A Family of Her Own (Dundee, Idaho #3)(66)
Author: Brenda Novak

“Katie would’ve said something,” Clanahan insisted.

“So why is he hiding it?” Orton asked. “Tell me that.”

Booker kept his eyes hooded. He knew his insolent expression angered Orton, and couldn’t resist for that reason. “What I do with my own property is my business. I can shoot it full of holes if I want, right? Just so long as I own it.”

Orton’s jaw tightened and his eyes glittered coldly. “Listen to him, Chief. Are we really gonna let him wriggle out of this?”

“Wriggle out of what?” Clanahan said. “Unless you boys found something else at his place today, something you didn’t tell me about that ties him to the Small robbery or some other crime, we don’t have anything to hold him on. The mayor’s already called here twice. I’m not pushing this any further.” He shoved the Bill of Sale off to the corner of his desk. “Now, you two take Booker home.”

Orton shook his head and cursed under his breath, but when Clanahan fixed him with a pointed glare, he looked at Booker and muttered, “Come on.”

Releasing a long, silent sigh, Booker followed Orton across the reception area.

Bennett moved ahead of them and held the door.

“Where’d you put the stuff you took from Jon Small?” Orton asked as soon as Booker stepped outside.

“You tell me,” Booker said with a taunting grin. “You boys are the ones who searched my house and my shop.”

“This isn’t over,” Orton promised.

“I agree with you there,” Booker said and headed to the patrol unit.

WHEN ORTON PULLED OVER a mile outside of town, Booker stiffened in surprise. “What now?” he asked from the back seat of the same police cruiser they’d used to bring him into the police station earlier.

“Let him out,” Orton said to Bennett, who was riding in the passenger seat.

Bennett shot a surprised glance at Orton, then seemed to take in the raw land on both sides of the dark highway. “What? Here? He’s probably a good twelve miles from home.”

“And I’m not driving him a mile closer. If this ass**le wants to get home, he can friggin’ walk.”

“Clanahan said—”

“Clanahan’s not here.”

“But—”

“But nothing. Let him out.”

“Clanahan won’t like it,” Bennett said.

Orton arched a challenging brow. “And who’s gonna tell him?”

Worry creased Bennett’s forehead as he looked back at Booker. “What if he does?”

Orton shrugged, and a menacing smile curled his lips. “I’ll just tell Chief he was cursing and calling me names and generally making my life miserable, so I refused to take him any farther. We don’t have to give him a ride home. It’s a courtesy. Anyway, it’ll be his word against ours. Who do you think Clanahan’s going to believe?”

Bennett hesitated, but Booker knew he’d cave in eventually. Bennett wasn’t strong enough to fight Orton on anything. “Whatever, man,” he said.

Orton jerked his head toward the door. “Get going.”

A moment later, Booker slid out of the car while Bennett held the door. In a previous time, Booker would have evened the score between him and Orton. But he was determined not to let Orton get under his skin. Allowing his temper and his outrage to get the better of him would only complicate matters. He’d learned that the hard way. Now he had a home and a successful business to take care of, and he had Delbert to think about. Delbert would be shipped off to that special home in Boise almost immediately if Booker ever went to jail for any length of time.

“Maybe you boys should start looking for whoever’s robbing the good citizens of Dundee instead of wasting your time harassing me,” he said.

Bennett slammed the door and climbed back in front.

“Except that I’m pretty sure we don’t have to look any farther than right here,” Orton said, chuckling.

Booker bent down to see Orton’s mocking face through Bennett’s open window. “Which doesn’t say much for the intelligence of our police force.”

Orton’s smile faded, and he stepped on the gas, spewing dirt and gravel as he wheeled around and headed back to town.

His jaw and hands clenched, Booker stood watching until the cruiser’s taillights disappeared. What he wouldn’t give for five minutes alone with Orton, he thought, and started walking.

THE POLICE STATION WAS locked up tight. Katie knew that either Orton or Bennett patrolled Dundee each night until the Honky Tonk closed, catching drunk drivers and breaking up fights. But she hadn’t seen a cruiser as she passed through town, and had no idea where Orton or Bennett might be. So she decided to drive out to the farmhouse to see if maybe Booker had come home since she’d tried calling there.

When she arrived, she found Booker’s truck sitting in the drive and his motorcycle parked just inside the garage. She could also see Delbert through the kitchen window, pacing worriedly, his lips moving constantly as though he was muttering to himself.

Taking Troy with her, she knocked on the door. Delbert glanced up and seemed to recognize her, but he wouldn’t respond. He just kept pacing and muttering.

Katie tried the door and, fortunately, found it unlocked. “Delbert?” she said, carrying Troy inside.

Delbert blinked faster and increased the speed of his pacing, but that was it.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

No answer.

“Where’s Booker?”

Again, no response. But when she paused long enough, she could hear what he was muttering.

“He’ll be back soon. He said he’ll be back. They won’t put him in jail. He lives here. He hasn’t done anything wrong. He’ll be back soon. He said so. They won’t put him in jail….”

She’d never seen Delbert so agitated. “Well, now I know why you’re not answering the phone,” she said. “This whole thing has you in quite a state.”

Setting Troy’s infant seat on the floor, she went over to stop Delbert’s rapid movements and capture his full attention. “Delbert, listen to me,” she said, touching his arm while using the most soothing voice she could muster.

He kept muttering, but he didn’t fight her.

“I’m going to find Booker, okay?”

His frantic eyes latched on to her face.

“You don’t have to worry about him. Everything will be okay. Do you understand?”