“Undersheriff Brogan, I need to change my testimony.” Nic purposely raised his voice as if he were a bit panicked. He turned to Julie. “Julie, sweetie, I just can’t do it. I know we agreed, but I’m really not a very good liar.”
Julie looked at him like he’d just been beamed from another planet.
Nic turned back to the men. “I can’t lie anymore. I need to tell you the truth about what happened at the cabin.”
Back to Julie. “I’m so sorry. I just don’t know you well enough to risk my life or career like this.”
The color fled Julie’s face.
“Sir, I’m sure Julie thought she was doing the right thing. Maybe she even felt threatened by that Doug guy. But he didn’t shoot himself, sir. She shot him. Then she got me to help her make it look like suicide.”
Brogan was positively salivating as Nic spoke. But, if Julie’s face was pale, then Raines’ was ghostly.
“Nic.” Julie’s voice came out in a whisper. “Why are you saying this?”
Raines cleared his throat and puffed up his chest. “Yes, Nic, why are you saying this.”
“Because it’s the truth, Sheriff.”
Brogan tried to take over. “And why did you lie before?”
Nic lowered his gaze to the floor and stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets, shifting from one foot to the other.
“Well...”
“Go on, Mr. D’Onofrio.”
Nic hesitated, then, as if just blurting it out, he said, “The sex was good.”
It was like a bad dream. First Brogan had stepped behind her and cuffed her. She could barely see for the tears stinging her eyes. And now one of the deputies, courteously enough, was fingerprinting her. Nic hadn’t even looked at her when Brogan led her from the room. At least Sheriff Raines had been on her side, protesting loudly that there was some mistake. Then, when that argument hadn’t worked, he insisted on taking Julie to Lassen County. Brogan just shook his head and muttered something about Davis having been killed in his county and that he was just doing his job.
What had Nic done to her? He’d actually told Brogan that they’d had sex. The way he said it was, well, awful. Had she so misjudged this man? Misjudged his character? His feelings for her?
Maybe she had.
Nic wanted to get rid of her from the moment he’d found her. Well, he was definitely rid of her now.
For the moment, Julie was as safe as she could be—in the Plumas County Jail. Nic cringed at the thought. The look she’d given him as he’d blurted out his lies nearly broke his heart. But Raines would have insisted on taking Julie with him back to Lassen County. And Nic would not have been invited. Then, no doubt, some terrible accident—a tragedy—would have taken place. And tomorrow, on TV, Nic would have seen the good sheriff relate the sad news of Julie Galloway’s death.
Nic found a motel not too far away and checked in. He tucked the 9mm in his waistband and grabbed the clothes they’d brought from the cabin. It was almost eleven o’clock. All Nic could think of was sleeping. As he crawled into the bed, distinctly aware that he was alone, he steadfastly ignored the images of Julie in a jail cell.
It wasn’t at all what Julie had expected. The holding cells they showed on TV were mostly big rooms with groups of women that looked like they could easily suck your brains out your nose. An innocent woman was bait. At least on TV. But this wasn’t so bad. Well, if you ignored the fact that you were under arrest for something you didn’t do, because someone you were in love with had told authorities that you’d done it. The room was small, with a cot, a sink, and a toilet. More like a prison cell. Panic seized Julie, and she sank down on the cot, pulling the blanket around her.
Wait a minute. Backup. Someone you were in love with? That was certainly a big mistake. No way was she going to think of Nic like that. He was the reason she was here in jail, after all. Again with the prison thoughts. Find something else to think about. But the only picture that she could get into her head, that wasn’t filled with fear and blood, was lying in Nic’s arms. That would just have to do.
Nic slept like the dead, and when he woke up at nine-thirty on Saturday morning, he felt better than he had in days. He slowly peeled the bandage back and looked at his chest and arm in the mirror. The wounds weren’t the ugly red they had been, but were only pink. He tentatively flexed his pecs and let out his breath when it felt okay. Not great, but okay.
