Time Won't Erase

by Stacey Wilk

  “Dad, you said.” She took her gaze off the phone and twisted her voice into a whine.

  When she pouted to get her way, it cemented how young she still was. How could she be the same person he found untangling herself from a boy? He could tell her the bike-riding privileges were revoked due to recent behavior, but that would make her hate him. He didn’t want that. At least not today. He let out a long breath. “Be careful.”

  “Thank you, Daddy.” She flung herself into his arms, kissed his cheek, and pushed away before he could grab on and savor the moment. Her strawberry scent lingered around him like a reminder of her as a preschooler when he had all the answers to her questions.

  “Come straight home after school,” he said to her retreating back.

  She heaved her backpack over her shoulder and closed the door. Shutting him out. He wanted time to stand still for just a minute or tick backward to a simpler place. Since neither of those things was going to happen, he headed for work and convinced himself he could control a thing or two.

  He made one stop before pulling into the parking lot of the sheriff’s department. He had skipped breakfast because of his visit with Silver Bell, and bought a dozen donuts for the office. He was a walking cliché, but he had a sweet tooth.

  “Sheriff Ryker, how many times do I have to tell you not to bring fried dough into my office? My hips can’t take it.” Phyllis Jump glared at him with wide brown eyes from behind her uncluttered metal desk that shared the space with his deputy, who wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

  Phyllis had worked here long before he became the sheriff. She’d probably started when the paneling went up on the walls to cover the peeling plaster. She knew every detail and secret floating around Backwater and could run this office with her eyes closed. Plus, she scared him a little.

  Her red glasses were plopped on top of her head. Her long gray hair, streaked with brown from her early years, was pulled back from her lined face. She was tall and thin but not frail. Mrs. Jump could hit a bullseye at three hundred feet with her shotgun. When he took the job, he hadn’t wanted to replace her for fear she would hunt him down.

  He opened the box and held it under her nose. The smell of sugar filled the air around them. “I bought the pink one with sprinkles for you.”

  She blushed and waved him away with her paperwork. “Oh, pooh. You’re trying to clog my arteries so I have to retire.”

  “Sorry, Phyllis. You can’t retire until I do.”

  She placed the pink donut on a napkin. Then she came around the desk and took the box from him. “I’ll be dead by then, young man. I remember the moment you came into this world yelling your head off.”

  “You’re going to outlive us all.” His mother had told the story a million times, how Phyllis was her ride to the hospital after her water broke and his father was out in the fields.

  “Are you implying I’m a vampire?” She locked the box in the three-drawer filing cabinet and pocketed the key.

  He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Give me the key.”

  “Absolutely not. You’ll eat the whole dozen by the end of the day. Every time you pass the box, you’ll grab one. You can have one tomorrow.”

  “I already have a mother. She doesn’t look like you. She’s a lot shorter for one, and she doesn’t have a long, pointy nose, green skin, and a black hat sewn to her head.”

  “Sheriff Ryker, I believe I’m being harassed. I’m going to be forced to issue a report. You’ve insulted me twice in two minutes.” She threw her head back, slapped her leg, and burst out laughing at her own joke.

  He couldn’t help but laugh too. “If you thought someone was harassing you, you’d box them on the ears.”

  “Bet your ass I would.” She grabbed a notepad and pulled her glasses down from her head. “Now, I’ve received three calls already this morning about the robbery over at the Hartman. Does Barry have any leads I don’t know about?”

  “No.” It pained him to admit that.

  “I feared that much. What do you want me to tell these people? Logger is threatening to camp out on our doorstep until we arrest someone. I don’t want that farmer leaving dirt all over my recently swept steps.”

  “No one wants to steal his dried peas. What’s he worried about?”

  “He isn’t happy unless he’s complaining.”

  “Tell whoever asks we’re working on finding the suspect. They would rather I take out a full-page ad with the criminal in handcuffs, but that’s not real life.”

  “I could take out an ad of Logger in his long johns,” Phyllis said.

