Shattered Justice Read online

  She’d been walking down the sidewalk, reading through a pile of reports, not watching where she was going, when a door suddenly flew open in front of her. She dodged, missing the door—her reflexes had always been good.

  Everything would have been fine if not for the darned rocking chair on the sidewalk. She was so busy dodging the door, she didn’t see the chair. Her foot caught, and she pitched forward, her papers flying up and raining down on her. But instead of kissing the boardwalk as she expected, she found herself caught in a very capable pair of strong hands.

  “Whoa! Careful, there.”

  She grabbed on to the arms supporting her, letting her forehead rest for a second against her rescuer, then tipped her head back and saw Dan Justice smiling down at her. He righted her, keeping his hands on her arms.

  “You okay, Miss Wilson?”

  She stood there, staring at him, her tongue suddenly glued to the bottom of her mouth. Her head was spinning, and she’d give anything if it had been because of the near fall. But it wasn’t.

  It was, and this embarrassed her to no end to admit, because of the feel of his strong hands on her arms. Of his strength beneath her fingers.

  And because those blue, blue eyes were closer than she’d ever expected them to be.

  “Miss Wilson?” Dan peered at her.

  “Shelby,” she corrected automatically, then could have bitten her tongue.

  He lifted one brow. “Shelby, then. Are you okay?”

  “Fine.” She realized she was still gripping those muscular arms and jerked her hands away, wiping the warmth off on her jacket. “I’m fine. Really.”

  He bent to gather her papers, and she knelt next to him, waving him off. “Oh, no. Really, don’t bother.”

  His face right next to hers, he angled a look her way, and a smile eased across his lips. “It’s no bother, Shelby.”

  She’d always liked her name. Thought it was unique, pretty. But she’d never liked it as much as when Dan Justice said it, with just a hint of teasing.

  Shelby couldn’t stop herself. She smiled back. “Thanks, Deputy.”

  “Dan.”

  Quick heat in her cheeks sent her gaze scurrying to the papers on the boardwalk. “Dan. Thanks.”

  He gathered the last of her papers, stood, and held a hand out to her. She slid her hand into his, let him pull her to her feet, then accepted the papers he held out to her.

  “It was my pleasure.”

  As he walked on down the boardwalk, Shelby had the most ridiculous desire to fan herself with the papers.

  Oh no, Dan. No it wasn’t. She turned and headed on her way. The pleasure was definitely mine.

  NINE

  “There are always uncertainties ahead,

  but there is always one certainty—God’s will is good.”

  VERNON PATERSON

  How can we understand the road we travel?

  It is the LORD who directs our steps.

  PROVERBS 20:24

  THIS DAY WAS GOING FROM BAD TO WORSE.

  First, he’d spent twice as much time as he’d anticipated with the woman whose home had been burgled. Situated several miles outside of Sanctuary, the clearly custom-built home sat down a long, paved drive, in the middle of ten acres tucked way in the national forest. As Dan followed the immaculately dressed woman from one elegant room to another, writing down all that had been stolen, he got an earful.

  “We moved out here to get away from crime,” she sputtered. “I thought this was supposed to be a safe, quiet area! Honestly, what is law enforcement for if it can’t protect our homes?”

  It was useless to point out that no area was safe from some kind of crime or that an expensive home this remote was a prime target for thieves. One look at the place was all it took to know it would be full of treasures just too tempting—and easy to sell—to resist.

  Nor did he point out that most everyone in the area knew that two kinds of people gravitated to the remote regions of Oregon: Most were folks who loved simple living, smaller communities, wildlife, wilderness, and nature. But others were far less desirable. People who came out to the boonies to do drugs and other illegal activities without worrying about the law.

  Which was why it was such a good thing that they were finally able to have a deputy in Sanctuary again. They’d done their best before that, patrolling this area along with the rest of Jackson County, but it was so much better to live here.

