The Lawman Returns (6 page)

Familiar guilt hit Clay, and he took a deep breath. He had to do the right thing. “I’m talking about a lead on Steven’s murder.”

Lance’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of a lead?”

Clay ignored the throbbing across the right side of his head and focused on Lance. He sensed he had Sabrina’s full attention, too. “I mean, Steven went to see a family the day before he died. He was checking to see if the grandson was into drugs. Turns out the pipe belonged to the kid’s mother. At least that’s his story.”

“Which family?”

“The Zellis family.” Recognition flashed across Lance’s face. Clay shifted the ice pack. “You know them?”

“Yeah. I busted their mom for meth. The kids went into the system before being placed with the grandparents.” He looked at Sabrina. “Didn’t the mom just get them back?”

“Yes. Only now she’s taken off with her current boyfriend, leaving her drug paraphernalia—and children—behind.”

Clay wondered if Lance would be the best one for the job. “I want you to check out this new lead.”

Lance studied him. “All right.”

Clay cocked a brow. “All right?”

“I’ll check it out, but what’s the catch?”

His friend had always been sharp. “I want to go with you.”

Lance shook his head. “You can’t work on this case.”

“I’ll sit in the car.”

“No.”

“I have to.” Clay slammed a fist on his thigh and flinched as the action made his head vibrate.

“No. You don’t.” Lance spread his hands. “I mean, what’s the point?”

If it didn’t hurt so bad, Clay would have clenched his jaw. Instead he blew out a sigh. “The point is, I’ll be close by. I need to do this for Steven.”

Lance rubbed his chin. “For Steven or for yourself?”

Anger rose up in Clay, but he clamped it down. He supposed it was a legitimate question. “Maybe for both of us. I wasn’t there for him when he was alive. Don’t try to stop me from doing what I’ve got to do now that he’s dead.”

“My offer still stands,” Sabrina said. “I’ll go with you. The grandparents like me. The mom doesn’t, but sounds like she’s not around anyway.”

Lance sighed and looked at Clay. Clay stared back, his face implacable. Lance threw his hands up. “All right, all right. I’ll do it.” He narrowed his eyes at Clay. “But you have to promise to stay in the car.”

“I promise. I just... I need to be there.”

Lance’s phone buzzed, and he pulled it from his pocket. When he glanced at the number, he rolled his eyes.

“Who is it?” Clay asked. He shifted with a grunt and grabbed his head.

“Be still before you do more damage,” Granny May ordered.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Lance slipped his phone back into his pocket. “It’s Krissy. She’s been calling me all night,” he muttered. “Bugging me to death about going to some concert in Nashville next weekend and I’m supposed to be working.”

“Krissy?” Sabrina asked.

“My wife. I’ll call her back in a few minutes.”

“Go with her,” Clay said. “I’ll take your shift.”

Lance blinked. “You will?”

“Sure. I figure I owe you.” He shrugged, then winced. “But I’d do it anyway to help a man keep his wife happy.”

Lance grunted. “It’s taking a lot to keep her happy these days.”

* * *

The doorbell cut the sudden awkward silence, and Granny May hustled to answer it. Sabrina guessed it was Daniel Billings, one of the doctors who looked up to her grandmother and had adopted her as his own. She heard his deep voice come from the foyer and then Granny May led him into the room. Tall enough to be a pro basketball player, he was in his early thirties with black hair and blue eyes.

He spotted Clay on the couch. “What’d you run into?”

“It’s more like what ran into me.”

“A metal trash-can lid got him,” Sabrina offered.

Daniel raised his eyebrows. “People still use those?”

“Apparently.”

He nodded to Sabrina. “Good to see you.”

Sabrina offered him a friendly smile. “You, too, Daniel. Thanks for coming.” His gaze lingered, and she cleared her throat. “Does he have a concussion?”

Daniel moved to the couch. “Why don’t y’all give the guy a little privacy instead of hovering like a bunch of mother hens?”

Clay gave what Sabrina thought was supposed to be a smile but looked more like a grimace. Granny May ushered everyone out.

Sabrina stood in the kitchen with Lance. “What time do you want to go see the Zellises?”

“Why don’t you call first thing in the morning and see what time they’ll be home?”

She nodded. “If we go around nine o’clock in the morning, we should be fine. That’s usually when they’re home. I don’t know why I couldn’t reach them tonight.”

“Sounds good.”

“Has your life been too boring lately, my dear?” Granny May asked.

Sabrina looked back to find her grandmother coming into the kitchen. She flushed. “No, ma’am, I can’t say it’s been boring.”

“What’s going on, darling?”

Sabrina sighed. “I’ll fill you in when everything calms down.”

Daniel walked up behind her grandmother. She turned. “How’s the patient?”

