Safe from Harm (23 page)

Elle's frown deepened. The voice was soft, hoarse, as if the woman on the other end was whispering. “Yes. Who's this?”

“Janice Monroe.”

Elle's blood turned to ice water in her veins.
Jeb Monroe's wife.
She'd never spoken to Mrs. Monroe, had only seen her in the courtroom during Derrick's trial, her eyes red and swollen, her slight frame curled forward in sorrow and hopelessness. “Mrs. Monroe,” Elle said. “How did you get this number?”

She hesitated a moment before answering, “My husband has the addresses and phone numbers of everyone who works for the county. He's had them for quite some time.”

Elle's mind raced with the implications of what she'd just heard. “How did he get that kind of information?”

“I don't know,” Janice stammered. “I just know he does.”

Elle pressed her lips together in frustration. The woman knew more than she was admitting, but she kept her voice level when she said, “Mrs. Monroe, you shouldn't be calling me. I'm sorry, but—”

“Please don't hang up!” the woman cried. Her voice cracked pitifully when she added, “I…I need your help.”

Elle's grip on her phone tightened. Gabe had thought Monroe's daughter was on the verge of talking. Maybe his wife was eager to talk as well. The poor woman sounded terrified. “Call the police. I'm sure they can assist you.”

“He'll kill me if I go to the police,” Janice told her. “I need you to go to them for me.”

Elle pressed the heel of her palm against her eyes.
Great
. She was half-popped from tequila and Janice Monroe wanted her to call the cops for her. “Mrs. Monroe, could you meet me somewhere in about an hour? Somewhere public, of your choosing. I'll help you if I can, but I'm unable to drive at the moment.”

There was hesitation on the other end of the line before Janice finally said, “I'll try. I have a concussion, I think. He hit me—Jeb did. And…oh my God, my God—my baby girl!” She began to sob. “What he did to my baby girl!”

The fear and anguish in the woman's voice made Elle's blood boil with outrage. Women like Janice Monroe were exactly the kinds of victims Elle assisted through her work at the foundation, the very women she had vowed to protect and help wherever and however she could. The woman was desperate. If anyone needed Elle at the moment, it was Janice Monroe.

“Where's Jeb now?” Elle asked. “Is he there with you?”

The woman sniffed, her voice shaky as she said, “No. He's at the sheriff's department, making a complaint against Deputy Dawson. He took our son Jeremy and daughter Sandra with him.”

Elle nodded to herself. That could take a while. If they moved quickly, she could get a cab to the Monroe farm and get Janice to the sheriff's department before Jeb made it back home. She'd just have to make sure to time it right. She'd made a promise to Gabe about staying safe and avoiding any of the Monroe men after all.

“Mrs. Monroe,” she said, “I'm coming to pick you up. But it's imperative that you be ready to go when I get there.”

As soon as Elle hung up, she called the cab, then placed another call.

“Deputy Abby Morrow.”

Elle was relieved to catch her friend at her desk. “Hey, Abby. It's Elle.”

“Hey, sweetie,” Abby said. “How're you holding up?”

Elle groaned. “Been better. I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”

“You know I will,” Abby responded without hesitation. “What do you need?”

“I need you to give me a call as soon as Jeb Monroe leaves the department to head home.”

“Okay…” Abby replied, drawing out the word in her wariness. “Why?”

“Just want to keep track of his movements,” Elle said, flagging down the cabbie as he pulled into Mulaney's parking lot. “I'll explain it all later.”

“Should I tell Gabe you called?” Abby asked in a rush. “He's in with Mac, but I can tell him when he comes out.”

Elle hesitated as she opened the cab door. If he knew what she was doing, he'd come racing out to the farm, probably just in time to confront Jeb. That's the
last
thing he needed right then. She'd give him a call as soon as she had Janice safely in the cab and they were on their way back to the sheriff's department. He'd definitely want to be there to listen in as Janice gave her statement.

“No,” she finally replied to Abby. “I'll give him a call as soon as I can.”

