Page 34

Chapter 34

Tobias

On the short ride home, my mind kept replaying the image of Ruth in that hospital bed. She was bruised, broken, and unconscious. And all because of me. Because I'd pushed her away instead of keeping her close. My truck announced Tim's call, pulling me from my thoughts.

"Hey son."

"We heard about Blossoms. Was Ruth hurt? Dianna tried calling her when we heard but she didn't answer."

"She's in the hospital but the doctor said she would be alright."

"Dad," Dianna's voice came across my speakers. "Dad, I'm sorry. I can't have these things going on and you thinking I'm mad at you. I'm not, not anymore. You need to live your life your way."

"It's okay, Dianna, you had every right to be angry. I was stupid but I'm going to try and make it better."

There was silence for a moment. "Just be yourself, Dad. That's who she cares about, just be honest and open. No matter how hard that second part is."

I smiled while pulling into my driveway. "Thanks honey. I have to go."

"We love you," Dianna said while Tim told me to be safe and they ended the call.

Once home, I stripped off my clothes and stepped into a scalding shower. The hot water couldn't wash away the guilt, but at least it eased some of the stiffness from my muscles. I'd spent the night in that uncomfortable chair, but I'd have done it for a week if it meant Ruth wasn't alone.

I dressed quickly in a fresh uniform. Attaching my badge, my utility belt and lastly my gun. For what was next, I needed to be the serious, no-nonsense Sheriff Trenton. The one I was good at playing; later I'd be the one I was still learning.

Before I went to work, I needed to see the damage for myself. The crime scene tape still stretched across the front of Blossoms, fluttering in the morning breeze. I ducked underneath, glad to be here on my own. Wearing this badge I’ve seen a lot but nothing could have prepared me for the devastation. The large front windows were completely shattered, glass scattered across the floor like malicious diamonds catching the early light. Display stands had been toppled, ceramic pots smashed to pieces.

Unforgettably, my years as sheriff allowed my mind's eye to re-enact everything that had happened here. I saw the men move through the shop with malicious intent. I glanced at the back door where Joey would have emerged from. I saw Ruth appear, hell-bent on saving Joey. I saw the bucket laying on its side in a pool of water. They must have backed her into this workstation. Peering down, I saw blood close to where the bucket laid. Then blood where I guessed Ruth's face and the floor met. I closed my eyes and saw her lying motionless in the hospital bed. Unconsciously my hands balled into fists and my breathing came rapidly. Someone was going to pay for what they had done here. Even if Ruth rejects me and never speaks to me again. Someone is going to pay.

Twenty minutes later, I pulled into the station parking lot. People nodded as I entered, but I didn't stop to chat. I headed straight for the stairs that led down to the holding cells.

Sang was coming up the hallway towards me. "Sheriff? I thought you were at the capital."

"Keys," I said, extending my hand.

His eyes widened slightly, but he handed over the key ring without question.

"The guy from last night. Which cell?"

"End of the hall on the right. He's as tight-lipped as the other one."

I nodded. Before getting to the door, I grabbed a chair from the breakroom and brought it with me. The holding area consisted of six cells, though we rarely had more than one or two occupied at once. Today, I only cared about one of the cells. As I approached, I took in a shorter heavily muscled man who appeared to be in his thirties with a shaved head and a bandage on his temple. I could see Los Angeles gang-related tattoos on his arms and the marks that show the gangs he's killed before on his face. He sat on the edge of his bunk, elbows resting on his knees.

This man was in Ruth's shop. This man hurt Ruth and Joey. I should shoot him where he sits, but as much of a good idea as that sounds, I won't. I believe in the process of the law. While I won't shoot him, I'll call in every favor I have to make sure he rots in prison.

He looked up as I approached, recognition and then wariness crossing his features. I positioned the chair about three feet out in front of his cell, turned it around, and straddled it, resting my arms across the back. Then I simply stared at him.

After about a minute, he shifted uncomfortably. "What?"

I didn't respond, just continued to look at him with an unwavering gaze. Seeing the bruising starting to come to the surface around his bandage, I fought the urge to ask how his ego was taking to be knocked out by a woman. Asshole.

"You got something to say?" His voice was higher than I expected, already.

Silence.

