Molly's Garden. Roz Denny Fox

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СКАЧАТЬ ELEVEN

       CHAPTER TWELVE

       CHAPTER THIRTEEN

       CHAPTER FOURTEEN

       Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

      MOLLY MCNAIR TIGHTENED her grip on Nitro’s leash and charged up the steps. Bursting through the double doors into the sheriff’s station, she stood looking for Deputy Roy Powell.

      A uniformed clerk set down the phone, eyeing her big guard dog warily. “May I help you?”

      The woman stepped out from behind her desk and the black-and-rust Doberman growled low in his throat. The clerk immediately retreated.

      “I got a message from Deputy Powell. Ramon Flores was in some kind of an accident. He was driving one of our McNair trucks to markets in Laredo.”

      The woman turned as Roy Powell, in his khaki uniform, emerged from a back room and signaled with a hand. “Park your dog outside and come with me, Ms. McNair.”

      Molly tightened her grip on Nitro. “My dog stays with me, if you don’t mind, Deputy Powell.”

      She spoke a low command and the animal relaxed.

      “Then see he behaves.” Powell went into the room and waited for her.

      She stepped past him and pulled up short. “Ramon. Good grief, what happened?”

      Her driver sat hunched over in a straight-backed chair. His hair was matted with blood. One eye was nearly closed and beginning to bruise. His shirt and pants were torn and dirty. Fresh blood oozed from several cuts on his arm and through one pant leg.

      “Why is he here and not at the hospital?” Molly asked Powell, who’d gone to sit behind his desk. Nitro sniffed at Ramon and sat. She remained standing.

      “Mr. Flores told officers at the scene that he wasn’t sure he had a medical policy. He has no identification. Frankly we contacted you, as the registered owner of the vehicle, not knowing whether he’d stolen your truck.”

      “Ramon, where’s your driver’s license?” She turned to Powell. “I provide all employees an insurance card.”

      Looking miserable, Ramon continued to clutch his ribs as he spoke. “Three men in a black SUV forced me off the road before I reached the highway. They pulled me out of the cab. One beat me while the others destroyed the crates...and the produce inside. One took my wallet.”

      Molly gaped at him. “He plainly needs medical treatment. What do I have to do for you to release him so I can take him to the emergency room? Or, Ramon, do you need me to call an ambulance?”

      He shook his head even as the deputy drummed his thumbs on a manila folder. “Can you prove he’s in Texas legally?”

      “Prove? Ramon’s parents migrated from Mexico a long time ago. Daddy helped them become naturalized. And you know my father was a straight arrow.” Her voice trembled as she spoke and Nitro sat up. Reaching down, she stroked between his pointed ears.

      “It’s been a year since your dad passed. A lot has changed. Rumors say you aren’t as choosey about who you hire as Mike was.”

      “What? That’s not true. Daddy supported me and all the farm decisions I had to make after he got prostate cancer. I’ve been at this long enough now...why are there suddenly questions? I was in the Peace Corps, for crying out loud, doesn’t that warrant some kind of respect for my decision-making?”

      “Raising cattle is a worthy occupation. Your dad’s wranglers were mostly local cowboys.” The deputy delivered a dark look as he closed the folder. “You should have stuck with raising beef.”

      Molly stiffened. “Meaning you don’t think providing fresh fruit and vegetables to hungry families is admirable?”

      “Depends on who you’re feeding. You don’t want to be encouraging people to come here who don’t belong.”

      “You know what? None of that matters. This man works for me. He belongs and he needs a doctor. I’m taking him to the hospital. If you plan to detain us, I’ll phone Gordon Loomis.”

      Molly pulled out her cell phone. Loomis, her godfather, was the most respected lawyer in the area. His name carried weight. He’d been their family attorney even before Molly’s mom died. And she had few memories of her mother.

      “Out of curiosity, are you looking for the men who did this?” she abruptly asked.

      Powell stood. “I don’t need you to tell me my job, little lady. Your produce truck might’ve been hijacked by the very folks you’ve been feeding. Maybe you should sell your farm and go back to your old job in... where was that again?” he drawled. “Africa?”

      “You mean where we were treated with respect?” Pocketing her phone, Molly dealt the deputy a dirty look. Shifting Nitro’s leash to her left hand, she leaned down to help her driver to his feet. “I’ll send someone from the farm to collect my truck to see if we can salvage any of the load. I assume you have no reason to hold it.”

      “If you have known enemies, Ms. McNair, I’ll take their names. The mischief-makers were gone by the time a passerby phoned our dispatch.”

      Molly indicated Ramon’s injuries. “This looks like more than mischief to me.”

      “A lot of old-timers hate the influx streaming across our border. You ought’a be extra careful about who you put on your payroll. I’ll be checking.”

      Ignoring the arrogance of the paunchy deputy, Molly slowly led her driver out of the office, through the main room, which had fallen silent, and out the door.

      “I’m sorry I couldn’t save the vegetables.” Ramon spoke with effort. “I think one man was the same one I told you hassled me at the market on Monday.” He faltered and she stopped to steady him. “I can’t be your driver anymore,” he said slowly, staring down at his feet. “Elena worries. And we have three children. You pay me more to drive, but I’ll go back to hoeing or picking... They threatened to hurt my family.”

      She took a sharp breath before nudging him forward again. “None of this makes sense. Why would anyone be so upset that I’m selling fresh vegetables at local farmers’ markets?”

      Frowning, Molly unlocked the doors to her old SUV. She removed Nitro’s leash and he bounded into the backseat. Carefully she helped Ramon into the front passenger’s seat.

      “I don’t want to get dirt and blood on your upholstery.”

      “This is a working farm vehicle. The seats will come clean. I’m sorry this happened. I should have paid closer attention when Danny Ortega quit. To be honest, he griped about everything so I assumed he’d finally had enough or had heard they were hiring in Brownsville for an offshore oil rig that paid more. Maybe he was being harassed, too.”

      She circled around, climbed in and started the motor. “You don’t suppose the СКАЧАТЬ