Chapter 31
cade
When I saw the dog and the note, my blood boiled so hot it’s a wonder the asphalt didn’t melt under my boots.
The whole damn town already knows. That’s the way of Wildflower Canyon—news spreads faster than wildfire, whether it’s a calf born breech or a body in somebody’s truck bed.
The good news is that Joy came running as well. She took Sarah to her boutique so that I could deal with Hugh.
His cruiser pulls up, lights flashing, siren wailing just once before he kills it. He steps out, looking weary.
“You got me on speed dial, Mercer?” Hugh drawls.
“Yeah, it’s my dream to be callin’ the sheriff every fuckin’ day.” I jerk my chin toward Sarah’s truck, and we amble over.
I don’t bother to warn him about what he’s about to see, so it’s no surprise when he lets loose, scorching the air with swears.
I’ve been a rancher all my life—I’ve heard it all—but Hugh is downright inventive with his use of the word fuck. Gotta give him that.
“It’s probably roadkill,” I offer.
“Don’t make it better.” He narrows his eyes on the note. “Who wants Dr. K to shut up?”
“That’s something she’ll have to tell you.”
He arches an eyebrow.
I shrug. No way am I going to break Sarah’s trust. It’s her call how much she wants to reveal to Hugh, and considering how she was treated by his people the last time a crime was committed against her, I wouldn’t blame her if she tells him to go fuck himself.
He nods once and opens the passenger door of the truck. The smell of rotting animal hits both of us. He takes some pictures with his phone.
“Somebody wanted to scare the hell outta her,” he remarks as he closes the truck door.
“It’s working. She’s fuckin’ scared.” And I am angry as hell.
Hugh makes a call. “Yeah, outside Buck’s.
I sent you pictures.” Pause. “Get a tow truck and get this to the county lab so they can dust and fingerprint and deal with the body.” He chuckles softly.
“Not human, it’s a dog.” I hear cursing from the other end of the line. “Probably roadkill, according to Cade.”
He hangs up and turns to me. “Wiley will be here soon. I need to talk to her.”
Wiley Buchanan is Hugh’s deputy and a far cry from the previous asshole who screwed Sarah over. Wiley is young, ethical. I like him.
“She’s with Joy.”
“Lock the truck,” he instructs me.
Since I had taken the keys from Sarah, I pressed the lock button and walked side by side with Hugh to Bringing You Joy.
“You think this is connected to what’s goin’ on at Blue Rock?” Hugh muses aloud.
“I don’t know.”
I’ve been thinking about it as well. Coincidences are bullshit. I had wondered and dismissed whether Landon could be trying to get me to sell the ranch by killing Thunder. Now, I’m fairly convinced that he’s involved. Also, there’s only one person who has reason to leave that note for Sarah.
I’m certain Landon knows that Sarah is talking to Marnie Evans. He’s got connections, and since Marnie is talking to other victims—fuckin’ hell, my brother is such a douche bag that there are other women he has hurt—he might’ve gotten wind of it.
Joy has the “closed” sign turned out, but when I try the door, it opens.
Sarah is pacing. It surprises me. I thought she’d be curled up in a ball. She whirls when she sees me.
“You know, I think this is connected with what’s goin’ on at Blue Rock,” she blurts out. “You know what that means.”
I smile despite the situation. Her passion, her strength…fuck, but I’ve missed her so fuckin’ much.
Hugh takes his hat off. “Dr. Kirk.”
Sarah glances at Hugh. “Sheriff.”
Joy stands next to Sarah, subtle as a chainsaw that she’s there to protect her friend. How had I not seen how people gravitate toward Sarah, believe her, trust her—people who don’t even know her? And I, who did know her, failed her the most viscerally.
Self-loathing is something I live with now, and it crawls through me. I recently read some scientific studies on the trauma of rape, so I’ll be careful about what I say to Sarah and how I say it. It was an eye-opening endeavor.
What’s worse than rape?
Betrayal.
When you don’t believe a rape survivor, you question her; you rape her again and again.
“Joy.” Hugh looks at Sarah. “Can we talk here, or would you like to go to the station?”
“Here,” I bark at the same time as Joy.
Hugh looks at us, amused, and then focuses on Sarah. “What would you prefer, Dr. Kirk?”
“Here is fine.” Her eyes aren’t glassy anymore. They’re clear, and her voice is confident again. There is no sign of the woman who cracked when she saw the brutalized dog.
Joy has a seating area by the dressing rooms, and we settle there. She gets us green bottles of some sparkling water. I don’t open mine, but I twist open Sarah’s and hand it to her.
She drinks half the bottle and then wipes her lips with the back of her hand.
“So…do you think this is connected to Thunder?” Sarah demands.
Yeah, the vulnerable woman who was shaking in my arms is long gone. This one can hold her ground.
