Can't Forget You (Psychological Suspense Thriller) Summit Lake Series

by Kristen Middleton

  I shuddered. “How about, no, you sick fuck.”

  “That slithery tongue of yours would feel great on my—”

  “Enough!” I snapped.

  He chuckled. “Temper. Temper.”

  I clenched my jaw.

  Deputy Billings motioned for me to calm down.

  Patrick went on. “I don’t know why you’re so angry about me using a fake name. I mean, what moron uses a real name when they sign up for dating sites?”

  I looked at Marcy. She gave my phone the middle finger.

  He continued. “I mean, there are so many freaks out there. It’s dangerous exposing yourself.”

  “Yeah, but you didn’t need to use a real person’s name and information,” I replied angrily. “You stole his identity and pretended to be someone you weren’t. That’s despicable.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic. I was going to tell you the truth, but you never gave me the chance.”

  I snorted. “Right. Like I believe that.”

  “Believe what you want.” He let out an exasperated sigh. “Apparently, I was wrong about you. All you care about is meeting a man with money. You’re like the rest of the gold-digging whores out there in the word. It’s a pity. I really thought you were different.”

  Having heard enough, Deputy Billings began to speak. He introduced himself and then warned Patrick that he was committing a crime by impersonating the dentist.

  “And what are you going to do about it, Deputy?” Patrick asked in a mocking tone. “Find and arrest me?”

  He frowned. “I think we should definitely meet and discuss the situation—”

  Patrick gave a derisive laugh. “Sorry, but that’s a hard pass on my end. You and I have nothing to talk about. Frankly, this isn’t even any of your business.”

  A pained look spread across Deputy Billings’ face. “You realize that we can trace your number and find out who you really are. Now, if you meet with us in a civilized manner, we can avoid this getting any uglier than it already is.”

  Patrick chuckled. “Right. Good luck with trying to trace me. Disposable phones are great, aren’t they?”

  The phone went dead.

  The deputy sighed. “I was afraid of that.”

  “Was that the guy who gave me the card?” Jordan asked, his eyes wide.

  I nodded.

  His eyes widened. “Has he killed anyone?”

  Marcy and I looked at each other.

  “Let’s hope not,” I muttered.

  8

  SOPHIA

  AFTER QUESTIONING JORDAN, Deputy Billings let him go.

  “I hate to say this but there’s not much we can do about this Patrick character. Unfortunately, he hasn’t done anything that we can arrest him for.”

  “What do you mean? He impersonated your dentist,” Marcy said angrily.

  “Unless we have evidence of it, we can’t prove anything.”

  “I might be able to get proof from the dating site,” I replied. “They’re supposed to do background checks on us. I had to enter my social security number onto their website. I’m sure Patrick would have had to do that as well. Err… rather, Brian’s.”

  “Well, if they can verify that the real Brian Gunderson’s social security number was used fraudulently, then we would have something to go on. Until then, there isn’t much more we can do. I know it’s not what you wanted to hear, and I’m sorry,” he replied.

  I sighed.

  Marcy stared at him in exasperation. “You heard him, Deputy. He’s not through with her. She’s obviously in danger. Surely, there’s something you can do to help protect Sophia?”

  He lifted his hat, ran a hand through his hair, and sighed. “If you’d like, I can send a patrol car out by your cabin to keep a lookout tonight. That’s all I can really do at this point.”

  “We’d appreciate it,” Marcy said before I could reply. “Thank you.”

  He nodded. “Of course. In the meantime, keep your doors and windows locked and give me a call if he harasses you again.”

  I nodded. “Oh, I definitely will.”

  “And if you do see him driving around town, get his license plate number. I’d like to run it and see who this dipshit really is,” he added.

  “No shit. We’d all like to know,” Marcy said.

  A SHORT TIME later, Officer John Hishaw, the guy in the second squad car, followed us back home to the cabin. Apparently John was a new guy on the force and seemed very eager to help out. Not to mention that he was good-looking, which piqued Marcy’s interest.

