Still Waters (15 page)

“Good. Hopefully we’ll have the information we need by then and Tom can go home with him.”

“Tiffany doing okay?”

“As well as can be expected.”

“I’ll stop by the hospital. See if there’s anything I can do.”

“Good idea. Her parents should be there by now.”

Ben walked out the door and Jake turned his attention back to Tom. “Did you give the names yet?”

“He’s not talking. Says he’s got nothing to say.” Jeff Mallory spoke from across the table, his slightly nasal voice reminding Jake that he wasn’t alone.

“No? Tell you what, Mallory. You and Simmons take a break. I’ll see if I can talk some sense into Tom.”

“You sure, Sheriff? We don’t mind staying.” Henry Simmons stood, his face creased into lines of worry.

“Go get some coffee. Come back in a few minutes and we’ll go round up our suspects.”

The two officers hurried from the room and Jake grabbed a chair, sliding it close to Tom. “You should have told me weeks ago. You know it.”

“I’ve got nothing to say.”

“Yeah? Tell you what. Let’s go to the hospital. I want you to see what your silence has done.” Jake stood, grabbed Tom’s arm and dragged him to his feet. “Then you can look Tiffany in the eye and tell
her
you don’t know anything.”

Tom pulled against the pressure on his arm. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“No?” Jake grabbed his handcuffs and snapped them onto Tom’s wrists.

“Hey. You can’t do that!”

“Yeah. I can. And more. I warned you if anything happened to Tiffany you’d be the one to pay. I’m taking you to the hospital. Then I’m bringing you back here and charging you with assault.”

“But I didn’t do anything!”

“We’ve got a witness who saw you at the scene. Might be circumstantial, but people have been convicted on less.”

“But—”

“You’ve made your choice. I’ve made mine. I’ll find your buddies with or without your help. Let’s go.”

“They’re not my buddies!”

“Then why are you protecting them?”

“I’m not, I’m…” Tom’s shoulders sagged, his eyes moist with something that looked like tears.

Jake hardened himself against it. “You’re what?”

“I thought I was protecting Tiffany. I thought if I kept quiet they’d leave her alone.”

“Too late for that, isn’t it? She’s already been hurt. Give me the names and I’ll keep it from happening again.”

“I don’t know names. Not the ones you want.”

“Are you trying to tell me you weren’t part of the gang that’s been causing trouble all summer?”

“They aren’t a gang. At least they weren’t. Then this new kid butted in. He’s the one calling the shots now.”

“Give me a name.”

“I don’t have one. He showed up at Tiffany’s the day Dr. McMath was there. Asked me if I wanted to go have some fun.”

“And you said no?”

Tom’s face went deep red. “The other guys were with him. I figured we’d have a good time so I said sure. Then he started talking weird. Saying stuff about brotherhood and proving I could be trusted. He wanted me to get Tiffany’s account information. Steal credit card numbers and stuff. I said no.”

“So he beat the crap out of you.”

Tom shrugged. “I’ve had worse.”

“And you’re trying to tell me you don’t know his name? He never introduced himself? None of the other guys said his name?” Jake didn’t buy it and he was done playing. “You’re lying. You’re as deep in this as anyone. Come on. Forget the trip to the hospital. I’m pressing charges.”

“He goes by Slade. But it’s not his real name. He’s older. Maybe eighteen. Blond hair. Tall. Really tall. Maybe six-three.”

Jake stopped cold at Tom’s words. The kid had no way of knowing Tiffany’s attacker had been tall. “Anything else?”

“He’s got friends in Chicago. Said something about heading back there before the end of the summer. He just needs to get the money to do it.”

Which was probably why he wanted the credit card numbers. “What about the other kids? You have names on them?”

Tom nodded, all the bluff and rebellion gone. “I never meant for this to happen. I’ve been following them around as much as I can, trying to make sure they didn’t hurt Tiffany.”

“That’s what you were doing at her house?”

“Yeah. I heard something might be going down, but I couldn’t get there in time.”

Jake unlocked the handcuffs, and pointed to the table.
“Sit. You should have come to me. Should have told me this before.”

“Why? So you could call me a liar?” The words were snide, but there was hurt behind them.

“I would have checked things out.”

“You would have arrested me as soon as I admitted to knowing the guys responsible for all the vandalism and sh—”

“Careful.”

“Stuff. You would have assumed I was involved, too.”

Jake couldn’t deny it. “So you sacrificed Tiffany to keep yourself out of trouble.”

“No!” Tom slammed his fist down on the table. All the anger, frustration, and fear he felt bursting out in that one word.

“Then what?”