"You got a problem, cop?" He stood, puffing out his chest in a show of bravado that might have been more convincing if his hands weren't trembling.

I remained silent, unmoving.

"This some kind of mind game? 'Cause I ain't saying shit."

Still, I said nothing. Just watched him. Memorized his face.

"Man, the shop owner was fine. I could have licked her like a barbequed pig."

I still said nothing.

The man paced his cell, agitation growing with each lap. "You're wasting your fucking time."

I stood abruptly. His eyes widened, and he took an involuntary step back. I almost smiled at that. Good. I picked up the chair.

"That's it?" He stood in the middle of the cell watching me.

I turned to look at him once more, letting him see exactly what I was thinking, what I wanted to do to him. His face paled.

"Ass," he whispered.

Without a word, I walked back to the entrance and handed the chair to Sang, whose expression was carefully neutral.

"Thank you," I told him quietly.

"What for, Sheriff?"

"For getting to the shop so quickly last night. For making sure she was taken care of. Good job."

He nodded, a hint of pride in his eyes. "Just doing our job, sir."

"Still. It matters."

As I headed back upstairs, Brooklyn intercepted me in the hallway.

"Boss, we've got the preliminary report from forensics from Blossoms. Lots of prints, most match Ruth's staff, but a few unknowns. They're running them now."

"Good, any word on the other two suspects?"

She shook her head. "Nothing yet. But we've got an APB out, and Law's team is looking too."

I nodded. "Speaking of Law, I need to update him. Hold down the fort. I'll be back."

Before leaving the parking lot, I made a quick call to the veterinary clinic.

"Whispering Pines Animal Hospital," a cheerful voice answered.

"This is Sheriff Trenton. I'm calling about Joey, Ruth Manchester's dog."

"Oh yes, Sheriff. Dr. Wright was expecting your call. Let me transfer you."

After a brief pause, a deeper voice came on the line. "Sheriff, good morning. I understand you're inquiring about our little warrior."

"How is he?"

"Stable. He has a cracked rib and a few little cuts from what I was told was glass, but no internal bleeding. We've got him on pain medication, but he's a tough little guy."

"When can he be released?"

A pause. "With proper home care, he could be released today. But Ms. Manchester would need to—"

"I'll be picking him up," I interrupted. "For now, if anyone calls asking about Joey, please tell them it's a police matter."

"Ah, why?"

"It's important for an ongoing investigation, I don't want the person who did this to know anything." I said, letting my tone convey that I wouldn't be answering any further questions. Being sheriff had its advantages.

Dr. Wright seemed to understand. "Alright, he'll be ready when you are."

"Thank you."

I hung up and headed out, the weight of the morning's events still heavy on my shoulders. My next stop: Law's office.

I found him at his desk, papers spread out before him, Mouse and Keyboard typing furiously at computers nearby. Law looked up as I entered, his expression immediately alert.

"You look like hell," he observed.

"Oh good, I was afraid I looked better than I felt."

"Coffee?" He nodded toward a chair. "How's Ruth?"

I sank into it, suddenly feeling every hour of missed sleep. "Beat up. Bruised. She was unconscious while I was there." I welcomed his coffee mug with a long sip of the steaming liquid. Damn, Law made a strong cup of coffee. Just what I needed.

Law's face darkened. "And the bastards who did it?"

"Got one in custody. The one Ruth knocked cold with a bucket of water. Other two are in the wind."

A ghost of a smile touched Law's lips. "A bucket of water? Remind me never to piss her off."

Despite everything, I found myself almost smiling too. "Yeah, she's... something else."

"Is there any evidence they are Michael's men?"

I nodded. "Last night, Sang reported that Ruth said they referred to someone called The Emperor. I haven't talked to her yet, she was sedated because of the pain when I saw her." I took another sip. "Oh, she did tell Sang after she'd been hit she heard a man say the scanner said the cops were coming."

Law's expression hardened. "So, that's how they keep tabs."

"There's a tough guy in my jail who might have some interesting things to say," I remarked casually. "If someone could get him to talk."

Law's eyebrow quirked up. "Is that an invitation, Sheriff?"

"Just sharing information with a colleague." I put my hand up. "Has to be on the up and up."

He nodded, understanding. "Of course, I wouldn't have it any other way. I'll stop by."

