“Good. Because I want you out of Frannie’s house by the end of the week.”
“Out of my house? Did you just tell her to get out of my house? The one I pay the mortgage on?” Francine swings her legs over the side of the bed and gives her brother a hearty shove that has him stumbling backwards into the IV pole. The loud clatter of it hitting the floor brings the nurse back into the room.
“Is everything okay in here?” She looks worried.
“It’s fine,” Adam answers, righting the pole with a hard look at Art. “He just backed up without looking where he was going.”
Once she leaves, Francine resumes her attack. “It is my house, Arthur. Your name isn’t on the deed, and I say who stays and who goes. Not you. And Emily is staying. Deal with it. And before you come up with some smart-ass response about the diner being yours and I might be out of a job, let me just tell you I’ll gladly quit before I’ll let you or anyone else make decisions for me. You got that?” She points her index finger at him for emphasis.
Art’s eyes bulge, and he stares back at his sister with a mixture of disbelief and admiration. Then he swallows hard and nods his head. “Well, I don’t have to like it.”
“You sure don’t.”
Though it seems like the choice has been made, I see the wedge it’s driving between sister and brother, and I won’t allow my problems to separate them even if it’s only briefly. “Francine, you know I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” When her eyes narrow, I push on before she can interrupt. “But it’s going to be better for everyone if I do move out, and I’ll find another job, too. There’s no need for Art to be reminded of what could have happened to you.”
Art shifts his stance, and something on the floor grabs his attention. “I appreciate that, Emily.”
“You appreciate that?” Francine is no longer merely pissed. She’s livid, and when she slides off the exam table, her brother takes a step back, careful to avoid the pole this time. “Well, as long as you’re happy, I guess that’s all that matters, right? Emily has to move out because you want her to. I have to stay in the hospital because it’s what you want. Well, here’s a newsflash you obviously missed. This isn’t about you, Arthur. It’s about my friendship with Emily, who I decide to open my home to, and the way I choose to live my life. You’ve never been able to control me, and you should know better than to even try.”
“It’s not about controlling you.” Art fists his hands at his sides.
“Oh, it’s not? I get it. It’s about how much you care about me. Well, you can care about me without telling me what I’m going to do and who I can be friends with.”
“I don’t care about you being friends with her,” he roars back. “I just don’t want her anywhere near you until this bastard is caught.”
“And one more newsflash. I don’t give a hairy rat’s ass what you want.”
“Francine,” I try to interrupt, but Adam beats me to it by calling both of their names in a stern voice.
All of us turn to look at him. He has that ability to draw the attention of every person in the room by just his tone.
“Now isn’t the time to talk about this. Francine, you need to rest. Emily and I will check on you later.” He starts toward the door then stops and retreats back to stand in front of Art. “I respect you and consider you a friend, but if you ever talk to Emily that way again, I’ll kick your ass.” He doesn’t wait for a response, just slides his hand down to the small of my back and begins leading me from the room.
I look back over my shoulder and mouth goodbye to Francine who’s smirking a little more than she should for someone who’s just been on the receiving end of a bullet.
Chapter Eight
Gary’s wallet is still on the coffee table. I scoop it up and slip it into my purse before Adam sees me. The house is still crawling with police personnel so I grab a bag and quickly stuff more clothes into it while Adam patrols the hallway of my bedroom like he’s afraid to let me out of his sight.
“So Francine’s going to Art’s house tonight then?” I recognize Gary’s voice coming from the living room.
“I would imagine so. At least this way, we won’t have to put a deputy on her house. Art can watch her.”
“Art’s not a cop.” There’s a bite to Gary’s voice.
“He can protect her.” Adam taps on the wall just inside the bedroom. “You about done? Crime scene still has a lot of work to do.”
In reality, I shouldn’t even be in here, but Adam had made an exception which the crime scene investigator didn’t particularly like. I’m already moving as fast as I can so I just shrug and toss another blouse into the duffel bag Adam pulled out of his truck.
“You can come back for more clothes, Emily, and besides that, I do have a washer and dryer.”
But Art won’t like it if I have to come back, and though I know he was only speaking from a place of fear, I have no intention of coming between him and Francine. Since Adam muttered about Art the entire time we were in his truck, he’s not going to care much about what Francine’s brother likes or doesn’t like. So I keep my thoughts to myself.
“Sheriff, there’s something you want to see out here.” The voice comes from outside my bedroom window which makes me hurry over to see, but the technician has already rounded the corner.
“Gary, stay here with Emily.”
“Yes, sir.” The formality of his response showcases his nervousness.
Once Adam disappears from the house, I stick my head out of the room and beckon the deputy over. “You left this last night.” I hand the wallet to him, and his ears go pink. “I hope you really like her, and you’re not jerking her around.”
The moment I say it, I want to retract it. Gary’s relationship with Francine is none of my business…except it is. She’s my friend, the first I’ve had in a very long while, and I don’t want her to get hurt.
Gary clears his throat and shuffles his feet on the hardwood floors outside my bedroom. “I do like her.” His lips tilt upwards in a smile. “And I don’t blame you for wanting to make sure she’s okay.” He stuff his wallet into the front pocket of his uniform pants. “So the Sheriff mentioned y’all might be heading back to Broomtown this week. You really think that’s safe?”
