Chapter 10
Jules chuckled to herself as she watched Cal and his brother drive away.
She could see how much her cooperation and kindness toward the detective bugged the sheriff.
The inspiration had come to her the instant she opened the door and found Cal grinning his magnetic grin and standing beside a man whose family resemblance was unmistakable.
But why had she felt the impulse to needle the sheriff?
He’d been nothing but kind and professional with her.
She even rather admired his ability to hold his own when she verbally sparred with him.
Maybe that was the problem. She liked the taut exchanges too much.
She enjoyed goading a wry laugh from him and seeing the mischievous spark light his blue eyes.
While she couldn’t let him know she was charmed by him—that would only pointlessly encourage him—teasing him was entertaining in a time of her life otherwise filled with disappointment, worry and boredom.
She saw no break in that pattern as long as she was in Red Grove, searching for justice and relief for her sister and working this thankless job.
She sighed as she returned to the chemistry journal she’d been browsing when the men had arrived.
As long as the store was closed, she could do something to stay current on research and innovations in her field.
She didn’t even dare to clean up the fingerprint dust on the sales floor until she got approval to reopen.
That permission came a couple of hours later, from Cal, who dropped by in person bearing a sack of hamburgers and cold french fries from a fast food joint in town.
“I have a landline here at the shop, you know. You could have called to tell me,” she said as he brushed past her with the greasy bag that smelled heavenly. “And I’m not a charity case that you have to feed.”
“Not trying to imply you are, but my mother was big on teaching us not to show up empty-handed. Seeing as it was the lunch hour, and I had to eat as well, I thought I’d share.
” He unpacked the food onto the tiny break room table, and she pulled a fry from the pack.
“Besides, I know the forensic team left a mess in the other room, and I wanted to help clean up. Can’t stay long, though.
I have a meeting with the mayor at two.”
She felt like a heel for rebuffing his gesture, so she mumbled, “Well, thanks. I am kinda starving.” After one bite, she tossed the cold french fry back into the pack. “Cold fries are the pits. What a waste.”
“True. But this place is a fair hike out in the boonies.” Cal took a large bite of his burger. “So I was thinking…”
“I thought I smelled smoke.”
He grinned and tapped his head. “Mmm. Faulty wiring up there, you know.”
She smiled without meaning to. “Anyway, your brilliant thoughts were?”
Before he could answer, there was a loud pounding on the back door.
Cal held his sandwich suspended halfway to his mouth. “You expecting someone?”
She pushed away from the table. “I wasn’t expecting you, yet here we are.”
When she opened the door, the haggard face that greeted her shot ice to her core.
Chase Hamilton.
She had to dig deep not to show any reaction to the man in his delivery uniform and unkempt hair. Instead, she silently opened the door wider to allow him room to push his loaded dolly inside. He said nothing to her, either, as he strode past, reeking of cigarettes and God knew what else.
When she turned around, Cal was standing in the door to the break room, but his attention was focused on her, not Chase.
Her gut churning, she returned to the break room, trying to hide her agitation, from both Cal and Chase. Letting the jangle of nerves and swirl of acid and loathing in her gut show to either man could be disastrous. Suddenly the aroma of hamburgers and cold fries turned her stomach.
Chase went about his work, unloading cases of snack foods and flats of canned soft drinks in the storage room.
When he was done there, he entered the break room without looking at her or Cal.
Though Cal was dressed casually, his golf shirt did bear the insignia of the sheriff’s department if Chase paid attention to that detail.
And how would Chase react to the unexpected presence of law enforcement on his delivery route?
While trying to remain inconspicuous, she monitored Chase from the corner of her eye, all the while feeling the weight of Cal’s gaze on her. She heard Cal eating, though she could only pick at her burger.
When Chase walked toward her, she tensed and jerked her attention up to him, on full alert. He held out a clipboard, and she exhaled.
Of course. She had to sign for the delivery.
Once she’d scribbled her initials on the sheet, Chase wheeled the dolly around and marched out, letting the door slam behind him.
No “thank you” or “have a nice day.” Not that she wanted one from him.
