Deputy Defender

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Deputy Defender Page 6

by Cindi Myers


  “It’s all right, Parker, you can go,” Brenda said. “And thank you again.”

  “Sure. See ya.” He pushed out the door.

  As it shut behind him, Brenda turned on Eddie. “What are you doing here?” she asked. “The museum is closed.”

  “Your boss, the mayor, decided after that fire at your house, he didn’t want to take any chances on the museum, so he hired me as a security guard.”

  “No one told me anything about this.”

  He shrugged. “It was just decided. You can call the mayor and ask him, if you like.” He leaned one hip against the counter, as if prepared to wait all day.

  “I certainly will.” She grabbed the phone and retreated into the workroom, shutting the door behind her. She punched in the number for the mayor’s office and waited impatiently as it rang and rang.

  “Town of Eagle Mountain,” a pleasant female voice answered.

  “Gail, this is Brenda Stenson. I need to speak with Larry.” Mayor Larry Rowe had been elected after Jan Selkirk had declined to run for reelection, running a well-funded campaign with promises of new jobs and opportunities for the town. He wasn’t the friendliest person Brenda had ever met, but until now he had left her alone to do her job.

  “I think he’s still in, Brenda, let me check.”

  A few moments later Larry answered. “Brenda! What can I do for you?”

  “Eddie Carstairs is over here at the museum saying you hired him as a security guard. Is that right?”

  “Well, yes, but he wasn’t supposed to start until tonight—after I had a chance to talk with you.”

  “I’m glad you thought it was a good idea to consult me on this.”

  Larry’s voice hardened. “The city has a valuable investment in that museum, and since you seem to have attracted some unsavory attention, we find ourselves in the position of having to protect that investment.”

  “So this is all my fault?”

  “The arson at your home seems to indicate the threats are targeted at you.”

  “There’s no reason to think the museum is in any danger.”

  “There’s no reason to think it isn’t. Eddie came to us and offered his services, and we thought it prudent to take him up on the offer.”

  She hung up the phone and returned to the front room. “All good?” Eddie asked.

  “Fine.” She gathered up her purse. “You can follow me outside while I lock up.”

  “You can leave it unlocked and I’ll hang out in here overnight,” he said.

  “You can follow me outside while I lock up and you can ‘hang out’ in your car overnight.”

  She could tell he wanted to argue, but thought better of it. He followed her onto the front porch and watched, frowning, as she locked the dead bolt. “You should be grateful to me for protecting your livelihood,” he said.

  “I may not have control over much in my life right now,” she said, “but at least I get to decide for myself what and who I’m grateful for. Right now, you’re not on my list.”

  The astonished expression on his face was almost worth the aggravation with the mayor. She stalked to her car, started it and had turned down the street toward her home when she remembered she didn’t have a home to go to.

  Part of her was tempted to keep driving—where, she had no idea. But she had never been one to run away from problems. So she turned around and headed out of town, to the ranch. Time to find out from Dwight how much longer she was going to be stuck in this limbo.

  Chapter Six

  Parker Riddell cruised slowly down Eagle Mountain’s Main Street, careful to stay under the ridiculous twenty-five-mile-per-hour speed limit. He wasn’t going to give the local cops any reason to hassle him—not to mention if Paige got a call from the sheriff’s office about him, she would go ballistic. He didn’t need another lecture about how she was doing him a favor and risking her own reputation and all she had worked for to look after him—yadda, yadda, yadda.

  Nobody else was around after nine o’clock at night—talk about rolling up the sidewalks. This place was like a ghost town. The only cars were parked around Moe’s Pub—it and Peggy’s Pizza were the only businesses still open. There wasn’t a movie theater or even a lousy bowling alley for a hundred miles. Paige always talked as if the lack of anything to do would help him stay out of trouble. Going to the movies and playing video games at the arcade weren’t what had gotten him into trouble and she knew it.

