Dawson's Stand (Welcome to Covendale Book 4) (7 page)

Luka’s expression changed instantly to concern. “Of course you’re coming back,” she said. “Did you think—oh, I’m not mad at you! Am I, Donovan?” The anger returned as she looked at the deputy. “What’s going on here?” she said. “I swear to God, if your partner has anything to do with this, I’m going to the sheriff myself.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I can’t discuss an open investigation with you.”

“Don’t you ‘ma’am’ me, Nick.”

“Luka, please.” The deputy looked almost frantic. “I really am sorry. I have to do my job. But I promise she’ll be back, safe and sound.”

Luka sighed and relented a little. “She’d better.”

He nodded. “Miss…uh, Kyla? Could you come with me, please?”

“Okay.” She tried to smile, though she felt downright sick. “Thank you, Luka.”

“Don’t worry about it. And listen, if this has to do with Dean Wesley, don’t let him push you around. He’s nothing but a bully with a badge.”

It was all she could do not to laugh. This definitely concerned Dean, but things were completely opposite to what Luka thought. Kyla had been the one to push him around last night—and now she had to answer for it.

She only hoped they wouldn’t lock her up right away.

The deputy, Nick, led her outside to a police car parked next to her truck, and opened the passenger door. She frowned and looked from the car to him. “Don’t the police usually put people in the back seat?” she said. “I mean, in case they try to escape or something.”

He smiled. “Are you planning an escape?”

“Well, no. But…”

“Don’t worry, ma’am. The sheriff just wants to get a statement from you. That means you get to ride shotgun.”

“All right. Thank you.”

She climbed in and fastened her seat belt, trying to ignore the heavy weight in her gut. The last time she’d been to a police station, things hadn’t turned out well. The officers had barely listened to her—and even after she told them exactly who’d given her a black eye and a split lip, they’d called her husband to get her. One of them had actually held her arm when she tried to run, and then physically handed her over to Mike.

Knowing that couldn’t possibly happen this time didn’t make her feel any better.

Nick slid behind the wheel and backed out with practiced ease, then headed down Main Street. “I am sorry about this,” he said without looking at her. “But I’m sure it won’t take long. Oh, and we haven’t really met, have we?”

She managed a smile. “I gather your name is Nick Donovan.”

“Yes. Luka and I were in high school around the same time.” He smirked. “Dean too. Obviously, she doesn’t like him much.”

“Looks that way.” She thought of Gage last night, and the way he looked when he said
he hurt my sister.
Dislike was probably an understatement. “Well, I guess you know my name already,” she said.

“Kyla.” He glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. “Wouldn’t think you’d be so hard to find with a name like that, in a town like this. Even without a last name to go on. But I’ve been looking for you all morning.”

She decided not to mention that she wanted to be hard to find. That might sound a little suspicious to the police. “Um, how far are we going?”

“Actually, we’re here.” Nick signaled and turned right, toward a brick building situated on a low hill. He drove around to the back and parked between two other police cars. “Okay,” he said. “If you’ll just follow me, I’ll take you to the sheriff.”

She nodded and took a moment to gather her nerves before she got out of the car. Nick led her through a back door, into a dimly lit hallway that didn’t help her feel very settled. They passed a closed door with a large, reinforced glass window, and she happened to glance into the room beyond it. What she saw wrenched her heart.

Gage Dawson sat alone at a bare table, elbows propped on the surface and hands laced behind his head. His eye looked worse than it had last night, and his expression was pure misery and resignation. She couldn’t help thinking of the opinion everyone in this town seemed to have about him. That and his ongoing feud with Dean Wesley painted a grim picture—one she didn’t like at all. One that suggested this wasn’t the first time he’d been dragged in here for something Dean started.

Suddenly, she was a lot more angry than nervous.

She stopped short and folded her arms. “What is he doing here?”

Nick turned slowly. “Who?”

“Him.” She pointed to the closed door. “Gage. He didn’t do anything.”

“Um. Well, he…” Nick sighed and took a step toward her. “Look, you’ll have to talk to the sheriff,” he said. “He can straighten everything out, all right?”

“Fine.”

