Connecting Strangers (Discovering Emily) (17 page)

She has Adam’s number programmed into her phone so I press the contact button. Adam answers after two rings. “Francine, not now. I’m in the middle—”

“Adam, it’s me. Someone shot at the station. Not just once. Francine was leaving, but she’s okay.” The words gush out. Before I can say more, Adam tells me to lock the door and stay inside. He’ll be there as soon as he can.

It only seems like seconds pass when we hear the squeal of tires. “Emily!” Adam leaves the car engine running and bounds up the steps to the office. I hear keys jingling, and before I can get to the door, the knob is already turning.

“Thank God.” He reaches for me, pulls me into his arms, and holds me tight.

“I’m fine, too, thanks,” Francine drawls, taking a sip of the lukewarm coffee I poured her. “Even though I was the one getting shot at, you go ahead and comfort her.” A soft chuckle takes any intended sting out of her words.

Adam releases me long enough to wrap an arm around Francine’s shoulders. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Mollified, she sniffs and plunks herself down behind his desk on the chair she rescued from my cell. “Well, I can’t say I’m okay. I’m still shaking like a three-year-old scared by a clown.”

I move closer to Adam’s chest, and his arm goes around my waist. Silently, I beat myself up for not saying something to him sooner. He could have warned Francine and Art. The second his name comes to mind, I whip my gaze to Francine. “Is Art okay?”

She blinks several times in rapid succession. “Why wouldn’t he be? That shot was for you.” When I don’t respond, she prods me. “Wasn’t it?”

I can’t look at her when I reply. “Mark threatened all of you indirectly. He’d never come out and say you were all going to die. But that’s what he meant.” And what he’d done to my parents. My hands are ice cold when they find Adam’s and hold on tight.

“That son-of-a-bitch.” Francine continues to rub the back of her head. “I shouldn’t be surprised he’s a lousy damn shot. Guys like him prefer to use their fists.”

Adam’s hazel eyes turn a darker green. “I need to go have a little talk with Mark.”

“You won’t find him in town. He’s halfway back to Broomtown because he doesn’t get his hands dirty. His father taught him that.”

“That figures.” Adam heads to the wall to survey the bullet’s damage. “I’ll get our crime techs to pull this out. It’ll tell us the caliber and help us pinpoint the gun. From what you told me over the radio, though, if it’s a typical hunting rifle, there are hundreds registered in Burlington County alone. Your ex did his homework.”

“Or Ike did it for him.”

“Well, whoever it was made a big mistake.” Adam is at the radio so fast I barely see him move.

“The radio’s out. A bullet didn’t hit it, but…” I don’t finish my sentence because Adam is already on his cell phone, barking orders that are quickly followed by responses loud enough for me to hear.

When he hangs up, he checks the cord connecting the radio. “Probably interference. The bastard knows his stuff.” He lifts his gaze. “Francine, is there somewhere else you and Art can stay tonight?”

She sniffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m not going to let that horse’s ass run me out of my home. If he or any of his little buddies come back, Art and I will be waiting. And I don’t need to tell you that Art is more than capable of making sure no one reaches my front door.”

Adam drags a hand through his hair and gives her a stern look. “You can’t shoot someone for walking up to your door.”

“Of course not.” She gives him an innocent look. “We’ll shoot him then drag his body inside.”

“Francine!”

“He ain’t getting into my house, Adam. If it so happens that Art and I have to take care of things, we’ll deal with the fallout later. Until then, you just concentrate on Emily. No matter what she says, I don’t trust that sneaky bastard she used to call a boyfriend.” She makes a moves as though preparing to walk to the door, but Adam snags her wrist.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Back to the diner.” Her chin thrusts out at an angle I’ve began to recognize as stubbornness rearing its head.

“Not with a shooter on the loose. I’m bringing the other deputies in. One of them will stop by the diner and pick up Art. Then both of you are going to a hotel.”

“Weren’t you listening to a word I said?” She squares her shoulders and goes nose-to-nose with him. “No lily-livered piece of trash is going to keep me from my home.”

“It isn’t Mark,” I remind them. “Whoever his daddy hired has his orders. Francine, listen to Adam. Mark has made you a target.”

“Well, the Billy Bad Ass he hired is a horrible shot so I don’t see as how I’ve got too much to be worried about. I might be a little shaken, but I ain’t scared. I promised myself years ago no man would ever scare me again. Your dumb ass ex certainly isn’t going to make me break that vow.”