Elle hung up and glanced at her phone as she got into the cab. Her battery was nearly dead. Her window of opportunity for getting Janice Monroe and her children to safety just got a little smaller.

Damn it!

“Miss? Where to?” the cab driver prompted.

Elle rattled off the address to the Monroe farm. She wasn't surprised at all that she still remembered it. After looking through Derrick's file so many times, searing every fact into her brain for the trial, she doubted she'd ever forget any of it. Even the parts she wished she could.

Gabe sat in the chair in his father's office, gripping the wooden arms so hard in his rage that his knuckles were white. “You've got to be
fucking
kidding me.”

Mac's brows lifted in a look of slight disapproval. “Care to rephrase that?”

Gabe gave his father a defiant look. “You've got to be
fucking
kidding me, sir?”

Mac jabbed his index finger at his son. “I'm not the enemy here, Son.”

Gabe took a moment to collect himself before he managed to grind out, “Judge Murray owes his entire career to your influence, and the one time you go to him for a favor, he tells you to piss off?”

“It's an election year,” Mac muttered, rising from his chair and pacing over to his office window.

Gabe waited for the rest of an explanation for several moments before he realized that was all he was going to get. “This is bullshit,” he spat. “You know this, right? I didn't do any of what Monroe is claiming.”

Mac gave him a terse nod without turning away from the window. “I know that, Gabriel. But it doesn't matter a damn what I believe. My influence only goes so far in this county.”

“You wouldn't have said that twenty years ago,” Gabe shot back.

At this, Mac did turn to give him a questioning look. “What the hell is that supposed to mean, young man?”

Gabe meant that twenty years ago, if someone had tried to pull this kind of shit on one of Mac's deputies, Mac would've been paying the bastard a visit to make it clear he wasn't about to let a move like that go unanswered. There was no way in hell he would've taken no for an answer.

“I'm just wondering who else might be worried about an election year,” Gabe admitted.

Mac's normally stoic face went stormy. “You think I'd let you go down because I was worried about keeping my ass in this chair? You think I'd
ever
put my career over you boys?”

Gabe immediately felt like an ass. Only a few months earlier, he'd been defending the Old Man to Kyle with the same argument, knowing full well what lengths Mac would go to for family after having witnessed his unfaltering devotion to their mother in her illness. He'd sacrificed everything to try to save her life only to fail in the end.

The guilt didn't end there. Mac had been forced to deplete the boys' college funds to cover medical bills. Tom and Kyle had managed on scholarships and student loans. Gabe had gone to school part-time, working his way through. But Joe had joined the National Guard, and during one of his deployments, they'd nearly lost him. Gabe knew their father blamed himself to this day, berating himself for not providing better for his family. He saw it in his dad's eyes every time he caught Mac looking at Joe.

The one time he'd worked up the nerve to ask his dad what was going through his head, he just got a terse, “It'd kill me, losing one of you boys.”

Finally, Gabe heaved a sigh. “Of course not, sir. I'm sorry. I just don't know what the hell I'm gonna do.”

Mac came around to the front of his desk and sat on the corner, looking so much like a twenty-five-year-older version of Tom, Gabe had to suppress a grin.

Mac narrowed his eyes at Gabe for a long moment, then gave a nod as if coming to some decision. “You're gonna man up, Gabriel, and keep your head high. And when we clear you of these bullshit charges, you're gonna bring that son of a bitch down. Is that clear?”

Gabe gave a terse nod that mirrored his father's. “Yes, sir.”

* * *

Jeb Monroe led his daughter by the arm, holding her gently, as if she might break. He didn't miss the way the deputies he passed on the way into the sheriff's department looked away, as if they might be considered guilty by association.

So the story was already out…

Good. It was the first nail in Deputy Dawson's coffin. And, by extension, that of his father. The Dawson family was about to feel the fury of his wrath as demanded by the judgment of the Great Almighty himself.

