While he waited for dispatch to retrieve the information, he turned his attention back to Nicole. “Tell me about the warning you received tonight.”
She took a deep breath and shifted to face him. “He left a big knife—a foot long and like the ones I know he uses for hunting. He stabbed it into a picture of me on my countertop made of butcher block. No written message. Just that horrible, horrible terrifying visual message while Emilie was sleeping in the next room. I panicked. Packed our bags, grabbed Emilie and fled.” She flashed her gaze filled with shock and disbelief up to his.
Whatever had happened had affected her deeply. Despite his desire to remain impartial, his protective instinct rose up. He tried to tamp it down. It was awful early in their conversation to believe she needed protection of any sort, but even a hint of a woman in physical danger riled him to no end, and he couldn’t just push it away.
“Did you call the police?” he asked.
She shook her head and lifted her chin in a defiant tilt. “What good would it do? I called so many times in the past, and they didn’t help. His name is Grady Harmon. He’s a police officer, and by the time his fellow cops show up, he’s long gone, and they don’t believe me.”
Say what? The guy was a law enforcement officer? That put a different spin on things.
Matt didn’t automatically assume all cops were good people. They weren’t, just like anyone in any other profession, but whether or not he was good, officers initially took the side of one of their brothers until facts proved otherwise. Might not be the right response, but they needed to depend on their fellow officers having their backs. Sometimes they took it too far, though, and protected their own when they didn’t deserve it.
She sighed. “You’d think they’d realize I had to have proof of his actions to get the restraining order, but they don’t seem to take that into account.”
“I’m not saying you don’t have proof, but I do know that judges these days will most always side with the victim. Officers know this and can be skeptical.”
“You, too, I see.” Her eyes darkened to the shade of a new pair of Wranglers, and she glared at him.
Even with her tense expression, she touched something inside him, and he wanted to help her. “I’m not saying they’re right or wrong. I’m just saying the burden of proof for a restraining order is lighter than most legal proceedings.”
“He really has been stalking me.” She raised her shoulders into a hard line. “I don’t lie. It goes against my Christian beliefs.”
She was a Christian. Of course, anyone could claim to be a believer. And believers lied at times, too. Matt knew that from his job. People lied to officers all the time. People he saw in church on Sunday.
Sure, he wanted to take her word at face value—wanted to believe her, but even if he wanted to, he couldn’t. He was a deputy, and that meant checking facts and living by those facts. Not the word of a woman who piqued his interest. Actually, just the opposite.
Because he was attracted to her, he would do even more digging before buying into her story. Still, she could be assured if there was any hint of danger, he’d step up and make sure they were safe. No way he’d leave them to the mercies of a dangerous stalker. No way.
Nicole had never grilled a steak, but she felt like a burnt and crispy slab of meat after this deputy’s many questions. He stood there staring at her. Matt McKade, he’d said. One hand on a trim waist. One resting on the butt of his gun. A power play? Maybe. Or was he used to relaxing his hand that way? Grady had often done that.
Still, when Matt glanced at Emilie, she caught a hint of compassion in eyes that had burrowed right through her. To be fair to him, she had broken the law, but she had no choice. Okay fine, she might have stayed in the car, but it was just too cold for Emilie, and Nicole wasn’t prepared with warm blankets. She’d searched for nearby houses with lights on, but she’d seen nothing. Then she spotted the Trails End dude ranch sign and the line of empty rental cabins. For her daughter’s sake, she’d wiggled the window hard until the catch gave way and she could creep inside. As she told the deputy, she felt bad for doing so and never would have broken in if Emilie’s life wasn’t in jeopardy. She wouldn’t apologize or defend herself again. Either this guy believed her, or he didn’t. She’d just have to wait for his verdict.
He jerked his head away and shook it. Why, she had no idea.
“Back to when you reported violations of the restraining order,” he suddenly said. “Are you getting a lack of cooperation from everyone in the department?”
She took a breath and warned herself to be patient and not snap at him when he was just doing his job. “I’ve only interacted with the responding officers. I have no idea who else in his department even knows about this.”
Emilie stirred in Nicole’s arms. Guilt was eating at Nicole for putting her child in this precarious situation, so she started rocking to keep her daughter from waking. How could she have done this to Emilie? Tears burned the back of Nicole’s eyes, but she fought hard against them. Emilie needed her to stay strong and fix this, not blubber like a baby.
She met Matt’s gaze, and even when his eyes held a challenge, she didn’t look away. “One thing I do know is I can’t count on the police. I have to take care of myself and Emilie. I’ve heard stories about women dying at the hands of their stalkers. I won’t let that happen to me or my child.”
He ground his teeth for a moment. “You’re right, it does happen. Catching a stalker can often take a long time. That’s even truer of an officer. Like you said, he knows how the system works and can game it.”
“Exactly.” Hope blossomed that he might believe her.
He glanced at Emilie. “How old is your daughter?”
“She just turned three. I was eight months pregnant with her when my husband, Troy, died. His motorcycle was hit by a car.”
The deputy suddenly pressed his finger against his earbud and tipped his head as if listening. “I’m away from my computer and need a physical description from the DL.”
Nicole assumed he meant “driver’s license,” as that was the only thing the police would have with her physical description.
He ran his gaze over her from head to toe, lingering for a long time on her face, before he stared over her shoulder.
Was he checking to see if she matched that description? Likely. She didn’t like that he wouldn’t take her word on her ID, but she also knew from her time with Grady that people frequently lied to law enforcement officers, and with their very lives at stake all the time, they couldn’t be too cautious.
“And the RO in effect?” He listened to the answer, his forehead narrowing. “Any crimes involved causing an action to be taken on behalf of the RO?”
He might be speaking law enforcement lingo, but she got that he was asking if Grady had violated the restraining order. The deputy wouldn’t ask if he believed her, but so what? They would tell him about the number of times she’d called, and he’d know she was telling the truth.
“Pull up Harmon’s DMV details and email them to me.” He released his finger, and his narrowed gaze landed on her again.
“Are you convinced of my identity?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said. “And I’ve also confirmed the restraining order, but there’s no record of Harmon violating it or the police response.”
“What?”