by Stacey Wilk
“I met him at a party.” She hung her head. Her dark hair fell over her face.
“Whose party?”
“Rebecca’s sister goes to UM. We went with her.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. Izzi’s friend Rebecca always rubbed him the wrong way. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but he had a sense that young lady was trouble, and he didn’t want Izzi hanging with her. He was right.
As Izzi continued to grow up and get closer to the age Ajay was when he died, Gage wanted to protect her more and more. If he’d been paying better attention back then, maybe Ajay would still be alive.
“You went to a college party after I told you not to, and you drank three beers.”
“It was two and a half. I’m sorry.” A tear ran down her cheek.
“Grounded. Three weeks. Go to your room.” His head hurt.
She slunk away from him without another word. A throbbing began behind his eyes. He gathered the cans and tossed them in the recycling bucket under the sink.
He changed out of his uniform, locked up his gun, and popped open the fridge. He grabbed the last Cold Smoke Scotch Ale, cracked the seal, and pressed the cold can to his forehead.
Being a single parent had never been more difficult. He had no idea how to handle his daughter. How his mother raised five boys by herself was beyond him.
He moved around the small kitchen and pulled a can of soup from the cabinet. He dumped it into a pot and lit the burner. Not much of a dinner, but he wasn’t as hungry as he thought he was.
The pain in his head went up four notches when he pictured Calista standing outside Howard’s Hardware. She had come home at his request but was probably mad about her father’s recent arrest. Andy had it coming, though. His drinking was becoming a problem.
Of course, the death glare from Calista’s amber eyes might have had more to do with him than her father. She would never forgive him for what Ajay did. When she looked at him, she saw his little brother, the man who killed her sister. After sixteen years, it might be nice if she tried. He wasn’t holding any grudges. Well, not many.
A knock came from the front door. That kid had better not be back. He turned off the soup.
“Gage, are you home?” His mother walked into his house as if it was hers. In a way, it was.
“In here.” He poured the soup into a bowl.
Karen Ryker stepped into his kitchen wearing the smile she reserved for her children and grandchild and carrying a large white binder in her arms. Her black-rimmed rectangular glasses sat in their expected place on her nose.
“Please tell me you didn’t come over to talk about the barbeque for the Fourth.” After what he saw in his living room, he only wanted to nurse his beer, slurp his soup, and forget he had a teenage daughter who wanted to have sex.
“I need some of your input for the barbeque and the fireworks. Give your mom a hug.”
She waved him over, and he indulged her. He leaned his frame down to her petite one, and she wrapped her arms around his waist.
“I don’t care that you’re a foot taller than I am and a grown man. I still love hugging my boys.”
“We noticed.”
She swatted his arm. “Wiseguy.”
“Why don’t you ask Jett and Lock what they think about the barbeque? They’re the ranchers. Or did you fire them again?” He pulled out a chair at the kitchen table for her and took the seat opposite.
“I have never fired my children from the ranch.”
He raised an eyebrow in question.
“That was one time. And you all deserved it.” She opened her binder.
“We were kids.” He dumped the spoon in the soup.
She sat back with a distant look in her eyes. “We had some good times back then, didn’t we? You know, before Dad and Ajay were gone. For the briefest of moments, I thought I had it all.” She waved her hands in front of her eyes. “Oh, look at me. I’m sorry. Sometimes this time of year sneaks up on me and steals my breath. Now where were we?”
He gripped her hand and gave a squeeze. She smiled but pulled her hand away and patted his arm.
“Mom—”
She put her hand up. “Gage Michael, I’m fine. Really, but thank you. Is that your dinner?”
“Want some?” He held up the spoon.
“Let me make you something. You and Izzi can’t eat like that.” She stood, but this time he put a hand up.
“Mom, I’m fine. Just like you.”
“Don’t sass your mother.” She gave him a small smile. “Okay, fine. Have your soup.” She pulled a page from her binder. “Now Jett wants to change the menu. I printed out some ideas. What do you think?”
He took the paper from her. She wanted the conversation about the past over, and he would oblige. She was the toughest woman he’d ever met, and she had expected her boys to be just as tough. If she needed something, she would ask. Maybe.
She rattled on about the Fourth of July celebration on the ranch. The town and their guests expected a celebration every Fourth. It didn’t matter their family experienced the worst tragedy on the nation’s birthday. The Ryker Ranch had to perform, but he missed his kid brother. The guilt never loosened its grip on his chest.
“Jett wants everything the same as last year. He won’t budge. I thought you might be able to persuade him to try a few new things. He listens to you,” Mom said.
Jett wasn’t going to listen to anyone. “I’ll talk to him.” His first younger brother was a lot like him in some ways. Jett believed in order and rules that needed to be followed. They had inherited that characteristic from their father and his Kootenai work ethic. Even if Dad was only part Native American, his staunch work philosophy was what killed him.
“Where’s Izzi?” His mother took his soup bowl and washed it.
“She’s in her room. Grounded.” He sipped his beer.
