More Than a Touch (Snowberry Creek #2) (12 page)

BOOK: More Than a Touch (Snowberry Creek #2)
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Make that his
former
teammates.

He shut the door on that line of thought. Instead, he concentrated on the sweet glide of the cue stick through his fingers. Time to start calling the shots, and not just in this game of pool.

“Green in the corner pocket.”

He gave the cue ball a solid tap, which sent it rolling in a straight line toward the far end of the table. When the white ball hit its intended target with a soft thunk, the green one went tumbling in the corner pocket.

Mitch smiled and moved on to the next shot. As he studied the table, he realized that for the first time since his knee had been ripped apart, he was enjoying himself.

When the next ball tipped into the side pocket, he reached for his drink, held it out to clink bottles with Leif. “Here’s to BEER, my friend, and to shooting pool. The next round is on me.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Leif said, grinning widely. “Bartender, two more and a bottled water for my furry friend here.”

He reached down to pat his buddy Mooch on the head. The dog wagged his tail and licked Leif’s hand before settling back down in the corner he’d staked out as his own.

While they waited for their drinks to arrive, Mitch ran the rest of the table.

“Rack ’em up again, Corporal. I’m on a roll.”

•   •   •

Leif made a quick trip to the men’s room. When he stepped back out into the bar, he frowned and sniffed the air. Something smelled good enough to have his stomach rumbling. Had he eaten anything since breakfast other than stale peanuts? Not that he could remember. Rather than heading straight back to the pool table where Mitch was practicing some trick shots, he stopped by the bar.

“Can we get six burgers, two plain and the rest with the works? A couple of orders of fries and onion rings, too.”

He pulled out his wallet and handed over a couple of twenties. “Keep the change on that and give us a yell when it’s ready.”

When he strolled back over to the pool table, he whistled for Mooch. The dog had been remarkably patient and seemingly content to doze in the corner while Leif and Mitch played pool and tried out a few trick shots.

“Come on, boy. You’re due for a trip outside.”

The dog sprang up, tail wagging a mile a minute. Before they left, Leif figured he should let Mitch know where he’d be. He waited until the quarterback made his shot.

“Mooch and I are going to take a lap around the parking lot. I ordered some food for the three of us. It’s all paid for, so keep an eye on the bartender. He’s going to give us the high sign when it’s ready.”

“Will do.”

Leif headed for the door and let Mooch out. He immediately reached down to catch him by the collar to keep him from charging out in front of an enormous pickup pulling into the lot in a spray of gravel and dirt. Assholes.

“This way, dog. We need to stick to the woods so you don’t end up as some idiot’s hood ornament.”

Mooch dutifully followed the line of sorry-looking shrubs along the side of the building to the tree line. He took care of business and then wandered around for a few minutes, nose to the ground and tail in constant motion.

After he’d done a thorough job of inspecting the area, Leif called him to heel. “Come on, buddy. I suspect lunch is ready.”

Then he really looked around. When had it gotten dark? “Make that dinner. Damn, no wonder my stomach is growling. Let’s get back inside before Mitch eats all the fries.”

Mooch ranged out ahead of Leif as if taking point. When he was within a few feet of the door, he slowed down. His tail quit moving and his head came up. The dog glanced back at Leif and growled softly. What the hell had set off that reaction?

As a precaution, Leif changed his grip on his cane so that he was holding it about halfway down its length. As much as he hated the damn thing, at least it could prove useful as a weapon. He opened the door, glad for once that the interior was almost as dim as the light out in the parking lot so that his eyes needed no time to adjust.

Mooch continued to growl. He looked up at Leif, probably wanting to take his cue from him. Yeah, trouble was brewing. Three guys that Leif hadn’t seen before had Mitch cornered. So far, only words were being exchanged, but Leif had witnessed enough bar brawls to know when fists were about to fly. He, Nick, and Spence had waded into more than a few themselves.

He hadn’t known Mitch long, but damned if he was going to stand there and watch the man get beaten to a pulp. Flexing his fingers on the cane, he and Mooch sidled around to the left, trying to reach Mitch’s side before all hell broke loose. As they made their move, he listened in on the conversation between Mitch and the newcomers.

On the surface, the quarterback sounded all reasonable, but there was a thread of tension in his voice warning he could switch gears any second. “Well, boys, I understand that you usually use this table, but my friend and I are playing here today. I’ll be glad to let you know when we’re done with it.”

The biggest of his three opponents was shaking his head. “Listen, prick, I said that was our table. If you walk away now, we might just let you leave peacefully.”

Mitch stood leaning against the pool table looking relaxed as he smiled at the three men. Leif might have even bought the charade if Mitch hadn’t had the cue ball in his throwing hand and his left hand resting oh so casually on a cue stick. He was willing to bet that the first man that made a wrong move would get hit with the ball and the second would see the business end of that stick swinging straight at him.

