A Moment Too Late

by Rachael Brownell

His eyes were on me.

  Mine on him.

  And I knew in that moment that I could never have him. I wouldn’t do that to Sam because I’d be devastated if someone did that to me. Love at first sight or not. It didn’t matter that I had already given him a piece of my heart.

  Hoes before bros.

  Sam was my hoe.

  That sounds horrible. Referring to her as a hoe, especially since she’s gone now.

  Shaking away the memories as I climb out of bed, I head into the bathroom and turn the shower on. I’m getting an early start today so I can work on the profile. My alarm went off at six o’clock, but I’ve been laying in bed, snuggled under the covers for the last thirty minutes.

  Once steam begins to billow out from behind the curtain, I slip out of my yoga pants and pull my tank top over my head, folding both and putting them in my suitcase. I’m about to step out of my underwear when there’s a knock at my door.

  I freeze, my underwear resting just below my butt cheeks.

  Who the hell is knocking on my door this early in the morning and why?

  Another knock.

  I can’t very well ignore it.

  Pulling my underwear back on, I let out a sigh as I walk over and answer the door after a third set of knocks sound.

  “Yeah?” I ask, raising my voice so they can hear me through the older wooden door. Judging by the age of the B&B and the historic feel to the decor, the door is more than likely solid wood.

  “I come bearing gifts,” I hear Jay say as the handle begins to turn.

  “Wait!” I scream and dart for the bathroom, slamming the door behind me.

  “Did I catch you at a bad time?” His voice is muffled by the bathroom door as I hear him moving around the room.

  Cracking the door open and peeking my head out, the strong aroma of coffee hits me. “Java Bean?” I ask when he looks in my direction.

  “Are you naked?” His voice is low, almost a growl as he stares at me. The only parts of my body that are visible are my head and my shoulder, my hair falling in long waves, cascading over my shoulder as I use the door to shield the rest of my nakedness.

  “I’m about to get in the shower. Why are you bringing me coffee so early? Don’t you like sleep?” My attempt to change the subject fails as his eyes bore into me from across the room.

  “Are. You. Naked?”

  “Of course I’m naked. I don’t shower in my clothes.” He takes a step toward the bathroom, but I stop him with the shake of my head. “Don’t. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

  “I’ve waited for you for seven years, Drea. I can wait a few more minutes.” His eyes never leave mine as he steps back, setting the tray of coffee on the table next to the bed.

  “Oh yeah?” I laugh. “And what? I’m just going to throw myself at you after I shower? That doesn’t happen in real life, Jay.”

  “No, but I’m guessing you didn’t bring any clothes in there with you since you weren’t expecting company.”

  Shit.

  Glaring at Jay for a long second before shutting and locking the bathroom door, I pull my hair into a tight bun on top of my head and step under the scalding spray. I’m still cursing him under my breath as I shut the water off and wrap a towel around my body.

  True to his word, Jay is waiting for me when I walk back into the room. He looks relaxed sitting up on the bed with his back to the headboard. He’s staring down at his phone but looks up when I clear my throat.

  “Gorgeous,” he states, tossing his phone aside and sliding off the bed.

  “Stay where you are.” Holding out my hand in a stop motion, Jay stays seated on the edge of the bed while I stare him down. “I don’t remember you being this dangerous.”

  “Tempting,” he counters.

  “What?”

  “I think you meant to say tempting. And yes, you do remember me being this tempting. In fact, I remember one incident in particular where I’m pretty sure you were caught drooling.”

  Rolling my eyes at the memory, I don’t bother to reply. Instead, I grab clean clothes, careful to keep my towel wrapped around me as tight as possible, and head back into the still steamy bathroom to dress before I fall for Jay’s charm and throw myself at him. The idea has crossed my mind no less than a dozen times since I heard his voice on the other side of the door.

  Especially after I got a good look at him. Dark wash jeans and a black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was fresh out of the shower, his hair still damp. The stubble that had graced his handsome face last night was gone.