“What could that sweet girl possibly have done? Go easy on her.” Mom might be tough, but her rules could be bent with nothing more than a hug. All her children knew how to play her when one of them wanted something. No one had been better at that than Ajay.
“Please don’t undermine my authority with her. I caught her making out with a boy and drinking beer.”
His mother waved her hand in the air. “Oh my. Well, I’ll leave it to you to figure out.”
She wiped down the counters, straightened the mail, and moved Izzi’s shoes away from the door. “Silver Bell didn’t want to come in from the pasture again today. Jett said to leave her and he’d bring her in when she was ready.”
“Is she sick?” He needed to get over there and spend some time with his horse. He’d been neglecting her because he’d been so busy since Memorial Day weekend.
“She’s old, Gage. You’re going to need to face that.” His mother wiped her hands on a dish towel.
“She’s okay, Mom. Jett would have said if she wasn’t.”
“I’m saying that Silver Bell may be winding down. I want you to be prepared.”
He couldn’t lose her. She had been Ajay’s horse. “I’ll stop by the barn tomorrow.”
“Fair enough. I’m going to head back to the main house.” She hugged him.
“Do you want me to drive you back? It’s late now.” He had picked the farthest guest cottage from the main house to live in when he came home with a toddler and needed his mother’s help to raise her. He wanted to keep some of his dignity, and at least the half mile between his cottage and the main house allowed him a morsel.
“I think I know my way.” She winked.
“I should take you.”
“You worry too much.” She held her binder to her chest with her arms crossed like a shield and adjusted her glasses with one hand.
“It’s my job to worry.” He reached for his keys.
“It’s your job to serve and protect. Everyone else. Good night, my love.” She closed the door without another word.
He dropped onto the leather recliner and grabbed the remote. Usually around ten
or eleven, he would take a quick ride through town to make sure everything looked tucked in for the night, but tonight his muscles ached, and his head still throbbed. Maybe his mother was right. He did worry too much.
His eyelids grew heavy. He was ready to surrender to sleep, but the shrill sound of his cell jarred him awake. Without looking at the screen, he answered. “Sheriff Ryker.”
“Sir, we have a report of a two-one-one,” his deputy sheriff said, using the old number codes.
“Is anyone hurt?” The second robbery in as many weeks. A chill ran over his skin. He jumped from the recliner.
“No, sir. The subject was in and out fast.”
He stopped. Not much could be done at this hour if no one had been apprehended. “Take a report of what’s missing. And make note of anything the victims can tell you. And how many times do I have to tell you to use plain language instead of the number codes?”
“Sorry, sir.”
Gage shook his head. His hands were tied when it came to hiring Barry Pearce. No one else had wanted the job, and he couldn’t run the department all by himself. They had Phyllis who answered phones and smart-mouthed anyone who got in her way, but other than her, it was him and Barry.
“Any neighbors hanging around?”
“No, sir. No neighbors nearby.”
A house without neighbors in proximity probably meant the robbery had occurred at one of the farms on the outskirts of town. “Don’t miss anything. I’ll check on them in the morning.” He’d review the report and canvas the area again then.
“But I think you should come out here. The victim is pretty upset.”
“Is it Mr. Logger?” The Logger farm bordered the next town over. Kids usually just pegged his house with dried peas. They made a racket against the old man’s metal siding. He would come running with his gun, and the kids would run into the fields laughing.
“No, sir. The robbery was at the Hartman bed-and-breakfast.”
A cold hand of dread ran down his back. “Has Andy been drinking? Is he out of control?”
“I wish it were that simple. It’s Calista. She won’t stop crying, and she won’t let me call an ambulance. Took my phone and threw it across the room. I think she’s in shock. Probably never been robbed before. Will you come?”
“I’ll be right there.”
Chapter Four
Gage turned onto the long drive leading to the Hartman B and B. His truck bounced over the uneven asphalt. Barry’s cruiser sat up ahead with the overhead lights still spinning red and blue ribbons across the front of the house.
Every window was lit up from the inside. He parked off to the side and crossed the grass in two strides.
He reached inside the cruiser and turned off the lights. A glance around told him everything appeared as usual. He went to the front door but didn’t bother to knock. He was there in an official capacity. She would have to let him in even if she didn’t want to. Which was likely.
“Deputy Pearce, where are you?” he hollered into the house. The front rooms were empty.
“In here, sir.”
He hadn’t been inside the Hartman in sixteen years, but he headed for the kitchen as if he’d been there only yesterday. The back door hung open, and the glass pane closest to the doorknob was broken. Splintered glass littered the floor. A chair was on its side. The faucet dripped water. Several cabinet doors hung crooked. Was the burglar after plates and glasses?
Barry stood to the side, taking photos with his phone. Andy huddled in the corner, cradling a whiskey glass. Great. His hair stuck up in different directions, as if he might have been sleeping when all this happened. The plaid pajama pants were also a giveaway.
“Andy, are you okay?”
“What do you think? We were robbed. They took the televisions in every guest room. The stereo equipment. And who knows what else.”
“I know this is difficult. As long as no one was hurt, that’s what matters. Insurance will replace the things you lost.”
