Connecting Strangers (Discovering Emily) (22 page)

“Then why isn’t he wearing the sling?” The second I call out the question from my cell, I know I should have remained silent. All eyes are now on me, and both Ike and Abernathy will want an explanation.

But it’s Adam I’m more concerned about. The look on his face says more than any words could. He knows I’ve lied to him. And while I see anger in his eyes, there’s more. Something deeper I don’t have time to define.

“What are you talking about? My boy’s been wearing that sling ever since you used him for target practice.” Ike tries to advance, but Adam blocks his path. “Boy, if you won’t want trouble, you’d better do yourself a favor and get the hell out of my way.”

Adam smiles. “I don’t mind a little trouble now and then. It helps keep me sharp.”

“Now, now,” Abernathy intervenes with a chuckle, “let’s keep this friendly. No need to get ourselves worked up into a lather. Miss Jacobs, you want to explain your allegation that Mr. Metzger wasn’t wearing his sling?”

I consider the question then slowly shake my head. “No, I don’t.”

“Because she’s lying! My boy’s been suffering.” Ike’s meaty finger jabs into Adam’s chest. “And I don’t give a damn who you are, but you ain’t standing in the way of justice. No one can save her now.”

Adam wraps his hand around Ike’s thick wrist and forcibly lowers it. “Assaulting a police officer is a crime in any county, Metzger.”

Shrinking back like he’s been smacked, Ike curls his hand against his chest. “It wasn’t an assault. I was trying to make a point.”

“All right. All right.” Sheriff Abernathy holds his hands up in the air. “I’ve had about enough of this. Everyone out.” When Adam doesn’t move, the sheriff squares his shoulders. “I know you’re law enforcement yourself, Sheriff Madison, so I’m sure you’ll understand that sometimes we need to clear the station to regroup. I’ll let you know when you can come back in, but you won’t be able to communicate with Miss Jacobs.”

“I do understand, Sheriff. I mainly want to be here to keep an eye on her, make sure nothing happens to her.” He steps back to give Ike a wide berth. “It’s not like she’s got a lot of friends in this town.”

White hair standing on end, Ike shoves his way past Adam. “Can’t blame us for not taking too kindly to criminals.” He looks back over his shoulder at the door, his cold gaze settling on my face for a long second. “I’ll see you at the trial, Emily.”

I wait for the shiver of fear to creep down my spine like it usually does in his presence. Ike Metzger has always intimidated me. But the feeling doesn’t come this time. Maybe it’s because Adam is in between the mighty sultan of Broomtown and me. For now, Ike can’t harm me.

Just as Adam opens the door to leave, Harry McAllister strides in, clutching the same sturdy briefcase he brought to Juniper Springs’ jail. His polished black shoes leave scuff marks on the floor that no one seems to notice but me. He extends a card toward Sheriff Abernathy.

“I’m representing Emily Jacobs, and I’d like a word alone with her.”

For a small guy, he exudes authority, and Abernathy doesn’t question it. He unlocks my cell and allows Mr. McAllister entrance. “You’ve got fifteen minutes.”

My lawyer chuckles. “I have as much time as I need to prepare my client for this hearing, Sheriff. There are no visitor limitation for attorneys and their clients. Even you should know that.”

Abernathy mumbles something below his breath and locks us both in the cell. “Holler when you’re done.”

I notice Adam has taken the opportunity to remain inside, positioning himself by the door. When his gaze meets mine, I see his determination. He’s not leaving me alone in here even if it is with my lawyer.

As Abernathy ambles off, Mr. McAllister takes a seat on the cot and immediately grimaces. “The accommodations are certainly less than adequate, aren’t they?” When I don’t answer, he beckons me to join him. “Now, let’s go over what’s going to happen in the court room.” He lowers his voice so that I only I can hear. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I have it on good authority, the judge is going to assign bail.”

“How can you know that?” I give him a suspicious look, hoping my attorney isn’t on the take.

He pats my hand. “Let’s just say this judge isn’t as big of a fan of the Metzgers as they think he is.”

“Information you found out on the way in?”

A smile crosses his face. “Just practice your surprised face, my dear.”

The conversation doesn’t last long before the sheriff returns to my cell with keys jingling. “You’re being called early. Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

Mr. McAllister huffs and puffs around me, his eyes zeroing in on Abernathy’s face. “Is that really necessary?”