  “I thought you were head-over-heels in love with Robbie,” I said, during the car ride home.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I adore the guy.” She wiggled her finger on the steering wheel. “But, when one doesn’t have a ring on the finger, one can still keep her options open.”

  I snorted. “Honestly, though, I think dating a cop would be too stressful. You’d always be worried about them making it home at night. I mean you would know this better than anyone.”

  Her face grew serious. “Very true. Look at what it did to my parents’ marriage.”

  Marcy’s dad had been a homicide detective who’d spent more time at the bar than at home. He’d also worked long hours, so she’d barely seen him. Eventually, her parents divorced and his drinking became even more problematic. After hitting rock-bottom, he finally met a nice woman at one of his AA meetings and things worked out in the end. But I knew that Marcy still harbored some resentful feelings toward him.

  “True. How are your parents, anyway?” I asked.

  “Doing well. Mom is taking a cruise next month and excited as hell. She wants me to join her. You, too. She loves you, you know.”

  “I love her, too. I wish I could go. A cruise sounds amazing right now.” I sighed dreamily.

  “Yeah, I agree. Anyway, she’ll have fun with her friends. They always do.”

  We talked about her family as we headed the rest of the way to my place. After pulling up next to the cabin, we watched as John parked his squad car at the end of the gravel driveway, by my mailbox.

  “We should make him some coffee. So he doesn’t grow tired,” Marcy said as we got of her car.

  “Good idea. You can bring it to him,” I teased.

  She smiled and winked. “Oh, you know it.”

  We started walking to the porch and I suddenly had a chilling feeling that Patrick was out there, hidden in the darkness, watching us.

  Marcy must have also felt some of the same paranoia, because she glanced nervously toward the woods. “I hate this. You know, I bet the bastard is probably spying on us right as we speak.”

  “Let’s hope not.”

  “You don’t have that old .22 rifle your dad gave you, do you?”

  I’d forgotten all about it. Although I wasn’t a hunter, we used to go target shooting together. It had been years since I’d taken it out, cleaned, or fired it. “Yeah, but I don’t know if there are any bullets.”

  “Now might be a good time to look.”

  As much as I couldn’t see myself ever shooting anyone, Patrick scared the hell out of me. If anything, the gun might possibly provide some kind of leverage if he broke in.

  I pulled out my keys and unlocked the front door. “I’m pretty sure it’s in the guest bedroom. Up in the closet. I’ll have to go and find it.”

  Marcy suddenly grabbed my hand from the doorknob. “Hold on.” She lowered her voice. “What if he’s inside?”

  I swallowed. I didn’t want to believe Patrick was truly that dangerous, but what did we really know about this guy other than he was obsessed with me?

  Marcy reached into her purse and pulled out a can of pepper spray. “Stay behind me,” she whispered.

  She led the way into the cabin. She flipped on the living room light and we cautiously stepped further into the place. After checking each room and finding the cabin empty, we made sure the windows and doors were secure.

  “You know what you should do? You should get yourself a dog
,” she murmured, pouring us each a glass of wine afterward. “A Rott or a Pitt. Something that would scare the hell out of an intruder.”

  “They’d scare me, too,” I joked.

  “Some dogs just get bad raps. Besides, they worship their owners. You just have to get them trained and show them who’s boss.”

  “I actually wouldn’t mind a Lab or a Husky. I’m just never home. The poor thing would get lonely.”

  “Get two dogs then.”

  I snorted. “Easy for you to say. I just bought all new furniture and I’m still paying it off. They’d destroy it while I was gone.”

  “So you’re saying your furniture is more important than your welfare,” she mused.

  “Stop. You know the time just isn’t right for me right now. Maybe someday, but not when I’m barely here to water my plants.” I motioned to a fern that was hanging by the window. The poor thing looked parched. I walked over and began filling a cup of water. “Seriously, I refuse to do that to an animal.”

