Chapter Twelve #2

about James being in her heart. The basic truth of the sentiment

helped to ease Delaney’s grief. It made her feel like James was

close by, but just out of sight.

Antonia always gave Delaney’s spirits

a boost. Clara had given her love and support in the way she could,

but it was Antonia who had added the warmth Delaney had missed

growing up.

“You’re looking for

trouble. You won’t like it when you find it. Or maybe it’ll find

you.”

Delaney nearly jumped out of her skin.

Her mind had been on her conversation with Antonia and she hadn’t

noticed the gaunt man with weathered features standing around the

corner in the shadowed walkway. He leaned against the building, his

arms crossed over his chest. He had gray hair cut military-close to

his head, and glared at her from under bushy brows. She thought his

sharp gray eyes looked familiar, but she couldn’t place

him.

Delaney took a step back. “What are

you talking about? I don’t know you.”

“You should know me. I

heard you talking to that hippie woman. You need to mind your own

business and butt out of what’s of no concern to you.”

“Move along,

Grafton.”

Delaney gave her second startled jolt

in less than a minute. Walker seemed to have materialized out of

nowhere to stand behind her. He gripped her elbow and pulled her

closer to his side. The old man was Neil Grafton? She should’ve

remembered the coldness in the former sheriff’s eyes.

“Protecting your fucking

whore, McGrath?”

Delaney sucked in an enraged breath as

Grafton straightened so he was no longer leaning against the

building. She’d seen his photo in the paper when a scandal had

caused him to lose his position several years ago, and time had

only hardened his features. But though he’d aged, he still appeared

to possess the same wiry strength he’d always had.

His gaze traveled over her and snagged

on her breasts, his lips splitting into a leering smile. “Guess I

wouldn’t mind getting a piece of that myself.”

When she would have surged forward,

Walker’s grip tightened and he tugged her back until she bumped

against him. His chest was a solid wall of muscle.

The ugliness Grafton spewed twisted

her stomach into knots and set her temper boiling. She thought it

might be doing something similar to Walker. His body grew rigid and

the air around them grew so tense she wouldn’t’ve been surprised if

a bolt of lightning were to spear out of the sky to land at their

feet.

“Watch your mouth,

Grafton, or I’ll be helping you with that,” Walker

growled.

Grafton sneered. “Guess I was right.

She is your whore. Just like her grandmother was a fucking whore

for James McGrath. Figure you all keep it in the family. It’s a

little incestuous, if you ask me.”

Delaney saw red, the deep scarlet red

of anger, and lunged forward.

She wasn’t sure what she’d do—hit him,

kick him, knee him in the balls like she’d done to Vance—but Walker

wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her firmly against him,

well out of range of the disgraced sheriff.

When Grafton smirked, she twisted

against Walker’s hold. “Dammit, let me go. He’s got no right to say

that about James and my grandmother. I’ll punch him in the throat.”

That seemed like a solid plan.

“Pull it back, Laney. If

anyone needs to punch the sorry bastard, it’ll be me.”

Grafton apparently had more bravado

than sense because he continued in a goading tone, “Is that what

you’re going to do, asshole? Punch an old man? It’s what you want

to do. Go for it. Take a swing.”

His taunting words had her fury

clearing enough for reason to set in. Punching Grafton would be bad

for Walker. He’d just come back to town and didn’t need to revive

his reputation as a hothead.

No longer trying to break his hold,

she grabbed onto the arm still wrapped around her waist, his corded

muscles tense under her fingers. “Don’t, Walker. Don’t hit him.

That’s what he wants so you’ll get in trouble. He’s not worth

it.”

“Don’t hit him, Walker,”

Neil Grafton mimicked her in a singsong voice. “Fucking ex-con. Go

ahead and try it. Beat the shit out of me if you think you can.

Maybe it’ll get you a ticket back to prison, and you’ll be back in

a cage built for animals like you.” He glanced past them and

muttered, “Well, isn’t this rich. The Boy Scout of the family has

shown up.”

Delaney twisted to peer around

Walker’s wide shoulder and spotted a sheriff’s department SUV

parked in a space on the street in front of Retro Days. Relief

flooded through her when she saw Sawyer striding toward

them.