“Stubborn,” he grunted. “But he’ll be all right if he takes it easy. He must have a pretty hard head, because I don’t see any signs of a concussion right now. He needs to be watched during the night. If he starts showing any signs of a concussion, I’d want to see him right away.”

“I’ll be all right. I’ve got to get home. Thanks for coming out like this. I appreciate it.” Clay stood in the doorway, eyes squinted against the light.

Daniel shook his head. He looked at Granny May. “I’ve told him he’s not to drive, so if he wants to go home, someone needs to take him. Or pick him up.”

“I’ll call Julianna and Ross,” her grandmother said. Sabrina’s brows rose. Granny May was on a first-name basis with Clay’s parents?

“No,” Clay said. “I don’t want to worry my parents. They have enough going on right now. I’ll be fine.”

Enough going on? With the kids or dealing with his bitter uncle? She frowned. Snarkiness wasn’t usually her nature.

“Then stay here,” Granny May said. “No reason you can’t use one of the empty guest rooms. I’ve got a T-shirt and shorts left from my husband you can use to sleep in.”

“If you try to drive, I’ll call your father,” Daniel said, his tone mild, eyes serious.

Clay scowled, then dropped his head with a resigned sigh. Then he winced and lifted a hand to the bruise on his cheek. “All right.” He looked at Granny May. “I guess you’ve got another guest for the night.”

Granny May smiled. “Then come on. I’ll show you your room and get you settled. It’s just the Flemmings on the third floor and me and Sabrina. We’ve got plenty of room tonight.”

Clay caught Sabrina’s eye and she lifted her hands in a “What can you do?” gesture. He gave a light snort and followed her grandmother down the hall to one of the back bedrooms. Private and quiet with a king bed and an intercom system. She heard Granny May say, “And I’ll check on you at least once to make sure you wake up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sabrina showed the others out, closed the door and leaned against it.
Lord, I’ve got a feeling something’s going on and it’s going to get worse before it gets better. Please, please, keep us safe and let them figure out who killed Steven before anything else happens.

SIX

C
lay rolled over and looked at the clock. Tuesday morning at three o’clock. He hoped all was well. Granny May had checked on him about an hour ago, and now he couldn’t go back to sleep. He supposed that meant he didn’t have a concussion. And even though he still had a headache, the worst of the pain had subsided.

He slid out of bed and much to his relief found he wasn’t dizzy, just a little light-headed. And very thirsty. Probably from the pain medication.

On silent feet, he made his way to the kitchen. Granny May had been sure to point out the fact that she kept the refrigerator stocked for her guests and he was to help himself. He decided to do just that.

Two steps from the entry to the kitchen he stopped and sniffed.

Smoke?

Another guest who was awake and had decided to light up a cigarette? Surely not.

A floorboard creaked behind him and he turned. “Someone there?”

“Clay?” Sabrina’s breathy whisper reached him from the shadows, and the tension that had threaded his shoulders eased a bit.

“What are you doing up?”

“I thought I smelled smoke.”

“Same here.”

They entered the kitchen. Sabrina flipped on the light and Clay squinted his eyes as a new shaft of pain split through his skull. He gasped and turned back toward the darkened hallway. As his eyes adjusted, he gazed into the den. Flames crawled up one of the long window curtains.

“Sabrina, quick, get a fire extinguisher.”

She turned. “Oh, no!” She rushed to the kitchen pantry and threw open the door. She grabbed the large red canister and shoved it at him. “Here!”

He pulled the pin and bolted into the den, aimed the hose at the flame and squeezed the handle.

White foam spewed from the nozzle, and Clay held it until the fire was out. He set the extinguisher down and looked at Sabrina. “How did that happen?”

Light filtered in from the kitchen and her face worried him. Fear etched itself in deep lines near her eyes and mouth. “I don’t know.”

“We’re blessed we were awake.” He knelt in front of the mess, charred curtain, burnt flooring and foam.

He shot her a warm look. “Can you hand me the poker from the fireplace?”

Sabrina did. “What is it?”

He used the steel poker to jab at something and then lifted it. A small metal can sat on the pointed end. “This.”

“I don’t understand.” She stared at the mess, coughed on the smoke, then walked over to the window—and pushed it up without a sound. “Or maybe I do.” Cold air rushed in, and she shivered. She shut the window just as easily and latched it. “It wasn’t locked.” She bit her lip and shook her head. “Which is very odd. This may be a small town, but Granny May still takes precautions and always keeps her doors and windows locked at night.”

He didn’t touch the window but looked at it. “I’m guessing someone lifted it, placed an accelerant and some cloth in the can, lit it and put it under the curtain.”

She swallowed. “Then shut the window.”

“Prints would be on the outside. I have a kit in my car.” He froze. “My car.”

“It’s all right. Lance took care of it. It’s parked in front of the diner so no one asks any questions about why you were here last night. Tonight.” She rubbed her eyes. “Whichever night.”

