Shattered Justice (24 page)

“TALK TO ME ABOUT MARLIN MURPHY.”

Jayce’s head jerked up, the look in his eyes far from accommodating.

He and Dan were on their way home from catching a movie down in the valley, and Dan decided to put the drive to good use.

“Why?”

“Because I know he’s a friend of yours. And that worries me.”

“Marlin’s not my friend.”

The harsh edge to Jayce’s words drew a glance from Dan. Jayce released a huff. “You saw what he did to me at the center. Why would you think he’s my friend?”

Fair question. Deserved an honest answer. “Because you hang with him.”

“Yeah, well …” Jayce turned to stare out his window. “Not by choice.”

He muttered the words so low Dan wondered if Jayce meant for him to hear them. “Meaning?”

“What?”

“What did you mean, not by choice?”

Nope. If the red that seeped into Jayce’s cheeks was any sign, he hadn’t intended for Dan to hear that.

“I dunno. Look, Marlin doesn’t have friends. He has …”

“Accomplices?”

His jaw tensed. “Do we have to talk about this?”

Okaay. Dan gave the boy a sideways glance. “What would you rather talk about?”

“Anything.” He pulled a pair of sunglasses from his coat pocket and slipped them on, leaning his head back against the headrest. Sunglasses at night. Clearly he wanted to hide. “Anything but Marlin the Miserable.”

Dan let the silence grow for a beat then launched in. “So tell me what you think of God.”

He peered at Dan over the sunglasses. “You gotta be kiddin’ me.”

Dan negotiated the turn just before the Lost Lake bridge. He glanced at the lake, loving how the water shimmered in the moonlight. “Marlin or God. Take your pick.”

With a weighted sigh, Jayce plucked the sunglasses from his face. “Right. Okay. God. He’s there. But that’s pretty much it.”

“Think so, huh?”

“Hey, I know you think He’s all around us and inside us. And that He’s all involved in our lives and stuff. But—” his shrug was eloquent—“I don’t see it. Or I guess I don’t see Him.”

“Not at all?”

Jayce opened his mouth to reply then closed it. Thought for a moment. Then glanced out the passenger window again. “Maybe a little.”

“Hey, a little is good. I’ll take a little.”

Jayce shook his head. “You have got to be one of the strangest ducks I’ve ever met. You and your family.”

Dan grinned. “Just wait’ll you meet my sisters.”

“Stranger than you?”

“Way stranger.”

With a chuckle, Jayce slid his sunglasses back in place. “Now
that’d
prove God was real.”

Dan laughed. “How’s that?”

The grin that lifted Jayce’s lips was pure mischief. “ ’Cause someone being stranger than you? That’d
have
to be a miracle.”

The battle was about to begin.

Dan leaned against his cruiser, which was parked in front of his office, arms crossed, watching Marlin as he sauntered down the sidewalk toward him. The kid walked like he owned the world. Sadly, too many treated him that way as well. Younger kids looked up to him as some kind of rebel hero. Older kids tried to emulate him, as if he were the epitome of cool. Adults? Well, a few ignored him. Others hurried to get out of his way when he walked by. And then there were folks like Aggie and Doris.

Just yesterday Dan had glanced out his office window to see the two old women perched in their rockers. They’d been talking, rocking away, when suddenly their chairs came to an abrupt halt. Dan stood, concerned there was a problem. He walked to the window and frowned when he spotted Marlin, his gang in tow, ambling toward the two ladies.

Grabbing his jacket, Dan was out the door, ready to protect them from Marlin and whatever verbal abuse he might choose to unleash. But he needn’t have bothered. Aggie and Doris stiffened in their rockers, backs ramrod straight, chins lifted a fraction, fixing Marlin with eagle-sharp glares.

He caught their stares, and for a heartbeat Dan thought the kid was going to say something smart. But Doris’s already stern
features turned downright formidable. Marlin stopped, took a step back, and scooted past them with only a glower tossed over his shoulder.

