Snakes Among Sweet Flowers (24 page)

Harold stepped out of the shadows of the kitchen, a sinister smile on his lips. “You don’t know, Cam? Well, let me tell you, then. I’m teaching you a lesson. Your place is with me, and I can destroy anything else you try to build, especially with my money. You got it?”

“Yeah, I got it. Now leave these people alone, Harold. Just take me back to Atlanta and let’s be done with all this shit.”

Harold laughed. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? But I’m not done here. You will regret this for the rest of your life. And these people will
hate
you.”

Cam stood, his hands curling into fists, and stalked toward Harold. “Don’t you dare do anything to the people of this town, you hear me?”

“Or what, Cam? What will you do to me, hmm? You know, Detra said ‘don’t you dare do anything bad to Cam.’ Do you think that threat did a thing to save her, to save you?”

Cam released a feral scream as he dived at Harold, arms outstretched. Harold fell backward, hit the kitchen table, then they both went to the tile floor where they scuffled and rolled. Cam landed a few punches, but so did Harold before holding Cam down with a large hand around his neck and stopping the fight.

Cam gagged and kicked out at Harold, but Harold simply punched him—hard—in the gut. With a groan, Cam attempted to curl in on himself, but Harold prevented the move by bracing his knee over Cam’s thighs, then continued to punch into Cam’s abdomen, over and over.

Until Cam lay still.

WHEN CAM
stirred again, he was still on the floor, but Harold was no longer over him, and Tommasina was nudging at his hand in search of pets. With a groan, he rolled and tried to get up, every movement shooting pain through his body. Cam glanced around the dark room, on guard for another attack from Harold, but was surprised when it didn’t come.

He hobbled to the wall and flipped on the light. After wincing and shielding his eyes until they grew accustomed to the brightness, he was able to see that the back door stood wide open and there was no sign of Harold anywhere. Just to be sure, Cam closed and locked the door, then searched the entire house, including inside closets and under beds, but he was alone except for Tommasina, who followed him curiously. For a moment, he felt relief at that conclusion, but then began worrying about where he might be.

“Shit,” Cam mumbled and pulled out his cell phone. It was two in the morning. Could Harold be out in the town somewhere? Cam couldn’t take the risk.

He pushed his finger across the screen, then tapped a few times before lifting the phone to his ear. It took a few rings before he heard “Hello?” Jackson’s voice was rough from sleep and sexy as hell. Just the sound made Cam’s heart leap and then plummet as he considered that things with Jackson might never be fixed.

“Hey, Sheriff.”

“Cam…. It’s late.”

“No, listen. He was here. I know you’re not happy with me, but I need to tell someone. He was here.”

“What?” Jackson sounded much more awake. “Harold was there? Where is he now?”

“I don’t know. He beat me good and left me on the floor in the kitchen. I think I’ve been out for a while.”

“Cam! Are you okay? Do you need me to call an ambulance?” The concern in Jackson’s voice gave Cam a warm feeling, and his lip quirked up on one side in as much of a smile as his face was giving at the moment.

“Nah, Sheriff. I’m pretty tough. But he’s planning on hurting people here. He pretty much said it. I don’t think I can just sit here and wait for it to happen.” Cam’s mind was spinning with the faces of all the people he’d met in the small town, even those he’d only seen but hadn’t had a chance to get to know. “They don’t deserve to get hurt for my mistakes.”

“I’m calling Daddy. You sit tight, okay?” Jackson hung up, and Cam waited.

Cam went into the bathroom and rinsed his face off with cool water, then lifted his shirt to have a look at his severely bruised chest and abdomen. He winced just from the movement and wondered if he didn’t need to be seen by a doctor, but he really didn’t have the time. It was more important to stop Harold. That needed to be his top priority.

His phone rang, and Cam grabbed it up from the counter where he’d laid it down. “Yeah?”

“Your favorite kids are all sound asleep, Cam. Just thought I’d let you know.”

“You son of a bitch!” Cam yelled, but the line went dead. He pulled back his fist and almost punched the wall, but was able to pull up short. He needed to store all this anger up and let it out on Harold.

The phone rang again as Cam fumed. “WHAT?”

“Cam?” It was Jackson.

Cam huffed out a breath and told Jackson, “He’s at the Watsons’ house. He just called and said the kids were all sleeping sound.” Cam’s voice cracked as he said it.

