Someone Like You Page 32



The little man in the suit blanched. “Sheriff, that’s not necessary, is it? These are good people, just having a little fun.”


Mac knew he could arrest them all, but what was the point? They hadn’t started the trouble. That honor lay elsewhere.


“Where’s Rudy?” he asked.


“Mr. Casaccio doesn’t discuss his plans with me.”


“Fine. You and your staff are going to stay right here. The rest of you.” He glanced at the crowd gathering by the door. “Take it slow down the stairs. I don’t want any pushing.”


While they left, he called for backup. When D.J. arrived along with one of the other deputies, Mac arrested Rudy’s employees and left D.J. in charge of taking them in.


Los Lobos wasn’t that large, he told himself as he drove away. He would be able to find a long black limo, then have a little chat with the owner.


Two streets over he saw the vehicle in question in front of Bill’s Mexican Grill. Mac pulled in behind, close enough that the limo couldn’t get out, then walked toward the restaurant.


It was still early for the lunch crowd, especially on a Saturday. He had no trouble spotting Rudy, although the gangster’s companion didn’t make him happy. Mayor Franklin Yardley sat across from Rudy.


As Mac approached, the two men glanced up. Rudy shifted toward the wall of their booth.


“Sheriff Kendrick, join us.”


“No, thanks.”


He kept his gaze on Rudy, watching for any kind of reaction. But Rudy was too smooth and practiced for that. He raised his eyebrows expectantly.


“What is it, Mac?” the mayor asked.


“Ask your friend.”


Rudy swirled his glass of iced tea and looked pleasantly baffled. “I have no idea why you’re here.”


“The room above the barbershop is being used for gambling. I thought I’d find out what you know about it.”


“Nothing at all,” Rudy said smoothly.


Franklin frowned. “Sheriff, are you accusing Mr. Casaccio of something?”


Mac glared at him. “You got that right. Your friend here is bringing his dirty business to our town. Don’t you get that? He’s out for a buck and he doesn’t care who or what gets destroyed in the process.”


Franklin frowned. “Those are pretty serious accusations. Do you have any evidence?”


“His employees are running the place.”


Rudy sipped his tea, then picked up a tortilla chip. “Interesting. Except for Mr. Smith—” he nodded at the small table next to the booth where the suit-clad body guard sat over a plate of enchiladas “—and the driver of my car, I have no employees in town. I’m here strictly on holiday.”


Annoyance grew into anger. Mac turned to the mayor. “You can’t be blind to this. Your town is being overrun by organized crime. Sure, now it’s just a friendly game of poker, but then what? Can’t you see this is already escalating?”


“Sheriff, you’re accusing one of our leading citizens of some fairly serious charges. Do you have any evidence?”


Mac stared at the two of them. Was Franklin so deeply in Rudy’s pockets that he refused to see the truth? Or did the man seriously think Rudy wouldn’t destroy Los Lobos?


As for evidence, Mac knew there wasn’t any. The people they’d arrested would claim to have never met Rudy Casaccio, much less worked for him. No doubt a very experienced, very expensive lawyer would show up to get them out on bail and when the time came for trial, the judge would dismiss all charges. He’d seen it hap pen before, but he never thought it would happen here.


“I’ll find a way to nail you for this,” Mac said.


Rudy sighed. “And here I’d wanted to make a sizable contribution to your campaign. Aren’t you running in November?”


“I don’t need money from you.”


“Sometimes we don’t know what we need, Sheriff. Just remember, I’m always willing to be a friend.”


“No, thanks.” Mac glanced at Franklin. “You’re making a big mistake. He’s taking you places you don’t want to go, and if you can’t see that, you’re a bigger idiot than I thought.”


With that, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the restaurant. Temper fueled him until he wanted to punch something. Anything. Dammit all to hell, this could not be happening.


Too angry to drive, he left the car by the restaurant. Let Rudy have to call the station to get it moved so he could get his limo out.


Two blocks later, Mac wasn’t any closer to calming down. Why was he the only one who saw the truth about Rudy? Everyone else thought he was God’s gift to Los Lobos. Jill was his friend, the mayor was his slave and even Bev was dating the guy. It didn’t make sense. Was he the only one who—


“Hey, you. Sheriff.”


Mac turned toward the man on the corner. He stood across the street from the sheriff’s office. Medium height, sandy-blond hair and mean-looking. Mac clenched his fists. He was more than in the mood for a fight.


“Is there a problem?” he asked, his voice thick with menace. Anyone with a brain would know to back away. This guy only moved closer.


“Yeah, there’s a problem. You’re the problem.” The man approached, stopping less than a foot in front of Mac. “Where do you get off bugging my wife?”


“What?”


“You heard me.”


Mac had heard all right, but it didn’t mean anything. “What are you talking about?”


“You went to see my wife the other day. She didn’t tell me because she thought I’d be mad, and she was right about that.” The man leaned in close. “Keep your stinking hands off her.”


Mac could only think of one woman he’d visited in the past few days. “You’re Kim Murphy’s husband,” he said. “Andy.”


