“Where are the men?”
“Benny brought me back. I sent him home. Ken and Fred are still out at the site.”
“For how long?”
“For as long as it takes, Donna.” Mandy didn’t mean to sound exasperated, but all she wanted to do was sit down somewhere dark and let the aspirin do its job.
It was clear she’d ruffled the dispatcher’s feathers. “You know how I like to keep track of my people. Maybe I can’t be out in the field with you, but I can do the best possible job right here.”
“You do a great job, Donna. No one keeps better tabs on this county than you do.”
Relaxing a bit, Donna inclined her head. “Thank you. Shari Compton called. I put her through to your voice mail, and your mother called.”
“Did Mom say what she wanted?”
“No. She just said for you to give her a call when you got the chance.”
Mandy wasn’t looking forward to that conversation. There was no way around it. Her mother was going to hear from someone about the explosion. It would be better coming from Mandy than from some second-or thirdhand source. “Anything else?”
“Nope.”
“The case files on the murder Judy Bowen witnessed should have been here by now. Have you seen it yet?”
“No, I haven’t. You know how those big-city departments can be. They move at the speed of refrigerated molasses.”
“They aren’t usually this slow. Could you please e-mail them a reminder?”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Nodding her thanks, Mandy walked into her office and closed the door. Settling into the padded black chair at her desk, she picked up the phone and listened to her message.
“Sheriff, this is Shari Compton. I’ll be making a home visit to assess Garrett Bowen’s place in the morning. I received a copy of his background check. Thank you. There won’t be a need to have an officer accompany me tomorrow. Mr. Bowen’s visit went very well today. I’ll get a full report back to you in a day or two. Goodbye.”
Mandy chewed the corner of her lip as she pressed the delete button. Because Garrett had one uneventful visit with Colin didn’t mean he was the best option for the child’s future. She had no illusions about the child welfare system. While she didn’t doubt Miss Compton’s intentions or her commitment to the children assigned to her, Mandy knew that like everyone in her office the woman was overworked. She would want Colin’s case settled as quickly as possible.
Mandy’s county didn’t have its own social worker. There simply wasn’t enough money in the state’s budget or people willing to take on the job. When Mandy’s office did have a child in need of care, a worker was assigned from another county. Very few enjoyed the long drive to her town. Sometimes, they didn’t even know how to find Timber Wells.
Colin Bowen wasn’t going to fall through the cracks of the system and end up in a questionable home if Mandy had anything to say about it.
She punched in the numbers to return the woman’s call. When Miss Compton picked up, Mandy got right to the point. “This is Sheriff Scott. I’ll be going with you to the Bowen place tomorrow. What time is our meeting?”
When Garrett answered the knock at his front door the next morning, he’d been home exactly ten minutes. Expecting to see Miss Compton, he tried to hide his surprise at the sight of Mandy standing on his porch.
The sight of fresh bruises on her face brought back sharp memories of his mother.
The thought of someone hurting Mandy the way his mother had been hurt sent a spurt of anger through him. It was followed closely by bitter guilt. Someone had failed to protect Mandy the way he’d failed to protect his mother.
He hadn’t given much thought to how dangerous the sheriff’s job could be. Mandy always seemed in control, as if nothing fazed her. Seeing her now made him more aware than ever that she was a flesh-and-blood woman.
A woman he found himself attracted to in spite of how foolish that was. He pushed aside the thought and schooled his voice into neutrality. “What happened to you?”
“Irate egg timer.”
He stepped back as she walked into the house. “Most people blame it on a door.”
After her eyes swept the room, she turned to face him. “I’m not most people.”
No kidding. Most people didn’t set his pulse racing or make him aware of how empty his life was.
“I was expecting Miss Compton this morning.”
“I’m sure she’s on her way. Don’t mind me, I’m just here as an observer.”
Tipping her head slightly, Mandy subjected him to closer scrutiny than he liked. She said, “You don’t look so good. Tough night?”
His fast trip to the sale barn in Junction City yesterday had resulted in only twenty heads of cattle instead of the promised forty because he’d arrived so late. He’d had to travel on to a second sale in Concordia adding two hundred miles to what should have been a forty-mile trip.
The only good thing was that he got the remaining cattle he needed at a price that would make his client happy. After that, any good luck he still had ran out.
On the way home, his truck died, leaving him stranded twenty miles from nowhere. He’d hitched a ride into the next town and got a tow, but the repair shop owner didn’t have the parts needed to fix it. Garrett had to wait until the local auto parts store opened this morning.
Once he had the Ford running, he’d headed home at top speed. The last thing he’d wanted was to cancel this visit or show up late and maybe lose his chance to get his son.
He ignored Mandy’s comment about his haggard appearance. “So how does this home visit go down?”
“Miss Compton will answer that for you.”
“Do you come along on all her visits?”
“Frequently. Believe it or not, there are people who don’t like social workers.”
“And you think I’m one of them.”
“Did I say that?”
He folded his arms over his chest. “Why are you really here?”
“I want to be satisfied that you can provide a good home for Colin.”