“Nowhere is safe until this sniper is caught.” I zip the duffel bag and pull it off the bed. Gary comes forward and takes it out of my grasp. “Thanks.”
“What are you hoping to find in your old town? I mean, you think anyone there is going to talk to you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe Ike’s attorney. It’s worth a shot anyway.” I shift my glance to my bedroom window and wince. “Poor choice of words.”
“Hey.” Gary touches my arm. “Francine’s going to be fine. Once she’s out of the hospital and gets settled at Art’s place, I’ll head on over and check on her.”
“Adam and I are planning on stopping by ourselves.”
The front door bangs open, letting Adam back into the house. “You ready?” He pins me with a gaze telling me he is.
“I just finished.” I jerk my head toward the bag Gary’s holding.
“Good.” He takes it from the deputy and holds out his hand for mine.
“What did the technician want to show you?” Gary falls into step behind us.
“Something he thought was important but wasn’t.” The curt reply earns him a look of curiosity from both me and Gary.
“Unless you need me to stay here, boss, I’ll head on back to the office.” Gary begins sidling toward his car.
“The techs have it covered, but stay by the radio. I don’t know when I’ll be in, but call me immediately if…” he lowers his voice, presumably so I won’t hear, but I’m too close, “there’s another shot in town.”
“Will do.”
After Gary saunters away, Adam helps me into the truck. I’m not a patient waiter, but I hold my tongue until he slides in beside me. “What was that all about?”
He’s the picture of innocence. “
What?”
“That tech showed you something. What was it?”
“It’s police business, Emily. Let it go.”
“Some lunatic shot my friend this morning. That makes it my business, too.”
“Doesn’t work like that.” He shifts the truck into reverse and backs out of the makeshift driveway.
I shift in the seat and try not to seethe. “I know you’re just trying to protect me.” The olive branch I offer seems to go unnoticed for Adam doesn’t respond. I try again. “But I don’t ask questions just because I want to know. I need to know who this bastard is.”
“You need to know when he gets caught.” Adam’s dark tone slices the interior of the truck.
“True, but I also want to know his identity.”
“Because you think it might be someone you know?”
“The thought has crossed my mind. If Mark hired someone from Broomtown, there’s a likelihood that I will know him. I might be able to tell you more about him, something that will help, if we get his name.”
“Emily.” His voice hardens even more if that’s possible. “Once we get his name, we won’t need to know anything else. That’s what our computers are for. They’ll lead us straight to him.”
“Francine thinks she saw a truck outside my bedroom window this morning. Did you find tire prints? Is that what you don’t want me to know? You think I’ll freak out knowing he was that close? He was watching me through the window at the YWCA, Adam. How much closer could he get?”
He takes his eyes off the road long enough to give me a brief glance. “The treads were from specialty tires, Emily. Used for military vehicles and some industrial equipment.”
“You think the guy’s in the military?” I haven’t considered that, but I mentally begin scrolling through the list of guys in Broomtown with military experience. It’s not long. Most of the men in town preferred to talk about what they would do if they were in the service rather than join. Even Mark had been wrapped up in the “I’d kick Bin Laden’s ass” group when he hadn’t even tied a shoelace on a boot.
“That certainly narrows down the possible suspects if we’re starting to look at guys back home. Maybe three that I know about.” I pause before adding, “And Jeremy’s one of them.”
Adam’s hands tighten around the wheel, and he nods. “I know. I ran background on him the first time he came to town.”
That piece of information doesn’t surprise me. “I don’t see Jeremy being involved in this.”
“You know something about him I don’t?”
“A lot actually, but that’s beside the point. The main thing is he’s all bluster. I’ve seen him get into confrontations with guys in a bar, and he always make some excuse about needing to leave, or the bartender conveniently breaks it up.”
“That didn’t stop him from going at it with Art.”
“I think Art surprised him, and he fought back. Jeremy’s walked in Mark’s shadow all of his life, and he’s never been the type to step out of it.”
“Maybe he’s changed his mind now that Mark’s gone. Could be he thinks this is his time to shine.” Adam accelerates onto the main road that will take us to his house.
“Maybe.” I still don’t buy it, and my mind drifts as the truck eats up the short distance to his home. And he’s not going to like where it’s drifting. “Tell me why you have bulletproof glass as windows.”
He pulls into his driveway and kills the engine. “I thought we went over this.”
“No, we tried, but you evaded. That’s not telling me anything.”
“It’s a long story.”
“And it looks like I’m going to be here awhile, but I would prefer to talk inside where it’s warm.” I hop out of the truck and head for the porch, giving him no choice but to follow.
The driver’s side door slams shut, and Adam’s boot crunch over the frozen ground. When he puts the key in the lock, I can see the tension in the muscles of his neck. Whatever reason he has for the bulletproof glass, it’s clear he’d rather dodge bullets than tell me.
Now that I have an opening, though, I’m not letting the subject go. It’s time he gives me some answers about his life. I give him time to remove his coat and toss it over the back of the recliner before prodding him. “I’m warm now.”
