“Did Joe hurt you?” I asked. I needed to know. If he did, I’d kill him.
She didn’t blink. Her face didn’t move. But her head shook. I pressed my lips together and nodded. “Okay. Okay.”
Kissing her forehead, I pulled her into my chest again, reassuring her that everything was all right and that she was safe now.
“I want to lie down,” Grace mumbled.
I helped her into bed. She sat down, swung her legs over, and laid back, staring up at the ceiling. It was all very robotic, like she was just going through the motions. Her eyes were spellbound by the off-white popcorn ceiling. The sirens shut off but I could see the yard lit up with flashing lights.
“The police are here. I’ve got to go talk to them.”
I wanted to ask her what happened, what Joe had said to her, what he had done, but it was like she was in a trance. I’m not sure if she was in shock or something else.
“Are you okay alone for a bit?”
She didn’t speak. She just rolled onto her side, facing away from me.
I stood there for a moment not wanting to leave her. But I knew I had to.
Outside, a deputy was talking to Joe. He had to have been new because I had never seen him around before. Joe was seated on the steps of the porch with his head in his hands. Albert was nowhere to be seen. Must have wandered off when he saw the sirens coming.
“What the hell happened here?” the deputy asked, glancing in my direction as I let the screen door close behind me. “We got a 911 call from a woman. Where is she?”
The deputy put a hand on his hip and let out a deep breath. Another cruiser rolled up the driveway. Sheriff Almond stepped out of it, straightening his belt buckle.
“What’s going on, Deputy?” the sheriff asked.
“Just arrived, sir. We got a call from a woman asking for police assistance.”
Sheriff Almond took in the scene, eyeing up Joe and then me. He cleared his throat. “This is my third time out here in a week.”
“I know, sir. I just got here.” I shuffled my feet. “Grace, the woman you met the other day, called.”
“Well, I’m going to need to talk to her then. Where is she?” Sheriff Almond cocked his head.
“Lying down in her room.”
“Is she okay?” the deputy asked.
I glared at the back of Joe’s head. “Yeah, I think so.”
“I need to see her now.” His tone matched the serious look on his face.
He took a step toward me and his hand went to his pistol. I’m not sure if it was instinctual or he genuinely thought Joe or I were a threat—that we had done something to Grace.
Joe huffed, throwing his hands up. “Just take me down to the station. I’m drunk, and I started a fire.”
“I’ll deal with you later.” The sheriff scowled at Joe but then returned his gaze to me. “First, I need to check on Grace.”
Joe got to his feet, wobbly. It took him a moment to get his balance, and when he did, he put his hands in front of his stomach. “Just leave her out of this. Go ahead and arrest me. I know you want to.”
“Sit back down,” the deputy commanded, pointing to the stairs. He clenched his jaw and retrieved the pistol from his belt.
“Jesus,” Joe said, putting his hands up and falling back into a sitting position.
I took a step back.
“Deputy, you stay out here with this goon,” Sheriff Almond gestured to Joe. “I’ll go and talk to her.”
The deputy nodded but kept his gun in his hand, carefully watching my dumbass brother.
I opened the screen door and led the way.
Sheriff Almond followed behind. His hand hovered over his pistol. He took a quick look around the living room, surveying the damage from the fire. His eyes were intense. They scanned back and forth between my hands and my head as if he was anticipating a move on my part.
“Keep going,” he said.
I walked down the hallway deliberately, keeping my hands at my sides, so I’d give him no reason to put one of those bullets in me. But sometimes you didn’t need a reason.
In front of Grace’s door, I turned back slowly toward the sheriff. “She’s in there.”
He tapped my shoulder, gesturing me to move aside. He knocked on the door three times.
“Grace, it’s Sheriff Almond with the Dubois Sheriff’s Department.” He kept an eye on me while waiting for Grace to open the door. It was dead quiet and nothing stirred on the other side.
Growing impatient, the sheriff turned the doorknob and pushed open the door. He flicked on the light, revealing Grace lying on the bed with her back facing him.
“Grace,” he said again. There was concern in his voice. He looked at me and then took a couple steps toward the bed so he was standing over her. I waited just outside the room, peering inside.
“Grace.”
She didn’t stir. She lay completely still. He bent down and placed his hand on her shoulder, shaking it. Grace jolted up into a sitting position. Her quick movement startled him, and he nearly leapt back.
She rubbed at her eyes. “What?”
“You called the police, Grace. I’m here to check on you. To make sure you’re all right.”
She pulled the blanket up higher and brought her knees to her chest, hesitating with her response. Her eyes swung back and forth between the sheriff and me like she had something she wanted to say. I was scared, scared she was going to ask for a ride out of town.
“I’m fine,” she finally landed on.
I let out a sigh of relief.
Sheriff Almond tilted his head and then turned back toward me. “Give us a moment.”
I nodded. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”
“Close the door,” he said.
I didn’t want to but I did as he asked. I hoped it wouldn’t be a mistake.
41.
Grace
Sheriff Almond was seated on the end of the bed, taking notes on a small pad of paper. His eyes were shifty like he didn’t believe anyone, and he was right not to. We were all lying.
“And you’re sure he didn’t hurt you?”
“No, he just scared me.” I grabbed the glass of water from the nightstand and sipped. It went down like I was swallowing a potato.
He nodded and scribbled in his notepad. “When do you leave, Grace?”
My hands shook as I placed the glass back on the coaster. “The day after tomorrow.”
“Good.”
“Good?” I questioned.
“It’s just better you leave. I’ve got a sixth sense for trouble, and this ranch reeks of it.” He squinted his eyes, punctuating his warning to me.
“Am I safe here?”
The sheriff sucked on his front teeth, trying to decide on what to say, what the right answer was, if there was a right answer. He couldn’t go around throwing accusations he had no proof of.
“You’ll be all right,” he finally landed on. Sheriff Almond closed up his little notepad and slid it into the front pocket of his shirt. He stood, pulling a card from his belt. “If you need anything, and I mean anything, call me,” he said, handing over his business card.
I flipped it over several times in my hand, deciding if I should tell him anything more. Was what Joe said true? Was Calvin driving the night Lisa was killed? Had he framed his own brother? Joe said he didn’t remember anything, so how would he know? And what had Charlotte told him? Whatever she said could have been a lie. She was so hurt by Calvin rejecting her, she’d probably do just about anything to hurt him back. Then, there was the missing woman. I looked up at the sheriff.