Mountain Danger by Vanessa Vale
Author:Vanessa Vale [Vale, Vanessa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Vanessa Vale
8
EVE
* * *
I grabbed my coffee, took a sip of the dark brew. Nix knew how I liked it with just a splash of milk. Swiveling my chair, I turned to my computer, looked up Finch Anderson in the database. His data came up. It confirmed his address, age and DMV records for his truck, snowmobile. I pushed a few more buttons and ran a criminal history. With high-tech speed, there was his arrest.
Oh shit. Assault.
I glanced up when the chief came in, but didnât pay him any attention beyond a quick hello. How could I when the guy Iâd spent the weekend with, the guy whoâd handcuffed me to the bed and made me come on his face, had spent three months in jail for assault?
I pushed my chair back, fumbled for my cell in my purse and stood.
âBe right back,â I said to Nix but didnât look his way as I walked off. I found an empty interrogation room, shut the door and leaned against it.
I took a deep breath, then dialed Finch.
âHey, sugar.â
âYou went to jail for assault and didnât tell me?â
There was a pause.
âThat was a long time ago.â
âSo?â I snapped. I began to pace in the small room.
âDid you read the full report?â
âI got caught on the word âassault,ââ I replied.
âWould you like to hear the full story?â The music that had been in the background cut off. I pictured him in his cowboy hat working in his barn or stable. Fixing his snowmobile. Tossing hay. Maybe he was in his truck.
I sighed, tucked my hair behind my ear. âYes, of course.â
âIt was the year after high school. A friend of mine, Shelly Montez, was being harassed by a guy. Weâd gone through school together. We werenât close or anything, just hung out some. But there are only so many places to hang out in Cutthroat, especially if youâre not old enough to drink.â
Whoever used the room last hadnât pushed in the chairs, and I walked around the table and slid them into place absently as I listened.
âThat didnât mean we didnât drink, but we couldnât do it in the bars. So we went to peopleâs barns. The back forty of someoneâs property. Trailheads. Wherever. That time, we were at the Cutthroat lake. A guy was into Shelly, putting the moves on pretty hard. She said no. He didnât like it and grabbed her to go with him. I stepped in and we fought. I won the fight, and Shelly left with her friends. The next day Iâm charged with assault. The guy was a Richie Rich from Cutthroat Mountain, and his daddy was pissed.â
âYouâre not exactly the poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks. You have a big chunk of land. Iâd say your family has some money.â
âThatâs land, not cold, hard cash. Thereâs no comparison between a trust fund and acreage. I went to jail for three months.â
Anger and helplessness settled over me like a heavy blanket. I could only imagine
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