The Sheriff's Secret. Julie Anne Lindsey
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said. “Do you know why I’m here?” He examined Carl slowly for signs of a weapon.
Carl blinked long and slow, scrubbing calloused hands over his thick brown hair. “Was there an accident on the road?”
“No, sir.” West took a more relaxed stance, but kept the distance. “You want to tell me why you aren’t at work?”
“I had a migraine.” He pressed a palm to one side of his head in evidence. “I’ve been in bed.”
“You get migraines often?”
“Sometimes.” Carl’s gaze drifted back to the cruiser. “Is someone else in there?” He shielded his eyes with one hand.
West ignored the question. “You’ve been home all morning?”
Carl dipped his chin, still preoccupied with the cruiser’s lights.
“Any visitors?”
“Not until you. Why? I don’t understand what’s going on.”
“You missed your group session. Don’t you usually call ahead if you’re not coming?”
“I—I’ve never missed. I d-didn’t know I had to call.”
The stutter gave West pause. Tina’s words came back to mind. Much as he’d like to continue questioning Carl alone, he didn’t want to be the reason the man relapsed or whatever Tina had just warned might happen. He lifted a hand without taking his eyes off Carl and opened and shut his palm, beckoning Tina from her place of safety. He changed positions as she approached, putting the trailer’s wall at his back and everything else within his line of vision, peripheral or otherwise.
The passenger door opened, and Carl took a step backward, arm extended toward the trailer door.
“Stop,” West ordered, and both people froze. He motioned to Tina again, attention fixed on Carl. “Keep your hands where I can see them, Mr. Morgan.”
He didn’t have to guess when Tina came into focus for Carl. The man’s eyebrows stretched into his hairline, and his mouth dropped open. It was the reaction he expected most men had when they first saw her. Having been the onetime recipient of her rejection, West might’ve felt bad for the guy if there wasn’t a shooter in town with his sick mind set on Tina. As far as West was concerned, all men were suspects until proven otherwise.
“Hi, Carl.” Tina spoke carefully as she climbed onto the wooden platform outside the trailer. Water dripped from the ragged awning stretched overhead, remnant drops from the recent storm. “I missed you at group today.”
Carl’s eyes darted between her, the headlights and the brooding sheriff at his side. “I—I’m a little surprised you felt the offense required an intervention by l-law enf-f-forcement.” His expression softened with the joke.
Tina smiled, thankful to see Carl at ease. She flicked West a meaningful look. “Maybe we can cut the spotlight.”
West leveled Carl with a no-nonsense expression before finally stepping away.
Carl moved closer to Tina the instant West abandoned his position as watchdog. “This isn’t really about me. Is it?”
“Not at all.” Tina shook her head, hoping to look less on edge than she felt.
“Are you okay?” Carl asked. “Did something happen to you? To Lily? Is there anything I can do? If you need a place to stay, I—I have plenty of room.”
“No. Nothing like that, exactly. Something happened after group today, and we wanted to check on you. Make sure you were okay.”
His mouth curved into a small smile. “You were worried about m-me?”
“Yeah.” Memories of the moments outside her office flashed back to mind, stinging her eyes and drying her mouth.
The blinding headlights extinguished, and Tina blinked several times to readjust her vision. “There was a shooting.”
West returned to them slowly, watching with careful cop eyes, one hand resting on the butt of his gun. Tina doubted that he missed much as town sheriff. He’d missed very little as a teen. She could only imagine his power of perception had grown keener with training and maturity.
Carl’s gaze traveled quizzically over Tina. “You weren’t hurt.”
“No. Not me.”
West shifted his weight, drawing Carl’s attention. “Another member of your group was murdered today. Steven Masters. How well did you know him?”
Tina narrowed her eyes on West. He could’ve been a little tactful about announcing a person’s death.
Something in his expression said he’d been intentionally harsh. Too much tightness in his jaw and rigidity in his stance. West didn’t trust Carl. Why?
Carl pointedly ignored him. “I only kn-kn-knew Steven from gr-gr-group.”
“You don’t seem too choked up,” West said.
“I guess I’m stun-stun-stunned.”
Cold wind whipped through the trees and rattled the tattered awning over their heads. West was right. Carl didn’t seem to care at all. She fell back a half step. Did it truly not matter to him that a man he knew was murdered, or hadn’t the shock registered yet?
Carl stepped closer, erasing the bit of distance she’d created. “Are you cold? Do you need a c-coat?”
“No. I’m fine. We’re here to check on you.”
“Yeah, but this must b-be awful for you.” He angled his back to West. “You and Steven were getting p-p-pretty close.”
“How so?” West asked, moving into the space at Tina’s side and blatantly hovering over her patient.
Carl stiffened. “They spent extra time together before and after sessions. She does that with new members.” He touched Tina’s sleeve gently. “If you n-need someone to talk to...”
Tina wrapped shaky arms around her center and attempted to stifle her recoil. How well did she know the members of her group? Could one of them truly be a killer? Could Carl? “Thank you. I’m sure this is something we’ll be talking about for months to come at our sessions.”
His eyebrows tented and he shoved both hands deep into his pockets. A flicker of something dark flashed in his eyes, and Carl’s suddenly heated expression fell on West. “I’m still not sure why you’re here. I wasn’t at group today, s-so I can’t give a statement.”
“Carl,” Tina started softly, “can you think of anyone who’d want to hurt Steven? The shooter only took one shot. I’ve seen the two of you talking before. Did he tell you about anyone who was upset or holding a grudge against him?”
“No.”
West sucked his teeth and continued to eyeball Carl. “Can anyone verify your whereabouts between seven and nine this morning?”
“No.” Carl grinned. “I’ve been here all day.” He opened his arms, as if to showcase the trees and silence around them.
“Is that right?” West asked. “My deputies tried calling. You didn’t answer.”
“I had a m-migraine. The ringer was off.”
Tina’s phone buzzed with Mary’s signature tone. She peeked at the incoming message. A photo of Lily wearing a fancy hat with feathers and the caption Playing dress up.
Her eyes teared at the sight of her daughter’s bright, toothless smile. The day had been too dark. She needed to cuddle Lily against her chest, inhale her sweet scent and feel her strong little heart beating against her own. Tina had told West that she wanted