Mitch shook his head sadly. “I’m pretty sure it’s first come, first served around here. My friend just ordered another round of beers and some burgers, so we’re here for the long haul. Leave now, and we might just wave bye-bye when you walk out.”

Oh, yeah, things were about to get interesting. Leif risked a quick glance toward the bartender. Was he the kind of guy who broke up fights with a ball bat or called nine-one-one and let the police bat in the cleanup position? Good—he was already dialing the phone.

Meanwhile, most of the rest of the customers were heading for the back exit. The only ones hanging back were the two who’d met Nick and knew about Mooch. He didn’t expect them to wade in on the fight, but at the very least they might prevent anyone else from doing so. There was no telling how many friends the trio had in the bar.

Meanwhile, the big guy was back to shooting off his mouth. “You talk pretty big, mister, for a man with no backup. Where’s this friend of yours? ’Cause he’ll need to scrape up your bloody carcass and haul it out of our way so we can play pool without stepping over it all night. Wouldn’t want to get blood all over my work boots.”

“Good one, Butch!”

The other two yucked it up, clearly thinking their friend was quite the comedian. Leif gave up all pretense of stealth and positioned himself near Mitch, but not so close that they would get in each other’s way.

“I’m right here, asshole.”

Mooch stood between Mitch and Leif with his hackles standing straight up and a deep growl rumbling in his chest. The canny dog stared at the spokesman for the trio, clearly taking his measure and snarling his opinion.

The guy might not be afraid of Mitch, but he took a step back after getting a good look at Mooch’s teeth. “Hey, who the fuck said you could bring a dumb animal in here?”

Leif laughed. “I guess they figured letting you hang out in here all the time set the precedent.”

It took Butch a couple of seconds to recognize the insult and react. “You son of a bitch!”

His fist delivered a glancing blow to Leif’s jaw about the same time Mitch took out Butch’s wingman with the cue ball. Mooch retaliated by grabbing the guy on the left by the leg of his jeans, which threw the man off balance until one swing of Mitch’s cue stick took him out of the fight completely.

The police were already filing in the front door by the time Leif and Mitch piled on Butch and dragged the big man to the floor. Unfortunately, they still had to cross the length of the bar to get to them. Leif’s head was ringing and his jaw hurt bad enough to prevent any clear thought except the need to fight back. He aimed for the ribs and kept swinging hard and fast until someone grabbed him by the collar and yanked him off the pile.

Leif came up sputtering and ready to wade right back in and engage the new enemy. Someone hollered his name and shoved him against the closest wall hard enough to break through the red glaze of pure fury that had him by the balls.

“Stand down, Corporal! Right now!”

Breathing hard and hurting, Leif fought to fill his lungs with air. Finally, he raised his head and squinted in the dim light of the bar to reassess the situation. When he recognized Gage Logan standing in front of him, it finally sank in that the battle was over, and he held up his hands in surrender.

C
hapter 12

L
eif figured he should be worried about spending the night in a jail cell, but he wasn’t. In truth, he was far more concerned about what would happen to Mooch if that happened. The dog didn’t deserve to spend hours locked up in an animal control cage because of him.

“You doing okay?”

The question was accompanied by a moan, meaning Mitch sounded as bad as Leif felt right now. He popped one eye open long enough to study his condition. Yep, just as he expected—the football player had one helluva shiner blossoming around his right eye, and his knuckles were bruised and bloody. How had the other three idiots fared? Not that he cared; not much anyway.

He finally answered the man’s question. “I’ll survive. Probably. Not sure I want to, though.”

As soon as he opened his mouth, a shaft of pain reminded him to duck the next time somebody’s fist came flying straight toward his face. He rubbed his jaw. Nothing was broken, but it could be a couple of days before he’d be up to chewing anything more solid than scrambled eggs.

“Any idea how much trouble we’re in? Does Chief Logan have a reputation for being hard-nosed when it comes to bar brawls?”

Mitch gave him an incredulous look. “How the hell am I supposed to know something like that? It’s not like I’ve had much experience in getting arrested, especially back here in Snowberry Creek.”

Then he grinned and added, “Lately, anyway.”

In truth, neither did Leif. There’d been a time or two that he and Spence had come close, but Nick had managed to rescue their sorry asses, or at least facilitate a last-minute escape.

Right now all Leif wanted was a handful of aspirin and his bed. He’d never gotten to eat even a single bite of the burgers he’d bought and paid for, which meant all that beer on an empty stomach had left him hungover and queasy. Whenever he opened his eyes, the room spun like a fucking top, but he wasn’t sure if that was because of the punch he took or because of the alcohol.

Most likely it was an unfortunate combination of both.

The ominous sound of footsteps heading their way had both men sitting up straighter. Even at the cost of a fresh wave of nausea, Leif wouldn’t face his fate cowering in a corner.

