He wanted so much for Haley to understand—to accept. Before he could go on, she asked another question.
“So, you and she . . . ?”
And here it was. “We acted like a couple when others were around. That meant holding hands, keeping an arm around her . . . kissing.” He had to make Haley see how it was. “But, we never crossed the line. Never. Once we were alone, we never even touched each other.”
Tears welled in Haley’s eyes. “But for four years, you and she were together—only for show, but still acting as a couple.” She picked up a napkin and wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry, Beau. I just can’t—I can’t—” She stood up and rushed away. The bell on the door sounded louder than usual as it closed behind her.
She had responded just like he feared she would. Before he’d gone undercover, he had practiced the same kind of faith Haley did now. Kissing, and even small intimacies like holding hands, were special, and saved for the person you thought you were supposed to be with. Even though he’d never gone any further with Audrey, Hardy knew he’d gone too far in Haley’s eyes.
He dug his wallet out and threw enough money on the table for both their meals. He suddenly wanted to leave, to go away and never have to face who he’d been again. But first, he had to help stop the people terrorizing Shadow. He took off out the door and headed for the station. Maybe if he looked at the files again, he’d get some more ideas. The sooner the cases were solved, the quicker he could forget all of this. The quicker he could forget Haley Johnson, and how ashamed she’d just made him feel.
Chapter 32
Haley focused all her attention on the paper in front of her. If she kept busy writing notes, she could make herself forget that a glance to her left would be a view into Mitch's office. Nothing unusual, except Beau Harding was sitting and talking to the sheriff. Her feelings went all over the map just thinking about him, let alone while looking at him.
What had made her even think of Hardy with women, let alone given her the gumption to ask? It wasn’t like she was now, or ever going to be, his girlfriend. And, if she had just used her brain, common sense dictated the necessity of doing more than announcing his undercover name.
She had to be honest with herself. There was a part of her wishing their relationship could become more. Her heart had foolishly soared during those moments she thought he wanted to take her with him—not that she could have gone.
No. She wanted him to make peace with God, somehow be able to safely make his home in Shadow, and build a life with her. She hadn’t been prepared to face the reality of who he really was or who he had been before they met.
Sitting and listening to him talk about his family had added to her delusional fairy tale. If he had parents with a stable marriage, maybe he could have one too. Only he wasn’t who she’d imagined him to be. He wasn’t the man for her after all.
The non-emergency phone’s ring drew her from her troubled thoughts.
“Shadow County Sheriff’s office.”
“Haley, this is Todd Warner over at the post office.”
“Hi, Todd. How can I help you?” She picked up her pen; he would have license plates on cars parked in the handicap zone. His father was a quadriplegic, and Todd had been known to leave notes under the windshield wipers of wrongly parked vehicles. He surprised her this time.
“I have an employee who hasn’t shown up for his last three shifts, and he’s not answering his phone. He’s usually reliable, so I gave him the benefit of a doubt. But today, he’s not here again, and I’m worried that something may have happened to him. I thought maybe the police could check on him just to make sure he’s okay.”
“Which employee are you referring to?” She held her pen ready to write a name.
“William Baxter. He lives over on Timber Street. If you need his address, I can look it up for you.”
“No, Todd, that’s okay. I can pull it up on the computer.” She scooted her chair to the keyboard and typed in the missing mail carrier’s name. An address and phone number instantly popped up. “I have it in front of me. I’ll have a deputy over there to check things out shortly.”
“Thank you, Haley. Will somebody let me know what you find?”
Haley wrote herself a note. “I’ll give you a call and let you know as soon as I hear from the deputy.”
Her thoughts were on Will Baxter as she hung up the phone and keyed the radio microphone. She’d thought it odd that Steve Peterson had delivered their mail the past two days, but hadn’t gotten around to asking him where Will was.
She looked at the short list of officers on duty and their last locations. It looked like Hank was nearest Will Baxter’s home.
“Base to Hank.”
A few seconds later, Hank’s voice answered. “Stone here.”
“Hank, we have a possible ten-fifty-seven. A resident hasn’t shown up to work for two days in a row, and his boss wants us to check on him.” She gave Hank the address.
“Ten-four.”
Hopefully, Will was sleeping off a wild weekend or something similar to that. Haley realized that, despite the interaction she had with him during the fundraiser, she knew nothing about Will Baxter’s personal life.
Haley turned back to her notes and resumed writing them more legibly. Waiting was one of the hardest parts of her job, and she had long ago learned to keep busy while she did so.
“Haley, can you come in here for a minute?” Mitch’s voice came over the intercom.
For one brief instant, she thought about pushing the button and saying, “no.” She didn’t want to go into the office where Beau Harding currently sat. She wondered what Mitch would think if his usually reliable employee suddenly refused his request.
Not that Haley would find out. Her job was too important to experiment with, so she grabbed a pad of paper and pen before walking over to open Mitch’s office door.
“What do you need, Mitch?” She deliberately avoided looking at Beau.
“I need you to help Hardy for a few minutes.” Of course, he did.
