Page 27 of Break My Fall

Gray sat back. Winston Hardaway was Chief Kirby’s son-in-law. “How do you know them?”

Meredith ran a hand through her hair. “Winston is the same age as Cal’s older brother, Chad. Gossamer Falls High played Neeson High in most sports. We don’t play them as often now because they’re a smaller school. Winston was a phenomenal basketball player. He and Chad weren’t friends, but they were friendly. They wound up at a lot of the same camps and got along reasonably well. He has a scar on his temple. The story was he got it mountain biking.”

“You don’t believe it?”

“I never thought to question it until I started hanging out in Neeson. Lots of folks with random scars in Neeson. Makes you wonder.”

Gray made a note on the legal pad to mention the scars to the undercover agent. It might be nothing. Might be important.

“What about Trace?”

“Never met him or heard of him until this past year. His wife brings his kids in.”

“And?”

“He comes with them.”

“And that’s weird?”

“It doesn’t have to be. It isn’t always. But with him? Yeah. It’s weird. My clinic is tiny. I let an adult come in with the kids, but just one. He doesn’t like that. Wanted to know why he couldn’t come in too. I told him he was welcome to if he could fit. Or he could come in instead of his wife. He didn’t want to do that.”

“So he gave you a bad vibe?”

She gave him an apologetic look. “I told you I don’t really know anything. It’s a lot of thoughts, maybes, inklings, vibes. Not facts.”

“You don’t have to have facts to be right.”

“Fine. Then yes. He gives off a bad vibe. His kids aren’t afraid of him, but they’re still very young. His wife is flat-out terrified and so are other people. When they show up, there’s tension in the people waiting. Last time, there were at least five people in front of them, but somehow they wound up next in line. When I asked about it, Mrs. Ledbetter said her husband had somewhere to be and had asked the others if they would mind if they jumped the line.”

Despite the seriousness of the conversation, Gray had to bite back a smile. Meredith was such a mother hen. It had offended her, on the others’ behalf, that they’d been taken advantage of.

“There wasn’t anything I could do.” Meredith hopped up and started pacing the small area in front of his desk. “I wouldn’t have caught the subtext the first time. Maybe not the second. But by the third, I knew the people and the routine. Mrs. Ledbetter would never jump the line, but Trace didn’t hesitate. He has something on those people.”

“Did anyone say anything about it?”

“Obliquely. When the Ledbetters left, my next patient was someone close to my age. She’s friendly. We talk about music and hiking. So I said something like, ‘Mrs. Ledbetter sure did appreciate you letting them take your spot in line.’”

Meredith tapped the back of the chair with her fist. “She looked at me and said, ‘Dr. Quinn, he don’t wait in line in Neeson. Not at the post office, not at the diner, and sure enough not at the dentist.’ Then she looked like she wanted to cram every word she’d said back in her mouth so I just said, ‘Good to know.’ And I changed the subject.”

“You didn’t leave it there, though, did you?”

Meredith looked like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “No. I used a database of Mo’s to look up Trace Ledbetter.”

“And?”

“And I think he might be the scariest man I’ve ever met.”

EIGHT

Meredith walked to the bookshelf in Gray’s office. She couldn’t deny the way her confession had lifted a burden from her. A weight she hadn’t noticed until it was gone.

It was nice, having someone else understand. But why did it have to be Gray who shared the load?

“You’re good at that.” She touched a small rock that sat on the shelf, shiny and smooth like it had come from a river. Or maybe it had been handled so often it had worn down.

“I’m going to need you to be more specific.”

The teasing tone had her turning to face him. “Are you messing with me?”

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