“I wanted to get proof. I wanted to be able to say I’d seen them committing a crime. Then they’d be in jail and I’d…”

His voice trailed off, but Jake could imagine what he was thinking. Tom wanted to be a hero. To somehow redeem himself in the eyes of a town that had pegged him as trouble.

If he was telling the truth then his mistake had been misguided, not malicious.

Jake eyed the teen. Saw him as he was—scrawny, scared, unsure. The body too lanky. The hands too big. The eyes guarded. And beneath the veneer of toughness, a child begging for a chance.

Was that what Tiffany had seen? Was that what she’d reached to touch? A soul not yet corrupted. A young man struggling to become something better than what the world said he would be.

Jake thought of Will. Of the time he’d spent reaching out
to gang members, giving each one a chance. Always believing that what they
could
be was something much more than what they were.

Could Jake do any less?

Not when he’d been forgiven much more than childish mistakes.

With a sigh, Jake pulled out a chair and sat down next to Tom. “Looks like we’re on the same side after all. Let’s get these guys.”

A
n hour later they had a list of names, and had brought the kids into the station, but nothing else. Frustrated, Jake eyed the ragtag group of teens waiting to be dismissed. Parents hovered over them. Some stunned, some angry. Jake didn’t bother to diffuse the emotions. Let them take it home with them. Maybe there, they’d get the answers Jake hadn’t been able to.

He had to give the kids credit; they’d concocted a believable alibi and were sticking to it. Interviewed separately, they’d each said the same thing—they’d been on the lake all day. Fishing, swimming and staying out of trouble.

Without proof that they were lying, Jake had no choice but to let them go. He signaled to Simmons and watched as the older officer led the group away.

All except one.

Jake swung open the door of the interrogation room
and stepped inside. Greg Banning and his parents sat huddled together. The mother looked worried, the father angry. Greg looked smug. Jake wanted to wipe the half smile off the kid’s face, but resisted temptation.

“Sorry to keep you so long. I needed to check with the other kids. See what they had to say.”

Greg Sr. stood, his sharp gaze and perfectly styled hair a testimony to his confidence. “My wife and I have a house full of guests. If we could get on with things….”

“No problem. I just have a few more questions for Greg.”

“Like I said, we’re running short on time. Are you sure this can’t be done another day?”

“Yeah. I’m sure.” Jake turned to the young man. “Nice bandanna.”

The kid raised his hand and fingered the black-and-red cloth tied around his head. “Thanks. I can get you one. Cheap. If you’re interested.”

“Shut up, Greg.” The older Banning’s voice stopped his son’s words, but not his ever widening grin.

Jake ignored the father and focused on the son. “I made a few calls. Spoke to the principal of Rigby High. He said you got kicked out your senior year. Seems you were involved in some gang activities.”

“That was never proven.” Greg Sr. interrupted, his voice harsh.

“No. It wasn’t. You moved a few months later, right? From Chicago to Richmond.”

“Job transfer. It had nothing to do with Greg.”

“Didn’t it? If I had a son involved in a gang, I’d move.”

“He wasn’t—”

“He was. Now he’s causing trouble, trying to find a way to get back to Chicago, pulling other kids into his schemes.”

“We’re on vacation. Greg is hanging with some buddies. If that’s a crime, arrest him. Otherwise, let us go.”

“Soon. So, Greg, tell me again how you were on the lake all day.”

“I took my dad’s boat out this morning. We were out on the water all day. We stopped to gas up at the marina before we went home. At least ten people saw us there.”

“You said it was close to eight when you stopped.”

“It was.”

“So you gassed up the boat and went home.”

“I’ve told you this ten times.”

“So tell me again.”

“We went home. I had the boat back at the dock by eight-fifteen.”

“You sure you weren’t on Monroe Street tonight?”

“I told you we weren’t.”

“Maybe you were bored and were looking for a little excitement.”

“There’s no excitement in this town.” Greg’s voice dripped with malice.

“So you decided to make some, right? What’d you do? Leave the marina and walk to Monroe Street? Was pushing Miss Anderson’s ladder out from under her payback? Or was it a message to Tom? A warning that he better keep his mouth shut.”

“You can’t really mean to accuse my son….” Greg Sr. shot up from the chair, nearly toppling it in his haste.

“Not accuse. Ask.”

“I told you. I was in the boat and at the marina. Not pushing some lady off a ladder.”

“I think you’re lying and I plan to prove it. When I do, there won’t be a cave in the world dark enough for you to hide in.”

“I’m not—”

“You’re free to go. But stay out of town and stay off Monroe Street. If I see you near the Anderson property, I’ll haul your butt back in here and charge you with trespassing.”

