Thirty-One and a Half Regrets (14 page)

“Sloan was the bartender.”

He looked up again, his eyes wide. “Sloan Chapman?”

“Yeah, just one more coincidence that dug me even deeper into the whole mess. I’d never had wine before, so I had no idea what to order. He was really sweet and helped me figure it out. Then Daniel Crocker came in. He’d seen me in the restaurant with my date, but he didn’t recognize me because I had a different hairstyle and was wearing makeup. I looked different. Still, he said he knew he’d seen me somewhere, and it was driving him crazy that he couldn’t place me.” I paused, taking a breath. “Sloan saw Crocker hitting on me and came over to intervene. He told Crocker that I was his sister and to back off. Crocker did, but he wasn’t happy about it.”

Mason looked up. “Do you realize the risk Sloan took defending you?”

I nodded, tears in my eyes. “He was shot a few days later, after Crocker came back to the DMV and figured out who I was. He had been looking for me every day while I was off for Momma’s funeral. He figured out that Sloan wasn’t my brother, and then he asked me if he was an undercover cop. I was horrified and told him no. But I didn’t know anything then. I had no idea that Sloan was working with the state police. I got him killed.” My voice broke. “I’ve lived with the guilt of that ever since.”

“Rose. It wasn’t your fault. You had no way of knowing.”

I shook my head. “The next time I saw Crocker was at Sloan’s visitation. That was the night that I had another vision of myself dead. It was also when I finally figured out why he was interested in me: He thought I was the DMV informant with a flash drive of information. He told me to meet him the next night at The Trading Post at 10:00 p.m. and bring him the flash drive. But I was clueless about what was supposed to be on it.”

Mason kept his eyes on the legal pad. “The report says you went and gave him a flash drive with false information, and then Joe showed up and helped you escape out the back window. That’s pretty skimpy.” He looked up again. “What else happened that night?”

“Why do you think something else happened?”

His face hardened. “Crocker has a…reputation.”

I hesitated. “When Joe realized I really wasn’t part of the whole mess, he drove me to my car, which was still at the funeral home, and gave me the fake flash drive. The reason I agreed to meet with Crocker was that I was trying to save Violet—Crocker had put a photo of her under my door to remind me what was at stake.” I swallowed and looked toward Mason’s shiny stainless steel refrigerator. “He’d expressed an interest in how I was dressed at the funeral home the night before, so I wore a low-cut shirt and tried to dress sexy, hoping to distract him from the fact that I didn’t have what he wanted. When Joe gave me the flash drive, he told me I had the right idea but warned me not to let Crocker get me into bed. He was known to be…rough.”

Mason continued writing, his knuckles turning white from his strong grip on the pen.

“When I showed up, Crocker seemed eager to show me how interested he was in me. After his men did a quick check of the flash drive and it passed, Crocker insisted on celebrating with tequila shots.”

I heard Mason’s pen scribbling.

“After the first three shots and some sloppy kissing, I excused myself to the bathroom to throw up. Joe was in there waiting for me. He told me to go back out and said that he’d help me escape the next time. So I did three more shots with Crocker, with some kissing in between, and then I went to the bathroom to throw up again. And I escaped with Joe.”

Mason scribbled down several more lines and then looked up, expressionless. “And when did you see Crocker again?”

“The next day. After we left The Trading Post, Joe took me to his house and hid me in his attic. Crocker’s men showed up, but Joe swore he hadn’t helped me, that he’d been home alone all night. They said they’d kill him if he was lying. When Joe went off the morning of the big bust, I had a vision of him getting shot, but he insisted he’d be fine and that I needed to stay in his house until it was done.

“Instead, I chased Muffy behind Joe’s house. While I was out there, Crocker’s men showed up and busted Joe’s door down and found my shoes in his house. The ones I’d been wearing the night before. I knew my vision was going to come true, so Muffy and I stole Miss Mildred’s car and drove out there with a gun that Joe had planted in my shed. We broke in the back of Crocker’s warehouse. Muffy and I hid in a storage room until Crocker came storming out of his office, demanding that Joe tell him where I was. So I rushed out and told Crocker that Joe had nothing to do with it. I said I’d left on my own because I was looking for a real man.”

