“What are you doing?” Natalie asked when she parked illegally, partially blocking a fire hydrant.
“I need to check out something and there are no parking spots.” She killed the engine. “Dang library must be having one of their book sales.”
“You can’t park here.”
“We’ll only be a few minutes.”
“Doing what exactly? Checking out books?”
“Checking out a deputy.” The whole left side of Kate’s face twitched as she looked in the rearview mirror and tucked some loose hairs behind her ears.
Sirens whooped in Natalie’s head. “Kate, are you sure this is a good idea?” She didn’t know what her cousin had in mind, but the way Kate’s gaze kept shifting between the sheriff’s office up the street and the road out of town made Natalie cringe.
“As soon as this pickup drives past us, let’s go.” Kate reached for the door handle, ducking her head low as the old Chevy rumbled by.
“Go where?” Natalie asked, unlatching her seat belt.
If Kate were going to make a run for it, she’d need to stay on her heels. She couldn’t let anything happen to the crazy pregnant woman on her watch or Claire and Ronnie would kill her.
“Now!” Kate said, popping out of the car.
Natalie caught up with her at the corner. “Kate, stop.”
Kate turned, her cheeks pink, her eyes too wide for Natalie’s comfort. “Hurry up!” She waved Natalie to follow and then continued along the sidewalk, doing a cartoon-like tiptoe act as she neared the cop shop’s front door.
Now Natalie understood what Claire had meant about Kate’s bouts of insanity. A short time ago, they’d been having a rational discussion in the car. Now they were sneaking along in broad daylight like Elmer Fudd hunting “wabbits.”
“What are we doing?” Natalie whispered when she caught up to Kate several steps from the sheriff’s front door. “Listen, if you want me to play along with whatever you’re about to do, I need to know my part in the show.”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want you to be in on the premeditated part.” She took a couple of steps forward and then came back. “Plus, I’m not sure how this is going to go. We’re going to have to wing it.”
She left Natalie standing on the sidewalk, frowning after her. This might be a good opportunity to walk away and wait for the sirens to come and go.
Kate waved for her to follow and then pulled open the front door of the sheriff’s office.
“Ah, hell. Here goes nothing.” Natalie jogged over to where Kate was holding the door for her. “Lead the way, Napoleon.”
The Cholla County Sheriff’s Office smelled a lot like Deadwood’s police station—burned coffee, musty paper, and a hint of something chemical—probably a floor cleaner of some type that killed criminal-sized germs. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead, reminding Natalie of the interrogation room back home. Unlike Deadwood, though, there was no door barring visitors from entering the interior office. One tall desk sort of blocked the rest of the room. Natalie figured that was where they were supposed to check in, so she stopped there. Behind it, a few desks were lined up along with one set off perpendicular to them.
Kate, on the other hand, walked around the tall desk, stopping in front of where a round-faced deputy sat with a pen in his hand. His thin moustache appeared to have been drawn on with a fine-point marker. His dark hair was styled with gel and swooped forward from the back, standing straight up in the front as if someone had snowplowed it into an invisible wall.
“Do you need something?” he asked Kate, rising from his chair slowly, like he expected Kate to pull a pistol on him at any second.
“Well, that’s a fine hello for ya,” Kate said. “Where’s Ernie?”
Who was Ernie? And why was Kate waving Natalie closer behind her back? Were they going to gang up on the deputy and … what?
“He’s off duty today,” the deputy said, his forehead furrowing even deeper as he looked at Natalie, who now stood shoulder to shoulder with her cousin. “Can I leave him a message?”
“Maybe.” Kate turned to Natalie. “Take off your shirt.”
Natalie froze. Had she heard Kate right? “Come again?”
“Your shirt. Take it off. Now.”
Natalie and the deputy exchanged raised brows, then his gaze dipped to her chest for a second … or three. His cheeks turned red and he looked toward the front window.
“Uhhh, no. I’m not taking my shirt off here.”
“Maybe I should call the sheriff,” the deputy offered, reaching for his desk phone.
“No!”
Natalie and the deputy both flinched.
“This can’t wait for Sheriff Harrison,” Kate explained at a more normal volume level. She pointed at Natalie. “This woman is being ill-treated and has finally found the courage to come here and file a report.”
Ill-treated? By whom? Other than putting up with Chester this morning and his noisy chili con carne de-gassing while she worked, Natalie had been treated the same as always since arriving—like family.
The deputy looked her up and down. “She doesn’t appear ill to me.”
Kate looked away for a moment to roll her eyes. “I said ‘ill-treated,’ ” she spoke slowly, as if the deputy had trouble hearing her. “She has bruises to show for it.” Kate turned back to Natalie. Her twitching face sent a series of frenzied messages that even NASA’s rocket scientists would have trouble decoding if given a week to decipher them. “Take off your shirt and show him your bruises.”
Natalie took a step backward. “I’m not real comfortable taking off my shirt in front of a stranger.”
Kate started to grin, but then appeared to rein it back in. “He’s a cop, Natalie.” She pointed at his badge. “It’s okay to show him the evidence of your pain.”
Cop or not, Natalie wasn’t taking off her shirt. Not even
