A Promise to Protect (Logan Point Book #2): A Novel Page 11

  Sunlight spilled through what was left of the roof on her grandmother’s house, all but erasing any hope for restoration. Leigh picked her way around where the kitchen had been, stepping across the smoked-over meter box that lay in a puddle of water. Water soaked everything. Most likely a total loss, the insurance adjuster had just informed her. At least there was insurance.

  She hadn’t even had to call the agent. He’d called her an hour ago at the Logans’ and arranged to meet her at the house. A benefit to living in a small town, she supposed. She would have to wait for the adjuster’s final verdict, but he predicted the house would have to be bulldozed.

  “I’m sorry, Leigh.” Ben picked up a broken mug and placed it on the water-soaked coffee table.

  She fisted her hands on her hips and surveyed the mess. The agent was right. It would be easier to build from the ground up, if she were so inclined. But she didn’t plan to be in Logan Point that long. “Any idea where I can find a place to live?”

  Ben’s back stiffened as he planted his feet. “I’d prefer that you stay where you are until the fire investigator rules whether it was arson.”

  “Oh, come on. Look at the damage. Anyone can see lightning struck the meter box. We need our own place. I don’t want to root you out of your house.”

  “You don’t get it, do you?” he asked. “You and TJ are in protective custody and will be until I know for sure this wasn’t arson and that Billy Wayne Gresham was shooting at me, not you. I don’t even know if he acted alone yet.”

  Air whooshed from her lungs. She hated it when he was right. Until she knew those same things for sure, she couldn’t put TJ in danger. “How long will the investigation take?”

  “A couple of weeks, probably.” He hesitated. “I know that I said you could move into my place, but would you consider staying where you are? It’d be easier on TJ when you’re at the hospital, and it would be easier on me. Even with Dad out of commission, it’d still be like twenty-four-hour protection with the fence, and like I’ve said before, Mom’s a crack shot if it came down to it.”

  Leigh had already reconciled herself to the fact that Marisa would be watching TJ—it wasn’t fair to involve her babysitter in their problems. And now she saw no way of leaving at all. “I guess your parents’ place would be the best.”

  “Good.” His cell phone beeped. “I need to take this,” he said and walked out the front door as he answered.

  Two weeks. That was all the time she was giving him. Her cell rang, and she glanced at her phone. The ER doctor on duty. Leigh punched the answer button. “Dr. Somerall.”

  “We have four victims en route from a wreck on Highway 7. How soon can you get here?”

  “On my way.” Leigh pocketed her phone. Thank goodness she’d followed Ben in her own car. She met him at the door. “I have to get to the hospital.”

  “I figured as much. There’s been a bad wreck, and I need to get out to the highway. I’ll follow you to the hospital, though.”

  “Ben, go. I’ll be all right. The hospital is only ten minutes away, and the wreck is in the opposite direction.”

  He hesitated. “I’ll keep you on the phone until you get inside the hospital.”

  “Whatever.”

  Four hours later, Leigh checked on the only patient from the wreck still in the ER and was pleased the teenager’s vitals had stabilized. He’d been the lucky one, only a broken leg. The other three had been assessed and helicoptered to the Med in Memphis for treatment. The trauma center offered them a better chance at survival than Bradford General. She stepped back into the hall and walked to the nurses’ station, glad to see Cathy had come on duty.

  The RN shook her head. “What were those kids thinking? Beer for breakfast?”

  “I know. Alcohol plus speed equals bad news. Kids think they’re invincible.” Leigh checked with OR and was told it’d be another hour before the kid’s leg could be set. She rolled her shoulders. “The mother is in the room with her son. Would you let her know it’ll be awhile before he goes to surgery? The hospital blood bank doesn’t have his type, so they’re waiting for units from Memphis.”

  “Has anyone asked Ben Logan or his sister to donate?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Both of them are universal donors. They have O negative blood and have given before when we have a shortage.”

