********
Zach parked at the side of the Parson County Hospital and strode up the walk to the main entrance. He passed the reception area for the twenty-six bed hospital and the emergency room, only waving at the hospital administrator instead of chatting. He had an internet picture of Leia Shae in his inside pocket. He’d be positive once he took another look at her, but that was really just a redundancy. It was her. He was about to get first-hand knowledge of a media storm that he’d previously only seen in papers and depicted in movies.
He stopped at the nurse’s station and swallowed against a tide of acid and rage. This was a small tourist town. It was off the map for most people unless they skied, fished, or hiked and Zach liked it that way. So did most of the town folks. He had enough headaches with people who were careless and adventurous. He didn’t need the thousands of questions that were going to come his way, some he couldn’t even imagine. Damn the woman for stopping in his jurisdiction. Forty miles on down that road she’d have been in the next county and someone else’s problem.
Dr. Erin Jude sat behind the counter studying a file in front of her. Doc was an Amazon of a woman, six feet tall with black hair braided down her back, who was always either in jeans and a flannel shirt or hospital scrubs. Today it was green scrubs. She jokingly claimed to be part Aztec. She could be part Martian for all he cared. She was a damn fine doctor, which he knew from personal experience, and the town was lucky to have her.
She closed the file and looked up at him. “Hey Sheriff, want the results on our guest?”
He braced himself for the worst. “Give me the bad news.”
“Not really so bad. She was only at a .04 blood alcohol content, so not legally intoxicated.”
“Then what the hell was going on?”
“She had two glasses of champagne and no food, according to her, then took some over the counter cold medication which she seems to be allergic to. She says she pulled over because she couldn’t breathe.”
Zach stifled a sigh. “Seemed to be allergic?”
“This particular cold medication has nine ingredients, any one of which she could be allergic to although I’m guessing it was the dyes. I don’t have any way of confirming which one it is unless I test each ingredient and see which one causes a problem. It’s not cost effective doing that and it could have been a combination of ingredients or combined with alcohol—not a smart idea by the way, and not a single item. She needs an allergist not a country doctor. Easier to tell her not to take the stuff again, which I’ve done.”
Zach rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll tell the judge. He’ll probably drop the charges then. Is she awake?”
She nodded. “She’s been awake, but I think she’s asleep again. She has bronchitis and unless I miss my guess this is the first time she’s slept in days. She looks familiar.”
He left her statement unanswered. “Is she well enough to release?”
“Yes, whenever she wakes again.”
“Fine. Thanks, Doc.”
“You’re not going to tell me who she is, are you?” She stood and put the chart away. “Jane Smith is so overused.”
Zach stifled a laugh. “You’ll probably be able to read about it in the papers tomorrow. In the meantime, trust me. It’s better if that record stays filed under Jane Smith.”
He left her and walked toward the officer sitting in a chair half way down the hall. Drake Winston stood and waited for Zach to get to his side.
“How’s our guest?” Zach searched his pockets for an antacid and came up empty, contemplated going back and asking Doc for one, and decided he didn’t need the questions.
“Sleeping again after Doc finished poking her,” Drake said. “She’s a looker. Reminds me of somebody, but can’t put my finger on who.”
Zach stayed silent for a minute. Drake was as solid as they came. Early thirties with three kids and a fourth on the way, he would take the presence of the woman in stride. Maybe. Zach couldn’t risk it, though. “I’m going to check on her.”
He left Drake outside the door and walked into the room. The first bed was empty, leaving Leia Shae in the room to herself. He was a man who dealt in realities, but he’d give anything if fairies would materialize and make the famous diva poof away.
He gazed across the narrow space. Her head was turned toward the window, an oxygen tube stretched across the bed. She was covered with a white hospital blanket, but toes with killer red nail polish stuck out from underneath the covers. A tattoo on her ankle winked at him—a small yet colorful fairy. Zach snorted. Figured.
“Geezus, don’t let Carlee see that or she’ll nag me for one, too,” he muttered under his breath.
