Skin Privilege

'Can you stand up?'

'I think so.'

Jeffrey waited for him to move away from the car.

'I'm sorry,' Valentine told him. 'I've got a short fuse.'

'No shit.'

The sheriff asked, 'You gonna tell me if she contacts you?'

Jeffrey was caught short by the question, which would explain the truthful answer he gave. 'I don't know.'

Valentine stared at him, then nodded again. 'Thanks for being honest.'

Jeffrey watched Valentine stumble toward the front doors. The glass slid open and he went inside. Sara was still standing by the bench, and Jeffrey motioned her over.

'What was that about?' she asked.

'I'll explain later. Let's get out of here.'

He made to open her door, but she said, 'I've got it,' and climbed in.

Jeffrey was walking around to the driver's side when a white sedan sped through the parking lot and screeched to a halt in the empty space next to him. Seconds later, a burly, bald man got out of the car. He was wearing a flannel shirt with the sleeves ripped off and a pair of jeans that looked splattered with oil. A heavy metal chain went from the front of his pants to his back. On his left hip was one of the largest hunting knives Jeffrey had ever seen.

While Jeffrey watched, the man took out the knife and placed it on the car seat, obviously knowing he wasn't allowed to bring the weapon into the hospital. Not that he looked as if he needed the weapon. If Jeffrey had to guess, he would say the guy weighed well over two hundred fifty pounds and that most of that was muscle.

The sedan shook when he slammed the door.

Deep scratches cut across his face as if he'd gotten into a fight with a tiger and lost. He stared at Jeffrey, challenging, 'What the fuck you lookin' at?'

Jeffrey pushed back his jacket, put his hand on his hip. His gun was tucked under the front seat of Sara's car, but the con didn't know that. 'Don't make this a problem.'

'Fuck you with your fucking problem,' the man barked, heading toward the ER.

Through the glass doors, Jeffrey saw Jake Valentine leaning over the desk, talking to the receptionist. They both looked up when the man entered the waiting room. Valentine glanced at Jeffrey, but the sheriff was too far away to read his expression. He said something to the thug, holding out his hand, palm down, as if to calm him. Words were exchanged, then the man turned around and stalked back out. As he passed Jeffrey, he muttered, 'Cocksucker,' but Jeffrey wasn't sure who was being insulted.

Valentine came out of the hospital as the white car backed up, jumped the curb, and sped off.

Jeffrey glanced into the car, checking on Sara. He asked Valentine, 'Friend of yours?'

'Local drug dealer who wanted to see one of his boys,' Valentine explained. I told him to come back during visiting hours.'

Jeffrey gave him a close look, wondering if the man was lying. The exchange had looked a bit more heated than a denied visiting request, but then again the knife-carrying thug didn't strike Jeffrey as someone who liked to be told no.

'Here,' Jeffrey said, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a couple of business cards. He wrote something on the back of the top card, then

thumbed to the next one to give to the sheriff. 'My cell number is on the bottom. Call me if you find my detective.'

Valentine gave the card a wary glance before taking it.

Jeffrey pocketed the rest of the cards. He got into the BMW and pulled out of the parking lot. Neither he nor Sara had much to say as he followed the route they had taken into town. Valentine was wrong about the twenty-minute lead. Jeffrey figured Lena had fifteen, tops. He asked the questions that the sheriff was probably asking himself right now: Where would Lena go? Who could she turn to?

Him. Lena had always come to Jeffrey when she had a problem, whether she needed something as small as a ride into work or as big as taking care of her asshole white supremacist boyfriend. This time was different, though. This time she had gone too far. Valentine was right about one thing: on purpose or not, Sara had aided Lena 's escape. Lena was a cop; she knew the law better than most lawyers. She'd known exactly what she was dropping Sara into and she hadn't cared.

In the quiet of the car, Sara asked, 'What now?'

'We go back home.' He could feel her looking at him, trying to figure out if he was serious. 'I mean it, Sara. This is it.'

'You're just going to leave Lena down here to rot?'

'After what she said to you? What she did to you?' He shook his head, his mind made up. 'It's over. I don't care what happens to her.'

'Did you see her reaction when we walked into that room?'

'I heard what she said.' He felt his anger spark back up at the memory. 'There's no choice here, Sara. She used you. I'm not going to help her.'

'I've never seen her so afraid. She's usually completely in control of herself.'

He snorted at the idea. 'Maybe with you.'

'You're right. She never shows me her weak side. It's always this act, this posturing about how tough and invincible she is.' Sara insisted, 'That wasn't an act back there, Jeffrey. Maybe later, but when she saw us in her room, she was absolutely terrified.'

'Then why not talk to me? Or at least to you? She had you alone. She knew you weren't going to run off and tell the sheriff anything. Why didn't she confide in you?'

'Because she's scared.'

'Then she should've just shut up and left you out of it.'

Sara spoke carefully. I appreciate that you're taking up for me, but just think about it for a minute: Lena knew that if she hurt me, you would do exactly what you're doing right now. She didn't want me to leave town, Jeffrey. She wanted you to.'

Jeffrey gripped the steering wheel, not wanting to admit that Sara could be right. 'Since when did you start taking up for Lena Adams?'

'Since…' Sara's voice trailed off. 'Since I saw her scared enough to risk everything in order to get you away from this town.'

He saw the scene again, the way Lena had reacted. Sara was right: Lena wasn't faking her fear. She hadn't looked Jeffrey in the eye because she knew that he was probably the only person in the world who knew when she was lying.

Sara said, 'I've seen her in a lot of bad situations, but I've never seen her terrified like that.'

Jeffrey let her words hang between them as over and over, he replayed Lena 's response in his mind, trying to figure out what it had to do with the dead body in the torched Cadillac.

Sara told him, 'She said that I should be afraid.'

'Did she say why?'

'She went into this pity thing about how everything she touches turns to crap. I thought she was feeling sorry for herself, but now I think she realized what she was doing wasn't working,