“It’s a great job, but I want more. I loved designing it, so I’ve been taking college courses at night. As of this month, I’m officially an architect.”
“Hey, congratulations, man.” Matt stood and they clinked cups through the bars. “You going to stop working at the Heritage Center?”
“Not yet. Not until I get work as an architect. With luck, I’ll get something in Denver and commute or work from home on the computer.” Salem took a gulp of his coffee. “Didn’t they teach you how to make a decent cup of coffee in the city?”
“Yeah, but White will only buy the cheap stuff.”
They didn’t say much more, but it helped to have another human being nearby. Even just hearing Matt’s steady breathing eased the darkness inside Salem, which was a good thing because as much as he knew he was innocent, Salem also knew that people had been convicted on less than they had on him, especially with someone like Sheriff White out to get him.
The worst part was that Salem could never tell the truth, that he suspected he knew exactly who had killed Caleb. Never in a million years would he turn that man in.
* * *
EXCITED ABOUT HER new business venture, Emily had booked lessons through the whole weekend. As soon as the townspeople had heard she was teaching music, they’d started booking appointments for their kids.
This morning, all she wanted to do was to see Salem at the sheriff’s office, to give him hope, to reassure him that she wouldn’t let this rest until she’d set him free. But she had to honor her commitments here first.
Tori dropped Mikey off on Saturday morning. He brought a rented tenor sax with him, from which he managed to wrench some truly god-awful squawks. Emily shared a rueful grin with Violet, who sat in the corner listening.
She learned how hard it was to teach embouchure to a ten-year-old boy who couldn’t care less what he was supposed to do with his lips. He just wanted to make noise.
She got out her iPod and put it into the small stereo system she’d bought.
“Okay, listen, Mike. Playing saxophone isn’t a free-for-all. This is what you get if you learn how to play properly.”
She selected the song she’d been looking for and soon Bruce Springsteen’s “Born to Run” was blaring from the speakers. Emily fast-forwarded to Clarence Clemons’s sax solo in the break.
Mikey’s eyes lit up and he blew into the sax in his hands, turning Clarence’s sublime notes into duck calls.
Emily bent over laughing until tears streamed down her cheeks, and wasn’t that great. After last night’s tension, she needed this.
One way or the other, she was getting Salem out of that jail cell. In the meantime, she’d enjoy children trying to massacre classic songs with too much enthusiasm.
Mikey bounced on the balls of his feet. “I want to hear more.”
Emily played the sax solo at the end of “Thunder Road.”
“So, do you want to learn to play like that?”
Mikey nodded so hard, his hair curtained his forehead.
He put the sax to his lips and another duck call rang through the tiny building. Otis flew to the farthest corner.
“What’s that?”
“That’s a bat. His name is Otis.” Emily launched into a short lecture about bats.
Mikey nodded and smiled. “Cool.” When his mom picked him up an hour later, he said, “Bye, Emily and Mrs. Gendron, thanks. Bye, Otis.”
There was a lot to be said for enthusiasm.
* * *
SOMEONE NAMED IRIS had booked a violin lesson in the afternoon. She had registered by phone, so Emily was surprised when Iris turned out to be the girl from Aiyana’s class who’d cried while listening to Emily play. If she learned to play with that same depth of emotion, she would be a force to be reckoned with.
The violin Iris pulled out of a brand-new case was also new. Iris obviously thought she was committing to the long haul.
She noticed Emily’s look. “I fell in love with the violin the day you played it. I won’t quit until I can play that well. You’ll see.”
By the grit in her tone, and the determination in her expression, Emily believed her.
“Besides, my dad was so happy I showed interest in something for the first time in two years, he would have bought me a piano if I’d asked for it.”
Wow, didn’t that say a lot about Iris’s state of mind, and of how much her father loved her.
The first thing Emily noticed was that Iris didn’t like to be touched. In fact, she flinched when Emily came too close in an attempt to show her how to hold the instrument properly. Emily handled her gingerly.
The second thing she noted was a pair of hands that looked like war zones, ragged fingernails chewed to the quick, and hangnails picked until bloody.
Emily remembered how Iris had clenched those hands so tightly her knuckles had turned white, the color of the bones apparent through her thin skin.
Everything about her brittle, Iris lacked an average girl’s fluidity and playfulness. Along with passion, a lot of music was about just having fun. Emily doubted Iris was ever going to just have fun. The music, for Iris, was about healing.
Emily was no psychiatrist, but part of her lessons with Iris was going to have to involve gleaning clues about what happened to her.
Emily skirted that issue for now. It wasn’t her place to pry. The music would do the healing, not any words of wisdom Emily might impart.
She managed to convey to Violet with one glance that she shouldn’t sit in on this lesson. Violet stood. “I’m going to put on a pot of tea, Emily. Join me when you finish this lesson.”
After she left, Emily warned Iris how long a process it was to learn how to tease beauty out of a stringed instrument. “You won’t hear anything pleasant for a while, but we’ll start today, and that’s all that matters. What I need from you is a commitment to practice at home.”