She tried to calm down as they started moving again. Angry as she was, this was still a police station, and there wasn’t much she could do if this sheriff decided not to listen to her. She had to come across as sane and believable, instead of an emotional wreck.

Nick stopped at a door that read
Bradford Tanner, Sheriff
, and knocked once, but didn’t bother waiting for a response before he opened it. “Hey, Sheriff,” he said. “Found our mystery woman.”

“Well, bring her on in.”

The voice belonged to a man who was almost taller than her when he was seated. He had a stern face, but his eyes seemed kind—and highly alert. They didn’t leave her as she walked slowly into the office and tried to look less afraid than she felt.

“You’re a hard person to find.” The sheriff glanced past her and nodded, and Nick left the room, closing the door behind him. “Have a seat, please.”

Kyla took the chair across from the desk. “Sheriff, I—”

“Hold on, young lady. Let’s make sure we’re on the same page before we get started.” He flipped open a small notebook on the desk in front of him. “Is your name Kyla, and were you at The Klinker last night when there was a fight in the parking lot?”

She sighed. “Yes.”

“Okay. Now we’re getting somewhere.” He turned to a blank page and picked up a pen. “First, I’m going to need a little more information about you. Last name?”

“Fin—I mean, Harding.”

The sheriff raised an eyebrow. “Do you know your own last name?”

“Yes. It’s just…I’m not used to it. My divorce just went through.”

“You look a little young to be divorced,” he said.

“It’s a long story.” She clasped her hands together, in case they decided to start shaking. “Anyway, it was Finley. Now it’s Harding.”

“Finley?” With a slight frown, the sheriff opened a desk drawer and started shuffling through it. “That name sounds familiar. Think I’ve got something…yup, here it is.” He extracted an off-white folder, dropped it on the desk and opened it. “Some lawyer contacted me about a year ago, asking us to keep an eye out for a Michael Finley. Said there was a pretty serious restraining order on the guy and he wasn’t to be allowed in town.”

“Ralph.” She couldn’t help smiling. “He called you?”

“Twice, actually. I only remembered now because the second time was yesterday. That when your divorce went through?”

“Yes, it was.” The uneasy feeling she’d had about her husband suddenly deciding to sign the papers for no reason came back, stronger than ever. “Did Ralph think that Mike would try to come here now?”

“Didn’t seem that way. He said he just wanted to make sure we still had the information on file.”

“All right.” She managed to relax a little, but something just didn’t feel right about this.

The sheriff stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he pushed the folder aside and grabbed the pen again. “Let’s get this statement out of the way,” he said. “Address?”

She gave it to him, and answered a few more minor questions. The sheriff jotted in the notebook as she spoke. Then he put the pen down and folded his hands on the desk. “Okay. Now in your own words, tell me what happened last night.”

Nodding, she closed her eyes briefly and let out a breath before she began. She confessed to having a few drinks, and described what she’d seen in the parking lot that made her decide to do something—how it was four against one, and they looked serious. How she’d rushed out and told them to stop, but one of them didn’t.

She faltered a bit when she came to the part about spraying Dean with Mace.

When she was finished, Sheriff Tanner gave a slow blink and sat up straighter. “So you’re what, about five-two and a hundred pounds soaking wet?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Means you have a bucket of guts, young lady.” He actually smiled. “It’s a compliment.”

“Not really,” she said. “I just don’t like seeing people get pushed around.”

“I think I can guess why.” He tapped the folder with the report from Ralph. “All right. This seems like a clear case of justifiable defense, so you’re free to go. Thanks for coming down and cooperating.”

“Wait.” Her heart shifted into rapid gear, and she tried to sound calm as she said, “What about Gage?”

The sheriff frowned. “What about him?”

“You have to let him go. He didn’t do anything.”

“Funny. That’s exactly what he said about you.” Sheriff Tanner stood, and she felt dizzy just looking up at him. “I am letting him go, this time. Despite my better judgment.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

The sheriff shook his head. “I told him if he gave me the truth, he could go. He lied anyway—and Gage Dawson is a terrible liar. But now I know why he did it. He was trying to protect you.”