“Why do you have to be so damned difficult?” Adam grinds out each word.

“It’s what I do best.” She gives him a toothy smile, but I catch a glimpse of uncertainty in her gaze. In all honesty, she doesn’t know that she can stand up to her own promises. That first shot might have been a warning and not necessarily meant to do any damage. So we need to be prepared when the next bullet comes.

Another car engine joins the sound of the car Adam left running. He holds up one finger to keep Francine from moving. His gun slides out of the holster, and he points to the floor, telling both of us to get down.

Boots scuffle on the porch then the doorknob turns. “Sheriff?”

I breathe a sigh of relief and slowly climb back to my feet. It’s Gary, and he’s got Art with him.

“What the hell happened?” Art crosses the floor in two strides and hugs Francine so tightly she protests. “You all right, Sis?”

“I’m fine. Just a bruise on my head.” She turns around to show it to him.

“So what are you doing about this, Adam?” Art jams his hands on his hips after sufficiently inspecting his sister’s wound, and I notice he has a gun tucked into the back of his jeans.

“Well, I was just trying to talk your sister into going to a hotel for the evening.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Art plows on before Adam can say anything more. “I ain’t going with her, though. You need men to help. I’ve been deputized before, and I don’t need to tell you how good of a shot I am.”

“You’ll need something a little bigger than the six-shooter you’re carrying.” Adam jerks his head toward a door behind his desk. “We’ll get you something from there in a minute. In the meantime, Gary will take Francine to the Teardrop Inn.”

“Hold on just a second here.” She begins to bluster, but Adam talks over top of her.

“Emily’s going with you.”

“I can’t leave the jail. I’m supposed to be under arrest.”

“This is a hot zone now, Emily, and with the radio down, it isn’t safe. Besides that, there are two people on Mark’s hit list, and I’m not about to make it easier by keeping you all in the same place.”

“Three,” I correct, though it comes out in a hoarse voice that doesn’t sound like my own.

“Three? You think Mark wants you dead, too?”

“No. He wants all of my friends dead. That would include you.”

He stares at me for the longest time until Francine begins to snicker.

“The guy’s dumber than he looks if he thinks the two of you are just friends. He probably has a different reason for wanting to take you out. Probably something called jealousy. I suspect he’ll want to put a bullet between Adam’s eyes himself. He won’t give that pleasure to anyone else.”

The image is enough to shake me. “Francine, stop.” My stomach queasy, I press one hand against my abdomen. “Just listen to Adam. I’ll be there with you.”

Though she makes a tsking noise, Francine hooks her arm through Gary’s. “Well, since I’m being banned from my home and forced to spend the night in a fleabag motel, do I have your permission to pack a few personal items I’ll need, Sheriff Madison?”

Adam massages his temples. “Yes, go.”

“And you won’t mind if Gary takes me, what with it being so dangerous out there and all.” She bats her eyelashes. “I mean, that is, if he doesn’t have a problem with going. You don’t mind, do you?”

The deputy blushes and stammers a reply that seems to satisfy Francine. She begins to tow him to the front door. “I’ll see you in a few minutes, Emily. I should warn you. I snore.”

“Like a freight train,” Art adds for emphasis.

“Kiss my ass.”

Once the door closes, Adam jerks his head toward Art. “Give us a minute, would you?”

He grumbles his way over to the corner of the office.

In two long strides, Adam is in front of me. He rubs his hands up and down my arms. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Me, too.” I bump my head against his chest. “You take care of yourself while I’m in protective custody.”

He chuckles. “I wouldn’t exactly call Francine protective custody, but there will be a deputy outside.”

“I figured that out already.” Reluctantly, I pull away. Two steps toward the cell, I pause. “I’m going to kick Mark’s ass.”

“You won’t have to. This stunt will land him in jail.”

Somehow I manage to refrain from snorting. “You don’t know anything about his father, Adam, but I can tell you that jail is the last place he’ll allow his baby boy to end up. Believe me. He’s already got Mark’s alibi solidified as well as his own. If anyone’s going to prison, it’s one of Broomtown’s gomers. And they’ll take the fall because Ike Metzger has promised to take care of their families or some other nonsense. I’ve seen it happen one too many times. The one good thing I can say about Ike is he does keep his word. That’s why he has so many volunteers, and Broomtown has the highest population of ex-convicts. At one point or another, most men in that town have served time because of Ike’s persuasive nature.”

