Part 33
“Jesus Christ, Wil! The shit has hit the fan,” Josh said over the phone that afternoon. “What in God's name have you been doing down there?”
Wilson sighed and stared at the water stain on the motel's ceiling as he listened to his closest friend bitch at him. He wasn't allowed to see Sally while she remained at the hospital, he didn't want to go back to the farm because it was too far away from her, and since he preferred to not go back to jail by trying to sneak in to see Sally, he was stuck here, twiddling his thumbs. Those were his choices, and he didn't like either of them. He had no idea where her brother lived, or he'd go there. A cab ride from the police department and this seedy motel room was all he could afford, and he was fairly sure the guy in the next room was cooking meth or something. The whole damn block smelled funny.
Josh didn't give him a chance to explain. In an angry, heated voice, he said, “You get arrested for disturbing the peace in a hospital and threatening a nurse, and a police officer, and a commissioner of the parole board in Arkansas just called me. Do you know what he said?”
“I can only imagine,” Wil groaned. Honestly, he didn't care if the governor himself called to complain. His only concern at the moment was Sally. He'd heard no word by now, though her brother told him she wasn't going to die, but that didn't mean anything. After enduring the past twelve hours in torment and waiting, no news wasn't exactly good news to him.
“He said that the ch-charges against you will be dropped if you g-get out of the state,” Josh said, his irritation making him stutter a little. Wilson felt a stab guilt about that. His friend worked very hard to overcome that childhood affliction. “You were given special p-privileges, Wil. Normally for a parolee to reside in another state, we'd have to go through m-months of preparations, home visits, and miles of red tape. I stuck my neck out for you to g-get all that sped up, and this is h-how you repay me?”
“I'm sorry, Josh.”
“So, you've got a choice, my friend,” Josh told him, breathing and speaking normally again.
Great, more terrible choices. “Which would be?”
“You've got twenty-four hours to get your ass across the state line, or I'll be forced to send a bounty hunter after you. Or you can go back to prison. Which is it?”
“I'm not leaving without seeing Sally,” Wilson said, booking no leniency in his tone.
“That woman has done nothing but cause you trouble,” Josh said.
Wilson closed his eyes and counted to ten. “Be careful what you say, Josh. I'm gonna marry that woman, and I'd hate for this to come between us one day.”
Josh grunted. “Listen, I understand. You love her. If that were me and Clara, I'd do the same thing, but we're talking about your freedom here. You're supposed to stay straight and narrow for two more years, Wil, and yet, you were arrested after only one month. I've supervised hard-core druggies and kleptomaniacs who stayed clean longer than that. If you really want to marry this woman, you'll convince her to come here to Missouri with you, because unless a miracle happens, you're restricted to this state for the remainder of your parole.”
Again, Wilson didn't care about all of that. “Listen, there's something not right here, I know it,” he said. “This Peter guy who Sally says used to work for the sheriff's department--”
“Peter? Peter Benson?”
“Hell if I know what his last name is. The Peter I'm talking about was Sally's former fiance, the one I told you about. We saw him one night, and she says he's been bothering her ever since. I think he's behind all this.”
Josh groaned loudly. “Wil, get out of there now. You don't want to tangle with Peter Benson. If you need money, I'll wire you some, but you need to leave Arkansas while you still can.”
Wilson sat up on the lumpy hotel bed and frowned at the ugly carpet. “Who is this guy?”
“Peter Benson was the public information officer for the sheriff in that county. Now he's a parole officer with strong ties to the chairman of the parole board. The man's a nutcase. If he's involved with your Sally and wants you gone, then you can be sure he's not going to give you any slack.”
“How do you know all this?”
Josh inhaled slowly. “I worked with him on a case a few years back. One of his parolees moved up here to Kansas City...a sex offender supposedly reformed.” Josh snorted belligerently. “A bunch of bullshit. The guy raped three young girls up here, and we couldn't do shit about it. I'm pretty damn sure money exchanged hands. Thankfully, the third victim retaliated with a butcher knife. He won't be doing anything sexual ever again.”
Wilson felt sick to his stomach. “Surely not. Who would just allow something like that to happen? Would someone like Peter plant a rattlesnake in a shower stall, hoping it bit someone?”
“You're the one who's been to prison, Wil,” Josh said sadly. “What do you think?”
He didn't need to answer that. He'd seen the vile souls inside evil men. Peter, at first, seemed to be just a petty man that wanted what he couldn't have. But to intentionally try to kill him? Or Sally?