  But yeah, he was grateful for her—sort of—getting him away from his old hangouts. He’d worked hard in rehab and he didn’t want to go back. But man, it wouldn’t hurt to have a little excitement every once in a while, would it? He turned the corner and drove past the history museum. The pizza in the carrier on the passenger seat beside him was headed to one of Parker’s regulars—a guy who worked second shift at the RV factory up in Junction. He ordered a couple times a week. Parker glanced over at the museum as he passed and was surprised to see two cars parked next to the old building. He slowed and craned his neck for a closer look. In the moonlight, he could make out that guy Eddie’s pale face behind the wheel of a beat-up Jeep Wagoneer.

  Eddie was talking to another man who had positioned his black SUV cop-style, so the drivers were door-to-door. What were they doing at the museum this time of night?

  He made his delivery. His customer, Jason, tipped him a five, which was really decent of him. Parker slipped the five in his wallet and the rest of the money in the pouch for Peggy, then headed back toward the museum. He parked up the block and made his way in the darkness, sneaking up behind the two vehicles. He wasn’t doing anything wrong, he reminded himself. Brenda clearly hadn’t liked this Eddie fellow, and Parker owed it to her to make sure the guy wasn’t ripping her off.

  Parker hadn’t thought much of the cop wannabe, either. It hadn’t taken too many brains to figure out that Eddie was the guy Paige had talked about as the reserve deputy who had been fired and was trying to make trouble. And he’d looked at Parker like he was a dog he wanted to kick.

  Parker heard Eddie and the other guy a long time before he got close enough to see them in the dark. Obviously, they weren’t worried about being overheard. But Parker couldn’t make out everything they said, just phrases that drifted on the night breeze.

  “I’m taking care of it,” Eddie said.

  A mumble from the other guy.

  “You don’t have to worry. I know how to handle this. That’s why you hired me, right?”

  The other guy said something and they both laughed. Parker needed to get closer, to hear the whole conversation. He moved carefully, keeping to the shadows from a row of bushes alongside the alley where the cars were parked.

  He didn’t see the pile of debris set out for trash pickup until it was too late. He stumbled right into it, sending boxes and cans tumbling down, making a racket that could probably be heard a block away.

  “Hey!” Eddie shouted.

  The other man started up his SUV and sped away. Parker lurched to his feet and tried to run, but Eddie was on him, shoving him back onto the ground, the barrel of his pistol pressed to the side of Parker’s face. “What are you doing sneaking around here?” Eddie demanded.

  “I saw the cars. I wanted to make sure everything was all right.”

  Eddie shoved Parker’s face further into the gravel. “Were you trying to steal something? I’ll bet that’s what you were doing. You ‘volunteered’ so you could check the place out and come back later and help yourself.”

  “No!” Parker squirmed, trying to free himself.

  “Shut up.” Eddie shoved the gun harder into Parker’s cheek. “Maybe I ought to shoot you now and do everyone here a favor.”

  * * *

  “DO YOU THINK you could get away from the museum one day and go with me up to the Eagle Mountain Resort site?” Dwight asked as he and Brenda did dishes t
hat evening. Dinner had been grilled steaks on the back patio, and Brenda had done her best to smile and join in the conversation, but he could tell she was distracted. No surprise—she was probably worried about her house, and about whoever had targeted her.

  “Why do you want me to go up there with you?” she asked.

  “When we rescued Gage and Maya and her little niece, Casey, from those kidnappers last month, they were being held in an underground chamber on the resort land,” he said.

  “Yes, I heard about that.” She added a dried plate to the stack on the kitchen table.

  “What you probably didn’t hear is that next to the chamber where they were held was another underground space that looked as if it had been used as a laboratory. The DEA has been investigating it, and hasn’t found any sign of illegal activity. Now I’m wondering if it could be related to the labs the government established in the area to work on biological and chemical weapons—like that book talked about.”

