Shelter for Sharla

by Deanndra Hall

  “I was finishing up laundry when you called. Could you help me fold it and put it all away?”

  “Of course. Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”

  Ten minutes later, Carter found himself turning socks and folding panties. Some were Sharla’s and some were obviously Chelsea’s, and for reasons he didn’t understand, that didn’t seem weird to him at all. It seemed … comforting. He was doing domestic things with a woman who made him want to do domestic things with her. He wanted to help her clean up the dinner dishes. He wanted to help her finish up the laundry. He just wanted to be with her.

  At ten before ten, his hand slapped her ass playfully and she laughed aloud. “Time to get ready for bed. You need your rest,” he said, grinning.

  “Yes, officer!” she answered, giving him a fake salute.

  “I’m going out to get my bag. Be back in a second.” He watched as she retreated into the bathroom before he headed out the front door. It wasn’t far to his car, maybe twenty-five feet, and Carter popped the trunk and pulled the duffel out.

  As soon as the lid closed, it hit him―the sensation that he was being watched. Knowing where a pair of eyes might be was nearly impossible, but he certainly didn’t want them to know he could feel them out there. Moving slowly, Carter headed back to the house, listening closely to the sounds around him. He’d almost decided he’d imagined it when he heard it.

  There was a distinct rustling in the bushes across the street, faint but noticeable to his trained ear, and there wasn’t a breeze. He hadn’t imagined it. There really was someone out there watching him.

  But they weren’t. They were watching the house, of that he was sure. No way was he planning to tell Sharla. He’d just keep an eye out, and in the morning when he got up, he’d go straight to the Hopkinsville Police Department and tell them what he suspected. He hoped like hell they’d help him keep an eye on her.

  He was the sheriff of Trigg County. He didn’t want to move to Christian County, but he would if he had to.

  Chapter 5

  Carter felt better, but only a little. When Sharla got up to go to work, he left too, and he sat in his car and kept watch until she pulled out of the drive, but still no sign of anything or anyone amiss.

  Instead of Hopkinsville Police, he went to the Christian County Sheriff’s Department. Sheriff Glen Dowd was an old friend of his, and Carter figured if there was a way to get some eyes on Sharla, Glen would be his best bet. He wasn’t wrong either―Glen had promised him not only to send a guy by while she was home, but to also talk to the police chief in town and see if they’d help out too. Thankfully, Glen said he didn’t need details and that Carter’s request was enough to satisfy him. Carter made a mental note to take his friend out to dinner when the investigation was over and everything was settled.

  It was around eleven when he finally made it to the office, but he didn’t feel bad about it. His officers were able to run things, and he never had to worry. Sure enough, he walked in to find the coffee pot full and everyone out on patrol except Justin Watson, who’d stayed behind to man the office. “Mornin’, sheriff,” he called when Carter stepped through the door.

  “Mornin’, Watson. Anything going on?”

  “Mrs. Davis called and said that man was following her again, so I called her husband. He said he’d have a talk with her.”

  “Alzheimer’s is horrible,” Carter agreed with a nod.

  “Yep, it is. Byron’s bringing a guy in. Caught him pulling a trailer with an engine block on it, and it looks like it’s the one that was stolen from Graham’s house last week.” Carter’s cousin, Graham Melton, had reported it stolen. He’d be glad to get it back.

  “Good. Anything else?”

  “Uh, yeah. You got a call from some FBI guy. Livingston?”

  “Yeah. Cruz Livingston. He’s going to help out with the investigation into Palmer’s death.”

  “Sweet! Didn’t know you had big guns coming in! Said he’ll be here Wednesday afternoon.”

  Well, shit. That’s when the funeral is, Carter groused internally. He’d forgotten that someone had tried to call while he was talking to Glen. If he had to, he could get one of the other guys to pick Cruz up. There was no doubt in his mind that the agent would be flying into Nashville. There sure as hell wasn’t any other way for him to get to Cadiz. “Okay. Thanks. I may need you to go pick him up. I’m going to Tamara Kent’s funeral Wednesday afternoon.”

