Free Broken Places by Sandra Parshall Page B

coat, and took her home with him.
    “You gave her a long, happy life.” Rachel handed back the picture. She waited until he’d put it away before she said, “Ben, you didn’t come over here to talk about our youthful adventure as cat thieves.”
    He leaned forward, gripping his head with both hands. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this. You and Holly both. That scene this morning, then finding Taylor’s car—“
    “I’m fine,” Rachel said. “And Holly’s going to be fine too.”
    “Well, thank god for that, anyway.” His face knotted with anxiety, he met her eyes and blurted, “There was a witness. They’ve probably found her by now. Christ, I’m screwed. I’ve got a lawyer coming down from New York, but she can’t get here until tomorrow. I’ll be lucky if I’m not arrested before then.”
    Rachel felt as if she’d stepped off solid ground into quicksand. She pushed out her words. “A witness to what?”
    Ben’s eyes widened when he saw her face. “Aw, shit. What the hell are you thinking? I thought you were the one person I could count on.”
    “A witness to what, Ben?”
    He rose, pivoted away and began pacing again, his fists shoved into his jeans pockets. “Taylor stopped on the road and got out and wouldn’t let me pass. We got into an argument, and a woman drove up while we were shouting at each other. She probably heard some of it. I can imagine what your friend Captain Bridger will make of that.” He stopped and looked at Rachel. “Can you find out if he’s talked to her? Can you get me her name?”
    A nasty shiver moved down Rachel’s spine. “Her name? Why? Ben, what are you planning to do?”
    “Aw, for fuck’s sake. I’m not going to do anything. I just want to know what I’m up against.”
    “I can’t get information out of the police to pass on to you.” Rachel realized she was digging her nails into her palms, and she opened her hands and spread them on her knees. “I shouldn’t even be talking to you about this, since I’m a witness too.”
    “Yeah, I figured you were the one who told Bridger what happened at the house this morning.”
    “I didn’t have a choice. I just told the truth.”
    “Do you believe I killed Cam Taylor? And his wife too? If you think I’m that crazy, I want to know.”
    In his eyes Rachel saw anger mixed with fear, confusion, and a desperate need for reassurance. “No,” she said, and meant it. “But I’m worried about the way you’ve been acting. Have you stopped taking your meds?”
    He let out a breath, his shoulders slumping. Dropping onto the couch again, he said, “No. I haven’t stopped taking the damned drug.”
    Rachel wasn’t sure she believed him. “I know you don’t feel as creative when you’re on it, but that incident in New York should have convinced you that you can’t go without it.”
    “I said I haven’t stopped taking it, and that’s the truth.” Rachel expected him to blow up at her, but instead he gave her a speculative look and asked, “Are you going to tell your boyfriend what happened in New York if he asks you if I have any history of violent behavior?”
    “I don’t think that one incident adds up to a history of violent behavior.”
    “Bridger might think it does. It’s just the kind of thing the cops would pounce on if they want to make a case against somebody.”
    “Yeah,” Rachel said with some reluctance. “You’re probably right about that, but isn’t it better to be upfront about it? So it won’t look as if you have some terrible secret to hide?”
    “There’s something you don’t know.” Ben rubbed his temples. “Cam Taylor found out what happened in New York, and he knew I made a settlement to avoid criminal charges. He knew that in my position—drawing the strip, doing books for kids, working with animal groups—I could be hurt pretty badly if I looked like a hotheaded bully who attacks people then pays them off. Taylor wanted me to pay him off to keep quiet about