Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Having an uncle, brother-in-law, and stepfather all in law enforcement gave Betsy good insights on when what you saw wasn’t exactly all there was to see. She was beginning to wonder what all she hadn’t picked up on when all three of them had vouched for Cain. Even Officer Kennett.
“I get the feeling there are things about this stakeout that I don’t know.
” She tensed as they turned into Peyton’s lot.
Police cruisers with silent flashing lights guarded the entrances.
A couple more were parked among the vehicle inventory.
Even a reporter from the local newspaper had taken up a spot at the edge of the lot.
“We gave you the overview of the setup. But some of the specific details are confidential.” Cain scowled. “You see, part of my job is to watch out for you. Especially while you are anywhere in the vicinity of Peyton’s.”
She blew out a slow sigh through her rounded lips. Maybe she should have just stayed in California…or St. Louis. “I’ve seen you leave before me.”
Cain pulled to a stop in front of the display room and office center, then shifted in his seat. “I may leave, but I stay within sight of the back door. And I follow your car all the way home, or to wherever you stop and go in.”
Suddenly she realized her mouth had dropped open and her brain was sparking on nervous disbelief. As if on automatic, she pointed her finger in his direction. “No. I’ve never seen you anywhere behind me. Never.”
The corner of his mouth quirked upward in a more than cocky smirk. “What can I say? I’m good.”
“That’s going to stop right now.”
His expression snapped into a hard set of his jaw.
A narrowing of his eyes. And as the angles hardened even more, he leaned ever so slightly in her direction as he shook his head.
“No, Betsy, it’s not.” The tone of his voice was edged with concern and determination.
“Even if you decide to pull out of this operation, I’m still going to keep you on my radar. ”
Nothing about any of this sat right with her.
She’s worked hard to become a trustworthy, professional and knowledgeable automotive dealer.
She’s worked hard to keep the promise she’d made her dad to always take care of her mama and sisters.
She’d worked hard to protect herself including defensive skills to surveillance training, plus security systems guarded her home and Peyton’s.
Her shell of invincibility had taken hold in her world. She liked it that way. Yet in less than a minute, that confidence of being indestructible had shattered. Shattered in more ways than she’d ever imagined possible. Being vulnerable didn’t feel right.
“Cain, I don’t want to be anybody’s responsibility. Not now. Not ever.”
“I understand, but somebody was able to get awfully close to you. Might have even sat in your chair. Means the ante has increased. That’s not something any of us wants to happen.”
“Anything else?”
“First, let’s see how tonight’s investigation turns out.” He shot her a glance that flashed somewhere between hope that satisfies you and damn it, I’m screwed. “We’ve known one of the higher-ups usually drives a gold Honda Accord. Thankfully that’s not who you saw today.”
A chill whispered through her body. A cold that wasn’t the January weather. “Not today. But I’ve seen it before.”
Cain opened the driver’s side door and jumped out, then stomped toward Deputy Evans at the corner of the building. “We’ve got a bigger problem.”
“You look like a man escaping the hell hath no fury,” Evans mumbled.
Shaking his head, Cain stared into the night.
Betsy walked up beside them. “I heard that remark.”
“Nice to see you, too.” Deputy Evans looked like he always did—meticulous, tired, and serious. “Now what all have we got?”
She shook her head. Why didn’t anyone see the problem with this scenario? Was she the only one thinking? Betsy hated when people tried to put one over on her. “Am I or am I not the owner of this car lot?”
“Yes, you are,” Evans said.
“So wouldn’t it have been wise to let me in on all the particulars of the stakeout?
” She paced a five-foot line back and forth, back and forth in front of the deputy.
Wait till she called JB. He might be in St. Louis with Marcy and the others right now, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t get an earful just the same.
“Did it ever occur to you that I’ve had self-defense classes?
That I know how to spot what doesn’t belong? ”
Her insides jumbled with all the times watching, hiding, running had saved her. Half the town knew what had happened to her.
“I could have been on the lookout. Told you anything out of the ordinary.” Her voice hitched, even with control. “Left work when everyone else left.”
“All that might sound good on the surface, but it can also make you react differently.” Cain leaned against the front fender of his truck. “Right now, we can’t even be sure who’s on the right side of the law. I always keep that in mind when I start a case.”
“Like surveilling me?”
“Like surveilling you.”
“Are you implying I can’t be trusted?” She stopped, turned to face him head on.
“As you so eloquently said the other night, I haven’t been back in town for very long. So I’m still getting my footing on who’s who now.” He stared without flinching. “But understand, part of my job is keeping you safe. That’s one of the reasons I’m there.”
All those nights she thought he’d been working up his nerve to ask her out for dinner or a drink or a ride on his bike, he’d only been doing his job.
Her lips dried with the jerk of her stomach and the grab of her heart.
Only his job. Her shoulders slumped. Immediately, a don’t-let-him-see reaction caused her to straighten.
Regaining her composure, she lifted her chin. “Well, you weren’t there tonight, now, were you?”
“No, I wasn’t.” Cain’s tone narrowed to almost a growl. “But you weren’t due back in town till tomorrow.”
“Admit it.” She poked her finger in his chest. “You didn’t do your job. You messed up and I could have been—”
He folded his hand around her finger and held it. He leaned toward her as he stared into her eyes. “Calm down, Betsy. I’ve got you.”
The two of them glared at each other, and when he gave an exaggerated sigh, she shot him one right back. Time he got a bit of his own medicine tossed right back at him.