After a nice, long, hot shower, he slipped into clean clothes and went out in search of food. Not that he didn’t like oatmeal—which Julie had insisted was super nutritious and would help him heal—he actually liked it fine. But what he wanted at this moment was steak and eggs, hash browns with onions and green peppers and maybe even a short stack on the side. He grinned at the thought and tried not to picture a tray of iffy food being shoved through a slot in a cell door.
Over breakfast, Nic mapped out a strategy. Well, he tried. But all he ended up with was a number of questions scribbled on a napkin that he needed answers for. He’d need Cruz to do some more investigating. He needed to find out all he could about Sheriff Frank Raines. He also wanted to know what would make Raines kill an entire family.
After breakfast, Nic called Cruz. He briefed Eric on the latest developments.
“You turned her in?” If Cruz was trying to cover up his laughter, he wasn’t doing a very good job of it. “Geez, with friends like you, who needs enemies.”
“Bite me.”
“You wish. What you going to do next?”
“Well, it occurs to me that Julie thought her father would have left her some information. It’s possible that he only had it on his computer, which was wiped clean, but maybe he sent something to her in Redding, and she came home before getting it. I thought about going there to take a look at her mail.”
Nic went back to the motel room, but not having any better ideas by early evening, decided to jump in the car and drive to Redding. If he’d been independently wealthy—like Cruz—he’d have flown. If he were Cruz, he’d just rent a plane and fly himself. Note to self: Take Cruz up on his offer to give flying lessons—oh, and check to see if Cruz’s folks need another kid. The prospect of an almost three hour drive, alone, wasn’t one he relished.
He found a decent radio station, and when he outdrove it, found another one. Music was the only thing that kept him from thinking about Julie. Hell, who was he kidding? He thought about her every mile along the way.
Visions of her sitting, helpless, in her car. Visions of her bravely walking into the house where her family had been murdered. Even unwelcome visions of her joining him in the shower. But the one he couldn’t quite shake, the picture of Brogan leading her away in cuffs.
Nic tried to push away the feeling that he’d abandoned her. Yeah, like that was going to happen.
Julie had never felt so alone in her whole life. It wasn’t just the solitary confinement of the cell. She didn’t have anyone to call, anyone to come and help her, anyone to tell her it would be okay. She’d thought Nic was that person. In the worst moments of the last few days, when despair threatened to swallow her whole, Nic had been there. At the cabin, even when he slept for hours at a time, she never felt alone. And now he was gone, probably back to his vacation, to his life, leaving her to fend for herself. Things might not be what they seemed. True enough. But there was little use in hoping for something that clearly wasn’t going to happen.
Near midnight, the lights of Redding appeared on the horizon. If the end hadn’t been in sight, Nic would have had to pull over in a rest stop and do just that. He was acutely aware that fatigue caused a person to make poor decisions. He cracked the window, allowing the cold winter air to stir his senses. Maybe that would keep him awake for the last twenty miles. At the first fleabag motel he came across, he paid for a room and collapsed on the bed, not bothering to turn down the covers.
Nic forced himself to get up as soon as he woke up, just after eight. He found a pancake place about a mile down the street and stopped to eat. While he waited for hi
s food, he called Cruz again, getting Julie’s address from him.
Cruz sounded different.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, fine.”
Nic couldn’t put his finger on the difference and it sounded like Eric wasn’t about to explain. “So, anything new?”
“Well, your buddy, the sheriff, is quite popular in his county.”
“Really?”
“Yup. He writes cowboy poetry and makes the rounds at all the county functions doing recitations and selling his books and CDs. He’s one of the few county officials that isn’t subject to term limits. Apparently, there have never been any threats to his job. A local guy, former L.A. cop, ran against him last November and didn’t even get thirty percent of the vote.”
“Well, I might not be popular in that county very soon.”
“You don’t know the half of it, amigo. Our sheriff is a Distinguished Service Cross recipient and is considered the most eligible bachelor in those parts. Very charming.”
“Not the guy I met. He’s a snake.”
“Well, on paper, he’s not.”
Chapter Fifteen