Page 4 of Dusty
Ms. Patti’s smile was the purest thing Sharon had seen in forever. There was a wholesomeness about the woman that engendered instant trust, and she really wanted to believe her. Let somebody else make the decisions for a while, because itseemed every one she’d made in the last few months created the havoc she currently dealt with.
“It’s freezing out here, and your drink must be stone cold by now. Let’s head into the diner, get something warm to drink, and talk about your options. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
“I wouldn’t mind something hot to drink, but I already ate. Dusty…Deputy Warner bought me breakfast at the bakery down the street.” Sharon gestured towardHow Sweet It Is, remembering the delicious cinnamon roll she’d eaten.
“Jill’s bakery. That woman is a wonder with flour and sugar. Puts everything I bake to shame.” Ms. Patti grinned. “Of course, it doesn’t hurt that I’m going to be her mother-in-law in a couple of months.” Grabbing the briefcase she’d placed by her feet, she stood and held out her hand to Sharon.
Staring at it for several seconds, she took a deep breath and grabbed it, accepting it for the lifeline it appeared to be. She didn’t have a clue how this day was going to go, but for the moment she would at least consider the offer of help. She’d listen to Ms. Patti’s idea about a place to stay, and see if maybe she could stop running, at least for a day or two. The thought of putting her head down, being able to sleep without keeping one eye open, was enticing.
In the quiet lull of the Shiloh Springs morning, as people started wandering down the sidewalks along Main Street, and voices murmured of new beginnings and hope for the holidays, Sharon realized that though the path ahead seemed murky, it shimmered with the promise of hope, and perhaps, a chance for a reprieve, a few days of not running, not looking over her shoulder for Cooper’s men.
With her internal resolve hardening like tempered steel, Sharon patted the envelope in the folds of her worn jacket. For now, she would let the subtle comfort of this small town, thekindness of the woman leading her into the diner, and the silent promise in Dusty Warner’s gaze, be enough to see her through until she could face those dark forces determined to keep her captive. She whispered a silent vow to herself: she would fight. She wouldn’t allow Cooper to get away with silencing her. Somehow, she’d find a way to bring him down, using the law and the truth.
The frost hadbarely started to form on the edges of Dusty’s windshield when he turned his patrol car onto the familiar road that led into Shiloh Springs. After feeding Sharon, and stuffing his own belly full of sugary goodness, he’d had to take one last call before his shift officially ended. One which ended up being a false alarm. That darned stray dog was turning into a nuisance, and he really hoped somebody caught the little bugger before somebody got hurt. For the past few weeks, he’d been chasing his four-legged nemesis, who always managed to stay one step ahead.
The sun had barely broken through the gray sky, casting long shadows over the sleepy little town. Pulling into a parking space on Main Street was sometimes a hit or a miss, depending on how busy the shops and eateries were, and the Christmas holiday made things even crazier. This morning, he managed to snag a spot right in front of the sheriff’s station.
The twinkling lights lining both sides of Main Street reminded him it was only two weeks before Christmas, and the decorations had been up since the day after Thanksgiving. Strung across the rooflines of each shop, and even wending through the town square where the courthouse for the county stood, the giant pine in front stood tall, covered in twinkling lights and colorful balls and baubles. The holiday cheer, though,felt like an afterthought to Dusty today. His mind was far from the season’s festivities, focused instead on the woman he’d rescued hours earlier.
Sharon Elliott.
Her name rolled through his mind again, as it had done every moment since he’d watched her leave Jill’s bakery and head down Main Street. She’d ended up on the bench in front of Daisy’s Diner. She was beautiful in a way that made him ache, but it wasn’t just her looks that had him intrigued. It was the way she’d looked at him, eyes wide and uncertain, as though fearful of him and what his uniform stood for. Yet she’d come to him when he’d stopped to help. Her story, about her car breaking down on that back road and her walk toward town just didn’t feel right. Why hadn’t she called for a service to pick her up? Even as small as Shiloh Springs was, they did have a couple of people who provided ride-share services for the extra money. And Frank’s garage provided towing services.
