“There ya go, Emma Jean. Your ride’s full of oil and ready to go. Why don’t you start her up,” he instructed Ben, who was shining the light in the ditch beside the truck.
“Not yet. I found this in the ditch,” Ben said, holding up a lug nut. He bent down to inspect the right rear tire. “The hub covering the lug nuts has some grease on it.” He pulled out a pocketknife and pried it open.
The cover fell off and the flashlight showed that only two nuts were left holding the tire on, and even they had been loosened.
Stanley whistled beside them. “Oh-ee. Someone don’t like you.” He looked more closely at Ben. “You one of them tree huggers?”
“No, I am not.” He held the lug nut up in the light, looking at Emma. “We could have gotten hurt if we’d taken off without discovering this.”
Headlights appeared on the horizon, coming from town. A short burst of siren sounded two seconds after the headlights landed on them.
“What in hell else can go wrong?” Ben said with thinning patience.
“That’s Ramsey’s Blazer,” Emma said. “Why would he be out here?”
Ben sighed. “It must be Michael.”
Chapter Twelve
S ure enough, Emma recognizedthe silhouette in the front seat of the sheriff’s truck. His head hanging like that of a cooked goose, Michael Sands was a boy who knew he was in very big trouble.
“This is all your fault,” she hissed at Ben as they rounded the back of the Suburban. “‘Go out and get into boy trouble,’ you told him. ‘Hang out with your buddies,’ you said. I swear, Ben, if Mikey ends up with a juvenile record—”
She was pulled up short. “This is one of those times when Mike needs a father, Emma. Please, let me handle this.”
Damn, she hated when he threw her words back at her. She took a step back. He gave her a swift peck on the cheek and walked to the sheriff getting out of his truck.
Emma sidled over to within hearing distance, but then she caught sight of Mikey looking her up and down and grinning. She walked over to his window. “I’d wipe that smirk off my face if I were you.” She opened his door, then noticed—
“Handcuffs!” She glared at Sheriff Ramsey. “You get them off him right now!” Running around the front of the truck, she shoved Ben out of the way. “You get those handcuffs off that child this minute, Ramsey, or I swear you’ll never have clean sheets again.” She pointed her finger at him. “If Greta finds out what you’ve done, you’ll have burnt meals for the rest of your life. He’s only a child!”
Ramsey snorted. “Michael is no more a child than I am. I was just teaching him a little lesson.”
“On emotional scarring?”
“On what happens when you get caught in a criminal act,” the sheriff returned, his face growing serious. “And what’s going to happen if I ever catch him causing trouble again.”
“It’s okay, Nem,” Mikey said from beside her. “Sheriff Ramsey is actually being lenient. I could be in jail now instead of being escorted home.”
She turned to Mikey with a frown. “What did you do?”
Ramsey unfastened Michael’s cuffs. “The boy was pulling another prank with his friends—adolescent stuff. I was trying to scare a little sense into him.”
He pocketed the handcuffs, then brushed Emma’s hair over her shoulder in a fatherly fashion. “Nothing’s going to happen to your boy, here.” He looked over at Ben. “He’s got a good head on his shoulders. He’ll be okay.”
“Can I go home now, sir?” Michael asked.
“I can’t prove you were responsible for the earlier damage to the environmentalist’s truck, Mike, but I caught you red-handed this time. You can go home, but if I ever see you in town after ten o’clock at night again, I’m going to haul your ass to jail. Do we understand each other?”
“Yes, sir.”
Ramsey nodded. “Good. You’re much better than your actions tonight, Michael.” He looked from Emma to Ben, then back at Michael. “And you’ve got other things to be more interested in.”
“He’ll stay out of trouble, Sheriff.” Ben guided Emma back to the Suburban. “Why don’t you sit in the truck while Mike and I fix the wheel.”
“You got car trouble?” Sheriff Ramsey asked.
Ben turned. “Just a loose wheel. We’ll be fine. Thanks.”
Mikey moved to flank her other side. Emma rubbed her forehead. She wasn’t used to leaning on anyone, much less letting them coddle her. It kind of made her light-headed.
“Why didn’t you tell Ramsey about the oil and the tire?” she asked.
“I’m not willing to stir up any trouble just yet, and we can’t prove anything. It could have been kids, thinking I was a tree hugger.”
“What happened to the truck?” Mikey asked.
“It was sabotaged,” Emma told him.
“Take this flashlight and see if you can find any more lug nuts in the ditch, would you, Mike?” Ben asked.
“If you folks don’t need me anymore, I’ll be on my way,” Stanley said from the driver’s side of his truck.
Ben pulled out his wallet. “Let me give you something for the oil, and for helping us.”
Stanley waved the offer away. “I don’t need nothing from you folks. Emma Jean’s pulled my butt out of hot water more times than I can count.”
“Well, thanks again for your help,” Ben said. “It’s appreciated.”
“Thanks, Stanley,” Emma called out from the Suburban’s window, waving at him as he climbed into his rig.
Ben leaned his arm on the roof of the truck and stared at her, silent and thoughtful. She could practically see the wheels turning in his brain.
“I have to go away for a couple of days. I’m needed in New York. Why don’t you and Mike come with me?”
Emma knew he was worried about their safety. “Unfortunately, I can’t, I have a business to run.” She looked at the clock on the dash. “In three hours I have to get in my plane, fly down to Bangor, and pick up some sports. The archery deer season starts Monday.”
His frown deepened. “Hire it out. I want you two with me.”
“Take Mikey. He would love to see New York.”
“I want you to come, too.”
“I can’t.” She reached out and touched his chest. “I’m not in any danger, Ben. You are. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“We’ll discuss this after you get back tomorrow morning,” he said, striding away.
Emma stared at the dark road ahead of them. Sheriff Ramsey had gone back to Medicine Gore, Stanley following him. The lonely stretch of road was covered in silence again, except for the soft murmurs of Mikey and his father working at the back of the truck.
Ben seemed truly worried. She’d heard it in his voice when he asked her to go to New York, and she had seen it in the taut lines of his face when she had refused. It was kind of nice to have someone worry about her.
Kind of … comforting.
She sat in the truck, soaking up the stillness of the night, and wondered if Ben even realized what was happening to him. He was gathering moss by the bucket load now. He had fallen in love with his son, he’d asked his son’s aunt to marry him, and at the dance he had promised the town he would find the man responsible for blowing up the dam sixteen years ago.
Yup. He was definitely knee-deep in moss.
“I’d feel better if you were both coming with me.”
“You’re just worried about missing Mikey’s cooking,” Emma said patiently.
They were all seated around the kitchen table. Ben already had his bags in his truck, but he was making one last effort to get her and Mikey to go with him. Realizing she wouldn’t budge from her position, Ben had conceded that Michael probably should stay with her. Emma had rolled her eyes at his reasoning, and voted that Mikey go see the bright lights of New York. Mikey had simply folded his arms over his chest and softly said he was staying.