“Fuck. Listen, a cruiser is coming by to pick you up.”

“No need. I’m on my way to those kids.” He hung up before Jackson could try to talk him out of it and headed for his truck. As he cranked the engine, his cell rang again, and he answered while backing out of the drive. “Yeah?”

“Cam, we’ll meet you there. Don’t go in loud, okay?” Jackson asked.

“He already knows I’ll come,” Cam responded. “He knows he’s baiting me.”

“But he doesn’t know we’re coming too, right?”

Cam huffed. Jackson might have a point. “Okay, yeah. So what’s the plan? Maybe I should go in loud and draw his attention.” He drove through the darkened town, everything closed for the night, and wondered where else Harold had gone, what other houses had he broken in to in the last couple of days while Cam didn’t even know he was in town. The thought made him grind his teeth.

There was muffled talking as Jackson conferred with someone—Cam guessed it was Walter—then Jackson said into the phone, “Okay, you go in loud, right up to the door. Maybe even honk the horn like you are trying to warn them. We’ll park down the road and come in quiet. We’re calling more backup, so let us handle any takedown, you hear?”

“Yeah, okay, I got it. See you there.” Like Cam was going to stand back and not take any chance he had to take out Harold. He sped up, an image haunting him of Harold standing over those innocent kids as they slept.

AS CAM
turned into the Watsons’ driveway, he laid on the horn, one nonstop blast until he skidded to a halt at the base of the stairs leading to the porch. He left his headlights on, aimed right at the front door, and jumped out, screaming for someone to open up as he stomped to the front door.

Cam only had to knock once before a very annoyed Junior Watson jerked the door open. It was a surprise to see Junior sober and that was obvious even just woken from a dead sleep. Cam tried to push by him, but Junior wasn’t giving an inch.

“Have you been drinking, Cam?” Junior asked.

Cam would have taken the time to joke at the irony of that question, but he needed to check on the kids. “Junior, there’s a man up in the room with your kids. Go check and ask me how I know once we’re sure they’re fine.”

Junior frowned and appeared to be ready to argue but then glanced back at the stairs, concern written on his face. He nodded and hurried off, Cam and Ruby following in his wake. Cam hadn’t gone into the house in all the times he’d been by, and he glanced around now, taking in the stark but spotless appearance of the ancient home.

The stairs squeaked, and Cam couldn’t help but think that if Harold was waiting for him, he sure knew they were coming. On the second floor, Junior threw open the first door on a narrow hallway and stepped inside. Cam pushed in behind him and waited for his eyes to adjust to the gloom.

There were four single beds crammed in the room, all with lumpy shapes snuggled in the covers. Junior pulled back the covers to check each one, and Ruby stepped around Cam to help, then she hurried across the hall and did the same in the girls’ room.

Cam stepped to the window and stared out. The screen had been cut and pulled back, either a way in or way out, maybe both.

Junior looked over Cam’s shoulder at the window and then to Cam. “You want to tell me what this is about?”

Cam nodded and left the room. As they started down the stairs, Jackson came in the front door, weapon drawn but held awkwardly in his left hand.

“The kids’ rooms look clear,” Cam told him.

“We still need to check the rest of the house,” Walter said, coming in behind Jackson. “Why don’t y’all wait outside until we do.”

Ruby looked back up the stairs, obviously worried over any threat to her kids.

“Just leave them sleeping.” Walter patted her shoulder as he passed, and she nodded and did as she was told, wringing her hands.

Once on the front lawn, Cam could make out other policemen searching through the yard and surrounding areas.

Junior turned to Cam and said, “Well?” He was dressed in an old ripped T-shirt that he might have worn to bed, a pair of jeans that looked to be hurriedly pulled on, and he wasn’t wearing shoes, but Junior looked clear-headed and honest-to-god worried about his family. It was refreshing to see.

Cam set about explaining the situation to Junior, and as he did, Ruby placed a hand over her mouth and began crying. Junior wrapped an arm around her but kept his attention on Cam.

“This the same man who keeps asking for me up at the Dairy Queen?” Junior asked.

Cam nodded. “I would imagine it is. Milky eye, about six feet, mustache and beard.”

Junior nodded back. “Sounds like the guy. So he’s after you?”