“We’re perfectly well chaperoned by your grandmother and whoever else is staying here.”

She gave him a small smile. A very sad smile. “I know. But it was just better that way.”

He wondered if her reaction had anything to do with her mother’s reputation. Of course it did.

“Everything all right in here?” A man in his early fifties, followed by a woman about the same age, entered the den and gasped. “What happened?”

Granny May stepped around them and gaped. “Oh, no! What happened?”

“Just a little fire,” Clay said. “But it’s all taken care of now. Granny May, you’ll have to call your insurance company first thing.”

“How did it start?” She coughed on the residual smoke that lingered and waved a hand in front of her face.

Clay exchanged a glance with Sabrina. She walked over to her grandmother and placed a hand on her arm. “Why don’t we deal with this in the morning?” She glanced at the mantel clock. “Which is only a couple of hours away.” In a smooth move, she ushered her grandmother and the other couple back to the other part of the house.

Clay pulled his phone from his pocket and woke the sheriff.

* * *

Sabrina sat on the edge of her bed until five-thirty, then got up to start preparing breakfast for the guests. In total, it was just the couple—Mr. and Mrs. Flemming, who were in town visiting their children and grandchildren—Granny May, Clay and herself.

Breakfast didn’t need to be ready until seven-thirty, but her mind raced, making sleep impossible. As she put together the ingredients for the biscuits, she thought about last night. Who would want to set fire to her grandmother’s home? Had she made someone mad? Well, her grandmother hadn’t, but Sabrina probably had. She snorted. In her line of work, she made people mad all the time. Mostly parents who had their children removed from their home.

Had one of them decided to seek revenge?

She thought about Stan Prescott. Had he come after her as a result of what had happened last night?

She wiped her hands on the well-used apron and placed the biscuits under a heat lamp to help them rise faster.

“Need some help?”

She yelped and spun to see Clay in the doorway. Sabrina placed a hand over her racing heart. “You scared me to death.”

He grinned. “Sorry.”

“How’s your head this morning?”

“Pounding pretty hard, but nothing I can’t live with.”

Sabrina reached into the cabinet above her and pulled down a bottle of ibuprofen. She tossed it to him and then filled a glass with orange juice.

When she handed him the drink, his fingers closed over hers. A sweet warmth traveled up her arm and into her cheeks. His eyes narrowed, and she saw him swallow before taking the glass from her hand and downing three of the little orange pills.

Whoa. Okay. So the attraction was definitely mutual. In an effort to catch her breath and steady her racing pulse, she turned to the refrigerator to remove the slab of ham. She grabbed the electric knife from the drawer near the sink, plugged it in and set it on the counter. “Did you wind up going back to sleep after the sheriff came to dust for fingerprints?”

“No. You?”

“No. Not really.”

Silence descended. He moved next to her, unwrapped the ham and placed it on the cutting board.

“You don’t have to do that,” she protested.

He smiled. “I don’t mind. Feels domestic.”

She gave a spurt of laughter but couldn’t help it that her mind went to all sorts of crazy thoughts at that comment. “Right. Domestic.” She paused and watched him from the corner of her eye while she pulled down juice and milk glasses. “Do you want to be...er...domesticated?”

Clay glanced up at her and cocked his head. A slow smile curved his lips. “If I met the right person, sure.”

Their gazes held a moment longer before Sabrina decided she’d better get out of the kitchen before she got burned.

“Don’t go.”

She turned back. “Go?” She cleared her throat and lifted a brow, hoping she looked innocent. “I’m just going to get the napkins from the pantry.”

He lifted his brow to match hers. “Oh. Okay. But the pantry is over there.”

“I know that,” she snapped, embarrassed. But she couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at her lips.

He laughed and turned back to the ham. A few more moments passed in silence. He finished slicing the ham, and she covered it with plastic wrap and placed it back in the refrigerator.

“Who will you have do the repairs in the den?”

“I don’t know. Do you know someone who’s trustworthy?”

“No, but I can ask around. My dad would know someone.”

“Okay.”

“What’s your story, Sabrina?”

She stopped. “What do you mean?” He simply looked at her.

She sighed and looked away, trying to decide if she wanted to answer the question.

What else needed doing? The eggs for the omelets. She walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a dozen eggs. She knew she was procrastinating. Clay did, too. He let her take her time. She finally met his eyes. “Well, you know my mother’s reputation.”

“Yes.”

“It’s shaped my whole life.”

“How?”

She shrugged. “I used to think if I was perfect, somehow my mom would find out and come back for me.”

“How did that work out for you?”

“It didn’t, of course.”

“So you’ve lived here all your life?”

“No. I lived in Nashville for several years. I just came back to Wrangler’s Corner a year ago.”

“Nashville!”

“That shocks you?”

“I’ve lived in Nashville for the past ten years.”

