The Healer (14 page)

“Yep,” Shug said. “So…I saw you caught a ride to work.”

She tossed some powdered creamer and sugar packets into his sack.

“Um…yes, I did. Glad not to have to walk through all that snow and slush. Hang on, Shug. Harold has your order. I’ll be right back.”

She came back, slipped the to-go box in the bag and totaled up the order. “That will be six dollars and fifty-four cents.”

Shug counted out the money and picked up his sack, but still lingered, eyeing Luce closely. “Was that Miz Bridie’s old truck I saw you riding in?”

“Yes.”

“Who was driving?”

Luce laughed nervously. “My gosh, Shug. Are you writing my biography or something?”

Shug had the grace to blush. “Oh. Well. I didn’t mean to pry none.”

Luce grinned. “Yes, you did, but that’s all right. I’ve really got to get back to work, though.”

“You still didn’t tell me who was driving,” Shug said.

Luce sighed. “It was Jonah. Bridie hired him to work for her this winter.”

Shug nodded. “So…he gives you a ride to work now?”

“Shug! For goodness’ sakes,” Luce said. “Your food is getting cold.”

Shug grinned, shrugged and finally left.

Luce breathed a sigh of relief when he was gone and quickly returned to the other customers.

In an ordinary week, she usually served the same people every day. And it was very likely that in doing so, she’d been serving her stalker his food, cleaning up his dirty dishes, even taking his tips. She paused to look about the room, studying each and every face, trying to imagine one of these familiar people being evil enough to put her through such hell.

She didn’t see the evil in any of them, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there.

“Hey, Luce. Order up!” Harold called.

She headed for the kitchen, and the day passed.

It was sometime after two before Luce had a minute to herself. Without going into details, she told Harold she needed to run an errand, took the envelope of notes and headed up the street to the sheriff’s office.

Tom Mize had been the sheriff in Little Top for almost ten years. The worst things he’d ever had to deal with were car wrecks. Every so often one of the Bateman boys would take a brother’s car or boat without asking, which always caused a stir. Once one of them had even taken his brother’s wife. But those situations usually worked themselves out—even the wife. Eventually they’d both dumped her and sent her packing.

This afternoon he was at his desk, writing up a report about an alien abduction of one of Ida Mae Coley’s tomcats, despite his best efforts to convince her that it was most likely holed up somewhere, waiting for the snow to melt.

He had to admit that there had been a rash of disappearing pets in and around town, but he figured it was some varmint from off the mountain coming down to do a little in-town shopping of its own.

As he finished the report, he absently reached toward his shirt pocket. When he realized it was flat and that there was a reason his usual package of cigarettes wasn’t in there, he sighed. He’d been trying to quit smoking for almost a week, and in a fit of need, had sent the deputy on desk duty to the supermarket to buy him a snack. He was expecting a cold Pepsi and a package of Ding Dongs at any moment, and he needed it bad. When he heard the door open, he looked up, anticipating the food that would get him past the need to smoke.

Only it wasn’t the deputy who walked in; it was Luce Andahar. When he saw the envelope she was carrying and the look on her face, his frown deepened. This looked like work, which was something he didn’t much like.

As Luce entered the office, the knot in her belly tightened just enough to make her heart skip a beat. She didn’t know why she was so nervous around lawmen, but figured it had something to do with their connection to her life. It was a police uniform that she first remembered seeing after the wreck that had killed her family. And it had been the police who’d been on her case for running away from her uncle’s home, until she’d reached the age of consent. Now this. How could she explain the gut-wrenching fear of knowing someone was watching her every move?

Tom Mize eyed her expression, then ventured a quick sweep of her body before giving her his full attention.

“Miss Andahar…how can I help you?”

She walked up to his desk, turned the manila envelope upside down and let all the notes spill out onto his desk.

“Here, now!” Mize said, as he grabbed at them to keep them from sliding everywhere. “What’s this all about?”

“Do you remember a few months ago when I came to you with a threatening letter that I’d received from an unknown stalker?”

Mize frowned. “I wouldn’t call a note from a secret admirer a threatening letter.”

Luce pointed to the pile of folded notes. “And I don’t call those love notes.”

Mize frowned. “Are you claiming these are more of the same?”

She nodded.

“Have a seat,” he said shortly, then sat down and began unfolding the pieces of paper. By the time he’d gone through more than a dozen, he was frowning. When he finally opened the last, his face was flushed and there was an angry glint in his eyes.

“God almighty, woman. Why did you wait so long to tell me something like this was going on?”

“You didn’t believe me the first time,” she said. “I had no reason to assume you would change your mind.”

His flush deepened. “Then I apologize if I’ve given you the impression that your safety was not important.”

Luce began to relax. Jonah had been right after all to encourage her to bring these in.

“Do you have any idea who’s doing this?” he asked.

“No. I’ve tried to pay attention to everyone I serve at the diner…but no one treats me any different than usual.”

“And you’ve never seen anyone around your place?”

She hesitated, then scooted forward to the edge of her chair.

“Last night, just as it was getting dark, I thought I saw someone at the edge of the woods. But whoever it was either hid or left. When I started back into the house, my dog came running out, baying like crazy, and took off into the woods right in the same place where I thought I’d seen someone.”

“What happened?” Mize asked.

“Jonah came home before I could think what to do and went into the woods after my dog, hoping to get a look at whoever it was. He found where Hobo had treed the man, then he found where the man’s car had been parked, but the man was long gone.”

Mize frowned. “Who’s Jonah?”

“Jonah Gray Wolf. He’s a friend…no, more than a friend. He’s working for Mrs. Tuesday and staying with me.”

