The Sheriff's Second Chance

The trail had been named 150 years ago, when Thomas Cutler had bought a thousand acres along what had amounted to a bumpy narrow ditch. He’d built a house, made the ditch a road and started up a newspaper. The newspaper was the start of an empire that had soon grown to include several local businesses, including the bank, and had made the family a fortune.

Thomas Cutler had wasted no time advertising far and wide that Maple Junction, Wisconsin, was a quaint dairy town worth visiting by horseless carriage. There was toboggan racing in the winter, maple-syrup tapping in the spring, strawberry picking in the summer, and the corn harvest in the autumn, and each had spawned its own festival, not to mention a county fair and several horse shows.

And all were reported in the daily paper, the Cutler Express.

All looked quiet as Ethan wheeled through the estate’s huge steel gates and up the sweeping paved drive. The windows of the sprawling stone mansion were alight, glowing on all three levels.

He desperately hoped Lewis hadn’t had another heart attack….

Lewis had become a second father to Ethan ever since, as four-year-olds, he and Lewis’s son Bradley had enjoyed a weekly wrestle under the willow trees outside church each Sunday. With parents too busy with chores and errands, young kids in the small rural community didn’t get to play together too often, so he’d started to really look forward to Sundays.

In due time, after Ethan had mastered tying his own shoes, his mother had started to drop him off at the mansion for play dates. The boys had spent their time kicking a soccer ball, digging holes in search of treasure and wading through swampland to catch toads, all fuelled by piles of sandwiches.

Ethan’s bond with the Cutlers had only strengthened with time. Ethan’s dad traveled selling insurance, so it was Lewis who’d supported the boys at school, taken them to professional sporting events and had been on hand for nearly every milestone in their lives. Lewis had loved to push envelopes and pull strings for them. Some of that push-pull still went on. While Ethan was more than confident in his role as sheriff, it was Lewis who’d helped swing his election last year.

A uniformed maid pulled open the heavy front door before Ethan could get his hand around the brass handle. It was the eldest Parker daughter, Carol, who’d dropped out of UW–Madison in midterm to rethink her future. Ethan had dated her on occasion and had found her a bit boring. Just the same, he hoped they would always be friends. She was just the friend he needed tonight. Carol had been working for the Cutlers for four months and knew enough about household politics to clue him in.

“Faster than a speeding bullet tonight, aren’t ya?” she greeted coyly.

Brushing by her, Ethan hurried into the dim cavernous foyer, glancing up the wide staircase. “Where is he, Carol? Up with the doc?”

“Nope. Right in there.” She calmly tipped her curly orange head left, toward the study.

“Did he collapse? What happened?”

Carol reached to stroke some short brown strands of hair from his forehead in a gesture he thought far too intimate. “I’m not sure.”

He gave her shoulders a mild shake, hoping to rattle her composure. “Did anybody call an ambulance?”

Slowly and with a mysterious smile that seemed to suggest she was enjoying his touch, she replied, “Nobody else was called. You’re all he wants.”

Confused, Ethan strode off through the walnut door into the spacious den he knew was Lewis Cutler’s comfort room. It was where he came to plot, relax, dream. And brood. Ethan suspected the latter was true tonight as he found Lewis seated in his favorite leather recliner, accepting a snifter of brandy from his wife, Bailey. Judging by the filmy glass and Cutler’s equally filmy eyes, it was likely a refill.

“Finally, Ethan!”

Ethan was a bit startled to discover a fully functioning Lewis. Carol’s lack of urgency was suddenly more understandable.

“What exactly is the matter here, Lew?”

Lewis leaned forward in his chair. “Have you heard?”

“Heard what?”

“The news. The horrible news.”

Ethan appealed to Bailey. In her blue satin lounging pajamas, a paperback and eyeglasses clutched in one hand, she appeared to have been abruptly summoned, too. Now, unseen by Lewis, whose blood pressure could stand nothing but her utter faith and devotion, she stared off into space with strained patience.

“Leave us, Bailey,” Lewis directed, a bit more gently. “You needn’t be concerned with this.”

Bailey hated the dismissal. She frowned and opened her mouth, but then as was expected, closed it again. Holding herself like a model, she exited obediently and Ethan was struck, not for the first time, how beautiful the fiftyish platinum blonde was. Their son Brad had favored her and had been truly grateful for it.

