Sanctuary Lost WITSEC Town Series Book 1 (33 page)

“Olympia has already been by this morning.
She said when he’s ready she intends to make sure Aaron has
everything he needs to get better.”

Of course she would. John smiled. The town
needed a new welcoming committee and he couldn’t think of a better
person to take the position. Hopefully Olympia would overlook the
demise of the last woman who held it.

John strode out, leaving the doctor to his
examination. Aaron had been his best shot so far at clearing
Andra’s name. The kid’s own defenses would make it so whatever he
might have seen had been lost in his mind.

“I got it!” Pat’s sneakers squeaked on the
floor all the way down the hall. He stopped in front of John to
hold up Aaron’s mail ledger.

“Great.” He squeezed his son’s shoulder. “You
okay, you need anything?”

“I’m fine.” Pat looked like he was enjoying
all this.

“What about school, do you need to take a
break here and give that some of your time today?”

Pat screwed up his nose. “Mrs. Pepper said we
couldn’t do school work because the internet is down, but one of
the teenagers said we can do other stuff and she’s just faking it
so she doesn’t have to work.”

“Huh.”

“So…do I have to go in?”

“I’ll find out and let you know.” John
grinned and sank into a crouch. “If you spend much more time
helping out, I might have to deputize you…or enroll you in medical
school.”

Pat puffed out his chest. “I could be a
deputy.”

“Junior deputy.”

“Would I get a badge?”

John grinned. “I might be able to work that
out.”

“What about a gun?”

“Water gun.”

Pat’s eyes narrowed. “BB gun.”

Oh, so he wanted to bargain, did he?

“Nerf gun.”

“Deal.” Pat grinned. At least John knew what
to get him for Christmas now.

“Listen, if you get bored or you need a
break, let me know, okay?”

Pat nodded. Beyond him, Bolton strode down
the hall with Dan Walden, the farmer with the over-compensating
horse. Thinking about it that way at least distracted John from
remembering how huge the beast had been.

He squeezed Pat’s shoulder. His boy with a
soft heart that had been forgotten too many times, took the ledger
to a young man he barely knew. Content to stay with him until he
was better.

“You okay?”

John waited until his son closed the door to
Aaron’s room and then glanced at Bolton. “Thanks for coming.” He
included Dan in his statement.

Dan, who stood almost hat-brim to hat-brim
with Bolton, shrugged with a sideways tilt of his head. “Farrera
filled me in on what’s been going on with Aaron and Ms. Caleri.”
Dan hesitated. “Farrera said it was revenge. Did she kill Betty
Collins?”

John shook his head. “I don’t think she did.
I just can’t prove it.”

“I’d be more surprised if she had.”

“Why’s that?”

“Got a request in for one-on-one discipleship
a number of years back.”

Bolton said, “Discipleship?”

“Loosely, you could call it counseling. But
more with a view to encouraging someone in their faith—usually a
new Christian—and teaching them how to walk the walk they’re
learning.”

Dan paused for a second. “I pair the request
with the person who fits, but who the heck matches up with an
assassin? Although in this town, that’s not such a stretch as it
normally would be. So I pulled in Nadia Marie and put it to her.
She jumped at it herself, wanted to get to know Andra. I get
regular updates, but they’re really non-specific because we want to
respect a person’s privacy. As far as I know Andra’s been doing
well for a long time. And I’m talking years.”

John digested all that. “She’s been doing the
discipleship thing all this time?”

“At some point it turned into a solid
friendship. It happens. It’s a good thing.”

“So is it like a sponsor, like with
Alcoholics Anonymous?”

“After a fashion.”

Bolton shifted. “With Nadia Marie?”

Dan glanced at the other man with look in his
eye and a slight smile. “What’s it to you?”

The rancher’s eyes went wide. “No
reason.”

“Sure, man. Whatever you gotta say to
convince yourself Nadia Marie is just another resident you’ll be
forced to spend the best years of your life living alongside.” Dan
grinned. “The minute you want to step things up, come see me. I’ll
let you in on a few things you’re gonna want to know.”