Jake left them to their misery, stalking out of the room before they could respond. They followed, whispering to each other as they moved past Jake and walked outside.

“So, did you get the kid to admit anything?” Henry Simmons spoke from beside Jake, his usual puppy dog expression replaced by one of concern.

“That
kid
is an eighteen-year-old man and he knows his rights almost as well as we do.”

“They came up with a good alibi. Be hard to prove they weren’t where they said they were.”

“Hard, but not impossible. Did you ask Bill if he saw them at the marina?”

“Everything checked out. He said they motored in around eight. Had some sodas. Filled the tank and took off twenty minutes later.”

“And he actually saw them?”

“Yeah, but it was busy and he said he’s not sure how many there were.”

“So it’s possible one or more of those kids wasn’t on the boat.”

“Looks that way.”

“But we can’t prove it. Which brings us back to square one. Our hands are tied and the punk knows it.” Jake ran a hand through his hair and fought back his frustration. “Any word on the fingerprint match from the chisel?”

“None. Like you said, back to square one. So what’s the plan?”

“Spread the word. A town the size of Lakeview is small
enough to have an effective community watch. Let’s get the citizens involved. Eventually Greg and his pals will be caught in the act. Until then we double the patrols and keep our own eyes open.”

“Will do. You finishing your shift tonight?”

“Yeah, I’ll run patrol. It should be a quiet night.”

“All right, then. If you need me, give a holler. I don’t mind working overtime.”

It was midnight when Jake drove into the hospital parking lot. He wasn’t sure why he was there. By all rights Tiffany should be asleep, tucked safe and secure in an uncomfortable hospital bed. But he needed to check on her. Needed to be sure the surgery had gone well. He didn’t question those needs, just parked the cruiser and stepped out into balmy air.

The parking lot was unnaturally still and the doors to the hospital swung open into an equally still lobby. The information desk had been abandoned hours ago, visiting hours long since over. Bypassing the silent lobby, Jake rode the elevator up to the third floor where he’d been told Tiffany had been moved.

Several nurses looked up from their work station as Jake stepped off the elevator. One smiled and moved toward him. “I’m sorry, visiting hours are over. Can I take a message for you?”

Jake flashed his own smile along with his badge. “I’m here to see Tiffany Anderson.”

The nurse nodded. “Of course. Sorry, I didn’t notice the uniform at first. She’s in 313. Straight down the hall to the left.”

A hush hung over the third-floor hallway, as if the building were holding its breath, waiting to see who would live and who would die. The contrast to the frenetic pace of the
emergency room was striking. Here no one tapped an impatient foot or uttered a weary sigh. Muted sounds of television sitcoms drifted through closed doors. Other than that, the hall was silent.

Tiffany occupied a room at the far end of the hall. Her door was closed and Jake tapped lightly.

“Come in, Mom.”

Jake wasn’t Mom but he figured he’d go in anyway. Pushing the door open, he walked into the darkened room.

“You didn’t have to knock. I think the nurse must have…” Tiffany’s voice trailed off as she realized she wasn’t speaking with her mother. “Oh, hi.”

Even in the dim light, Jake could see the surprise in Tiffany’s eyes. He didn’t blame her. He’d surprised himself with the late-night visit. “Hi.”

“I thought you were my mom.” Tiffany’s voice was weak, but not slurred as it had been earlier.

Jake took a seat in a chair that had been pulled up close to the bed. “And you’re disappointed?”

“Only because she promised me a vanilla milkshake from Dairy Queen.”

“The knock on your head hasn’t hurt your sense of humor any. How are you feeling?”

“Like I can’t talk to you like this.” Tiffany reached over and pushed a button on the bed’s rail. The bed angled up until she was almost sitting. Then she reached to drag a pillow from behind her back, wincing a little at the movement.

Jake brushed her hand away, eased the pillow out and placed it behind her head. “That better?”

“Much. Thanks.”

“You didn’t answer my question. How are you feeling?”

“Not too bad.”

Jake flipped on the overhead light and took a look for himself. Illuminated, Tiffany’s face looked even paler than it had earlier, the bruise on her head a bright slash of blue, red and black against the pallor. “Not too good either, from the looks of things.”

“I’ve had better days. Actually, I’ve had better years.”

To Jake’s horror, a tear slid down Tiffany’s cheek. “Hey, it’s not that bad, is it?”

“No. Yes.” Another tear escaped and she scrubbed it away with her uninjured hand. “I’m not sure.”

“Want to tell me about it?” Jake’s mind was shouting at him to leave, telling him he was in dangerous territory. He ignored it and grabbed Tiffany’s hand, giving it an encouraging squeeze.

