Connecting Strangers (Discovering Emily) (19 page)

Dammit, Adam. Why are you making this so difficult? I glance over at the deputy who is now leaning against the wall closest to the door. He doesn’t appear to be too steady on his feet. “Sheriff Madison, I do believe the deputy needs your help.” Each word comes out on a bite.

Adam does lift his head then, and with a curse, he gets to his feet and kicks a spare chair toward the deputy. “Sit down before you fall down, Rivers.” Once the deputy sits, Adam returns to his desk. “What’s going on here? Why do you have a problem with me calling the sheriff?”

Rivers leans forward, his head in his hands. “Like I said, Sheriff Madison, I was just deputized to bring Miss Jacobs back. This isn’t my usual type of assignment. Normally, I’m stuck in town dealing with little old ladies who think they’ve heard a burglar. My orders were to drive here, pick the prisoner up, and take her straight to the station. All my life I’ve wanted to get on the police force, and when Sheriff Abernathy asked me to do this, I jumped at the chance. But if I screw this up, I’m going to blow my chance of ever getting to wear this uniform for real.”

From the set of Adam’s jaw, he’s not invested in Rivers’ burning desire to join the police force. “Let me give you some friendly advice. If you really want to be a cop, get the hell out of Broomtown first.” He waves a hand toward the door. “Go get some fresh air while I finish up here.”

The deputy is more than happy to comply. When the door slams shut behind him, Adam places a brief, terse call to the Broomtown Police Department. He leaves a message for the sheriff and whirls the chair around to look at me. “I don’t like this, Emily.”

“I don’t like it, either, but the law is the law. I have to go. Now stop making this more difficult than it has to be.” I’m both touched and annoyed that Adam is so worried. “There’s nothing you can do, and anything you try will only stall what we both know has to happen.”

His breath explodes from his chest, and he scrubs his face with his hands. “This is one of those times I wish I didn’t have this job.”

“If you didn’t, I wouldn’t have anyone to help me.”

Back on his feet, he comes over to me. “I think I could help you a hell of a lot more if I worked outside the law.”

“No, you couldn’t.” I reach up and stroke his cheek between the bars. “Who you are is what makes you a good cop. You can’t walk away from what’s right. I knew that from the moment we met. There was something in your eyes telling me you knew I was in trouble, and you were going to help me whether I wanted you to or not.”

His smile is crooked. “You saw all that in the dark, did you?”

“And in the diner when you followed me.”

“What makes you so sure I followed you?” He takes my fingers and brings them to his lips, and the warmth of his mouth on my skin cocoons me. I could stay right here forever as long as he keeps touching me.

“I don’t need a badge to recognize when I’m being tracked, Sheriff.” I’m smiling in spite of my circumstances. Facing a judge in Broomtown just didn’t seem so overwhelming with Adam nearby.

“Well, if I did, it was only to keep an eye on you.”

“And you’ve done a good job doing that while I’ve been here.”

“It’s not over yet.” Footsteps thump against the wooden steps outside, and Adam releases my hand as the doorknob turns.

Deputy Rivers stomps his way inside, muttering about the icy air. “Did you reach Sheriff Abernathy?” He blows into his hands to warm them.

“I left a message, but he hasn’t returned my call.”

“You mind me asking why you think I should get out of Broomtown?” Rivers drops down into the chair he vacated earlier.

“Just things I’ve heard.”

“Can’t believe everything you hear.” His gaze slides to me, and he looks me up and down. “Especially when your head’s being turned.”

Though Adam’s jaw clenches, he remains amiable. “You running for Mayor or something?”

Rivers removes his hat, scrapes a hand through hair the color of burnished copper, and replaces the worn covering. “Look, I’d love to continue this conversation with you, Sheriff, but I’m on a schedule here. If I don’t bring Miss Jacobs back on time, there’s a good chance I won’t get paid, and I’m not ashamed to say it’s money I need.”

“And I’ll be happy to accommodate your schedule just as soon as I hear back from your sheriff.”

The light of battle flares in the newly-minted deputy’s eyes when he gets to his feet. All trace of meekness has disappeared as well as the “aw shucks” attitude. “Did you miss the part where I said I might not get paid if I don’t make the schedule?”