My phone buzzed. Holly's name flashed on the screen.

"Holly? What's up?"

"The hospital called, Ruth's been discharged," she informed me. "Her aunt picked her up about twenty minutes ago. The nurse said they were told they were going to Ruth's place."

My stomach tightened. "Thanks for letting me know."

I ended the call and looked up to find Law watching me with that perceptive gaze of his.

"Going to see her?" he asked.

"Need to pick up Joey from the vet first."

Law nodded. "Smart move. Hard to stay mad at a man who brings your injured dog home."

"I hope so." I began, "Tell me straight, you interested in Ruth?"

Law looked at me, "No, I'm not. For what it's worth, I think you two are good together. And anyone who has a problem with it can deal with me."

The unexpected support caught me off guard. "Thanks."

"Tobias, you deserve to be happy. It's hard for men like us to trust and open up when someone finally comes along that you can be the real you with. If Ruth makes you happy then don't wait."

"Wow, that's deep. Who knew there was a mind behind that pretty face." I side stepped avoiding the pen that came hurling across the room. Picking it up I tossed it back. "Thanks Law."

My phone rang just as I was approaching the front door. Evelyn Whitaker's name flashed on the screen.

"Evelyn? Everything okay?"

"Yes, I just spoke with Cameron." Her voice was tense. "About that woman you asked about, the one you found at the funeral home."

I turned and headed back to Law’s office putting my phone on speaker. "I’m with Law, you’re on speakerphone. Did Cameron recognize her?"

A confused Law caught on quickly. He moved around his desk and came to stand a few feet from me.

"He did. He said she was Michael's girlfriend. Or at least that's what he called her, but he said he never heard Michael refer to her like that. Even when Cameron asked about her, he was waved off with a sarcastic comment of some kind. He said he wasn’t ever introduced, so he doesn’t know her name. Cameron said every time he went to Michael’s office she was there or would show up. He thinks she might have lived in Micahel’s apartment on site." Evelyn paused. “None of us knew anything about her either.”

"Thank you, Evelyn. This helps." Law told her.

"Do you think..." she hesitated, "do you think he's coming back for us too?"

"No," I said with more confidence than I felt. "Don’t worry, you have round-the-clock protection. But stay vigilant."

After hanging up, I eyed Law. “Why would he all of a sudden kill her?”

“Tobias, if we’re going to try and understand why Michael does things we’re going to be spinning our wheels for a long, long time.”

“True.”

“I’ll see what the ladies can do with this new information. I’ll call you if they come up with anything.”

I nodded, leaving. I got in my truck. I felt like I was trying to put together the world's hardest puzzle, blindfolded. Michael's girlfriend, the break-ins, the attack on Ruth. It didn’t seem random. It felt like it was calculated, each move designed to either cover his tracks or hurt me personally.

I headed to the animal hospital. Joey looked even smaller than usual, bandages wrapped around his midsection, his normally bright eyes dulled by medication. But his tail gave a weak wag when he saw me, and something in my chest tightened.

"Hey, buddy," I murmured, gently taking him from the tech. He whimpered slightly but settled against my chest. "Let's get you home to mom." Another tail wag.

"Aww, he likes you." She said handing me a bag with his medications and instructions for his care.

"He and I have a long history, don't we?" Joey gave a small nuzzle.

"I can see that, now make sure he stays calm for at least a week. That rib is cracked, we don't want it breaking. I put his follow up appointment card in the bag."

"Got it," I assured her, cradling Joey gently as I carried him to my truck. Not wanting to pull him out of a carrier, I'd brought a soft blanket from home and arranged it in a box on the passenger seat. As I drove toward Ruth's house, anxiety gnawed at my gut. What would I say to her? How could I possibly explain or apologize for what had happened? Would she even want to see me? Joey watched me from his box, his dark eyes somehow knowing. I reached over and gently scratched behind his ears.

"I'm sorry buddy, I let you down too," I told him softly. "And if she won't talk to me, that's okay. You two can recover together."

Turning onto Ruth's street I realized how nervous I was. I've broken up armed domestic disputes. Fought in the Army, been in numerous situations that I had no idea how I was going to get out of. And all of that put together made me less stressed than facing Ruth.