“He’s out to hurt me, Junior. And he knows I care for the people of this town, especially those kids.”

Junior frowned and looked over his shoulder at the bedroom windows where his kids slept.

“I’m sorry,” Cam said.

“You can’t help what other people do, Cam,” Junior said. “You can only control your own actions.”

It sounded like something from a twelve-step program, and Cam wondered if Junior wasn’t going to one. He hoped it worked if he was. He remembered Jackson saying that Junior fell off the wagon every so often. While that wasn’t good, it also meant that he tried to be on the wagon at times too. It was more than he could say for his own dad.

When a group of officers formed near the house, around Walter and Jackson, Cam walked closer to hear what was being said. Walter ordered a few to check farther down the street, focusing on any place Harold might could hunker down, and take care to check any windows and doors on neighboring houses. Walter made it clear they didn’t want to leave and find out Harold was in a nearby home, holding the family hostage, but that they also didn’t want to wake everyone up if there was no cause at the moment.

When the officers dispersed, leaving Walter and Jackson as control central, Cam stepped closer. Now that the adrenaline of the moment had stopped, his aches and pains were coming on, and Cam could tell the same was true for Jackson, who stood with his shoulders tense and cradling his right arm.

“You okay, Sheriff?” Cam asked quietly. He wasn’t sure what Walter had saved up to say to him and didn’t want the older man to think he was about to have some gay episode with his son right there in the middle of the Watsons’ yard.

Jackson nodded, but Cam wasn’t buying it. He glanced at Walter to find him also watching Jackson with concern.

“How about you, Cam? You said Harold got you.”

Cam ground his teeth at the reminder. The son of a bitch. Cam raised his shirt and looked down at the mottled bruises on his abdomen.

“Damn!” Walter exclaimed. “You need to be seen for that.”

Cam shrugged and dropped his shirt. “Had worse. I just want to find the son of a bitch.”

“We all do, son,” Walter agreed. When Cam glanced over at him, Walter gave him a soft smile that Cam hadn’t expected. If things were so bad, shouldn’t Walter be ready to finish him off? Because no matter what Jackson decided to do, Cam wasn’t going to go back in the closet. He wasn’t going to get a bullhorn out, but if someone asked, he wasn’t going to lie. It wasn’t some moral thing. Cam had lied more than his fair share in his life, but well, there was a lot Cam wanted to fix about himself. Being gay wasn’t one of them.

Cam sighed and looked around the yard, pausing to watch Junior comforting Ruby as she cried over the threat to her children.

“Like night and day, isn’t it?” Walter asked, gesturing toward the two. “He’s a good enough boy most of the time. Just a mean drunk.”

They both watched the couple for a moment, and then Walter turned to Jackson. “I put an APB out on Livsey. I’m sure DeKalb has too. Can you think of anything else we need to do here?”

Jackson looked like he was about to fall over. Cam wanted to stand closer and shore the guy up, but knew that would not be welcomed. So instead, Cam kept an eye on him, ready to step in and catch him if needed.

“I—we could have the patrols swing by more often,” Jackson offered.

Walter was nodding when Cam’s cell buzzed in his pocket. He frowned and looked down at the offending technology. That would be a text and he didn’t get texts, not since he had moved anyway. He dug the phone out and pushed a few buttons. The text had come from an e-mail address, [email protected], and said:

The cops? Really, Cammy boy?

Cam felt the sudden urge to vomit. He held his stomach and leaned over, knowing that if he heaved, it would hurt like hell. A big warm hand slid across his shoulders, and Walter reached to take the phone from his hands. After a moment, he heard both men swear.

Another moment and the phone buzzed again. Cam stood and read over Walter’s shoulder.

Ready to go home now? No? Maybe I should play somewhere else then.

The phone buzzed again, and they were looking at a picture. The small photo was dark and it was unclear what they were looking at until Walter reached and enlarged the image. It was of a face. Most of it covered with a plastic oxygen mask, eyes closed in sleep. Charles Evans. Harold had to have been standing over the older man as he took it.

Cam sobbed. Harold was in the Evanses’ house. And then he ran.

THE EVANS
house was dark and quiet when Cam pulled up in front. He didn’t honk the horn or make any noise. If Harold hadn’t woken them up, then it would be best if they slept on. He had the unpleasant image of Charles waking to find Harold looming over him and having a heart attack from the shock.