Finding Amy. Carol Steward
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disk. Hopefully between the two, it will relieve the pinched nerves.” Being a physician, for her the abbreviated version wasn’t enough, and Jessica had begun to explain more thoroughly when a page forced Emily to say goodbye.
No sooner had Emily deserted Sam than his parents proclaimed that they needed to talk to Mayor and Mrs. Montgomery. His mother reached up to kiss his cheek. “Give her a chance, Sam,” she whispered. “Enjoy the evening, Jessica. We’ll be in touch soon.”
“Thank you, Lidia. I’ll see you Monday for sure.”
Sam resisted the urge to follow his father back into the hotel. See what he was really up to. For a retired G-man, he was certainly keeping odd company these days.
“Is this a bad time to talk, Samuel?”
The forced words from the frail and frightened-looking woman in front of him drew his full attention. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “This is fine. As long as you call me Sam. Otherwise, I’ll think I’m in trouble. What can I help you with?”
They were immediately interrupted by an old classmate he hadn’t seen since their ten-year reunion, followed by an apparent special delivery of Jessica’s drink.
Her smile wavered, and he thought for a minute that she was going to cry. She took a deep breath and paused to compose herself.
“It might be easier if we walked. Do you mind?” She took a sip from the flute and the color seemed to drain from her face. She strolled slowly, apparently in a lot of pain.
“A walk is fine.” One thing he’d learned as a detective—he did whatever it took to get to the truth. Though he didn’t care anymore what Jessica’s truth might be, he’d been raised better than to walk away right after an introduction. Sam tossed his jacket over his shoulder, glad he’d chosen the ankle holster instead of securing his weapon in the small of his back.
“I hope you don’t mind that I asked your mother to introduce us.” She turned in one motion to face him, as if her head didn’t move independently any longer.
“You did?” The thought puzzled him only half as much as it flattered him. Even though it shouldn’t. A party-girl like Jessica would do nothing but cause trouble. His mother should know better than to try to set him up with a lush.
Jessica blushed. “Yes, I did. I’ve meant to stop by the station ever since the accident, but time goes so fast. Now I’m trying to get ahead at work so I can have a little time off after my surgery. I’ve seen you at the Stagecoach Café a few times, but I didn’t place where I’d met you until I saw your picture in the paper this week.” She paused for a breath.
“Is there a problem?” He could list a dozen off the top of his head, any of which she should have dealt with years ago, before marrying a louse like Tim Mathers.
Her feet shuffled a little more quickly, almost as if trying to avoid him. Sam took an extra long step to catch up with her pace.
“I went to the grief counseling sessions you suggested after the accident,” she said.
They were part of the routine follow-up with the victims, providing them information that might help. In the case of the death of a spouse, it wasn’t uncommon to need help working through emotions. “I hope they made it a little easier.”
“Yes, Dr. Nagashima is wonderful. She’s helped in ways I never expected. Things I didn’t have the courage to deal with at times, but I feel much better now.”
He had suspicions about what she meant, but left it to her to delve deeper if she wanted. He still wondered if this was the reason she’d asked his mother to introduce them. As she said, she could have taken care of this at the station, with as little as a phone call, even.
“That’s what the program is for.”
Jessica nodded slightly, then flinched. “Yes. I guess it is, isn’t it.” She fidgeted with her purse, gingerly tilting her head from side to side and stretching her shoulders. “Still, sometimes people are reluctant to take advantage of free services. I appreciated your suggestions.”
“No problem.”
“I see why your mother is so proud of you—you’re a patient listener.”
He wondered why Jessica and his mother had talked about him. “Goes well with detective work, I guess.”
Jessica stopped, and Sam casually leaned a hip against the railing, watching her kick off her sandal and remove a pebble. Then she took off the other shoe and slowly bent down and picked them up. He cast an approving glance, noticing her nice tan and striking burgundy-painted toenails.
“I’m sure it’s part of why you’re so good at your job,” she continued, totally oblivious to his observation. “I was more than a little surprised to find out that the cop who saved my daughter and me is in the church choir.”
“It’s only the keyboard, for the Praise Team, but close enough for government work.”
She laughed. “I stand corrected. I tried to picture you trading in your uniform for a choir robe.”
“Naw, I’m a little too much rock-and-roll for the traditional choir.”
Her laugh was more relaxed. “You do look a little wild and dangerous, now that you mention it. Kind of a cross between a dark-haired Val Kilmer and Elvis.”
Sam thought a moment, then shrugged, his shoulders feeling a bit broader. “Guess I can’t argue with being compared to a music legend and a movie star, now can I.” Especially by a woman pretty enough to be in movies herself.
Jessica took a step, then stumbled, as if she’d been stabbed by another pebble. Sam offered a hand to steady her. “Maybe the grass would be easier on your feet.” He pushed away from the wrought-iron rail and guided her to the golf course adjoining the hotel property.
“Sure, that would be great.” She stepped onto the lush lawn and smiled. “It’s nice and cool, too. You ought to try it.”
“I’m doing okay, thanks.” The sooner they got back to the party the better. “This might be a good time to get to what you needed to talk to me about.”
“I needed to…” Her voice faltered. The tension reappeared on her face, making her look five years older. “First of all, thank you for all you did the night of my accident.”
“I was just doing my job.” He really didn’t want to discuss that night. Especially with her.
She turned slowly toward him. “No, something tells me you did just the opposite.”
“What?” He’d done his job completely. What in the world did she think he’d done?
“I’m sure you assumed I was lying to you when I answered your questions. You were so adamant that Tim had been drinking. I honestly didn’t know Tim had lost his license—” she took a couple of deep breaths “—or spent time in jail, until the insurance agent contacted me. I’m surprised that you didn’t have to press some sort of charges. Against me, I mean.”
He didn’t have the courage to tell her he had considered it. He shrugged impatiently.
Jessica’s quizzical look needed no explanation. “You had to have some reason.”
“You…” He closed his eyes, trying to put the scene behind him. “I guess I figured you’d paid a high enough price, losing your husband. There was no need to make matters worse. What was done was done.”
“All this time I’ve been expecting someone to show up at my door to press charges. Is that still a possibility?”
“No, the case is closed.” What retort he expected, he wasn’t sure. He’d been totally caught off guard by her matter-of-fact questions as well as his feeble answer. He paused, watching her stroll slowly ahead of him, her pain evident in the way she walked. He wondered now if he had done and said the right thing. “You