“And this person?” He pointed to someone else.
“That’s Ted Dixon. He’s a thriller writer. Has a handful of books out. Maybe you’ve heard of him?”
“No.” He’d never done much reading, not even when he was in school. Homework and preparing for college—that hadn’t been nearly as important to his father as making sure Levi was lifting weights and learning new martial-arts moves. Leo had needed a prizefighter to put his dojo on the map. His own street cred had depended on it; so had the amount he could earn.
Tina interrupted with a question for Callie, and Callie walked over to the computer to help. When she returned, she touched his arm. “You ready to go?”
Levi pulled himself away from the portrait. He hadn’t expected it, but the unity and tranquillity of this town appealed to him.
7
Callie felt a hard lump in her stomach the moment she saw a police cruiser turn down her drive. She’d been out photographing the anthill again while Levi repaired the hinges on the back door of the barn. The roof would need even more work, but due to their trip to town, which had included some grocery shopping on the way home, they hadn’t gotten an early start. He fixed his motorcycle first, so he’d only been working on the barn for an hour. She was already walking to the house, planning what to make for dinner, when she saw that the cop was Tim Stacy, chief of Whiskey Creek’s four-man police force.
Window down, arm hanging out, he didn’t seem to notice the dust being kicked up by his tires. He waved as if this was a friendly visit, but she suspected it wasn’t all that friendly. Although Chief Stacy was about ten years her senior, they’d known each other for years. She’d taken his children’s baby pictures. But if she had to guess, he wasn’t here for personal reasons. He’d come to get to the bottom of the dog incident. She wouldn’t have minded that, except it was probably at Denny and Powell’s insistence.
And she knew Levi wouldn’t be pleased to learn the police were now involved....
Masking her concern with a welcoming smile, she greeted Stacy as he got out. “Hi, Chief!”
“Gorgeous evening, isn’t it?”
“There’s no summer like a Whiskey Creek summer,” she said, although to her mind, fall was even more beautiful.
He acknowledged her words with a jerk of his hat. “No, ma’am.”
Leaving her camera on the wicker love seat by the front door, she stepped up to meet him as he reached the stairs. “What can I do for you today?”
The way he studied her gave her the impression that he was weighing every reaction. “Word has it you have a guest.”
“That’s true.”
Thumbs hooked in his belt, he turned to survey the property until he heard Levi’s hammer ring out from the vicinity of the barn. Then, seemingly satisfied to have located the object of their conversation, he faced her again.
“A drifter—that right?”
The censure in those words, suggesting she was crazy to take Levi in, bothered her but she couldn’t blame Stacy. She knew her parents would feel the same. “I don’t know much about his personal situation,” she admitted. “But his name is Levi McCloud.”
“Do you know where he’s from?”
She felt as if every line he spoke had an alternate interpretation. This time he was asking if she’d looked into his background, at least to that extent. “Seattle,” she told him.
“And you met him...”
He already knew this. He was taking her through the basic facts to drive home a point. “Here. Night before last. He showed up at my door.”
“Covered in blood. So you called emergency services.”
“That’s right. Officers Willis and Jones came out, but he was gone by the time they got here.” And they couldn’t find him, even though they’d searched, because Levi had slipped into her bathroom. But she wasn’t going to volunteer that. It certainly wouldn’t make her actions look any more sensible—or his any less suspect.
“That’s how I understand it, too.” He squinted at her. “So when did he come back?”
“After they left.”
“Because...”
“He had no choice,” she explained. “He’d been attacked by two dogs and was in no condition to go elsewhere.”
“See...this is where I get confused.” He pushed his hat up to scratch underneath it. “How’d he manage to elude my men if he was so badly hurt? Or maybe a better question would be...why would he go to the trouble?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know.” It was the truth, but she wasn’t entirely comfortable with it.
“Yet this man is staying here with you.”
Denny and Powell had paid Stacy a visit, all right. Otherwise, how would the police chief know where Levi was?
Or maybe Kyle or Godfrey had asked him to keep an eye on her.
“Until he can get his motorcycle fixed, yes,” she said.
“I see.” He sighed before glancing in the direction of the intermittent hammering. “You mind if I have a talk with him?”
“Not at all,” she replied but, in a way, she did mind. If there was anything terrible in Levi’s background, she didn’t want to know about it. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was because she believed he needed a new start—that regardless of what had happened in the past, he’d suffered enough.
“Levi?” she called. “Could you come to the house for a minute?”
The hammering stopped. Callie felt certain he’d heard her. But he didn’t appear.
“Levi?” she called again. “Chief Stacy would like a word with you.”
Nothing. No answer.
Finally, they walked to where he’d been repairing the door. Rifle was lying near the ladder, but Levi was gone. And when they searched the farm they couldn’t find him anywhere.
* * *
By the time Levi knocked at the farmhouse door, it’d been a good hour since the police had left. Levi had been wrestling with himself all of that time. He knew he should drive away and leave Whiskey Creek behind. It wasn’t wise to stay here. But, wise or not, he couldn’t go without fulfilling the promises he’d made.
Maybe Callie would change his mind. Maybe she’d refuse to let him in. But she didn’t. She stared up at him for a second, then stepped back so he could walk past her. “Your dinner’s cold,” she said. “Come and sit down. I’ll heat it up.”