Christmas Justice (Carder Texas Connections #7)(9)

“Sheriff—”

Laurel clutched the back of the seat, her fingers digging into the leather. She wanted to stop him from giving up his life, but she’d brought trouble to his town. She’d left him with no choice.

“We all have a past, Hondo. Mine just happened to ride in tonight. Something I have to deal with.”

Hondo nodded, and Laurel recognized the communication between the two men. The silent words made her heart sink with trepidation.

“Keep an eye on Deputy Keller. He’s young and eager, and he needs guidance.” Garrett drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Come to think of it, you’d make a good sheriff, Hondo. You’ve got the skills.”

“Nah.” Hondo’s expression turned grim. “I won’t fire a gun anymore, and I couldn’t put up with the mayor. He’s a—” Hondo glanced at Molly “—letch and a thief.”

“And willing to take a payoff. I should know. It’s how I became sheriff.”

Hondo’s eyebrow shot up. “You still did a good job. Best since I’ve lived here.”

Garrett shrugged and shifted the truck into Drive. “Goodbye, Hondo.”

A small woman with wild gray hair shuffled out of the motel, a bandage on her head. “Hondo?” her shaky voice whispered. “Cookies.”

Hondo’s expression changed from fierce to utter tenderness in seconds. “Now, sis, you’re not supposed to be out of bed. You’re just out of the hospital.” He sent Garrett an apologetic grimace.

“But you said you wanted to give them cookies,” she said, holding a bag and giving Hondo a bright smile.

Laurel studied the woman. She seemed so innocent for her age, almost childlike.

The older woman’s gaze moved to Garrett and she smiled, a wide, naive grin. “Hi, Sheriff. Hondo made chocolate chip today.”

“We can’t say no to Hondo’s famous cookies, Lucy.”

Garrett’s smile tensed, and his gaze skirted the streets. Did he see something? Laurel peered through the tinted windows. The roads appeared deserted.

Lucy passed the bag to Hondo. An amazing smell permeated the car through the open window.

Molly pressed forward against her seat belt. “Can I have one, Sheriff Garrett?”

Hondo glanced at Laurel, his gaze seeking permission. She nodded and Hondo pulled a cookie from the bag. “Here you go, little lady.”

With eager hands, Molly took the treat. She breathed in deeply, then stuffed almost the entire cookie into her mouth.

Lucy giggled. “She’s hungry.”

Hondo placed a protective arm around his sister. “They’ve got to leave, Lucy. Let’s go in.”

She waved. “’Bye.” Hondo led her back into the house, treating her as if she were spun of fragile glass.

Garrett rolled up the window, lights still off. He turned down the street. “She was shot in the head a couple months ago. We didn’t think she’d make it.”

Laurel wiped several globs of chocolate from Molly’s mouth. “You’ve made a place for yourself in this town.” She resettled the sleepy girl against her body. “I’m sorry.” What else could she say?

“They’ll find someone else. Things will continue just as they did before I came to Trouble.”

The muscle at the base of his jaw tensed, but Laurel couldn’t tell if he really didn’t mind leaving or if something about this small town had worked its way under his skin. She didn’t know him well enough to ask, so she kept quiet and studied the route he took. Just in case.

He headed west down one of the side streets almost the entire distance of town.

Laurel couldn’t stand the silence any longer. “Where are we going?”

Garrett met her gaze in the mirror. “I’m taking the long way to the preacher’s house. The church auxiliary keeps it ready, hoping they can convince a minister to come to Trouble. It’s been empty for almost a year.”

“We’re just hiding across town?”

“Sometimes the best place to hide is in plain sight,” Garrett said. “Besides, I want to do a little searching online. See what I can discover about your sister.”

“There was never a news report on the car bomb,” Laurel said quietly. On the way here, she’d searched frantically at any internet café or library she could. She kept expecting some news story on an investigation, but she’d seen nothing except a clipping about a tragic accident. In fact, they’d simply stated the entire family had perished in a vehicle fire.

She hugged Molly closer.

They’d lied.

“That tells us a lot.” Garrett stopped in the driveway of a dark house, jumped out and hit a code on a small keypad. The garage door rose.

“Small towns,” he said with a smile when he slid back behind the wheel. “I check the house weekly.”

“Is it safe?”

“The men who took the shot will assume we’re leaving town. I would. And I don’t want to be predictable.”

He pulled the SUV into the garage. The automatic door whirred down behind them, closing them in. Laurel let out a long breath. She hadn’t even realized she’d been holding it.

“We’re safe?”

“For the moment,” Garrett said, turning in his seat. “We need to talk.” His gaze slashed to Molly, leaving the rest of the sentence unsaid. Alone.