A Creed in Stone Creek - Linda Lael Miller [107]
“What?”
Steven relaxed a little, took a light hold on Melissa’s shoulders. “She’ll be fine in a few days,” he assured her. A muscle bunched in his cheek, and she saw a combination of anger and regret flare up in his eyes, gone as quickly as it appeared. “Carter knocked her around some last night, when he realized Andrea had slipped out of the trailer behind his back. He stole Velda’s watch and the contents of her tip jar and took off.”
Melissa felt cold all over. “Poor Velda,” she said. “That woman cannot catch a break.”
“She’s an inpatient at the clinic over in Indian Rock. I thought I should let you know ahead of time because Byron hasn’t been told yet. He’s bound to be shaken up, not to mention furious, and I figure he’ll want to go after Nathan Carter himself. If he does that, obviously, he’ll be back in jail for sure.”
Melissa nodded slowly. “Do you have a plan?”
“If it weren’t for Matt, I’d have Byron stay at my place until he settles down or Carter is in custody, whichever comes first. There are too many unknown factors in the equation, of course, and I’m not about to risk Matt’s being hurt. Tom and I talked it over, and he’s willing to take the boy in, since it’s just him and Elvis. God knows whether Byron will agree or not.”
Melissa pondered the idea. Given Byron’s history with the sheriff, it didn’t seem likely, but stranger things had happened.
“Thanks,” she said stiffly, and this time when she moved to enter Tom’s office, Steven didn’t get in her way.
BYRON WAS OUT OF THE CELL and back in his civilian clothes, plunked sullenly in a chair next to Tom’s desk. Andrea stood behind that chair, her hands resting on Byron’s taut shoulders.
Following Melissa into the large, open room, Steven shifted his focus from her shapely posterior to the tasks at hand.
His gaze snagged with Tom’s.
“You must be out of your mind,” Byron blurted, glaring at the sheriff.
Elvis slunk over, placed his muzzle on the young man’s blue-jeaned thigh and made a soft sound full of sorrowful affection.
Byron automatically stroked the dog’s head, but he went right on trying to bore a hole through Tom Parker with his eyes.
Tom, perched casually on a corner of his big desk, looked unflappable. Initially, Steven had pegged the man for a rube, but he’d since revised his opinion. “I reckon three-quarters of the people I know would agree, since I just invited you to bunk on my screened-in sunporch for a while.”
“Why would I want to do that?” Byron snapped. Andrea’s fingers tightened noticeably, and he shrugged her off.
Tom glanced in Steven’s direction, and Steven nodded in response. Cleared his throat.
“Byron,” he said, “your mother has been hurt—”
Byron leaped to his feet and whirled around so fast that his chair toppled over and both Elvis and Andrea had to jump out of the way. “What happened to my mom?” Byron demanded. “How bad is—?”
Steven held up both hands, palms out. “She’ll be fine, Byron. They’re keeping her at the clinic a day or two, mostly for observation, but she’s going to be all right.”
Byron reddened, and clenched both fists at his sides. “He did it, didn’t he? That son-of-a-bitch Nathan Carter hurt my mother!”
Melissa went to stand beside a trembling, wide-eyed Andrea, putting an arm around the girl’s shoulders, giving her an encouraging squeeze. Essentially, holding her up.
Tom spoke next, quietly and with authority. “That’s what she told Deputy Ferguson when he took her to the clinic last night,” he said, watching Byron. Like Steven, he was poised to land on the kid if his temper got any further out of hand. “Velda has some cracked ribs, two black eyes and a split lip. And if there’s one thing your mother doesn’t need right now, it’s for you to get yourself into trouble all over again.”
Byron calmed himself a little, but not quite enough for Steven and Tom to let down their guard. He swore under his breath and thrust a hand through his rumpled hair, and his eyes filled with angry tears.
“You must have known it was Nathan