She sighed before she could stop herself. “What do you want me to do?”
Mitch seemed totally unaware of her reluctance to comply with his instructions. “He has some ideas about our crime wave and wants to look at past records. I need you to put him on your computer and show him how to access our case files. He can tell you more precisely what he’s looking for. Just give him a hand if he needs it.”
Haley knew the three short hours of sleep she’d gotten the night before were insufficient when she had an inane urge to start applauding. That was the only kind of hand she felt up to giving Beau Harding.
She still hadn’t made eye contact with him before she turned and led the way back to her station.
“Hey, you two.” The male voice startled Haley. She hadn’t heard anybody come in.
“Hey, Matt.” Beau greeted the other man. Haley was a bit surprised by the pleasure in Beau’s voice.
“How can I help you, Matt?” She turned to face the counter, all too aware of the man standing beside her.
Matt Ashford rolled his eyes and shoved a yellow slip of paper across the counter. “If your deputies aren’t catching me in a speed trap, they’re giving me tickets for parking where they say I shouldn’t.”
Haley smiled in spite of herself. “Where did you park your truck this time?”
“It’s not like a bunch of kids are clamoring to go to the playground this time of year,” Matt declared. “Nobody else wanted to park there.”
Beau chuckled. “I take it from the way you two are talking, your parking habits aren’t so hot.” He addressed Matt.
Matt did a pretty good job of appearing affronted. “My parking habits are perfectly fine. It’s just the deputies in this town are too cotton pickin’ particular about where my truck is parked.”
A soft laugh escaped Haley before she could stop it. ”You took up every space in front of Whites Salon with that semi, and I’m pretty sure it’s a given that an alley isn’t ever sup
posed to be blocked.”
“You hear this?” Matt asked Beau. "Picky.”
After a few more of Matt’s teasing protests and retorts from Haley, Matt paid his fine and left.
Once more, Haley found herself standing alone with Beau.
“You and Matt are friends,” he observed, a strange note in his voice. “Or are you seeing him? He’s a little old for you.”
For a minute, Haley had no idea what Beau was asking her. “I see him every time he comes in to pay a speeding ticket or parking fine.” Then she realized exactly what Beau had meant. She refused to dignify his question with an answer.
“You can use that chair.” She indicated the second office chair they kept for when two dispatchers were needed.
Beau looked like he wanted to say something else, but he only said, “Thank you,” and sat down.
Determined to stick to business, Haley leaned down in front of the computer and moved the cursor. “Just go into this file. Normally, our last names are our passwords, but you’re not in the system. You can use mine.”
She moved out of the way while he typed Johnson and pressed enter.
“What kind of crimes are you looking at?”
She could see him looking at her in her peripheral vision, but she kept her eyes focused on the computer screen. “I want any petty thefts, shoplifters, penny ante crimes.”
“Then type infractions and misdemeanors in the filtering field.” She waited while he did that. “Now, type in the date range you want to search.”
She watched as he typed in a date allowing him to look as far back as two years up through the current records. “And now, just click in the box signifying if you want city records only, or county records.”
He chose county records. “Press enter, and you should have what you’re looking for.”
She waited until the screen was full of police records before she sat down in her own chair and returned to her notes.
It was so quiet as they both worked Haley could hear the large wall clock ticking away the seconds.
“Haley, can you tell me about Joe Brockman? He’s in here for several offenses, all misdemeanors, and it looks like he’s gotten off with a slap on the wrist every time.”
She wanted Hardy to just sit quietly and tend to his own business and leave her alone. But Mitch had told her to help him.
“See the scroll icon next to his name?” She leaned over and pointed to it.
“Yes.” He moved the cursor over the icon.
“If you click on it, you’ll get a full data sheet on him. It will tell you more about him than I can.”
“Thank you.” The screen filled with information about Joe Brockman, including a very unflattering mug shot. Haley turned back to her own work.
They worked quietly next to each other for at least a half hour when the non-emergency phone rang, breaking the silence.
“Shadow County Sheriff’s office.”
“Haley?”
“Yes.”
“This is Wyatt. Have I called at a bad time?”
“Wyatt?” What was Wyatt Millan doing calling her at work? At all for that matter? “What can I do for you?”
“I know you said you don’t date, but could I talk you into joining the new guy in town for dinner this evening? We can go to O’Leary’s. I hear they have the best steaks in town.” The pleading tone in his voice wasn’t attractive.
“I’m sorry.” She kept her voice firm and steady. “I’m not supposed to receive personal calls at the station, and I just can’t go out with you.”
“Come on.” Okay. He was moving from unattractive to annoying. “We won’t call it a date.”
“It doesn’t matter what we’d call it. I’m sorry, but I’m not interested.” She took a deep breath. “I have to go. Have a nice day, Wyatt.”
She disconnected before he could say anything else.
“Another admirer?” Beau’s voice startled her. She had actually forgotten he was there.
She glanced at him. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“I want it to be, though.” He sounded like the words had been torn from his very being. “You don’t know how much I want it to be.”