Andy downed a large gulp of whatever he was drinking.
“It’s ginger ale.” Andy snarled at him. “Do you want to smell it?”
“It’s none of my business. Just make sure to tell Barry everything you know. Do you have guests now? Did anyone else see or hear anything?”
“No guests. Just Lissa. She wanted to stay up here instead of in the lake house. I told her to stay with me in her old room. What if that bastard had hurt her?”
“Did you see a man?” He wanted to break in half the person who did this. If he were smart, he’d let Barry run with this investigation and he’d stay out of it altogether. But he couldn’t stand the idea of someone hurting her. Or Andy for that matter.
“Lissa yelled for me. I came outside and saw what looked like three tall figures running. They jumped in a car and sped off.” He nursed his drink.
Gage hoped it really was ginger ale. “What kind of car was it?”
“I couldn’t tell in the dark.”
“Where is Calista?”
“Out on the back deck.”
“I wouldn’t go out there, sir. She’s liable to throw you over the rail.” Barry shook his head and pulled out a notebook.
“I’ll be right back.” He took a deep breath, trying to prepare for seeing her up close, and stepped onto the deck.
Her back was to him. She’d lost weight, but her curves still tempted him. His fingers wanted to run across her skin because his memory had always been his enemy. He clasped his hands to keep from touching her. Her hair hung in waves below her shoulders. He had once asked her to keep her hair long for him. It would be foolish to think she had continued to honor his request.
He cleared his throat, and she turned around. Her eyes grew wide, but she turned back toward the lake. “I didn’t expect the sheriff to come out for this. I gave my report to the deputy.”
“Were you hurt in the incident?” He focused on using the voice he reserved for questioning eyewitnesses so his emotions didn’t get the best of him. He needed to stay professional, especially with her.
“No, thank you for asking. Why are you here?”
“Deputy Pearce said the scene was unsecured.”
“In other words, I’d lost my shit, right?” She leaned on her elbows.
He took a tentative step toward her and braced himself in case she pounced. “Are you okay? It’s frightening when something like this happens.”
She pointed her gaze on him. “You think so? Have you ever been robbed, Sheriff? Because I have. Tonight makes twice. I know exactly how scary it is to be held at gunpoint and forced to hand over your belongings.”
The need to snap someone’s neck burned through him like a wildfire. He wanted to kill the person who’d pointed a gun at her. Even though his knee-jerk reaction was to protect her in a way that was completely different than his job as sheriff, he no longer had the right. “Did someone have a gun tonight?”
“Just me. I heard the glass break and grabbed my dad’s twenty-two rifle. I shouted I had a gun and they had better get running. There was some scurrying. I didn’t come out of my room right away. They were quick. They stole all the televisions and some other stuff. They found the cash in the cookie jar. It all happened in minutes, as if they’d known where everything was.”
They could have been casing the place, but the B and B was so far off the road it was hard to keep a good eye on the comings and goings. That would mean in order for the unsubs to know where things were, they would have had to walk across the property to peer inside the windows. Or they had been here before.
“I’m sorry that happened to you. We’ll do everything we can to catch the people who did this.”
“Yeah, right. Cops are always sorry.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing. Forget it. I’ll apologize to Barry. I overreacted.” She continued to give him her back.
“That’s not necessary. No one is judging your actions tonight.”
He wanted to ask her what her life h
ad been like since she left. Had she found the happiness she wanted? Was she able to get through a day without thinking about her sister? Because he couldn’t go a day without thinking about Ajay. But the memory of her hand slapping his face stopped him from asking.
He forced his mind to stay on the investigation. He didn’t want to think about her or the way his skin was on fire while he stood beside her. He had a job to do. Nothing else mattered at the moment.
“Do you have to be here? Can’t Barry handle this? I promise not to throw his phone again.” She fumbled with the bracelets on her wrist.
“It’s my responsibility. Have there been any recent deliveries?” Without guests at the B and B, he wouldn’t have to question anyone who was from out of town.
She dropped her stare. “I don’t know what my father’s been doing with the business, but I doubt a delivery has arrived in a while since we don’t have any guests. That probably makes you feel good, doesn’t it?”
He flinched. “Why would you think something like that? Why do you hate me so much?” Maybe they needed to deal with her anger once and for all. He didn’t want to watch everything he said around her.
“I don’t hate you.” She turned back to the lake. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. I’m just upset about tonight.”
He could understand that, yet he wasn’t sure he believed her entirely. She was upset about what happened here with every right, but he was still the same man she couldn’t bear to be around.
In the morning, she might regret some of her verbal attacks, but he doubted it. He stood beside her, forcing her to look up at him. Her eyes smoldered, most likely from anger and fear. Her lips were pressed into a thin, colorless line, and her shoulders hunched. She did not want him anywhere near her. He couldn’t move away. She had always been a magnet for him.
“Was there something valuable in the kitchen cabinets?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
“It appears someone vandalized the kitchen cabinets. Do you know if there was something inside them worth stealing?” He willed his legs to move and leaned against the rail to create some space between them. His lungs expanded and sucked in the lake air.
