Page 37 of Risk of a Lifetime
She watched him climb under the car one more time. A succession of Sheriff Davis, Deputy Evans, and Patrolman Kennett joined him one at a time. When he finally rolled from underneath and stood, JB clutched his arm against his side. She could tell yesterday’s injuries had been forgotten in today’s craziness, but his body still remembered. After examining the bag of evidence in his hand, he handed it to the sheriff.
JB’s gaze briefly locked with her own then he started toward her. She met him halfway.
“The sheriff’s going back to town so he can keep an eye on the vehicles.” He tucked a windblown strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve still got some work to do up the road a ways, so why don’t you go along with him?”
Trust and tenderness surrounded her. “I’ll wait here. For you.”
His expression conveyed worry, tiredness. “Okay, but I want you to sit in Evans’s cruiser. Or at least stand beside it where you can jump in if anyone or anything doesn’t feel right. Understand?”
“I will. I promise I will.”
She longed to feel his arms around her while he told her everything would be okay. As if reading her mind, he pulled her against his chest and bent to kiss the top of her head. Her arms circled him, and even though he flinched as she brushed the big bruise on his side, he held her close.
For a moment, it was like old times. Marcy and JB Bradley, full in love. Where nothing mattered but them being together, even if the world around collapsed.
“We’re ready, JB,” Evans shouted as the tow truck pulled away with its load.
Releasing his hold on her, JB nodded to the men, and the hardcore set of his jaw returned. “You be careful of anyone you’re not really, really sure about, Marcy. That includes clients or anyone you get a bad vibe from. Anyone.”
She grabbed his arm. “Surely, my clients wouldn’t hate me this much.”
Chapter Twelve
Hours later, Marcy sat in her uncle’s office at the police station. JB sat in the main room, scouring the evidence from the accident. No, “accident” wasn’t the right word—attempted murder. Every police officer around used those words. Evidently, she’d skyrocketed to number-one priority for the Crayton Police Department.
JB, Uncle Cal, and Evans joined her, each nonchalantly taking a chair in a very friendly cop mode. Did they think she was stupid? They were there to pick her brain. Try to unlock leads she wouldn’t even know existed in her thoughts. Of course, she’d play the game.
“Where’s my food?” she asked. Hunger had long since made itself known.
“Kennett’s gone to pick up the food from Joanie’s.” JB leaned his straight-back chair against the wall. He flinched when he slid his hands behind his head.
“How’s your side?”
“Fine.” The look he shot her meant,Don’t ask in front of other people. “Now, we need to figure out who might have a reason to target you.”
“No one.” She straightened and interwove her fingers. Flexed them like the rhythm of breaths, in and out, in and out, faster and faster.
JB reached over and covered her hands, squeezing in his gentle way. “It’s okay, sugar. There’s nothing to be nervous about.”
Bobbing her head, she unlinked her fingers and placed her hands on the desk in front of her. “I know you need my help, so I’ve been trying to think of anything I’ve done to make someone mad. And I can’t come up with anything.”
Her uncle moved a notepad in front of him. “What say we ask you some questions?”
“Okay.” That would be better. She could answer questions.
“Let’s start with the robbery…Leon…his wife.”
The sheriff might have been the one to ask the question, but Evans and JB watched her intently as she replied. Jotted their own notes.
JB plopped his chair down on its four legs, bracing his elbows on his knees. “Tell me about the papers Representative Benson served you.”
“How did you know that?” She hadn’t said a word concerning the almost lawsuit to anyone but her sister. “Betsy…Betsy shouldn’t have told you.”
“Don’t blame her. I asked if anybody had bothered you while I was gone.”
Marcy jumped to her feet. “Why should you care? You sure didn’t when you walked out the door.”
He stood. “Got that a little wrong, don’t you?” Nose to nose, he stared right back and never blinked. “You’re the one who packed my duffle and parked it on the front porch that night. Locked yourself in the bedroom after you stuck a sign on the door saying you didn’t need my attention anymore.”
