Protector

The truce was over, just that quickly. He saw Bobby’s white, dead face, the track marks down his arms from drug abuse. Bobby had died of an overdose. Minette didn’t know that she was involved in that death. He wanted to tell her. He wanted her to know. But in the end, he heard his father’s voice, and his own promise, and he couldn’t do it.

Minette grimaced. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m really, really sorry.”

He averted his eyes. He started eating again and didn’t say another word.

Minette went out and closed the door behind her, gritting her teeth. Of all the stupid, stupid things to say! She could have pinched herself. Just when they were getting along, she had to drag up a bitter memory and hit him in the face with it.

“That’s the way, Minette,” she muttered to herself, “ruin everything, why don’t you?”

Aunt Sarah glanced at her as she came into the kitchen. “Talking to yourself again,” she observed. “Men with nets are lurking.”

She waved her hand. “They’d never catch me. I’d throw down a couple of homemade, buttered rolls and they’d kill themselves fighting over them.”

Sarah laughed with delight. “That’s true enough, sweet,” she agreed. “You really can cook. How’s Hayes?” she added.

“Mad,” Minette sighed, perching against the counter. “I mentioned why he hated drugs and the truce went over the hill.”

Sarah grimaced.

“Me and my big mouth,” Minette said heavily. “I just never know when to keep it shut, do I?”

“He won’t believe the truth, after all this time, will he?” she asked.

Minette shook her head. “I don’t know why he hates me so much.”

Neither did Sarah. But she was older than Minette and she’d heard enough gossip to have a faint idea of what might be the problem. She didn’t have the heart to share that information with Minette, however. Some secrets should never be told.

Minette frowned at the guilty expression on her great-aunt’s face. “What do you know, Aunt Sarah?”

“Me?” Sarah acted for all she was worth. “What do you mean, child?”

The innocent act worked. Minette couldn’t see through it. “Sorry,” she replied. “I’m just edgy.”

“I know.” She was somber. “Somebody wants Hayes dead. I hope they can find out who, before they try again.”

“Yancy Dean is one of the best investigators we’ve ever had,” Minette reminded her. “He came out here from Dade County, Florida, and a Miami cop is no slouch.”

“I agree.”

“Besides, Zack Tallman could dig information out of a dry turnip. The pair of them are almost invincible.”

“I heard something today.”

Minette moved closer. “What?”

“Yancy went to see Cash Grier.”

Minette sat down at the table with the older woman. “I know. He’s trying to find out who the shooter was.”

Sarah leaned forward, as if the walls themselves had ears. “Cash still has contacts in covert ops. He knows where to find out things. If it’s local talent, he’ll ferret it out, Yancy says.”

“Yancy’s sharp.”

“Yes. So is Zack,” Sarah agreed. “You mark my words, it’s this drug cartel that’s responsible. Somehow, Hayes is in the middle of a turf war.”

“He catches crooks. It’s an unpopular profession.”

Sarah nodded. “And he takes chances, honey.”

Minette’s black eyes were sad. “I noticed. This is his third gunshot wound. Sooner or later, he’s going to get one they can’t fix.”

“It’s so odd, too, isn’t it?” Sarah asked, thinking aloud. “I mean, Dallas Carson never got shot even once, and he was sheriff here for twenty years. We’ve never had a police chief take a bullet, either. But Hayes gets hit three times.”

Minette frowned. “Maybe it’s just bad luck.”

“It’s indifference,” Sarah said quietly. “He doesn’t care if he dies.”

Minette’s face went pale. She tried to hide it, but the older woman knew her too well.

Sarah laid a hand over Minette’s. “He’s alone. Well, except for this time, when he needed family around him, and he had nobody. He hasn’t had a family since his father died. He lost his mother when Bobby was in high school, then he lost Bobby. Dallas had a heart attack. So now there’s just Hayes. He has no girlfriend, no close relatives, nobody. It’s almost Thanksgiving, too, which reminds him that he’s all by himself in the world.”

“He’s independently wealthy,” Minette inserted.

“What good is money in the middle of the night when you’re totally alone and nobody cares what happens to you?” Sarah asked gently.

Minette frowned.

“Hayes doesn’t have a reason to care if he lives or dies,” the other woman said in a lowered voice. “He loves his job. Of course he does. But he’s fearless because he has nothing to lose, don’t you see?”