“I’m just irritated with everything right now.”

Tiffany didn’t seem the type of person to get irritated easily. Jake took a shot in the dark at the cause. “What’s Dr. McMath have to say about everything?”

“
He
says if I had listened to him and not given Tom a job, none of this would have happened. According to him, I was asking for trouble and I got it.”

“He said that?”

“Not in so many words, but the implication was there.”

Jake bit his tongue to keep from expressing his opinion about the doctor.

“The worst part is, he’s right.”

Surprised, Jake met Tiffany’s tear filled gaze. “How do you figure that?”

“Everyone warned me. I refused to listen. Even
you
told me Tom was trouble. You must think I’m a fool.”

“What I think,” Jake paused, brushing away a tear that slid down the curve of Tiffany’s cheek, “is that you’re one
of the most compassionate people I’ve ever met. I also think you’re tired and hurt, and now isn’t the time for you or anyone else to second-guess the decisions you’ve made.”

Tiffany’s eyes widened, her tears drying, and a flash of humor appearing in their depths. “I’m disappointed.”

“About?”

“I thought you were going to say you think Brian is an idiot.” She smiled as she repeated words he had spoken twice before.

Laughing, Jake shook his head. “That goes without saying.”

Tiffany’s own soft laughter joined his and without conscious thought, Jake leaned in, catching the laugh with a kiss. He only meant to touch her lips with his, to feel the gentle breath of her joy, but somehow the kiss deepened and became more.

“Tiffany?” A hesitant voice sounded from the open door and Jake jerked back, his heart pounding as if he’d run a marathon. A petite woman and a tall, broad-shouldered man stood in the entrance. The woman held a carryout cup in one hand and a stack of magazines in the other. She stared at Tiffany as if she’d never seen her before.

The man’s hands were empty. His eyes were on Jake.

“Mom. Dad. Um, this is Jake Reed. The sheriff. He’s trying to find out who pushed me off the ladder.”

“It looks to me like he’s trying to do a lot more than that.” Tiffany’s father had eyes the same color as hers. Only his weren’t nearly as friendly.

“Dad!”

Jake let his gaze drift back to Tiffany for a moment. Two spots of color danced along her cheekbones as she looked at her father who, Jake noted, was still glaring daggers at him.

Mentally kicking himself for putting her in such an awk
ward position, Jake stepped forward to greet Tiffany’s parents. “Nice to meet you.”

Good manners too deeply ingrained for him to ignore the hand Jake extended, Tiffany’s father returned the greeting. “I’m Ed Anderson. This is my wife, Patti.”

“Ma’am.”

“Sheriff.” Reaching out with a small-boned hand, Patti Anderson offered her own greeting. “Tiffany told me you’ve helped her out several times recently. I’m glad to finally have the chance to thank you.”

In stature and build, Tiffany and her mother couldn’t have been more different. Still, Jake could have been in a room filled with redheads and picked out Patti as Tiffany’s mother. The two shared the same full-lipped smile and had the same flash of humor in their eyes.

Ed Anderson mumbled something under his breath. Jake couldn’t quite make out the words but thought the man might have said something about thanking him with a fist to the mouth.

Mrs. Anderson continued to smile up at Jake as she spoke sweetly to her husband. “Ed, honey, I need to speak with you for a moment. Privately.” Grabbing her husband by the arm she all but yanked him out into the hall.

Jake turned to Tiffany and had barely opened his mouth when she raised a hand and stopped him. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t even think about apologizing. It was nothing. And if we’re both lucky all the dope they gave me for pain will wipe out my memory of everything that has happened in the past twenty-four hours.”

Jake couldn’t help it. He smiled. “That bad, huh?”

“I cannot believe my father just acted like that. Did you hear what he said?”

“Which part?”

“The part about thanking you with a fist to your mouth.”

“Your father’s upset about what happened to you today. He’s feeling protective.”

“I’m thirty-three, not thirteen.” Shaking her head, Tiffany ran a hand across her eyes. Her fingers trembled slightly.

Jake placed a hand over hers, stilling the fine tremors. “You’re tired. Why don’t I turn off the light and leave you to rest? There’ll be time enough to worry about all this tomorrow.”

“My parents will be back in a minute. They’ll want to talk.” Tiffany’s protest was only a token and they both knew it.

“They’ll understand.”

Tiffany knew Jake was right. Her parents would understand. But she didn’t. One minute she’d been fine, happily measuring the gazebo. The next she was in the emergency room staring up at Brian and a bunch of nurses. From that point on, her life had spun completely out of control.