Jeb had realized the night before that it was time to act, time to make his move on the Dawsons and their whore in the prosecutor's office. And what he had planned would be just the sort of incident that made the papers, galvanized other righteous people like him who prepared for the revolution that was coming. They'd know it was time to act, time to take up arms and declare independence from tyranny.

“I can't do this.”

He halted abruptly, his daughter's cowardice snapping him out of his dreams for the future. He sent a quick glance around and jerked her arm, making her whimper and shrink away from him. “You
can
do this,” he growled. “You
will
do this. Is that clear? You know what's at stake.”

Her chin began to tremble. “But it's wrong.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, his grip on her arm tightening until she cried out. “Is rising up against tyranny ever wrong? Is following the will of God to rid the world of hedonists ever wrong?”

She didn't reply, merely stood there trembling. And well she
should
tremble for fear of the world and how Satan had sunk his claws into the godless. She should be very afraid her own soul was at risk. But soon she'd be delivered of the horrors of this world. She would serve as a martyr for the cause and be forever spoken of with reverence among the righteous. It would be his final gift to her. He would save her from turning her back on the cause before her betrayal was known to any others.

But first she had a vital part to play.

Jeremy stood off to the side of the door, hands in his pockets, his head hanging. Jeb had yet to determine what to do about his son. The boy had betrayed him as well, had called him crazy. But weren't many of the great men of history considered crazy until they were proven right? Jeremy was misguided, led astray by his traitorous mother. But he would soon have him back on the right path.

“Get inside,” Jeb snapped, dragging Sandra forward. “Now both of you remember what I told you. You say exactly what we rehearsed on the ride here.”

When Jeremy nodded, Jeb pulled open the door and strode straight to the front desk. “I'm here to see Sheriff Dawson,” he announced. “You can tell him Jeb Monroe is here with his daughter.”

* * *

Gabe felt something in the air shift and the hair on the back of his neck prickled. His instincts told him Monroe had arrived even before he turned in his seat to see who his father was glaring daggers at.

“Here we go,” Mac ground out. “You can listen in, in the observation room.”

Gabe nodded and waited until one of the deputies ushered Jeb and his children to the conference room, then squared his shoulders and strode out of his father's office, not bothering to meet the curious gazes of any of his colleagues. But just as he was entering the observation room, his phone began to buzz.

His heart leaped up into his throat. Expecting it to be Elle finally calling him, he snatched it from his hip and answered without even checking the screen display. “Hey, I'm sorry—”

“Is it true?”

Shit.

“Jessica,” he said, slipping into one of the other conference rooms instead. “How are you and the kids?”

“Pretty damned pissed, Gabe,” Chris's widow hissed. “Is it true you screwed up the investigation? Is Derrick Monroe getting another trial? And did you assault some woman? I know you've always been a player, but did you
seriously
stoop to something so brutal?”

“Jesus, Jess,” he interjected when she finally paused to take a breath. “You know I didn't! I would never treat anyone that way. It's all bullshit. How did you even find out?”

“Are you serious?” she laughed. “It's all over the news.”

Gabe's head suddenly felt like it was about to explode. He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on something other than the pounding in his head. “Of course Monroe would go to the press. Why am I surprised?”

“And the trial?” she continued. “What about that?”

He heaved a frustrated sigh, wishing he could give her such an emphatic denial on that one. “I don't know. We're fighting it. Dad talked to Judge Murray, but with the climate not being particularly friendly to law enforcement right now, Murray's treading lightly.”

He heard her mutter a curse. “That man can
not
go free, Gabe. He just
can't.
I can't go through that again. The
kids
can't go through that. Teddy's old enough now to understand what's going on. I don't want him to hear all the details of how his father died.”

“You know we did everything by the book in Chris's case,” Gabe assured her. “You
know
we did right by him, Jess. I loved the guy like a brother.”

“Yeah, well, what would you do if it was one of your
real
brothers, Gabe?” she demanded. “If you cared so much about Chris, then you make sure that son of a bitch sitting in prison for his murder doesn't get out.”

She hung up before he had a chance to respond. It was probably just as well. All he could do was make empty promises anyway.