For a moment she couldn’t breathe. He’d lied to protect her, even knowing they’d lock him up for it. Who would do that for someone they just met?

Maybe the same kind of person who’d Mace a stranger to save someone she’d only talked to once.

“Are you letting him go right now?” she said.

“Yes.” He smiled again, with a touch of exasperation. “If you don’t mind waiting out front, I’ll bring him out to you. I get the feeling he’ll be happy to see you.”

“I will. Thank you, Sheriff.”

She followed him out of the office, and decided she’d definitely take Gage up on his offer. Tonight, if he was okay with that. She suspected the best pie in Covendale would be even better with his company.

* * * *

Gage didn’t bother looking up when he heard the door open. This was the part where Sheriff Tanner took him to a cell, lecturing him the whole way. He’d get to spend the weekend ignoring Dean, who’d try to piss him off enough to react so the sheriff would hold him longer. And maybe his brothers would come in to give him more hell for good measure.

“All right, Dawson. You’re free to go.”

That wasn’t right. It was Sheriff Tanner’s voice, but the words couldn’t have been what he heard. He stared at the man, and said, “Come again, Sheriff?”

“You heard me. Now move, before I change my mind.”

Gage got up slowly. There was only one way the sheriff would let him go, and he didn’t like it. “Kyla,” he said. “If you’re holding her—”

“Relax, son.” Sheriff Tanner almost looked amused. “She told me the truth, so now you both get to leave. See how easy that is? You should try it sometime.”

“Where is she?”

“Out front, waiting for you.”

The coiled tension in him relaxed slightly. “Thanks,” he said. “I guess.”

Shaking his head, the sheriff stepped back and gestured for him to come out of the room. “Nothing personal, Mr. Dawson, but I’d rather not see you again for a while. Understand?”

“Yeah. The feeling is mutual.” He stepped into the hallway and leveled a look at the sheriff. “Maybe if you told your deputy to back off, we’d both get our wish.”

Tanner sighed. “Just…try to stay out of trouble.”

“I always do.”

Without waiting for a response, Gage turned and headed away. He knew his way around the station well enough. At the end of this hall, a left went around the offices and the bullpen to end in the front lobby, and a right led past the records to the holding cells. There were four of them—and he’d been locked up in every one.

But he wouldn’t be this time. And once again, he had Kyla to thank for it.

He reached the lobby, and found it deserted. The receptionist was usually out here, at least. She must’ve gone to the bathroom or something. And maybe by “out front,” the sheriff meant that Kyla was waiting outside.

Then he realized there was someone else missing. Jenny wouldn’t have left just because Tanner told her to stay out of it. She’d want to get her revenge. And she would be pissed if she found out Kyla was free to go.

With a sinking heart, Gage rushed out the front entrance—and spotted Kyla halfway down the walk, backing away from a furious Jenny.

Chapter 7

It hadn’t even been a full day, and Kyla was already considering using her Mace again. She was going to become a regular vigilante if things kept going like this.

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” she said as calmly as she could, taking another step back. She’d been waiting out here maybe five minutes when the woman from last night, Jenny, came charging out of the police station screaming about how she should be locked up. “I’ve already apologized. I didn’t want to hurt anyone, but—”

“Well, you did. You could’ve crippled him,” Jenny said with a sneer. “This is why nobody around here likes the Dawsons. They’re all trash…and so’s anybody who hangs out with them.”

“I’d love to hear you say that to my face.”

The cold voice came from behind Jenny. A moment later, Gage stepped around and pinned the woman with a furious stare. “Well?” he said. “Go ahead. Call my family trash again.”

Jenny blanched. “You are,” she said. “You, and your psycho brothers, and your lying little slut sister.”

“Stop it!” Kyla rushed up beside Gage, her stomach churning with shock and horror. “What’s wrong with you? You’re such a…rude person!”

The woman gave a mocking smile. “Too nice to call me a bitch?” she said. “Well, let me show you how it’s done. Stay away from me and my man, bitch.” She planted a hand on her hip and glared at Gage. “I’m going to talk to the sheriff. One way or another, you’re going down. Both of you.” With that, she spun and stalked back into the police station.