'Not knowing the victim's name doesn't negate the fact that she's dead.' Sara smoothed down the hairs on his chest so they wouldn't tickle her nose. 'And Lena was at the scene. She had her foot on the gas can.'
'They probably won't be able to get her prints off the can.'
'That doesn't offer a resounding proof of innocence.'
'They don't have a statement from her. She didn't say a word to anyone.'
Sara thought to ask why he was giving Lena the benefit of the doubt when he would most certainly take her actions as an admission of guilt from anyone else, but she was too tired for the argument that would follow.
Jeffrey said, 'I wish we could find Hank. He's got to know something.'
'You're sure he's not at home? Hiding, maybe?'
'As far as I could tell, no one was there.' He added, 'Valentine has a car right across the street. I'm sure he knocked on the door when Lena went missing.'
'Maybe you need to knock hard enough to open the door.'
He laughed in surprise. 'I think being married to a cop is finally starting to rub off on you.'
'Then listen to me. I'm worried that Lena has done something to jeopardize Hank.'
Jeffrey took his time responding. 'Has it occurred to you that it could be the other way around?' She didn't answer, and he continued, 'Hank's probably back on drugs. Maybe he pissed off his dealer. Maybe Lena came down to take care of things, only the dealer didn't want to be taken care of.'
She looked up at him, resting her chin on her hand. 'Go on.'
'These guys don't like being fucked with,' Jeffrey continued. 'And they're not afraid of cops.'
For the first time since they'd gotten here, Sara was finally hearing something logical. She could easily imagine Lena pissing off the wrong people, damn the consequences. The same pattern she had established with Ethan Green – provoking her skinhead lover until he retaliated with force – could be playing out again in Elawah County.
Jeffrey told Sara, 'You didn't see Pfeiffer up close. He was terrified. Maybe he thought they had sent me to finish the job.' He hesitated, as if he hadn't quite worked out the next bit. 'It could be that the reason Lena didn't want to talk to me the other night was because she didn't want to expose me to these people.'
Sara put her head back down on Jeffrey's chest. She could not give the woman the benefit of the doubt, but she didn't want the ensuing argument that might come if she voiced her opinion. 'Do you think the man we saw at the hospital could have been Hank's dealer?'
'Jake said the guy was a dealer.'
'He also said that the guy was there to visit one of his boys in the hospital,' Sara pointed out. 'Jake had plenty of opportunity to tell you then and there that the man was supplying Hank and that Lena had gotten in the way.'
'I wasn't exactly high on his list at the moment,' Jeffrey reminded her. 'To his thinking, you and I had just helped Lena escape from custody.'
Sara didn't want to dwell on that point. 'Do you think Hank might have helped her?'
He shrugged. 'To get out of town, she would need a car, clothes, money. Lena could do that on her own or she could find help.'
'I don't know if I buy Hank being capable of coordinating all that.'
'He's an old man,' Jeffrey allowed. 'Then again, you don't get track marks on your arms like that from going to Sunday school.'
He had a point. Actually, he had a lot of good points. She wondered why he hadn't been thinking like this yesterday. It would have saved both of them a hell of a lot of trouble, not to mention nearly eight hundred miles on her car.
She asked, 'So, what's on the agenda for tomorrow?'
'Maybe knock real hard on Hank's door.' He chuckled, obviously still pleased that Sara had come up with the idea. 'Failing any response, I guess I'll find out a little more about Jake Valentine. I've got some contacts at the sheriff's academy over in Tifton. Hopefully, they can give me a better idea of the kind of cop he is. Then, I'm going to call Nick and get him to run a deep background check on Jake.'
'You can't get Frank to do that from the station?'
'The GBI can go deeper than a look-see,' he said, using the slang for the routine checks he could run at the police station. 'It takes several days to pull a complete profile.'
'Jake can't have a record or he wouldn't have made it through the Public Safety screening.'
'I'm going to cross-reference him for known associates.'
'Surely, they would've flagged his file if he was a known associate of a criminal.'
'Depends on how he's known.'
'And if he has some connections near your connections, and they find out you've been digging around about him?'
