but Tom entered the room. His uniform was clean and pressed, but the circles under his eyes gave away his fatigue. “I hear he’s awake.”
“How did you find out so fast?” She struggled to her feet, accepting a swift hug from her brother.
He walked to the island and poured a cup of coffee from the pot there. “Hospital called. Chief’s here to talk with him, see if we can find out exactly what happened.”
She wanted to scream—I haven’t even seen him awake yet! She clamped her mouth shut on the proclamation, too vulnerable by her admission to her grandmother to go one step further and let her brother in on her feelings even though Tom had pretty much endorsed the idea.
Stepping around her grandmother, she made for the restroom, commenting to her brother on the way by. “Hurry up. The man needs to rest.”
Tom raised his eyebrows, but she ignored him and crossed the hall, the restroom door quietly shutting behind her.
A few minutes to get herself under control. That’s all she needed.
She used the closest stall, then washed her hands, finger combed her hair, washed her hands again, brushed her teeth with her finger, and washed her hands again. Straightening her pants and shirt, she wished she had time to go home and change, but like Tom’s pressed uniform, new clothes weren’t going to disguise her worry, her fears, her love. Anyway, maybe the time had come to quit hiding her feelings from him, admit she loved him, but respect his need for something less than that.
Could she pull that off when she wanted it all?
Now there was the question.
Bret took a big swallow of the apple juice the nurse left and looked at Chief Hudson. “The kid running for the woods was Esteban.”
“Who hit you?”
“I have no idea. Never heard him or saw him coming.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.” Hudson straddled the chair.
“He was wearing dark clothes. That’s all I got when I fell. Then I was out. Esteban was fast, though. Might not have caught him anyway.”
“How fast?”
“I am a pretty decent runner and sprinter.”
“I know. You beat the rest of us by lengths when we do our physical training.” The chief frowned.
“He outpaced me three steps to my one.” He ground his teeth. “Tom didn’t see anyone?”
“No. By the time he found you, there was no one in the area.”
“They did exactly the wrong thing if they want to stay low profile.” He flexed his shoulders and regretted it when tender muscles screamed.
“Yes, they did. Plus, we’ve got Esteban’s prints off the trailer window. We’ll be comparing them to the ones we lifted from Diego James’s house after the robbery there.”
“I hope they match.”
“Me, too. You work on getting better. You gave us all a scare, not to mention all the paperwork I’ve got to do for your injury.” Hudson rose, hat in hand.
“Sorry about that. Doesn’t hurt as bad as getting shot.”
The chief chuckled. “Great. Not sure what that says, but okay. We’ll do some leg work and see what we come up with.”
The door opened. Meg stood there with Olivia and Tom behind her. For the first time in his life, he forgot everyone else existed. She looked frazzled and worried, her shirt wrinkled from sleeping on the waiting room sofa and waiting for word, her blue eyes tired and worn. She held herself back like a filly at the starting gate, seemly unsure of her reception.
He should be bothered by his sudden need for her, he should be backing away, but all he wanted was her in his arms. He beckoned her. She launched herself across the room and into his arms. He absorbed the impact, even though she’d slowed to be careful, and pulled her against him.
Chief Hudson cleared his throat and looked to the doorway. Olivia grinned. Tom watched with unabashed interest.
Meg turned her head toward him, her lips meeting his. “Are you all right?”
“I am now.” He kissed her. Probably not smart given the audience, but he couldn’t help it. She was his everything. That thought pricked like a burr and should have made him run screaming in the opposite direction. Instead he pulled her closer and kissed her with a thoroughness that released the penned up feeling in his chest. The warmth of her settled him, erased all the vexation at being hurt and trapped in the hospital.
His mind argued, warned. He didn’t do relationships, remember? At the moment, though, he didn’t want to remember. He wanted to feel, to belong. Time would come later to pull back, reassess, and let her down easy. He hoped he had the strength. He wasn’t husband material, never could be. He kissed her again to banish the tight feeling in his chest at the emotions warring inside him.
“You had me worried to death,” she whispered in his ear.
&nbs
p; “I’m sorry. I’m all right, Megan mine.” He shifted to try to hold her closer, moved his knee wrong, and ended up groaning, making a liar out of him.
She pulled back, sliding away from him. He reached for her, desperate to maintain some contact.
Chief Hudson, Olivia, and Tom stood at the end of the bed watching. None of them looked inclined to give them privacy. The smirk on Tom’s face said it all. He had plans to grill Bret later.
His stomach shimmied and dived. The expectation of having honorable intentions toward the Applegate daughter expanded in the room until Bret couldn’t breathe.
Meg squeezed his hand and the feeling receded somewhat, but the anxiety about what he would say remained.
“You gave us a scare. When I first saw that blood, I thought you were dead.” Tom covered the quiver in his voice by dropping into the chair by the bed.
“My head’s too hard for that,” Bret assured him.
“How bad is the knee?” Tom asked.
Meg leaned toward him, waiting for an answer.
“Twisted. Not broken.”
“Good.” Tom rose from the chair. “I’m going to go catch some shut eye. I’ll be back later. Grandma, you want a ride home?”
Olivia had remained standing at the end of his bed, calmly watching all that transpired. “Yes, dear, that would be nice.”
“I’ll follow you out,” Chief Hudson said. Olivia walked to the other side of the bed and picked up the bag containing her fabric and needles. She stopped by his side. “You get some rest and I will visit tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Nonsense. I want to.” Olivia took Tom’s arm and the three left.
Meg sat on the edge of the bed. “You scared me.”
“I’d say I won’t do it again, but with my job, I can’t guarantee that.”
Her face remained solemn. Finally, she turned and looked at him. The fear in her eyes offset the determined set of her jaw. “I don’t expect you to guarantee it.”
“I wish we were at home in bed.”
Echo Falls, Texas Boxed Set Page 32