  Day to day, he saw who came and went; he got acquainted with the pillars of the community—and with the pits. In the process, he’d run into pretty much every kind of folk, from real live mountain men, complete with scruffy beards, knee-high moccasins, and clothes fashioned from animal pelts; to artsy folks who looked like transplants from the sixties; to those wealthy enough to buy acreage and build million-dollar log homes.

  The woman he saw this morning fit in the latter category. And she was far from pleased that her “rustic retreat” had been invaded. When Dan asked what kind of alarm system they had in the house, her manicured hand went to her throat, and she peered down her nose at him like he was three-day-old shrimp. “Alarm system? Good heavens, Deputy, I never imagined needing such a thing out here.”

  Dan took down all the information, then gave her his card and the card of a reliable alarm system supplier.

  After an encounter like that, Dan was not looking forward to dealing with James Brumby.

  The old codger had lived just outside of Sanctuary for as long as anyone could remember. No one knew for certain how old he was, but Dan figured he was eighty if he was a day.

  Brumby, who’d never been married, believed in keeping to himself and letting everyone else do the same. He just worked his place, cut enough wood to last the winter, and even hunted anything that could grace his table—in and out of season, though Dan had never been able to catch him breaking the law. Brumby only called into town when there was trouble.

  Like today.

  He was one of a kind, Brumby was. A fact for which Dan was immeasurably thankful.

  Of course, a man like Brumby lived as far up the mountain as he could get. And the road to get there was as inhospitable as the man. The rutted dirt logging road was worse every time Dan drove it. With all the recent rain, it was slick as well as bumpy. After one particularly jarring bounce that sent the cruiser sliding from one side of the road to the other, Dan put on the brakes and looked in his rearview mirror.

  Nope. He was wrong. No matter what it felt like, he hadn’t left his kidneys back there in the road.

  Thank heaven he was almost to Brumby’s place. Of course, that wouldn’t be any more fun than the drive. Because once there, Dan would have to deal with Brumby’s security system: four very large, very vocal, very unfriendly dogs.

  Dan parked the cruiser next to the fence surrounding Brumby’s property and opened the car door. He’d no sooner stepped out of the vehicle than the dogs were at it, barking and snarling and doing their best to shred the thick wood fence between them and Dan.

  “Nice doggies …” he muttered, watching the beasts try to reach him. “Nice big, ugly doggies.”

  Since he’d been to Brumby’s a few times before, he knew to call and let the man know what time he’d be arriving. Even so, the old fella took a considerable amount of time to get from the house to the fence.

  Brumby aimed ineffectual swats at the dogs as he shuffled up to the gate. “Hush up now, boys! It’s Deputy Dan. He’s a friend.”

  He started to open the gate, the yapping monsters at his side, their eyes gleaming as though already anticipating how Dan’s leg would taste. Dan grabbed the gate and jerked it shut again. “James, would you please put the dogs inside?”

  The man’s rheumy eyes peered at him. “Why, the boys won’t hurt you none, Deputy. Not with me standing here.”

  Dan eyed the growling guardians and shook his head. “You’re probably right, but I’d hate to take a chance.” He met Brumby’s gaze. “I mean, if one of the boys bites me, he might get sick.�
�� Dan had heard early on how particular James Brumby was about what he fed his dogs. “These big boys usually have pretty sensitive digestive tracts, you know.”

  Brumby looked down at them. “Well, they are used to only the best beef for chow …”

  “Exactly. Besides, if I got bit, well, I’d have to write up a report, have the dog taken to animal control.”

  That did it. Brumby shuffled back toward the house, calling the yapping “boys” as he went. Three of the four bounded after the man. The last dog—an animal that looked like a cross between Cujo and a really ugly grizzly—didn’t budge. It glared at Dan, a guttural growl emanating from its massive chest.

  “Duke!”

  Dan jumped. Brumby’s growl was as bad as the dog’s.

  “You get in here. Now!”

  With a final snarl in Dan’s direction, the hulking beast turned and ambled into the house. Dan pushed the gate open and stepped in. He slid on his latex gloves and pulled the evidence bags from his pocket as Brumby led him around back, showing him what was left of his outhouse.

  There wasn’t much.