  “Gah. I still think you should consider it. You know the only reason why you’re putting in so many hours at work is because you’ve requested it. You told me yourself.”

  She was right. I hated having a mortgage and was trying to pay down the principal.

  “Fine. I’ll think about it. Just quit nagging me about it.” She’d been teasing me about getting a dog for years. She had a German Shephard named Layla, who I had to admit, was a pretty awesome dog. She was still young, however, and pretty rambunctious. “Speaking of dogs, you should have brought yours over.”

  “What, and watch her wreck your furniture? I’d never hear the end of it,” she teased.

  We both laughed.

  “Anyway, the neighbors are keeping an eye on her for me until I get home.”

  “That’s nice of them,” I replied.

  “Yeah. They’re great. I don’t know what I’d do without ‘em.”

  The ice machine made a loud noise, startling the both of us.

  “Talk about being on pins and needles,” Marcy said, chuckling. “You know, maybe now would be a good time to search for the .22? Seriously.”

  “Good idea.”

  9

  SOPHIA

  I FOUND THE rifle where I thought it had been—tucked away in a closet. After inspecting and cleaning it, I brought the .22 into the kitchen, along with a box of ammunition. I set everything on the kitchen island.

  “Guns have always scared the hell out me,” Marcy admitted, staring at it with trepidation. “But, not as much as bat-shit crazy Patrick.”

  I leaned back against the counter. “Hopefully, we’re just being paranoid about everything and he’s already given up on me.”

  “Right. You know that’s wishful thinking.”

  Suddenly, my phone chimed. I looked at the screen and smiled. “It’s just Mitch texting me.”

  She looked confused. “Who?”

  “The guy I was telling you about earlier. The one who owns the restaurant.” I suddenly realized something—Mitch might be able to pull up Patrick’s credit card information. He could possibly give us a name! That was, if he’d used one.

  I read Mitch’s text. He wanted to know if I was interested in having dinner with him the following Monday. At his place.

  Hell yes, I was. I smiled in delight.

  Marcy noticed and started drilling me with questions about him.

  “I honestly don’t know much more about Mitch other than what I already told you.”

  She took down the ponytail from her dark hair and pulled the binder over her wrist. “So, he’s hot. Knows how to cook. Is handy. And successful. Sounds almost too good to be true.”

  “I thought you said Robbie was all of those things. Minus the cooking.”

  “Yeah, he wouldn’t know how to boil a pot of water.” She smirked. “Also, his taste in music leaves a lot to be desired. He loves Country, and you know me. I can’t stand it. Anyway, maybe Mitchie-Poo can help you get rid of Patrick. You’d better answer his text.”

  I thought about it. I didn’t want to bring Mitch into this craziness.

  What if someone actually did get hurt?

  “What’s that look?” Marcy asked, noticing my hesitation.

  I told her.

  “I see your point.” She sighed. “But, what if you don’t get another chance like this? It sounds like you really like him. You can’t let this creep, Patrick, stand in the way of you being happy. Besides, maybe if he sees you with another guy, he’ll give up.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Maybe.”

  “Do you have that night off on Monday? Ms. Workaholic?”

  “No, but I’m sure I can get someone to cover my shift.”

  “You’d better start looking now.” She yawned and stretched her arms. “I’m going to get my pajamas on.”

  “Okay.”

  As she went to go get ready for bed, I texted Mitch and told him to call me when he had a minute. A few seconds later my phone rang.

  “Don’t tell me, you’re calling to let me down softly?” he teased, a smile in his voice.

  I laughed. “No. I’d love to have dinner with you.”

  “Good. You had me worried there for a minute.”

  “Actually, speaking of being worried…” I told him everything that had happened with Patrick.

  “You’re kidding? That’s nuts,” he replied, sounding shocked.

  “I know. I’m still trying to process everything that’s happened.”

  “Are you okay? Would you like me to come over?”