  “You’re going to her funeral?” He could hear the disbelief in Watson’s voice.

  “Yes. I’m going.”

  “Don’t you think that’s―”

  “None of your business, Watson. I think it’s none of your business,” he said, keeping his voice measured but firm.

  “Yes, sir. None of my business.”

  “You know, deputy, if there’s anything I’ve tried to teach all of you through the years, it’s to have some compassion for the people we serve. Have you learned anything at all about that?”

  “Yes, sir. I have. And I try to. Have compassion for them, that is. Like Mrs. Davis.”

  Well, now I feel like shit, Carter’s brain scolded. “Yes. You do. I’m sorry, Justin. It’s just that this whole thing is really eating away at me, and I know I’m distracted and acting a little weird, but I―”

  “Don’t worry about it. Really. You know I respect your decision to do this. If you feel you need to be there, that’s your business. I couldn’t do it, but I’m half the man you are.”

  Carter almost choked. Sometimes he forgot that the younger officers looked up to him. He thought of them as coworkers, but they thought of him as their leader. They were true professionals, and that designation, leader of their team, was a big ticket to fill. He was grateful for them, for their loyalty and hard work, and he neglected to tell them often enough. “I’m just a guy trying to do a job, Justin, but thank you. I respect all of you, and I’m sorry I don’t tell you often enough. Thanks for holding down the fort this morning. Is there anything you know of that I need to address?”

  “I … think Judge Michaels is coming over here.”

  “Oh, shit. About Edwards?” Watson nodded. “Fuck it all. Okay. Thanks for warning me. If I were you, I’d make myself scarce before he gets here.”

  “Roger that, sheriff. I’m gone. Think I’ll patrol out in the south end of the county today. Nobody else is out there.”

  “Sounds good. Be safe out there,” he warned Justin as the younger man strode out the door. He was thankful the worst thing that had ever happened to one of his deputies was being injured in a crash, and even then it wasn’t severe. Thinking about how the KSP troopers had felt when they heard about Palmer was downright painful.

  He spent the next thirty minutes arguing with Judge Michaels, who insisted he fire Edwards. He argued against it, but the judge made a compelling argument, and Carter knew it would help him straighten out the rookie deputy. Edwards wasn’t bad, just sloppy, and there was no room for sloppy in their department. Zero.

  As soon as Graham came with the paperwork to prove the engine block they’d seized was his, Carter got busy. There was something he wanted to check out, and it might be something Livingston could help with when he arrived. He shot a quick text to Sharla: Tamara’s dad’s robbery. Where and when?

  He’d almost decided she couldn’t answer because of work when his phone pinged: O’Fallon, MO. Ten years ago in June.

  Thx. Exactly what he needed. He searched the web for the name of the local newspaper. “This is Sheriff Carter Melton from Trigg County, Kentucky. Who do I need to speak to for copies of archived papers?”

  “Hold on one moment and I’ll connect you.”

  “Thanks.” Carter sat through what had to be the worst hold music rendition of Pink Floyd’s “The Wall” he hoped to never hear again.

  “Archives,” a voice said, and he said a silent prayer of thanks that the horrible music was gone. After he’d told the woman who he was and what he wanted, he was grateful to hear
her say, “Everything’s on our computer now, and it’s all keyword referenced. We give out complimentary subscriptions to members of the media and law enforcement. Let me set you up an account.”

  Five minutes and much thanks later, Carter sat in front of his computer, reading about the robbery. It really was botched, almost too badly screwed up to be accidental. He read every article, from the account of the robbery itself, to the clearing of the officer who’d shot Taliq Kent, and on into the arrests, trials, and sentencing of the two men who’d been with him, Brandon Estevez and Sean McCutchen. That gave him their names, and that was precisely what he was looking for.

  One check on the Bureau of Prison’s website found them both housed at the federal high security prison in Pennington Gap, Virginia. That was a six-hour drive unless he could find somebody who’d fly him, but he definitely wanted to talk to those two. For reasons he couldn’t name, he wanted to know more about Tamara’s parents. Sharla could fill him in on Imogen, but she seemed to know little about Taliq. The couple had lived outside St. Louis when he died, but that was no guarantee his family was from there, and Carter wanted to know more about them too. Any information, no matter how seemingly insignificant, could help―any.