Instead, he couldn’t help thinking her reactions had been too…calculated.
When he’d reached for the sugar on the table, she’d flinched, her eyes darting toward his hand like he’d raised a fist. And the way she’d refused to let him call the mechanic—something about it had felt off too. She said she wanted to take care of it herself, but her tone had been too defensive. Too rehearsed.
Dusty’s gut twisted. He didn’t like how it made him feel. Didn’t like how much hewantedto trust her. Hewantedto believe she was simply a woman stranded in the middle of nowhere, with no other choice but to rely on the kindness of a stranger. But something in his bones told him there was more to her story.
Sitting behind the wheel of his cruiser, Dusty rubbed his jaw, felt the stubble scratch against his palm. His shift was over, but the need to know more about Sharon was gnawing at him. Hewas a sheriff’s deputy. It was his job to ask questions, to look deeper, to uncover the truth, no matter how uncomfortable.
He turned off the engine and got out of the car, his boots crunching over the thin layer of ice coating the asphalt. It wouldn’t last long; the ground was too warm, but the unexpected cold snap was likely to cause a few traffic mishaps, making him glad his shift was over. As he walked toward the station, the lights inside flickered, casting an amber glow on the concrete steps.
The door opened with a familiar creak, and Dusty stepped inside, immediately greeted by the alluring smell of coffee and the sugary sweetness of…something. He grinned. Rafe Boudreau, Shiloh Springs’ duly elected sheriff, sat behind his desk, booted feet propped up on the edge, a chocolate-covered donut in one hand and a coffee mug in the other.
The sheriff was a big man, broad-shouldered and a bit rough around the edges, but he had a sharp mind when it came to handling anything that threatened their town. Protective and caring, he was more than a colleague—he was Dusty’s best friend.
Dusty didn’t waste any time. “Got a minute?”
Rafe lowered his feet to the floor and gave him a sharp nod. “Always. What’s on your mind?”
“It’s a woman. Her name’s Sharon Elliott.” Dusty hesitated for a second, debating exactly what to say. “I found her this morning, out on Old Orchard Road. She says her car broke down, but something about her story’s not sitting right.”
Rafe leaned forward, placing the donut on a napkin. Dusty knew Rafe, knew he debated licking the chocolate staining his fingers. This time, he won the battle and refrained, instead wiping them on a second napkin. Dusty grinned. It was usually a fifty-fifty bet on whether Rafe would be able to resist the urge.
“What makes you say that?” Rafe asked the question before taking a sip of his coffee.
“Just…the way she acted.” Dusty rubbed the back of his neck. “She was jumpy, defensive. And when I offered to call Frank, she refused. Said she’d handle it herself.” He paused, considering the details. “I took her to Jill’s, got her something hot to drink, and one of Jill’s cinnamon rolls. She flinched when I reached for the sugar shaker on the table. Almost like she was expecting me to hurt her.”
Rafe raised an eyebrow. “You think she’s hiding something? Maybe she’s running from an abusive husband?”
“I don’t know what to think. I didn’t notice a wedding ring, but that doesn’t mean anything. She could have removed it. I feel like there’s more to her story. Hell, maybe she’s just a woman stranded in a strange place, but I can’t shake the feeling she’s in trouble. And not the kind of trouble that comes from a broken-down car.”
Rafe studied him for a long moment. “You know better than anyone that people come through here with all kinds of stories. And most of ’em are full of holes.” He leaned back in his chair. “Trust your instincts, Dusty. If you think she’s hiding something, dig. Let’s hope you’re wrong, and she’s simply leery about strangers—even ones in uniform.”
Dusty wanted to be wrong, wanted to believe Sharon was exactly who she said she was, but his gut insisted there was more to Sharon than what she’d told him. Something in him insisted Sharon wasn’t a threat to Shiloh Springs. No, if anything, she was the one in danger.
“I’ll start digging,” Dusty said, though his voice didn’t sound as confident as he wanted it to. “I hope I’m wrong, but there’s something more. I can’t shake it.”