  Jay’s relaxing on my bed again when I emerge fully dressed and ready for the day. Black slacks. Black and white pinstriped blouse that dips low into a V. The same outfit I wore to my grandmother’s funeral last year.

  Jay doesn’t seem disappointed in what he sees. There’s a smirk on his face that is attempting to melt my heart and almost does when his damn dimple makes an appearance. I keep my stance strong under his gaze, even when I feel the moisture beginning to pool in my panties.

  “Ready?” he asks.

  “For what?”

  There are a few things I’m ready for. None of them are appropriate to share out loud. All of them would cause more problems. Only one would bring me temporary joy and relief. It wouldn’t last, though. The feeling would fade, and the guilt would creep back in.

  “I brought breakfast so we could work on the profile. I figured I would offer my services since I know the case about as well as anyone except Spencer.”

  Breakfast. That I can handle, right? It’s just food.

  “Maybe I should ask Spence for help then.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I don’t miss the way his eyes flick to my low neckline before quickly returning to my face.

  “His vision is clouded by now. He’s seen those files a thousand times. It’s been a few years since I’ve looked at them until last night.”

  “How does a guy who loves computers and studies IT end up going to the police academy by the way?” I inquire, images of disassembled computers scattered around Jay’s bedroom filling my memory. He was always tinkering with something. Taking it apart and putting it back together. Making it faster, better than it was before.

  “The rug was pulled out from beneath him when he graduated. His temper flared when he’s questioned for the murder of his girlfriend. But the final straw was when no one would give him any answers. I stayed, you know. For months. I was here, waiting for them to find whoever killed Sam. When they couldn’t, and Spencer decided to join the academy, I followed.”

  I can hear the frustration and anger in his voice. Even if I couldn’t, the way he’s clenching his fists would have been a clear indication of how infuriating of a time it was for him. I can’t imagine what he went through.

  Everyone stayed but me. I ran from this place as if my life depended on it. The farther I ran, the less my heart ached. The intense pressure in my chest lifted, but it was only temporary. Not even a week after I returned home, I fell apart completely. I was alone and empty. The one person I wanted to call, the one person who would be able to talk me through the tough time, was the one person I couldn’t.

  “And now?” I ask. I need to stay focused on the conversation or the past will overwhelm me. I’ll be right back to the person I was when I left here last time. Lost and alone.

  “Now I work for the government.”

  “Care to elaborate?” My body begins to move toward him as if it’s being pulled by an invisible rope. Scratch that. A magnet. I’ve always thought Jay was magnetic. The pull he has on me feels charged.

  “Not at the moment. Look, I want to try and help you. If nothing else, I’ll be your sounding board,” he offers, handing me a cup of coffee.

  “That’s not exactly how I work things out but I’m guessing you have no intention of going anywhere.” Raising my eyebrow at him in question as I take a sip of my coffee, I don’t miss the slight shake of his head.

  “Not until it’s time for the memorial
brunch.”

  Agreeing with a nod, I gather up all the files and we spread out on the bed, working in silence for a little while. It’s almost time for us to leave when Jay starts frantically searching through everything.

  “What are you doing?”

  “The crime scene pictures. Where did you put them?”

  Looking at the piles of pictures and papers around me, I finally spot the photos he’s talking about and hand them to him.

  “This,” he says, tapping the photo with his finger. “This is what we’re missing.”

  Leaning in and looking over his shoulder, I search the photo for any clue as to what Jay is referring to.

  “I don’t see anything.”

  “That’s exactly the point. No footprints. It was rainy the night she was murdered. That’s part of the reason there wasn’t any DNA. We’re also positive he wore gloves. But footprints don’t wash away. Sam was in the grass. There should have been some breaks in the grass. A fresh indent.”

  “It’s not like you can erase footprints,” I point out.