If that was the case, there was no way he was leaving Sally to fend for herself. A man who would put a venomous creature within shouting distance of his beautiful, sweet Sally couldn't be allowed to so much as send her a birthday card. Besides, there was no telling what she might do if he wasn't around to keep her out of trouble. The woman swallowed up danger like a...well, a snake did a rat – ironic description as that was, considering Sally's aversion to the little rodents.
“I'm sorry, Josh,” he heard himself say, “I can't leave her...not when I think that bastard tried to kill her.”
Josh was silent for a long time. “I kind of figured that would be your answer. Twenty-four hours, Wil...maybe a little longer. I'll see what I can do – possibly you might get yourself hospitalized or something? That would give you some extra time. But if I don't hear from you by tomorrow night, I'll have no choice but to flag you. Do we understand each other? I'm putting my job on the line here, again.”
Wilson understood completely. There was only so much Josh could do for him. When all this was over, Wilson knew he owed Josh a steak dinner – a big, fat, juicy one with all the trimmings. After he ended that call, he dialed Sally's brother, Richard. Wilson cringed at the recollection of their first meeting. Asking permission to marry Sally while being cuffed and stuffed wasn't exactly the scenario he planned. But he couldn't let the opportunity pass. If Richard refused his blessing, that was fine by Wilson. Like Sally said, they didn't really need it, but it would be nice. He'd hate to enter that family with the patriarch despising him from the start.
Of course, afterward, Richard surprised him and showed up to post his bail. Technically, Wilson shouldn't have received bail, but he suspected strings were pulled. He heard the Police Captain talking to Richard about needing new motorbikes for his fleet, and an hour later, Wilson was released.
Sally's brother said four words to him before he walked away. “This won't happen again.”
Wilson took that promise as it was meant. He won't be given another chance to earn his respect. He'd better do good this time. Add that to the fact that the older man left him stranded outside the police department without transportation…it was kind of a subtle hint: Be a man. Stop screwing around.
As he waited for Richard to pick up the call, Wilson thought about him. The man radiated power, but not blatantly. Wilson could see the mischief and kindness in his brown eyes, so much like Sally's. There, the resemblance stopped. While Sally sported a rounded, petite frame, golden curls and tanned skin, her brother was pale, tall, a bit pudgy, and dark-haired. And the ready smile seemed more natural on Sally, as though Richard had faced a different sort of hardships.
Wilson could only imagine. Raising a hellcat like Sally couldn't have been easy, but spoiling her probably was very easy. Wilson knew he wanted to pamper her with everything he could get his hands on. And when he asked Richard about Sally's status in the hospital, his expression turned indulgent and doting for a brief second.
He loved his sister. Enough that he rescued the man she loved from a hell surrounded in cement blocks and iron bars. For that alone, Wilson admired the man. Would he do differently? Rescue the one his own sibling loved?
Considering how he'd failed to save Macie, Wilson looked at Richard and saw a man a hundred times more brotherly than he'd ever be. Wilson only hoped to someday express that sentiment and still be looked upon by Richard Sanborn with a semblance of goodness he felt he didn't deserve.
“Well, if it isn't the jailbird,” a man's voice said when the call connected.
Wilson jerked to attention and cleared his throat. “Hello, Mr. Sanborn...”
“It's Richard, Wilson,” Sally's brother said with a small chuckle. “Or Richie if you prefer. Sally likes dumbass, but you can't call me that...at least, not yet.”
Wilson didn't know how to respond to that. “Um...okay. Richard. I'm calling to see if Sally is okay...she is, right?”
“Sally's fine,” his said. “She's fighting mad that you're not here, though.”
“So, she's still at the hospital?”
“We're checking out now. You want to meet us at the farm. I think we should be properly introduced, seeing as we're going to be kin and all.”
Closing his eyes and nearly crying with relief, he nodded, then realized Richard couldn't see the action, he replied in a choked voice, “I'll be there. Can I talk to her?”
“I think it's best that you wait on that. She needs to go home and rest, and she'll be eager to do that if she knows you'll be there waiting on her.”
“Of course...I'll, uh, see you soon.”
Richard ended the call without further words, and Wilson pressed the cell phone to his forehead, breathing steadily, shaking a little. She was fine.
He stuffed his feet in his boots and hurried out the door. There was no need to check out. When the desk clerk didn't receive additional payment for extra days, they'd turn the room over to someone else. The only problem he faced now was...how the hell did he get back to the farm?