Chapter Thirteen
Thanks to the flashing light bar on top of his truck, Martin made good time in driving Bailey Rae to the library after Libby had been found—confused and refusing to budge from the back stoop.
Later, he would unpack the implications of that kiss from Bailey Rae.
For now, he operated in business mode, calling off the search while Bailey Rae sat in the passenger seat texting Keith nonstop for details about Libby’s state of mind before she went missing.
As Martin turned into the library’s back lot, he switched off the light bar so as not to risk disorienting Libby.
His headlights swept across her on the back steps, with her walker discarded to the side.
A small cluster of teenagers from the volunteer search parties stood beside Libby with their phones out.
Frail and curved in on herself, she took up so little space it was a wonder anyone had noticed her in the dark.
Tonight, more than ever, this town reminded him of a place stuck in time, of a gentler, more trusting era.
He couldn’t imagine anywhere else that a woman with dementia could ditch her wheelchair for her walker, ramble all around town, and come to no harm.
Except this wasn’t the past, and there were dangerous undercurrents swirling in Bent Oak.
Even though he was no longer an MP, those cop instincts were tough to shake, and those instincts insisted these people needed a larger police force.
Bailey Rae and all her pseudo-mamas drew out his protective instincts.
More than that, though. He cared about them, with their generous hearts, quirky ways, and an unerring ability to land in the middle of a storm time and time again.
He pressed the brake, but before he could even shift the truck into park, Bailey Rae flung open her door, letting in a gust of muggy summer air.
She called back to him over her shoulder, “Keith’s only a few minutes away.
I’m going to sit with her. When I phoned the EMTs, they said it might take a while to arrive since they’re slammed with calls . ..”
Was she running to Libby or away from him and the aftermath of the spontaneous kiss?
Either way, Bailey Rae leaped from the truck and raced to the older woman’s side, half acknowledging the teens with a wave.
Martin parked and thanked the cluster of high schoolers too before they piled back into a sedan with mismatched quarter panels.
He checked his watch, wondering how far out Keith had gone in his search and how long it would take him to arrive.
Would they be better off driving her to the ER now?
Bailey Rae knew her best, so he would take his cue from her.
Gripping the rail, she sat gently on the concrete step beside her. “Mrs. Libby, the library’s closed for the day. How about we take you home?”
“Shhh.” Libby held a finger to her mouth. “Loose lips sink ships. We don’t want anyone around town to hear us. I’m just handing over the paperwork, but they’re late.”
Frowning, Bailey Rae hugged her tanned legs. “What paperwork?”
“From the paralegal,” Libby whispered, tugging at her loose denim pants absently. Compulsively. A sure sign her agitation was growing. “A birth certificate and Social Security card to replace the old ones.”
Bailey Rae patted Libby’s hand until the nervous fidgeting slowed. “I’m sure the old papers aren’t lost. I bet Keith has them filed away.”
“I do not lose things, you know.” Frustration leaked into Libby’s voice, her volume increasing. “I just have to be careful to remember my name. That’s tougher than it sounds.”
Martin crouched in front of her in hopes of de-escalating the older woman’s stress. “Mrs. Libby, how about I stay with you awhile? Then you won’t have to sit here alone in the dark.”
“No need, young man. I should get home to my son.” Libby frowned, plucking at her sleeve. “Who are you again?”
Bailey Rae slid an arm around Libby’s shoulders. “This is Martin, the game warden. He’s with me.”
Libby’s feet started tapping, like she was running in place. “I don’t know what to do. Where am I supposed to go next?” She patted her pockets, her voice rising. “I can’t find my papers. What did you do with the envelope?”
Martin struggled for what to say, hating the feeling of helplessness, all the while knowing the emotions churning in him didn’t come close to what Libby must be experiencing.
Bailey Rae pointed toward Main Street, distracting Libby. “Look over there. That’s your ride. Your boy is almost here with the van, and he will have all the answers.”
Martin pushed to his feet, glad to have a way to help rather than just hoping for the right words. “Mrs. Libby, I’ll get your walker and escort you to your ride.”
Since the wheelchair wasn’t in sight, he assumed she must have been more mobile today, making her way over with the walker. She had to be exhausted.
