Page 41 of True Valor
It was like a bad dream.First Brogan hadstepped behind her and cuffed her.She could barely see for thetears stinging her eyes.And now one of the deputies, courteouslyenough, was fingerprinting her.Nic hadn’t even looked at her whenBrogan led her from the room.At least Sheriff Raines had been onher side, protesting loudly that there was some mistake.Then, whenthat argument hadn’t worked, he insisted on taking Julie to LassenCounty.Brogan just shook his head and muttered something aboutDavis having been killed inhiscounty and that he was justdoing his job.
What had Nic done to her?He’d actually toldBrogan that they’d had sex.The way he said it was, well, awful.Had she so misjudged this man?Misjudged his character?Hisfeelings for her?
Maybe she had.
Nic wanted to get rid of her from the momenthe’d found her.Well, he was definitely rid of her now.
For the moment, Julie was as safe as shecould be—in the Plumas County Jail.Nic cringed at the thought.Thelook she’d given him as he’d blurted out his lies nearly broke hisheart.But Raines would have insisted on taking Julie with him backto Lassen County.And Nic would not have been invited.Then, nodoubt, some terrible accident—a tragedy—would have taken place.Andtomorrow, on TV, Nic would have seen the good sheriff relate thesad news of Julie Galloway’s death.
Nic found a motel not too far away andchecked in.He tucked the 9mm in his waistband and grabbed theclothes they’d brought from the cabin.It was almost eleveno’clock.All Nic could think of was sleeping.As he crawled intothe bed, distinctly aware that he was alone, he steadfastly ignoredthe images of Julie in a jail cell.
It wasn’t at all what Julie had expected.Theholding cells they showed on TV were mostly big rooms with groupsof women that looked like they could easily suck your brains outyour nose.An innocent woman was bait.At least on TV.But thiswasn’t so bad.Well, if you ignored the fact that you were underarrest for something you didn’t do, because someone you were inlove with had told authorities that you’d done it.The room wassmall, with a cot, a sink, and a toilet.More like a prison cell.Panic seized Julie, and she sank down on the cot, pulling theblanket around her.
Wait a minute.Backup.Someone you were inlove with?Thatwas certainly a big mistake.No way was shegoing to think of Nic like that.He was the reason she was here injail, after all.Again with the prison thoughts.Find somethingelse to think about.But the only picture that she could get intoher head, that wasn’t filled with fear and blood, was lying inNic’s arms.That would just have to do.
Nic slept like the dead, and when he woke upat nine-thirty on Saturday morning, he felt better than he had indays.He slowly peeled the bandage back and looked at his chest andarm 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 hisbreath when it felt okay.Not great, but okay.
After a nice, long, hot shower, he slippedinto clean clothes and went out in search of food.Not that hedidn’t like oatmeal—which Julie had insisted was super nutritiousand would help him heal—he actually liked it fine.But what hewanted at this moment was steak and eggs, hash browns with onionsand green peppers and maybe even a short stack on the side.Hegrinned at the thought and tried not to picture a tray of iffy foodbeing 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 questionsscribbled on a napkin that he needed answers for.He’d need Cruz todo some more investigating.He needed to find out all he couldabout Sheriff Frank Raines.He also wanted to know what would makeRaines kill an entire family.
After breakfast, Nic called Cruz.He briefedEric on the latest developments.
“You turned her in?”If Cruz was trying tocover 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 herfather would have left her some information.It’s possible that heonly had it on his computer, which was wiped clean, but maybe hesent something to her in Redding, and she came home before gettingit.I thought about going there to take a look at her mail.”
Nic went back to the motel room, but nothaving any better ideas by early evening, decided to jump in thecar and drive to Redding.If he’d been independently wealthy—likeCruz—he’d have flown.If he were Cruz, he’d just rent a plane andfly himself.Note to self: Take Cruz up on his offer to give flyinglessons—oh, and check to see if Cruz’s folks need another kid.Theprospect of an almost three hour drive, alone, wasn’t one herelished.
He found a decent radio station, and when heoutdrove it, found another one.Music was the only thing that kepthim from thinking about Julie.Hell, who was he kidding?He thoughtabout 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 hadbeen murdered.Even unwelcome visions of her joining him in theshower.But the one he couldn’t quite shake, the picture of Broganleading her away in cuffs.
Nic tried to push away the feeling that he’dabandoned her.Yeah, like that was going to happen.
Julie had never felt so alone in her wholelife.It wasn’t just the solitary confinement of the cell.Shedidn’t have anyone to call, anyone to come and help her, anyone totell her it would be okay.She’d thought Nic was that person.Inthe worst moments of the last few days, when despair threatened toswallow her whole, Nic had been there.At the cabin, even when heslept for hours at a time, she never felt alone.And now he wasgone, probably back to his vacation, to his life, leaving her tofend for herself.Things might not be what they seemed.Trueenough.But there was little use in hoping for something thatclearly wasn’t going to happen.
Near midnight, the lights of Redding appearedon the horizon.If the end hadn’t been in sight, Nic would have hadto pull over in a rest stop and do just that.He was acutely awarethat fatigue caused a person to make poor decisions.He cracked thewindow, allowing the cold winter air to stir his senses.Maybe thatwould keep him awake for the last twenty miles.At the firstfleabag motel he came across, he paid for a room and collapsed onthe bed, not bothering to turn down the covers.
Nic forced himself to get up as soon as hewoke up, just after eight.He found a pancake place about a miledown the street and stopped to eat.While he waited for his 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 differenceand it sounded like Eric wasn’t about to explain.“So, anythingnew?”
“Well, your buddy, the sheriff, is quitepopular in his county.”
“Really?”
“Yup.He writes cowboy poetry and makes therounds at all the county functions doing recitations and sellinghis books and CDs.He’s one of the few county officials that isn’tsubject to term limits.Apparently, there have never been anythreats to his job.A local guy, former L.A.cop, ran against himlast November and didn’t even get thirty percent of the vote.”