Mason stopped writing and looked up at me wide-eyed.

“What?” I shrugged. “I had to come up with something.”

He still didn’t say anything.

“Crocker was going to shoot me, but I told him he should prove he was a real man before killing me, so he dragged me up the stairs to the office.”

Mason kept watching me, expressionless.

“When a commotion broke out downstairs, I bit his lip and he stumbled backward, then I pulled out my gun and shot him in the leg. But Joe heard the gunshot and ran upstairs with Muffy. She attacked Crocker and he started hitting her. I had to make him stop, so I picked up a geode off his desk and threw it at his head, knocking him out. Joe tied him up with a light cord, and then the state police took him away.”

Mason was silent for several seconds. “Do you know what his unfinished business is?”

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. “I have a good idea.”

“They’re going to catch him,” he said, his eyes focused on the gun on the counter. “The sheriff’s office and the state police are canvassing the county right now. Maybe he’ll realize that stalking you isn’t worth getting caught, but that’s what a sane person would do. Crocker is a psycho. You can’t go home.”

“What am I supposed to do? I don’t want to stay with Violet.”

He shook his head. “No. You’d only put her in danger, anyway. The sheriff’s office wants to put you into witness protection.”

“But what about my landscaping job? How long will I be gone?”

“As long as it takes. I suspect they’ll try to flush him out, but Crocker is smart, so he might realize that you’re not really at your house.”

“Where will I stay if I can’t go home and I can’t go to Violet’s?”

“You can stay with me until they find a safe place for you. We’re outside Henryetta city limits, which is why the undercover sheriff’s deputy who followed us is watching my condo.”

“So why can’t I just stay with you until it’s over?”

“Because I have to go to work, and even though the deputy can stay with you while I’m gone, it would be too obvious. Crocker and his men would find you in no time. We need to keep you hidden.”

“But how long will it take to catch him?”

“Hopefully they’ll be able to flush him out in a day or two. But I don’t want to take any chances. It needs to be somewhere outside of Henryetta city limits but still in Fenton County.”

Suddenly the answer came to me, so obvious that I felt blind for not seeing it before. “My birth mother’s farm.”

His mouth parted. “Where is it?”

“About thirty minutes out of town. My Uncle Earl has kept it up. When I asked him about it a week ago, he told me he’s been paying the electric and gas bills with my trust. He said the water comes from a well.”

“Who else knows about it?”

“Uh…” I wrinkled my brow as I counted. “Violet, of course. And her husband, Mike. Joe. Jonah. Neely Kate and my aunt and uncle. But only my aunt and uncle know where it is. Like I told you yesterday, I haven’t been out there yet.”

“And who knows about the existence of your birth mother?”

“The same people. No one else. Well, except for you, of course.”

“This could be good. It’s a secret and it’s remote. Give me the address and I’ll have the deputies check it out.”

“So I’ll just hide out at the farm?”

“If the sheriff thinks it’s a good idea, then, yeah. With sheriff’s deputies there to guard you.”

Even though I’d been the one to suggest the farm, I was having second thoughts. What if I was stuck there for days or even weeks? “I suppose I was going on Sunday anyway,” I said.

“
We
were going on Sunday.”

I smiled at him. “We.” We’d only made those plans two days ago, but it seemed like weeks. A new worry hit me. “Unless you changed your mind.”

He looked incredulous. “Why would I have changed my mind?”

I looked down at the table. “I don’t know…last night you couldn’t keep your hands off me and now you’re acting like Mr. Assistant DA. Maybe you decided I’m too much drama. Joe considered breaking up with me last July after the whole Bruce Wayne and Jimmy DeWade mess. Maybe you’ve decided to escape while you still can.”

“Is that what you think?” he asked in disbelief. “You think this has become too intense and I’ve changed my mind?”

I looked up into his face. “I wouldn’t blame you.”

He shook his head. “Come here.” He reached over and grabbed my wrist, pulling me around the side of the table and into his lap, wrapping an arm around the small of my back. He looked up at me with a soft smile. “Are you forgetting how we met? You were like this tornado that swept into the courthouse with the sole intent of throwing my entire life off its axis. I knew you were a pack of trouble the moment I laid eyes on you. And when you stood in front of me, completely lopsided because of your broken heel, and verbally berated my lack of manners, threatening to hunt down my mother and tattle on me, I knew I could search to the ends of the earth and never find another woman like you.”

