Part 23 (1/2)
”I'm listening.” Rising, Buzz went over to the coffee station. Reaching far into the back of the cabinet mounted on the wall, he removed a small flask and two cups. Back at his desk, he set one of the cups in front of Jake and filled it with two fingers of amber liquid. ”I keep this stuff for emergencies,” he said.
”I reckon this would qualify as an emergency.”
”Yeah, decking a sheriff's deputy isn't real subtle.”
Jake reached for the cup and drank. The whiskey burned his throat, but he emptied the cup. ”I screwed up, Buzz.”
”You're not going to get an argument from me.”
”No. That's not what I mean.” He cut Buzz a hard look. ”I screwed up big time.”
Buzz sighed. ”That female convict got to you, didn't she?”
”I slept with her,” Jake admitted.
In the twelve years he'd known Buzz Malone, Jake had never seen the other man flinch. ”What?”
”I said I-”
”I know what you said. What I'm wondering is why the h.e.l.l you're telling me and what the holy h.e.l.l you're going to do about it.”
”She's innocent.”
Buzz groaned. ”Jake-”
”d.a.m.n it, Buzz, she's innocent.”
”She murdered a store clerk, for G.o.d's sake! Why do you think that deputy was so hard on her? She stole money and guns and-”
”She didn't do it.”
”How can you possibly know that?”
”Look, I know this sounds crazy-”
”It sounds a lot worse than crazy. It sounds like you did something that's going to cost you your career and you still don't have her out of your system.”
It hit Jake then that he wasn't ever going to get her out of his system. The realization sent panic skittering up his spine, hitting his brain like a high-voltage spark. Fear churned in his gut. Fear of what he'd just realized, of what he'd known was true since the moment he'd first set eyes on her. Fear for the woman whose life he now held in his hands.
”I love her.” His own words stunned him, rocked him to his very foundation. ”G.o.d, Buzz, I love her.”
Across from him Buzz got creative with his cursing. ”Jake, you're tired. You've got a bullet wound in your side. You just came out of a high stress situation. Give yourself a couple of days to clear your head and cool off.”
”A couple of days isn't going to cut it.” Jake slid his cup across the desk. Buzz obliged by filling it.
”I need your help,” Jake said.
”What you need is for Sheriff n.o.ble to look the other way and let this go.”
”Someone framed her.”
”Jake-”
”If you won't help me, Buzz, I'll do it without you.”
”Do what?”
”I've got a couple of leads to follow up on. I can't do it alone. I need your help.”
”I'm not a cop anymore.”
”Tomorrow at this time, I probably won't be, either. But I've got to work this. I've got to work it smart-”
”What you need to be working on is damage control. h.e.l.l, I can't believe you slugged that deputy. If he files a complaint, you're in big trouble.”
Remembering the way Abby had looked on her knees on the wet asphalt, Jake grimaced. ”He had it coming.”
”If this woman-Nichols-starts spewing claims of improper police conduct, you can kiss your career goodbye.”
”She won't.”
Sighing, Buzz leaned forward and filled his own cup, looking as if he needed the drink as badly as Jake. ”I don't have to remind you about your track record with women, do I?”
Jake knew he was referring to Elaine. Buzz was the only person who knew about her. The only person he'd confided in. He thought about Abby, tried to align the parallels, realized he couldn't. Abby Nichols was nothing like Elaine. Jake was willing to bet his career on it. Lord, he was willing to bet his life on it.
”Are you sure you want to throw your career away on a convicted murderer?”
Tossing the empty cup into the trash container beneath Buzz's desk, Jake rose. ”I'm going to take a shower, then head over to Mercy General.” He gave Buzz a hard look. ”Are you coming with me?”
”You going to clue me in or keep me fumbling around in the dark?”
A frisson of relief went through Jake. ”I'll explain on the way.”
For the first time that day the cold got to Abby. As the female deputy led her to her temporary cell, it seemed to rear up inside her, and burst forth from her very bones. She began to s.h.i.+ver. Her teeth chattered. Her hands were shaking so badly, she could barely hold the state-issue blanket and pillow they'd given her down in processing.
Oh, G.o.d in heaven, what had she done?
The question was moot because Abby knew d.a.m.n good and well what she'd done. Not once, but twice. She'd trusted a man she'd known would betray her. She'd given him her body and let him use her. Worse, she'd given him her heart and now it was breaking.
Oh, Jake, how could you do this to me?
The interview with the D.O.C. officials was a blur. Mostly, they'd wanted to know how she'd gotten out, if anyone within the prison system had helped her, and what she'd done once she was free. The cops weren't quite as nice and concentrated most of their questions about a sporting goods store clerk who'd ended up dead. From what Abby had gathered, the cops had found Grams's truck and somehow the guns and money taken from the sporting goods store had ended up in the truck. They'd been relentless in their questioning, asking the same questions over and over again. Cold and wet and hungry, by the time they were finished with her some four hours later, she was almost ready to confess just so she could get into some dry clothes.
Processing was a nightmare, but Abby had simply let her mind leave her body as she was checked into the Chaffee County jail. She was allowed a shower, given a prison-issue jumpsuit and taken to her small cell in the bas.e.m.e.nt where a female deputy pa.s.sed a lukewarm dinner through the bars. After arraignment the next morning, she would be transferred back to Buena Vista.
Where was Jake?