She leaned into Cain’s space. “That doesn’t alter the fact you messed up and I could have been—”
Evans stepped between the pair. “Let’s get on with this. I just pulled in a few seconds before you arrived. Give me a minute to check my people’s status.”
So much for grumbling. This fiasco would scare customers away or make for a boom in nosy lookers. She didn’t care either way. She just wanted to go home. First thing tomorrow morning she planned to fire Cain Connery.
No need to fight the inevitable. They were the law, and she was the niece of the sheriff. As such, she should make her uncle proud. Be compliant. Make a good, clear report. And stay out of the way.
Officer Kennett walked up. Whispered in Evans’ ear. Deputy Evans swiftly headed around the side of the building with Kennett close behind. Guns drawn. Cain and she followed, but the deputy paused and looked back.
“Betsy, you and Cain stay here for the time being.” Evans raised his eyebrows at her. “In fact, Cain, you make sure she stays here. And find some cover just in case there are any problems. Understood?”
Cain nodded, then motioned her behind him at the side of his truck as the other two disappeared further into the dealership’s property, heading toward the service center.
After tossing his jacket on the seat of his truck, he unsnapped his holster and slid the gun out.
She watched as he crouched into the flat-footed shooter’s stance, double handing the gun.
The veins on his forearms pulsed with each heartbeat as he steeled to a wall of concentration.
She stooped behind him, suddenly wishing she were any place besides here.
Any place besides in the middle of a possible shoot-out.
Whether she liked the idea or not, Cain was her guard and defender for the moment.
Didn’t mean she couldn’t fire him from working at her dealership.
Of course, her uncle would have the final say on whether Cain stayed in play undercover or not.
“Mr. Connery, you are no longer an employee of Peyton’s.” That made her feel better. “Please leave your forwarding address at the front desk tomorrow, so your final check can be mailed to you.”
“Fine with me.” He didn’t move. “Now hush. This isn’t a game, Betsy. The man who drives the gold Honda Accord has killed five people. Two of them women. Now stay down and be quiet. Just because you didn’t see his car today, doesn’t mean he isn’t here.”
Okay, she might not have been scared before, but that information ramped her adrenalin up a few more notches. She inched closer to his side, leaning just enough to make contact with him. The muscle in his leg flinched but reset and pressed against her as if he knew she needed assurance.
“Betsy.” Patrolman Kennett rounded the corner of the building. “Deputy Evans needs you at the service center.”
She pushed past Cain as he holstered his gun, and the two of them crossed the lot in a few fast strides.
Kennett went to join the huddle of policemen congregated around the same car she’d driven past on her way out earlier.
One of the cops pointed at the line of cars parked on the pavement behind the car, then further down the service center customer pull-in lane.
On the other side of the service center entrance, Deputy Evans stood beneath one of the bright overhead lights, his face a map of concentration.
“What’s wrong?” Betsy asked as she neared Evans and realized the deputy had on his clenched jaw, narrowed eyes expression. The one that meant business. All business. Seemed to be a lot of that happening tonight.
“Earlier, you said you waved at a customer...” —Evans flipped a couple pages in his small spiral notebook — “...you referred to him as a lookie-loo— sitting in a blue sedan.”
“Yes. I called him that because he was here so often looking at cars. Months ago, he told me he couldn’t afford one, but just enjoyed stopping on his way home from work to look around.”
Evans scribbled on the page. “Did you happen to notice if the passenger side window was shattered?”
“No. I wasn’t on that side of the car when I drove pass.”
“Anything else seem out of line with him? With the car?”
“No. Just the fact he didn’t acknowledge me at all when I waved.” Betsy tried to remember anything that might help. “Why?”
“What time would that have been?” he asked.
Time? She had no idea what time it was even now. “Maybe—”
“Evans!” Kennett shouted as he straight-arm waved from the other end of the lot, then pointed at a dumpster.
“Wait here.” The deputy hurriedly walked in that direction, pausing only long enough to point other patrolmen toward the customer’s car.
She scanned the inventory again, then looked at Cain’s questioning profile. “I wonder what’s going on down there?” she asked.
“Don’t know. Probably just need to piece together what happened to that car.”
He hadn’t blinked. Hadn’t thought about it. Hadn’t faltered one bit. Yet she noticed something about his stance had tensed. A second later his phone rang. “Yeah?”
Another second later, he jerked his head up as he turned in the direction of Deputy Evans and Kennett. Shoving the phone in his pocket, he ran in the same direction. “Stay where you are, Betsy.”
“What’s wrong? Did they find something?” She ran behind him.
“Go back. I told you to stay there.”
She kept pace with him. “Why?”
“We’ve got a dead body in the dumpster.”
Never flinching. Never slowing. She processed the information like a true lawman’s relative. Faced the statement and its implications head on. Her car lot had just become a crime scene, yet she’d kept her emotions intact.
Cain reached the container and hoisted himself to a straight-arm brace on the rim. Too short to see anything but the top part of the trash bin, Betsy dragged a ready-for-recycle tire over next to Cain. She stepped on top and peered into the dumpster.
A chill ravaged her body, and this time she gagged. Could this night get any worse? Hell no. Well maybe. Oh, hell yes. Nighttime could always get worse. Bad things happened to people at night. She knew that for a fact.
Shaking her head, she steadied herself against the metal of the dumpster. “That…that’s him.”
“Who?” Cain asked.
“The customer. Someone’s killed my creepy lookie-loo customer.”