Running for Cover. Shirlee McCoy

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СКАЧАТЬ taken Morgan’s statement and issued an APB based on her description of the suspects. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear your story.” If the sheriff was annoyed by Jackson’s comment, his tone and expression didn’t show it.

      “You want the long or short version?”

      “Either will work.”

      “I was working on a case and missed my flight out of New York last night. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get another flight, so I drove down here. I got into town a few hours ago and realized I’d left Jude and Lacey’s gift in New York. After Jude’s rehearsal dinner, I decided to drive around town to see if I could find a place to buy one.”

      “So that’s the short version?”

      “Yeah.” The long version was something Jackson didn’t plan to share. He had wanted to find a gift for his friend, but he’d also needed space. Seeing Jude’s family together had reminded Jackson of his own family and the loss that had torn them apart. It was that more than anything that had driven him to his solitary search for a gift. If he’d been the kind to believe that God intervened in the business of men, Jackson would be tempted to think that He’d put him in just the right place at just the right time to save Morgan’s life.

      “Tell me what happened when you got here,” the sheriff said, interrupting Jackson’s thoughts.

      Jackson gave him as many details as he could, his gaze drawn to the squad car and the woman inside it. She looked vulnerable, her eyes hollow and empty. Jackson had gone into police work to help people like her. He’d left it because he’d failed when it counted most. The truth was a hard knot in his chest. He cleared his throat, wishing he could clear his mind of the past as easily. “That’s as much as I know. I think the rest of your answers will have to come from Morgan.”

      “All right. Thanks. Are you staying with Jude?”

      “Yes.”

      “Leaving after the wedding tomorrow?”

      “I’d planned to do some fishing and head back to New York Sunday morning.”

      “Then I’ll let you get back to what you were doing, but I’ll want to ask a few more questions before you leave town. How about we meet after the wedding reception?”

      “Sure.” Not that he had a choice in the matter.

      “You have a business card?”

      “In my wallet. Your deputy still has it.”

      “Here you go, Mr. Sharo.” She dropped it into Jackson’s outstretched palm.

      “And my gun?”

      The sheriff nodded, and the deputy returned that to Jackson, as well. That meant he could do exactly what the sheriff had suggested and get back to the wedding gift hunt.

      It was probably what he should do. It was even what he wanted to do, but Jackson knew he couldn’t. Quitting the police force hadn’t changed his desire to serve and protect. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t leave until he was sure Morgan would be all right. “You said you called an ambulance?”

      “Should be here in a few minutes.”

      “A few minutes or an hour, it doesn’t matter, because I’m not going to the hospital,” Morgan said as she eased out of the squad car, leaving the blanket and coffee cup behind.

      “I think we discussed this already,” the sheriff said. “You need to be checked out at the hospital. We’ve got a victim’s advocate there who will talk to you and help you through the process.” His tone was implacable, but Morgan didn’t seem to notice.

      “I’m not a victim.” Despite the argumentative tone, her voice trembled, and Jackson wondered how long it would be before her tough facade crumbled and she crumbled with it.

      “Sheriff Reed is right. You need to let the doctors take a look at your injuries.” He put a hand on her shoulder, letting it fall away when she flinched.

      “I don’t need a doctor to tell me I’ve been beaten. And I don’t need a victim’s advocate to tell me it wasn’t my fault.”

      “Then what do you need?”

      Jackson’s question must have surprised her. She met his gaze, her almond-shaped eyes surrounded by thick black lashes that contrasted sharply with light-colored irises. “To go back a decade and say no when my ex-husband asked me to marry him.”

      “You think your ex-husband had something to do with what happened tonight?”

      “Something to do with it? He had everything to do with it. The men who were here were searching for something of Cody’s. A disk. They said Cody told them that I had it. That he’d given it to me before he went to prison.”

      Her ex-husband was in prison?

      And she owned an art gallery in Lakeview, Virginia.

      And her first name was Morgan.

      Surprised, Jackson studied her face. Bruised and swollen, it barely resembled the photo of Morgan Alexandria that he’d seen months ago when Jude Sinclair had asked him to investigate the ex-wife of a man he’d put into prison. Barely resembled but did. Dark black hair. Vivid, silvery-blue eyes. Exotic beauty that had stuck in his mind long after he’d seen the photo. Maybe if he hadn’t been so caught up in escaping his thoughts and his guilt, Jackson would have put two and two together when he’d first arrived at the gallery.

      And maybe he wouldn’t have rung the doorbell.

      Seen Morgan’s battered face.

      A God thing?

      His sister would have said so.

      Maybe, just maybe, Jackson believed it.

      An ambulance pulled into the parking lot, cutting off further conversation.

      “Looks like your ride is here, Morgan,” the sheriff said quietly. “I’m going to check things out around here. Then I’ll come by to see how you’re doing.”

      “Really, Sheriff Reed, I don’t need to go to the hospital. All I need are a few aspirins and an ice pack.”

      Of course, she did need to go. There’d be a team waiting to collect forensic evidence from her clothes, hair and skin. Photographs would be taken. Doctor’s reports written. Everything done to ensure that anything collected would be admissible in court.

      Sheriff Reed didn’t mention any of those things as two EMTs approached. Jackson didn’t either, but the thought of Morgan facing doctors, police and victim’s advocate alone didn’t sit well with him.

      “Is there anyone you want me to call for you, Morgan? Family? Friends? Someone who can meet you at the hospital?”

      “No. Thanks.”

      An EMT dropped a blanket over her shoulders and urged her toward the ambulance. She took a few steps and stopped, turning to face Jackson. “In case I don’t see you again, thanks. For everything. If you hadn’t shown up—” she paused, shaking СКАЧАТЬ