  “You cleaned everything up?”

  The old man shrugged his bony shoulders. “Well, sure. The boys were all over the place, grabbing wood and chewin’ on it. One of ’em even had a nail he was chompin’ on. And some wire. And the area stunk to high heaven. ’Course I cleaned it up.”

  So much for preserving the integrity of the crime scene.

  Dan moved closer, hoping to find some bit of evidence. Tape, batteries, twisted iron wire, fragments of metal, maybe even a footprint … anything. But Brumby was nothing if not thorough, especially when it came to the boys’ safety. And he and the boys had effectively obliterated whatever footprints might have been there.

  No way he was going to find evidence now. But he pulled his camera out of his pocket and took pictures of the scene. Knowing even as he did so that it really didn’t matter much. This kind of mischief usually was the handiwork of the same group of kids.

  Sanctuary was a warm and welcoming place, but it had challenges. With the Oregon lumber industry falling off so badly, many of the men had to go as far away as Alaska to find work. Which meant they were gone for months at a time. The women had to work as well to make ends meet, which left the kids unsupervised. So, as kids will do, they ran loose.

  When kids out here ran loose, they often got bored. Then they got creative.

  They’d started with blowing up outhouses. Then, just in the last year, they’d exchanged outhouses for mailboxes in town. Gave “Air Mail” a whole new meaning. The post office finally got tired of replacing their outside mailboxes and just took them out. So now, apparently, the kids had gone back to outhouses.

  The whole time Dan was at Brumby’s, the old man went on and on about how bad kids were nowadays, how they didn’t have respect for anyone or anything. He followed Dan back to the front gate, expounding on his solution for what ailed America: “Round up all these wild kids and put ’em to work.”

  Dan smiled at Brumby. “Doing what?”

  “Diggin’ new outhouse holes, for one thing!”

  Chuckling, Dan let himself out the gate, then closed and latched it.

  “They’re getting meaner, too. You know some kids tried to do my boys in?”

  Dan paused. “How’s that?”

  “Set out meat with glass in it. Woulda cut the boys to shreds. But they’s as stupid as they are mean.”

  “The boys?” Dan frowned.

  “No. Ain’t you listenin’? The kids! The meat they stuck that glass in was spoiled. Smelled like a dozen week-old skunks. Good thing, though. I smelled it ’fore I put the boys out and went to take a gander. Found the meat all over the ground.” He spit. “I’m tellin’ you, Deputy. I see any of those kids on my property again, I’m gonna get my gun.”

  Dan stopped cold at that. “Now, James.”

  “I’m too old to keep rebuilding outhouses and digging new holes. Gonna give me a heart attack. So I figure it’s either me or them.”

  “It better not be, James.”

  “But—”

  “I mean it, now.” He gave the old man a stern look. “If you see kids hanging around, you call me. Write down their descriptions. Take a picture of them, if you want. But you shoot someone, and I’ll have to come up here and haul you back to town.”

  “But I—”

  “Then who will look after the boys?”

  Brumby glanced over his shoulder to where the dogs watched them through a window, barking with all their might. “Now, Deputy, you know ain’t no one but me can watch out for my boys.”

  “Exactly. So don’t go doing anything that’ll land you in jail.”

  “Jail?” He gaped at Dan. “You’d put me in jail for shootin’ trespassers?”

  Dan’s eyes narrowed. “For shooting kids? In a heartbeat.”

  Brumby clamped his mouth shut.

  “So no guns, right?”

  Brumby’s mouth settled into a hard line.

  “You see anyone, you call me. Right?”

  The old man gave a grudging nod.

  “Good. I’ll hold you to that.”

  With a snort, Brumby turned and went back inside—but not before he held the door open and let the dogs scramble out after Dan again. Thankfully, he was back in his cruiser before they slammed into the fence.

  He stared after the old man, then turned the key in the ignition. As the engine jumped to life and he put the cruiser into gear, Dan cast one last look over his shoulder at Brumby’s place.

  He’d been right. This little visit to Brumbyland was no fun at all.

