She forced her eyes up to his. She couldn’t tell him. She kept so many secrets. There were nightmares in her past.
He frowned. His fingers went to her cheek and drew down it with an odd tenderness. They moved to her soft mouth and traced it, and then lifted to smooth back her hair.
“What happened to you?” he asked in the softest tone he’d ever used with her.
She met his eyes evenly. “What happened to you?” she countered in a voice that was barely louder than a whisper to divert him.
“Me?”
She nodded. “When Clark was talking about bombs, you got all quiet and your eyes were terrible.”
The expression on his face went from tender to indifferent, in seconds. He was shutting her out. “You’d better go back to the others,” he said. He opened the door for her and stood aside, waiting for her to leave.
She went through it hesitantly, as though there was something unfinished between them.
“Thanks for the coffee and dessert,” he said tautly, and closed the door before she could say another word.
CHAPTER FIVE
BOONE CAME OUT of the office an hour later and left without saying a word. Keely and Winnie and Clark watched a new movie on pay-per-view and then shared a pizza before Clark drove Keely home. Boone still hadn’t come back.
Keely didn’t often get premonitions, but she had one now. It was getting dark and when they drove up at the Welsh house, two things registered at once. There were no lights on in the house and a Jacobs County Deputy Sheriff’s car was sitting in the driveway.
“Oh, dear,” Keely murmured fearfully, grabbing at the door handle.
Clark, concerned, got out of his car and walked with her to the deputy, who got out of his car when Keely approached.
“Sorry, ma’am,” he told her with a quiet demeanor, “but we couldn’t contact you by phone and there’s, well, there’s sort of an emergency.”
“Something’s happened to my mother?” Keely asked nervously.
“Not exactly.” The deputy, a kind man, grimaced. “She’s over at Shea’s Roadhouse,” he added, naming a sometimes notorious bar on the Victoria road. “She’s very drunk, she’s breaking bottles and she refuses to leave. We’d like you to come with us and see if you can get her to go home before we’re forced to arrest her.” He, like most of Jacobs County, knew that Ella’s fortunes had dwindled, even if Keely didn’t. Keely likely wouldn’t have enough money to bail Ella out of jail.
“I’ll come right now,” Keely agreed.
“I’ll drive you and help you get her home,” Clark said at once without being asked.
She smiled at the deputy. “Thanks.”
He shrugged. “I used to have to drag my old man out of bars,” he said. “It’s why I went into law enforcement when I grew up. I’ll follow you out there, in case there’s any more trouble.”
“Thanks.”
“It goes with the job, but you’re welcome.”
* * *
WHEN THEY GOT to Shea’s, Ella was screaming bloody murder and holding an empty whiskey bottle over her head while the bartender crouched in a corner.
“For goodness’ sake!” Keely exclaimed, walking up to her mother with Clark and the deputy close behind. “What are you doing?”
Ella recognized her daughter and slowly put the bottle on the bar. She shivered. “Keely.” In a rare show of emotion, she caught her daughter around the neck, hugged her and held on for dear life. “What will we do?” she sobbed. “Oh, Keely, what will we do?”
“About what?” Keely asked, shocked at the older woman’s behavior. She was never affectionate.
“All my fault,” Ella mumbled. “All my fault. If I’d told what I knew…”
Before she could elaborate on that cryptic remark, she began to collapse.
“Help!” Keely called.
The deputy and Clark got on both sides of the older woman and held her up.
“Do you want to press charges?” the deputy asked the bartender.
The man looked torn. But Keely’s face decided him. “Not if she’ll agree to pay for the damages.”
“Of course we will,” Keely replied, unaware of her mother’s financial status.
“Where in the world is Tiny?” the deputy asked the bartender, because their bouncer usually prevented trouble like this.
“He’s having knee replacement surgery,” he confided. “One of our more volatile customers kicked him in the leg and put him out of commission. We usually have a relief bouncer, but we can’t find one. Nobody except Tiny wants the job.”
“If you get in trouble, all you have to do is call us,” the deputy told him.
“I know that. Thanks.” The bartender hesitated, frowning, as if he wanted to say more, but he glanced worriedly at Keely.
The deputy was a veteran of law enforcement. He knew the man wanted to tell him something. “I’ll help them get Mrs. Welsh to the car, then I’ll come back and get a list of the damages,” he promised, and saw the bartender relax a little.
“Okay,” he said.
* * *
KEELY FOLLOWED THE deputy and Clark, with her mother, out to Clark’s car.
“Do you have a blanket or something, in case she gets sick?” Keely asked worriedly. It would be terrible if her mother threw up in that luxurious backseat.
Clark popped the trunk lid and pulled out a big comforter, throwing it over the backseat. “I keep it in case I have to carry Bailey somewhere,” he confessed. “He doesn’t like to ride in the car.”
They got Ella down on the seat and closed the door. After a couple of words with the deputy, they went back to the Welsh place and bundled Ella into the house and onto her bed. Keely was careful to use her right arm in the process. The left one was too weak and fragile for lifting.
“It’s like deadweight,” Clark commented when they’d placed her.
“She usually is,” Keely replied, breathless. She frowned at the prone sight of her mother, who was still wearing slacks and a blouse and sweater and shoes. She’d take those off later, when