  He resisted the urge to laugh at the truth in that statement. “Don’t make my job harder than it is. I’ll go talk to the neighbors near the Hartman, but I doubt anyone saw anything.” He wanted another shot at that punk sucking face with Izzi. He’d take a ride by the B and B later this afternoon for another try. “Any other calls?”

  She flipped the page of her notebook. “The mayor called. He wants to go over security for the parade, the concert, and the pie social.”

  “Tell him it’s the same as last year.” He and Barry would keep a watchful eye. A few of the firefighters with some police training usually volunteered during the town’s three-day celebration for the Fourth. The budget didn’t allow for him to hire more officers.

  “With the robbery being the second in a month, he wants more. He’ll be here at one to meet with you. I told him I didn’t control you. I couldn’t promise him you’d be here. I tried to give you a way out.”

  “You are an angel. Now please let me have one of my donuts.” He’d leave the office by lunchtime and stop at the Hartman. Hopefully, Calista’s new hire would be there. And he had to admit he didn’t mind the idea of seeing her again.

  “So now I’m an angel. Make up your mind, Sheriff. Angel or the wicked witch.” She pointed a finger at him.

  “Wicked witch. If you don’t hand over that key.” He held out his palm.

  “I’ll need to get a better hat. One more thing.”

  “What’s that?” He was going to have to buy more donuts.

  “Margo said someone is pinching all her tomatoes at the market. She wants a surveillance camera installed, and since the market is outside on public property, she thinks the sheriff’s department should be responsible for doing it.”

  “She does, does she?” When he returned to Backwater to raise Izzi with his mother’s help, giving up real police work didn’t seem like such a sacrifice. Now he wondered if he’d been wrong about that.

  “I told her you’d get right on it.”

  “Definitely the wicked witch.” The people of his town relied on him, and he did like the way his chest filled with pride when he thought about that. He needed to find the scumbags committing robbery so his residents didn’t lose faith in him.

  Phyllis leaned a hip against the metal desk. “Seriously, Gage, who do you think robbed the B and B? Why would someone do that? Backwater is a safe little town. Nobody here wants to hurt anyone else.”

  “I suspect the criminal doesn’t live in Backwater. They found their way to us. We’ll stop them before it happens again.” Though he wasn’t entirely sure how without more evidence.

  Phyllis was right about Backwater. The worst crime he’d seen was someone racing the yellow light on Main Street, and that person had been a tourist. In fact, most trouble came from the tourists. He’d need to ask around at the café and the bookstore too. A motel out on the highway booked up during the Fourth. The motel was close enough for tourists to come and go during the festivities. He could check there too.

  “You don’t think Andy has a gambling debt or something, do you?” She flipped her glasses back to the top of her head. “You know, someone who wanted to make good on what he owed?”

  “I hope not, and that doesn’t explain the other robbery.” It wouldn’t be much of a stretch, since Andy’s drinking seemed to be picking up, but he didn’t believe it. Andy was a lost soul in need of some tender loving care. He would nose around
in that area just to make sure. Maybe his mother knew something.

  The phone jangled its ring into the office. Phyllis slid off the desk. “Backwater Sheriff’s Department. Phyllis speaking.”

  He went into his private office and shut the door. If the call was for him, she could patch it through. If it wasn’t, she’d handle it.

  He stared out the window toward the street. People went by on bicycles. A few cars hurried to their destinations. He couldn’t see Main Street from this window, but there would be people strolling up and down the cobblestone walk in front of the stores.

  Which one of them could have robbed the B and B? Was it the old guy with long white hair and a beard? Or was it the man walking with him? Could it be the couple on the bicycle built for two? Everyone was a suspect as far as he was concerned, but his gut churned when he thought of Justin.

  He would need to learn more about Justin whatever his last name was. What he already knew, he didn’t like.

  The intercom on his phone buzzed. “Gage, Izzi is here. Before you—” Phyllis’s voice filled the room.

  “I’ll be right out.” He didn’t wait for her to finish. Izzi should be at school by now.