  She stuck out her lower lip, considering. “The book does talk about some of the laboratories being underground—in old mines or caves. What does the DEA say?”

  “They don’t think any of the equipment is old enough, but they’re not historians. I thought if you had a look, you might interpret things differently.”

  “But Wade and Brock kidnapped Maya and Gage and Casey,” Brenda said. “And they’re dead—right?” Finding out that the two men who ran the town’s successful outdoor store were behind the kidnappings, and responsible for the murders of Maya’s sister and brother-in-law, had shocked the town.

  “They’re dead, but we suspect they were working for someone else.”

  “The same person who’s been threatening me?”

  “Maybe,” he said. “But maybe not.”

  She fell silent, mechanically drying plates and glasses and silverware, but Dwight couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. When the last dish had been put away, he turned to her. “Something’s bothering you,” he said. “Is it the threats or your house, or something else on top of all that?”

  “I think that’s enough to bother anyone,” she said.

  “It is. But if it would help to talk about it—if you need someone to listen to you, I’d like to be that person.”

  She straightened the dish towel she had just hung on the handle of the oven. “It will probably sound silly, especially considering everything else that has happened.”

  “I’ve never thought of you as particularly silly,” he said. “What’s happened?”

  “The mayor—without consulting me—decided to hire Eddie Carstairs as a security guard for the museum. At a time when our budget is so squeezed we don’t know if we’ll be able to keep the doors open, he decided to spend money on this. And when I objected, he insinuated this was all my fault—that I had somehow put the museum property in danger.”

  Anguish colored the flood of words. He waited until she fell silent once more and said, “I can see why you’re upset. The mayor isn’t always the most diplomatic person.” Larry Rowe had spent a lot of money and effort on his campaign for the office, but once elected, he had developed a reputation as a no-nonsense administrator who did whatever it took to get what he wanted.

  “To make things worse, Eddie showed up while Parker Riddell was still at the museum and treated him horribly. It was embarrassing.”

  “So Parker volunteered today?” Dwight kept his voice neutral, though he didn’t like the idea of Brenda working closely with the troubled young man. Parker might be sincere in his desire to make a fresh start, but did Brenda have to be part of that?

  “Yes, and he was wonderful. He’s a very serious, quiet young man, and he’s sincerely interested in history.” Her shoulders sagged. “And I think he’s lonely. There aren’t a lot of people his age in this town for him to hang out with.”

  “It’s great that you want to give him a chance,” Dwight said. “Just...be careful.”

  “I will, I—”

  His phone rang, interrupting her. “Sorry,” he muttered, and took the call.

  “Eddie Carstairs just hauled in Parker Riddell,” Gage said when Dwight answered. “Eddie says he caught him trying to break into the history museum.”

  Dwight glanced at Brenda. “I heard that,” she said.

  “I’ll be right down,” Dwight said, and ended the call. He started toward the door, Brenda close behind him.

  “I’m coming with you,” she said.

  “Brenda—”

  “I’m in charge of the museum. And I agreed to take Parker on as a volunteer. If he was breaking in, then I need to address this, too.”

  He saw no point in trying to argue with her. “All right,” he said. “Let’s go see what this is all about.”

  * * *

  BRENDA HAD NEVER been in this part of the sheriff’s department—in the level below ground, and the single holding cell outside the booking area. Dwight had escorted her through a maze of locked doors without comment, until they stood outside the small cell where Parker sat, staring out from behind the bars. The young man looked angry, but behind the anger, she detected fear. Fear he was doing his best to hide, but she could see it.

  “Brenda, I swear I didn’t do the things he says,” Parker said.

  “Shut up, punk.” Eddie, who had been talking with Gage at the far end of the booking area, turned to face them, frowning when he saw Brenda. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

  “I’m in charge of the museum,” Brenda said.

  “I’m going to check on a few things,” Gage said to Dwight. “I’ll leave you to look after things here.”