Gage Logan stepped into the room and glared first at Leif and then Mitch. The man looked just as pissed now as he had when he and his deputy had grimly set about separating the five men. At the time, Leif had been busy throwing punches as part of the brawling mob rolling around on the floor back at the bar. Oh, shit, had any of those flying fists connected with one of the policemen instead of its intended target? If so, there’d be hell to pay.

Gage definitely didn’t like it when Mitch started laughing for no apparent reason. “You find this funny, Calder? If so, you might want to share the joke.”

Leif expected the man to have the good sense to shut up, but for some reason Mitch clearly found Gage’s question hilarious. He finally regained enough control to speak two words that he directed toward Leif.

“Principal’s office.”

Okay, now Leif had to swallow hard to keep from joining in the merriment. Mitch was right, though. The two of them had already been called on the carpet in Isaac’s office for bad behavior. This was just more of the same, even though a helluva lot more serious.

If he hadn’t happened to glance at the police chief at the right moment, he would’ve missed seeing that Gage was fighting to hide his own smile. Maybe the man had his own experience in that vein even if that small bit of good humor disappeared as quickly as it had come.

“What the hell were you thinking?” He definitely had his chief of police hat on now. “Because I’m telling you right now that you’ve managed to rack up quite a list of charges.”

He held up his hand and ticked them off on his fingers. “Drunk and disorderly, assault, resisting arrest, property damage, cruelty to an animal. Need I go on?”

That last one sobered Leif up faster than a pot of strong coffee would have. “Where’s Mooch? Is he okay?”

“The dog is fine, which is more than I can say for you two idiots.”

Gage pulled over a chair and swung it around and straddled the seat, resting his arms on the back. “Here’s how this is going to play out. You will write the bar owner a check for the damages. Lucky for you, Grainger is only asking for the price of one cue stick and an hour’s salary at time and a half for the mess his bartender had to clean up.”

Gage paused, maybe to give their beer-soaked brains time to catch up. “If his bill is paid by noon tomorrow, he won’t press charges. To be clear, that’s noon on Wednesday. Since it’s already after midnight, it’s now Tuesday morning. I’m guessing neither of you will be in any shape to do much of anything until you get some sleep.”

“What about the other three guys? They started it.”

As soon as Leif asked the question, he wished he hadn’t. Gage clearly didn’t appreciate it, either.

“They started it? Seriously, is that all you have to say for yourself? Tell me, Corporal, are you stuck back in grade school?” Gage pinned Leif with a hard look. “But to answer your question, those three are a constant thorn in my side. Again, luckily for you, the bartender and a couple of the other patrons backed up your version of the story. I’ve already read them the riot act and sent their worthless asses back home in a squad car.”

“Sorry, sir. No disrespect meant.” Something about Gage’s demeanor left Leif fighting the urge to salute. He doubted the police chief would appreciate the gesture, though. “I’ll make sure he gets the money.”

Mitch spoke up again. “No, I’ll take care of it. I was the one who egged them on in the first place. Besides, you paid for the burgers and fries.”

What did that have to do with anything? Either way, he wasn’t going to fight over their financial issues in front of Gage. “We’ll get it handled, Gage.”

“Damn straight you will. And even though Grainger isn’t pressing charges, I’m not going to let you off that easily. We have a volunteer community service program run out of the mayor’s office that helps elderly citizens with their yard work. Here’s the contact information. I expect you both to put in a few hours.”

He held out a business card to each of them. “Now, Mitch, get your ass out of here. My deputy will drive you home. You can pick up your car at the bar tomorrow.”

Mitch looked confused. “But what about Leif? I already admitted that I started the fight.”

That wasn’t exactly true. Even if Leif appreciated Mitch’s effort to shoulder the blame, he couldn’t let him. “Yeah, but when they complained about a dog being in the bar, I’m the one who told them that the bartender had to let Mooch in because Butch’s presence had established a clear precedent that the place catered to dumb animals.”

This time Gage didn’t bother hiding his grin. “Seriously, that’s what you said?”

Leif gave a careful nod, not sure he should risk acting proud of his actions. “Yeah, I did. That’s when Butch punched me in the jaw.”

Mitch took over. “I hit the second guy with the cue ball and his buddy with the pool cue. It took both of us to take Butch to the ground. I know it was two against one, but in our defense, we were both hampered by our injured legs.”

He gave in and grinned again. “Well, that and the copious amounts of beer we’d consumed by that point.”

Gage held up his hand. “That’s enough, both of you. Don’t tell me any more. Mitch, go now or I will lock you up.”

The quarterback still hesitated. Leif waved him on. “Go while the getting is good. I’ll be fine.”

He hoped so, anyway. Finally, Mitch limped toward the door. “Leif, if you need anything, call me. Otherwise, I’ll see you at physical therapy. Afterward, we can go pay our bill at the bar.”

