The Sheriff's Son (16 page)

“But…you need to know that—”

His hands gently framed her face. “Answer me one thing, Justine. Do you love me?”

A little sob broke past her lips. “Oh, Roy, I love you with all my heart. I always have. I always will.”

A smile curved the corners of his mouth, and his blue eyes glittered with longing. “Then that's all I need to know.”

“But, Roy—”

Before she could go any farther, the telephone at the head of the bed rang. Roy lifted his head and stared at the intrusive instrument

“I don't want to answer it.”

Justine didn't want him to answer it, either. She didn't want this moment between them to be broken. But he was the sheriff, and if he was needed, she couldn't, in all good conscience, keep him to herself.

“You'd better answer it, Roy. It might be important.”

He hesitated, and the ringing continued. Justine knew the sound was mentally pulling him away from her.

“You're important, Justine. As important to me as my job.”

“I'm not going anywhere,” she assured him. “We have tomorrow, and all our tomorrows, to look forward to now.”

With one fluid movement, he rolled away from her and snatched up the receiver.

“Sheriff Pardee here.”

Justine turned onto her side so that she could watch him.
As soon as he began to listen to the caller on the end of the line, a scowl wrinkled his face.

“When did this happen? Okay. I'll be there in a few minutes.”

He hung up the phone, then looked regretfully at Justine. “I guess it's obvious I have to go.”

Scooting up in the bed, she reached for her T-shirt. “What's happened now? You don't have to go track down some crazy killer, do you?”

“It's nothing like that,” he assured her.

“Roy, when you go out like this, it scares me. I can't help but worry that something might happen to you.”

Shaking his head, he leaned toward her and ran his hand tenderly over her bare shoulder. It touched Roy's heart to know that she cared that much about him, but worrying about him was the last thing he wanted her to do.

“Justine, honey, this is nothing for you to worry about. It's not anything dangerous. One of my deputies caught a big fish tonight. I've got to go question him. Or at least try to question him before his lawyer gets there and shuts him up.”

“A big fish?”

“Just one of many in a drug circle.”

So there wasn't any chance he could put this interruption off until tomorrow, Justine thought. She straightened her bra and quickly tugged the T-shirt back over her head. Then, scooting to the edge of the bed, she searched for her loafers.

Roy picked them up from where they'd fallen from her feet and handed them to her. “It might be hours before I get back. I don't suppose you could wait for me?”

She wanted desperately to say yes. She didn't want this night to end. Especially without him knowing about Charlie. But now that he had to leave, there wasn't any way she could spring that sort of news on him. She was going to have to postpone telling him for the time being.

Rising to her feet, she slid her arms around his waist. “I want to, Roy. But Charlie wouldn't understand why his mother wasn't home in the morning. It might even frighten him.”

He nodded with understanding. “I know you're right. And I wouldn't want the little guy to be upset. But I hate like hell to leave you now,” he added in a husky voice.

She raised up on tiptoe and kissed his lips. “I'll meet you tomorrow after work.”

His hands lingered in her hair as he held her close. “I love you, Justine. Just saying it makes me feel like a different man.”

But how much did he love her? Would he still feel the same way tomorrow, when she told him about Charlie? It terrified her to even think about it now.

“You don't know how happy it makes me to hear you say it,” she told him.

His arm around her shoulders, he guided Justine out of the room and down the dark hallway to the kitchen. The plate of tamales sat uneaten on the table, and she realized he was going to go back to work hungry.

“You didn't get to eat. Would you like for me to make you a sandwich to take with you?”

Roy smiled at her concern for him. “No. One of the deputies will go out and get fast food for me.”

“I'll clean up this mess before I leave,” she told him as she followed him to the door.

Grabbing her by the chin, he placed a rough kiss on her mouth. “I'm not worried about the mess. I'm worried about making it through tomorrow, until I can see you again.”

“Call me,” she urged.

He stepped out the door. “I promise,” he said, then hurried down the deck and into the dark yard.

Moments later, Justine heard his Bronco fire to life, then the sound of the vehicle pulling away.