“So what is this news, Lew?” Ethan demanded.

Lewis wheezed—courtesy of his cigar smoking—then swigged down another slug of brandy. “Kelsey Graham. Returning for your class reunion.”

“Really.” Ethan’s heart jumped wildly in his chest. He worked to keep his voice even. “Still, might be just a rumor.”

“I made a few calls. Trust me, it’s true.”

Ethan didn’t think to doubt the sharp newspaper mogul’s sources.

Lewis glared into the flames flickering in the old marble fireplace. It wasn’t a particularly cold June evening, but there was a slight chill in the air since a thundershower that afternoon. Lewis felt the cold more easily these days, deep in his bones where brandy couldn’t seep. He was a baker’s dozen years older than his wife and the gap seemed more pronounced than ever. Ethan knew Lewis regretted not diving into marriage sooner, like he had everything else, and having a bundle of kids. His late start had produced only one son. And Brad’s life had been so tragically short.

“How dare she come back?” Lewis thundered. “The girl who killed our Brad.” He rested drunken eyes on Ethan, eyes which looked moist.

Raw emotion swelled inside Ethan threatening to leave him splintered and miserable. He tamped it down with remarkable control. “Whatever happened out there on Route 6 that night, Lew—” he struggled for his voice “—was an accident.”

“She killed my precious boy.” Big tears of despair began to spill.

Ethan had the sudden urge to bolt, to escape a replay of the decade-old mess. But he was dealt in permanently at the Cutler’s table, as intimately as he had been back in his frog-catching days. With his own parents relocated to Arizona, Ethan most often turned to Lewis for financial advice, fishing company, or just to rehash a ball game.

Staying numb was his only chance. He abruptly strode across to the room’s wet bar and poured himself a short whiskey. The brandy Lewis was guzzling cost three hundred bucks a bottle and, in Ethan’s opinion, was stuff to be saved strictly for the good times.

Ethan wandered round the big room sipping his drink, taking in the sameness, the security he’d always felt here. A stuffed moose head, trophies for shooting, a mantel full of photos of Ethan and Brad growing up. Lewis loved showing off his wide range of skills, as hunter, mogul and mentor. When the boys were in high school, the room had featured pictures of Kelsey as well. For two and a half years she’d been a valued part of this family, just like Ethan.

Kelsey Graham, the love of Bradley Cutler’s young life. Who’d apparently smashed up his sporty black VW Jetta on prom night, killing not only Brad, but friends Todd Marshall and Lissa Hanson.

“I had an agreement with the mother,” Lewis muttered. “Ship Kelsey off to Bryn Mawr and I would put a stop to any town boycott of her café.”

Ethan arched a brow. “Was there a boycott in the works?”

“The way everyone loved those three dead kids? Who’d support a restaurant harboring her?”

“But sending her to Philadelphia seemed so extreme, when she was already enrolled at the University of Wisconsin like the rest of us.”

“Had she gone to school in Madison with you, she could’ve commuted back here on weekends. Like nothing ever happened. Intolerable.”

This was the first Ethan had heard of any embargo on the café. But the town had been hysterical back then. The only thing folks seemed to agree on was the basic account of the accident: Kelsey had lost control on a dark slick curve out in the countryside and had hit a tree, ejecting all four kids on impact. Brad and Lissa had died at the scene. Kelsey and Todd had been raced to Maple County Hospital for treatment, where Todd had died without regaining consciousness.

Ethan shook off a shiver as he recalled how he’d gone to the prom in the Jetta. But his date had gotten ill halfway through the evening and he’d taken her home by taxi. He’d returned to the party to discover Brad and Kelsey had left with Todd and Lissa. Understandable, as he wouldn’t have been any fun solo. While it had been a disappointment at the time, Susie Moore’s flu bug had probably saved both their lives.

“I can’t help but wonder how she found out about the reunion in the first place,” Lewis grumbled.

“She probably was sent an invitation along with the rest of us.”

“Who’d do that!”

“Does that really matter?” Ethan asked quietly.

“Yes. I’d like to know who was so careless, who didn’t even think to consult me first.”

The self-appointed town leader would expect to be shown such deference. Over the years people had helped fuel his huge ego by catering to him even as they accepted his advice and help in all sorts of civic and business matters. He’d always been extremely generous with his time and money, as long as no one challenged his autocratic streak. Lewis’s biggest weakness was his habit of holding grudges.