“It’s procedure.” He unlocks the door just as the glass door to the station bangs against the wall. All of us turn, and my heart tumbles. Mark is standing face to face with Adam, his chin jutting forward.

“Mark, what in the hell are you doing in here? You know you’re not allowed.” Abernathy whirls around. “Get on out of here.”

“I can’t do that, Sheriff. I’ve come to drop the charges.”

Everyone in the room stares at one another. I’m not quite certain I’m hearing correctly. And I’m wondering if Mark has some kind of alternate plan to make my life miserable.

“What are you talking about, boy? Where’s your daddy?” Abernathy exits the cell but doesn’t lock it behind him.

“This doesn’t involve him. I want to drop the charges against Emily. She didn’t try to kill me. It was an accident. I know you’ve got some paperwork to do, but see that she gets released as soon as possible.” He doesn’t look at me so I can’t read his expression to know what he’s up to.

Has he had an attack of conscience? Or is this a ploy to get me out because he’s got something much worse than prison in mind for me? Either way, I’m not sure I want to leave the cell. This just seems too neat to me.

Obviously Adam feels the same for he gets in Mark’s face again. “If it was an accident before, why did you file charges against her?”

“I was pissed off.” Though his shoulders slump slightly, I’m not buying his demeanor for a second. “That’s the way I get sometimes.”

“Mark, you need to think about this.” Sheriff Abernathy takes him by the arm and tries to lead him away, but Mark isn’t going.

“No, Sheriff. I’ve made up my mind. I want Emily released so she can go home, wherever that is now.” When his voice trails off, Adam and I trade glances. Something is definitely amiss.

“Have you talked to Ike about this?” This comes through gritted teeth.

“I believe we all heard what the man’s saying, Sheriff.” Adam walks around to stand in front of Abernathy. “It doesn’t sound like further clarification is needed.”

The sheriff’s eyes narrow to tiny slits. “I’ll have to contact the prosecuting attorney to get permission to release Emily.”

Adam jerks his head toward the phone. “We’ll be right here.”

Is this really happening? I look at Mark, but he’s not looking back. This has to be a trick. He doesn’t have a contrite bone in his body. Not to mention, Ike would never allow this, and Mark doesn’t make a move without running it by his father first. Even if he did have an attack of conscience, nothing happens in this town that Ike Metzger doesn’t know about or approve. So it’s only a matter of time before he comes barreling in to change his son’s mind.

“Emily, I believe it’s safe for you to leave the cell.” Mr. McAllister sounds jubilant. He places his hand on the small of my back and ushers me out.

“Now hold on just a second. She’s still considered a prisoner until I…” Abernathy breaks off, the phone in his hand. “Yes, I need to speak with Brad Dunston, please.” He points his finger toward the cell, but I ignore it, venturing farther out into the station, closer to Adam.

We’re looking at one another now, and I think he’s feeling the same amount of disbelief I am. If this isn’t real, I don’t want to know. I’m so close to being free from Mark. Really free. I reach out for Adam’s hand, almost ready to believe. Then the light fixture above me explodes, sending shards of glass raining down on my shoulders.

Adam lunges at me, taking me down to the tiled floor so hard my shoulder cracks. He covers my body with his, muffling the pops of metal striking metal. But I can still hear the commotion.

Cries of pain.

Abernathy shouting into the radio for backup.

And the explosions of glass as windows fall prey to bullets.

“We need to get cover,” Adam shouts in my ear. He crouches over me, gripping my hand with his. “Keep low. We’re going to head toward that desk in the corner.”

I’m paralyzed. Barely breathing. But Adam forces me to move with shouts and curses. I scoot across the floor while bullets ping off the bars of what used to be my cell.

Then I’m behind the metal desk Adam’s overturned. My back presses against its coolness, and I take in gulps of air. The shots keep coming, and we’re trapped. I don’t hear Abernathy anymore. I don’t hear anything but the gunfire. I reach for Adam, but he’s moving away from me.

Panicked, I claw at his arm. “What are you doing?” His gun is out, and I stare at it like I’ve never seen one before. “Adam, no! You can’t go out there.”

He removes my hand. “Stay put.” His tone is terse, commanding. He’s going. Because it’s his job. Only not here. I want to remind him of that. He doesn’t work here so he shouldn’t have to risk his life.