On weak knees, she walked over to the table, but before
she could reach for the plate of tamales, her eyes blurred with tears and a painful sob rose up in her throat.

Roy loved her. He'd finally decided he could trust her. And now she had to tell him she'd kept Charlie's conception a secret from him for six long years. She couldn't imagine what that was going to do to him. Or to her and Charlie.

E
arly the next morning, Roy was sipping his coffee and eyeing the stack of checks lying on his desk.

“That's right, Grady,” he said to the lawman on the other end of the phone line. “I have the name of the bank and the account number of the depositor. How long will it take you to get me a name? That soon? Good. I'm sending a deputy down there now. He should get there in a couple of hours. If my hunch is right, this name is going to pay off in a case I'm working on. Yeah. Thanks, Grady.”

Roy hung up the phone. Then, leaning his head over his desk and toward the door, he yelled, “Randall, get in here!”

The tall, lanky deputy quickly came into Roy's office. “Yes, sir?”

“I want you to drive to Las Cruces and do a little foot-work.”

“Now?”

“That's right I want you to get down there and start searching through the birth records. I've already contacted the authorities, so they'll be ready for you.”

The young deputy took off his hat and scratched his head. “This is still that thing about the twins? Boy, Sheriff Pardee, I don't see how sifting through all those computer records is gonna help. For all we know, those twins might have been born back in New York.”

“If that turns out to be a possibility, then I'll send you to New York to search, Randall. But right now, I've got a hunch they were born in Las Cruces. When you get there, the sheriff is going to give you a name. It's the name I think will be on the birth certificate.”

“You sound pretty confident.”

“I am. Now get going.”

Randall plopped his hat back on his head. “How long am I supposed to stay?”

“Till you get the job done.”

The young man's mouth fell open. “But that might take days!”

“Then you'll be in Las Cruces for days,” Roy told him. “So get out of here, before I decide to send Billy.”

Not liking the sound of his boss's threat, Randall hurried out of the room.

“And Randall,” Roy yelled after him, “call me the second you find anything!”

“Yes, sir!”

With Randall finally out of sight, Roy picked up the checks Justine had given him and leaned back in his chair.

Tomas Murdock. The rancher's name was signed on each document in bold black strokes. Each time Roy looked at the signature, he got a bad feeling.

For Justine's sake, he hoped his suspicions were wrong. As far as he knew, she had always been very close to her father. He didn't relish the idea of telling her that the man she'd loved and respected wasn't all she believed him to be.

Later that afternoon, Roy was trying to get his mind off
Justine and get something done on a stack of paperwork when the phone on his desk rang.

He picked it up, hoping it was her, and was mildly surprised to hear his deputy's voice on the other end.

“Randall? What's the matter? Did the car break down?”

“Oh, no, Sheriff Pardee. I made it down here this morning just fine. I'm callin' ‘cause I think I've found the information you wanted.”

If Randall had found the identity of the twins' parents, he was going to give him a bonus out of his own pocket.

“Let me have it, and we'll see,” Roy told him.

“I've got it here in front of me. And you know what, Roy, you were right about that name the sheriff gave me.”

“It was a woman?”

“Yes, sir. Belinda Waller. Turns out she's the mother of the babies.”

“Are you sure, Randall? If this is just speculation, we can't use it. You know that, don't you?”

“It's not speculation, Sheriff Pardee. I've got the computer screen right here in front of me. And it's pretty damn obvious I've found the parents. The other name on those checks is the father.”

“Tomas Murdock is listed as the father?”

“Yep. Belinda Waller, mother. Tomas Murdock, father. They were born nearly six months ago, here in a Las Cruces hospital.”

Roy let out a heavy sigh. He'd suspected the old man had had something to do with the twins, but not to this extent. He couldn't imagine how Justine and her family were going to react to hearing they had a new brother and sister.

“Randall, you've done good. Get a copy of the birth certificates and get back up here with it. Did Grady have any information on the woman? Is she still in Las Cruces?”

“No, sir. She didn't have any sort of criminal record. But she's split from the last known address she had here.”

“Well, we'll find her. We've got something to go on now.”