“I can do that. I spend a lot of time in my room.”
Wasn’t that sad? Oh, but so familiar to Emily. Been there. Done that. Concentrate on the positive, Emily. “Let’s get started.”
As she’d feared, Iris left frustrated. “The violin isn’t easy, Iris, but it is worth the effort.”
“I could tell by the way you played it. I’ll practice. I promise.”
* * *
EMILY DIDN’T MAKE IT to the sheriff’s office until after five that evening. Because it was Saturday, she was hoping to catch one of the deputies in the office without the sheriff.
Matt Breslin had seemed sympathetic, and willing to let her see Salem. Unfortunately, when she arrived, the deputy on duty was Brent Hammond. She turned herself inside out pleading with him to let her see Salem. No go.
Ten minutes later, the sheriff walked in. How on earth he knew she was here flummoxed her. Hammond hadn’t called him, but he’d let White know somehow. Did they have an emergency button under the desk, like in banks in case of robbery?
“I told you he wasn’t allowed visitors.” White moved to stand between her and the hallway with his arms crossed over his chest.
Emily challenged him. “This is only meant to be a holding cell. Why didn’t you transfer him to the county jail where he would have a larger cell and a shower?”
“County jail’s full,” White intoned.
Emily didn’t believe it for a minute. “This whole procedure is ludicrous.”
The sheriff wanted to keep Salem close, under his control, as a way to intimidate him and to show who was boss. Maybe, too, White wanted to keep the evidence of his own bad behavior under wraps. The fewer people who saw Salem for the next week until his bruises healed, the better for White.
“There are laws in this country that even law enforcement officials have to follow.” Emily pointed at White. “Even you.” She nodded at Hammond. “And you.
There are consequences for breaking the law.” She went through the sequence again. “Even for you. And you.”
“Salem tripped when he got out of the squad car. That’s how he hurt his face.”
“And us? The witnesses?”
“All you saw was a man on the ground. You never saw me hit him.”
“Four of us saw you with your foot hauled back ready to give him a kick in the ribs.”
“But you didn’t see me kick him.”
“Why were you parked down the side road to begin with? There was no reason to stop. You were supposed to be going to town.”
“Your boy needed to take a whizz.”
“That couldn’t wait until you got here?”
“Said he had to go bad.”
“You’re full of crap.”
White hovered close. “You watch your step. You can be thrown into jail just as easily as Salem was.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“Did you hear a threat, Deputy Hammond?”
“No, boss.”
Emily lifted her cell phone to her ear. She’d had it in her hand and turned on the whole time. “Did you hear all of that, Dad?” When White realized he’d been overheard, his face contorted. Good. Let him fill with the same rage she’d carried since he had arrested Salem last night.
“Every word,” her father said from the other end of the line. “Now get the hell out of there and let the lawyers handle it. I haven’t yet found one who isn’t booked solid for the week, but White won’t know that. I’ll keep looking.”
“I should be home in about ten minutes. If I’m not, come to the sheriff’s office to make sure I’m okay.”
Disappointed that they still didn’t have a lawyer, she pasted on a poker face, turned off her phone and left without a backward glance, not giving a flipping fig what the sheriff thought of her tricks.
Just after eleven that night, Emily sat in Laura’s car on Main Street across from the sheriff’s office. The night had turned chilly and she shrugged into a sweater she’d brought with her. She had come back to watch the schedule the deputies kept and was over-the-moon happy that Hammond had gone home when Deputy Breslin’s shift started for the night a half hour ago.
An hour later, when the front door of the office opened, Emily hunkered down in her seat so Matt wouldn’t see her. He left on foot, walking his beat. Once he was far enough down Main that he wouldn’t notice her, Emily scooted across the street and tested the door. Unlocked.
Emily slipped inside and closed the door behind her without making a sound. A small desk lamp cast a lonely glow around a tiny portion of the office. The rest of the place was as dark as a cave.
She approached the turn in the hallway from which Matt had emerged earlier when Emily had been questioning the sheriff.
“Salem?” she whispered.
She heard rustling from farther down the hall. “Emily?”
“Yes.” She found her way carefully toward the voice.
“What are you doing here? Did Matt let you in?”
She found her way by following the sound of his voice. “No, I waited until he left to do his rounds. The man is too trusting. He left the front door unlocked.”
“This is a small town, Emily. We trust each other here. Or used to.”
“Man, it’s dark.”
“White doesn’t allow lights back here after ten, and there are no windows.”
“The man’s a sadist. How are you holding up?”
For a long, long time, he said nothing.
“Salem?”
“I’m doing fine, Emily.”
He wasn’t. She could hear it in his voice. This was a man who loved the outdoors, who revered nature. It had to hurt like hell to be stuck in this small space where the air was stale and darkness complete. She gripped the bars of his cell.
“I’m going to get you out of here, Salem.”
He didn’t respond.
“I mean it. I’m getting you out of here and I’m going to keep you with me forever. No more of our wimpy fooling around. You and I belong together. We’re going to get together and stay together.”