  Leigh tensed. TJ had inherited his O negative blood from Ben? O negative tended to run in families, but she’d never considered . . . She took a breath and slowly released it. Nothing to worry about. No reason for Ben to find out. “Call Emily and Ben and let them know the situation. I’m going to get something to drink and sit in the sun for a minute.”

  It worried her that the hospital blood bank was so low this early in the summer. What would they do a month from now? Leigh took a bottle of tea from the refrigerator and walked through the waiting room, stopping to give an update to the boy’s father. She nodded to the guard on duty and tried to remember his name. Gary, she thought and told him she was getting a little fresh air. Outside the benches were empty, and she chose an unshaded one.

  Since the hospital had become tobacco free, the benches were usually vacant. She leaned back and closed her eyes, soaking up the midday sun. July heat did not bother her and felt good after a morning in the cold ER. A shadow blocked the sun, sending a shiver through her body. She opened her eyes, but in the bright light, could only make out a man’s outline.

  “Leigh?”

  She relaxed, recognizing Ian Maxwell’s well-modulated voice. “You startled me.”

  He sat beside her and adjusted the cuffs on his long-sleeved white shirt. “I’m sorry. I just heard about your house when someone told me you were staying at the Logans’. I—”

  The guard materialized from the entrance shadows. “Dr. Somerall, everything okay?” he asked. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you, Mr. Maxwell.”

  Leigh waved him off. “Everything’s fine, Gary.”

  Ian took a handkerchief from his pocket and blotted his face. “What was that all about?”

  “Ben thinks someone is out to get me.”

  “And you don’t?”

  She turned to look at the handsome Chief Operations Officer of Maxwell Industries. His ice-blue eyes were the only cool thing about him. Sweat glistened on his forehead and dotted his upper lip. “Would you like to go inside?” she asked. “We can talk in the break room.”

  He pressed the handkerchief to his face again. “Thank you.”

  As they walked through the automatic doors, Leigh chuckled. “You know, short sleeves would be much cooler.”

  “But not nearly as professional.”

  Inside the ER, she pointed toward the break room. “I’ll be there in a second.”

  She checked on her patient and then joined Ian, puzzled as to why he’d stopped to see her. He stood in front of the television monitor where hospital announcements scrolled at regular intervals. When he heard her enter, he turned.

  “This employee of the month . . .” He nodded toward the screen. “His son works at the plant. I wish the boy had some of his work ethic.”

  “You didn’t come all the way out to the hospital to talk about your employees.” Leigh pulled a chair away from the table and sat down. The break room was empty, but probably not for long. He smiled at her, flashing ultra white teeth—no Walmart whitening strips for him, she’d bet.

  “Very astute, Doctor,” he said as he sat in a chair across from her. “No, I came to offer you a house to live in until yours is repaired, or rebuilt, whichever the case may be . . . and to see if you will have dinner with me tonight.”

  Her breath hitched. “What?”

  Ian’s lips curved up. “Which what are you asking about, the date or the house?”

  She gave her head a small shake and took a deep breath. “Let’s start with the house.”

  “Okay. Like I said before when we came to your house after Tony died, Danny and I own rental property, and I ha
ve a couple of vacant units. A house on Webster and a condo in Hillcrest.”

  Leigh blinked and held up her hand. Both were surely way above her means. “I don’t think so. Ben probably wouldn’t allow it, anyway.”

  “The sheriff isn’t your boss or your husband, and it wouldn’t cost you a red cent. It’s the least we can do for Tony’s family.”

  Tears stung her eyelids, and she blinked them back. “Thank you. I’m touched. Can I give you an answer in a day or two, after the fire investigator’s report comes back? TJ is safe with the Logans, and as much as I’d like to be out on my own, he comes first. If it is arson, we’ll have to stay put.”

  Ian rubbed his hands together. “I’ll get the house on Webster ready—he’ll need a yard to play in.”

  “What part of wait did you not hear?”