Minette had never understood Hayes’s penchant for walking into the jaws of death. She thought it was just cold courage. But what Sarah said made sense.

“You’ve got me and Shane and Julie,” Sarah persisted. “We’re your family and we love you. Who loves Hayes?”

Minette bit her tongue. She wasn’t going to start making confessions. Not now.

But Sarah knew. She’d always known. She’d seen Minette crying her eyes out when Hayes had carved up her heart with vicious accusations after Bobby’s death. She’d watched Minette go from a bright and bubbly teenager to an old woman in the months after Bobby’s overdose. Hayes had been relentless in pursuit of his brother’s killer, and his trail led straight to Minette.

Sarah had never understood why. Minette wasn’t a drug user. She never put a foot out of line, ever. But somehow Hayes convinced himself that she was the guilty party and treated her accordingly. It was odd that Hayes would end up convalescing here, when he’d made a career of hating Minette.

“Sarah?” Minette interrupted her thoughts.

“Sorry. I was just thinking about how long Hayes has blamed you for something you never even did,” Sarah replied quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yes. So am I. But it won’t do any good. Hayes will never change his mind. He knows that Ivy Conley York’s sister Rachel supplied the drugs that Bobby overdosed on. She even left a confession of sorts when she died. He knows that Brent and Ella Walsh, Keely York’s parents, gave the uncut cocaine to Rachel deliberately for Bobby. But even that hasn’t made a dent in his attitude toward me.” She rested her chin on her propped hands. “Sometimes I think hating me is a habit he doesn’t want to give up. So he finds excuses to justify his dislike.”

“It’s so wrong.”

Minette smiled. “Hayes is stubborn.” She toyed with an orange silk flower in the fall arrangement on the dining room table. “I do wish he’d stop walking into bullets, though. For a mortal enemy, he’s got class.”

Sarah chuckled. “A noble enemy.”

“Absolutely.” She looked at her watch. “Well, I’ve got some research to do on the web, so I’d better get to it. You’ll be all right here with Hayes?” she added, and couldn’t help her worried expression.

“Zack and Yancy will be here in the morning,” Sarah reminded her. “They have guns. Big guns.”

“Hayes has a big gun. It didn’t do him much good on his porch, though, did it?” she asked ruefully.

Sarah had to agree. “Anyway, I keep the doors locked and you will be in the house. We can use the phone to call the sheriff’s office.” Her eyes twinkled. “I hear the sheriff here is very efficient.”

“So are his deputies.” Minette sighed. “What a mess.” She ran her fingers through her long blond hair and grimaced. “I ought to cut my hair,” she muttered. “It takes so much work to keep it clean and brushed!”

“Don’t you dare!” Sarah exclaimed. “It’s so beautiful. How many years would it take for you to grow it that long again?”

Minette grimaced. “A lot, I suppose.” She got up and kissed Sarah’s forehead. “I’m going to the den. Call me if the kids act up. Julie’s having trouble sleeping, again.”

“She’s having some problems at kindergarten,” Sarah said and then bit her lip. “Oh, dear,” she added when she saw her great-niece’s expression. “I didn’t mean to blurt that out.”

Minette sat back down. “What sort of problems?” she asked curtly.

Sarah tried not to tell, but that stare wore her down. “One of the other girls makes fun of her, because she’s slow.”

“She’s slow because she’s methodical when she’s doing things,” Minette said. “I’ll have a talk with Miss Banks.”

“That might be wise. Miss Banks is a nice woman. She taught grammar school for a long time, before she started teaching in kindergarten.”

“I know.” She leaned forward. “She taught me in grammar school!”

Sarah laughed. “Did she? I’d forgotten.”

“I hadn’t. I’ll speak with her tomorrow.”

“Good idea.”

“Poor Julie,” Minette said. “I was picked on in school, too.” She made a face. “There should be a special place in the hereafter just for bullies,” she said darkly.

“Well, a lot of them just need standing up to,” Sarah replied. “Sometimes they have terrible problems of their own and they’re making trouble to call attention to themselves. Others are insecure and shy and don’t know how to interact with other people. And some...”

“...some are just plain mean,” Minette interrupted curtly.

“Well, there’s that, too.” Sarah laughed suddenly.

“What’s funny?”