I cringed. “I was horrid.”

“I deserved every word you unleashed.”

“Mason, I’m like a magnet for trouble. Joe hated it.”

“Joe’s an imbecile. And lucky for me that he is.” He kissed me softly and I sighed into his lips. Even in this situation, with Daniel Crocker after me, I felt safe with Mason. Cherished.

I turned to face him better, grabbing the sides of his head and holding him in place in case he changed his mind.

But my actions ignited something in him and he slid his hands under my T-shirt and up my back, setting my skin on fire.

Mason groaned and grabbed my shoulders, pulling me back. “I didn’t touch you because I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop once I started. As much as I want you, it’s more important for me to make sure you’re safe. And if I’m the one in charge of protecting you, I’ll do a shitty job of it, because when I’m kissing you a damn nuclear bomb could go off and I wouldn’t even notice.”

“Oh.” I could see his point. “So does that mean you’re not going to kiss me?”

His eyes watched my mouth. “I don’t see how I can be this close to you without kissing you, but we can’t get too carried away. At least not until we get you somewhere safe, somewhere with a real protection detail.”

“Then why are we still here?”

He laughed and when he kissed me again, I could see what he meant about a nuclear bomb going off. There was a knock at the door, but the sound didn’t register until Mason set me on the ground and reached for his gun.

“Why are you getting your gun? Do you really think Daniel Crocker would knock on the door?”

“I wouldn’t put anything past that mental case.” He checked the chamber. “Now go hide in the bathroom. It doesn’t have any windows.”

The blood fled my head. “You’re serious.”

He looked down at me, determination squaring his jaw. “I’m dead serious. Now go.”

“No! What if it’s him and he shoots you?” Panic made my voice tighten.

His face softened. “Rose, no one’s going to shoot me. It’s probably Jeff. He told me he was going to come by after he checked out the crime scene, but I don’t want to take any chances, okay?” The pounding grew louder. “Now, go.” He pointed to a partially open door under the staircase.

I did as he asked, mostly because I didn’t know what else to do. I went inside and he pulled the door to the powder room shut on his way to the windowless front door. I sat on the toilet lid, my ears straining to hear what was happening while I studied his décor. It was all sleek and shiny with chrome and dark wood with straight lines. His living room and kitchen were the same—stainless steel and granite counters, contemporary looking sofa and chairs with glass tables. I couldn’t imagine a house more different from mine.

“Come on in, Jeff.” Mason’s voice filtered through the bathroom door. Then the door opened and his face appeared in the crack. “It’s safe.”

I stood and he pushed the door open, taking my hand and pulling me into the hall. “Rose, you remember Chief Deputy Dimler?”

“Have you heard anything about Bruce Wayne?”

He ran a hand over his head. “I confess that we haven’t. Once we got word that Crocker wasn’t in the warehouse in Shreveport, we had to regroup and focus all our attention on that. It’s why I’m here.”

Mason gestured to his living room and we sat on the sofa while the deputy took the chair across from us, leaning forward.

Mason put his arm around my back and the gesture drew Chief Deputy Dimler’s attention. “I’m sure you can appreciate that I have a personal interest in Rose’s safety,” Mason said, tightening his grip.

A frown flickered on his face before it metamorphosed into a grin. “I can see that. I didn’t realize you were dating. You never mentioned it.”

“We just started dating recently,” Mason said, then cast a glance at me as though asking permission after the fact.

I gave him a soft smile.

He turned back to his friend. “What do you know?”

“We don’t have confirmation on the prints yet, so we don’t know for sure that Crocker was the one in Rose’s house, but someone obviously was. For all we know, it could have been one of his boys.”

“How’d they get in?”

“The back window. The Henryetta Police swore they were parked in front of your house, Rose, after we notified them at three this morning, but they wouldn’t have seen anyone who came in that way.”

“So what’s your plan?” Mason asked.

“Whether this was Crocker or one of his guys, the fact that someone was in her house while she was asleep is a huge concern.”