Watching Sanctuary’s resident bad boy taken down a peg by those two did Dan’s heart some serious good. He joined the ladies on the boardwalk.

“You know, I pray for that boy every day.”

Dan tried not to let his surprise show at Doris’s comment. “You do?”

She nodded. “I figure anyone that angry has a whole lot of hurt inside.”

“Not only that, he’s got to have a lot of hurt.”

Dan and Doris looked at Aggie. Her eyes went wide. “What?”

“Yes, I pray for that boy. Almost—” Doris offered to Dan in a low aside—“as often as I pray for Agatha’s hearing.”

He laughed.

“What?” Aggie scooted her chair closer. “Speak up, Doris! I can’t hear the punch line to your jokes!”

“Agatha Hunter, you
are
the punch line.”

“Oh … phoo.” Aggie’s chair set to rocking. “Anyway, that Murphy boy, he needs our prayers. Lots of them.” She pinned Dan with a firm look. “You pray for him, don’t you, Sheriff?”

He’d long ago given up correcting these two when they called him that. “Well …”

“ ’Course he does, Aggie. Sheriff Dan’s a solid Christian. He knows the best thing to do is pray for your enemies.”

Dan chuckled. “I’ll tell you something, ladies; you put me to shame.”

“Oh?” Doris’s nose took on more wrinkles. “Why is that?”

“I’ve done a lot of things about Marlin Murphy. Checked into his background—”

“Ooh. That was terrible. The way his father treated him.”

“And killing himself that way. With a gun.” Aggie clucked her tongue. “Such a waste.”

“—but I confess, I’ve never prayed for the kid.”

Both women’s rockers halted at that. Then Aggie started her chair into a slow, easy motion. “Well, now … that is a bit of a surprise.”

“Your being a believer, and all.”

Dan smiled. He couldn’t help it. He hoped when he reached these ladies’ age, he would be as firm in his faith—and as willing to speak truth—as they were. “You know what I think?”

Aggie’s forgiveness for his lack was clear in the warm smile on her features. “What’s that, Sheriff?”

“I think God sent you two as my own personal angels. To remind me what I need to be doing. And I promise to pray for Marlin from now on.”

They giggled like a couple of schoolgirls. “Angels! Doris and me? Well, I mean, I can see why you’d think
I
was an angel …”

“Oh, plah, plah, plah, Aggie. Like
real
angels need hearing aids.”

And on they went, until Dan had to head back to his office before he burst out laughing. But as he walked across the street, he knew things had changed. He’d meant what he said. He would pray for Marlin.

But it was time to do something else as well. Something he’d been thinking about for a while.

It was time to talk with Marlin Murphy. Face-to-face.

So today he watched what had become the bane of his professional existence draw closer. Though only eighteen, Marlin was almost as tall as Dan. Combined with his considerable bulk, that made him an imposing figure. Marlin might be a hulk, but Dan knew the kinds of moves to bring hulks tumbling down.

He’d dealt with more than his fair share of kids like Marlin. The old adage
Never let ’em see you sweat
held true with them. You had to be as bold and in-your-face as they were. Not belligerent, just not a doormat.

As Marlin and his crew drew parallel with the cruiser, Dan pushed away from his leaning position and straightened to his full height. Times like this, he was grateful for his father’s genes. His dad had been six feet two. Dan topped him by a good two inches.

Dan knew the moment he came into Marlin’s line of sight. Alarm flashed across the kid’s features, then disappeared as the cool facade slipped into place. Marlin stopped—his gang stopping with him—arms crossed, and tilted his head to eye Dan.

“ ’Sup, Sheriff Taylor? Barney Fife get lost and you want us to find him for you?” The four boys with Marlin snickered.

Dan just smiled. “Aw, Marlin, I wouldn’t ask you to do that. I know you’ve got far more important things to do.”

