Small Town Justice(34)

A weak moan snapped him out of battle mode. He automatically set the safety as he slipped the gun back into its holster and returned to Jamie Lynn.

She had managed to swing her legs over the side of the bed and sit up. Tears streaked her face. She was gasping out ragged sobs and trying to talk.

“Sh-Shane... Oh, Shane.”

He took a step closer and held out his hand, wondering how he could best comfort her after such a frightening ordeal. Any worries he’d had about the possibility she wouldn’t want to be touched were banished in the instant it took her to throw herself into his arms.

Instinct took over. He pulled her closer, one hand on her back, the other stroking her hair, and said, “It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe. You’re safe. He’s gone.”

Despite those assurances, Jamie continued to cling to him, even when a crowd began to gather outside the room.

The manager pushed through. “What happened?”

“She was attacked.”

“He come in through the busted window?”

“No,” Shane said, “that was me. Apparently, he was already in the room waiting for her.”

“That’s impossible.”

Jamie’s hold tightened, and he returned the hug to further comfort and support her. “It happened. I saw it.”

“Well, I phoned the police so they’ll be here shortly. What became of the guy?”

“He ran off,” Shane told her.

“Good riddance to bad rubbish,” the manager said. “You get a look at his face?”

“No.”

That denial was true as far as it went. He had not seen the attacker’s features except for his eyes, and those were shaded by both the hood of the sweatshirt and the knitted mask he wore. However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t identify the person using other clues. Height, build, calloused hands, the odor of diesel fuel and an antisocial attitude all pointed to Roger, one of the Lamont brothers, although it could just as easily have been Dougie. It was handy knowing everyone in town.

Something in Shane’s posture must have changed without his knowledge because Jamie Lynn eased her hold, leaned back and looked directly into his eyes.

“You know him, don’t you?” she whispered.

He cupped the back of her head and gently urged her to lay it against his shoulder once again. “Hush.”

“But...”

“Not now,” he told her quietly. “We’ll discuss this later.”

He felt her slowly relaxing, trusting him, agreeing via body language to do things his way this time. That was a big breakthrough. It also meant that he had just vowed to become as caught up in her quest as his mother was.

If he had not been embracing Jamie in full view of the motel manager and half the guests, he might have pushed her away and insisted that he did not mean to become involved.

To his chagrin, he realized he might also have reacted the opposite way and kissed her. Of the two options, the latter seemed by far the most appealing. And just as dangerous, in its own way, as chasing criminals.

* * *

“No. Absolutely not. I am not going to stay with Marsha and Otis. Not tonight, not ever.” Jamie Lynn had stopped shaking and, other than a doozy of a sinus headache brought on by too much weeping, she felt strong enough to cope with accepting another room at the same motel.

“You heard the police. Harlan said the same thing. You shouldn’t stay anywhere alone.”

“Well, I’m certainly not going to bring my problems to your mother.”

Watching his expression shift and his cheeks warm, she almost laughed out loud when he said, “You can’t stay with me. Not if you want to protect your reputation.”

She smiled and huffed. “My reputation? You mean yours, don’t you?” Waving her hands in front of her as if wiping away the comment, she added, “I would never consider putting Kyle in danger, either. He’s a darling.” And his daddy’s not so bad, either.

“Then what do you propose to do?”

“I don’t know. I suppose I could slug a cop, get myself arrested and spend the night in jail, but that would mean I couldn’t keep Useless with me. By the way, he’s the one who defended me before you got here. You should have heard him growling.”

It startled her when Shane balled a fist and smacked it into the palm of his opposite hand. “That’s it. That’s our answer—or part of it.”

“How so?”

“The bite mark. That’s where we’ll start. If one of the Lamont brothers has a sore hand from where Useless bit him, that should be enough to convince Harlan to haul them both in.”

“When?” Jamie asked, hoping he was planning to see the sheriff immediately.