  Dwight nodded, then addressed Eddie. “What happened?”

  “I caught him sneaking around in the alley, trying to pry open one of the windows,” Eddie said.

  “That’s a lie!” Parker said.

  “Quiet,” Dwight ordered. “You’ll have your turn in a minute.”

  “I did my job,” Eddie said. “I cuffed him and brought him in.”

  “Why didn’t you call nine-one-one?” Dwight asked.

  “I didn’t need backup to handle one punk.”

  Brenda balled her hands into fists. If Eddie used that word—punk—one more time, she might have to slap him.

  “You aren’t authorized to arrest anyone, much less bring them in and demand they be put in a cell,” Dwight said.

  Eddie folded his arms in front of his chest. “I made a citizen’s arrest,” he said. “And apprehending a potential thief falls under my duties as security guard at the museum.”

  “He’s lying,” Parker said again, his voice less strident, more pleading.

  “I’d like to hear Parker’s side of the story,” Brenda said.

  Dwight turned to Parker. “All right, let’s have it.”

  “I was driving home from delivering a pizza down the street from the museum. I saw this guy—” He pointed to Eddie. “He was sitting in a Jeep that was parked alongside the museum, in that alley. He was talking to another guy, in a black SUV.”

  Eddie leaned toward them, clearly about to object. Dwight held up a hand to stop him. “Let him continue.”

  “This afternoon, when I left the museum, I could tell Brenda was uncomfortable with this guy—Eddie—being there,” Parker said. “I thought I should make sure he wasn’t causing trouble.”

  Eddie laughed. “Oh, you’d know trouble, wouldn’t you?”

  Parker glared at him, then continued. “I wanted to hear what he and the guy in the SUV were talking about. I tried to get close enough to hear, but I tripped over some garbage and he heard me. The guy in the SUV took off and Eddie tackled me and held a gun to my head and demanded to know what I was doing there. He threatened to shoot me.”

  “Drama queen,” Eddie said. “He’s making that up. Wants you to feel sorry for him.”

  “Wh
o was in the SUV?” Dwight asked Eddie.

  “The mayor stopped by to see how things were going,” Eddie said. “He knew Brenda was upset with me being there. We heard somebody rattling around in the alley and I ran back and caught Parker here trying to pry open a window. I figure he was going to steal some stuff to sell.”

  “No! I didn’t try to break in,” Parker said. “Go look for yourself. You won’t find my fingerprints anywhere.”

  “You were probably wearing gloves,” Eddie said.

  “Then where are they now?” Parker asked.

  Eddie shrugged. “You probably threw them away.”

  “Then they’d be in the alley, wouldn’t they?”

  “Eddie, did you threaten Parker with a gun?” Dwight asked.

  “Of course not. I know better than that.”

  Brenda didn’t believe him. Eddie wouldn’t look Dwight in the eye—instead, his gaze kept darting to Parker.

  “Look at my face.” Parker pressed his cheek up against the bars. “You can see the bruises and cuts from where he pushed my face into the gravel.” He turned to display the other cheek. “And there’s a mark on this side where he held the gun barrel.”

  Brenda and Dwight leaned forward to view the faint round cut. “That could be from a pistol,” Dwight said.

  “The punk threatened me,” Eddie protested. “I had a right to use force.”

  “You need to leave now, Eddie,” Dwight said. “I’m going to take you upstairs and I’ll deal with you later.” He glanced at Brenda. “Will you be all right for a few minutes?”

  “Of course.”

  Eddie opened his mouth, then closed it again. He followed Dwight to the first locked door, but before Dwight could unlock it, it opened, and another deputy escorted Paige Riddell inside.

  “What is going on?” Paige demanded. Then she saw Parker in the cell and rushed over to him.

  “Rich, take Eddie upstairs and see him out,” Dwight said.

  “I didn’t do anything,” Parker said. “I was trying to help.”

 

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