Zeph Undercover (26 page)

“Where’s my car?” Lincoln asked in a deceptively mild voice.

Allie squeezed Zeph’s hand. “Down by the reservoir. I’m sorry, Dad. It has two flat tires. I ran over some rocks or something. I’ll call the service station from your house and get Ted to fix it and bring it back to the house.”

Lincoln harrumphed but didn’t say another word until they’d reached his house and Monty and Zeph and Allie had followed him into the living room, giving Zeph enough time to work up a good head of guilt. Bad enough to lose the guy’s car, but if he heard about the shooting…

“Sorry about the—” he began.

Before he could say “car,” his mother bustled into the room and threw her arms around him. “Oh, you’re back. I was so worried. Allison, are you all right? What happened? Lincoln, how did you find them? Monty, thank you so much for—”

“All right, Elena,” Lincoln said. “Be patient, my dear. Give Allison a chance to tell us why she—it was you doing the driving, Allison?”

The “my dear” diverted Zeph’s attention for a moment, but he snapped back to attention when Lincoln continued. “As I was saying, would you care to explain why you were driving down to the reservoir? I thought you planned to stay up at the lookout.”

Actually, no, he wouldn’t like to explain. “Well, uh, sir, we—uh—” He’d faced enraged cheating husbands and drug dealers intent on murder, but he’d never felt guilty before.

“I’ll tell you what happened,” Allie interjected. “And it wasn’t Zeph’s fault. Those two Johnson guys did leave, and so did Wend, in his own truck, and I thought we ought to follow them. Zeph said no, but I got in the driver’s seat and—” She gulped. “And we saw Wend turn down toward the reservoir. So I followed him and...” She gave a concise summary of the events.

Zeph figured Lincoln’s attention stopped at the part where Seldon started shooting. He turned an interesting shade of red and said something garbled and half swallowed.

“You saw him do a drug deal?” Monty interrupted before Lincoln recovered.

“Here are the pictures. There’s a good one of the other two guys. And the registration number on their boat.” Zeph popped the memory card and handed it to Monty.

“Come in tomorrow and make a statement,” Monty said, and sprinted out the door.

“He shot at you,” Lincoln said in a preternaturally calm voice.

“Not exactly,” Zeph said before he thought, and winced. Not a good idea to substitute wild, out of control shots in Lincoln’s mind.

“Shot.” Lincoln’s face edged toward purple.

“Dad,” Allie said. Zeph took her hand and found it ice cold.

“He shot at you. And this irresponsible, unreliable idiot—”

His mother bounced to her feet. “My son is not irresponsible. Or unreliable. Or an idiot. You can’t say things like that—”

“Calm down, Mother.”

“He took you on a stake-out,” Lincoln continued, “And led you into gunfire. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t—” He stalled, incoherent with fury.

“Dad. Calm down,” Allie begged. “Nothing happened. This isn’t good for your heart. Please. It was my fault. I insisted on going with him, remember? I was the one who insisted on following Wend and his friends.”

“And you couldn’t stop her.” Lincoln’s glare raked Zeph.

“And just how do you think he could have done that?” Allie demanded. “You couldn’t stop me from going with him. And I had the keys.”

“You can’t say anything that’s worse than what I’ve said to myself,” Zeph said quietly to Lincoln.

“He didn’t have a chance. Dad,” Allie said. “I—well, I kidnapped him.”

A flush of red colored Zeph’s cheeks. “It wasn’t her fault,” he insisted, still not sure how he could have stopped her. “I didn’t intend to do anything but watch from a safe distance—”

“I told him I’d follow them if he didn’t agree. So leave him alone.” She stepped closer to Zeph. “He didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, he did everything he could to protect me.”

“I’m sure he did,” Zeph’s mother said. “Zephram would never knowingly put a woman in danger. But you, young woman, what did you think you were doing?”

Allie hung her head. “I was wrong, Mrs. Granger. I’m sorry.”

“I suppose you’re going to say he would have taken a bullet for you,” Lincoln growled.

“Well, he would have. He pushed me behind him when Wend started shooting.”

Zeph noted with some relief that Lincoln’s color had returned to almost normal.

