of her voice told him how much she hadn’t liked the way her ex-husband had treated her, but she was able to inject some humor into it. Jed had lavished himself with luxurious items and forced her to cut corners. Was that why material things were important to her? No one was going to stop her from doing what she wanted now? From spending money the way she wanted to? He liked the hint of rebellion in her. Innocent rebellion. She could have decided to run a key down the side of her ex’s car, but instead she treated herself to shopping sprees. Bo had told him she’d come to town with money, her ex-husband’s money. Her money now.
The waitress returned with the coffee and water. He put down his pen to sip, seeing Gemma do the same.
“Bo said Jed followed you here.”
She lowered her glass and answered solemnly, “Yes.”
“Where did he come from?”
“Casper, Wyoming.” She provided an address, putting her elbows on the table.
“How long were you married?”
“Not long. Three years.”
“Did he beat you before this incident?”
“Yes. It started around the first year of our marriage. By the end of that last year it got really bad. At first he didn’t get physical very often and he always apologized. I think he genuinely was sorry and just couldn’t help himself, you know? It gradually got worse.” She shook her head in disgust and slipped her hands down to her lap. “This time was worse than ever, though. I had never required a doctor until now.”
“How did he find you? Did you tell him where you were going?”
“No. No way. I don’t know … he probably found out through my old job.” She rubbed her hands on her pants, which fitted her body perfectly, he recalled.
“We’ll get a restraining order going, and I’ll arrange for some scheduled patrols to watch your house.”
Smiling her appreciation, she stopped nervously rubbing her pants. Her smile derailed his train of thought again.
“Samuel said you would,” she said, snapping him out of his trance.
“Really? He said I would?”
“No, I mean he said the police would.”
The fondness in her voice didn’t go unnoticed. “How did he find out?”
“I don’t know. He came to the hospital to see how I was doing. He was very nice.”
That’s what he wanted everyone to believe. But Grayson was anything but nice.
Ford was onto Grayson and his cult. Only the FBI team sent to investigate him knew how much attention he was giving to five murders and the mysterious disappearances of people who once lived here. They’d all occurred after Grayson had arrived. He was very good at escaping incrimination. He had a network of henchmen and followers and never left any trails. In order for Bo to protect Samuel, he needed Ford, a figure of law-abiding goodness in the department.
Ford would let him keep thinking he could use him like that. So far it had worked in his favor. He wouldn’t tell Gemma anything she could reveal to either Bo or Samuel that would jeopardize that. But there was one thing he meant to find out from her.
Taking the bill from the waitress, he gave it back to her with his debit card.
“Are you close to Samuel Grayson?” he asked Gemma.
“I wouldn’t say close. He’s shown me a lot of kindness and I love what he does for this town. And for me.”
“What has he done for you?”
Taking a moment to think, she finally said, “Made me feel stronger. And safe.” Her fond expression warmed even more. “He sent me you.”
Ford withheld a sarcastic remark. Samuel ran the town, and as long as no one crossed him no one disappeared. There was nothing to love about him or his motives. He was good at fooling people. Especially newcomers. And vulnerable women like Gemma.
“You attend his seminars on a regular basis?” he asked.
Once again, her megawatt smile threw him off balance. “Oh, yes! They’re so wonderful. Samuel is such a great speaker. He’s helped me heal after all I’ve gone through. I don’t know what I would have done without him, without the seminars. They’re exactly what I need right now.”
He smiled back, wishing she was praising anything other than Grayson and those mind-warping seminars.
“Samuel is an incredible man. He’s a visionary. Inspirational, and … a real beacon of hope.”
Ford could believe that, given her history of abuse. Any kind of encouragement would soak into her like water into a paper towel.
“Have you gone to any of them?” she asked, still dreamy-eyed.
He couldn’t stop a cynical chuckle. The idea of going to any of the sessions was comical. “No.”
At the sound of his bold voice, she angled her head and a coy look entered her eyes. “Would it threaten your manhood?”
“No.” He shook his head. Not even close.
“Then why don’t you go?”
“I don’t need them,” he answered simply.
His reply only seemed to feed her coyness, which he was reluctant to call infatuation. “You’re already the best man you can be?”
“If that’s the way you want to look at it, yes.”
“I like a man who’s sure of himself.”
He liked a woman who smiled the way she did. He looked at her straight white teeth and the light of happiness sparkling in her beautiful eyes. After all she’d been through, she still had a sunny side. And a strong side, too. He doubted those seminars had anything to do with that. It was natural, something that had already been there, had been awakened with a little encouragement. She met his gaze and they fell into a long stare that he began to feel too much.
The waitress returned with his card and receipt and he was glad to add the tip and be done with this.
Standing, he tucked the pen and notebook into his shirt pocket. “That’s enough for now. I’ll call you if anything comes up.”
“Okay.” She seemed awkward now, as if she’d noticed the change in him.
She led him out the front door and he helped her to her car in the community-center parking lot.
“Are you okay to drive?” he asked.
“Oh, yes. I’m better now, other than a few cuts and bruises.”
He nodded once and handed her his business card. “Just in case.”
She smiled, but not as brightly as before, and took the card. “Thanks.” He wondered if she was disappointed because she thought he wasn’t interested. He was, and that was the problem. Not only was he on duty, falling in love wasn’t his thing. Not that he’d fall in love with Gemma. He didn’t even welcome the possibility to present itself. Maybe when he was older … years from now. One round of that was enough to keep him casual for a while, and Gemma didn’t strike him as the casual type.
As he watched her drive away, he noticed a boy sitting on a motorcycle who looked familiar. He was parked in a space that was partially concealed by a tree and shrubs and seemed to be watching the entrance to the center. Tall and lean, he wore a helmet that hid shaggy black hair and a Ryan Gosling face.
Ford followed his look and saw Grayson emerge with a couple in their early fifties. Mr. and Mrs. Monroe. Two of Grayson’s Devotees? Curtis Monroe seemed to be. His wife appeared rather bored.
Looking back at the boy, he finally placed him. Dillon was the couple’s teenaged son. The boy spotted him and started the motorcycle,