Don't Catch Me Page 9

  The blond looked to Chase. Maybe she was scared of her. Good!

  “Why don’t we all sit down, Rose, Billy Jo?” He gestured to the metal stools welded to the table, one extra on his side for Rose. Rose did sit down, with Chase beside her. Billy Jo finally sat apprehensively and then glanced to the window to see whether the guard was still there.

  “You look a little worried, Billy Jo,” Chase said, and she looked down at the table and realized he didn’t have his usual work stuff with him. Maybe he was done.

  “No, no, fine here,” she said. It was hard to get out. She felt stiff, but then, it was hard when she was waiting once more for the world to yank the rug out from under her.

  “Yeah, bullshit,” Chase said. “Listen, let me get right to it. I don’t want to give you false hope because I don’t want to let you down more than I already have.”

  Here we go. It was coming, and it was always the same. She wanted to laugh at what an idiot she’d been for allowing this asshole to have any time with her.

  “Would you look at me?” he snapped, and she pulled her eyes away from the window and over to him and Rose, who was looking extremely uncomfortable.

  “Say it. I have things to do,” she snapped, willing herself to hold it together until she got out of there.

  “I’m trying to get you put in my care, my custody, but in order to do that I have to get approved from the state and have a place.”

  She was staring at him. His mouth was still moving, but her ears were ringing. “What?”

  He glanced up over her shoulder and then back to her. “I started the process to get on the approved foster list in Oregon so that I can get you released into my care.”

  She had to turn away from him because the ache in her chest had gotten away from her. She slid around and went to stand, but her legs were limp, so she crossed her arms over her stomach, holding on to the pain and trying to breathe. Her eyes burned and her throat ached, but Billy Jo didn’t cry. “You wouldn’t be fucking around with me, would you?” It hurt to speak, and she heard him walk around. She could feel him looking down on her, and she didn’t look up to see him standing right in front of her.

  “Nope. Wouldn’t do that to you,” he said, and when she looked up at him, she couldn’t see him clearly because tears were in her eyes. She wiped roughly, but she still felt one run down her cheek.

  “So why is she here?” she said. Rose was another someone she didn’t know, another someone she didn’t trust, and even though he’d just dangled the ultimate carrot in front of her, she wondered now how much he’d shared about her with this woman.

  “Because Chase and I are now living together,” Rose said, and Billy Jo looked up at Chase.

  He shrugged as a cocky smile touched his lips. “Have to be a resident and have a place to live to get approved—so now I have a place,” he added, still standing in front of her. “But make no mistake, Billy Jo: I will get you out of here, and you are still my client. Whatever you say still remains between you and me.”

  Chapter 19

  It was unheard of to become approved as foster parents in two days, but that was exactly how long the process took for Chase McCabe and Rose Wilcox. He’d contacted a friend in Washington who was an aide for an Oregon congressman, who contacted a senator, who made a call to someone in the CPS office, a high-ranking official who’d moved mountains and hurried the process along. That basically meant dust hadn’t collected on any part of the process, and Child Services hadn’t been given time to drag their feet.

  The home inspection, record checks, and applications had happened in one day and had been rubber stamped. Once again, Chase appreciated that knowing people in higher places allowed him to cut through all the unnecessary bureaucratic bullshit. No one delayed, and as soon as he’d been approved, the petition was before the judge, who signed the order to have Billy Jo released on bail—bail Chase had put up willingly.

  He glanced again to the girl in the passenger seat of his BMW, belted in, hands folded in her lap, the gray jeans and shirt he’d first met her in looking old and tired.

  “You haven’t said two words to me since I picked you up. You must have questions, something, anything?”

  She was staring out the window, and then she leaned over and turned on the radio. Music poured through the speakers. She turned it up louder. Springsteen, a great song. He reached over and turned the music down. “Use your words, Billy Jo,” he said.

  “Why her?” she said, and it took him a minute to realize she meant Rose. Great question, considering he knew about as much about Rose as he did about Billy Jo, which was little except that they both had trust issues and needed his help.