  He flung open the office door. “Isabelle Ryker, you’d better have a good reason for not being at school.”

  His daughter’s knees were scraped, and blood trickled down her shins. The ponytail she had pulled her hair into earlier that morning hung limply by her ear. The mascara she wore—and he hated—left streaks under her water-filled eyes. She gnawed on her bottom lip, but he didn’t miss the tremble in her chin.

  “What happened?” He leaped forward. “Phyllis, get—”

  “Already have it. Come sit down, sweetie.” Phyllis led Izzi to a chair and helped her into it. She tucked stray hairs behind Izzi’s ear, then handed her a cloth. “Can you wipe up your legs?”

  Izzi nodded and took the cloth.

  He squatted down to look her in the eye. He really didn’t want her riding her bicycle from the ranch to school. He should have trusted his gut this morning. The school was several miles away from where they lived. But she wanted the independence. He had told her a flat-out no the first time she asked, but his mother took him aside and set him straight. “Did you fall?”

  She nodded again and pressed the cloth to her mouth. “It was so stupid. Someone was calling my name. I turned to look over my shoulder. When I glanced back, a car swerved too close to me. I had to turn the bike too quickly to get out of the way. I hit the curb and went flying over the handlebars.”

  Kace had helped Izzi find the bike. He also read him the riot act on being too tough on her. For his second youngest brother, bike riding was nothing compared to the cars he raced. Sometimes Kace just didn’t understand his fears. And other fears Kace understood too much.

  “Do you know what kind of car it was?” He would hunt down this reckless driver.

  “Like something Uncle Kace might drive.”

  A sports car. Low to the ground with an engine that growled. “How about the color?”

  “Black or dark gray. Or maybe blue. The sun was in my eyes too.”

  Phyllis handed her a cup of water. “Who called your name, sweetie?”

  Izzi took a few sips. He pushed up off his haunches and paced the room. He wanted to tear his hair out of his head or out of the head of the person who’d done this.

  “I think it was Justin.”

  Gage stopped. His hands fisted. “Are you sure?”

  “No. It kind of looked like him, but everything happened so fast. I could be wrong. It wasn’t his fault anyway. It was the car. It was so close I could feel the heat coming off it.”

  “It was just an accident.” Phyllis squeezed Izzi’s shoulder. “I can put a report together just to have something on file. Let’s get some bandages on your knees.”

  “I don’t want to go to school.” Izzi’s gaze met his.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. What was the right thing to do in this moment? “Why not?”

  “Look at me. I’m dirty. And my bike is mangled.”

  “Did you leave your bike? What road were you on?” He could call Kace and ask him to grab it.

  “I walked it here from Ponderosa Pine. It’s outside. Can Uncle Kace fix it?”

  “We’ll see how bad it is. If you’re not hurt, I think you should go to school.”

  “I knew you’d say that.” She bunched the cloth in her hands. “Why can’t I take a mental health day? I almost got run over.”

  “But you didn’t, and that’s what matters. I can drive you home to change if you want.”

  Phyllis eyed him from behind Izzi. He knew what she was thinking with that eyebrow cocked. His mother would probably say the same thing. But Izzi could not duck out of life just because something went wrong. She had to face the tough stuff. She wasn’t going to end up like Ajay, running from responsibility.

  Izzi stood and threw the cloth down. “I don’t want you to drive me. I’ll walk.” She turned to Phyllis. “Thank you for helping me.”

  “You’re welcome, sweetie. Before you go, do you want a donut? Your dad brought some in this morning.” Phyllis scrambled for the key to open the filing cabinet. She presented the box to Izzi.

  Izzi eyed him, as if to dare him to tell her no. She chose the chocolate glaze. “Thanks. I didn’t eat breakfast.”

  Phyllis hugged her and smoothed her hair. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Izzi nodded. “I have to get to school.”

  “You’ll need a note.” He reached for a piece of paper.

  “No, I won’t. When Mrs. Schneider sees my knees, she won’t question me.” Izzi limped out the door without another look back.