  Raising my eyebrow at Jay, he explains his theory. We already know Sam was attacked on the sidewalk. There was blood spatter found on the concrete. Her attacker then carried her into a secluded area of the park surrounded by shrubs where he tied her up and left her to die. He would have had to walk through a small, grassy area off the path to dump Sam’s body where he had, just out of sight.

  Jay thinks he walked all around the area to flatten the grass so his footprints wouldn’t have been visible to the naked eye. And with Sam in his arms, the extra weigh would have made it easy for him to walk across the grass light enough on his way out.

  “It’s a good theory,” I compliment Jay. “So, it’s someone who’s strong enough to carry Sam a decent distance, and also carry a bag with the rope and tape in it.”

  “Did you notice the rope wasn’t cut?” he asks, pointing at a different photo.

  Taking the picture off the top of the pile, I study the rope for a few minutes, focusing on the ends, before setting it back down. The ends appear sealed with glue. There are no fraying marks.

  “So, he bought the length he needed.” It comes out sounding like a statement instead of a question. I have no idea where he’s going with this theory, but I want him to get there faster. We’re running out of time.

  “Which is hard to do. Apollo Hardware only sold one length of this kind of rope back then. Nylon rope is used for anchoring boats. The rope we sold was matched to the depth of the deepest lake in the area. This one is not nearly that long, which means—”

  “He bought the rope somewhere else,” I interrupt, grabbing the list of people interviewed.

  “Exactly.”

  “So, are we looking for someone from town who was aware of this or a visitor?” My fingers quickly scan down the list of individuals who were initially interviewed.

  “I think your’ initial profile is correct. It’s someone from here. Someone who knew Sam and her habits. That was a path she traveled all the time. I feel like someone was watching and waiting to strike. Think about it. Most of the town is asleep at that time of night. The only people awake are the college students, and most of us were still gone for spring break.”

  Staring at Jay, my mind starts running a million miles an hour. Clues are starting to piece themselves together.

  “We can only eliminate three people from the list if you want to focus on people from town. That leaves us with close to two dozen people as potential suspects. We need to narrow the list down.”

  “We should listen to the interviews,” he suggests as the alarm on my phone goes off. Reaching over, he silences it and then adds, “After the memorial bunch.”

  I realize he’s found a way to secure more alone time with me but that doesn’t stop me from agreeing. I feel like we’re onto something. That the answers are in front of us, we just have to look a little deeper.

  Sam’s murder has always felt like a puzzle someone dumped out of the box onto the table, pieces flying everywhere, and we couldn’t put it together. Now, it feels like the puzzle isn’t scattered everywhere anymore. We have all the outside pieces connected. We just need to work on the little details and soon we’ll have a finished picture of what happened.

  More importantly, of who is responsible.

  We have hope.

  Chapter Nine

  Jay and I walk into the memorial lunch together still discussing the case, oblivious to those around us. That is, until Summer steps in our path. My voice and feet both falter instantly.

  The mere sight of my old life flashes before my eyes, memories flooding my brain. The first time I met Summer. I gave Sam a ride home after work and she invited me in. Summer was still awake, sitting at the kitchen table, laptop open, drinking a cup of coffee. It was after midnight, and I remember thinking I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep if I were to have caffeine this late at night.

  She immediately closed her computer and gave us her full attention. There was a genuinely happy smile on her face. We ended up sitting around talking for hours. Summer wanted to know everything about me. Where I was from. What I was studying in school. If I liked working at Riley’s.

  And when I left, she pulled me in for a hug that warmed my heart. It was the moment I realized I’d been invited as part of their family. She adopted me as her second child that night. Treated me as one of her own from then on. Would get on my case if she thought I was working too much and not enjoying life. I was invited to every family meal, every holiday, and there were presents for me under their tree at Christmas time.

  For the first time in my life, I felt like I was part of a family. My parents gave me the material things I needed in life, but Summer and Sam provided my emotional needs. They showed me love in a way I didn’t realize I was missing.

