J.M. leaped to his feet. “This is absurd. It’s an outrage.”
“Do you mind? You’re spitting on my desk.” Elias moved a single file to the opposite corner of the otherwise empty desk.
Red-faced, J.M. sat back down. “How would you like a visit with some real cops? I do still know people in Austin.”
“Anyone who’ll return your call before happy hour?”
Sasha closed her eyes. She hadn’t believed things could get worse, but J.M. was managing. The mention of bringing in additional law enforcement personnel alone almost had her breaking into a sweat. Of course, he couldn’t know how that move would ricochet back and hurt her, but what a bitter irony that he was creating the very situation he’d warned Elias might.
“I understand you’ve had a good deal of illegal alien traffic,” she said, hoping to redirect J.M.’s so-called strategy. She was concerned about the excitable man’s coloring as well, suspecting that he suffered from high blood pressure. All she needed was for him to have a stroke or heart attack. With her luck, Elias would try to pin that on her, too. “I was also informed that the residents of Bitters are less than welcoming.”
“If your fences were repeatedly cut, your property vandalized, your animals—including pets—stolen for food or butchered out of spite or for intimidation, you wouldn’t lay out any welcome mat, either.” The skin across Elias’s cheekbones tightened and anger obliterated the laughter in his eyes. “Of course, I don’t expect someone named Diaz to acknowledge there even is a problem. For all I know, a load of wetbacks is why you’re in town in the first place. I wonder what we’d find if we looked inside that van of yours.”
The accusation made her grateful that she’d followed her instincts last night and brought her things into Gray’s guest room. At the same time, she dealt with the repeated blow that Anna’s name wasn’t proving the safety shield she’d hoped.
J.M. bought her time by declaring his outrage. “Do you have any idea what a prejudicial statement you’ve just made? Such reckless outbursts from someone wearing a badge is unconscionable.”
“Sue me. Better yet, save yourself the money and hold a town meeting and just see how many folks agree with me.”
Drawing a slow breath, J.M. brought his hands together until the fingertips were touching. “Let’s keep this focused,” he said as though calming himself first and foremost. “You have, at best, a nominal witness to an alleged arson—”
“The goddamn brush didn’t walk to the steps on its own!”
“—who you’re denying the right to make her statement,” J.M. concluded in the full righteousness of a Baptist preacher.
“You call her a witness. I’m not sure what I’d call her yet.”
“Because you’re trying to cover up your assault—”
“Watch it, J.M.”
“Then explain what happened, Frank.”
The younger man pointed into J.M.’s face. “You don’t talk to me that way. I am the chief of police.”
“Would that have exempted you from using a condom?”
“You son of a bitch.” Elias lunged forward, sending J.M. scooting his chair back in sheer terror. Checking himself, he cursed again and flicked spilled coffee off his fingers. “Have you taken a look at the church?” he demanded.
“No.” J.M. shifted back into place, but everything about him remained cautious.
“There’ll be no services on Sunday or any Sunday in the near future, and the people who worshiped there deserve to know who did this to them and why.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more,” J.M. replied, “but what does that have to do with Ms. Diaz? Her only crime is being on the wrong road at the wrong time…a fact, I might add, she made no attempt to hide.”
“Clever, don’t you think? Admitting to being at the scene of the crime. A perfect contradiction to the theory that the guilty never confess they’ve done anything wrong?”
“Brilliant. And along the way she also sees the value of running over a dog, never mind the danger that also presented to her own person, and then again risks injury to herself to rescue and carry the poor beast to the clinic. You’re right, Frank. This woman isn’t just clever, she’s diabolical. Lock her up immediately.”
Elias chuckled. “Can I get that in writing?”
“Oh, for…” J.M. pushed his hat back off his forehead, now beaded with perspiration. “What you need is some kid to steal another tractor and get it stuck in a muddy stock pond. That’s about the limit to your sleuthing ability. Now, Ms. Diaz is still willing to give you that written statement you think you have to have. Let her do that, and we’ll be on our way.”