He moved quietly to the other side of the bed. He stifled an automatic need to whistle. She was one damn fine piece of work, all brown hair streaked with sunshine and curves across all the mounds in the blanket. He touched her shoulder and shook her gently. “Leia?”
The woman groaned, her eyes flickered.
“Yeah. Time to wake up and tell me how big a mess I have on my hands. Come on. Open those eyes.” He kept his voice soft, yet strict, like he was dealing with Carlee.
She shoved the blanket away from her face and Zach’s suspicions were confirmed. Her eyes shot open—glazed, but open.
“Who are you?” Her voice was gravelly, hoarse from misuse, so that he barely understood her. “What are you doing in my bedroom?”
“We aren’t in your bedroom, Ms. Shae. You’re in the hospital, in my county.”
“Hospital? Where?” This time she swallowed hard, waited a moment, as if trying to generate enough spit to get her mouth to work properly.
Zach walked around the bed to the pitcher on the bedside table and poured her some water. “Parson County, Colorado. About an hour drive from Denver. I’m Sheriff Zach Murphy. I arrested you.”
She sat up and gaped at him, the blanket clutched to her stomach, the hospital gown sliding off her shoulder. Lesser men would have lapped up the creamy skin, the delicate collarbone, the curve of a full breast. He handed her the water glass and moved to safety at the end of the bed.
“I wasn’t drunk.” She looked at him, her pasty white face stark against the flowered hospital gown. She coughed deeply, swallowed a bit of water, and fussed with the oxygen tube, forcing it off her nose.
“Doc’s test results confirm that. You really should carry ID.” Then he asked the question he already knew the answer to. “You are Leia Shae, right?”
She took a tentative sip before answering. “Leia Shae Daniels.” She reached out a slender, manicured hand for a shake. “Legal name.”
He ignored the outstretched fingers, trusting an innate sense that screamed not to touch her. She let her hand fall to her side, giving him a wary stare.
His insides were going haywire. One side wanted to be tender and supportive. Another side was screaming danger, take her to the county line and dump her. Another side wanted to strip off the gown and take her like only a lover could. “Ever been arrested before?” he asked, attempting to settle himself.
“Never.” She took another sip of water, leaned over again to cough. He could see the moment the situation crystallized for her. She jerked upright. “On my God, this is going to be…”
He rolled his eyes. “A mess?” Yep, she didn’t miss his sarcasm, which nicely covered the nerves that were agitating his stomach.
Her eyes cleared and gazed at him with laser focus. “Call my manager, Cale Bishop. He’ll take care of everything. Are you dropping the charges? What did you charge me with?”
“Public Intoxication, but after what the Doc found I imagine the judge will drop the charges and send you on your way.”
“I remember pulling over and stopping. I didn’t feel too good, couldn’t get in a full breath, had hives on my hands.” she muttered, looking down at blotches across her arms.
“You pulled over in the parking lot of the Lazy Ace, Parson Corners’ only bar. Your car was running, you smelled of alcohol, a
nd you were passed out and had no purse or ID. After I got you to the jail, you focused enough to be booked, but couldn’t give me your name. I got concerned when your breathing got a tad choppy and I brought you to the hospital.”
“Someone spilled a drink on me at the after party.” She rubbed her hands together as if cold.
“The after what?”
“The after-concert party in Denver. I had an argument with Derek—my ex-boyfriend, didn’t feel like socializing, and took off. I didn’t realize I’d driven so far.” She swept a hand through her hair and looked up at him. If anything, she’d paled further, her eyes taking on a sheen that suggested tears weren’t far away. “Call my manager. He’ll handle everything.”
The tears didn’t appear, but the sad, hopeless look in her eyes wrenched his gut. “Phone number?”
“On my cell phone, under Cale. You do have my phone don’t you?”
“Yes. In your possessions.” Which all would be under his supervision as soon as he went back to the office and claimed them from the lockup.
“He’ll keep things quiet, I promise,” she whispered.
