Chapter 15
T he quick round of sex with Brock was what she’d needed to lift her mood. She arrived at the jail and parked her Mustang between two pickups. After she got out, she trotted toward the entrance.
A familiar flash of green caught her eye as a pickup disappeared down the street. She froze. It was a green much like the vehicle she saw yesterday in the shelter belt.
It couldn’t be. Gage wouldn’t be so bold as to drive through a small town where he planned to steal a car.
If Gage was here for the Shelby, then he’d need a trailer to haul it. It couldn’t be him. She took a step with the surge of relief. Then stopped.
What if it was stashed somewhere while he ran into town for supplies?
No, he’d bring his own supplies. But would he have the foresight to pack lunch like Brock, or would he drop the trailer and run to town?
Son of a bitch.
No. She shook her head at herself and started walking again. She was too damn paranoid and her brother needed her support more than she needed to worry about fucking Gage.
Checking in, she made small talk with the deputy. She’d met them all as often as she visited Jesse. Her hand shook as she signed in. What would prison be like for him? Would the staff be as congenial as Moore?
They put her in the standard small square room to wait for Jesse. She twisted her hands together under the table and tried to keep from worrying about both her brother and whether it was really Gage she saw.
Shuffling in, wearing his orange scrubs, he shot her a mournful look. “I’m sorry, Josie.”
“It is what it is. If you get out and do it again, an apology won’t help your ass.”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t come, but I’m glad you did.”
Lines of stress creased his forehead. “I don’t know what I’m going to do when I get out. I’m a felon now.”
She grimaced, but wanted to help him feel better. “People love a comeback kid.”
“I’m fucking thirty years old, Jo.” His tone was flat.
She gave him a half-hearted shrug but didn’t know what else to tell him. The green truck bothered her, and her gaze drifted to the wall.
She must’ve checked out longer than she thought. Jesse snapped his fingers, but not in front of her face. He probably thought they’d come in and tackle him.
“What’s going on? That Walker boy didn’t upset you, did he?”
“No, not him.” Her brother had heavier shit weighing on his mind, but it didn’t stop her from spilling her worries to him.
“I think Bill’s going to…” she looked at the cameras, “acquire the car, you know, the one I told you about.”
Jesse swore under his breath. “You can’t let him, Josie.” He was adamant. “If he does, call the…” His gaze darted to the door.
Cops. Yeah. That’d be a hot mess. Turning Bill in. Hadn’t she done enough when she’d screwed him out of the car that could save his business?
“I’ll go home and see what’s going on first.” She regretted burdening Jesse, but his equal dismay made her feel better. She wasn’t overreacting, and she wasn’t silly for considering Bill capable of auto theft. Changing the subject, she asked, “Are you going to be transported right away?”
“No.” He sounded relieved, and she couldn’t blame him. “They told me it might be a few months before there’s an opening, but I’ll get credit for time served after the trial. I can call you in a couple of days. When I get to…” his voice grew thick. “I’ll call when I can.”
She bobbed her head, couldn’t speak around the lump in her throat. “A year will go by quicker than we think and you’ll be out.”
“Hope so,” he said and she detected false optimism, probably for her benefit.
He couldn’t visit for long and it was best she didn’t waste time getting home. Otherwise, she’d find herself at the Walker celebratory barbeque, feeling she like was knifing her brother in the back.
The drive to Waite Park was long and lonely. Brock wasn’t a chatterbox, but silence didn’t feel so oppressive when she was with him.
As soon as she got home, she wanted to turn around and head right back. Brock’s place was vibrant and full of life, even for a mellow guy who lived in a structured environment. But his house was a home, whereas hers hadn’t felt that way since Mom passed, bless her soul.
Grief that’d been at bay since she’d met Brock welled up.
She hadn’t realized how toxic her home environment had become.
Her dad was a shady businessman who made poor decisions and limited her options because of them.
Not to mention the lack of support she’d had when burying her mom and afterward in the mourning process.
If she didn’t have a serious talk with Bill, he’d imprison her as effectively as Jesse was, only her brother had an end date.
She pulled her Mustang into the garage and tried not to think of the Walker family get-together commemorating her brother’s sentencing. What was all over for the Walker family was her daily reality.
But Jesse was mentally in a good place. He’d had time away from Bill’s degrading and cajoling comments. Would the year in prison change his newfound sensibility?
