Complicated Matters (11 page)

   “You don’t know a damn thing.”

   “Don’t I? I could feel the love in your touch when you thought I was she.”

   He got up and looked out the window. “Go back to your room, girl.” 

   Farrah removed the picture from its silver picture frame. He and Lianna were standing on a powder white beach. Greenish-blue water lapped at their bare feet, and seemed to touch the azure sky at the horizon. They looked so happy; she in her white dress, and he in his Hawaiian shirt and white jeans. “You two had so much together.” She forced him to look at the picture.

   A single tear fell from his dark eyes onto Lianna’s beautiful face. “And now I have nothing.”

   Farrah wiped the tear with an old napkin. “Yeah, living is the hard part.” She dried his eyes and cheeks. “You said we were friends. Friends help each other.”

   “And just how are you going to help me?” His voice was harsh and unmerciful.

   “I can listen to your insults as the alcohol leaves your body. I can hold your hand if you need me to. If you’ve been doing this for long we’re in for a hard night.” She straightened his covers for him to lie down. “And I can watch over you, while you sleep.”

   He sat down on his bed. “And how are you gonna fight me off when the dreams come back?” 

   “I won’t have to.” She smiled and sat the chair closer to his bed. “You won’t let it get that far again.” 

   He lay back down. “You sure have a lot of faith in one drunken cop.” 

   “I have a lot of faith in my friend.”

   All night long she watched him wrestle his demons. Sometimes he screamed for Raf, but mostly he called for Lianna.

   Farrah wiped his face and body with cold washcloths and turned up the air conditioning. She realized the most she could do was cool him off. The demons were his to fight alone.

   He seemed to be getting better after sunrise. He thrashed about less and slept more peacefully. 

   She went into the kitchen and made toast and coffee, then brought the food to his room. “How are you feeling?” 

   “Better.” He sat up. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

   “I was hungry and needed some coffee.” She set the tray down on the nightstand. “Do you want some?”

   He reached for one of the coffee cups with a trembling hand.

   She helped him steady the cup. “I didn’t know how you took it.” 

   “Usually with a shot of whiskey.” He smiled. “But somebody decided to use my bottle for carpet cleaner last night.”

   “Yeah, about that.” Farrah sipped from her own cup.

   “Don’t worry about it.” He returned his coffee cup to the tray. “Is some of that toast for me?” 

   “Yeah.” She got up to leave. “I’ll give you some privacy.” 

   “Please don’t go.” His face turned red.  “I mean, we can finish our breakfast together. It’s been so long since I’ve talked with anyone this early in the morning.”

   She nibbled on a piece of dry toast. “I assumed the only time you woke up alone was when you chose to.” 

   “You give me way too much credit. How did you know how to handle the situation last night?” He swung his legs off the bed and put his feet flat on the floor. His boxer briefs pulled tight against his muscular thighs.

   She gulped her coffee trying not to look. “I have an uncle who likes to show up to get a little help in that particular area.” She finished her coffee. “Do you think I’ll be able to go home today?”

   “What’s wrong? Are you getting tired of my company already?”

   His smile gave her an uneasy feeling. 

   “Of course not. I just get the feeling that you would rather find some more pleasant company. I overheard you ask Mr. Winthrop about where to look for a good time.” 

   “I thought we were having a pretty good time last night. I even enjoyed our little exchange of insults.”

   Feelings emerged inside her she didn’t think she had any right to feel. She picked up the tray and started for the door. “It’s getting late.”

   “Farrah?” 

   She flinched when he grabbed her wrist. 

   He let her go. “Are we okay?”

   “Yeah.” She left the room.

   *

   “He isn’t yours,” she told herself as she thought about the way he held her during his dream. “That was all for his wife.” She dressed in her loosest shirt and a pair of old faded jeans. She tied her hair into a work braid and donned a pair of dirty sneakers.

   A loud crash came from Taylor’s room.

   “Heath.” She raced to him.

   He stood next to his bed facing a wet spot on the wall. A smile covered his face making him more handsome than normal.

   The room reeked of the stench of whiskey.

   “I had one last battle.”

    She knew he was going to be all right. She packed her things and carried them outside.

   The sky seemed a little bluer as she waited for Taylor next to his patrol car with her bags on the ground at her feet. Nothing was going to be the same as it was before.  She was never going to be the same again.

   Chapter 13

   The sun glistened on her golden-blonde hair.  It was the color of hay.  “Is this your way of telling me to stand down?”

   “An AC-DC t-shirt, and old sneakers?”  She flashed him a weak smile.  “Sheriff Taylor, why aren’t you in uniform?” 

   “I have the day off, and thought I might be able to give you a hand.” He grabbed her gear and put it in the trunk of his Camarro.

   She got in the passenger’s side of his car. “You don’t know the first thing about farm work.” 

   “You could teach me.” He looked around and noticed he had forgotten his computer and jacket. “I better lock the patrol car.” He tossed everything in his gym bag and put it in the trunk of his Camarro.

   She turned toward the window. “I imagine there’s very little I could teach you.” 

   Things between them had to be settled. If she wasn’t going to say something, he’d do it. “Farrah, about last night.”

   “I realize you weren’t doing that for me.” She turned her back to him. “Could we just drop it?” 

   “You can cover up everything about yourself, but that doesn’t change who you are.”

   She turned back toward him. Anger flashed in her blue eyes. “Don’t pretend to know who I am.”

  “I know you showed me how strong you were last night.” He touched his hand to the side of her face. “Then you demonstrated how compassionate you could be. That says a lot.”

