“If necessary,” Stacy said.
Suddenly, Levi itched to hit the road, to leave this arrogant son of a bitch behind—so he wouldn’t do something he might regret, like rearranging Stacy’s face. “And how do you propose to do that?” he asked. “By getting involved in Callie’s personal life, even though she wouldn’t thank you for it?”
“Mr. McCloud, I’ll decide what’s too personal and what isn’t. Do you understand?”
“Better than you realize.”
“I don’t think that’s the case. So let me make things a little clearer. You’ve been here almost a week. That’s long enough to recover.”
“Are you asking me to leave?”
“I’m merely pointing out that you might be wearing out your welcome. Where do you plan on going from here?”
Knowing his delay in responding would make as much of a statement as his words, Levi waited a second before replying. “Wherever I want.”
“That’s easy, isn’t it?” Stacy said with a humorless chuckle. “When you don’t have a job like the rest of us?”
“Is that why we’re sitting here, Chief Stacy? Because I don’t have a job? That’s somehow breaking the law in your book?”
Red suffused the other man’s face. “I’ll admit there could be worse things. There’s nothing on you in the system, Mr. McCloud. No traffic citations. No previous arrests.”
It required effort not to curl his hands into fists. “Isn’t that good?”
“It would be if it was accurate. But I have reason to believe it’s not.”
An uneasy feeling skittered down Levi’s spine.
“Godfrey mentioned that you were in the military. Is that true?”
He said nothing.
“It is, isn’t it? But the background check I ran doesn’t show that, either. No Levi McCloud from Seattle has ever served in the armed forces.”
Stacy knew he wasn’t using his real name, or his military record would’ve come up.
“Do you have an ID you can show me?”
“Sorry. It got burned in the fire.” That wasn’t true. After that night in Nevada, he’d thrown his wallet into a lake. He knew he’d never be able to use it again, had simply picked a new name, but hadn’t gone so far as to buy false ID. He had no idea where people even came up with that shit.
“That’s too bad,” Stacy said. “Now you have no proof that you are who you say you are.”
“It’s unfortunate,” Levi agreed.
“There is one way to solve it....”
“And that is?”
“I’d rather you were someone else’s problem. Since you arrived, we’ve had a dog attack and a fire. Two serious incidents. Whether you’re to blame or not, trouble seems to follow you. So let me ask you again—how long are you planning on staying?”
A noise over by the kitchen drew Levi’s attention. Callie was off the phone. He had no idea when she’d started listening in, but judging by the blush of anger on her cheeks, she’d overheard enough to know that all wasn’t well.
“What are you trying to say, Chief?” she asked, coming into the room. “Are you saying he’s not welcome in Whiskey Creek?”
After taking a final swallow of coffee, Stacy put his cup and saucer on the table. “No need to get upset, Callie. I think Mr. McCloud and I understand each other,” he said, and wished them both a good day before he left.
15
“What did all that mean?”
Reluctant to look at Callie, who was crouched in front of his chair, staring up at him, Levi pinched the bridge of his nose. “You don’t want to know.”
“Chief Stacy said your service in the military didn’t show up in his background search.”
“That’s what he said.”
She nudged his leg. “Why?”
Blowing out a sigh, he returned her gaze. “Because my name isn’t McCloud, okay?”
Eyes wide, she rocked back. “Then...who are you?”
For some reason, her crestfallen expression made him angry. He didn’t want to see her so shocked and upset, didn’t want to be the cause of it. “Does it matter?” he snapped. “You knew I was wanted by the police.”
“You said it was for speeding tickets! But Stacy said you had no speeding tickets. And, even if you really do, a couple of speeding tickets is no reason to assume a false identity.”
“It’s as good a reason as any. Why go to jail? Anyway, I’m just helping you out for a few days. We’re never going to see each other after I leave. So how is my name even important? Would Smith or Jones or Hall be any better than McCloud for some man who once painted your barn?”
He was being a jerk, but he couldn’t say why. He had no excuse to be unkind to Callie. It was the police chief who’d hit him with reality and made him want to strike back. Callie hadn’t done anything except try to help him.
Fortunately, she didn’t make matters worse by appearing wounded. She came right back at him. “Are you that determined not to care about anyone? And not to let anyone care about you?”
“I told you from the beginning not to expect anything from me!” Desperate to put some space between them, he got up and approached the mantel, where a large gilded mirror showed him the conflicting emotions on his face.
Rising to her feet, she spoke from behind him. “Then go, if that’s what you’re dying to do! Nothing’s stopping you.”
“Except my word. I’ll pay you back before I leave.”
“You’ve already done enough. You don’t owe me anything. Consider the money I spent on your bike a...a gift—from one stranger to another.”
He whirled to confront her. “And what about Denny Seamans and his buddy? They probably set the fire in the barn tonight. You know that. They could come back.”
“I can handle them myself,” she insisted. “I don’t need you any more than you need me.”
“Fine.” He no longer had his leather coat, his backpack, his extra clothes and shoes—just what he had on his back and the boots he’d worn the night he was attacked by those dogs. He’d cleaned off the blood and left them by the back door to dry. But that was enough. He’d always been able to fend for himself. It was when others depended on him that life got complicated.
So she was right—it was best that he leave now, before whatever had started here grew any messier.