“Isn’t that Miss Compton’s job?”
“I want to be satisfied.”
He glanced around. “I’m not much of a housekeeper.”
She wandered from the entryway into the kitchen. “I don’t see any blatant health violations.”
He tried to view his place through her eyes. The vinyl flooring was old, but it was clean. Wiley made sure every crumb that hit the floor was taken care of. The cabinets were simple pine, but scarred with years of use. The countertops were chipped and stained. Duct tape on one corner held a loose section of edging in place.
He said, “It’s not fancy, but it’s been good enough for me and the dog.”
The question now—would the social worker think it was good enough for his son?
Once again, he tried not to get his hopes up.
Mandy walked toward the rear of the room. Garrett shoved his hands in his pockets and kept his gaze away from the door that led upstairs.
She glanced at him and a subtle change came over her features. His heart hammered in his throat. Did she know he was hiding something?
Another knock signaled the arrival of Miss Compton. Garrett had to turn his back on Mandy to answer it. It was one of the hardest things he’d done in a long time.
Briefcase in hand, the little woman smiled as she greeted him. “Good morning, Mr. Bowen. How are you?”
“Fine.” His mouth was dry as August dust.
She seemed to know it. “Please don’t be nervous.”
Easy for her to say. He managed a smile. “Why don’t we step into the living room?”
“Thank you.” She walked in and took a seat on his sofa.
Garrett looked over his shoulder just as Mandy started to open the bathroom door. “No, don’t do that!”
His warning came too late. Wiley, freed from his temporary holding cell, paused only long enough to sniff Mandy’s boot before making a beeline for
the living room. Garrett tried to intercept him, but the dog evaded capture and launched himself into Miss Compton’s lap.
She pushed ineffectively at the excited animal trying to lick her face. “Oh, no! Bad dog! Get down!”
Garrett rushed to her aid. “Wiley, heel!”
With one last doggy kiss for his new, if reluctant friend, Wiley scrambled off the couch and dropped to his haunches beside Garrett, looking utterly pleased with himself and waiting for praise.
“I’m sorry about that, Miss Compton. He’s not used to company.”
Mandy entered the room, looking sheepish. “I didn’t realize he’d been shut in the room when I opened the door.”
Bending down, Garrett scooped up his pet. “He’ll settle down in a minute.”
Miss Compton brushed at the dog hairs on her black dress. “As I told you at the hospital, I prefer you keep him shut up or outside while I’m here.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Garrett shot Mandy a reproachful look.
Spreading her hands wide, Mandy muttered, “Sorry,” as Garrett walked by.
How was she to know he had his pooch locked up? And for good reason it seemed. She’d seen a look of growing concern on his face when she approached the rear door. It was in her nature to assume he had something to hide.
So what if this time she’d been wrong. It didn’t happen often.
Miss Compton finished plucking lingering bits of fur from her suit, removed a pad of paper from her briefcase and began jotting notes.
When Garrett returned, minus the dog, he took a seat in the wingback chair beside the sofa. Leaning forward, he braced his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. “Wiley won’t be a problem with Colin.”
He looked like a man waiting for the ax to fall.
Mandy hadn’t considered how hard this had to be for him, having strangers judging his fitness to be a father. She’d been concerned only with Colin’s welfare. In spite of her effort to remain impartial, her compassion for Garrett began to grow.
Miss Compton cleared her throat. “I hope you’re right. Let’s begin by my asking you a few questions.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Mandy listened to Miss Compton quiz Garrett on his readiness to assume care of his son and formed a few opinions of her own. Garrett never relaxed, never offered more than he was asked, but he answered everything with a readiness that proved he’d given a lot of thought to what having a child in his home would mean.
After Miss Compton finished with her inquiries, she went over the needs Colin would have and what programs were available to help low-income families. Garrett listened intently, asking few questions of his own.
While Miss Compton was talking about health care, Mandy used the time to study Garrett’s home. The living room was sparsely furnished with a blue floral-print sofa and fake bamboo end tables. The chair he sat in was dark blue, oversized and masculine in style. It was the only piece in the room that seemed to fit his personality. Perhaps Judy had furnished the rest of the room.
Glancing around, Mandy was struck by the lack of family photos and knickknacks in the room. It was almost spartan. Not very homey, but not the worst place she’d seen kids being raised.
When Miss Compton finished her interview, she withdrew another folder from her case and opened it. “If it is all right with you, Mr. Bowen, I’d like to take a quick tour of your home.”
“Okay. What would you like to see?” He didn’t rise.
Miss Compton smiled encouragingly. “For starters, where will Colin sleep?”
“I figured I’d put a crib in here for him.”
“In here?” She looked around.
“Yes, ma’am.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “My bedroom is through that door. I thought, until the boy was older, I should keep him close by so I could hear him at night.”
“That’s good thinking, Mr. Bowen. May I see your kitchen? You’ll want to make sure all your cleaning supplies and chemicals are kept out of reach. I have a pamphlet here on childproofing the house.”