'I imagine he won't be too surprised to hear the news.'
She reached for his hand, her fingers brushing his skin until they touched a sloppily applied Band-Aid. She curled her hand around his. 'Do you think Jake is part of any of this?'
'Jake grew up here. He was only a deputy for a couple of years before he moved up. I think he knows everything that's going on in this town. Whether he's involved in it or just standing on the outside looking in is the question.'
'When did you come up with all of this?'
She expected him to make a joke about his stunning brilliance or remarkable sleuthing abilities. Instead, he surprised her.
'That woman,' he began, and she understood he meant the charred body they had worked on all day. 'There's somebody out there who's missing her. They're either too scared to ask the sheriff for help, or they know that it's useless, that Jake can't or won't help them.' She could hear the indignation in his voice. 'If you can't trust the police to take care of you, to do their jobs the right way, then what's the point?' He paused, but she knew he wasn't expecting an answer. 'It's not right, Sara. It's just not right.'
Twenty-four hours ago, she had wanted to kill him, but now all that she could think was that she had never loved him so much as she did right now.
'Can you imagine how you'd feel if something like this happened in Grant County?'
Sara could not imagine such a violation. The first time she had met Jeffrey had been on the Grant County High School football field. She was team doctor, watching the game from the sidelines. Sara had turned around for some reason, looking up into the stands. That was when she'd seen Jeffrey with Clem Waters, the mayor. He loomed over the man, making Clem look like a dwarf. There was something about Jeffrey's presence that made it difficult for Sara to breathe. She had never told him this before, but her heart had stopped at the sight of him. When she saw him walk down onto the field, her knees had actually felt weak. If a player hadn't managed at that very moment to get the crap knocked out of him, she would have made an absolute fool of herself. As it was, she had only been a partial fool.
She wrapped her arms around him. 'You wouldn't let it happen,' she assured him. 'Not in our town. Not ever.'
He pressed his lips to the top of her head, then reached over and turned out the lamp on the bedside table. Sara settled back in, curling her body into his. She felt herself relax just as she felt him tense.
She asked, 'What's wrong?'
'Do you smell something burning?'
'After today, that's all I smell.'
'No.' Jeffrey turned the lamp back on. 'I mean it. Something's burning.'
'I can't smell—'
He got out of bed and slipped on his jeans. Reluctantly, Sara sat up, knowing that he wouldn't go to sleep until he located the source of the smell. Considering the state of the hotel, she wouldn't be surprised if the electrical wiring was smoking.
He pulled back the drapes and checked the parking lot. 'I can't see anything.'
'I don't suppose that means you'll come back to bed?'
Jeffrey slipped on a T-shirt from the suitcase and opened the door. He stood there, letting the cold in, sniffing the air. 'It's coming from outside.'
She stood up. 'I can smell it now.'
They both put on their shoes before walking out into the parking lot.
Sara pulled the sleeves of her sweatshirt down over her hands to fight the nighttime chill. Outside, the odor was more intense, like smoke from a roaring campfire. The sound of crackling was obvious, too, and they both followed the noise to a tunnel that ran along the back of the motel's front office.
There was a crowd of guests gathered at the end of the tunnel, all of them looking as if they were embarrassed to be seen here. Their fear of being caught by their neighbors and spouses could not compete with the desire to watch a spectacle. And spectacular the sight was: the building next to the motel was surrounded by flames, smoke wafting into the night sky.
As Jeffrey and Sara reached the front of the crowd, the windows blew out of the building with an earth-shaking explosion. Jeffrey put his arm around Sara, turning her away from the debris. There was another loud boom. The front door blew off and skittered across the parking lot.
Jeffrey had to raise his voice over the roar of the fire to ask, 'Has anyone called nine-one-one?'
Someone from the crowd answered, 'Twice.'
Jeffrey told Sara, 'That's Hank's bar.'
'I hope no one is in there,' she answered, shielding her eyes with her hand to block out the intense light. The flames seemed to be concentrated around the periphery of the building, as if someone had poured gasoline around the outside and lit a match. With the windows gone, the fire was working its way in, following the line of the studs and beams, dancing across the roof. If there were fire sprinklers in the building, they weren't working. Sara guessed the bar would be completely engulfed within the next five minutes.