By the time my thoughts make sense, Adam has already made it to another desk. Then another. His gaze sweeps the blown out windows then across the floor. I follow his line of sight and see blood.

Before I can move, I hear sirens. More shouting. Return fire. Then nothing. Several long minutes pass in total silence before Adam finally calls my name. He’s up on his feet and walking toward me, more glass breaking beneath his shoes.

I stand, though my legs are shaky. “Is it over?”

He pulls me into a tight embrace. “It’s over.”

“We’ve got two men down.” Willie Sampson’s hysterical on the radio clipped to his shirt. When Adam and I emerge from the corner, he’s standing in the middle of the station, his eyes wide and tears streaming down his face. “Sheriff’s down.”

Gary is on the radio, too, calling for an ambulance. Adam goes to Abernathy, but even I can tell it’s too late. He’s taken a bullet to the head.

Harry McAllister is holding his shoulder when he approaches me, blood dripping through his fingers. “I believe I’ve been shot.” He gives me a quizzical look as though he’s not quite sure if he’s correct.

“You need to sit down.” I quickly usher him to a chair. “Paramedics are on their way.”

“Yes, yes. I suppose they are.” He blinks up at me. “Are you all right, my dear? You have blood on your blouse.”

I look down. “It’s not mine.” It must have come from a spray when a bullet struck its target. The thought makes me ill, but I breathe through my nose to combat the nausea. “You stay here, Mr. McAllister. I need to see if I can help.”

People are standing outside the station. Some crying. Others just staring in open-mouthed horror. Nothing like this has ever happened in Broomtown.

More sirens pelt the air. Ambulances and fire trucks roll into place, and the volunteer emergency squad comes streaming out of the vehicles. I step away from the door, my foot encountering an obstacle that threatens my balance. I look down and see Mark’s bloody lips forming my name.

Chapter Sixteen

When I kneel beside him, I know nothing can be done to help him. His shirt is a mass of blood, and he’s gasping for air. I call out for help anyway and take his hand. Tears fill my eyes.

“Why?” I whisper because it’s all the voice I have.

“Had to warn you.” He gasps each word. “Not safe.”

“Warn me about what? What’s not safe?”

“Be…” The word trails off, and his hand goes slack in mine.

“Mark?” I lean down to listen for breath sounds and hear nothing. “Dammit.”

“Are you okay?” Adam squats down beside me.

“I’m fine. It’s everyone else here that isn’t. How did this happen? First in Juniper Springs and now here? This doesn’t make sense.”

“I know.” He cups my elbow and helps me to my feet. “We need to clear the scene. The state police are on the way. They’ll want our statements. But first, let’s get cleaned up and get some air.”

Air. Something Mark or Sheriff Abernathy would never need again. I can barely breathe myself as I walk beside Adam. More people have gathered outside than live in Broomtown. So we shuffle our way through the crowd to Adam’s truck where I press my spine against the cool metal and close my eyes.

“You can’t shut them out, Emily.” Adam’s voice is as soft as spun cotton, and he rubs his hands up and down my arms as though trying to restore feeling. “What you just saw in there, experienced, it’ll stay with you.” He doesn’t sugarcoat his words. “Some nights it’ll be hard as hell to sleep, but you’ll move on. It’s what we do.”

I lean my forehead into his chest. “Mark said something to me before he died.” The finality of the sentence makes me shiver. Mark is dead. I should feel something more, shouldn’t I? There’d been tears on my cheeks when he lay dying, but I’m not sure they were for him.

“Emily.” Adam breaks into my thoughts. “What did Mark say?”

“Something about warning me, that it wasn’t safe.”

“What did he mean?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t get a chance to explain.” I move closer to Adam as I start to shiver. Reality is setting in.

“Emily? Emily!” Francine races toward me, arms outstretched. “Oh my God, I thought…” She breaks off and smothers me in a hug that quickly ends with a shove backwards so she can inspect me from head to toe. “Are you okay, girl?” She doesn’t give me a chance to answer before barreling on. “When I heard those gunshots, I almost passed out. I just couldn’t figure out how this could be happening again. That lowball son-of-a-bitch. How can he claim to love you then shoot at you like he’s hunting for his dinner?”

“Francine.”

“When I find him, I’m going to kick his ass into the middle of next week and then start all over. No, I’ll—”

“Francine.” Adam manages to interrupt her. “Mark was one of the victims inside. He didn’t make it.”