He rose slowly to his feet and led the way to the kitchen. “I’m gonna get that countertop fixed soon.”
“That’s fine.” The social worker moved toward the bathroom door.
Garrett started forward. “I shut Wiley in there again.”
She took a step back. “I see. I’ll take your word for it that you have adequate bathroom facilities. Where do these doors lead?”
Garrett stepped forward and opened the one on the left. “This is the basement. Not much down there but my washer and an old workbench. I reckon I’ll need to get a lock on this door before Colin gets big enough to go exploring.”
“Yes.” She turned around. “And this door?”
He didn’t answer. His body tensed. His eyes darted to Mandy and back to Miss Compton. He pushed his hands deep in his pockets.
“That leads to the upstairs,” he said in a rush. “I only use that part of the house for storage.”
Mandy glanced at the ceiling. “You use the whole upper level for storage?”
“Just one room. The others are empty. I’ll fix it up before Colin gets old enough to need his own room.”
“Mind if I take a look?” Mandy asked.
A shuttered look slipped over his face. “The door sticks. I’ve been meaning to plane it down.”
That wasn’t permission. Mandy chafed at the fact that she couldn’t search any farther without a warrant. Why didn’t he just invite them to explore? Because he was hiding something. Mandy didn’t think it was his bad housekeeping.
“Are we about done?” Garrett asked.
“Are you in a hurry to get rid of us?” Mandy countered.
“Judy’s funeral is this afternoon. I need to leave soon if I’m going to make it.”
Wincing inwardly, Mandy tried not to show it. Wiley began barking from his place of confinement. Garrett looked at Miss Compton. “That means he needs to go out.”
She grimaced. “I believe I have everything I need.”
“Don’t you want to see the upstairs?” Mandy turned the knob hoping to urge Miss Compton in that direction.
She was doomed to disappointment. Miss Compton glanced at her watch. “I see no reason to view unused storage rooms. Mr. Bowen has adequate space in the house. It’s in good repair. I’m satisfied. I really must be going. I have a long drive ahead of me.”
Turning to Garrett, the social worker held out her hand. “You’ll hear from my office officially in a day or two, but I see no reason why Colin can’t be released into your care when he’s able to leave the hospital.”
A genuine smile cracked his features for the first time. His whole body relaxed as he gripped her hand. “That’s great.”
Mandy wasn’t sure she was ready to accept Garrett Bowen at face value. Outwardly everything seemed okay. Her gut told her there was more to the man than met the eye.
Unfortunately, it didn’t tell her how she was going to discover the rest of the story.
The crackle of her radio was followed by Donna’s voice. “Sheriff, are you free?”
“Yes, Donna, what’s up?”
“We got a call about a fertilizer theft out on Range Road.”
Not another one. “That’s on the other side of the county from me right now. Where’s Ken?”
“That’s just it, Sheriff. I can’t locate him.”
SEVEN
Two hours after getting the call that Ken Holt was missing, Mandy faced her errant officer as he shifted nervously from foot to foot in front of her desk. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. His personnel file lay open before her.
She laced her fingers together and prayed for wisdom. “You have a decision to make, Ken.”
“I’m sorry. I had a personal thing come up that I needed to take care of right away. I should have called to let you know, but I thought it would only take a couple of minutes.”
Mandy ignored his rambling excuse and started again. “You have a decis
ion to make, Ken. Either you’re going to be part of this department and conduct yourself accordingly, or you’re going to be looking for work elsewhere.”
“I know I messed up, but I’m a good officer.”
“I used to think so until you started showing up late for work. Your paperwork has gotten sloppy, and now going off the clock without telling anyone where you are, that’s not acceptable.”
“I said I was sorry.”
Closing the file, she rubbed her forehead. “Sorry isn’t good enough, Ken. I need your assurance that when I call for backup, I’m going to get it.”
“You have it,” he insisted quickly.
Opening the bottom drawer of her desk, she searched for and found the form she needed and began to fill it out. “This reprimand constitutes your first written warning, Ken. It will remain part of your permanent record.”
“Is that necessary?”
She looked up sharply. “Yes, it is.”
His gaze shifted to the floor. “Of course.”
“Your pay will be docked for the time you were unavailable, plus you’ll pick up an additional shift this weekend. If your personal problem is something you need to talk about, I’m here to listen. If you need time off, tell me now, and we can work something out.”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
She allowed concern to soften her voice. “All right. I’ll take your word for it, but if you need help, all you have to do is ask.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She finished filling in the details on her paper, then turned it around and slid it across the desk toward him. “You’ll have to read this and then sign it. It states we’ve talked about the following issues.”
He scrawled his name, dropped the pen on her desk and then straightened and stared directly ahead. “Will that be all?”
She nodded knowing she couldn’t do anything to help until he was ready to talk about what was wrong. He turned abruptly and left the room.
Slipping the signed form inside his file, she couldn’t help wishing Ken felt he could confide in her.
“You were kinda rough on him,” Fred said, walking in uninvited.
“He’s a big boy.”
Speed Trap Page 8