  After all, you’d never know if a rock was hiding a diamond unless you turned it over, and Carter was all about turning over stones.

  “Put on something nice. Not dressy, just casual, but nice.”

  “Why?”

  “You ask too many questions!” Carter said and laughed.

  “Oh, I do, do I? Okay. Casual dress it is. When?”

  “About five thirty?”

  “Um, okay. See you then.”

  “Yep. I’ll be there.” Carter hit END and sat there, wondering what she’d say when she figured out what he was doing.

  He swapped his cruiser out for his pickup truck and dressed in slacks and a button-front shirt, a nice blue plaid that he’d gotten on sale at the mall area in Paducah. To his delight, he passed a Christian County Sheriff’s Department cruiser on his way into Sharla’s neighborhood, and he was pretty sure they were checking the house. Good. Glen was holding true to his promise. He’d barely gotten the truck parked when he looked up and saw her standing there in the open doorway, leaning up against the jamb and smiling with her arms folded across her chest, and he couldn’t help but smile back. God, she was beautiful! As soon as he stepped out and closed the truck door, he heard her say, “You’re certainly a punctual kinda guy, Carter Melton.”

  “I am. Makes it easier when I’ve got something to look forward to.”

  “You’re awfully dressed up.”

  Carter looked down at himself. “Yeah? I guess I clean up okay.”

  “You clean up more than okay. Come here.” The door barely closed behind him before she leaned in and kissed him―hard.

  He was laughing when he pulled back. “Whew! That’s a helluva greeting!”

  “You’re a helluva guy! So what’s this big secret?”

  “Ready to go?”

  “Would help if I knew where I was going,” she answered, hands on her hips.

  “Trust me?”

  He knew that was a loaded question, and he grinned when she said, “Absolutely. Okay. You want to surprise me, I’ll let you. Let’s go.”

  They chatted as he drove along, her about some of the patients she’d had that day―no names, of course―and him about Judge Michaels’ visit. Boy, he dreaded the conversation he’d be having with Edwards, but now it wasn’t coming just from him. It was coming from the judge too, so it would carry a lot more weight. They’d driven more than twenty-five miles from the interstate exit when Sharla said with a grin, “We’re going to Paducah!”

  “Nope. We’re not. You’ll be surprised, I promise.” Glancing at her there in the truck, his chest warmed at the smile on her lips as she watched out the truck window. She was excited, and that was exactly what he wanted.

  He got off at the Calvert City exit and headed east until he came to the spur that sent him over to the state park. “Oh! I’ve never been here!” Sharla exclaimed as he turned into the drive.

  “The food is really good. I’ve been here several times. They actually have a buffalo dinner here once a year.” Carter wheeled into a parking spot in the oval parking lot and shut the truck off. “I always enjoyed that.”

  “I probably would too. I like to try things I’ve never had before, and I don’t think I’ve ever had buffalo. Can we come back for that?”

  “Sure. It’s after the first of the year, so it’ll be a while.” Will she still be interested in me after the first of the year? he wondered. There was no doubt in his mind that he’d still be interested in her.

  The dining room was almost deserted. Most of their business came in the summer, being a state resort park, and that was one reason he’d chosen it. “Could you seat us by the window?” he asked as the hostess greeted them.

  “Sure! Right this way.” Pointing to a table in the back corner at the huge plate glass window, the server left them and Carter helped Sharla into her chair. It was great to be able to sit there and look out over the enormous man-made Kentucky Lake, and they had a good view of the pedestrian bridge, the breakwater jetty, and the marina. Carter had never been interested in having a boat, but it sure looked inviting down there.

  They talked and laughed through dinner. She ordered a Kentucky hot brown, which she declared delicious, and he ordered a steak with a baked potato. Their salad bar was fresh and plentiful, and before long both diners were stuffed. “Whew! I’m tight as a tick!”