There was a piercing noise, like a hurt animal or maybe a siren. Sara glanced down the road, expecting a fire truck, but there were only a couple of cars and a motorcycle driving slowly by.
'Lena,' Jeffrey murmured, striding toward the building.
Through one of the broken windows, Sara saw a figure move to the middle of the bar. In the glowing light, she could tell that the person was looking at something in his hands.
'Hey, you!' Jeffrey had obviously realized what Sara had: that the person inside wasn't Lena after all, but a man with broad shoulders and a stocky build. He looked up when Jeffrey called again, but he made no move to leave.
Jeffrey turned back toward Sara. He nodded once, as if to say, 'You know I have to do this,' then ran toward the building.
'Jeffrey!' she called. It was too dangerous. The fire would reach the man in seconds. 'Jeffrey!'
He jumped back as a wall of flames shot up in front of him, but would not give up. Ignoring Sara's pleas, he circled the building, looking for another way to reach the man.
'No,' Sara whispered, helplessly watching Jeffrey dart into the burning building. Inside, the man's shirt was on fire now, but insanely he turned away from Jeffrey, disappearing farther into the building. Jeffrey chased after him, reaching out, then they both vanished.
'No,' Sara repeated, waiting, watching the open doorway for Jeffrey. She circled, glass crunching under her shoes, scanning the building, looking through the gaping holes where windows used to be. She had gone halfway round the bar and was standing at the edge of the woods when there was a loud explosion, this one so intense that it knocked her to the ground.
Seconds passed. Her ears rang, her brain felt enveloped in static. Sara shook her head, debris falling from her hair. She pressed her hands into the packed dirt and sat up on her side. Flames shot up from the building. Her skin felt singed by the heat. She managed to get to her knees, but could not stand. Her mouth opened, but she could not speak.
'Sara!' Jeffrey came running out of the woods, sliding on the dirt as he dropped to his knees beside her. 'Are you okay?' He put his hands on either side of her face. 'Are you hurt?'
She put her hands over his. 'I thought—'
The distinctive wail of a siren filled the air. This time, there was no mistaking that the noise came from a fire truck. The back wheels screeched as it pulled into the parking lot, an ambulance right behind it. The firemen scrambled like ants as they hooked up hoses and directed people away from the blazing building.
'Sara,' Jeffrey repeated. 'Talk to me. Are you hurt?'
She shook her head, collapsing against him, her arms so tight around his waist that she was surprised he could still breathe.
'You're okay,' he told her, stroking back her hair. 'You're okay.'
Sara couldn't trust herself to open her mouth without sobbing. She felt numb, caught in a vacuum that muffled sound and sensation.
Jeffrey coughed, and she loosened her grip around him but did not let go.
She'd thought he was dead. For that split second, she'd seen her life without him, felt what it would be like to lose him.
'He ran into the woods,' Jeffrey told her, as if she gave a damn about the man who'd lured him into the building. 'He had something in his hands. I couldn't see what it was.'
One of the paramedics knelt beside Sara, put his hand to her back. 'Ma'am, are you okay?'
She managed to nod her head. Shock. She must be in shock.
The other paramedic asked, 'Can you breathe? Do you need some oxygen?'
She had to clear her throat before she could tell him, 'No.' Obviously he did not believe her. He tried to put a mask over her mouth but she pushed him away.
Jeffrey looked worried. 'Maybe you should—'
'I'm okay,' she told them all, feeling foolish having so many people fuss over her. She pulled on Jeffrey's shirt, trying to stand. He practically lifted her off the ground, his arm around her waist. She put her hand over his to keep it there.
She told him, 'I want to go back to the room.' He didn't ask questions. He led her through the crowd, using his hand to push people aside and make a path. They were all staring, and Sara looked down at the ground, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, holding Jeffrey as closely as she could.
'Hold on, Chief.' It was Jake Valentine.
'Not now,' Jeffrey told him.