   She lowered his hand.

   “And just in case you think you’re so great at hiding things, I also know you don’t want to stay stuck in this town.”

   “That’s one option I don’t have.” She rubbed her eyes with her knuckles. “Mom and dad are counting on me to do the right thing.”

   The previous night he thought he was kissing Lianna. One taste of Farrah’s lips told him they were two entirely different women. In his heart he still loved his wife. His body wouldn’t let him forget how good Farrah felt. “You don’t even talk like the locals. How can you want to be here?”

   “Hello?” She snapped her fingers in front of his face. “I don’t have a choice. Alex and Jess deserve better than foster care.”

   “Surely you have other relatives.”

   “We were never close to any of them. I’m all my brothers have.”

   The car felt too small. The ride felt too long. He had to get out of there and wondered if Farrah felt the same way.

   They arrived at the farm and Farrah grabbed her stuff and tossed it on the front porch. Without a word to anyone, she raced to the tractor.

   “You two not getting along?” Winthrop asked Taylor.

   “Wrap it up, Deputy. I want a detailed report this afternoon.”

   The old deputy saluted Taylor. “Sir, yes sir.” 

   Chapter 14

   With all the key players under his personal surveillance, Taylor decided to visit the swamp. He pulled off to the side of the road and retrieved his gym bag from his trunk. His entire life, he had been fascinated with gadgets. A long time ago, he invested in a GPS blocker. If anyone needed him they were going to have to take his word for his whereabouts.

   The swamp made him uneasy. Unusual sounds surrounded him. 

   Taylor knew the difference between an alligator’s call and a bullfrog’s croak. The latter was somewhat amusing, while the former sent blood-curdling chills down his spine.

   It wasn’t hard to understand why someone would come out here to commit murder. It was quiet and secluded. There were enough natural predators to destroy most, if not all, of the evidence. And if anyone started looking where they shouldn’t it would be easy enough to arrange an
accident
for them.

   Taylor headed back to the farm to make sure Farrah was okay. Surely, Jones and Edwards wouldn’t be so stupid as to harm her. He caught up with her, as she was changing farm implements. “I came to tell you I’ll be back this afternoon.”

   “Don’t bother. Mr. Winthrop and his crew bugged out of here just after you did. I don’t know what you said to him, but thanks.”

   “Are you and me okay?” Hanging out with Farrah was the closest he’d come to a real relationship since his wife died. He didn’t want to lose that friendship.

   “We’re good.”  She nodded. “I suppose I was just missing Ted last night. I sat up and studied the charts after you went to bed and even learned a few cords.”

   Taylor knew she was lying. Ted didn’t have a damn thing to do with it. But that wasn’t his main concern. He wanted to see her again. “I’ll be seeing you around then.”

   “Yeah. I guess.” She went back to work.

   Taylor drove to his office feeling like he’d just lost his best friend. The evidence box marked
Morgansville Case File
sat on his desk with the original seal on it. He closed the curtains that surrounded the glass walls of his office and cut the seal on the box.
No wonder, the state’s attorney never had an arrest made.  They got zilch.
A few surveillance photos, a list of names, some paint chips from the so-called accident involving Daniels’s transport, and an inventory of drugs. It all added up to a couple of deputies dealing drugs. That wasn’t what he wanted them put away for.

   He pulled the personnel files of Edwards, Jones, and Winthrop. While he was at it, he decided to check on his three friends. They were talking about a fishing trip that wasn’t successful.
Hold it; they were all working this week
.    

   The paint chips matched a black 2008 Chevy Tahoe. Winthrop drove one of those.

   Taylor checked with his insurance company to see if Winthrop had any work done recently. He brought in his vehicle to a body shop the day after Daniels’ escape with some major front-end damage. 

   He called the insurance company.

   “Baskin’s Home and Auto. How can I help you?”

   “This is Sheriff Taylor of the Morgansville Sheriff’s Department. I’m investigating an accident involving one of my deputies. Deputy Jarrod Winthrop.”

   “Yes, sir.”

   “Do you know the whereabouts of those damaged parts?”

   “The garage is holding them for us pending further investigation.”

   “Can I get those parts?” 

   “Of course, Sheriff. Shall I call Deputy Winthrop and tell him to pick them up?” the insurance lady asked.

   “He’s out on another call and can’t be disturbed. I’ll be right over.” Taylor hung up the phone and took his gym bag with him making sure to lock his door as he left. He sprinkled the doorknob with a light dusting of talcum powder in case someone got curious.

   The garage was nice enough to wrap up the damaged grill and right front fender from Winthrop’s Tahoe and supply some very nice photos. There were flecks of white paint on the damaged parts.

   He took everything back to his office and called the county forensics team. Once they confirmed the paint did belong to the transport van, Taylor called Commander Phillips.

   “Phillips here.”

   “Have you identified the voices on the tape yet, sir?”

   “Yes.”

   “They wouldn’t happen to be deputies Jerrod Winthrop, Neal Edwards, and Patrick Jones, would they, sir?”

   “How did you know, Taylor?”

   “The paint chips from Daniel’s transport vehicle match the paint from a 2008 black Chevy Tahoe. Deputy Winthrop drives one of those and brought it in the day after Daniels escaped. I’m faxing you copies of those insurance photos right now. You’ll notice there is some white paint on the grill and right fender of his Tahoe. The county’s forensics team matches the paint from the Tahoe to the paint on the transport vehicle. I am also asking for permission to bring my new friends in for a little sit-down.”

   “Permission granted.”

   “Would you like to join us, sir?”