“And if I say no?”
It was all Sasha could do not to get up, walk out and head straight for her van. She must have made some involuntary movement, because she glimpsed J.M.’s hand beneath the edge of Elias’s desk motioning for her to be still.
“You’d better elaborate,” J.M. said.
“How about that I haven’t even done the simplest file search on her yet?” He shifted his gaze to Sasha and his grin grew more challenging. “You have your ID on you?”
“I’m afraid not.” She had intentionally left her purse behind for exactly this reason.
“When you get a minute, bring it over.”
The knot in her stomach was expanding by the minute and threatening to burst through her diaphragm. Afraid it showed, she let more of her revulsion show. “Now who’s being clever? Are you so afraid I’ll file charges against you that you want to know how to find me in case I succeed in costing you your job?”
Looking neither guilty nor worried, Elias countered, “I’m not going to lose my job. And you forget, I don’t have to wait for your license. I can run a check on your van plates.”
“Do it.” Her bravado was risky, but chances were the data on the sale wasn’t in the computer yet. At least she hoped the used-car salesman she’d dealt with was as inefficient about filing the information as some she’d known back in Vegas.
J.M. stood and balanced his weight by his fingertips on Frank’s desk. “This is getting embarrassing, Frank, although it’s increasingly clear you don’t recognize that. Don’t force me to humiliate you completely.”
“Yeah, you’re doing such a good job impressing your client so far, she’s defending her own rights better than you are.”
J.M. smiled grimly. “I’m aware you think I’m pathetic. But do you know why that amuses me? Because we’re really so much alike. The only difference is that I know who I am and admit it. You, on the other hand, think you’ve got this town and everyone in it by the balls. But you’re wrong. Harass this young woman,” he continued, nodding to Sasha, “and I promise you that I will have the last word.”
“That’s quite a threat for a drunk headed for the financial sewer.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t take hearsay as gospel,” J.M. replied. “My pockets are a little deeper than my niece fears. What she should be worrying about is if she’s still in my will at all.”
“I can’t wait to share that threat with her.”
“Maybe she needs to hear about what happened to Ms. Diaz, as well. You’ve been testing good Baptist tolerance long enough, Frank. We may tend to be hypocrites here in Bitters, but never doubt that we are expert at being righteous ones apt to rise up for the most self-serving reasons.”
Frank’s narrow-eyed gaze drilled into him. “What’s between me and Gerri Rose is none of your business.”
“If we were drinking buddies, and you were half as good at your job as you think you are, and I didn’t feel so goddamn sorry for Pike, I might agree with you,” J.M. countered. “As it is, I’m thinking Gerri Rose might be compelled to worry about her health, if not her reputation, if she knew where you gutter around when she’s not available.”
“You know what she’ll tell you?” Elias sneered. “Anytime she gets with me is better than whatever Timmy can offer.”
“Spoken like a teenager in a pissing contest. It would serve you bet
ter to think where you’ll go if you’re sent packing from here. The only place that will have you will be another three-cop town. And how long will you hang on there before they realize their mistake? You won’t have your family’s history to fall back on as you do here. No one will cut you slack because they remember your parents with fondness.”
Red-faced, this time Frank didn’t check himself. Seeing what he intended, Sasha and J.M. ducked as he sent the mug of coffee sailing across the room.
The projectile shattered against the door marked Rest Room, and as coffee streamed down the beige wall, Frank snarled, “That’s enough. You want a lesson in threatening, old man?” Frank hitched his chin toward Sasha. “Make your statement, and you can do what you want…in the area.” He smirked at her disbelieving stare. “Yes, in town, until the investigator from the insurance company does his bit. He’s supposedly on his way. So you see? If you’d quit riding my ass, you could be out of here this afternoon.”
“At which time you’ll think of another reason to delay me,” she muttered.