He took off his ball cap. 'If you could just—'
'Not now,' Jeffrey repeated, tightening his grip around Sara's waist. The lights from the snack machines were flickering as they walked by, the compressors buzzing like a hive. Sara hadn't closed the door properly when they'd left the room and Jeffrey slowly pushed it open with one hand. She could feel his body tense as he looked around, made sure no one was inside.
He tried not to make a big show of it, but he kept Sara behind him as he checked out the small room that held the toilet and the tub. Once he was certain they were alone, he turned on the faucet and took a rag off the towel rack.
'I want to know why he ran,' Jeffrey said, wetting the cloth, his mind still on the man in the building.
Sara pushed herself up onto the countertop, feet dangling above the floor. Her senses were coming back. She could smell an acidic mix of smoke and sweat coming off Jeffrey's body. His shirt was wet with perspiration and soot.
He said, 'I couldn't get a good look at him. Smoke was everywhere.'
'Can you breathe okay?' she asked, the doctor part of her brain whirring to life. 'Does your chest or throat hurt?'
He shook his head. 'Come here.' Carefully, he washed her face with the rag, saying, 'There's a stream that runs behind the building, some kind of shack beside it. The guy tripped down the bank and fell into the water. I thought I'd catch him then, but he just disappeared.' Jeffrey picked something out of Sara's hair and threw it into the trashcan. 'I couldn't tell if he dropped what he was carrying. Whatever he had, he thought it was worth running into a burning building for.' He rinsed out the rag. She could see that it was spotted with dirt and wondered what her face looked like. He finished, 'Then the building blew, and I saw you go down.'
She felt something cool on her cheeks and realized that she was crying.
'Hey, now,' Jeffrey said, wiping her tears. 'You're okay.'
Emotions came rushing in. Sara didn't give a damn about herself. 'I just ... you went into that building, and then the next thing I saw ... I thought you were .
..'
He gave her a curious smile, as if she was overreacting. 'Come on, babe. I'm fine.'
She touched his face, tried to keep her hands from shaking. Sara knew that Jeffrey was attracted to her toughness, her independence. She couldn't be that person right now, couldn't let him think for a moment that she could survive without him. 'I don't know what I would do if something happened to you.'
'Come on.' He tried to make a joke of it. 'You'd have a line of guys waiting to take my place.'
Sara shook her head, unable to play along. 'Don't say that.'
'Maybe Nick Shelton would finally get his shot. Y'all could get matching necklaces.'
She kissed him, feeling grit on his lips. Sara didn't care. She opened her mouth to him, wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her legs around his hips, pulling him as close as possible. She wanted to feel every part of his body, to know that he still belonged to her. Something frantic took hold, and she tore the neck of his shirt trying to take it off.
'Hey—' He pulled back, that same curious smile on his face. 'We're okay, all right? We're fine.'
We, he had said, but that had never been her concern. She could see right through him – that his smile didn't really reach his eyes, that he was talking too fast, that he was worried about something – too worried to tell her about it. She touched the tips of her fingers to his lips, let them travel down his neck, his chest. When she scratched her fingernails down the front of his jeans, he finally stopped smiling.
'Don't ever leave me,' she told him, unbuttoning his jeans, opening the fly. It sounded like a threat, but she was speaking out of sheer terror at the thought of her life without him. 'Don't ever leave.'
He was ready even before she wrapped her hand around him. His tongue went deep into her mouth as he kissed her, long, firm strokes that matched her own. Sara kissed back harder, used both hands to tease him until he jerked down her pants and spread her legs apart. She slid to the edge of the counter, putting her full weight onto him as he pushed inside of her. Again he tried to slow her down, but she gripped the counter with one hand and thrust against him, quickening his pace.
'Fuck ...' he breathed, slamming her back against the mirror, kissing and biting her neck. She felt his teeth graze her breast, his hands gripping her ass as he pushed harder, deeper. Sara dug her fingernails into his back, knowing how close he was, wanting nothing more than for him to let go.
A Grant County Collection: Indelible, Faithless and Skin Privilege Page 100