“All right, Allison. It was your fault and I’m wrong to worry when some young pup takes my daughter into a shoot-out. Just call me an old fuddy duddy and stick me in a corner.”

“You’re not a fuddy duddy, you’re just a worry wart,” Allie said.

“Very touching,” Zeph said. “But he’s right. I had no right—”

“You couldn’t—” Allie began.

“Give it up, Granger,” Lincoln said. “Or this will go on all day. Allie never gives up. And there’s always your mother to contend with.”

“Well, thanks, sir. I—”

“But I’m not forgiving and I’m not forgetting. I’m keeping my eye on you. And next time you do something like this, maybe you could confine yourself to the case you’re actually working on?”

Zeph flinched at the sarcasm in Lincoln’s voice.

“Not that Monty wasn’t grateful, judging by the way he shot out of here, but you do realize that all the
Sturm und Drang
today didn’t do a thing for your actual job. Don’t you?”

****

The next morning, Zeph shut the door of the sheriff’s station behind him with relief, and stood on the sidewalk gathering his thoughts. Even Monty hadn’t been able to resist ragging him about solving the wrong case. Hell, he hadn’t even known there was a drug deal going down. If he’d been asked, he would have put Stone’s Crossing at the bottom of the list for drugs.

Not that being arrested for drug dealing proved Seldon’s innocence in the other matter, but even before seeing the guy in action yesterday, not to mention listening to him spill his guts this morning, he hadn’t believed Seldon had anything to do with a sophisticated-by-comparison building scam.

So all the fuss and bother left him still spinning his wheels.

He’d cleared Allie’s father and Seldon. Frank had faxed him this morning about Bartelett’s finances. A look at the guy’s bank records convinced Frank the guy was paying blackmail, not receiving it. So he must be guilty of something. But was it anything Zeph cared about? Likely not, so his remaining suspects came down to Rodriguez, Mentrine, and…anyone he hadn’t suspected to date.

Shit.

He really needed to get his head together here. He’d already been in Stone’s Crossing about twice as long as he should have been, and he didn’t feel any closer to an answer. Of course, when he did find one, he’d have to leave Allie, and that didn’t figure as something he wanted to do. Still, he’d better get to work.

But first he’d go find Allie. Even investigators got coffee breaks and he deserved a few minutes with her. Then he’d get the truth from Bartelett.

Allie wasn’t at Betty’s, so he drove to the clinic. She had a waiting room full of dogs and cats and furry things he couldn’t identify, so he went out to the stable to visit his horse.

He leaned on the corral fence, and the mare trotted over to snuffle at him. He patted her neck and noticed that her fur felt smooth. She looked almost shiny, not so bony. She nosed at him again, and he pulled out a carrot he’d gotten from Martha before he left Lincoln’s this morning. The mare—he really ought to name her—didn’t seem to care that it was a little wilted, just gave him a look that he’d swear was grateful.

He took a step back. Damn. Zeph Granger didn’t do animals. He didn’t do mush. And here he was, thinking it felt…kind of good…to know he’d saved this horse. Kind of…stretched…inside. Maybe the way the Grinch had felt when his heart grew three sizes in one day.

And maybe Stone’s Crossing was addling his mind. He needed to get back to L. A. before his brain turned to oatmeal.

But first—he got a curry comb and brush from the stable and crawled through the fence. His horse loved being brushed so much he didn’t have to worry about tying her up.

When he finished with the brushing and had even combed the mane and tail, he looked into the clinic. Allie finished giving a shot to an ill-tempered dog about as big as she was and smiled at him. “Good timing. I’m all finished here.”

“Lunch?” he asked. “We could go to Betty’s before I talk to Bartelett.”

At the café, he slid into the booth next to Allie and sat closer than necessary. The feel, the gentle heat of her close against him, wiped all thoughts of Bartelett from his mind. After they ordered, he turned to face her, screening her from the room. “We should have taken a picnic lunch up the mountain,” he murmured, and enjoyed the color that washed her face.

“It’s going to snow,” she said. “We don’t get many days like that one this late in the year.”