“Derek’s wife was her best friend….” Lewis scowled. “But she wouldn’t dare. Not after all I’ve done for Derek.”

Of course she’d dare! Ethan pressed his lips firmly to conceal a smile. Sarah Yates never deferred to her husband and had always stayed close with Kelsey. Small tidbits about Kelsey slipped out of her on occasion, confirming they were still in touch.

Ethan landed in a beige club chair near Lewis’s, regarding him with concern. “This stress can’t be good for you, Lew. You already had that one heart attack.”

The aged and fleshy chin lifted. “It was just a flutter.”

That wasn’t true at all. It had been fairly serious, and he had been hospitalized for several days while they’d run tests. “Whatever you call it, you’re not supposed to get too riled.”

This attempt at reason seemed to bounce off Lewis’s granite features, still trained on the fire. “Pity those old manslaughter charges didn’t stick. I sure wish there was a way of charging that girl now.”

The very idea made Ethan sick to his stomach. “There wasn’t enough evidence then, so it would be even harder today.”

“When I think how my critically injured boy managed to crawl round the car to reach her. It surely hastened his death. If only he’d stayed put. If only I’d gotten help there in time.”

It was that murky issue of time that had Ethan running the siren tonight. Just in case another Cutler life hung on a matter of minutes. But whatever Brad had done on his own in the end, it had been his choice, not Kelsey’s.

Lewis ponderously sipped some brandy. “Wonder what she wants. Exactly…”

Seemed obvious to Ethan. “To see her mother, I should think.”

“Do you really believe it’s that simple?”

“Yes…” Ethan’s voice trailed off as he stared at Lewis, wondering if there was something significant behind his wizened look. But what could it be? “I seriously doubt Kelsey has an ulterior motive,” he said more strongly. “She and Clare must miss each other terribly. A family of two, unless you count Clare’s brother, Teddy.”

“Who’s never counted for much,” Lewis grunted.

“There’s not a more gentle woman in town than Clare Graham. Their separation has to be painful, all those holidays apart.”

“At least when Clare talks to Kelsey, she gets an answer. No long-distance line has yet been invented to connect me with Brad.”

Ethan lowered his head. “I know you miss him. I do, too. I’ve tried my best to be there for you—in his place.”

“Of course you have. Why the minute I sized you up years back in that cheap Sunday suit, with a crummy haircut and first-class brain, I knew you were special. You’re the spare son Bailey and I longed for and you’ve never let us down once,” he assured. “However, that has nothing to do with my ongoing issue with the Grahams.”

“But it does for two obvious reasons. In my role as sheriff, it’s my duty to serve all citizens of Maple Junction equally, including the Grahams. And as a former next-door neighbor to the family, I’m fond of Clare. I know I’m asking a big favor, but I think it would be in everyone’s best interest for you to soft pedal your reaction to Kelsey’s visit.”

“Huh. I’m entitled to my opinion!”

“But your opinions carry so much more weight than most,” Ethan reasoned. “People will follow your lead on this without giving Kelsey a fair chance.”

“Now you’re saying I’m being unfair to her?”

“We haven’t discussed this situation in quite some time and I must admit I’m a bit surprised at how strong your ill feelings still are.”

“Well, I’m entitled. Give it some deeper thought.”

“I was going to suggest the same thing to you.” Ethan rose, went to set his empty glass back on the wet bar. “Guess I’ll be going. Try and get some rest.”

Lewis watched him anxiously. “How can I sleep without knowing what the Graham girl is really up to?”

Squaring his tense shoulders, Ethan turned back to him. “Trust me, it’s nothing.”

“She must have an agenda,” he persisted. “Everybody does. Do me a favor and dig into it a little.”

“What am I looking for?”

“Find out who invited her and when exactly she’s due back. Call everyone on that reunion committee if you have to.”

Ethan realized he wanted to know those things himself. A word with Sarah Yates would be sufficient. “All right, Lew. I’ll check into it and get back to you.”

“I’ll be waiting by the phone.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Gee, got any other whims that need immediate humoring?”

Lewis held out his empty glass to Ethan for another slug of brandy.

“SARAH! DON’T MOVE.”

“But I heard a car door slam.”

“I know. It’s Ethan.”

“So what?”

