Chapter 42
Gray held back a yawn as he drove toward the police station with Shadow the next morning. Since he’d gotten up so early he
went home and measured the broken windows. Put an order in with Gavin without divulging why they needed to be replaced ASAP.
Gray also had an interesting chat with his neighbor Mrs. Lyons.
The whole event last night tormented him. He’d hardly slept. Kept reliving the shooting over and over. So many things could’ve
gone wrong. What if Shelby had been in the living room when the bullets came flying through the windows? What if he hadn’t
covered Oliver in time?
Guilt weighed on him like a lead cape. His presence had put Shelby and her family in the direct line of fire last night—literally.
One of them could’ve died. And for what? So he could cling stubbornly to his right to be here? So he could be with the woman
he loved?
What kind of love risked the lives of his woman and her family? Risked the beloved business she’d inherited from her grandmother?
She’d be better off without him.
A hollow spot opened inside him at the thought of leaving her. He didn’t want to. He just didn’t see any other option. If
he went away, all her problems would end: The boycott would stop and she would be safe. Those were the things that mattered.
As the police station came into view, he braked. This visit to the chief was a Hail Mary at best. It would probably only paint a bigger target on his back, but he had to try.
He pulled into the station at the stroke of eight o’clock. He could only hope that since Officer Remington had worked late
last night he wouldn’t be at the station this early. Once in a parking space Gray shut off the engine and exited the vehicle.
“Be right back, boy.”
He shut the door and locked the SUV. As he rounded the front, two shadows closed in on him. He blinked in surprise at the
sight of Caleb and Stanley. His steps faltered.
“Shelby told us you’d be here this morning,” Caleb said.
“We won’t let you do this alone.” Stanley’s chin hitched in the same way Shelby’s did when she dug in. “I’ve known Terrence
Jameson for years. He’ll at least hear us out.”
Their presence lifted the weight from Gray’s shoulders. Warmed a place inside him that had been cold a long time. “Thank you.”
As they made their way toward the building, hope surged inside Gray, but he gave it a solid downward push. Inside the precinct
phones pealed and staff shuffled papers. The office was already a hive of activity. He glanced around the station, searching
for Remington. No sign of him.
Gray approached the front desk and asked the fortysomething brunette if he could speak with Chief Jameson.
“Do you have an appointment?” she said with a benign expression.
“No, but this concerns a crime that happened on my property last night.”
“Oh. Well, let me set you up with Officer Stokes. He’s in charge of—”
“Morning, Kim.” Stanley stepped forward, offering a friendly smile. “How are you?”
The woman’s face lit up. “Oh, hi, Professor Thatcher. Niki and I were just talking about you yesterday. She’s really enjoying your English class.”
“Glad to hear it. She’s a bright young lady. A pleasure to have in class.”
Kim beamed with pride. “She’s always been an excellent student—she must get that from Greg.”
“I’m entirely sure that’s not true. Listen, I know Chief Jameson is a busy man, but we have a matter of some import we’d like
to discuss with him. Do you think you could get us a few minutes with him?”
“Oh, I think I can manage that. Have a seat in the lobby and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you, Kim. We sure do appreciate it.”
“Of course.” She headed back toward the offices and the men took seats in the waiting area.
Good thing Stanley was here. Gray wouldn’t have stepped foot past the chief’s doorway. As it happened, less than three minutes
later Kim ushered the men into Jameson’s office.
The fiftysomething man rose from his seat. He was at least a few inches over six feet. The fluorescent light gleamed off his
rich-brown dome. His uniform stretched over a barrel chest and muscular arms. If the guy spent most of his time behind a desk,
he must make good use of a gym membership.
The chief greeted Stanley and Caleb like old friends, and Stanley formally introduced Gray, though the man undoubtedly knew
him by reputation.
“Please, have a seat. I heard what happened last night, Gray. I’m glad no one was hurt.”
“We were lucky. But I was grazed by a bullet, sir. A bullet that could’ve hit Caleb’s son.”
The chief’s keen brown eyes sharpened on Caleb. “I wasn’t aware.”
“Gray threw himself over Oliver after the first shot was fired. He may very well have saved my baby’s life.”
“Well, thank God for that. I haven’t had a chance to read the report yet.” His gaze returned to Gray. “Why don’t you tell
me exactly what happened.”
Gray told him the full story, from the first shot to the discovery that he’d been nicked by a bullet. The man took notes on
a pad of paper, listening without interruption. His expression gave away nothing.
When Gray finished, Jameson leaned his elbows on his desk. “The front room was dark? And two windows were shot?”
“Yes.”
“It sounds like this might’ve been meant as some kind of warning.”
“I don’t think the gunman necessarily meant to kill anyone, but that doesn’t negate the fact that he could’ve.”
“Fair enough. Do you have any enemies in town, Mr. Briggs? Anyone who might be holding a grudge?”
“Come on, Terrence,” Stanley said. “You know who wants Gray out of town.”
“I’ve heard the rumors, sure. But I don’t give much credence to gossip.”
Of course not. “You must know about the vandalism incident at my house last week—I filed a report. And back in November one
of your officers pulled me over without cause.”
“Which officer was that?”
“Officer Remington stopped me for driving while intoxicated—even though I don’t drink alcohol at all and wasn’t swerving or
breaking any traffic laws.”
He made a note. “Were you given a Breathalyzer test?”
“Yes. After he put me in handcuffs and brought me in. I was held for five hours. My test came back clean.”
“I’ll look into that.”
Stanley leaned forward. “We appreciate it, Terrence. It may be a rumor that the Remingtons want to chase Gray from town, but you might find it interesting that ever since my daughter and Gray officially began dating last week, her business has suffered terribly. Even through the Stroll she had very few customers. Believe me when I say it was unprecedented—and no coincidence.”
Caleb spoke up. “When my wife, Liddy, was at The Big Tease last week, Glenda Ellsworth told her she overheard RaeAnne and
Ida Mae talking about the Remingtons’ scheme to chase Gray out of town.”
He jotted more notes. “No one saw the shooter last night? The car, anything?”
“We took cover right away,” Gray said. “But I talked to one of my neighbors this morning. She saw a white truck race away
immediately after the gunshots.”
“Name?” Jameson asked.
“Ellen Lyons.”
“Anything else I should know?” His tone was moderated, his face unreadable.
“I think that about covers it,” Gray said.
“We take the safety of our citizens seriously around here. As I said, I’ll check into this.” When the chief stood, the men
followed suit. “Thanks for coming by.”
Stanley extended his hand. “We appreciate your efforts, Terrence. Thank you.”
Once they reached the parking lot, Gray thanked the men for showing up today, then they parted ways. Their presence meant
a lot to him. More than they would probably ever realize.
But Gray wasn’t a fool. The chief might have the best of intentions, but going up against the powerful Remington family? Turning
on one of his officers? Seemed pretty unlikely.
But he’d done all he could do. If it wasn’t enough... well, that was the story of his life.
The bookstore was closed today, but he headed there anyway.
He’d put out a newsletter to Shelby’s customer base, featuring their new releases and advertising their December sales.
He’d line up a few weeks of social media posts that would carry her through Christmas. But first he had to stop by his house.
Gray might not be able to expose the Remingtons’ scheme, but he could and would save Shelby’s store—if it was the very last
thing he did.