Adam shrugs. “I can’t help that. You didn’t come with the proper paperwork, and though Miss Jacobs doesn’t seem to mind, I need to talk to Abernathy before I’m releasing this prisoner.”

A laser couldn’t be stronger than the blast of heat from the deputy’s eyes. “I hate to disillusion you, Sheriff, but I don’t work for you. I take orders from Sheriff Abernathy only.” He seems to have found his balls. Unfortunately, Adam is in the mood to kick them if the man doesn’t close his mouth.

“You’re right. You don’t work for me, but,” Adam comes forward, a subtle reminder he outweighs the deputy by a good fifty plus pounds, “you
are
in my town, and here, I call the shots.” He watches Rivers take another step before continuing in a low, calm tone. “Whatever you’re thinking, you might want to reconsider. You’ve been a deputy, what, an hour, maybe two hours? Probably aren’t real sure about how to take down an opponent. I’ve been in law enforcement over ten years. That experience will put you on your ass in a real hurry.”

“Adam,” I whisper before I can stop myself. The sound of his name brings two sets of eyes toward my cell. Deputy Rivers homes in on my face like a live radar.

“Adam, is it?” He tilts his head to one side. “I didn’t know prisoners here could get so friendly with law enforcement. Seems like you run a whole different kind of police department, or is she just special?” He crams his hands into his pockets and rocks back on his heels like he now has the upper hand, making me wonder if he found a backbone outside the station or if he’d just been hiding the one he has to throw Adam off-guard. “Either way, I guess this might be something Sheriff Abernathy will want to know. Hell, it might even be news your town’s mayor will be interested in.”

The words are out, and I’m locked behind steel bars, preventing me from stepping between Adam and the deputy. And it doesn’t take a genius to see there’s going to be a problem.

“The mayor doesn’t control my every move. He’s pretty good about letting me do my job since he knows how well I do it.” Adam walks slowly toward Rivers, his eyes glued to the man’s face with the precision of a heat-seeking missile. “Regardless of that, you’re going to want to let this drop.”

The deputy removes his hat again and dusts it against his leg while I’m silently begging him to shut up and walk away. “Can’t say that I blame you for wanting to protect such a fine piece of real estate. She’s enough to make any man consider crossing the line.”

One quick nod is all the warning Adam gives before he backs the man into the wall next to the door, his arm at Rivers’ throat. “You’re about two seconds away from needing medical transport back to Broomtown. So unless you got damned good health insurance and are willing to take a risk that I might not break a few bones, get your ass outside and keep it there.”

Rivers tries to push away, but Adam’s not letting up. I want to call out to him, but I already saw how much trouble that caused. The key he left by the cell is still on the table, and I question whether or not to intervene. If the new deputy isn’t smart enough to leave on his own two feet, he’s going to be carried by a stretcher. From the set of Adam’s shoulders, he’s ready to do serious bodily damage. And it won’t take much to inflict that on the man’s scrawny frame. What concerns me is that Rivers looks like he might be a slow learner.

“Deputy Rivers,” I finally call out, “please listen to what he’s telling you. Whatever money Sheriff Abernathy is promising you isn’t worth what will happen if you don’t.”

He spits out a vile word directed at me in response, and Adam smashes his fist into the man’s face. Rivers howls and clutches his nose. “You son-of-a-bitch!” He swings and misses.

Adam delivers a gut punch that doubles the man over. I think the deputy is out of the fight, but he comes up with a weak right hook that barely turns Adam’s head. He digs his feet into the floor and wraps his arms around Adam’s waist, attempting to take him down. He obviously failed physics. Not only is Adam stronger, but he’s taller and sturdier. And he’s not going down.

Rivers’ feet scoot on the floor in a desperate attempt for traction. Finally tired of the pseudo-fight, Adam whips the office door open wide, lifts the deputy by the collar of his shirt, and slings him out onto the front steps. “If I don’t see taillights in one minute or less, you’re really going to get your ass kicked.” He slams the door, and we can hear the deputy breathing heavily on the other side.

“Adam, I have to go with him.” Now that we’re alone, I unlock the cell.

“No way you’re leaving here with that ass. He could take his temper out on you.”

I manage not to roll my eyes. “And I could probably take him if he tried. Look.” At his side, I place my hand on his shoulder. “This is only putting off the inevitable. He was out of line, but I don’t think he’s a bad guy. He felt threatened, and who wouldn’t with you glaring at them?”