Mirrored sunglasses shielded his eyes

and he wore an El Dorado Sheriff’s Department ball cap pulled low

over his forehead. Delaney didn’t know how Sawyer had spotted them,

but she thanked her lucky stars he had.

He made a beeline for the trio

crowding the mouth of the walkway. “Delaney, Walker, good to see

you.” He nodded at the older man. “Grafton.”

Grafton’s gaze traveled over Sawyer.

“Guess anyone can make lieutenant these days.”

Sawyer ignored the comment. “Any

trouble here?”

Grafton spat on the sidewalk and

sneered. “Nothing you need to stick your nose in. You two were a

couple of punk kids back in the day, and now the Boy Scout thinks

he’s in charge. I have a message for all of you: mind your own

business if you don’t want to get hurt. None of you has a clue

what’s going on in this town.”

“You making a threat,

Neil?”

“Show some respect,”

Grafton snarled the words. “I was sheriff and your commanding

officer. You call me sir.”

Walker barked out a humorless laugh.

“You’re delusional, man.”

“You’ve lost whatever

respect you think you had a long time ago.” Sawyer’s voice was

controlled, but Delaney felt an undercurrent of anger vibrating

with the words. “You were in charge when my brother was arrested

for a sexual assault he didn’t commit. You railroaded him and you

know it. It’s never been confirmed how the supposed

mix-up happened to put Walker’s name on

the positive DNA match. You want to explain that?”

“Fuck off.” Grafton spat

again on the sidewalk again, barely missing Sawyer’s shoes. “I

never would’ve allowed you in my department if I’d known you were a

spineless shit.”

Walker’s steel-corded muscles coiled

even tighter under Delaney’s fingers. Before Walker had been

holding her back, now she made sure she had a firm grip on his

arm.

Ranging himself beside them, Sawyer’s

jaw was set, his hand resting on his service weapon. His expression

clearly read “don’t fuck with me.”

Grafton must’ve felt the threat from

both men because even as he blustered, he was backing

away.

Delaney thought his actions showed at

least some sense of self-preservation. Nobody in their right mind

would tangle with the McGrath brothers.

Grafton scuttled like a crab and

reached the end of the walkway. He raised both hands to give them

the double bird before disappearing around the corner.

“I wouldn’t put it past

that bastard to have put my name on the DNA match.”

Walker’s anger was justifiable. If he

was right, then Grafton was responsible for him spending more than

two years of his life behind bars.

Delaney released her grip on his arm

when she realized Walker was still holding her firmly against him,

his chest warm against her back. She tried to ease away but his arm

wouldn’t budge. “Walker, you can let me go now.”

“Right.”

Slowly, he dropped his arm and she

stepped away, but not before catching the glint of amusement in

Sawyer’s steady gray eyes. “I don’t know. You two looked adorable

cuddled up like that.”

“Fuck you,” Walker said

mildly.

Delaney was doing her best to focus on

anything other than the sensations still zinging through her body.

Her brain was still scrambled from how warm and protected she’d

felt when Walker had pulled her back against him.

And sinful.

His hard body at her back, his sinewy

arm holding her against him, then his voice behind her all deep and

rumbly. The warmth of his breath against her ear had made her

shiver. It’d taken every ounce of resolve to move away from all

that hotness, and at the moment she was having a hard time shutting

down the need curling through her body.

“Is that any way to talk

to your brother who kept you from beating up an old man?” Sawyer

held up a hand to forestall what would no doubt be another pithy

response from Walker. “But about Grafton, I’m with you. If it

wasn’t him who put your name on that DNA sample, at minimum, he

knows who did. He was sheriff, and it happened on his watch. He

also pressured the DA to go for maximum charges against

you.”

“I plan to prove Grafton’s

involvement.”

Sawyer assessed his brother with quiet

eyes. The resolute determination on Walker’s face sent a different

kind of shiver down Delaney’s spine. She wouldn’t like being on the

receiving end of all that bottled rage when he figured out who had

set him up.