  The gleam in his eye indicated Ian Maxwell was used to getting his way. “Would you give me your cell phone number? That way I can call you to come and look at the house when it’s ready. Even if the report should indicate arson, and I don’t believe it will, the Webster house is in a gated community with a guard 24/7.”

  Gated, and with a guard. Ben might actually give his approval. She rattled off her number, and he entered it in his phone.

  “Got it,” he said and slipped his phone in the pocket of his navy slacks. “If Ben thinks someone set the fire, does he have any clues as to who it could be?”

  “He hasn’t said. I thought when Billy Wayne Gresham died, my nightmare was over.”

  “First of all, I can almost guarantee it wasn’t you Billy Wayne was aiming at.”

  She eyed him.

  “Think about it. Tommy Ray Gresham? The Boy Scout retreat?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The Boy Scout retreat that Tommy Ray drowned at three years ago—oh, wait that’s right, you wouldn’t know anything about that. Ben was in charge of the troop, and they were camping at the lake when Tommy Ray drowned. Ben tried to save him, almost drowned himself. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, but the father, Jonas Gresham, doesn’t see it that way. He thinks Ben should’ve gone into the water sooner, and he’s been quite vocal about it.” Ian adjusted his cuffs. “And Billy Wayne felt the same way, and he was just crazy enough to try and get revenge. They both are actually.”

  He held up his hand. “I’m sorry. You don’t need to hear all of this. The offer of the house stands. Anytime you want either place, it’s yours. And now for the other question. Will you have dinner with me?”

  She swallowed, hoping to calm the storm that erupted in her chest. “I thought you were engaged.”

  “Not anymore.” His face gave no clue to his emotions on the subject. “We decided we weren’t right for each other.”

  Leigh doubted it was his ex-fiancée’s decision. She’d heard the nurses talking, taking bets as to whether this fiancée would get him to the altar. Wait until they heard the engagement was off—Ian would top any list of Logan Point’s most eligible bachelors, higher even than Ben. She crossed her arms over her chest. “You never gave me a second look in high school. Why now?”

  He laughed out loud. “I was a senior, and you were a freshman. That would’ve been robbing the cradle. Besides, you were so in love with Ben Logan, I wouldn’t have stood a chance.”

  “He didn’t know I existed.” Not in high school. That didn’t come until college. A text beeped on her cell phone. Leigh read it and said, “I have to check on my patient.”

  “Think about that dinner,” Ian called after her.

  9

  Would you put that stupid cube down?” Wade said. “Or learn how to work it.”

  Ben looked up from the Rubik’s Cube he’d bought at lunch. His deputy stood in the doorway with a drink and a Styrofoam box that reeked of fried food. “It helps me to think.”

  He set the cube on his desk and nodded toward a file cabinet. “I took a break from sorting through Dad’s files, if you can call them that. A slip of paper with numbers stuck in an unnamed folder filed under the B’s, another one with Lester jotted on it. That one was filed under D. No clue what any of it means.”

  “He definitely had a unique way of filing that made sense only to him.”

  “And no way to ask him about it. It’s a good thing Maggie kept the reports typed and printed out. I wonder if she found anything else.” He picked up his phone and dialed Maggie’s extension. “Come across any more of Dad’s files?”

  “A small box with his desk calendar, some letters, and a few emails he printed out. Looks like this stuff might’ve been on his desk. I was just fixing to bring it to you.”

  Wade set the white box on Ben’s desk and knelt beside the small cabinet, flipping through the files. He pulled one out. “Here’s a handwritten report from 1991 that says Jonas Gresham stole five hens from Lucinda Mays.”

  Maggie entered the room carrying a cardboard box. “Gresham hasn’t changed, except for the worst. I feel so sorry for Ruby. Don’t know what she ever saw in that man.” She set the box on Ben’s desk. “I think this is the last of it. I don’t know how it got up front.”