“I know.” She gave a sad smile. “Steven told me. It’s a big city. I got my degree in social work there.”

“So why come home?”

The memories stung, but not as bad as they used to. And in a different way. She no longer missed Brian; she just couldn’t believe she’d been so stupid. “Because my boyfriend was aspiring to be a country-music singer and decided we should live together instead of getting married. Apparently marriage would cramp his style.”

He cringed. “Ouch.”

“I finally saw him for who he was and realized I didn’t like him very much. I broke up with him and moved home to help my grandmother.”

He covered her hand with his. “I’m glad you did.”

She swallowed hard. “Yeah. Me, too.”

He squeezed her fingers. Heat crept into her cheeks. He pulled her toward him, eyes on hers. Was he going to kiss her?

Flustered, she cleared her throat and pulled away. “I, uh, better get back to, uh, breakfast.”

He gave a slow smile. “I’ll help.”

Together they finished getting breakfast ready. When her grandmother came in at six-fifteen and realized the only thing she had to do was finish cooking, she hugged them both.

Sabrina patted her on the back. “I’m going to get ready for the day.”

“Better work a nap in somewhere.”

“I wish. Don’t forget to call the insurance company,” Sabrina reminded her.

“As if.” She waved. “Go on—I know you two have things you have to do today.”

Sabrina kissed her cheek and looked at Clay. “I’ll give the Zellises a call and let them know we’re coming.”

“I’m going to run home and get ready. I’ll be back.”

Sabrina watched him go and wondered at the feelings that seemed to be developing between them.

And wondered at the wisdom of getting involved with the man whose uncle couldn’t stand her very existence.

Sadness engulfed her. Falling for Clay would probably be one of the dumbest things she could do.

She just hoped her heart got the message.

* * *

Clay assured everyone he felt much better and was just fine to drive. He’d driven home, changed clothes and made it back to the B and B in less than forty minutes. “I didn’t wreck or run over anyone. I’m fine to drive.”

Lance solved the argument. “Not this time. Get in. We only need to take one car anyway. I’ll bring you back here when we’re done.”

Clay conceded with a groan. He motioned for Sabrina to take the front passenger seat, then climbed in behind her. Lance started the car and backed out of the parking spot. “Now, you let me take care of this.” He glanced in the rearview mirror and caught Clay’s eyes.

Clay nodded. “I promise.”

Fifteen minutes later, Lance pulled into the lower-income neighborhood. He maneuvered through the streets until he came to a small ranch-style house with more weeds than grass. A motorcycle and a twenty-year-old Honda sat under the metal carport at the end of the drive.

Lance parked on the curb.

The front door opened. A woman Clay knew to be in her early fifties but who looked ten years older stepped out onto the porch. Clay rolled his window down as Lance and Sabrina exited the car.

The woman’s shoulders softened slightly when she spotted Sabrina. “Is my boy in trouble again? Where are the little ones? He was supposed to be watching out for them.” She wrung her hands.

Sabrina paused. “They’re in a home right now being cared for. As for Jordan, no, ma’am, at least not the kind of trouble you’re thinking. If he’s in trouble, I don’t think it’s of his making. Is he here?”

Mrs. Zellis crossed her arms. “No, he ain’t.”

Sabrina frowned. “He called me yesterday and said he was scared.” She debated whether to mention the fact that someone had taken a shot at her yesterday. She decided not to for the moment.

“You know he’s not really very happy staying here.” She shrugged. “He’s seventeen years old. Be eighteen next week. I can only do what I can do.”

Clay figured the woman was right. If a seventeen-year-old boy didn’t want to stay with his grandmother and he had a way to get his hands on some cash and a place to sleep at night, then his grandmother was pretty powerless.

“I don’t think Jordan’s not here because he doesn’t want to be. I think he’s afraid and is hiding from someone,” Sabrina said.

“Probably one of those people he hangs out with turned on him. I told him he couldn’t trust them none.”

Sabrina moved closer but stopped at the bottom of the porch steps. “When was the last time you saw him?”

The woman sucked her teeth, then pooched her lips out. She let her gaze drop from Sabrina’s. Clay wanted to jump from the car and shake the information from her. Instead he clenched his fingers into fists and waited.

“Mrs. Zellis?” Sabrina pushed.

She sighed. “Nigh on two or three days, I reckon. His mama left last week, so it’s just been me and the kids.” She paused. “They all right? I saw you tried to call last night. I didn’t worry too much because I figured they were with Jordan, but you’re saying they’re not.”

“They’re fine. They’re in a foster home for now.”

She nodded and tears welled before she blinked them away. “Might be best if they stay there for now.”

Sabrina nodded. “If Jordan comes home, will you have him call me?”

“Sure. But you know how he knows these mountains like the back of his hand. If he doesn’t want to be found, he won’t be. He likes the caves up there.” She gave an absent nod in the direction of the mountains.