Jenna Night - Justice At Morgan Mesa

Vanessa took a deep breath and squeezed the steering wheel as tight as she could before releasing it. It was a tension-relieving technique she’d learned years ago and at the moment it was helping a little.

She understood the concern behind Rosa’s offer, but having her loved ones hover just made her feel more anxious. Of course she was afraid. Every time she’d glanced at the truck’s mirrors on the drive over she’d seen the dark purple bruises. A reminder that if Levi hadn’t shown up when he had, her night could have had a far worse ending.

But she was determined not to let fear paralyze her. She’d seen what had happened to her mother after her father’s death. And again, after her mom had married a man whose attitude and behavior were poisonous.

Vanessa did pro bono legal work for women living in a shelter in Las Vegas. And as so often happens, in helping others she’d received more than she’d given away. Among other things, she’d heard counselors talk to the women about being cautious and safe, but also about doing their best to not let anxiety torment them and create a stronghold in their minds.

Vanessa was not going to let some idiot with a hammer torment her. She was not going to let some violent jerk control her the way her stepfather had controlled her mother.

She would be cautious. Smart. Reasonable.

“I’ll be fine,” she said to Rosa, managing to keep her tone light and easy. “I’m going to the accountant’s office and then by the library. And the police station is smack in the middle of town so it’s close to both places. Everything will be fine. Now, you get in there and learn something about the exciting world of online reservations processing.”

Rosa hesitated for a few seconds before finally nodding in agreement and exiting.

Vanessa steered the truck back onto the road, drove a couple of blocks over and found an open spot where she could park on the street directly in front of the public library. She cut the engine and sent her grandpa a text, as promised, on the phone Pablo had lent her, letting him know she had arrived safely.

And then, sitting alone in the truck, she realized she didn’t feel quite as brave as she had a few minutes ago. But she couldn’t just sit there. She turned in her seat and took a look through the windows all around the truck before she opened the door, just in case someone was there waiting to jump her. A trio of cars slowly drove by and she found herself closely watching them, heart in her throat, half expecting to see that nutjob from the mesa with his hat pulled down low and a bandanna over the bottom of his face riding inside one of them.

Of course, that was not the case. They were just normal people going about their business in a small western town in Nevada. Nothing threatening about that.

So much for willing herself to be calm and fearless.

Dear Lord, I pray for Your presence and protection and I thank You for it.

Why was prayer so often the last thing she thought of for comfort when it should have been the first?

Pondering that, she crossed the street heading for the accountant’s office. Hopefully, talking about numbers would take her thoughts off her other worries for the next hour or so.

Her grandparents and the Sandovals were not wealthy people, but they’d been willing to take a chance and invest their retirement savings in the guest ranch because all of them wanted to live and work in the horse-friendly kind of setting they loved. When they discovered they didn’t have enough money to buy the property they’d chosen and pay for all the repairs and renovations they’d need to convert the operation and pay the bills until the business started to turn a profit, Vanessa had contributed her own money to the venture.

And they’d promptly assigned her as the person to deal with the accountant because none of them wanted to do it. But she hadn’t minded. A genuine smile crossed her lips as she thought of how blessed she was to have such good and loving people in her life. She would think of them every time the image of that hammer-swinging stalker up on the mesa tried to worm its way back into her mind.

Vanessa had an awkward first few moments with the accountant as she explained the bruises on her face and what had happened to her. Fortunately, after checking to make sure she was all right and didn’t need to postpone their discussion, the accountant followed her lead and they quickly redirected the topic to the financial issues concerning the ranch. After an hour and a half of talking numbers, Vanessa was finished and she headed back across the street to the library for the next item on her list of tasks.

This wasn’t for the ranch, but for her research into her father’s murder. There were many articles about the case, but they yielded frustratingly few details. Vanessa pored over them carefully, hoping to find some detail previously missed or ignored, but her hope dwindled as the hours passed.

Later, when Vanessa stepped out of the library, she gazed out at the dusky horizon to the east. She should have left sooner. But she’d gotten so caught up in old newspapers that she hadn’t realized how late it was until a librarian told her they needed to close. She texted Rosa to tell her she was on her way. Rosa replied that she, too, had gotten caught up in what she was learning and had also lost track of time. She would be waiting outside the tech coach’s office for Vanessa to pick her up.

Vanessa had printed a few articles at the library and now held the pages in the crook of her arm. Current editions of the Torchlight Beacon newspaper were available online, but older editions were not. There were no digitized archives she could access and she’d had to do her research the old-fashioned way by looking at spools of film at the library. At least the clunky old last-millennium viewing machine she’d had to use was connected to a printer.

She started down the steps to the sidewalk and spotted a familiar figure in a dark blue police uniform standing by her grandfather’s truck. She glanced around to make sure she hadn’t missed a no-parking sign. “Don’t tell me you’re giving me a ticket,” she said to Levi as she walked up to him.

He responded with a half smile and Vanessa’s heartbeat sped up a little. Then he shook his head. “No ticket. I just thought I’d hang around until you came out of the library to see how you’re doing. And also thank you for sending me the information I’d asked for.”

“So you’re following me now?” she teased him a little, hoping to see that fleeting bit of a smile again. Most of the time, he looked so serious and professional. Which was fine for a police officer. But that hint of a smile threw something boyish into his appearance. And Vanessa wanted to see it again.

“I didn’t have to follow you. I was in the neighborhood.” He hooked a thumb toward the police department headquarters on the opposite side of the street the next block down. “The truck you’re driving is distinctive. I noticed it when I was at the ranch.”

The right front fender of grandpa’s truck was canary yellow while the rest of it was sky blue. “I came out to grab something for dinner and spotted it. I went inside the library to see if you were the driver. You looked pretty engrossed in what you were doing. I didn’t want to disturb you, and I knew you’d be out soon since it was just about closing time. So, here I am.”

He’d been waiting for her. She felt like smiling but didn’t let it show.

The tickling sensation in her stomach had to be part of the emotional aftereffects from the attack last night. Vanessa Ford did not get giddy over men she barely knew.

“Well, I’m fine,” she said, her voice coming out a little higher pitched than normal. “Is there anything else you wanted to talk to me about?”