Tom Mize looked startled. In all the years he’d known Luce Andahar, she’d never dated a local, never had a boyfriend of any sort.

He leaned forward. “When did this Jonah come to town? Have you ever considered the fact that he might be your stalker…that he’s wormed his way into your affections by pretending to be your protector?”

“He came to town two or three days ago, and I’ve been getting notes for months. Besides…it’s not him. If you knew him, you wouldn’t even think that.”

“Two or three days and he’s already in your bed?”

Anger shot through her so fast that she stood before she thought.

“Who’s in my bed is none of your damn business,” she said. “You can find the man who’s doing this to me or not. Either way, you and I have nothing left to talk about.”

She stormed out of the office, slamming the door shut behind her.

Moments later, Mize’s deputy, Earl Farley, came back carrying a small brown bag. He set it on the sheriff’s desk, then pointed toward the door.

“Was that Luce Andahar I saw flying out of here?”

Mize sighed, then nodded. “Yeah, it was her.” He swept the notes back into the manila envelope, then set it aside as he dug into the bag, pulled out the package of Ding Dongs and peeled it open. He sighed with bliss as the chocolate rolled across his tongue, momentarily stifling the need for a cigarette.

“She sure is pretty, isn’t she?” Earl said.

Mize didn’t bother to comment. He was too busy working on his second Ding Dong, then opening his bottle of pop.

Luce’s face was still red when she got back to the diner. Harold looked up, noticed the flush on her cheeks and waved her in.

“That cold air sure put some color in your face, girl. Come on over here and I’ll make you a cup of hot chocolate.”

“I’m fine,” she said, as she stomped to the back room to hang up her coat.

A few minutes later, Jonah walked in.

“Hey, how you doing?” Harold called, as Jonah entered the diner. He’d already been informed of Luce’s new travel arrangements and thought it a fine idea. He didn’t want to lose the best waitress he’d ever had, and anything to keep her from having to walk to work every morning was good.

“I’m fine,” Jonah said, as he turned to look for Luce. Then he took one look at her face and grabbed her by the shoulders.

“What happened?”

She was still so angry her voice was shaking. “I took the notes to the sheriff, like you wanted.”

Jonah frowned. “What did he say?”

“At first he was all business, then, when I told him you’d chased after the man last night, he just zoned out. Once he found out about you being with me, all he wanted to know was how you got in my bed so fast.”

Jonah flinched as if he’d been slapped; then his eyes suddenly glittered as a muscle jerked at the side of his jaw.

“Where is his office?”

“Down the street to the right, second building on the west corner.”

“Wait here.”

Luce was beginning to realize what she’d stirred up by telling him what had happened. She didn’t want Jonah in trouble, and certainly didn’t want to be the cause of it happening. She grabbed his arm.

“Wait, Jonah. Just let it go.”

He grabbed her shoulders. “Damn it, Lucia. I said, wait here.” Then he sighed regretfully, and added in a softer voice, “Please.”

Without waiting for an answer, he was out the door and back in the pickup before Luce could think.

“What was that all about?” Harold asked.

“It’s a long story,” she said, and then sat down at the counter with her chin in her hands. “If you’re still offering…I’m up for that hot chocolate now.”

As always, Harold was the kind of man to live and let live. If she didn’t want to talk about it, it was fine with him.

“Coming right up,” he said, and headed to the kitchen.

Tom Mize was downing the last of his Pepsi when the front door flew open, hitting the wall with a thump. Startled by the sudden appearance of the stranger standing in the doorway, he instinctively reached for his gun.

“Who the hell are you?” he asked.

Jonah walked to the desk, then stared Mize straight in the face.

“My name is Jonah Gray Wolf. I understand you have some concerns regarding Lucia Andahar’s personal life.”

Suddenly the Ding Dong that Mize had eaten was hanging at the back of his throat. Either it hadn’t gone down just right, or it was on its way back up.

The deputy, Earl Farley, had heard the commotion and was now standing in the doorway to the back room where the jail cells were located, gawking at the dark-haired stranger.

Mize tried to hold his ground, but there was something in the big Indian’s eyes that made him take a step back. “I don’t allow anyone to come into my office and threaten me,” he blustered.

Jonah took another step forward, then spoke, his voice so soft that Mize had to strain to hear it. “And I don’t allow anyone—not even a pissant with a badge—to belittle my woman.”

Mize felt sick. He’d never been afraid of another man in his life, but he was afraid now. “You can’t—” The Indian pointed a finger at him, and the rest of his words stuck in his throat. He was thinking them, but they wouldn’t come out. His fear grew. Was he having a stroke? What the hell was happening to him?

“No.
You
can’t,” Jonah said. “And if I find out that you’ve said one more denigrating, belittling thing about Lucia, you will be sorry. Do. You. Understand?”

Mize nodded.

“Are you going to take what’s happening to her seriously, or do I have to take matters into my own hands?”

Mize tried to answer, but the words still wouldn’t come out. A quick sheen of sweat broke out on his face as panic for his own health pushed past his fear of this man. Weakly, he dropped into his chair and put his head in his hands.

“Look at me,” Jonah said.

Mize’s head came up of its own volition, as if it were no longer attached to his body. Panic spread. He felt like a marionette, and Jonah Gray Wolf was pulling the strings.

“I’m not angry yet. I’m just pissed. Don’t make me angry,” Jonah said, then turned his back on the pair and, like Luce, slammed the door on his way out.

The moment Jonah left the building, Mize’s faculties returned.

“Jesus…oh, Jesus…. Earl, see if Dr. Bigelow is in. I think I’m having a stroke.”