Her heart did a little flip-flop before reality set in. "We’ve' had this discussion, and besides you’re not . . . You’re not . . . ”
“Perfect?” he supplied. “Maybe I’m wrong, but didn’t Jesus himself love sinners? I haven’t been to church in a long time, but I seem to remember something about judging others and forgiving.”
“I don’t want to talk about this.” Haley bent her head and looked at the blurred figures she knew to be written words on the paper.
“Good.” His voice was closer to her. “Because I’d rather you just listen.”
She looked up at him with disbelief. “What…I’m—”
“I know I’ve done things—acted in ways you don’t approve of. I could try to justify them by saying it was part of my job, and it was, but I know it was wrong, too. You may not believe me, but I understand how precious kisses and touches are. It went against everything I believed to do those things with Audrey. The only way I could get through it was to be Joe Ryman when I was with her. I don’t know how else to explain it.”
“I’m…I…” She didn’t know what to say. “I can’t talk about this right now.” Haley pressed the intercom button on the phone. “Mitch, I’m taking my break.”
“Okay.” Mitch’s voice came out of the speaker. “I’ll man the phones.”
Haley stood up and walked away, Hardy’s earnest expression etched into her brain. She mindlessly walked to the refrigerator in the back room and stuck a dollar in the jar on top of it before grabbing a bottle of soda.
The small settee felt harder than usual as she sank onto it. She felt his words whirling like a cyclone through her mind.
Was she judging him? Yes, she was. But, if she were honest with herself, wasn't it more jealousy than disapproval? She had always figured when the right guy came along, they would be on equal footing. He wasn’t supposed to be…experienced.
Wait a minute. What was she thinking? Beau Harding wasn’t the man she was supposed to be with. He couldn’t be. Because he wasn’t staying in Shadow any longer than he felt he had to. They had no future together.
With that unhappy thought fixed in her mind, Haley made herself look at the situation from Beau’s point of view. He had found it necessary to behave in a way that conflicted with his beliefs.
Was what Beau and this Audrey woman did any different than actors on a movie screen? Who was she to sit in judgment over his actions?
She took a drink of her soda and stood up. Beau needed a friend, and that’s what she would be. Haley dug another dollar out of her jeans and stuffed it in the jar. Maybe her friend would accept a soft drink as a peace offering.
Haley had a smile on her face as she headed back to the dispatch station.
Chapter 33
He hung up the phone and stood to look out the window. It seemed that not only was Harding Davis working for the sheriff’s office, he was interested in a woman who worked there as well. His source told him they were starting to become close.
What would the old man’s death do to a burgeoning relationship, possibly even a romance? Davis would have to leave Shadow at least long enough to pay his respects. Would that pull him away from the woman he was interested in, or stir up sympathy in her that might bring them closer?
It was times like this when he felt older than he was. He would never tell another living soul, but he sometimes wished he’d made different choices. In many, many past situations.
He stood straighter and stiffened his spine. Harding Davis had gotten himself into this mess. And if there were any way he could simply wipe Davis off the face of the earth without being caught, he’d do it in a heartbeat. With the way things were, that was simply not possible, though. Instead, he had to take it slowly and make Davis suffer. According to his plan, how things appeared were j
ust as important as what was done.
He still needed to make up his mind about Davis’s father. The plan had been set into motion, and if he didn’t make a phone call within the next hour, it would be too late. He needed to decide soon.
But either way, Harding Davis would cease to exist. It wasn’t a matter of if; it was simply a question of when.
Chapter 34
Hardy’s cell phone rang twice, then went silent. He quickly rolled over in bed and picked it up, ready to answer the next ring.
“Beau, it’s Elliott.”
He’d used the emergency signal. “What’s going on?”
Hardy heard his brother-in-law draw a deep breath. “He’s okay now, but somebody tried to kill H.B. last night.”
“What?” Hardy abruptly stood, his knuckles white as he grasped the phone. “Who? How?”
“Not sure who, but you have your mom to thank for stopping the how.” Elliott’s calm voice did little to slow Hardy’s pounding heart. “Sharon walked in on a male nurse getting ready to inject something into your dad’s IV. Your mom didn’t recognize the man, and she knew it wasn’t time for H.B. to be getting his meds, so she went at him and yelled for help. The guy knocked her down and ran out of the room. The doctor said the syringe he dropped was full of bleach. It would have killed your dad within minutes.”
“But Mom and Dad are both okay?” Hardy needed to hear the words.
“Your mom has a pretty good bruise on her arm, and she’s so mad she’s spitting nails, but yes. They’re both okay.”
Hardy took a deep breath and pushed his personal feelings to the back burner. This was the time to think like a police detective. “I saw security cameras all over that hospital. The guy had to be caught on tape.”
“We’ve already got the pictures, Beau, but the man knew what he was doing. He never gave a camera a clear shot of his face.”
“What about Mom? Can she pick him out of a photo lineup?” Thinking like a cop was harder than he’d ever imagined when it involved his family.
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