Cal set his burger on the open wrapper on the table. His chair squeaked as he leaned back in it. If eyes could drill holes, she’d be Swiss cheese.
“What?” she growled, finally shooting him a glare.
“I didn’t say anything.”
She stuffed her uneaten burger and fries back in the greasy sack and pushed it away.
“I thought you were starving,” he said, picking up his burger and finishing it in two bites.
“Lost my appetite.”
He wiped his hands on a napkin then balled the paper wrapper from his sandwich. “Want to tell me what that was all about?” When she opened her mouth to deny she had anything to tell, he held up a finger. “I’m an expert in reading body language and determining when I’m being lied to, so don’t even try.”
“How about ‘none of your business’?” she said, feeling prickly again.
“Maybe so, but considering I could feel the waves of tension rolling off of you while that guy was here, it certainly begs the question.”
She stayed silent, although she figured he could probably hear the heavy thudding of her heart.
“I’d like to help if I can.” He tipped his head and scratched his chin. “You know, I have resources at my disposal…”
Resources…Her pulse tripped. Was there a way Cal could help her take down Chase Hamilton? Did she dare trust him with something no one else in law enforcement or the court system had helped her with in the past? Wouldn’t she be wasting her breath asking for his help? And wouldn’t working with himrisk letting down her walls? She’d have to spend time with him, give him private details about her past, her family, her mission.
But hadn’t she also promised Abby she’d do anything she could to bring her sister justice and make sure she was safe?
“Forgive me if I’m skeptical of your offer. I’ve asked law enforcement for help in the past, and they’ve failed me, spectacularly.”
To his credit, Cal didn’t dismiss her reply with one of his flippant and breezy responses or diminish her pain with a wink and a grin. “I’m sorry to hear that. How did law enforcement fail you?”
“By failing my sister.”
“Is this related to the reason you moved here to Red Grove? You said last night that you came here for your sister. To protect her, I believe was how you put it.”
“Yes. To protect her. Because law enforcement and the court system refused to do their job.” The old discouragement and anger bubbled up in her, and she balled her hands to keep them from trembling.
Cal leaned toward her, his expression full of compassion. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
She sat back in her chair, debating.
He flipped up a palm. “Tell me about your sister. What’s going on?”
To her dismay, tears stung her eyes, and she had to swipe the moisture quickly to keep them from falling. Clearing her throat, she shoved down the ache and buried it under the layers of resentment and frustration that fueled her fight. For years, she’d used her bitterness as a shield against despair and hopelessness.
She’d never intended to share Abby’s story with another cop or lawyer. She’d pleaded with law enforcement and court officials for years, to no avail. And while she knew on a practical level that Cal Colton, sheriff or not, was unlikely to make adifference in Abby’s case, she couldn’t ignore even the tiniest hope that Cal could help.
She took a beat, reining in the galloping of her heart and her agitated breathing. When she felt she had regained her composure, she said, “My sister is in the mental health facility just outside Red Grove. She had a mental health crisis—what used to be called a nervous breakdown.”
Sympathy washed over his face. “I see. Go on.”
“Abby was a happy, healthy child, despite our unreliable parents.” She waved a hand. “Another story for another time.”
He gave her a silent nod.
“Abby is beautiful and sweet and kind and…fragile. She attracted the attention of a man who worked for her college a couple of years ago. He began stalking her. Relentlessly. Frighteningly. Creepily. We knew who he was and called the police every time he escalated or approached her. We tried to get a restraining order against the guy, but the court claimed we didn’t have sufficient proof that the guy posed a threat. We used all our money on the first incompetent lawyer we hired and couldn’t afford to relitigate. So she moved. She transferred to a new college. Twice. The guy followed her. We called the cops again and again, and they did little or nothing to stop him from showing up everywhere she went and scaring her to death.”
“Did he ever physically harm her? That should be enough to—”
“You sound like all the rest!” she snapped, cutting him off. “So we don’t get protection from the guy until he rapes or beats her? What about her mental health? What’sthatworth? How would you feel if someone followed you from city to city and taunted you with creepy things left at your home or endless phone calls no matter how many times you changed your number?”