“Whisper, Sarah. Whisper.”

“So what?” she repeated under her breath.

Sarah watched her husband, Derek, ease into their bedroom and flatten his body against the closed door. He looked ridiculous. Sarah was curled up in a rocker near the crib. Watching the infant sleep by the light of the moon was Sarah’s favorite new pastime.

Derek wiped his forehead. “Whew! I closed the windows just in time.”

“In time for what?”

“To muffle Amy Joy’s cry. If she cries.”

“Oh, she’s gonna cry, the way he’s started to lean on that doorbell.”

Right on cue, Amy Joy twisted in her crib and let out a squeaky wail.

Derek abandoned his post at the door, snatched the baby off the little mattress and popped her into Sarah’s arms. “Feed her, honey.”

“She isn’t hungry, just mad that she has a crazy dad.”

“She can’t suspect that at two months old.”

“She already knows it at only seven weeks.”

“This isn’t funny. Please quiet her, Sare!”

With a gentle Madonna smile, Sarah tossed a hank of gold hair over her shoulder, opened her shirt and bra, and settled the baby in a suckling position at her breast. “Why are we acting like secret agents, and stupid ones at that?”

Derek’s eyes darted nervously in the shadows. “Because Ethan’s gotta be here about Kelsey.”

“You can’t be sure.”

“Oh no? The news about her coming home got out today. And since Amy Joy arrived, nobody generally bugs us this late anymore.”

“Is that all you have to go on?”

“My instincts tell me I’m right.”

Sarah wasn’t about to argue with his instincts. Born on the wrong side of the tracks to an abusive father and an overworked mother, Derek had been on the loose early, often one step ahead of the law due to the homemade rattletrap motorcycle he’d ridden without a license. For all intents and purposes, Derek was now a new man. Except for that lingering sense of smell that never failed to pick up trouble.

Derek’s features hardened. “He’s just gotta be here on behalf of a very hot Lewis, to get hard answers for the old coot.”

“About who to blame for Kelsey’s return?” she surmised.

“Bingo. He’s stopped ringing the bell….” He opened the bedroom door and stepped into the hallway. Then shut himself back in again with a soft oath. “He’s still out there. Waiting.”

“Ethan is too obliging to that old tyrant,” Sarah complained.

“Sure he is. But when it comes down to it, we can’t afford to anger Lewis either. He holds the title to my garage and has funneled so many regular customers my way.” Derek raked a hand through his shaggy black hair. “I can’t wait to own that place free and clear.”

It would be awhile yet, Sarah knew, even with her teaching kindergarten. “Maybe we should’ve waited to start a family.”

“No, honey, no. We waited long enough. Too long.”

A faint rap now replaced the ringing bell. She sighed, hoisting the baby onto her shoulder to pat out a burp. “I’m not sure we’re gaining anything by hiding like this.”

“We’re gaining time. Time for Lewis to settle down. Time for us to figure a logical reason for luring Kelsey back.” Derek dropped to one knee beside the rocker. Despite his miffed tone, there was no mistaking the adoring look he bestowed on his girls.

“I suppose I may have acted rashly, sending Kelsey that flyer without even telling you.”

He widened his eyes. “May have?”

“We do discuss important things first as a rule. But I can’t—won’t try to excuse this away with logic. I simply love her. She’s the best friend I ever had—ever could have. Too much time has already been wasted while we miss out on all the dreams we had together as children. If only I could go back and change the day she left on that Greyhound.”

“And do what?” Derek asked gently.

She rubbed her husband’s stubbled cheek, inhaling the smell of motor oil that always clung to him before a shower. There was no answer, of course. Any healing course of action had been up to the adults. Instead they’d chosen to railroad an eighteen-year-old girl.

“All that matters now is that I want her back. I need her back.”

“It’s only a class reunion, hon.”

“Maybe.”

“Sarah…” Derek sounded almost afraid then.

“She might stay. With some encouragement.”

He touched his baby’s downy head. “Please don’t expect too much. People change.”

“Funny, I was thinking how some things never change. How people hold grudges, never give second chances.”

“Sums up our man Cutler, all right. But please, don’t rile him too much.”

“He is being unreasonable.”

“He did lose his kid, Sarah.” He squeezed their baby’s tiny foot. “Something we’ve come to understand so much better in the past seven weeks.”