Sawyer nodded. “I’m with you on that,

brother.” Sawyer nodded at Delaney, the corner of his mouth turning

up in a half grin. “Did you recognize Grafton?”

She shook her head. “I thought he

looked familiar but couldn’t place him. Not that I’d ever met him

in person. He looks like he’s been in the sun too long.”

“He’s living in a cabin up

by Bridger Lake. Comes to town every couple weeks, but until today,

he’s been keeping a low profile.”

“I read in the paper when

he was forced to resign, but I never heard anything about him after

that. That had to be four or five years ago.”

“Why was he forced to

resign?” Walker asked.

“He mismanaged the

sheriff’s department, and when it eventually came to light, he lost

his job and holed up in that cabin. No one saw him for months. I

don’t know if that was because he was ashamed or pissed. More

likely the latter. It’s been four years since it

happened.”

“Does he have family? A

wife and kids?” she asked.

“As far as I know, he

never married.”

Walker frowned. “Wait a minute, wasn’t

he related to Jerod Fetterly?”

“Yeah, Fetterly was his

sister’s son. The sister was a single mom and died of an overdose

when Jerod was a teenager. Grafton took him in.”

“Fetterly was a fucking

bully,” Walker muttered.

“He always had it out for

us,” Sawyer agreed. “Seemed like we couldn’t drive anywhere without

him pulling over one or the other of us just to be a

dick.”

“Wasn’t he the officer who

arrested you after that fight with Vance Norris?” Delaney asked

Walker, tilting her head as she tried to recall the details. “When

Vance and those two other guys jumped you?”

Walker nodded. “Yeah, they thought

they’d beat the crap out of me. That’s when I knocked Vance’s teeth

out. I think Fetterly set that up.”

“Set up the fight? What

makes you think that?” Sawyer interjected.

“When Fetterly showed up,

Norris said something about him taking long enough. I don’t think

anyone had called the fight into dispatch, but Fetterly knew it was

happening. He was looking for a reason to arrest me. You said

before he was dead. What happened to him?”

“After your trial, it came

out he’d been coercing women to have sex with him in his patrol

car.” Sawyer’s jaw tightened before he went on. “The fucker was

threatening them. Told the women if they didn’t do what he wanted,

he’d take them in on prostitution charges. Seems he was pretty good

at finding women who were vulnerable and going through a tough

time.”

Delaney considered what he’d said.

“I’d heard about that, but I don’t remember the case going to

trial.”

“He didn’t,” Sawyer said.

“Every one of those women recanted.”

“Someone got to them,”

Walker stated.

“I’m not arguing with you.

Upshot? Fetterly kept his job and probably kept doing the same

shit.”

“How’d he end up dead?”

Walker asked.

Sawyer filled in the gaps. “At the

time, Grafton’s leadership was imploding and citizen complaints of

excessive use of force and abuse of authority against Fetterly were

uncovered. Grafton had made sure those claims never saw the light

of day. Once the corruption started catching up to him, Grafton

gave Fetterly the choice of retiring and keeping his benefits or

going through the disciplinary process, which might not’ve gone

well for him. He chose the former.”

“That’s fucking corrupt,

but it doesn’t explain him being dead.”

Delaney looked up as the first drops

of rain began falling.

“Getting to it,” Sawyer

told his brother. “Fetterly was facing a civil lawsuit and negative

reports were popping up in the newspaper. About that time, he went

dispersed camping in the back country of Yosemite where a heavy

thunderstorm brought a flash flood through a canyon. The remnants

of his camp were discovered washed down the river, his tent was

downstream tangled in tree roots. His truck was parked at the

trailhead and there was no sign of him. It’s assumed he

drowned.”

“Was his body

recovered?”

“No.”

“You buying that?” Walker

asked. “Seems too convenient.”

“I’ll admit I was

skeptical. But it’s been several years and he hasn’t been seen in

all that time. The farther we get from when it happened, the less

likely he’s alive.”

The fresh scent of rain permeated the

air as fat drops spattered the walkway.

The radio hanging over Sawyer’s

shoulder buzzed. He listened for a moment, then nodded to her and

Walker. “Gotta go. You kids stay out of trouble.”

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