  “Rose is on your side,” he said. She reached over and cranked the radio up again, loud, but he turned it off. “Stop it, would you?” Okay, so Rose was a sore spot for the girl. “Let’s talk about Rose, where her house is, where we’re going to be living,” he said.

  She turned to look out the passenger window. What was up with the girl?

  “Rose is in the middle of renovating,” he said. The kitchen was basically back together, except for a missing wall of cabinets, and the dishes were in a box. The table was a card table, but at least there were four chairs.

  She said nothing, and he glanced to her again. “Come on, say something, or maybe we should talk about the case.”

  “Freda is my cellmate, or was my cellmate. Did you know she didn’t commit a crime, but a judge signed something to jail her because she’s a witness? She’s been there a long time. Can you help her?”

  He could feel her watching him. She’d just turned the tables on him. “It happens,” he said, and there was silence. How to explain to a kid that this type of thing went back to the beginning of time? It didn’t happen often, only when a client had no money, no ties, and the crime was serious enough that the DA could convince the judge the witness would be long gone without incarceration. It was a flawed system, for sure.

  “Is that a no, you won’t waste your time?” She had a smart mouth, and he took in the highway that was becoming too familiar, and the miles he still had ahead.

  “If you recall, I’m helping you, working on your case, getting you out of a jam you still haven’t shared all the details on, leaving me to stumble along and guess things instead of you providing facts.”

  “So that’s a no,” she said flatly as if she’d just figured him out and decided he had let her down big time.

  “You want me to go help this friend of yours?” Chase said.

  “She’s not a friend,” Billy Jo was quick to say.

  “Sorry, cellmate that you shared space with. You want me to take time and help her when I should be helping you?”

  She said nothing. He wondered if this was some sort of test. There was no way this woman meant anything to her, because Bill Jo didn’t let people in. It must have been a test for him. He took a breath, because he wondered what kind of minefield he was going to have to navigate, what kinds of constant tests she’d throw his way.

  “Great, just great,” he said. “I’ll make you a deal, and this is non-negotiable. I’ll talk to her, see what I can do with her situation, and then you have to sit down and tell me everything. No evading. I ask you something, you answer. Deal?” he said and noted how still she went, staring straight out the window. She was quiet, thinking, and he could tell she was considering.

  He waited in silence as a road sign appeared in the distance for McDermitt. The small community on the Oregon side, where Rose’s house sat, was just ahead. He flicked on his signal light.

  “You get her out of jail, fix her problem, and I’ll talk to you,” Billy Jo said.

  He wanted to smile, but he stifled it. The girl was a quick study at negotiating. He bet she could be kickass if she wanted. She was smart. “If it’s as you say and there isn’t some hidden crime she was part of, I’ll get her out. Then you talk. But if she’s part of something and it’s not as you say, no deal, but you still talk.” He looked her way
and took in her breathing, the excitement. Yeah, she liked the art of the deal. She was a problem solver, he suspected, with a lot of roughness that came from surviving. Now to see if she kept her end of the agreement. “I’m not waiting to fix her problem before you talk to me, though,” he said. “We don’t have that kind of time, so I’ll agree to see her in the morning, but tonight you answer one of my questions.”

  The road was gravelly and dusty, and he saw Rose’s pickup in the distance, the Cape Cod house with paint stripped off the front. Rose had hung a basket of flowers at the front door that morning. He pulled in front and parked, then turned off the car.

  Billy Jo worked her mouth and then turned his way. “Only one, and then you help her, but don’t screw with me,” she said as she put her hand on the handle and climbed out of his car.

  “Hey,” he said before she could close the door. She was waiting for him to say something, do something. “I won’t do that to you, and I’m not going to say I promise or that you can trust me, because I’m pretty sure those are words you never want to hear from anyone again, but I’ll tell you this: I will do what I say. You are now in my care. This is where we’re living.” For now, he thought, but he wouldn’t share that with her. Rose was an emergency step they’d both decided on. “And I will go and help your cellmate.”