Speaking of empty promises…

He checked the call list on his phone, hoping that maybe he'd missed a call from Elle, but no such luck.

He'd been an ass to storm out of her office like he had earlier. All he'd wanted to do was take her in his arms and hold her, tell her how much he loved her over and over again and hope it still meant something to her.

It was killing him that they'd left things the way they had. He'd almost called her a few times since then but had thought better of it, not wanting to make the situation worse. He checked his watch. Several hours had passed.
Shit
. He probably should've at least
tried
to call sooner… Even if she'd told him to go to hell, she would've at least known he wanted to talk.

He hit her number before he could talk himself out of it and listened to the phone ring until it went to her voice mail. Even the sound of her recorded voice made his heart race.

God, he had it bad…

“Hey, it's me,” he said. “I just… I was just hoping to talk. I'm sorry I stormed out earlier. Just…call me, I guess.”

He returned his phone to his hip, an undercurrent of apprehension creeping beneath his skin. He had the sudden urge to claw at himself to dig out the sensation.

It was ridiculous. Elle was fine. She was probably just busy. Or still pissed. Either one was completely plausible, all things considered.

And yet he couldn't help feeling that something was off. Something just didn't feel right. His instincts were telling him he needed to get his ass moving—but where? Why? Was it just the fact that Monroe was sitting just a couple rooms down, spouting lies so ridiculous they'd already starting spreading like wildfire? Or was there something more?

He gave himself a hard mental shake and tried to tamp down the restlessness plaguing him, then charged toward the observation room to try to catch some of the bullshit Monroe was slinging.

He slipped inside, closed the door softly behind him, and jerked his chin at his brothers who'd gathered there as well.

“Hey, Joe, Kyle,” he said. “Come to enjoy the show?”

“Tom called us,” Kyle told him. “Thought we might want to be here. Nobody's seriously buying this shit, are they?”

“Apparently so,” Gabe replied. “Got a call from Jessica Andrews a few minutes ago—she heard it on the news.”

Joe cursed under his breath. “Media doesn't miss a beat, do they? Never mind that this son of a bitch is a total whack-job.”

Kyle shook his head as he watched through the observation glass while Sandra Monroe told her story to the deputy Tom had assigned to take her statement. “Look at her body language,” Kyle murmured. “She's clearly been coerced. I can see that even without knowing the backstory. And you can tell she's been coached by the
way
she's telling the story. Every time Adam asks her a question to clarify a detail, she turns to look to her father for approval.”

“I don't think Monroe cares that we know she's lying,” Gabe told them. “Just planting the doubt against Elle and me serves his purpose, even when we're cleared later. This is just a diversion.”

“From what?” Joe asked.

Gabe shook his head. “Wish I knew.”

Tom jerked his chin toward the glass. “Jeremy's up.”

Gabe narrowed his eyes as he watched and listened to Jeremy's account of Gabe's encounter with Sandra. There was just enough truth in it to be believable.

Joe grunted in disgust. “He's pretty damned twitchy. Wonder what Monroe threatened to do to them if they didn't lie for him.”

“Considering what he did to his daughter just for talking to me, God knows,” Gabe murmured, wishing like hell that he'd been able to persuade Sandra to get into his car. Seeing her in person was even worse than what the pictures showed. He fisted his hands at his sides, forcing himself to stay where he was and not charge in there and beat the shit out of Monroe for treating his own daughter with such brutality.

A loud scraping of chairs on the tile floor jolted Gabe from his thoughts. “They're finished? It's only been half an hour.”

“Guess that's all you need when you're lying out your ass,” Kyle said.

Gabe started for the door, but Tom intercepted him, covering the doorknob with his hand before Gabe could reach for it. “No way. You stay here until they've cleared out. The last thing you need is that bastard causing a scene in front of half the department.”

Gabe clenched his jaw, furious at having to hide like a fucking coward, but he raised his arms and took a couple of steps back to let his brothers leave. A few minutes later, Joe opened the door and stuck his head in.