  “Summer,” Jay greets her warmly, pulling her in for a hug that she returns with enthusiasm.

  “It’s so nice to see you again, Jay. How was your drive?”

  Summer and Jay make small talk while I zone out. I take in my surroundings, the people standing in little groups conversing. All here to celebrate Sam. To remember her. To celebrate her life.

  For me, it’s shining a bright light on what happened to her more than anything. Sure, there are things I’ve forgotten that are coming back to me. Moments we shared. Memories we made. However, I can’t help but focus on the real reason we’re all here.

  She was killed.

  Summer’s voice cuts through the haze, highlighting my very thoughts.

  “Are you two helping with Sam’s case?” she asks.

  Jay’s back stiffens. “Something like that,” he replies, not wanting to give her false hope.

  We decided on the walk over that it would be best to keep everything to ourselves for now. Any conclusions we draw. Any details we piece together. We don’t want anyone to get excited, and we certainly don’t want the person responsible to get wind of our efforts and flee town.

  The more we talked, the more certain I became that it’s someone from Great Falls. The fact both scares me senseless, because he’s still out there, and sad because we could have prevented it had we paid better attention to those around us. To the people in our own community.

  “Care to enlighten me?” she continues when Jay offers nothing more, looking between the two of us.

  “As soon as we know more, you’ll be the first person I call,” I promise her, pulling her into my side to avoid eye contact.

  The three of us take our seats at a table in the corner. The university has gone all out decorating the lobby of the student center in remembrance of Sam. Bouquets of pink and teal balloons are spaced around the large area. Pink and white flowers in teal vases adorn each table covered in a white tablecloth. But the centerpiece of the event is the large buffet running along the front windows judging by the crowd of people lining up to dig in.

  As soon as Spencer and Mia arrive, the five of us get in line to fill our plates. I try not to think about the
fact that we’re basically at a memorial service. That the black outfits everyone is wearing symbolizes death. Or that we’re only gathered because of a tragedy.

  It feels like we’re at her funeral all over again. Not that I remember that day. I have flashbacks from time to time of Mia forcing me in the shower, curling my hair, and helping me into my black dress. The service itself is a blur, and most of the luncheon after as well.

  The one thing that stands out from that day is the way the four of us—me, Mia, Spence, and Jay—stood united. We sat together. Held hands. The guys carried Sam’s casket while Mia and I consoled a devastated Summer.

  And here we are again. The four of us, along with Summer, gathering because of Sam. Because some asshole decided to take her life for a reason we have yet to figure out. Of all the emotions I’m feeling right now, anger is the most prevalent.

  Still, I keep my head held high and force myself to smile and laugh at Spencer’s jokes. I put on my brave face and push away the sadness and loss that’s clutching my heart, making it hard to breathe, let alone eat. The same feeling that’s had a vice grip on me since setting foot back in this tiny town I once called home.

  A microphone comes to life as I’m about to take a bite of my potato salad, the light puffs of a tapping sound bouncing off the high ceilings. It silences the voices around us to a low hush.

  “Hello, hello,” the dean says. Spinning in my seat, I find him standing behind a podium on the far side of the room. “Thank you all for being here today. Sam was a bright light in our community, and although taken far too soon, made a lasting impact on many of us. One such person is here today to share with you his memories of Sam. If you would please join me in welcoming Jay Ross,” the Dean concludes, waving his hand in our direction.

  My mouth drops open in shock as Jay stands from his seat next to me and makes his way to the podium while the small crowd claps. After shaking the dean’s hand, he takes the microphone from him and casually rests against the side of the podium.

  Jesus. He looks absolutely stunning. The artwork on his left arm stands out against his shirt and draws my attention momentarily. My eyes travel north, landing on his eyes. I couldn’t help but notice how his shirt brought out the colors earlier, brightening the soft gray.