  She didn’t answer, because Rose was now on the front steps, looking pretty and anxious. As she lifted her hand to him, Chase could see she was scared absolutely shitless.

  Chapter 20

  What had she been thinking? She’d basically opened her home to a man she barely knew and a kid who was trouble, and she still needed to settle everything with Chase.

  “So this is your room,” she said to Billy Jo after leading her through the house. “It overlooks where the garden will be when I get around to putting that in, but there’s a fantastic cherry tree back here.” The room had a double bed, a pink quilt, a white dresser, and an empty closet. “I went shopping for you and got you some clothes. I had to guess on your size, but if something doesn’t fit or you don’t like it, let me know and I’ll take it back.”

  The bags were on the bed. She’d meant to go through everything and at least have them hung up for her, but then she’d had to hurry to finish the bathroom, putting the tiles up and caulking so there was a usable bathtub.

  “I’m throwing on some burgers for lunch. Everyone hungry?” Chase said from the doorway, his hand resting on the doorframe as he took in the detail and the fresh paint. “I can’t believe you finished this. Looks great. Saw you finished the bathroom, too.”

  Billy Jo was wandering the bedroom, but she wasn’t answering. She hadn’t even looked at the clothes, and Rose didn’t know what to say to her. Maybe the panic showed in her eyes, as Chase reached over and squeezed her shoulder.

  “Hey, Billy Jo, how many burgers you want?”

  “Can I have two?” she asked, and Rose didn’t know what to make of it.

  “Two it is,” Chase said. “Rose, can you come and give me a hand? Billy Jo, get settled in and look at the clothes Rose picked up for you, make sure they fit, and then come down. After lunch, we’re talking.”

  Rose wasn’t sure what had passed between them, but Billy Jo rolled her eyes at Chase and then shrugged. Chase motioned her out to the stairs. She took in his room and the mattress on the floor. Hers was at the top of the stairs, the master with a half-finished en suite. The shower was ripped out, but the toilet was new. She too had only a bed and boxes for a dresser. The plan had been to buy furniture after she finished the house.

  Chase was behind her on the stairs where they opened to a large living room with an open fireplace. The house had a den and a family room at the other end. The kitchen was the centerpiece, and she didn’t want to rush it.

  “You did a lot of work here to get this ready. Just give her some time. Can’t imagine how she’s feeling right now. Probably overwhelmed,” he said, and she followed him out the sliding glass door of the kitchen to the barbecue he’d fired up. He glanced up to the second floor, to Billy Jo’s window.

  “I don’t know what to say to her. She’s tough.”

  Chase laughed as he scraped the barbecue. The lid was up, the flame lit. “That’s kind of like saying the pope is a little religious.”

  She crossed her arms under her breasts and stood there as Chase walked back in and then out again with a box of frozen burger patties. He pulled five out and put them on the grill. He glanced her way.

  “Just one for me,” she said. “I’m not a growing teenager.”

  He smiled again. Boy, did he have a nice smile. “No, you’re an attractive woman who, judging by the freaked-out look on your face, is probably wondering how you got yourself into this mess. You’ve gone from your isolated existence to suddenly having two roommates. You got barbecue sauce?” he asked.

  “In the fridge.”

  He stepped into the house, and she could hear him rummaging.

  “There’s just a lot we don’t know about each other,” she said, wondering where to start. She was fidgeting with her fingers. He’d done so much, basically created a miracle for this girl, pulling her out of jail, calling in favors from people in the political circle. He made things happen. It had really sunk in as she sat back and watched how he handled everything to get Billy Jo away from people she really believed were harmful. He had connections, and it rattled her, having shaken up her entire world for the past two short days.