Bolton folded his arms. “Is that right?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Gentlemen.” John cleared his throat about
ready to start laughing at their antics. Evidently there was a
little friendly rivalry going on, that had nothing to do with
Battle Night. He glanced between them. “Any of your men around Main
Street Saturday night maybe saw Aaron, or a woman?”

Dan was shaking his head before John even
finished the question. “They wouldn’t have seen Aaron.”

“Because he wasn’t out that night? Your team
guys live in the same house as he does.”

“That doesn’t make him any less invisible.
I’ve already spoken with Bill and Sam.”

John snorted, remembering the smell of their
house and the affect that would no doubt have on their
memories.

Dan frowned. “They didn’t see him. And they
say he wasn’t even out that night.”

“He could have snuck out.” Bolton didn’t look
happy. “And the kid is far from invisible.”

“Bill and Sam told me they barely ever see
him coming and going, and they live in the same house.”

John said, “That’s likely due more to the
weed than Aaron.”

Bolton’s head whipped around. “They have weed
as well?”

“We’ll worry about that next week. Right now
there’s a murderer loose and a woman—” John glanced at Dan. “—a
member of your congregation, was abducted from jail and
attacked.”

“Weren’t you watching her?”

John shot Dan a look. “I was within
earshot.”

“Don’t you have a security system?”

“This isn’t the Federal Reserve. We’re a hick
town, with barely any resources.”

“Duh,” Dan said. “I’ve lived here my whole
life. I know that.”

“That’s right. How’d that work?”

He nodded. “My dad was sent here in the
seventies, couple of years before I was born.”

“I’ll have to meet him sometime.”

“He passed when I was fifteen.”

John pressed his lips together, then said,
“I’m sorry for your—”

Bolton clapped Dan on the shoulder. “Probably
saw the deer. Am I right?”

Dan chuckled, shrugging off Bolton’s grip.
“Likely that’s where the story came from, if you actually believe
in all that. Which I don’t.”

John nodded and moved his face to look
gravely serious. “Good, because if it is true then I’m next.”

Dan hissed out a breath between his teeth.
“Sucks to be you, man.”

Given everything which had landed in John’s
lap since he arrived, even though he’d met Andra, even though Pat
seemed happy, he couldn’t really disagree. “Brother, you are not
wrong.”

Dan smiled, though the sadness in his eyes
was unmistakable. “So what now?”

John said, “I find the killer or Andra gets
shipped off to a life sentence on Monday.”

“Not a problem, since she’s clearly the
killer.” Bolton’s eyebrows rose, like a challenge.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Bolton didn’t react. “Calm down,
brother
. I’m just saying what everyone in town is thinking.
Seems to me like the only person who doesn’t expect Andra on that
plane Monday morning is you.”

“If they’re so sure she’ll be out of here,
then why the attack?”

“A warning,” Bolton said.

Dan shot John another “duh” look.

Bolton continued. “To her. To you. You name
it. Either way, statement’s been made. Only one left to fall in
line is…you.”

Right. “You’re telling me you think she did
it?”

“Does it matter what I think?” Bolton
shrugged. “I barely know the woman and I can’t say I liked Betty
Collins much either. Life is life, doesn’t matter whose. But I gave
up the fire of following leads, collecting evidence and seeing the
result come in when I left the life. It’s not in me anymore.”

“Just like that, you quit?” John didn’t think
he’d ever stop being a marshal, not even after he retired. It was
part of who he was. “Suddenly you’re all about your cows…oh, but
with a little looking into whoever’s making moonshine and where the
weed came from.”

It was Dan who spoke, “People see what they
want to see. But that’s never the whole story.”

Bolton shot Dan a look. “When did you become
a sage?”

But John couldn’t stop thinking about
everyone’s being so sure Andra was responsible for Betty’s death.
They expected her on the plane on Monday. A plan like that wouldn’t
have originated in Sanctuary. Whoever wanted Andra would need to
communicate with the person at this end. When the internet was
turned off, their only method of communication in or out of town
was John’s satellite phone.

The attack on her aside, it fit. John was
inclined to think it was revenge for what she’d supposedly done;
meaning whoever did it really thought she’d killed Betty. The
mayor? John would have to pay the bereaved husband a visit.