  Again, his concern made me smile. “I’m fine. I have my friend Marcy here and there’s a deputy keeping an eye on the place tonight. In case he shows back up.”

  He sighed in relief. “Okay. That’s good. What a wacko. Hopefully they’ll catch this bozo.”

  “I know. Hey… I know this is probably a longshot, but you wouldn’t be able to pull up his credit card information from last night, would you? So we can try and identify who he really is?”

  “I wish I could. He paid with cash. I only remember because he made a big deal out of showing off his money clip. It was brimming with cash.”

  “Weird. There wasn’t anything special about the clip was there?”

  “No. Nothing fancy.”

  “The guy is such a weirdo.”

  He agreed. “You didn’t get his license plate number on the BMW, did you?”

  “No. I was too freaked out to notice it.” I couldn’t even remember if it was a Minnesota license plate.

  “Well, hopefully the cops will catch the psycho and you won’t have to worry about him any longer.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Anyway, it’s getting late. I should let you go. If you need anything, call me. I mean it. I don’t care what time it is.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  “I’m working tomorrow. If you and Marcy want to stop in during the day, I’ll buy you lunch.”

  “That’s so sweet of you. You don’t have to.”

  “I know I don’t. But, I want to. I’d like to see you again as well. Before our date.”

  I smiled. “I’d like that, too.”

  After a few more words, we hung up.

  Marcy walked into the kitchen wearing unicorn zip-up onesie pajamas.

  I laughed. “Cute.”

  She pulled the hood up and posed. “Don’t you just love it? Robbie got it for me. I told him I loved unicorns and he bought it last weekend.”

  “That’s so sweet.

  “Yeah. I guess he really is a keeper. So, what did your lumberjack have to say?”

  I told her about the conversation and his offer to buy us lunch.

  “Yum. Sounds great. I can’t wait to meet him.”

  “I still can’t believe he’s interested in me.”

  Her eyes grew soft. “And why wouldn’t he be? You’re beautiful, smart, and fun to be around. I wish you could see what everyone else sees.”

  A little choked up, I gave my friend a hug
. As I was releasing her, my eyes drew to the small window above the sink. Noticing Patrick staring back at me, I screamed.

  “What is it?”

  I grabbed my phone. “It’s him. Patrick! He’s outside!”

  She gasped. “How did he get past John?”

  “I don’t know.” I dialed 911.

  Marcy raced over to the light switch and flipped the porch lights on and off, trying to get the deputy’s attention. “Why isn’t he doing anything?”

  As I was talking to the 911 operator, there was a loud crashing noise and the sliding glass door shattered. Both of us screamed.

  Patrick kicked away the remaining glass and then stepped inside of the house, holding an ax. Before I could grab the rifle from the counter, he lunged toward me.

  Screaming, I ran like hell toward the front door, but wasn’t fast enough. He grabbed the back of my shirt and pulled me against him.

  “Hey, hey, hey. Relax! I’m not trying to hurt you. Just… quit struggling!” Patrick snapped, dropping the ax.

  “You… you let her go!”

  We both turned and found Marcy holding the rifle.

  Patrick snorted. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  Even I had to admit, Marcy looked far from menacing wearing her unicorn onesie, even with the .22.

  Marcy glared at him. “No. I’m not.”

  Still holding me, he pulled out a handgun and held it against my temple. “I guess if it has to end this way, then so be it…” He inhaled the scent of my hair. “My beautiful, Sophia, you smell so sweet. We would have been so great together. In life. But that doesn’t mean we can’t share eternity together.” He looked at Marcy. “Go ahead. Pull the trigger. I’m ready.”

  Shocked and frightened, Marcy lowered the rifle. “Oh, my God!” she sobbed. “Please… just let her go.”

  “Never.” His grip on my arm tightened.

  Where in the hell was John?!

  Hadn’t he noticed the lights?

  The noise?

  “Drop the gun,” Patrick ordered.

  Marcy looked at me.