“I was remembering what you did to your own little problem in middle school,” Sarah said with a twinkle in her eyes. “I believe liver and onions and ketchup and rice were involved...?”

“Well, she shouldn’t have made me mad in the cafeteria at lunch, should she?” Minette chuckled. “Big mistake.”

“Took the wind out of her sails, that did. She was nice to you after you took her down a few inches in front of her girlfriends.”

“She had a mother dying of cancer and her brother had just been arrested for stealing a car,” Minette replied quietly. “I thought she was the nastiest girl I’d ever met. But her father was a drunk and she didn’t have anybody at home who cared about her. She was scared.” She smiled. “I didn’t know all that at the time, of course.”

“How did you find out?”

“She got cancer herself, a few months ago,” Minette replied quietly. “She sent me an email and apologized for how she’d treated me when we were kids. She wanted me to forgive her.” Minette bit her lower lip. “I spent years hating her for what she did.”

“What did you say?”

“Of course I forgave her. She’s on her way to recovery, but it will be a long road.” She smiled sadly. “The things we learn years after it’s too late to do any good.”

“I guess we really never know other people.”

Minette nodded. “And we judge without knowing.”

“Nobody’s perfect.”

“Least of all, me,” Minette said. She got up again. “With that in mind, it might not hurt to find out a little something about Julie’s enemy.”

Sarah smiled. “Nice thought. And if she’s just mean...?”

“Well, then, I’ll talk to her parents, won’t I?” Minette laughed.

Sarah just nodded.

* * *

Minette hadn’t wanted to revisit those old memories, but they were relentless. It was hard being a child. Without maturity and experience, how could the victim of bullying know how to cope? Schools promised aid, but some people were reluctant to involve themselves in situations of conflict.

Minette sat down at her desk and turned on her computer. So often, children never experienced that happy childhood of which so many novels spoke. Probably, she considered, childhood had more relation to the painful world of Charles Dickens than to a happy cartoon movie that always ended well.

Ironically the first news tidbit she pulled up dealt with a child whose relentless persecution had led to suicide. Minette bit her lip. How horrible, to let things get to that point. But many children were reluctant to tell their parents or caregivers about such situations.

Her own ordeal had lasted for two years. She recalled it with bitterness, even on the heels of the apology that had come so unexpectedly. The experience had ruined school for her, despite the kindness of her few friends. She looked back on those so-called carefree days not with joy, but with sadness.

But, she reminded herself, those days were long gone for her. Now, she had to do for Julie what she couldn’t do for herself.

She looked up the contact information for Miss Banks and started composing an email.

* * *

Hayes was sitting up in bed, looking very pale and gaunt when Minette went up to check on him before she took the kids to kindergarten and grammar school, respectively.

“Oh, dear,” she said worriedly.

He grimaced. “I’m okay,” he said. “Just a little dizzy.”

She moved to the bed and touched his forehead. “You’ve got a fever.” She pulled out her cell phone and called Copper Coltrain. She filled him in on Hayes’s condition and Copper said he’d come out to the house as soon as he got his own kids to school.

“Thanks, Copper,” she said.

“All in a day’s work,” he replied. “Lou can fill in for me until I get to the office. Don’t worry about Hayes,” he added. “Sometimes we have these little setbacks. He’ll be fine. I won’t let him die.”

Minette laughed softly. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure.” He hung up.

“No need to look so worried,” Hayes told her when she put the phone away. “I’m tougher than I look.”

“I know that. But I don’t like losing houseguests.”

He smiled through the discomfort. “I’m not dying. I’m just sick. Damn, it hurts.”

She pulled out the meds and gave him what was prescribed. “Copper’s coming by to see you.”

“He’ll fix me right up.”

She glared at the prescription bottle. “This antibiotic always works for me.”

“I have an odd constitution and I’m funny about drugs,” he said wearily. “Copper will work it out. But thanks for calling him.”

“Sure. I’ll check back with Aunt Sarah later.”

He nodded. “Be careful. It’s wet out and the roads get treacherous after a rain.”

“I know.” She smiled. “I’ll see you later. Hope you feel better.”

“Thanks. Me, too.”

He closed his eyes. She left him there, but not without misgivings and a lot of worry.

Chapter 4

Minette had her day planned. Interviews in the morning, pick Julie up at kindergarten at one, bring her home, then back to school to talk to Julie’s teacher. Then, at three, she would go back to the elementary school to get Shane.