Surprise flickered in Marlin’s eyes, and his responding smile was smug. “Yeah? Well, good. I like it when people recognize I’m important.” He cast a look of triumph at his gang, as though to say, “See? Even the deputy stays outta my way.”

Dan assumed a relaxed pose. “Sure. It’s hard work to find flunkies stupid enough to do your dirty work while you just sit around and reap all the benefits.”

The sudden hard set to Marlin’s features almost made Dan laugh. “Especially now that you’ve lost one of your main go- to guys.”

“Zat so?” Marlin’s voice had lost that lazy, confident drawl. Instead there was a definite edge to his words. “Care to elaborate?”

“Wow, Marlin.
Elaborate
. Big word for such a small man.” He didn’t give any indication he’d noted the way Marlin drew himself rigid at the insult. “But I think you know who I mean. Jayce Dalton. He has been somewhat absent from your following of late.”

Dan’s eyes drifted from one of Marlin’s crew to the next, noting how each of them dropped his gaze, staring at the ground. Like puppies pretending to be brave until an alpha male looked at them—then they piddled all over the floor and themselves showing how submissive they were.

“Ah, my man Jayce.” Marlin’s tone was as unpleasant as his smile. “He’s been on a bit of a hiatus.” He paused. “Oh, sorry, Andy, didn’t mean to use big words again. ’Specially not when they’re clearly over your head.”

The kid was good. He really looked like he felt bad. “Your concern is touching, Marlin. But no worries. I’ve known
hiatus
since I was in grade school. But hey, I’m glad you’ve finally learned what it means. Nice to see you bettering yourself.”

Marlin’s gaze narrowed. “Yeah, well, then you’ll be thrilled to know
my
man Jayce is right back on the job. Not—” he smirked at his cronies—“that there’s any kind of real job going on. I just mean he’s as much a part of our little group as ever.”

Dan studied the boy’s face, and his heart sank. He could usually tell when someone was bluffing, and Marlin had the smug expression of someone who knew what he was saying was not only true, but that it was bad news for the listener.

And it was. Bad news.

Shannon would be brokenhearted if she knew Jayce was hanging with Marlin again. Dan had been so sure Jayce was out of Marlin’s gang. That he’d changed …

Let it go, Justice. Focus on the issue at hand
.

He focused on Marlin and gritted his teeth. The malicious glitter in the kid’s eyes said he knew he’d struck home. That his words had nailed Dan, throwing him off.

Dan forced a nonchalant expression to his features, let a tiny smile tip his lips. “Marlin, Marlin.” He shook his head, not hiding the condescending tone in his voice. “Haven’t you learned by now? Things are seldom what they seem.” He shrugged. “Any good leader knows that.”

Two spots of red surged into Marlin’s cheeks. Score one for the good guys. “But hey, don’t let me burst your bubble, man.” Dan stepped aside. “And don’t let me hold you up. A big man like you must have lots of
business
to attend to.”

Glowering, Marlin started to pass Dan, but his hand shot out, catching the boy’s arm. He felt the muscles tense, but he
didn’t let his gaze waver as Marlin spun toward him. Dan met the boy’s angry stare without flinching.

“Just one more word to the not-so-wise, Marlin. I know what you’re up to. And I’m watching you. You mess up—you’re mine.”

A muscle jumped in Marlin’s jaw, but he didn’t reply. He just stared at Dan a moment longer. Then he jerked his arm free, spun on his heel, and went on his way, his gang in his furious wake.

Dan watched them go, hands in his pockets. So, the lines were drawn. But it wouldn’t end here. In fact, if what he’d just seen in Marlin’s dark eyes was any indication, it was just starting.

Well, so be it. Dan wasn’t about to let Marlin ruin Sanctuary. Any more than he would let him run Jayce’s life. Jayce was just starting to see how good life could be, how full when someone really cared about him.

Speaking of which …

His first planned encounter for the day was done. Now, on to the second. Dan smiled.

With any luck, this one would be far more enjoyable.

SHELBY WILSON, DIRECTOR
.