  Sharla laughed. “Me too. I think I need to walk some of this off. Could we …”

  “Sure can. Let me take care of the check and we’ll go out and walk around a bit.”

  The early fall air was warm, but when they headed down the hill and toward the shoreline, a cool breeze wafted up from the water. Sharla reached for his hand and smiled. “This is really nice.”

  Carter took hers and squeezed it. “It is. Very nice. The company’s better than the food and the scenery though.” She didn’t get a chance to speak before he drew her hand upward and kissed the back of it.

  She stopped dead, their hands still clasped. “Can this really go anywhere, Carter? I don’t want to be played with.”

  “This morning, when my deputy found out I was going to the funeral and he questioned my judgment, I told him it was none of his business. And it’s not. As long as I don’t compromise the investigation in any way, it’s nobody’s concern. Do I think it would be best to keep it on the down low? Yeah, until it’s all over. If somebody finds out, am I going to be ruined? Nope. We don’t need to flaunt it, but I’m not going to run away from it forever. We’re building something here, Sharla, something good, and I don’t want to mess that up because I’m afraid of what other people think.”

  “I feel the same way. People can think what they want. Besides, there’s probably nothing to any of this, just a huge mistake on Tam’s part.”

  Should he tell her? He didn’t want to tell her everything. After all, they might discover there wasn’t much to it. But he also didn’t want to keep anything from her. Even so, with the funeral coming up, she didn’t need anything else to worry about. He decided to go straight up the middle of that road. “Actually, there may be more. We don’t know yet.”

  Her brow furrowed immediately. “What do you mean?”

  “Not sure yet. We’re following some leads. Nothing to worry about, though.”

  She gave him a suspicious side-eye with one brow raised. “Between the time I got home and you got there, I saw two cop cars pass my house, a city and a county. Do you know anything about that?”

  Not gonna lie to her, he told himself. “I might.”

  Turning loose of his hand abruptly, she gaped and her eyes popped open wide. “Am I some kind of suspect?”

  “God, no!” he almost shrieked. “Of course not! If you were suspected of something, I most certainly wouldn’t be here! Good lord, woman, what in he
ll would you be suspected of? Why? Have you done something you shouldn’t have?”

  “Yeah. I slept with the sheriff of Trigg County,” she said and gave a nervous little laugh.

  “Oh, very funny. No. Last time I checked that didn’t break a Kentucky Revised Statute. But I did ask my friend Glen if he could―”

  “Glen? The sheriff, Glen?”

  “Yes. We all do talk to each other, you know.”

  “And what did you tell him?”

  “I didn’t. And, to his credit, he didn’t ask. I think he felt like that was on a need-to-know basis and if it was me asking, that was good enough and he didn’t need to know.” She had no idea how thankful he was for that little extension of professional courtesy.

  “Oh. Okay then. You really think that’s necessary?”

  “I do, especially since you think somebody’s been watching you.” No way would he tell her about the rustling in the bushes. Nope. That was just another thing she didn’t need to hear about.

  “So you believe me?”

  “Of course I believe you. Why wouldn’t I?” He wanted to add, Because I heard them, but he didn’t. “If you think you’re being watched, then you’re being watched, and I’m going to do whatever I can to keep you safe.”

  “Thank you.” She stood in silence for a minute as though she wanted to say something and didn’t know how. Carter was about to speak when she said, “You told me you hadn’t been with anybody in a couple of years. Were you in a relationship?”

  He’d known it was going to come up some time. “Actually, I was. Her name is Mandy, and we were together for about five years.”

  “But you weren’t married?”

  “Nope. Wasn’t me. I wanted to get married, but she didn’t, not unless I found a different job. And that wasn’t going to happen.” Might as well broach the subject, he thought. “Most women don’t want to be involved with law enforcement officers. They worry, they’re afraid, they’re alone a lot of the time because our jobs aren’t nine to five. We have a lot to deal with―murders, assaults, rapes, child abuse, high-speed chases, people shooting at us, trying to stab us, drug addicts OD-ing in our cars, you name it―and it can seep into our relationships. In the end, she just couldn’t take it. There came a tipping point, and she was gone.”