But that wasn’t the way it played out...

When she finished the first interview, with a local politician who was thinking about entering the mayor’s race, she had a phone call.

“Miss Raynor?” a deep, faintly accented voice inquired.

“Yes?”

“I have a message for your houseguest.”

“Who is this?” she asked belligerently.

“My name is not important. Please tell Sheriff Carson that a more accurate marksman is being engaged.”

He hung up.

Minette stared at the phone, but she didn’t hang it up. She pulled out her cell phone and called Zack. She explained the phone call she’d just received and asked if he could have the telephone company run a trace. He agreed to try and hung up.

Bill Slater stuck his head in the door. “Trouble?” he asked.

She sighed. Her managing editor looked capable of standing there all day unless she told him. “I think whoever hired the attempt on Sheriff Carson just called me,” she confided. “He had a message for Hayes. They’re hiring a better shot,” she said coldly.

“Well, that’s brassy,” Bill replied.

She nodded. She felt sick to her stomach. They couldn’t watch Hayes night and day. And a good sniper was invisible.

“Zack’s good,” he reminded her. “So is Yancy.”

“I wonder if we know anybody in the mob,” she wondered aloud. “Fight fire with fire?” she mused with a laugh.

“Bite your tongue. Hayes will lock you up for just suggesting it.”

She sighed. “No doubt.” She worried her hair. “It’s got to be connected with the turf war,” she added. “Hayes interfered. They don’t like that.”

“Tell me about it. Our recently departed ace reporter almost got you killed and us burned alive with his unmasking of the rougher elements of the drug trade,” he added darkly. “I could have punched him. Insolent little toad.”

“He wasn’t so bad,” she replied with a sad smile. “At least he had the guts to dig out the bare facts of the conflict.”

“And almost got us killed,” Bill repeated. “If it hadn’t been for some quick work by the fire department, and then Chief Grier, who found the perp, we’d both be toast.”

“That’s the truth.” She pursed her lips. “You know what, I think I’ll wander over to the police department and have a word with Chief Grier.” She got up, and pushed her chair toward her desk. “You’ll need to have Jerry prompt the florist about that display ad they want—we can’t wait too long on the copy.”

“I’ll tell Jerry to sit on them.”

She made a face at him. “Don’t sit too hard. We’re hurting for advertising.”

“So I’ll stand on street corners and sell great package deals,” he chuckled.

“I don’t think it would help. But it’s a kind thought. I’ll be back when I can. Call if you need me.”

He nodded.

* * *

Cash Grier was intimidating, even to a woman whose job it was to interview all sorts of personalities. He seemed very businesslike and unapproachable. He was tall and dark, with a handsome face and intelligent black eyes. He’d been married for a couple of years to a former movie star, and they had a little girl. Tippy Grier’s young brother also lived with them.

“What can I do for you?” Cash asked when she perched forward on a chair in front of his massive cluttered desk.

She was staring at piles of paper haphazardly stacked on either side of a cleaned-off spot.

He gave her a haughty look. “I’ll have you know that those files are logically stacked in priority of need. I myself went through each one with no assistance from my secretary who doesn’t know how to file anything!” he added, raising his voice so that the demure, dark-haired young woman in the outer office could hear him through the half-open door.

“Lies,” came a lilting voice in answer.

“I can’t even find the menu for Barbara’s Café!” he shot back.

With a resounding sigh, the young woman walked through the door, dark-haired, slender and neatly dressed in jeans and a blue T-shirt with a knee-length sleeved sweater over it. “There,” she said, putting the menu neatly on his desk. She glared at him. “And the files would be in order, sir, if you’d just let me do my job...”

“Those are secret and important files,” he pointed out in his deep voice. “Which should not be the subject of local gossip.”

“I never gossip,” she replied blandly.

“You do so,” he retorted. “You told people all over town that I carry a sidearm!”

The secretary looked at Minette, rolled her eyes and went back out again.

Minette was distracted. She stared at Cash Grier curiously. Their very few meetings had been businesslike and brief, mostly when she interviewed him about criminal investigations—and there had only been a handful lately.

“I have trouble getting good help,” he said with an angelic smile.

“I’m the best help you’ve ever had, sir, because I can spell and type and answer the phone!”