“Where in the blue blazes have you been?”

All three men turned to see doctor Fenton
looking like a cherry sucker, given the color of his face versus
the white lab coat.

Harriet Fenton shrugged off her jacket. “What
do you care?” The scrubs underneath were pink and somehow she
managed to make them look good.

John’s gaze moved straight to the doctor’s
arm as it snaked out and he grabbed her, pulling her attention back
to him.

“I said, where were you.”

“And I said, What. Do. You. Care? Suddenly
you want to play the doting husband, the fabulous doctor saving the
day. All because two hopeless cases got themselves hurt?” She
slammed her hands down on her hips. “Big fat whoop.”

Harriet grabbed a file off the front desk and
flounced down the hall. When she saw the three men staring, she
faltered and pasted on a smile, sashaying past them. “Fellas.”

She stepped into Aaron’s room and John caught
Bolton’s look. Within a few seconds there was a commotion. Someone
yelled and then there was a louder yell that broke into a scream
made by a lower pitch voice. Aaron.

John flung the door open.

The kid was flailing, eyes wide as his
unfocused stare darted around the room. Andra was in a wheelchair.
She pulled Pat back until he was behind her. Harriet was on the
opposite side of the bed, facing away from John. She held her hands
out, trying to placate Aaron with senseless words. She touched his
shoulder.

Aaron screeched and almost jumped from the
bed.

Doctor Fenton pushed in behind John.
“Harriet, that’s enough. Andra, you too. Everyone back up. I want
you all out of this room.”

The way Fenton said it made John think he saw
both women as equally responsible, like he didn’t know who Aaron
was reacting to. John had assumed Harriet was the culprit, but
could Aaron feel threatened by Andra? Either way, John needed
answers. So having a word with doctor Fenton about man-handling his
wife was going to have to wait.

“Harriet.” John waited until she looked at
him. “If you’d like to come with me, I have a few questions to ask
you.”

The first of which probably shouldn’t be,
“Did you murder Betty Collins?” Still, it was tempting to get
straight to the point.

John wasn’t familiar with the layout of the
medical center, so he let Harriet lead him to a break-room with a
vending machine and a fridge. A tiny TV was up on the wall in the
corner, tuned to a national news program with the volume low and
subtitles on. John sat facing it, so Harriet wouldn’t be
distracted.

She settled in the plastic chair across from
him. “I can’t imagine what this might be about. I thought Andra
Caleri was in custody, and there she was in Aaron’s room like a
free woman.”

No mention of the state of her face, or the
fact Andra had been holding Pat back with one arm while the other
was wrapped around her waist.

“How are you, Mrs. Fenton?” Maybe that wasn’t
the best lead-in, given there was apparently trouble in medical
center paradise, but the formality was ingrained in him. “Are you
doing okay since your friend’s death?”

She sighed and her gaze dropped to the table
between them. “It’s been a hard few days.”

He would give her that, being as her hair was
rumpled and her husband seemed to feel she was being distant. But
other explanations fit too. Betty Collins had reported her as
having a relationship with Terrence.

Palmer had shown up Saturday night with his
shirt all disheveled. And he’d been absent a lot. Were they in a
relationship—in this—together? She could easily be the woman Bill
and Sam had seen in town, running away from Betty’s dead body.
Harriet could also be the cause of Aaron’s reaction, the one who
told him not to tell. He couldn’t be sure she’d hit the young man
over the head, but Palmer sure could have. Just as he could have
drugged Andra and used John’s satellite phone.

“So what just happened with Aaron?”

Harriet’s eyes saddened a little too quickly.
“He just doesn’t like me.” She wasn’t going to blame the reaction
on Andra? “Aaron is…sensitive. It’s something we all have to deal
with.”

John hadn’t found him to be the least bit
sensitive. He didn’t believe in placating people and making them
feel like a burden, he’d rather give them the tools to handle
themselves. And yet, Aaron seemed to be doing that himself.

Still studying Harriet, he sat forward in the
chair and tried to look like he cared. “Why do you think Betty was
killed?”

“I have no idea.”

“You were friends, would you have known if
someone hated her?”

Her face screwed up. “Like Andra?”