His irreverent grin returned as he passed a pad and pen over to her. “That’s always a possibility. And remember…I still want to see your license.”
13
When Sasha left the police station less than five minutes later, she bruised the palm of her hand hitting the bar across the glass door. Whatever doubts she’d had about this morning, the results were ten times worse. Furious and more frustrated than ever, she couldn’t wait to be out of earshot of the station.
“It could have gone a lot worse,” J.M. said, his subdued manner suggesting otherwise.
She jerked to a stop. “Excuse me? Want to share your idea of how?”
“Legally, he has the right to hold you for forty-eight hours. I didn’t want to say anything earlier so as not to worry you.”
Sasha knew that, but he would have needed more substantial evidence. By the time the insurance investigator was through, he would probably have it. Damn, she thought, she’d expected the assault to work in her favor and cancel that concern. Only J.M. had let that offense vanish from the table like morning dew on summer grass.
“The man was practically doing a ‘I’m the king of the world’ dance as we left. He’s probably ripping up my statement this very second.”
“He won’t go that far,” J.M. assured her.
“Excuse my lack of gratitude, but thanks to you, I’m in more trouble than ever.”
J.M. grimaced. “Maybe the banter did sound as though it got out of hand at times, but really—”
Sasha pointed toward Gray’s house. “Did anything I said earlier stick with you?”
“It’s the license you’re worried about,” J.M. replied. “I understand. But take it from me, Frank isn’t a dishonest cop. He doesn’t have ambition or the guts. He’s lazy, Anna.”
As far as Sasha was concerned, J.M. should be barred from making any further character assumptions. His liquid indulgences had corrupted his ability to read human nature on any consistent level. “If he is, that dressing-down you gave him just cured him, at least where I’m concerned. So unless the new space station decides to drop on Bitters or someone strolls down Main Street with a written confession—and I think the odds are dead even on that—he’s going to press me for that ID. And you know what, J.M.? That’s not the worst of it.” She rubbed at her forehead. “The goal was for you to make sure I’d be free right now, free to get the hell out of here.”
“I’m sorry. It was his indifference to Gerri Rose knowing about him that threw me,” J.M. admitted, bowing his head. “As much as I disliked the idea, I thought he cared about her. She’s so much younger than the other women he’s shown interest in. I thought he would protect the relationship. Her. But I can see now, it’s all about his ego. She’s just another score to him.”
Denial. Sasha had seen it too often in her several years as a cop, and it never got easier to witness. “I didn’t have to spend more than five minutes in Frank Elias’s presence before I recognized that he’s the lowest grade of alley cat. Snap out of it, J.M.”
As she turned to leave, he touched her arm, his expression sheepish. “I’ll go see Ike—the insurance agent,” he explained. “He should know more about this inspector who’s coming, or at least some specifics on the schedule. Maybe…”
Sasha stopped listening. What she saw over his shoulder made his familial problems nothing compared to hers. In fact, all of her surroundings ceased to exist as she spotted the Chevy Suburban at the far end of town heading toward her like a big, black dust-covered scorpion.
14
“That…that sounds like a good idea,” Sasha told J.M. She started backing away.
“Wait a second.” J.M. began to follow her. “I’d really like to hear your other perceptions on Frank. His contract comes up soon.”
She had no time to reply. Sasha spun around, heading for the clinic as fast as she could without breaking into an all-out run. Running would attract too much attention, and the Suburban was getting closer, close enough that there was no mistaking it was the one she’d hoped never to see again.
“You’re right again,” J.M. called after her. “Listen, I want you to know, I’m doing your case pro bono. Tell Gray, okay?”
His fee was the least of Sasha’s worries. Grabbing at the front door, she yanked it open, rushed inside and immediately pressed herself against the cooler inside wall.
She shut her eyes, wholly transfixed on sound, but all she heard was the blood pounding in her ears. Stop it, she willed. She had to be able to hear.