  He flopped into the chair by Phyllis’s desk and wiped a hand over his face. “She’s going to be the death of me.”

  She took her seat behind her desk and dropped her glasses on her nose. “If you want my opinion—”

  “I don’t.”

  She shrugged and tapped at her keyboard. “A young lady is not a deputy in a sheriff’s department.”

  He pushed out of the chair. “What are you getting at?”

  “Nothing at all. Just making an observation.”

  “Phyllis, please don’t bust my nuts. I’ve had enough of that for one day.” He pushed outside into the warm morning.

  Izzi’s bike lay on the ground by the steps, with the front tire bent in half. She had somehow snaked the lock around the twisted handlebars and the railing. He didn’t have a key to the lock. He’d have to cut the chain. He heaved a sigh and pulled out his phone.

  “Ryker’s Garage.” Kace’s voice came through on the third ring.

  “It’s me.”

  “I saw that on the screen.”

  “Why didn’t you just say hello, then?”

  “ ’Cause I never get tired of hearing my own name. What’s up?”

  “Izzi fell off her bike. It’s pretty banged up.”

  “Is she all right? You need me to come to the hospital?”

  His brothers would do anything for him. And he would do the same. All he had to do was ask, and one or all of them would be there. “No hospital. She’s a little bruised but okay. She went to school and locked her bike on the steps of the department. Any chance you can come and cut the chain and then fix it for her?”

  Kace’s laugh hurt his head.

  “I’m not laughing that she fell. I’m laughing because there’s a pretty good chance she locked that bike up and left without giving you the key because you pissed her off.”

  “Funny.”

  “Shit, she’s so much like you at that age it scares me. You made her go to school, didn’t you?”

  “Kace, just answer the question. Can you come? I can’t leave her bike here.” And he wanted to fix it for her so she wouldn’t be so mad at him.

  “All right. All right. I’ll be there in five.” Kace ended the call.

  He waited on the steps until his brother pulled his red pickup into the lot.
Kace jumped out, adjusting his greasy baseball cap. He reached into the back of the truck and grabbed the chain cutters.

  “This is going to cost you.” Kace’s smile showed all his bright, white teeth.

  “It already has. Just tell me how much to get it looking like new.”

  Kace snapped the chain in two with a grunt. “I’m not going to charge you, prick. Though I could use a few hours of help in the garage. I’m short-staffed again.”

  “Let me know when. I’ll be there.” He often pitched in at the garage when Kace needed an extra pair of hands. Just as he’d told Jett he would take that tour out, even though he’d rather not.

  He had promised his father while standing over his gravesite that he would watch out for all his brothers. Since he let Ajay down, he would never let another brother need something from him—even when he’d rather be doing something else.

  Kace laughed again. “Man, you’re gullible. I don’t need your help. I just wanted to see what you’d say.”

  He punched Kace on the arm.

  “How about you work my pit crew with me sometime? I’d like to have my big brother standing by.” Kace wiped his hands on his pants, which were as greasy as his hat.

  “Sure. But you know I’ll help out at the garage if you need me.”

  “I know you will. Take this and walk to the truck with me.” Kace handed him the cutters and carried the bike to his truck. “Are you holding up okay?” He lifted the bike into the pickup’s bed.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” He placed the cutters beside the bike with a clang.

  Kace arched an eyebrow. A Ryker-man twitch. “It’s June. Backwater is getting busier with crazy tourists. The Fourth is coming. We’ve had two robberies, and one involved you know who.”

  “I’m fine.” As long as he stayed focused on work and keeping Izzi safe, he’d be fine. The Fourth would come and go. The summer would end before he knew it because he’d be too busy to notice the time, and then the quiet days of fall would be around him. He couldn’t wait.

  “I say this to you every year. What happened wasn’t your fault. Ava Hartman was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Ajay was the fuckup. Stop dragging this shit around.” Kace squared his shoulders and met his gaze with his dark, stern one.