  “So? Anything fun to report?”

  “Fun?” Shelby took a bite of her burger, studying her friend.

  Jasmine’s long-suffering sigh was pitiful. She waved her black-nailed hands at Shelby. “Fun! You know.” She bobbed her head, dropping her voice so no one would overhear. “Between yooou … and the chief.”

  The bit of burger slammed to a halt in Shelby’s throat. After a couple of seconds of coughing and slurping water, she planted her hands on the table and gave the woman opposite her a hard look. “Jasmine, you are one of my all-time favorite people, and when everyone else says how crazy you are, I just tell them you’re creative, but have you lost your mind?”

  Jasmine took the gum out of her mouth and stuck it to the side of her plate, then lifted her gyro. “Fine. Don’t tell me. It’s not like everyone in town doesn’t know you two are interested in each other. After that display in broad daylight earlier today.” She batted her eyes, her voice going all syrupy. “Oh, Dan. Thank you for saving me from that nasty fall.”

  It took a few seconds for Shelby to realize she was sitting here with her mouth hanging open. Actually, it took Jasmine muttering around a bit of gyro, “Close your mouth before the flies get in.” But Shelby couldn’t help it.

  She was stunned. Mortified. And panicked.

  If Jasmine was saying things like this to her, what was to keep her from saying them to … to …

  No!

  Shelby grabbed Jasmine’s wrist, jerking her gyro to a halt, making her take a bite out of thin air.

  “Tell me you haven’t said anything like this to Deputy Justice.”

  Jasmine’s purple lips compressed, and she pulled her wrist free. “Don’t be a dope. Of course I haven’t.”

  Sweet relief made Shelby’s knees weak, so it was a good thing she was sitting down.

  “ ’Course, that doesn’t mean anyone else hasn’t. Like I said, everyone in town knows about it.”

  Shelby’s head dropped to the table.

  Jasmine tapped the back of Shelby’s head. “You do realize your cheek is in your plate, don’t you?”

  “I don’t care.”

  “You should.”

  She peered up at Jasmine. “Oh? Why?”

  “Because the chief just came in.”

  “Wha—?”

  “Hey there, ladies.”

  She closed her eyes then fo
rced herself to open them and look up. Sure enough, there he was. Deputy Dan Justice. Tall, handsome, and looking at her like she had gone round the bend.

  Way round.

  “Shelby, you feeling okay?”

  Actually, she wasn’t. She felt decidedly ill. But she plastered a smile on her face. “Just fine.”

  He bit his top lip and gave a slow nod. “Oh. Okay. Good.”

  She frowned at him. What was that look for?

  Fighting a grin, he reached out and plucked a piece of parsley from her cheek, holding it out to her between his fingers. She looked from it to him then back at it.

  “I … uh …” She grabbed her purse. “Excuse me.” She hopped up, slipping past him. “I have to go.”

  It was a coward’s exit. Shelby knew that. And she didn’t care one jot. Or so she told herself as she scurried back to her office.

  Pity she’d never been a good liar.

  “I’m outta here, Chief.”

  Dan glanced up from his desk. “Jasmine.”

  She rolled her head back and looked to the ceiling. “So-rry! Deputy. I’m outta here, Deputy.”

  He looked at his watch. “Three o’clock? Kinda early to be knocking off, isn’t it?”

  “Going to the valley to get my hair cut, remember?”

  Oh yes. She had told him about that. “Right. Sorry, I forgot.” He tipped his head. “So how come you don’t just go to the Beauty and Video Salon like everyone else in town?”

  She snorted. “Yeah, right! Like I’d let Mabel Jones touch my hair. She’d probably chop off an ear or somethin’. I mean, hey, you know what they call her?”

  “Jasmine.”

  But there was no stopping the girl when she was onto a juicy tidbit about one of the townspeople. She popped her gum, savoring it as much as her next words. “The Slasher.”

  Dan leaned his arms on his desk. “You know very well that’s because she was an English teacher way back when and used to mark kids’ papers up with a red pencil. It has nothing to do with cutting things.”