Less than a half minute later, the Suburban was directly in front of the clinic, and to her it sounded as loud as a tank. Were they slowing? Stopping? Her van in the back…they must have spotted it. Heaven help her, she didn’t have her gun, nothing with which to defend herself.
“That cinder block withstood a small tornado. You don’t have to help hold it up.”
Opening her eyes, Sasha saw Gray at the opposite end of the room by the hallway. For once his imposing presence provided relief as she realized that, if he was facing the two large windows and didn’t appear to be noticing anything out of the ordinary, the Suburban must have continued on by. It was only then that she also realized there was no one else in the reception area. In fact, it was so quiet there didn’t seem to be anyone in the building at all.
“Tornado…” Hearing how thin her voice sounded, she cleared her throat. “That’s stretching things, don’t you think?”
“The National Weather Service agrees with you. Therefore, the insurance company refused to pay, much to old Manny Gutierrez’s disappointment.”
Sasha both envied and resented his calm, but she tried to match it hoping to keep Gray’s focus off of why she’d behaved so oddly. “And he was…?”
“A handyman at one of the spreads around here. He’d hoped to use the storm as an excuse for driving through that plate-glass window on your right.”
He nodded as though wanting her to take a look. She did, although she experienced a sudden kinship with a mouse being toyed with by a big cat. At least looking gave her the opportunity to see there was no vehicle out there.
“He said the wind literally picked his foot off the brake pedal and pushed it onto the accelerator, shooting him straight inside,” Gray continued. “Of course, Manny was also legally blind, but too proud to wear glasses.”
“Not an uncommon dilemma with the elderly.”
“That’s what I’ve heard.” Without missing a beat, he added, “You okay?”
“I’d feel better if it was twenty degrees cooler.”
“Actually, I’m thinking you look a little…hounded.”
“I suspect that’s the standard reaction for anyone who’s spent time around Elias.”
Grunting an affirmative, Gray’s gaze shifted to the windows again, first the one on the right this time, then the one on the left. “Speaking of, where’s J.M.?”
“Gone to talk to someone named Ike. The insurance guy.”
> “Ike Jarrett. Why?”
She wasn’t sure she could explain the disaster that had happened next door. “It appears that the insurance company is sending an inspector to look at the church. J.M. is trying to appease me by finding out when.”
“It didn’t go well.” Gray’s intent study reflected more understanding. “No wonder you look like what breakfast you did eat isn’t agreeing with you.”
“For the record, your old friend may be a sweet guy, and a terrific drinking companion, but on a professional level, I’d have been better off if you’d missed him this morning.” Taking a chance, Sasha stepped away from the wall in order to pretend to inspect her surroundings, and risked another glance outside. The empty street had her drawing a deep breath in relief.
“You’re not free to go?”
She exhaled. “In no way, shape or form. I’m to stay put while Elias hopes for the insurance guy to find something to further incriminate me.”
“Of all the hare-brained…” Gray butted his fist against the doorjamb. “You weren’t allowed to make your statement?”
“Sure. But by the time he let me, the gesture was equivalent to a pat on the fanny.”
“What about Anna Diaz’s license?”
“He wants it. What he wants more is for me to bring it to him. What I can’t believe is that he hasn’t run the van plates through the system yet. Don’t think I’m not appreciative, but the guy’s a gift to the criminal world.”
“Can’t argue with you there. He graduated second from the bottom in his class. Fortunately, crime in Bitters amounts to someone writing one too many hot checks, or some kind of domestic dispute. He’s been lucky that when he does botch something, it only affects one or two people, so most folks don’t pay attention.”
“Well, I suspect he’ll be more energetic about turning up the heat under me if only to pay me back for bringing J.M. into the picture.”
“Sorry about that. I thought he would help.”
“In that outfit?”
“Believe it or not, he used to be one of the best. Highly respected in the state.” Crossing his arms over his chest, Gray offered a one-shoulder shrug. “His downfall was his attraction to women who liked his status and money more than him.”
Final Stand Page 9