“Uh, Sheriff Pardee, there's something else I wanted to ask you. Do you have any relatives down here in Las Cruces?”

“Me? No, I don't have many relatives, period. Why?” Roy asked with wry amusement. “Did you find a Pardee listed among the felons?”

Randall awkwardly cleared his throat. “No. When I was scrolling through the birth records, I found a Roy Pardee.”

“Well, I wasn't born in Las Cruces, Randall. I was born in Ruidoso.”

“No. This isn't
your
birth record, Sheriff Pardee. This is—well, it's kinda strange, sir.”

His curiosity piqued now, Roy raised up in his chair. “Spit it out, Randall. I haven't got all day, and neither have you.”

“Let me find it,” Randall told his boss as he quickly scrolled back through the records. “Okay, here it is. Roy Pardee is listed as father. The birth was a little over five years ago.”

Five years ago. A sick feeling suddenly rushed through Roy. “What's the mother's name?”

“That's just it, Sheriff Pardee. It's the same as the twins' daddy. Murdock. Justine Murdock.”

Roy felt as if someone had whacked him in the midsection with an ax. He couldn't breathe or think. He was numb with shock.

Several moments passed in silence as Randall waited for his boss to make a reply. When the line continued to remain silent, he decided to yell.

“Sheriff Pardee! Roy! Are you still there? Are you listening to me?”

Roy forced himself to take a deep breath, and then another. “Yeah,” he finally answered, “I'm still here.”

“I hope I haven't opened a can of worms here, sir. I was just searching for evidence, not—anything else.”

“Don't worry about it, Randall.”

“But if someone has wrongly named you the father of their child, well, I thought you'd want to know about it.”

“What is the child's name, Randall?” he asked, his lips so stiff and cold he could hardly form the words.

The deputy read, “‘Charles Tomas.' He weighed seven pounds and twelve ounces and was twenty-one inches long.”

Any other time, those facts and figures would have simply been information to Roy. But this was
his
son. He should have been privy to all these things the day Charlie was born!

“I haven't been wrongly accused, Randall. Charlie is my son.”

“Oh—I didn't know.”

Neither had he, Roy wanted to yell. Instead, he kept his voice flat as he slowly said, “It looks as though you've done all you can do down there for right now, Randall. Come on home, and I'll see you when you get back.”

“Right, Sheriff Pardee. And, sir, you don't have to worry about me, uh…mentioning this to anyone.”

Anger had driven the numbing shock from Roy's body. It was shaking his hands, throbbing his temples.

“It doesn't matter if you do, Randall. ‘Cause I sure as hell intend to!”

Justine dashed a brush through her red waves, then hurried down the hallway to the front desk. Of all the days for her to have to work past five, she thought, this had to be the one.

“Carlita, do I have any phone messages?”

The woman glanced over to the scratch pad she kept by the telephone. “Only one. Your aunt said she was going to
her friend's for supper, and that Charlie would be with Chloe and Rose.”

Justine nodded. “Is that all? Sheriff Pardee hasn't called?”

Carlita shook her head. “No. There hasn't been any other calls for you.”

Justine reached for the phone and punched in the number of the sheriff's department in Carrizozo. She figured Roy would have already called to tell her where to meet him this evening. Perhaps he'd had to go out on an emergency.

The dispatcher quickly informed her that the sheriff had left the office this afternoon and hadn't been back since. “Is this an emergency?” she asked Justine.

“No. I—just needed to contact him. Thank you anyway.”

“You might try his home,” the woman suggested.

Justine couldn't imagine that Roy had driven all the way to the Pardee Ranch, when he'd been planning to meet her after work, but she would try the number, just in case something had called him home.

“Yes. I will. Thank you.”

“Problems?” Carlita asked as Justine pressed the receiver button.

Justine smiled—something she'd been doing all day long. “Don't ever get involved with a lawman, Carlita. You can never find them when you want them.”

Carlita let out a saucy laugh. “If I had a man like Sheriff Pardee, I'd be in big trouble, ‘cause I'd be looking for him all the time.”