“And no one has seen through his bullshit?”

“Of course they have. Everyone has seen through it, but when you’re the biggest dog in town, the puppies certainly aren’t going to go up against you.”

Adam’s gaze slides to the door. “So he just hasn’t had any contenders yet.” When his hazel eyes connect with mine, I see a depth of fury I didn’t think was possible in one man. “I’ll see what I can do about changing that.”

Chapter Twelve

“I think Gary likes you.” I greet Francine with this bit of knowledge when she exits the shower because I want to talk about anything but Mark, Ike, or my travel plans in a few hours.

Francine scrubs her damp hair with a threadbare white towel. “Honey, I figured that out a long time ago.” She makes a face at the carpet. “Whoever the housekeeper is should be fired.”

“So why haven’t you done anything about it?” The lumpy pillow behind me gets a thump from my fist before I settle back against it and the shaky wooden headboard.

She shrugs and tosses the towel onto the foot of the double bed she’s claimed for the evening. “Wasn’t sure I was ready.”

“How long has it been since…?” I’m not allowed to finish my question.

“Not long enough in my opinion. Now, shouldn’t you be getting some sleep? Adam’s going to be getting here awfully early in the morning to take you back to the jail.”

Though I know she’s hoping I’ll switch out the light, I swing my feet to the side of the bed instead. “Or I could leave.”

Dropping to the uncomfortable mattress, Francine stares at me for a long moment then gives a little laugh. “You won’t do that.”

“How do you know?” She can’t know me as well as she thinks she does. I could run. Even without a car I could be across the county line before sun-up. It wouldn’t be difficult to catch a ride with a farmer heading into Lexington then.

She grins at me. “Because you want to see if things can work out between you and Adam.”

“There is nothing to work out. Once I’m taken back to Broomtown, that’s the end of anything Adam and I have…had. I don’t regret one second of the time we’ve spent together, but after this, we’re out of time.”

“If you think he’s going to let you go without a fight…” Her voice trails off. “Adam hasn’t been this close to a woman in a long time. Not since Kathryn left.”

“Kathryn? Who’s Kathryn?” I sit up straighter, my curiosity piqued.

Suddenly, she’s not smiling anymore. “Oh, hell, he hasn’t told you about Kathryn? Now is a good time for me to shut my mouth and go to sleep.”

“No. No way.” I scramble from my bed and onto hers. “Who is Kathryn? And before you refuse to answer my question, know that I have no interest in sleeping. I can stay awake all night. Which means, of course, so will you.”

Francine scoots beneath the polyester bedspread and brings it up to her chin. “Me and my big mouth. I thought he would have told you.”

“We didn’t get around to sharing much personal stuff.”

“Oh, really? Sounds to me like the two of you shared a whole lot of personal, just maybe not with words.” The snarky tone of her voice doesn’t dissuade me.

“Was she his girlfriend?”

Flinging one arm over her eyes, Francine mutters a curse then replies. “His wife.” She lifts the arm to peek at me. “He was married for about thirty minutes right out of high school. Okay, it might have been a bit longer than that, but he hasn’t spent this much time with a woman since she left.”

His wife? I’d asked him if he’d ever married. I couldn’t remember his complete response, but there’d definitely been no mention of a wife. “Why did she leave?” It’s none of my business, but I have to know.

Francine sighs. Not just a weary, restless sigh. This one is a gusty “I need to learn when to keep my mouth shut” sigh.

“If you’re worried I’m going to say something to Adam—”

“Oh, honey. I can handle Adam any day of the week and twice on Sunday. But I know he wouldn’t want me telling you this. Art’s always told me I need a shoe extractor for my mouth.” Her shoulders lift and fall. “But maybe I said all this on purpose. I’ve always figured if you’re getting involved with a man, you ought to know the whole story.”

“Adam and I aren’t involved…at least not in the way you think we are.” My rapid heartbeats drown out the sound of my own voice. She makes it sound more intimate than it is. We’ve shared our bodies, but we’ve kept our secrets. That alone is enough to tell me neither one of us is looking for a relationship. “There’s involved and then there’s involved. We’re the first one. It’s a casual relationship.” The more I talk, the more I talk myself into a hole.