“Well, you can’t do them all at once, Carlie, now can you?” he shot back.

There was a muttered sound, followed by the muted one of fingers on a computer keyboard.

“What can I do for you?” Cash asked belatedly.

“It’s about Sheriff Carson,” Minette replied.

“Yes. We’re working with his department to find out who shot him, although frankly, it’s causing some headaches.”

She nodded. “I just had a call from someone who said the next person they send would be a better shot. That’s just a summary. I brought the recording with me.” She took out a small cassette and put it on the desk. “We routinely record all our calls. We’ve had some issues in the past.”

“Yes, when someone tried to firebomb your office, I remember. He’s doing five to ten up in state prison, one of the few arsonists who ever got convicted.” Cash took out a small device from his desk drawer, inserted the tape Minette had brought and played it with his eyes shut. He did that again. He opened his eyes. “Northern Mexico,” he murmured, thinking aloud. “But with a hint of Mexico City. A native speaker. Calling from somewhere near a highway.”

“You got all that from a few words?” Minette asked, impressed.

He nodded, all business. “I still have a few skills left over from the old days, and I’ve dealt with telephone threats before. This is gloating, pure and simple. He thinks he’s too smart to be caught.” His eyes narrowed. “Hayes still at your place?”

“Yes,” she said. “He’s resisting attempts at rehabilitation and pretending that he doesn’t need all that nonsense.” She sighed. “He may never leave, at this rate.”

He got up from the desk, towering over her. “I’ll go out and have a talk with him,” he said. “I’ve been in his situation a few times. It might help. Mind if I hold on to that tape?”

“No. And if we get any more calls, I’ll bring them to you.” She hesitated. “I have two little kids living in my house, not to mention my elderly great-aunt,” she began.

“And you’re wondering how safe they are,” he replied. He smiled gently. “I’ll take care of that. No worries. You just save the world one article at a time.”

She laughed. “Okay.”

He walked her out. Carlie looked up from her desk with shimmering green eyes.

“The mayor called,” she told Cash. “He wants to know if you’re coming to the city council meeting.”

“No.”

“I’ll tell him.”

“I’ll tell you what to tell him...” Cash began heatedly.

She held up a hand. “Please. My father is a minister.”

Cash made a face at her and walked Minette to the front door. “I’ll see what I can do to motivate Hayes.” He hesitated. “Has he still got that huge reptile?”

Minette nodded.

“Is it living with you, too?” he asked with a grin.

She laughed. “No. I’m not going to be lunch for any enormous holdover from the dinosaur age,” she promised him.

* * *

Later, at Minette’s house, Cash was less humorous. Hayes had received a call, also.

“The coward was bragging about his marksman’s skill. He said that I moved or I’d be dead now,” Hayes muttered.

“Good thing you did move,” Cash replied. He drew in a breath. “I gather you’ve had the number checked out already?”

Hayes gave him a long-suffering look, and Cash laughed.

“Yes. It was a cell phone that’s no longer in service. Probably one of those throwaway types. We traced a call one of the cartel mules placed from our jail the day before I was shot. Same story.”

Cash nodded. “We’ve dealt with our share of those,” he agreed. He leaned forward in the chair he was occupying beside Hayes’s bed. “Lawmen make enemies,” he added. “But this is an exceptional one. Do you have any idea who’s behind the assassination attempt?”

Hayes nodded. “My investigator dug out a privileged little piece of dark information about a month ago. He was able to tie the death of a border agent with the one they call El Ladrón.”

“The thief,” Cash translated. He laughed. “How appropriate.”

“His men don’t call him that,” Hayes said. “Only his enemies.”

“We can only hope that he has enough of those to help bring him down.”

“He has one major enemy who’s fighting him for control of Cotillo,” Hayes said. “A reclusive, very dangerous leader of a South American cartel making inroads into the Mexican drug trade.”

“This reclusive drug trader, do we know who he is?”

Hayes nodded. “The son of an American heiress who ran away with a charming but deadly Mexican gang leader. He used his mother’s money to avenge his father, who was killed by agents of El Ladrón.”

“Deeper and deeper,” Cash mused.

“It gets worse.” Hayes’s jaw was taut with stress. His dark eyes narrowed. “This reclusive drug lord has ties to our country in a way that could cause some very harsh problems locally.”