Then there was the Phoenix case. Still no word from Fox's father, but I've had a chance to go over the trial transcripts and Maxim Heffler, the guy he was defending, is a scary piece of work. Never had anything stick to him, but the list of suspected involvements is a myriad of major crimes; including kidnapping, rape and murder, were enough to make you shudder. This was the second time in the last ten years he was acquitted of murder charges. The first time, two material witnesses for the prosecution changed their testimony on the stand, throwing the prosecution's case completely off course, and this last time, the witness ended up dead. All testimonies leading up to this witness had been circumstantial and setting the stage for him to tie it all together, but without his testimony, the case fell apart like loose sand. Within days Maxim walked out of court; another acquittal to his name.
I have to get Fox to open up about Phoenix, because if this man, this Maxim Heffler, has anything to do with James' disappearance—has anything remotely to do with the reason Fox left Phoenix in a hurry—then Naomi and her son may well be in deep trouble. And what is giving me heartburn right now is that the kind of sick little mind game that was played in Naomi's house back there, is probably just the kind of thing a psychopath like Heffler would get off on. Fuck what a mess.
When I look over at Naomi, I notice that while she is staring unseeingly out the window, tremors are starting to go through her body. I put my hand on her leg yet she barely responds.
"Honey? Naomi, look at me."
When she finally lifts her eyes, they are dull. I pull the truck over to the side of the road, put it in park and turn to her, taking her face in my hands.
"Talk to me. You're worrying me."
She opens her mouth a few times to speak but can't seem to form words.
"That's it. I'm taking you to the hospital." I turn around, intending to turn the truck around to Cortez Memorial, when I feel her hand on my arm.
"No hospital... please." The plea in that little voice, so unlike the feisty Naomi I know, breaks my heart. The tears collecting in the big brown eyes she's turned to me don't make it any better.
"Dammit, honey." I press a quick kiss to her head and grab my radio off the dash.
"Dispatch. Carol?"
"Sheriff?"
"Yeah. I'll be home the rest of the day, in case of an emergency. If Dooley from the Cortez PD calls in, tell him to get me on my cell. Drew can contact me there too. He can run the patrols. Okay?"
"Ten-four, Sheriff."
I toss back the radio, unclip Naomi's seatbelt, reach over and slide her all the way next to me and clip her into the center belt. With my arm around her shivering body, I turn the truck toward my house.
CHAPTER NINE
"Where are we?" Naomi mumbles from my neck, where she hides her face the moment I lift her out of my truck.
"My place."
"Why?"
"Because you don't want to go the hospital, I can't have your boy see you like this and you are at the end of your tether. I'm drawing you a bath, feeding you something and then you're having a nap. In that order. Then maybe you’ll want to talk... or not. We'll play it by ear. Just let me take care of you for a bit. I have a feeling your load is getting a little heavy."
I manage to shift her weight to one arm so I can get the door open and slip us inside, closing up behind us. I walk straight through upstairs and into the bathroom, where I sit her on the counter; keeping hold of her with one hand while I turn on the taps and give the water a chance to warm up. Turning back to her, I see her eyes are clearer now, watching my every move.
"What?"
"I'm not used to this," she confesses.
"Used to what, honey?"
"Being taken care of. It feels... odd."
I chuckle. "I hear you. Feels odd to me too, wanting to take care of someone, but here we are. Lift up." I have the hem of her shirt almost across her waist when she lifts her arms obediently, seeming to not give much thought to what she's
I have to get Fox to open up about Phoenix, because if this man, this Maxim Heffler, has anything to do with James' disappearance—has anything remotely to do with the reason Fox left Phoenix in a hurry—then Naomi and her son may well be in deep trouble. And what is giving me heartburn right now is that the kind of sick little mind game that was played in Naomi's house back there, is probably just the kind of thing a psychopath like Heffler would get off on. Fuck what a mess.
When I look over at Naomi, I notice that while she is staring unseeingly out the window, tremors are starting to go through her body. I put my hand on her leg yet she barely responds.
"Honey? Naomi, look at me."
When she finally lifts her eyes, they are dull. I pull the truck over to the side of the road, put it in park and turn to her, taking her face in my hands.
"Talk to me. You're worrying me."
She opens her mouth a few times to speak but can't seem to form words.
"That's it. I'm taking you to the hospital." I turn around, intending to turn the truck around to Cortez Memorial, when I feel her hand on my arm.
"No hospital... please." The plea in that little voice, so unlike the feisty Naomi I know, breaks my heart. The tears collecting in the big brown eyes she's turned to me don't make it any better.
"Dammit, honey." I press a quick kiss to her head and grab my radio off the dash.
"Dispatch. Carol?"
"Sheriff?"
"Yeah. I'll be home the rest of the day, in case of an emergency. If Dooley from the Cortez PD calls in, tell him to get me on my cell. Drew can contact me there too. He can run the patrols. Okay?"
"Ten-four, Sheriff."
I toss back the radio, unclip Naomi's seatbelt, reach over and slide her all the way next to me and clip her into the center belt. With my arm around her shivering body, I turn the truck toward my house.
CHAPTER NINE
"Where are we?" Naomi mumbles from my neck, where she hides her face the moment I lift her out of my truck.
"My place."
"Why?"
"Because you don't want to go the hospital, I can't have your boy see you like this and you are at the end of your tether. I'm drawing you a bath, feeding you something and then you're having a nap. In that order. Then maybe you’ll want to talk... or not. We'll play it by ear. Just let me take care of you for a bit. I have a feeling your load is getting a little heavy."
I manage to shift her weight to one arm so I can get the door open and slip us inside, closing up behind us. I walk straight through upstairs and into the bathroom, where I sit her on the counter; keeping hold of her with one hand while I turn on the taps and give the water a chance to warm up. Turning back to her, I see her eyes are clearer now, watching my every move.
"What?"
"I'm not used to this," she confesses.
"Used to what, honey?"
"Being taken care of. It feels... odd."
I chuckle. "I hear you. Feels odd to me too, wanting to take care of someone, but here we are. Lift up." I have the hem of her shirt almost across her waist when she lifts her arms obediently, seeming to not give much thought to what she's
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