“Sounds good, man. And despite it all, I had a good time tonight. We’ll have to do it again.”

He shot Gage a sheepish look. “At least parts of it.”

Mitch was chuckling again as he disappeared down the hall. By the time he was out of hearing, Gage was back to giving Leif the evil eye.

“Okay, Leif, do you have any idea how worried Callie was about you? She actually tried to report you as missing when you didn’t come home by late in the evening. She said you left for a therapy appointment yesterday morning, but then both you and Mooch disappeared with no explanation. I can tell you right now that I don’t ever want to see her that scared again, not because of something stupid you’ve done.”

Leif folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair, trying to look far more relaxed than he was. “Why would she panic like that?”

“Because she cares about you. With Nick gone, she doesn’t need this kind of crap from you.”

Now the sick feeling in Leif’s gut had nothing to do with beer or a bar brawl. “I’m sorry she worried, but I’m fine.”

“Yeah, right. Sure you are.”

Gage continued to stare at Leif, but now there was a bit more intensity in his gaze. “She’s waiting out in the lobby for you. Personally, I would’ve left you to rot in a cell. Maybe that would help you get your head screwed on straight.”

The lawman stood up and shoved the chair back into the corner. “Listen, Leif, I know you’ve been dealt a tough hand lately, what with your leg and Spence and everything. For that reason, I’m willing to cut you some slack, but just this once.” He took off his hat and studied it for a few seconds. “Hell, I was an Army Ranger myself, and I know it’s a bitch to be stateside where it’s safe while your friends are still in the line of fire.”

God, the last thing Leif needed right now was to be lectured. Even if Gage did have firsthand knowledge of what it was like for him right now, he wanted to shout, “Enough already!”

Instead, he gave a nondescript grunt in response and hoped that would end the matter. It didn’t.

Gage pulled a business card out of his pocket. “This is the number for Reverend Jack Haliday over at the Community Church.”

Okay, that was too much. Leif’s hold on his temper was slipping badly. He clenched his teeth and fought for control. “I don’t need to listen to a bunch of sermons.”

The lawman didn’t give an inch. “I never said you did, Leif, but you sure as hell need help of some kind. If you don’t believe me, think back to when I pulled you off Butch tonight. It may have started off as your basic bar fight, but it went way past that point with you. When I dragged you off him, you were doing your best to do some serious damage. I shudder to think how badly you would’ve hurt the stupid bastard if we hadn’t gotten there when we did. You damn well weren’t showing any sign of stopping on your own.”

There was nothing Leif could say to that, not when the man was right on target.

Gage kept talking. “Reverend Haliday is a veteran with multiple deployments under his belt. And before you ask, that was before Jack became a minister. Before that, he was infantry, so he’s been right where you are now. That’s why he started the veterans’ support group in the first place.”

Gage held out the card. “Bottom line, the price for getting to skate on this fight is that you attend at least one meeting. Fail to show up, and I’ll haul your ass right back here. Got that?”

Leif stared at the lettering on the small piece of paper. “Seriously, I don’t need this, Gage. I’m doing fine on my own.”

A snort was the lawman’s only response.

Okay, that pissed Leif off, but he was careful not to show it. “How about you, Gage? If I were to hit one of the meetings, would I find you there?”

The police chief’s expression changed and his eyes lost their focus. What kind of hell was he revisiting in his mind? Leif didn’t bother to ask; he could guess.

Gage blinked twice and was back with Leif, no longer lost in his memories. “If you want me to go with you the first time to introduce you around, give me a call.”

Leif tucked the card in his pocket. Maybe he would go and maybe he wouldn’t. Right now he felt like hell and his temper was too close to the surface to discuss it anymore. It was time to collect his dog and get the hell out of here.

He made himself act grateful. “Thanks for everything, Gage.”

As he stood up, his much abused leg demonstrated its unhappiness by refusing to support his weight. Gage lunged across the room to catch Leif before he hit the floor.
Son of a bitch, could this night get any worse?

“Let me get your cane, Leif.”

Gage was out the door before Leif could stop him. To prove he could make it on his own, he took a step by himself. From the amount of pain ripping up through his leg, tonight’s activities might have set his recovery back a bit. Okay, a whole lot. And wasn’t that going to make his next appointment with Isaac really pleasant?

He bit his lip and shuffled sideways so he could keep his hand on the wall as he walked. Better. At least he’d made it all the way to the door before Gage got back. The man didn’t have to know that Leif had taken the long way around to get there.

“Here.”

Leif accepted the proffered cane. He needed it, even though it burned him to have to admit it. “Thanks.”

Gage stood back out of the way until Leif had navigated his way out of the room and into the hall. They did a slow march down the hall to the small lobby of the police department. Sure enough, Callie was there, pacing the floor while Mooch watched her every move.

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