“I wasn’t glaring.” Adam’s quick to defend himself. “I just don’t feel right about this, Emily, and my instincts have never steered me wrong.”

“Then follow me to Broomtown. There won’t be a whole lot he can do with you on his ass.”

The phone rings on Adam’s desk, and he answers it with more of a bark than a hello.

“Sheriff Abernathy, I appreciate you returning my call.” He clamps a handle on his anger and manages a pleasant tone. But it doesn’t do much good. The sheriff’s roar is loud enough for me to hear. He’s demanding answers.

Why isn’t the prisoner inbound? Why is his deputy calling him to complain about a lack of cooperation between law enforcement? And who the hell does Adam think he is interfering in the transfer of a prisoner?

I expect a long argument, but Adam doesn’t waste time. “Miss Jacobs will be leaving here shortly, but since I don’t trust that half-assed deputy you hired, my deputy and I will be following closely behind to make sure nothing happens to her.”

Abernathy’s screech is loud enough to threaten the windows in Adam’s office. “Are you accusing my office of misconduct, Sheriff? Because I take those accusations very seriously, and I—”

“Personally, I don’t give a shit how you take what I just said. My focus is on keeping Miss Jacobs safe. And the next time you have a suspect that needs to be transported, you might want to think about using a
real
law enforcement officer. Pseudo-deputies have limitations, one of which is carrying a weapon. How is he supposed to protect the prisoner if they’re accosted? Not smart, Sheriff.” Abernathy is shouting threats when Adam ends the conversation.

“Nice guy,” he mutters.

“You should meet him in person.”

“Looking forward to it.”

“That’s a bad idea. You said you were going to follow me, not get in Sheriff Abernathy’s face. It’ll be his territory then, and believe me when I tell you he has no compunction about faking charges.”

When he doesn’t turn to look at me, I come around, forcing him to look at me. “You know what I think is a better idea? We just focus on finding evidence against Mark instead of confronting the entire front line of Broomtown.”

Adam starts pacing. “I’m not expecting to find much, if any, evidence. From what you’ve told me, Mark’s daddy erases every step he takes. If your ex was stupid enough to do something illegal instead of hiring out the hit, you can bet your ass his father worked overtime to cover up the shit his son stepped in.”

“You’re not even going to look, are you?”

“I called the state police and got a hold of the accident report last night. There’s no mention of another vehicle, only that your father lost control of his car.”

I turn and grip the cell bars so tightly my knuckles ache. “But my father told them what happened. He was alive at the scene and gave his statement.” Resting my head against cold steel, I close my eyes. “The cops didn’t put it into the report.”

“And since the car was totaled, it was taken to a junkyard and crushed four days later.”

No trace of evidence. No way to prove Mark’s guilt. Why am I surprised? “Well, I’ve never doubted Ike Metzger’s ability to be thorough.” I straighten myself and my blouse and swipe my fingers underneath my eyes. “I’d better go. There’s no sense in poking the bear any more than it’s already been poked.”

When I turn, Adam is right behind me. Waiting. His chest rises and falls with a deep breath. “I’ll be right there with you, Emily.”

I should ask him to stay instead of going to Broomtown. The only thing awaiting him there is trouble, but he’ll come anyway. He doesn’t want me to go through this alone. Neither do I. But I don’t want him suffering because of me. Instead of saying anything, I turn and wrap my arms around his waist. “Promise me you’ll be careful when you get there.”

“I’m always careful.” He kisses my forehead. “But this isn’t about me.”

“Abernathy could make it about you.” The thought sends my senses spinning. Adam’s life was easier before me. He’ll never admit it, but I complicate things. I wish I could convince him to remain here, to let me go through this alone. But the words won’t come. And as I look into Adam’s eyes, I know why. I am in love with him. A few days was all I needed to lose my heart to this man, but I can’t tell him now. Not on the cusp of trouble.

An idling car engine breaks the connection of our gazes, and I look toward the window as a door slams. Laughter follows tromping footsteps before Gary opens the door and escorts Francine inside the station.

Her face is flushed, and she’s smoothing her hair into place. I look from her to Gary then smile. Maybe she took some of her own advice.

“So I see the cop outside looking like someone just pissed in his cornflakes. What’s the plan?” Francine’s voice is a little high-pitched.