Waving away Carlita's teasing, she punched in the number at Roy's ranch. It rang several times before Justine decided to hang up. “Oh, well,” she said with a shrug, “it looks as though I've been stood up.”

“I wouldn't worry, honey. I'm sure the man has a good reason.”

Justine told Carlita goodbye for the evening and left the
clinic. She wasn't really sure what to do next. She hated to drive home and have Roy miss her here. Maybe if she waited in the parking lot for a few minutes, he'd show up.

She sat in her truck for thirty minutes, watching for the approach of his Bronco. After a while, both Carlita and Dr. Bellamy left the building and, except for her, the parking lot was empty.

Feeling more than a little deflated, Justine decided to drive on home. Once she reached Ruidoso Downs, she made a quick pass by the police station, but there was no sign of Roy's Bronco, or any vehicle connected to the Lincoln County Sheriff's Department, parked outside the building.

Justine didn't know what to think. Roy had promised to call and meet her after work. He'd seemed so anxious and eager about it. Yet he'd done neither. She couldn't imagine what might have happened. As for her, all day long she had been counting the minutes until she could see him again. She'd expected him to be counting the minutes, too.

Justine had driven only a few miles toward Hondo when an ominous feeling began to settle over her. She told herself to shake it, but the more she tried to pass it off, the more worried she became. These past few weeks, she'd come to realize just how dangerous Roy's job could be at times. He was a target for all sorts of deranged people.

Her family wasn't expecting her home until later tonight. To ease her mind, she would drive over to the Pardee Ranch and see for herself if Roy was there.

More than thirty minutes later, she pulled to a stop outside Roy's log house and was warily surprised to see his Bronco parked in the shade of a cottonwood tree.

What was he doing home? Had something happened to one of the cows? The horses?

Climbing down from her truck, she glanced toward the barn. At the same time, Levi bounded up to greet her.

“Hello, boy,” she said to the dog as she gave him a loving pat on the head. “Where's your master?”

With a wag of his tail, the dog urged her around to the back of the house and up on the deck. “I'm going to see if you're as smart as Rin Tin Tin,” she said to Levi as she knocked on the door.

After a moment, footsteps sounded through the house. She shot the scruffy dog an impressive look. “I guess you are. You probably belong in the movies.”

“What are you doing here?”

Justine's head jerked up, and she saw Roy standing behind the screen door. “What do you mean, what am I doing here?” she asked with a little laugh. “You were supposed to meet me in town!”

“So I was,” he said in a clipped voice.

His sudden switch from hot to cold completely baffled Justine. She stared at him, wondering and waiting for him to explain.

When he didn't make any sort of reply, she asked, “Have you been drinking?”

He snorted. “If I were a drinking man, Justine, I would have already been stone drunk.”

He turned away from the screen and out of her sight. Not waiting for an invitation, Justine opened the door and stepped into the kitchen.

Roy was nowhere to be seen, so she walked down the hallway to the living room. The house was closed and stuffy. She didn't know why he hadn't opened the windows or turned on the air conditioner. Did he not feel the heat?

Justine found him standing in front of a picture window, his hard profile staring out at the desert hills surrounding the ranch house. She walked over to him.

“Is something wrong, Roy?” She knew the question sounded inane, but what else could she ask? Last night, when she left him, he'd been happy, loving, eager for them to put the past behind them.

He let out a caustic laugh. “Oh, I wouldn't call it wrong,” he finally said in a sneering voice. “Actually, I guess you could say everything is all right now. I've made a narrow escape.”

She wanted to reach out to him, but the look on his face warned her that he would only shake away her touch. “You had—Did something happen at work?”

He smiled coldly. “Did something happen at work? Sit down, sweet Justine, and I'll tell you all about it.” He made a sweeping gesture with his arm toward the couch. “In fact, before you drove up, I was just sitting here trying to figure out the best way to give you the news.”

“News? You've heard something about the twins?”

He pointed toward the couch. “I said, sit down.”

She glared at him. “Don't order me about, Roy. I'm not one of your deputies. And I'm not in the mood to play games. So if you've got something to tell me, get on with it.”