that the man wielded any true power. Smug attitude aside, the ex-sheriff had obviously been terrified to find Jeffrey at his front door. A cop was only afraid of another cop for one reason: corruption. The question was, who was crooked in Elawah's sheriff's department? Jeffrey wouldn't put Jake Valentine at the top of his list, but you never knew. And of course there was always Deputy Donald Cook, who Nick had easily pegged for taking something under the table. Cook certainly wasn't happy with his job. He'd made no attempt to hide the fact that he thought his boss was an idiot.
But all of this kept bringing him back to Sara's big question: what did any of it have to do with Lena?
Nothing. It was all a bunch of loose threads that may or may not tie together. Skinheads trafficked meth, Hank Norton used meth. Ethan Green was a skinhead, the thug in the white sedan was a skinhead. Al Pfeiffer was terrified of cops, Lena had escaped from the cops.
Someone had died in Lena 's presence. There had to be something out there that Jeffrey was missing, some piece of information that would pull it all together. There had to be a reason Lena had left that hospital without talking to him first. She could be ball-breakingly stubborn about so many things, but she was not stupid. There had to be a logical explanation.
Using one of the flimsy paper towels from the dispenser, Jeffrey washed his face as best he could, patting his neck and chest to clean off the dried blood. His hand was still throbbing, but he tried to ignore it as he walked back through the store.
'What's the damage?' Jeffrey asked, pulling out his county credit card.
'Sorry.' The clerk pointed to a sign behind him that said, 'In God we trust. All others pay cash.'
'Right.' Fortunately, Jeffrey had dropped by a cash machine before heading out of Grant County yesterday afternoon. He pointed to the first-aid packets behind the clerk. 'Give me a couple packs of those aspirin, too.'
'Thirty-eight fifty-three,' the clerk told him, tossing the aspirin on the counter and taking the bills Jeffrey handed him. 'Bad day?'
Jeffrey ripped open the pack with his teeth. 'What do you think?'
The clerk bristled. 'No need to take it out on me, buddy.' He rang the sale and handed Jeffrey the change. 'You take care, now.'
'You, too,' Jeffrey managed, ducking past the cowbell as he left the store.
In the car, Sara kept her own counsel. Jeffrey pulled back onto the road and followed the signs back to the highway.
The sun was finally setting as he managed to get to the interstate. The aspirin hadn't even touched his headache. Sara must have been exhausted. By the time they crossed into Elawah County, her head was tilted to her shoulder, and she was making that soft, clicking noise she always made when she slept.
Jeffrey took the unopened bottle of water she'd bought him at the rest stop and drank it down. There was some wisdom to the adage that you should be careful what you wish for. This morning, he'd been thinking it would be nice to see a flash of Sara's anger. Now, all that he could think was that it was a hell of a lot easier to love her when she was sleeping.
The sign outside the motel was barely doing its job when he pulled into the space in front of their room. Only seven letters were left to illuminate the entire parking lot. Jeffrey cut the engine as he surveyed their surroundings. A black Dodge Ram was parked a few spaces down from him. The flickering light in the hotel office told him that the manager was watching television. When Jeffrey had checked in, the boy had glanced up from the set with glassy eyes, so bored he could barely manage to blink. Jeffrey imagined there were worse jobs you could have. Working a convenience store where your biggest thrill came from whacking strangers in the head with a cowbell came to mind.
Jeffrey reached over and gently shook Sara awake. She squinted at the hotel, confused for a moment, then sat up, obviously remembering soon enough where they were and what had happened.
He couldn't keep himself from asking, 'You okay?'
She nodded, opening the door, getting out of the car.
Jeffrey followed suit, stretching his back as he stood. His hand went to his holster when he heard a noise behind him.
'Sorry about that.' Jake Valentine came out of the shadows, an open beer bottle in one hand, a small cooler in the other. He startled when he saw Jeffrey. 'Something happen?'
'Just went for a drive,' was the best that Jeffrey could come up with.
Sara walked toward the motel room, offering, Til leave you two alone.'
'Uh, ma'am?' Valentine stopped her. 'I just wanted to say I'm real sorry for what I said last night. Heat of the moment and all. I should've just held my tongue. I didn't mean what I said.'
She nodded. 'Thank you for apologizing.'
If Valentine had been expecting a more grateful response, he was talking to the wrong woman. Jeffrey unlocked the door for her. Sara reached down and wrapped her hand around his wrist, letting it rest there for a few seconds. He felt pathetically grateful for the gesture and gave her the room key because it seemed like a symbolic thing to do. She smiled at him – genuinely smiled -and he felt the band that had been squeezing his chest for the last four hours loosen some more.
'Only be a minute,' Valentine said, as if he was worried Jeffrey would follow Sara into the room.
Jeffrey was tempted, but as the door clicked shut, he asked Valentine, 'What's going on, Jake? You find Lena?'
Valentine chuckled as he put the cooler on the ground and pulled out a fresh beer. Jeffrey saw four empties tucked into what was left of the ice. 'Brought you one of these. Peace offering.'
'Thanks,' Jeffrey said, holding the cold bottle against his head. He'd driven at least ten hours today on about two hours of sleep. His muscles ached, his head throbbed and the last thing he wanted to be doing right now was talking to Jake Valentine.
Still, he walked toward the front of the motel, seeing if the sheriff would follow. The man obviously wanted something, and Jeffrey was going to make it as difficult as possible for the sheriff to ask for his favor. He could consider it payback for their little do-si-do in the linen closet last night.
A long tunnel ran behind the front office of the motel, giving access to either side. Jeffrey wasn't really hungry, but he knew he should try to eat something. He asked Valentine, 'You got any money?'
Valentine pulled a handful of coins out of his pocket. Jeffrey took what he needed and fed it into the machine. He stared at the candy bars and crackers, trying to decide which was less likely to give him indigestion. He settled on SunChips and made the selection.
'I like those, too,' Valentine offered.
Jeffrey held out the bag. 'You want some?' Valentine shook his head and Jeffrey took a seat on one of the wooden benches opposite the vending machines. He ripped the bag open with his teeth and ate a few chips. They were stale.
Valentine just stood there watching him, obviously not knowing what to do. He looked even younger out of his uniform, his spaghetti build punctuated by the high-waisted jeans and overlarge polo shirt. The Georgia Bulldog red ball cap he was wearing wasn't helping much, either. It sat tilted slightly to the side on his narrow head. Even with the noticeable bulge from his ankle holster, he looked like a