“Ah, there goes Ethan,” Sarah said suddenly, gazing out the side window just as the taillights of the squad car winked red on the street.

Derek took the sleeping baby and set her back in the crib. Then he put loving hands on his wife. “Come to bed with me.”

Her mouth curved. “You know Doc says we should wait another week before we have sex, because of all my stitches.”

He lifted her in his arms anyway, his voice growing husky. “I just want to hold you for a while. In the moonlight…”

Sarah understood. Sometimes, the town’s insecure ex-bad boy needed a reminder that she was totally his.

Spooned into him on the broad mattress, she was not surprised when his soft snores told her he’d drifted off. He’d been working extra hours at the garage lately with his lone employee, Richard, in an effort to be the big breadwinner, to give her the stay-at-home-mom option next autumn. It was silly, really. She had no qualms about leaving Amy Joy with her mother, Isabel, for a few hours each day while she went to work. Derek’s problem was that he’d watched his own mother drive herself into a frazzle in order to make ends meet. Their situation was nothing like that. She loved her job. It was the perfect part-time career, half days with summers off.

The conflict of interest with Lewis Cutler over Kelsey, however, was a far more troubling issue. It was bound to affect Ethan and Derek, who both enjoyed being close to the powerful man, but who also had connections to Kelsey.

It had all started for Ethan much earlier, invited through the Cutler front door as a toddler by Brad. Such an arrangement had been unthinkable for Derek back then, as his mother, Linda, had actually been a domestic at the class-conscious mansion. Derek hadn’t made the Cutler connection until years later on the high school’s prom night. Too poor to attend the prom himself, and not yet in Sarah’s romantic sights, Derek had spent the evening roaring round the countryside on his motorcycle. He’d happened upon Brad’s smashed Jetta, surveyed the casualties and raced over to the estate to alert Lewis. Even then he’d circled to the back door of the mansion.

Because of Derek, Lewis had managed a last word with his dying son. Suddenly, the class rebel, long taunted by the likes of Brad and so many others, had been in Lewis’s good graces. Lewis had shed a new positive light on Derek along Harvester Avenue, had referred to him as a spirited and scrappy lad who, Lewis had discovered, was a whiz at fixing stuff like toasters, lamps, radios and motorbikes—especially motorbikes. He’d got Derek a room in the widow Watson’s boardinghouse, had eventually arranged for Derek to buy the town’s only auto-repair shop from a retiring Mel Trumbull, using his position as officer at the bank to float Derek a very low-interest loan.

Another Maple Junction happy ending courtesy of fairy godfather Lewis, who’d turned the lone rebel into a respected car mechanic, simultaneously repaying the boy’s good deed and filling a vital job vacancy.

Sarah had eventually taken notice of Derek’s turnaround while home from UW–Madison one weekend. She’d gotten a flat tire on the way into town one Friday night and had called Maple’s only full-service garage. He’d fixed the tire and thrown in a tune-up. She’d taken him to lunch. After that, the favors had kept on flying. He’d changed her oil. She’d helped him shop for clothes. He’d fixed her parents’ leaky sink. She’d taken him to movies with more dialogue than explosions.

When she graduated, he’d presented her with a modest engagement ring. A no-frills elopement had soon followed, as had the purchase of their house, made possible by her unspent wedding fund and a generous gift from the Cutlers.

Sarah sighed against her pillow. Everything had been going so well for so long. But only because nobody ever crossed Lewis Cutler. She wouldn’t usually be doing it herself. But this was for Kelsey. Who, just like the rest of them, had a legitimate birthright here in Maple Junction.

Chapter Three

Ethan was edgy at the sheriff’s office the next morning, determined to track down Sarah for a quick, frank talk about Kelsey. Why hadn’t she answered the door last night? It would have been easy to find her two weeks ago when school was still in session. Despite the arrival of Amy Joy, Sarah had watched over her morning kindergarten class most days, relying on her aide to handle the get-up-and-go tasks. Occasionally, the baby had even hitched a ride along in her buggy. Things were like that in the small town, with obliging parents and staff wanting to make it easy for Sarah so she’d return next year.

It turned out all Ethan had to do was hit Harvester Avenue, where he spotted willowy Sarah sitting idle on a bench in front of the corner drugstore at Fifth Street, her hand gently rocking Amy Joy’s big springy buggy.