Still no response.
“Salem, come here. I want to touch you. To hold your hand.”
“No, Emily. Get out of here.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want you to see me like this, caged like an animal. Stay away.”
“I can’t. I need to know you’re okay.”
“Fine. I’m okay.”
He’d tried to make himself sound stronger. It hadn’t worked. Emily could still hear the despair below the fake confidence.
“Salem. Please. Come here.”
He stood and made his way to the bars. Gripping them, he shook the door but groaned when it refused to yield. “This is killing me, Emily.”
Fumbling, she found his cheek. She wished she could see him clearly, as more than just this shape in the darkness. He exhaled roughly and took her hand in his, hurting her fingers with his hard grip. When he whispered her name, it sounded like both an imprecation and a plea.
He touched her face through the bars and leaned forward. Somehow, they managed to find each other’s mouths, a simple chaste meeting of their lips because the space between the bars was too narrow for the blending and delving and oblivion they really craved. It would have to do. Salem rested his mouth on hers for long silent moments of pure bliss.
In this desperate situation, Emily couldn’t deny what she felt for Salem. She would do anything to get him out of here, but for now she would savor his touch in this wasteland.
She’d craved his kiss for years, but had never imagined their first one would be like this. It wasn’t enough, but she would take it.
He drew away slowly. “I needed to touch you, but I need you to stay away, too. Don’t come see me in the daylight. Please. I don’t want you to see me, here, like this. It’s...”
“Undignified.”
“Yes.”
“That’s White’s point.”
“Salem?” Damn. Deputy Breslin had returned. “Are you talking to yourself back there?”
“No, Matt, it’s me.” Emily figured she might as well be open. Was she going to crouch back here like a criminal waiting until the next time he went on rounds so she could leave?
“Emily?” Matt rounded the corner and turned on the lights. Emily blinked. Thankfully, Salem had let go of her and sat on the cot on the far side of the cell. Smart man.
“Sorry, Matt. Sheriff White wouldn’t let me in to see Salem earlier. I wanted to talk to him, to tell him what we’ve been doing to get him out of here. It isn’t right that White hasn’t let anyone visit, not even his children.”
“You shouldn’t have done this, Emily. I guess there’s a reason why the sheriff didn’t let anyone, especially his daughters, come.” He nodded his head toward Salem.
When Emily saw Salem’s face, she gasped. His injuries looked so much worse than the glimpses she’d caught of them on the side road, his face swelling and turning color. His beautiful high cheekbones were black and blue. The gorgeous lips she’d just been kissing were split. One eye was swollen shut. He looked like he’d gone a few rounds in a boxing ring. White had obviously got in more than one punch before they’d arrived to stop him. It must have hurt to have her touch him, but Salem hadn’t said a word, had behaved as though it was wonderful.
“Can you see anything out of your left eye, Salem?”
Angrily, he said to Matt, “Get her out of here. I didn’t want her to see me like this.”
Rage boiled through her. “I’m glad I did. It fires me up even more to get you out of here.”
She turned on the deputy. “Surely you don’t think what Sheriff White did was right? Beating up on a prisoner?”
“No, I don’t. I would have stopped him if I’d been there.”
“Which is exactly why White sent you on ahead and kept Hammond with him.”
“Yeah. Brent’s father is a friend of White’s. They get along well. Brent wouldn’t do anything to damage that friendship.”
“I meant what I said. I’m going to sue White for this. Have criminal charges brought against him.”
“You do what you have to do, Emily. White’s not a completely bad guy, but he’s got his blind spots. His son is one of them. I heard what Salem did, calling the kid out in front of his basketball buddies. White didn’t like that at all.”
“No, I guess not, but it had to be done. I have a feeling that boy’s gotten away with murder in this town.” Emily flinched when she unwittingly used that phrase in front of Salem.
He didn’t seem to notice, seemed to have pulled back inside himself once Matt turned on the lights and Emily got a look at his face.
“I’ll head home now, Salem. Matt, I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention this visit to the sheriff.”
“Of course not, Emily, but don’t do it again. It puts me in a really rough spot.”
“I can see that. Sorry.” She turned to say good-night to Salem, but he’d lain down with his back to them, and Emily left quietly. She really had no words of wisdom for him, and any she tried to offer would probably be rebuffed.
* * *
ON SUNDAY EVENING after the joy of another day of teaching music, commingled with her terrible worry about Salem, Emily entered his house with her arms full of groceries.
Aiyana had called to ask her to stay here a few days. Her grandfather had gone to the reservation to consult with the elders about Salem’s predicament, and to pray.
Aiyana sat in the living room with Alyx and Sophia.
“Hi,” Emily said, happy to see that Aiyana had friends over. “Where’s Mika?”
“She has a sleepover at her friend’s down the street. It will be good for her. A distraction. I think that’s why the parents invited her.”
“Makes sense. Very kind of them. Are you girls hungry? I picked up nacho fixings.”
Always Emily Page 20