Keith’s minivan sped into the lot, tires spewing gravel as he swept into a parking spot. The vehicle jerked to a stop, and he didn’t even turn off the engine before hopping out of the driver’s side.
Martin stopped him short and said softly, “She appears physically okay, but disoriented. Bailey Rae called the EMTs, but they haven’t arrived. You may want to take your mom to get checked out by a doctor.”
“Thanks, man.” Keith nodded, then jogged to his mother’s side. “Mom, why did you wander off like that? I was really worried.”
Libby’s eyes went wide, and she tried to scoot back on the step, only to cry out in pain. “Fred, I’m sorry. I was coming home soon. I promise. I just, um, wanted to go to choir practice.”
Fred? Martin looked to Bailey Rae for answers, but she just shrugged, looking as bemused as he felt.
Keith clasped her hands gently. “It’s okay. I’ve got you now.”
“Please forgive me,” Libby said, her whole body trembling. “You know I love you. I swear I’ll never take off like that again. Please don’t make me stop playing the organ at church.”
Martin could almost smell the fear radiating off her.
A deep unease crept through him as he realized her trembling reminded him of Gia’s from that day at the market.
As if she were speaking to someone who frightened her.
Was her son guilty of elder abuse? Except her son’s name wasn’t Fred. Maybe a memory of her dead husband?
The sound of a creaking car door cut short Martin’s concerns as June eased out of the passenger side and activated the vehicle’s side panel with the wheelchair ramp. “Libby, honey,” she called, “it’s time for us to go. We aren’t needed here tonight. Everything’s under control.”
June’s calm words worked their magic. Libby took a shuddering breath and reached for them to help her stand until they could maneuver the walker in front of her. Keith hustled double time to get his mother loaded up before the bubble of calm June had created popped.
Libby scooted the walker along the concrete walkway. “We have to pick up Keith from the principal’s office. I don’t want to make us late.”
June cupped her shoulder. “Of course you want to be prompt. The sooner we get in the van, the sooner we can be on our way.” She continued her litany of words as she shepherded Libby along. “We can have a glass of sweet tea and talk all about it when we get back to your place.”
As June and Keith loaded his mother into the van, their love for the woman shone through in their patience and calm.
The same way Martin’s sister cared for their aging parents.
Standing here now, he felt guilty for not doing more, for diving so deep into his need for peace that he’d isolated himself.
He’d thought more than once about himself as an outsider, an observer of an area different from where he’d grown up. Could that be the reason he’d taken the job in Bent Oak, far removed from anyone or anywhere familiar, where there was less chance of emotional connection?
If so, he hadn’t taken Bailey Rae Rigby into account.
Just thinking her name had him noticing her aloe scent on the night air, inconvenient when he had other concerns that needed addressing first. The best path forward? Tuck away the attraction to Bailey Rae and focus on what had happened here tonight.
The quiet intensified as the rumble of the van’s engine faded.
Martin stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Bailey Rae? I need to ask you. Is Libby safe at home? With her son, I mean.”
Bailey Rae’s eyes went wide with surprise. “Yes, absolutely. He’s dedicated to taking care of her. Libby’s husband abused her, though. I don’t know the full story, but it was bad enough she took quite a few blows to the head.”
Martin cursed under his breath as she confirmed what would have been his next guess. He closed his eyes, scrubbing a hand along the ache pounding in his forehead. “So her disease took her back to when she’d suffered that abuse. What a nightmare.”
Bailey Rae touched his shoulder lightly, then clasped his hand. “Thank you for bringing me here to her. You did a great job keeping Libby calm until Keith arrived. That military cop training served you well tonight.”
“Glad to be of help. This is my town now too.” He paused. “Or maybe I’m not allowed to say that since I didn’t grow up here. That’s a Southern thing, right?”
“Thea didn’t grow up here either, yet she’s a part of the community.” Bailey Rae slumped back against the brick library. “I’m the one who’s leaving. You’re staying. The way I see it, that officially means you belong in Bent Oak more than I do.”
Standing only inches away from her, he could only look at her and the way the moonlight glinted on the golden streaks in her auburn hair. He waited for her to pull away, but she simply stared back. Unmoving. Except for her thumb moving along his wrist.
The moment made him want things he couldn’t have. Reminding him he needed to say something about what had happened between them.
He cleared his throat. “About the kiss earlier, if things were different ...”