  “I’m a great listener, you know,” he said. “It’s not lost on me that you have a lot you’ve been hesitant to share, like why you needed a gun to be safe, and one without papers. You didn’t want to be involved because then your name would be on record, but now you stepped up, and I didn’t stop you. You’re definitely in the public record with the foster system now, and because I’m living here, this is my residence of record now, too. You were checked, your history, everything, so maybe it’s time to trust me enough to tell me what it is you’re scared of—or who you’re hiding from.” He was smart, he’d figured it out, but anyone would have. He just hadn’t pushed.

  “I was married,” she said, her hands wrapped around her forearms, squeezing, scared, still seeing her husband’s dark eyes, his dark hair, his smile that had fooled her. “He was an important man. Still is.” He’d wooed her, courted her, and she’d loved him.

  “And he hurt you,” Chase said. “Rose.” He stepped closer to her, and she looked up and into kindness, blueness, the eyes of the kind of man she’d never believed existed.

  “He hit me only once before we were married. It was out of character. He’d had a bad day, a shitty meeting. He begged me for forgiveness and said it would never happen again. The second time, after our honeymoon, he busted my lip and gave me a black eye, a bruised rib. He’d been drinking. He signed up for AA and got help. I forgave him. The last time he, broke my jaw and my nose, dislocated my shoulder, busted two ribs. My front teeth are implants. The surgeon who pieced my jaw back together used screws and a metal plate. It aches when it rains. As I lay in that hospital bed, the cops were standing outside the door, waiting to take my statement, and he told me he’d kill me if I talked to them. He’d kill me if I left him. And because of who he was, I believed him.”

  Chase was staring down at her, and she wasn’t sure what his expression was—horror for her or at her.

  “I knew there would never be a next time, and the nurse who was looking after me knew who he was. She called a shelter. They came for me and snuck me out. I’m still married, and he’ll be looking for me. This time, Chase, he’ll probably find me. I don’t use my married name or my maiden name. Wilcox is my grandmother’s name from my mom’s side. I had money set aside in a trust, but I moved it to a shell company and set up an account. The house is owned by the company. I did my best to disappear. The shelter helped. He’d have to comb the country looking for me, but helping Billy Jo… I knew as soon as the fingerprints were done for the criminal record check that I’ve just made it that m
uch easier for him to find me.”

  “Who is this guy, Rose?” Chase asked.

  “Senator Travis Worthington,” she said.

  She heard a creak behind her and jumped, turning to see Billy Jo standing, watching her. Of course she’d heard everything, and this was the first time she saw something in the girl’s expression that told her she didn’t care only about herself.

  Chapter 21

  Travis Worthington, Senator Travis Worthington from North Carolina, was one of the top picks in the Republican Party. He was liked and respected, and as far as Chase had heard, the media even viewed him as one of the good guys.

  He was sitting at the card table in bare feet, blue jeans, and a baggy T-shirt, making notes. He’d heard the power drill running and knew Rose was doing something that seemed to settle her, like putting up drywall in the den.

  Chase heard a clatter in the kitchen and took in Billy Jo dumping a glass into what he knew was an overfilled sink, because after burgers at lunch the dishwasher had decided to break down. She was wearing a pair of new blue jeans and the orange and white T-shirt Rose had spent half a day in Vale buying for her, with a look on her face that could have been pissed or happy. He didn’t have a clue.

  “So what’s she doing?” Billy Jo said—and “she” was still the only way Billy Jo would refer to her.

  “Trying to settle herself. Kind of like how you tell everyone to go screw themselves, Rose starts building, renovating. She’s a woman who likes power tools.”

  That got him nothing from Billy Jo. He gestured with the flat of his hand to a chair. “Sit now. We had a deal. I see your friend in the morning…” He held up his hand as soon as he realized her smart mouth was about to set him straight. “Sorry, former cellmate, and you answer one of my questions now.” He jabbed his pen to her as she leaned back in the chair and crossed her arms over her skinny chest. “Did the gun you had come from the Humboldts?” He watched her, and she didn’t blink, but he could tell she was thinking. “Answer. Do not think of what story to tell. We had a deal.”