The teasing light in her eyes made him grin. “Picnic, truck, doesn’t matter. I’ll take what I can get.”

“Sorry to interrupt.” Betty set their coffee and lunch plates on the table. “You two lovebirds want anything else?”

Bartelett burst through the door and stomped across the room to their booth, brushing Betty out of the way. “You,” he growled at Zeph. “I want to talk to you.”

“That’s a coincidence. I want to talk to you, too,” Zeph said pleasantly. “Sit down, Mr. Mayor.”

Allie leaned forward. “Hello, Bill.”

“Allie. I didn’t see you.” The mayor gave her a startled glance. “Perhaps I’d better see you later, Granger.” He started to turn but Betty blocked his way. “Coffee, Mr. Mayor?” He subsided and sat.

“You seem a little upset, Bill. What’s wrong?” Allie asked.

“Nothing, really, Allie. I’ve been looking for Granger for three days. I’d like to check out a couple of things I heard.

“And I’m not invited? I get it.” Allie nudged Zeph. “Let me out. I’ll get Betty to wrap my sandwich. I’ll take it to the clinic, and Bill, you can bring Zeph out to get his car, since you want a private conversation.”

“Or I could walk,” Zeph said under his breath.

“Nonsense. I’ll be happy to take you to the clinic.”

“You may not want my company after our little talk.” Zeph took a swallow of his coffee. “Three days, huh? That would be when my mother arrived. So what did she say that’s got you so fired up?”

Bartelett glanced around the diner. “Too many people. Finish your lunch. I’ll wait for you outside.” He lurched to his feet and left.

Zeph shook his head and went to ask Betty to wrap his sandwich, too. When he got outside, Bartelett motioned him from his car. “In here,” he said. “I don’t want to be overheard.”

“What do you want?”

“I want to know what you’re doing here in town.” His harsh voice left no doubt it was a demand. “You come sneaking around here asking questions, every time I turn around you’re there, you have the gall to question my wife, and now you’re mixed up in some drug arrest. We don’t have a drug problem here in Stone’s Crossing. At least, we didn’t until you showed up. So you tell me what you’re up to, Granger, or—” He broke off and glared at Zeph.

Zeph returned the glare. “I checked out the prowler at your place because you asked me to. As a favor, in case you’ve forgotten. Your wife did not back up that story. And, by the way, your drug problem was home grown, nothing to do with me.

“What I’m up to right now, since you ruined my lunch with my girl, is trying to figure out what you’re so worried about, Mr. Mayor. Seems to me you’ve got a mighty damned guilty conscience. You want to tell me what’s going on? Or shall I start trying to find out?”

“It’s none of your business,” Bartelett snapped.

“You’re making it my business.”

The glares turned into a staring contest.

The mayor broke first. “Did my wife hire you?”

“Nope.”

“Would you tell me if she did?”

“Nope.”

“Well, for God’s sake, Granger. You can’t expect me to—”

“Give it a rest, Bartelett. I don’t give a good goddamn if you cheat on your wife. She didn’t hire me. I haven’t been watching you. So get off my back and get out of my way.”

Bartelett sat back abruptly, anger leaking out of him like the stuffing in Betty’s cracked plastic booths.

Zeph narrowed his eyes. “If you keep this up, I’m going to start wondering if you’re up to something more than a little light adultery,” he said, but the mayor didn’t react like a guilty man. Zeph decided to prod a little. “No embezzling town funds? No hanky panky with town contracts? No paying blackmail? Come on, Mr. Mayor. Don’t tell me you came all the way from Sacramento to this backwater for the peace and quiet.”

“That’s exactly what I did, Granger,” Bartelett said quietly. “I wanted—needed—a—a place that—” He looked down, anger or embarrassment flushing across his face. “The hiring committee didn’t find out…my wife…I needed to be where she…she…” The emotion in the mayor’s voice prepared Zeph for the shine of tears gathering in the man’s eyes.

“She seemed quite charming this morning,” Zeph said. Charmingly loony. “Moving wouldn’t help if the problem were insane spending. There’s always the internet. If she was the neighborhood busybody you wouldn’t move to a small town. What was it—she banging all the repair men?”