“I hope so—for your sake and mine. Doc said she’d release you this afternoon. I’ll be back to pick you up. Your car is still in the parking lot at the Lazy Ace.” Zach walked out of the room, released Drake from duty and pretended not to hear her “Oh God, what have I done?”
Zach mulled over his next step on the way to the office. They were too numerous and varied and gave him a headache. Prosecuting Attorney. Judge. Mayor. County Commissioners. Phone calls and more phone calls. He parked between the courthouse and the sheriff’s office and went to the judge’s chambers to see if he was still in. He had to hope that Leia’s manager was as good as her faith in him or Parson Corners was about to get put on the map in a way that made him furious. He liked his little corner of the world quiet and controlled and he felt as if he were teetering on the edge of an explosion that would level his stable existence.
Damn her famous hide anyway.
********
An hour later, Zach opened the back door to the Sheriff’s office and hurried down the hall. He’d spent more time than he wanted talking with the judge and the prosecutor, but finally the paperwork was in motion to drop Leia’s charges, all right and proper.
He didn’t need a television to understand that some people would think they’d swept the charges under the stage because of Leia’s star status. Zach went directly to the secured file cabinet and pulled the master sheet from the top. “Blanche, I need the key to the cabinet.”
“Only thing in there is that girl’s stuff.”
“I know. I want her things. Open the drawer.”
She opened her mouth to question him further, but she was smart enough to be intimidated by the scowl on his face and the memory of the blistering lecture he’d given her earlier about showing Carlee the booking sheet. She retrieved her keys and walked to the cabinet. She eyed him again, as if he might take a bite out of her, then she unlocked the drawer and initialed the sheet to show he’d taken the confiscated items into his possession. She sauntered back to her station, watching him from the corner of her eye.
Not in any mood to give her the satisfaction of knowing why he was taking the possessions, he went down the hall to his office and dumped the two items on his desk—cell phone and keys. No purse or wallet in the car.
How did she pay for the rental car? Or for gas? He powered up the expensive cell phone. No calls. No text messages. No messages period. What exactly did that mean? Nobody was looking for her? No one worried about her? Why?
He flipped through the directory and went far enough to find Cale’s number and write it down, then powered off the phone. He’d just picked up his desk phone to make the call when Blanche came to the door.
“You have a visitor. Man’s name is Cale Bishop.”
Zach dropped the phone back into the cradle. Now wasn’t that just damn convenient.
“Want me to tell him to come back? It is quitting time for you, after all.” Her tone suggested she’d be happy to get him out of her hair.
“No. Show him back.”
“Suit yourself,” she huffed and made her way back to the front of the office.
Zach dumped the cell phone and keys back in the envelope and closed it up. He spent a few long minutes sorting paperwork on his desk, while waiting for Blanche to lead the man to his office. He watched with a cop’s eye as Blanche opened the hall door and led a tall, medium build man in a gray pin-striped suit, white shirt, and burgundy tie to his office.
He reeked like a rich lawyer. His suit was tailored perfectly to his form. His salt and pepper gray hair was sheered close to his head. His tan was deep and golden and there was a diamond winking on his finger. All rolled together, the perception was “I have power, don’t mess with me.” Irritation spiked, stirring his cop ire.
“Sheriff Murphy, Cale Bishop.” Perfunctory introduction finished, she walked slowly back to her office, the need for gossip obvious in the turtle-like movement.
Mr. Bishop stepped forward. “Sheriff. “ He reached to shake Zach’s hand.
Zach registered a firm handshake from soft hands. “What can I do for you?”
“There is a rental car parked in the lot of the Lazy Ace on the edge of town.” Mr. Bishop eased into a chair in front of Zach’s desk, adjusting the crease of his slacks. “A friend of mine rented it and I’ve been trying to contact her. I’m concerned something bad has happened to her.”
He’d been trying to contact her? No messages on her cell phone for missed calls.
The man maintained a long stare, not offering any more information.