Probably.
With a heavy sigh, she grabbed her things and got out.
“What are you doing home early?”
She yelped and jumped against the car. “Dad! You scared the shit out of me.”
“I must’ve.”
She’d called him Dad and he caught it. A one second scare and her decade long rebellion had ended.
Clutching her bag in a steel grip, she willed her heart rate down. “My friend had plans and I didn’t want to spend money on a room.”
The lines around her dad’s eyes were pinched and his mouth tight until he spoke. “I have some work coming in that I want you to stay out of.”
“Part of your hobby?” she asked snidely.
“You know what’s going on,” he snapped. “You’re not a child anymore.”
“No, I’m not, and as your adult daughter, I have to ask, why do you keep doing it? We get enough legit business—”
“We don’t. Not to compete with the dealerships and bigger garages.” His shoulders drooped and he looked ten years older than normal. “With your mama gone, I’ve got to take care of you. So let me do this and make things right. I’ve got a plan.”
I’ve got a plan coming from Bill didn’t inspire confidence.
She splayed her hand across her laptop bag.
She’d finished some small projects at Brock’s place that she’d send off once she set up her laptop.
But her clients weren’t enough to make a living.
What choice did she have but to rely on Bill’s scheme?
Still, she said, “I wish you’d let me in on your plans. Maybe I could help.” Maybe I could talk you out of stealing from the same family that put Jesse away .
“I don’t want you involved in this. Just stay out of the garage for a few days. The books can wait.”
Always protecting her. Bill was still her dad and he was trying his best for her; his core wasn’t rotten. But his best sucked and he resorted to deplorable methods. Her anger flared.
What was he up to? If he planned to steal the Shelby, he wouldn’t tell her.
She’d have to wait and see. If Gage was really out of town, then maybe she’d pull Bill aside for a brutally honest discussion.
If she asked about Gage then Bill would get the wrong idea about her interest in her ex, or he’d lie like he always did.
In the meantime, she could finish her website and Travis’s logo and gather some more projects. Build herself a means to get out of Waite Park and out from under Bill’s bad decisions.
“Okay, Bill. Let me know when you’re ready for me.”
Brock hung out in Travis’s yard while the rest of his family mingled.
The wind had died through the evening but still rustled leaves in the trees that shaded the lawn.
Groups of his relatives were scattered inside the house and out.
He never worked the crowd. If one of his cousins, aunts, or uncles wanted to talk to him, they’d find him.
He studied the plush grass and mentally calculated the last time he serviced Travis’s truck. Last month. He swung his gaze across the yard to the large silver Quonset that housed one of their combines. Yep. That one was up-to-date, too.
Scuffing his boot into the grass, he let out a slow exhale.
“You look like I kicked your dog.” Cash held up a beer and Brock’s gaze landed on it and drifted away. Cash wiggled the bottle. “Want a cold one?”
“No, thanks.” He caught himself before he said he didn’t have a dog. Cash knew that, he must’ve meant something else.
“What’s wrong?”
Brock rubbed the back of his neck, adjusted his hat, then settled with his hands on his hips. “Josie went home today.”
“And you miss her.”
Brock nodded.
Cash’s gaze burned into him. Laughter carried across the yard and Travis’s younger brother waved at them.
Brock lifted a hand and dropped it.
“Hey, can you come with me and take a look at the fencing around the barn?”
“Is something wrong?” Brock often helped fix fences, but this was Travis’s property. Why would Cash ask him?
“Maybe, let’s just head down there.”
They wandered down the gravel path that led around the barn to the fenced in pasture.
“About Josie…” Cash hesitated. They reached the gate to the pasture, but Cash didn’t point out any fencing problems.
Brock’s jaw clenched. “I know you don’t like her.”
“I’m not saying I hate her, I just don’t trust her.” Cash took a swig of his beer.
“You don’t have to trust her or like her,” Brock responded, “but you have to respect her.”
“You two are official? Have you met her parents? Seen her place? How do you know she doesn’t have someone stashed away in Waite Park?”
“Yes, we’re official. Her mom passed away and it’s just her dad and her brother. I haven’t seen her place, just her car. She might have someone stashed away, but I trust her.”
Cash stared at him, his expression hard. “You and women don’t have a good track record.”
“Not because they haven’t been trustworthy.” At least that issue had never been his problem.