Her place sat across the street from Davis Hardware, at the opposite end of town from Joanie’s Pizza, Pub and Pool Room.
Cain took the last turn on a dime, and the dealership lights came into full view along with an armada of local police and highway patrol cars. He doubted this was normal procedure for an alarm call in Crayton, Missouri. Something must have happened between the last time he talked to Deputy Evans and the time it took him to get here.
A cop waved them through the roadblock. Another stopped them at the lot’s perimeter.
“Why are there so many police cars?” Betsy unbuckled her seatbelt before the truck even stopped.
He didn’t answer because he didn’t know. And he didn’t plan to lie to her again.
She slid from the truck and ran toward Deputy Evans and Patrolman Kennett. Cain stayed right beside her, his gaze scanning the lot. The sight of flashing ambulance lights behind the service center didn’t bode well for everything still being status quo. Betsy started in that direction, but the deputy grabbed her by the shoulder as he ended his call.
“Let me go. This is my business. I’ll go where I please.” She jerked to pull away.
Evans released his hold but stepped in front of her as Kennett angled to one side. Cain stepped up enough to pin her in on his side. He didn’t like the feel of the situation. Didn’t like putting Betsy in a box either.
“What’s up?” Cain cringed inside.
Betsy peered over the shoulders of the men. “Why the ambulance? Has someone been hurt?”
Deputy Evans clenched his jaw as he nodded. “Papa Carrington.”
Cain had spent the last few weeks getting to know the previous owner better on the few occasions the man came into the service center. One day he’d said he liked having a place to go when he woke up early or couldn’t sleep. The older man mentioned he liked to come in and piddle around, as he’d called it. Could be Carrington might have stumbled and fell. Injured himself on equipment. But from the lit-up version of the dealership’s lot, Cain figured that wasn’t the case.
“Let me see him. How bad is he hurt?” Betsy begged. “You know he’s not as steady on his feet as he used to be. Not as young. Now he’s gone and got hurt.” She sniffled, blinking back her emotions. “At least he had sense to pull the alarm.”
“There’s more to it than that. Evidently, Mr. Carrington walked in on someone who hadn’t counted on anyone else being there,” Evans said.
“Didn’t he know better than to walk through a cordoned-off crime scene?” Cain wondered aloud.
He hadn’t liked Deputy Evans telling him to stay behind earlier in the evening to protect Betsy, but in that case Cain had understood. He wasn’t part of the Crayton Police Department. He was just a consultant, he’d reminded himself. Not the lead agent, investigator or whatever was needed. He grumbled under his breath. Not being the lead would take getting used to. Or not.
But things had evidently been overlooked earlier. Carrington got hurt because Cain hadn’t spoken up. Well, his silence had ended. He would keep living his life the same way he always had. Up front and in your face when need be. “Well? Wasn’t there a patrol car watching the crime scene tonight?”
The deputy winced in a half nod, half shrug. “We only taped off the back half of the car lot. Once we narrowed the trail of blood from the dumpster to the point of the attack, the patrol car parked around back, too. Besides, everybody in town knows Papa C doesn’t stop until after church on the Sundays.” Evans glanced at Betsy. “And no one...”
“And no one called to tell him about last night because I said not to worry him.” Looking upward, Betsy puffed her cheeks in a self-blaming sigh. “Told you I’d talk to him this morning before church.”
Cain didn’t buy this one bit. “Still doesn’t explain why he wouldn’t have seen the yellow tape when he pulled around back to park his car. Why wouldn’t he have called you? Asked what’s going on?”
She sighed again, clearly frustrated with herself and his questions. “Because, Papa C doesn’t drive much in the dark any more. So most times when he has trouble sleeping, he calls an Uber to drop him off. Then one of us take him home later in the day.”
The howl of whooshing winter wind blew through the pathway of the cars and trucks and motorhomes lined up for sale. Mid-Missouri in January and February could mean everything from freezing rain and snow to shorts weather and a warm breeze. From the looks of this morning, the weather forecast for a light wintery mix might be right.
Betsy scrunched her shoulders against the cold as she pushed to get past the group, but the deputy stood his ground. “Let’s go inside where it’s warmer.”
Like a barricade against the enemy’s charge, Cain and the police didn’t give an inch to her demand. This might be her property, but his priority number one was keeping her safe.
“So, what have we got? A robbery?” Cain hoped for a simple explanation more than he hoped for a profit on the sale of his house. He doubted he’d get either any time soon.
Deputy Evans pulled his notepad from his pocket. “From what we’ve seen so far, robbery wasn’t the mission.”
The paramedics emerged from the service center building, pushing the stretcher toward the back of the ambulance. Betsy slipped around the men and took off running in the direction of her injured father-in-law. Cain figured there was no stopping her, so he followed in her footsteps to the other end of the lot, Deputy Evans close behind. The paramedics slammed the ambulance door closed a moment before she got there.
“Open that door.” Betsy reached for the handle. “I need to talk to Papa C.”
“Ms. Peyton, we need to get him to the hospital.” The ambulance driver gently pushed her away from the vehicle, then jumped behind the wheel. “Besides, he’s not even conscious. Lucky to be alive from the hit he took to the side of his head.” The driver shifted into gear and sped away, sirens blaring.
Betsy pulled her cell from her pocket, then stared at it as if not knowing what to do.