He stuffs his hands into his pockets and prowls the living room. “Emily, now really isn’t the time.”
“Why not? It’s not like we don’t have plenty of it.”
“I need to get back to the office and check in.”
“Really? Because you just told Gary you weren’t sure when you’d be back in. What you need to do is stop avoiding this subject. It’s clear you don’t want to talk about it. I get that, but I’m not going to stop asking. And since you know practically everything there is to know about my life, I think I have a right to know a little about yours.”
His exhalation is loud and explosive, and his pace increases as he treads the wooden floor. “Toward the end of our marriage, Kathleen got involved with a loan shark and couldn’t pay him back. He sent his goons after her, and they sprayed our house with bullets. Kathleen took one to the shoulder. I thought she was going to bleed out in my arms.”
“So you did this to protect her?”
“Yes and no. She didn’t stay long after she got out of the hospital.”
“That wasn’t that long of a story so I’m guessing there’s more.”
“Yeah.” His pacing takes him to the window next to the sofa, and he stares out at the cold, grey day. “After Kathleen left, the guys came back looking for her. They got the drop on me. I spent three weeks in intensive care, and once I’d recovered, I made sure that would never happen again.”
My blood chills. He’s not just talking about upgrades to the quality of his windows. “You went after them, didn’t you?”
The silence that follows is so thick and uncomfortable, I start to think about letting the subject drop. Am I pushing him too hard? Is there an invisible line I’m not supposed to cross?
No, this is why I’m asking the questions. I need to get to know this man whose bed I’ve been sharing. I need to know more than just his body. Just as my secrets had been laid bare, I had to know his. So I take a deep breath and give him a push with just the call of his name. With one word, I let him know I’m not letting this drop.
He lifts his hands and presses them against the cold windowpanes, the protection that has hidden his secret for years. When he finally answers me, his voice is low, almost desperate. “I had to.”
The cold permeates every pore of my body, wrapping its chilly grasp around me so tightly my lungs start to freeze. “Did you arrest them, Adam?”
“Guys like that don’t go on trial, Emily. Their boss would have paid their way out of the system because he needed them. It would have only been a matter of time before they were back on the street, before some other unfortunate soul got the brunt of their fury. I couldn’t live with that on my conscience.”
It hurt to breathe, almost too much to ask the next question. “So you killed them?”
The pain in his hazel eyes when he turns to face me will haunt me forever. Whatever measures he took, he isn’t proud, but neither is he ashamed. “Is what I tell you going to make a difference in how you feel? In where you want to be?”
I honestly don’t know how to answer that so I stare at the floor for a long time…until he walks past me. I catch the scent of his aftershave, and I inhale deeply. I’m not sure if I’m sorting memories for the future we won’t have. Inside me, my stomach is a mess of tortured feelings. While I want to tell Adam I understand, I can’t bring myself to say the words.
I remember all too well holding the gun in my hand when I’d faced Mark the night I’d shot him. One bullet could have stopped him permanently, but I shot him in the shoulder instead. I could never figure out if I just didn’t have the courage to take another man’s life. But was it courage that was necessary?
Adam is moving around in the kitchen now
, his footsteps heavy on the wooden floor. He opens the refrigerator door and takes out a beer. The bottle makes a hiss when he twists the top off.
I watch him, unable to force more words past my throat. I’d opened this can of worms, and I desperately wanted to seal the top. But, as my dad used to say, you can’t unring a bell. And this was one is clanging so loudly, my ears hurt.
I take a deep breath and ask again. “Did you kill them?”
The bottle thumps against the island. “Yes.” The one word is louder than a gunshot and just as destructive.
“How many?” Pain nestles underneath my breastbone. In spite of it, I lift my gaze to meet his, a little surprised to see he’s moved out of the kitchen and is standing less than a couple of feet away from me.
“Why is this so important to you?”
“How many?” I emphasize each word, each syllable. I have to know. He won’t understand why because I’m not sure I do.
“Four.”
My vision greys. “You killed four men?” Though I want to back away, my feet won’t move. “Did they know you were coming, or did you surprise them?”
Adam curses below his breath and scrubs the top of his head with the palm of his hand. “Emily, this is ridiculous, and it has nothing to do with the here and now.”
“It’s not ridiculous. How could you think I wouldn’t want to know about this? Those men attacked you, almost killed you, and you took revenge by killing them. You murdered them.”
He’s standing in front of me so fast, I barely had time to blink. “No. Not murder. Yeah, I went after them looking for a fight, and they all obliged me. But it wasn’t a massacre, Emily. I’d intended to take them on one at a time, but that’s not how they chose to play it. When it’s four against one, you even the odds no matter how you have to do it. I shot the first one, and the other three kept coming. By that time, running away wasn’t an option. I couldn’t turn my back on them because I didn’t know if they’d put a knife in my spine.”
“Did you report their deaths or leave them lying where they’d dropped?” There’s bitterness in my voice, more than a little anger, too. Maybe it’s my own fault for believing Adam had a different outlook on life. I thought he worked for justice and not just when it suited him.
Being Lovers Page 7