“This friend’s name would be?” Zach sat and stretched back in his chair, as casual as a gunslinger.
The man gave him a fake smile. “Well, now I would hope that the name would stay between you and me.”
This time Zach gave him the long stare.
The man didn’t so much as blink. “Do you know who I am?”
Zach knew damn well who the man was and didn’t give a rat’s backside. Let him stew for a minute, thinking he was lording one over on a slow, country sheriff.
The man’s smug expression grated against frustrated nerves, though. Zach tamped down the churning against his breastbone, and wondered when boys learned to play chicken. While this was a tame confrontation, it still had all the earmarks of that juvenile game.
Bishop opened his mouth, no doubt to rub Zach’s nose in how important Cale Bishop was in the universe. Zach beat him to the punch.
“Leia Shae is in the hospital. She asked me to contact you. Consider yourself contacted.” He rose to his feet. “If you give me a few minutes, I’ll bring her here to meet you.”
“What’s she doing in the hospital?” The alarmed tone was just a tad put on.
He gave the man an honest answer. “She was arrested for public intoxication last night. Turns out she was having a severe allergic reaction to some medication she took and she ended up in our hospital.”
“You arrested her?” Bishop rose from his chair, put his knuckles on Zach’s desk and leaned toward him.
Zach didn’t move, irritated by the man’s power play. “Yes. Once we got the results of her tests, we obviously put in motion the paperwork to drop the charges. I’d appreciate it if this could be kept quiet until you’re out of my town.”
Bishop smirked and straightened, fussing with his sleeves. “I can assure you I have no intention of letting anyone know she’s here. Let me make a phone call. I’m sure we can get her out of here with no one the wiser.”
Zach had a hundred questions pounding through his head. He shifted forward in his chair and focused on one. “How did you know she was here? How did you know to look here?”
“Our security force keeps pretty close tabs on her. You understand.” The man gave him a bland smile that raised his hackles.
“I’m not sure I do. Someone followed her?” Sounded more like chased her.
“Someone followed her when she left the party and lost her on the state highway on the west side of Denver. Only so many towns she could have gone to on this road. We’ve been checking them all.”
Zach shook his head. What a way to live, like a supernova in the eye of a telescope. No thanks.
Bishop sat again, precisely pulling his slacks as he sat. “Is there a private place I can make a call to cancel the search and get my media coordinator here for assistance?”
“I was hoping we could avoid the media.” It galled Zach to have to ask for that, but this was his town and his duty to protect it.
“That would be ideal.” Bishop’s smile struck Zach as a tad oily and manipulative, leaving his cop’s intuition clawing at him like rescuing a reluctant cat from a tree.
Zach stood and grabbed his keys. “I’ll get Leia. Use my office. Make your calls.”
Zach needed air. Irritated on behalf of Leia and not really understanding why, he walked out. He asked a deputy to keep an eye on Mr. Slick and went to his truck, calling the hospital to notify them he was coming for Leia before he got out of the parking lot.
The air was crisp for early May, threatening the buds on the trees. The day was dying to dusk and he wasn’t going to be able to have dinner with Carlee.
Dammit.
He hated when his sheriff activities self-destructed their normal routine. He flipped open his cell phone and called Aunt Fiona. Aunt Fiona, his father’s sister, had taken in the four brothers after the death of their parents in a small plane crash. Wyatt had been twelve, Zach ten, Ryder nine, and Beau barely seven. They’d had a rocky road at first, Fiona having lost her husband in the same crash. Zach had more than enough police experience to recognize how lucky they were she’d been willing to take them and the young boys hadn’t ended up in foster care.
“You have reached the charming, witty, infamous Fiona. Your wish is my command. Speak.” Her lilting voice made him smile.
“Hi, Aunt Fiona.”
“Ah, my favorite nephew sheriff.” Her throaty drawl was somewhere between Scarlet O’Hara and Marilyn Monroe. “Your progeny is in a snit.”
Cowboy's Heart (Copper Canyon, Texas) Page 6