  If the sheriff’s department had an office manager, it’d be the slightly bow-legged senior with the sensible shoes. The day-dispatcher-slash-secretary had been a fixture at the department ever since Ben could remember. “Thanks, Maggie. I don’t know how we’d run this office without you. Hope you’re not planning on retiring anytime soon.”

  “And do what?” She put her hand on her hip. “Besides, this place can’t run without me.”

  “You got that right.” Wade opened the Styrofoam box and held it out to her. “Want a hamburger from Molly’s Diner? I have three.”

  Maggie eyed the food. “You sure?”

  “Yeah. Ben can have the other one, if he wants it.”

  “I’ll take it to my office,” she said as Wade settled in a chair beside Ben’s desk and handed him a burger.

  Ben checked to make sure it had mustard before he chomped into it. “Why can’t I get the squares lined up?”

  Wade grabbed the cube and twisted it, his fingers moving too fast for Ben to see the turns. In a little over a minute, all six sides were solid colors. “You mean like that?”

  “Yeah.” Ben rocked back in his leather chair.

  The chief deputy set the cube back on the desk. “I look at it, and my brain sees how it fits together. That’s all I can tell you.” He took a sip of drink.

  A lot of people thought Wade was just a good ole country boy, long on friendliness but short on intelligence. Ben knew better. “Why do you let people think you’re dumb?” he asked as he crumpled the hamburger wrapper and tossed it into the empty container.

  Wade lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. “Gives me an advantage. Besides, I learned when I was a kid in foster homes that people are going to believe what they want to. Truth doesn’t matter—they’ll go with what they think they see every time.”

  Ben turned back to his computer. “If you’d tried to change some minds, you’d probably be sheriff instead of me.”

  A harsh snort erupted from deep in Wade’s throat. “Now you’re playing me for dumb. You’re the sheriff’s son. No way for it to go down other than the way it played out. And when you take that job with the U.S. Marshals, the county supervisors will pick somebody besides me to take your place until the election.”

  “I’m not going with the Marshals. I’ve decided to run for sheriff. Filed the paperwork last week.”

  Wade’s feet hit the floor as he sat up straight. “You’re kidding. What changed your mind?”

  Ben glanced around the office, still his dad’s office in his mind. Would always be Dad’s office, even if Ben painted the gray walls and took down the pictures and plaques with Tom Logan’s name on them. “Being sheriff is a lot different from being a deputy under my dad’s eye. I still second-guess myself, but at least he’s not here to say ‘I told you so.’”

  “Your dad never in his life said those words.”

  “Yeah?
Well, he was thinking them.”

  “Come on, Ben, your dad might like to keep everything and everyone under his thumb, but he isn’t vindictive. How is he, anyway?”

  “I think not being able to communicate is getting to him. He tries to talk, but it comes out garbled. And he won’t work with the speech therapist.”

  “It’s only been six months, and he had a lot of healing to do. At least he’s not a paranoid schizophrenic, like my mom.”

  “He goes absolutely nuts if I forget and wear my gun around him.”

  “It’s not the same thing.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” Wade had been seeing after his mother ever since Ben could remember. First when she was in the state hospital, and now at an expensive care facility just outside of town. He figured all of Wade’s money went to keep her there.

  Wade eyed him. “I know the real reason you’re passing up the U.S. Marshals’ job. It’s Leigh Somerall and her kid.”

  Heat flushed him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yeah, you do. You were sweet on her once before, and now that she’s back in Logan Point, you want to hang around here.”

  “How do you even remember we dated? That was ten years ago.”

  “Yeah, but you were working here that summer and mooning over her like a love-struck puppy.” Wade doodled on the desk calendar on Ben’s desk. “You let her get away that time. And if you’re not interested, I am.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding. You’re too old for her. Besides, you’d never take on the responsibility of someone else’s kid.”

  “And you would, Mr. Date-them-three-times-and-drop-them? For the record, I’m forty-one, only ten years older than the doc. Hardly ready for the grave.” Wade eyed him. “I don’t think I’ve seen you with anyone lately. Is it because of the doctor?”