“That’s right.”


Mac turned his back and headed for the office. “I don’t have time to deal with you and your crap.”


He heard Andy run up behind him. “Come on, you coward pig,” Andy yelled. “Don’t walk away from me.”


Mac couldn’t believe it. He stopped and turned to face Andy. “You don’t want to do this,” he said.


“I sure do. Where the hell do you get off talking to my wife? She’s mine, you hear?”


“She’s your wife, not your possession, you disgusting piece of shit. You have no right to treat her the way you do. If you’re looking for a fight, go beat up on someone your own size.”


Andy’s eyes brightened with temper. “You volunteering? Because I’m happy to take you on.”


Mac shook his head. “You and what army? You’re a bully. You wouldn’t dare hit someone who would fight back. You might get hurt. You’re the kind of man who gets his kicks beating up on defenseless women. You’re disgusting.”


Color darkened Andy’s face. “She’s my wife, which is the same as saying she’s my dog. I’ll do anything I want to her and you can’t stop me.”


Mac felt his control slip. He tried to grab it, then figured what the hell. He punched Andy square on the jaw. The man staggered a few steps and shot out his fist, but Mac avoided it easily. Two more well-placed blows and the whole thing was over. Andy knelt on the asphalt, holding his nose and groaning. Mac stood over him, un touched and knowing he’d just made a really big mistake.


Seconds later the front doors of the sheriff’s office banged open and everyone on duty poured into the street.


“What happened?” Wilma asked. “You got in a fight?”


Mac glanced from his bleeding knuckles to Andy’s battered face. His stomach balled into a knot.


Andy staggered to his feet. “He jumped me. He can’t do that, even if he’s the sheriff. He just beat the crap out of me and I want him arrested and thrown in jail.”


CHAPTER SIXTEEN


JILL HAD BARELY FINISHED her brief conversation with Riley Whitefield when the phone rang again.


“Law offices,” she said.


“Jill? It’s Wilma. You need to get down here right away. Mac was just in a fistfight and the guy wants to press charges.”


Still clutching the phone, Jill stood and grabbed her purse. “What? Wilma, you’re not making sense. Mac was in a fight?”


“Oh, yeah. He cracked the guy good. I’m not saying he didn’t deserve it, but he sure doesn’t need the trouble. Not now.”


Jill wasn’t sure which “he” they were talking about, but she decided it didn’t matter.


“I’ll be right there. Don’t let Mac leave until I get there.”


“Don’t worry. He’s not going anywhere for a while. We have to figure out how to keep from arresting him.” With that, the older woman hung up.


“Arresting him?” Jill repeated as she raced to the front of the office and quickly locked the door. “They can’t do that.”


Arrest Mac? Not only would that seriously impact his ability to do his job, what about the custody issues with Emily? There were some basic requirements put in place by the courts and one of them was to stay out of trouble. Getting arrested could fall into that category.


She had the BMW with her, so the trip across town took less than ten minutes. She parked and rushed inside to find the place in bedlam. Deputies were standing around talking about how Mac had done the right thing. Mac sat on the corner of a desk with a bag of ice wrapped around his knuckles. Wilma hovered over him, clucking like a mother hen, and in a back office, a man gestured wildly while blood trickled from his nose.


“Not good,” Jill muttered under her breath. She might specialize in corporate law, but she knew enough about how the world worked to suspect Mac was in a truck load of trouble.


“What happened?” she asked as she pushed through the deputies and approached Mac. “Are you okay?”


He looked at her and she was relieved to see he wasn’t hurt. Well, except for his knuckles.


Mac’s dark blue eyes seemed filled with pain, but not the physical kind. “I’m completely screwed,” he muttered.


“Not necessarily. He punched you first, right?”


Wilma shooed the deputies away, while Mac shrugged and said, “I’m not sure he got a punch off.”


The girly part of her was pleased her man was such a good fighter. The lawyer part winced.


“Tell me what happened. Start from the beginning.”


Mac explained about Andy approaching him and how he’d told him to stay away from Kim.


“He said she was his wife, which was the same as saying she was his dog and he could do anything he wanted.”


“Then he threatened you,” Jill said, trying to get it all straight.


“No, he threatened me before. I punched him after the dog comment.”


“But he did threaten you.”


“Sure.”


“At least that’s something.”


Mac glanced back at the rear office where Andy held a cloth to his nose. “Someone get him out of here. Take him to the hospital.”


D.J. moved closer. “You think that’s a good idea, boss? Should we just take him home and let him cool off?”


Jill knew what the deputy was thinking. A trip to the hospital meant paperwork, which could later be used as evidence.


Mac narrowed his gaze. “Take him to the hospital now. Then have someone drive him home. We’ll get his car to him later. In the meantime, send someone to his house to get Kim out of there for a few hours. She can’t be around when he’s released from the hospital. He’ll want to take his pain out on someone and I don’t want that to be her.”


“I’ll take care of Kim,” Wilma said as she collected her purse from her desk drawer. “I used to know her mother before she moved to L.A. I’ll go over for a visit.”

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