Thirty-One and a Half Regrets Page 94


I gasped.

Keeping his gun trained on me, Jeff glanced back at Mason. “Crocker didn’t even know you and Rose were involved. Hell, I didn’t know you were involved until after Crocker visited her house. I never intended for you to be dragged into this.”

He took two more steps toward me.

Mason shook his head. “But the investigation…If you were the leak, why have me keep working on it?”

“I was surprised when you approached me this summer, but I figured I could use it to my advantage. I hoped to pin everything on the sheriff. I’m your friend, Mason. We can work this out.”

Mason’s mouth dropped open. “If you believe that, you never really knew me at all.”

“Stop being so idealistic for once,” Jeff scoffed. “This is how the real world works. We can both take over—you as DA and me as sheriff. We can rule Fenton County.”

Mason shook his head in disbelief. “There’s no way in hell I’ll agree to that.”

Jeff took another step toward me and tossed his gun to the floor.

“Stop right there.” I jabbed the gun in his direction. “I’ll shoot you.”

“Will you? Now I’m unarmed, Rose. You could get in big trouble, and these two—” he pointed to Mason and Joe with a sly grin “—aren’t exactly unbiased witnesses. How would you like to do some prison time?”

I swallowed the lump of fear that had lodged in my throat.

“See, Rose? You don’t want to shoot me.” He was four feet in front of me now, reaching out his hand. “Just give me the gun.”

“Don’t listen to him, Rose,” Mason grunted. “No one will ever press charges.”

Changing tactics, Dimler dropped to his knees and put Mason in a chokehold, positioning his body behind Mason’s. “Put down the gun or I’ll strangle him.”

My hands shook.

“Just put it down and we’ll have a reasonable discussion.”

Mason’s face was turning red.

“You’d kill your own friend?” I asked in disbelief.

“He’s the one who turned his back on me.” Jeff cocked his head to look at me. “I’m guessing you’re not a good enough shot to make sure you miss Mason.”

“No,” Joe said, his words slurred. “But I am.”

A gunshot rang out and Dimler slumped to the ground with a groan, blood seeping from his right shoulder.

Mason hunched forward, gasping for air.

My gaze turned to Joe, who was propped up on his left elbow, the gun in his right hand still pointed at the deputy.

I ran to Mason first, setting my gun on the floor beside him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” His voice was hoarse. “Check on Joe and call the state police with his cell phone.” He picked up my gun and pointed it at the still-moving chief deputy.

I rushed over to Joe and sat next to him, fear washing over me at the sight of his bloody and swollen face. “Joe.” I choked down tears. “Are you okay?”

He forced open a swollen eye and pushed himself into a sitting position, grunting in the process. “Never been better, darlin’.” His familiar term of endearment made me cry harder. “Hey.” He covered my hand with his, exposing his bloody and swollen knuckles. “Don’t cry. I’ve been worse.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Help me get up, and I’ll go outside and call the state police. I’ll get better reception out there.” Joe glanced at Mason, who had scooted back toward the kitchen.

Mason nodded at him. “I’ll keep an eye on these two, although I don’t think Crocker is going anywhere.”

Crocker lay sprawled on the floor, his shirt soaked with blood. His eyes were open, his face expressionless.

“I killed him,” I said, my body swaying with the realization.

“Get her out of here.” Mason barked.

Joe climbed unsteadily to his feet and reached a hand toward me. “Come on, darlin’. Let’s get you some fresh air.”

I took his hand, being careful of his knuckles, and he pulled me out the door and into the front yard. He led me to a wrought iron and wood slat bench under a tree. “Head between your knees,” he said after I sat. “Just like the night we first met.”

I lowered my head and took in deep gulps of air.

He sat down next to me, rubbing my back in slow, soft circles. “You didn’t have a choice, Rose. You saved my life. Thank you.”

I sat up, tears streaming down my face. “I couldn’t let him kill you.”

He winked—or tried to with his swollen eye. “I appreciate that.”

I took a deep breath.

“Can you get my cell phone out of my pants pocket?” he said. “I’d get it myself but…” He held up his bloody hand.

I nodded.

He stood and moved in front of me. I reached into his right pocket and pulled his phone out. The familiarity of knowing which pocket he kept his cell phone in made me uncomfortable, as well as the intimate contact. I held it out to him without comment.

Joe sat down and called Brian, his good friend in the state police department, filling him in on what had happened.

When he hung up, he handed me the phone and I held it in my lap.

We sat in silence for several moments.

“You came,” I whispered. “Even when I was ugly and told you not to.”

“Of course I did, Rose,” he said, his voice husky. “How could I not? I don’t care where you are or who you’re with. I’ll always come if you ever need me.”

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