She didn’t want anything from Chase Hamilton, except maybe for him to crawl in a hole and die. The bastard.
Keeping her eyes down, she flattened both hands on the cool Formica tabletop and drew a slow calming breath.
Cal set his burger on the open wrapper on the table. His chair squeaked as he leaned back in it. If eyes could drill holes, she’d be Swiss cheese.
“What?” she growled, finally shooting him a glare.
“I didn’t say anything.”
She stuffed her uneaten burger and fries back in the greasy sack and pushed it away.
“I thought you were starving,” he said, picking up his burger and finishing it in two bites.
“Lost my appetite.”
He wiped his hands on a napkin then balled the paper wrapper from his sandwich.
“Want to tell me what that was all about?” When she opened her mouth to deny she had anything to tell, he held up a finger.
“I’m an expert in reading body language and determining when I’m being lied to, so don’t even try. ”
“How about ‘none of your business’?” she said, feeling prickly again.
“Maybe so, but considering I could feel the waves of tension rolling off of you while that guy was here, it certainly begs the question.”
She stayed silent, although she figured he could probably hear the heavy thudding of her heart.
“I’d like to help if I can.” He tipped his head and scratched his chin. “You know, I have resources at my disposal…”
Resources… Her pulse tripped. Was there a way Cal could help her take down Chase Hamilton?
Did she dare trust him with something no one else in law enforcement or the court system had helped her with in the past?
Wouldn’t she be wasting her breath asking for his help?
And wouldn’t working with him risk letting down her walls?
She’d have to spend time with him, give him private details about her past, her family, her mission.
But hadn’t she also promised Abby she’d do anything she could to bring her sister justice and make sure she was safe?
“Forgive me if I’m skeptical of your offer. I’ve asked law enforcement for help in the past, and they’ve failed me, spectacularly.”
To his credit, Cal didn’t dismiss her reply with one of his flippant and breezy responses or diminish her pain with a wink and a grin. “I’m sorry to hear that. How did law enforcement fail you?”
“By failing my sister.”
“Is this related to the reason you moved here to Red Grove? You said last night that you came here for your sister. To protect her, I believe was how you put it.”
“Yes. To protect her. Because law enforcement and the court system refused to do their job.” The old discouragement and anger bubbled up in her, and she balled her hands to keep them from trembling.
Cal leaned toward her, his expression full of compassion. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
She sat back in her chair, debating.
He flipped up a palm. “Tell me about your sister. What’s going on?”
To her dismay, tears stung her eyes, and she had to swipe the moisture quickly to keep them from falling.
Clearing her throat, she shoved down the ache and buried it under the layers of resentment and frustration that fueled her fight.
For years, she’d used her bitterness as a shield against despair and hopelessness.
She’d never intended to share Abby’s story with another cop or lawyer.
She’d pleaded with law enforcement and court officials for years, to no avail.
And while she knew on a practical level that Cal Colton, sheriff or not, was unlikely to make a difference in Abby’s case, she couldn’t ignore even the tiniest hope that Cal could help.
She took a beat, reining in the galloping of her heart and her agitated breathing. When she felt she had regained her composure, she said, “My sister is in the mental health facility just outside Red Grove. She had a mental health crisis—what used to be called a nervous breakdown.”
Sympathy washed over his face. “I see. Go on.”
“Abby was a happy, healthy child, despite our unreliable parents.” She waved a hand. “Another story for another time.”
He gave her a silent nod.
“Abby is beautiful and sweet and kind and…fragile. She attracted the attention of a man who worked for her college a couple of years ago. He began stalking her. Relentlessly. Frighteningly. Creepily. We knew who he was and called the police every time he escalated or approached her. We tried to get a restraining order against the guy, but the court claimed we didn’t have sufficient proof that the guy posed a threat.
We used all our money on the first incompetent lawyer we hired and couldn’t afford to relitigate.
So she moved. She transferred to a new college.
Twice. The guy followed her. We called the cops again and again, and they did little or nothing to stop him from showing up everywhere she went and scaring her to death. ”
“Did he ever physically harm her? That should be enough to—”