Saved By The Sheriff. Cindi Myers

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СКАЧАТЬ truly sorry. I’ve done what I can to make up for my mistakes.”

      “Your mistakes cost me three years of my life!” Lacy hated the way her voice broke on the words. “You humiliated me in front of everyone I knew. In front of people I’ve never even met. You accused me of the most horrible crime anyone could commit.”

      His face showed the strain he was feeling, his brown eyes pained. “I would give anything to take all of it back,” he said. “But I can’t. All I can do is say again that I’m sorry, and I hope you’ll find it in your heart one day to forgive me.”

      “You don’t deserve my forgiveness,” she said, and rushed past him, tears stinging her eyes. She refused to break down in front of him.

      She paused in the darkened living room, fighting for composure. Her father’s quiet voice drifted to her through the opened screen door. “Give it a few days. This is hard for her—for all of us.”

      “I didn’t mean to intrude on your first day back together,” Travis said. “I just wanted her to know how I felt. It didn’t seem right to wait any longer to apologize. It doesn’t make up for anything, but it had to be said.”

      “And we appreciate it,” her dad said. “We appreciate all you’ve done for her. It says a lot about a man when he’s willing to admit he was wrong.”

      “I’ll leave you alone now,” Travis said. “You deserve your privacy and I have a lot of work to do.”

      “Thank goodness there’s not a lot of crime in Rayford County, but I imagine the job has its challenges,” her dad said.

      “It does,” Travis said. “But right now my priority is finding out who really killed Andy Stenson. I know now that Lacy didn’t kill him, but I have to bring to justice the person who did.”

      * * *

      TRAVIS WALKED AWAY from the Milligan home, down the street shaded by tall evergreens and cottonwoods, up a block to Main. He liked that the town of Eagle Mountain—the only incorporated town in Rayford County—was small enough, and the sheriff’s department centrally located enough, that he could walk almost anywhere. A big part of policing in a rural area like this was simply being a presence. Seeing uniforms on the street made people feel safer, and it made troublemakers think twice about acting up.

      He passed under the large banner advertising Eagle Mountain Pioneer Days Festival, the biggest tourist attraction of the summer for the little town, with a parade and fireworks, outdoor concerts, crafts booths and anything else the town council could think of that would entertain people and induce them to stay a few days and spend money.

      “Sheriff!”

      He turned to see Mayor Larry Rowe striding toward him. Solidly built and energetic, Rowe was a relative newcomer to town who, after a year on the county planning committee, had spent a significant amount of money on his campaign for mayor two years ago—unusual in a town where most public officials ran unopposed. “Mayor.” Travis stopped and waited for the older man to catch up.

      “Sheriff, I wanted to talk to you about security for the festival,” Rowe said.

      “We’ll have plenty of officers patrolling,” Travis said. “I’m putting all of the reserves on duty, and as many of the full-time staff as possible.”

      Rowe nodded. “We don’t want any trouble to detract from the festivities.” He stared down the street, in the direction Travis had come. “I understand Lacy Milligan is back in town.”

      “Yes, I stopped by to see her.”

      “Oh?” The lines on either side of Rowe’s mouth deepened. “How is she?”

      “She’s still processing everything that’s happened, I think.”

      “I hope she doesn’t have any plans to sue the city,” Rowe said. “I’ll have to consult our attorney, prepare for that possibility.”

      “I don’t think she has any plans to sue,” Travis said.

      “Do whatever you can to see that she doesn’t. I have to go now. You’ll keep me posted if any problems arise with the Milligans.”

      “Yes, sir.”

      The mayor moved on, and Travis resumed the walk to his office. Though he didn’t consider Rowe a friend, he appreciated that the mayor rarely involved himself in the operation of the sheriff’s department. Travis was free to do his job as he saw fit.

      A ten-minute stroll took Travis back to the office. His office manager, sixty-eight-year-old Adelaide Kinkaid, who refused to even consider retiring—and was sharper than most thirty-year-olds—looked up from her computer screen. “How did it go?” she asked.

      “About like I expected.” Travis hung his Stetson on the rack by the door. “She told me I’d ruined her life and tried not to let me see she was crying.” He shrugged. “In her place, I’d probably feel the same way. I guess I’m lucky she didn’t punch me.”

      “You’re already beating yourself up enough,” Adelaide said.

      “Why are you beating yourself up?” Deputy Gage Walker, Travis’s younger brother, emerged from his office. Taller than Travis by two inches and lighter than him by twenty pounds, Gage looked like the basketball forward he had been in high school, lean and quick.

      “I went over to see Lacy Milligan,” Travis said.

      Gage’s face sobered. “Ouch! That took guts.”

      “It was the least she deserved. Not that she thinks so.”

      “You did what you could,” Gage said. “Now the ball is in her court.”

      “Not exactly.”

      “What do you mean?” Gage asked.

      “I mean, I still have to find Andy Stenson’s killer. And doing that will be easier with her help.”

      “Wait a minute—you proved she was innocent—but you think she knows something?” Gage asked.

      “She can at least walk me through Andy’s records, tell me about his clients. She was his only employee. She may have encountered his murderer, without knowing it.”

      “What about Andy’s widow?” Adelaide asked.

      “Brenda knows nothing about the business,” Travis said. “She’s told me everything she knows, but it’s not enough. I need Lacy to help me.”

      “And I need a million dollars,” Gage said. “But I’m not going to get it.”

      Travis moved into his office and dropped into his chair behind his desk, staring at the stack of papers in his inbox, thinking about Lacy. She was the first murderer he had ever arrested—the only one, actually. He was a deputy with only a few years on the force at the time, and murder was a rare crime in Rayford County. Sheriff’s department calls ran more toward theft, vandalism, domestic violence and what he thought of as tourist calls—lost hikers, lost wallets, lost dogs and people who had locked themselves out of their cars.

      The murder СКАЧАТЬ