Hugh meets my eyes and then turns back to Sarah. “Feels connected. Somebody’s targetin’ both of you.”
Sarah’s eyes narrow with irritation. “Damn it.”
Hugh studies her for a moment and then asks, in a low voice, “Can you tell me why someone wants you to shut up, Dr. Kirk?”
Sarah stiffens for an instant and then releases a long breath. She gives me a pointed look. I can hear her question: If I tell him, Cade, it’s going to be out in the world.
“Tell him,” I urge. “Someone’s tryin’ to silence you, Sarah, and that ain’t okay.”
Joy rises. “I have some inventory to look through. Sarah, darling, you holler if you need me.”
With that, she leaves, giving us privacy.
Sarah folds her arms and then lets out a groan. “I fucking hate this.”
She doesn’t swear often, so I know she’s doubly frustrated right now.
“It is pretty hateful,” Hugh agrees.
“Ten years ago…do you know what happened?” Her voice is a hushed whisper. As strong as she is, that still affects her, probably will for the rest of her life.
I pull my chair close to her and take her hand in mine.
She looks at me, surprised, and then a small smile spreads on her lips. I’m relieved she doesn’t push me away; instead, she allows me to support her. It’s a gift, one I’m going to cherish.
Hugh doesn’t remark, just patiently waits as he pulls out his small notepad and pen.
“What I say…will that go on the official record?” she asks.
Hugh looks perplexed. “Do you not want it to?”
“I do want it to,” she assures me. “It’s just…last time....”
The corners of Hugh’s mouth dipped almost imperceptibly. “I know what happened all those years ago. I wasn’t here; if I were, Dr. Kirk, things would’ve been different.”
“You sure about that?” she challenges.
“Yes.”
She turns to me. “Can I trust him?”
I swallow. “Yes.”
The sound that leaves her is closer to a scoff than a laugh. “Why am I asking you?” She pulls her hand away jerkily. “I don’t even trust you.”
That cuts, but I deserve it.
She shakes her head and shoots me an irritated glance. I don’t blame her. It’s a pretty fucked up clusterfuck.
“Fine.” She throws her hands up in the air like she’s giving up. “Ten years ago, Landon Mercer raped me and then told everyone that I asked for it, that it was consensual. It was not.”
Hugh doesn’t react, just watches her intently. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, Sarah.”
It doesn’t escape my notice that he calls her Sarah this time when he usually and always addresses her as Dr. Kirk.
“Thank you,” she says, and I know she means it. “My father left me his practice and house and...a letter.”
I frown. She hasn’t mentioned a letter to me.
“In it…well, he said that he knew I was telling the truth, and he was sorry. But he didn’t tell me how he knew.” She sits up straight. “I came back to, well, claim my inheritance, but to also find out how Daddy knew the truth. Because I intend to expose Landon.”
She is deliberately not looking at me. Despite my telling her countless times that I’m with her on this journey, she doesn’t believe me.
I take her hand in mine again and hold it tight. “Dove, you tell the world, and I’ll be right there with you.”
She looks away, jaw tight like she’s holding it together.
Hugh’s eyes go from me to Sarah and back. His gaze carries a wealth of regret.
“A reporter from The Washington Herald contacted me.” She pauses as if gathering herself. She squeezes my hand like she needs the comfort. “She told me that there are other victims, and she suspects I was the first. He…tends to go for eighteen-nineteen-year-olds…who are similar in looks to me.”
These are details I don’t have. I have to hold myself together because I feel like collapsing, folding my body to keep the pain contained.
“Apparently, Landon has a type,” she sneers.
Hugh lifts a shoulder casually. “Most men do,” he deadpans.
That eases some of the tension in the room.
“According to the reporter, she has several women who have told their stories…there are…well, Landon tends to pay these women off and have them sign NDAs.” She chuckles softly. “They get money and contracts. I get a dead dog and a note.”
“So, you think this is a warning to stop you from speakin’ to this reporter?” Hugh asks.
I blister at the question. “Don’t you?”
Sarah is surprised—and that hurts because she doesn’t believe I’m with her on this crusade of justice.
The man I used to be—or rather, the boy I used to be was someone she trusted.
Not anymore. I ruined that. Destroyed who I used to be for Sarah, and that is one of my biggest regrets—along with taking away the sense of safety she once had with me.
“I do,” he says emphatically. “But I’d like to know what Dr. Kirk thinks.”
“I agree with you, Sheriff.”
“Dr. Kirk, I need you to take care of yourself,” Hugh says somberly.
“I always do,” she snaps.
“Dove, you can’t be alone at your place. It’s far away from everywhere and…fuck, it’s too damn easy to get to you there.”
She gives me a withering look. “I’m not going to be driven out of my home…again.”
“Dove—”