"Who the hell is this guy?" Brand asked angrily.
"Inside the pictures was this note," Lizzie interrupted, handing the note to Sheriff Brooks who paused to read it then met Lizzie's gaze.
"From the looks of things, he's escalating, getting close to making his move."
Ryan shook his head. "How's that escalating? He just damn near killed her and Katie the other day?"
"He's making it more personal. He's bringing the hate to the place where she feels safe."
Lizzie's, "Great," was filled with fear and sarcasm and Jake rested his hand on hers on the tabletop.
"Can I see the envelope and the pictures?" Sheriff Brooks looked at Lizzie.
God, she didn't want him seeing her topless. It was bad enough Ryan got a glimpse.
"I'll be as discreet as possible Lizzie, but you know I've got to see them."
Lizzie nodded, shifting uncomfortably in her chair. Jake squeezed her hand. "It'll be alright, Darlin'."
"I hope so, Jake."
A, "Well, hell," came from the sheriff and they all looked at him.
"What now?" Lizzie asked.
The sheriff reached into the envelope and pulled out some pink flower petals and rested them on the palm of his hand.
"There are some in the bottom of the box too, Sheriff. And probably stuck on the dead rat," Ryan said.
"Okay," he said while making more notes but saying nothing. Lizzie wasn't sure if his silence was a good thing or a bad one.
"The son of a bitch better hope you get to him first, Sheriff, or he'll be dead before you get a chance to question him," Ryan said through clenched teeth.
"You're not the first one to say that to me and I'm sure you won't be the last," Sheriff Brooks said with a nod.
When Jake spoke, the deadly anger lurking beneath the calm was evident as he said, "The fucker is mine."
46
Lizzie
Later that day Lizzie was lonely and just plain miserable without Jake. She wandered aimlessly in the living room, pausing to run her hand across the mantle above the fireplace, marveling at the smoothness of the wood.
She remembered when she and Jake had talked of building a house precisely like this. The fact it was an exact replica of their plans hadn't gone unnoticed, she just hadn't wanted to bring the realization to light because if she did, then she'd have to admit to herself she was right where she belonged.
Then when she found the file and discovered he was, once again, keeping secrets, she had yet one more reason to push him away and hide behind her fear. Fear of loving him and fear of losing him.
So what did she do? She lost her temper and implied to Jake that she couldn't trust him, hurting him in the process. The worst of it was, she did trust him. With her life. She just hadn't had the chance to tell him yet.
She still didn't like the fact that he kept hiding things from her, thinking he was protecting her, but she knew why he did it. He meant well, but she knew how badly things turned out when two people weren't completely honest with one another, which was why she needed to come clean with him.
If she was going to be with him, she was going to be with him. They would share everything, no matter how big or small, and that meant she had to come clean about the accident and move past the misunderstanding that triggered the destructive spiral of events seven years before. No more 'buts' and no more 'what ifs.' It was time to make it a reality.
Resolving to be honest with Jake, Lizzie wandered into the kitchen and grabbed a soda from the refrigerator just as Jake and the sheriff came through the kitchen door. Damn. She had hoped to catch Jake alone so they could talk.
"Sheriff Brooks stopped by to tell us he's got some new information," Jake said with an emphasis on the "us".
Lizzie nodded. "Can I get you anything to drink, Sheriff? I just brewed some coffee. Soda?" She had brewed the coffee knowing Jake liked a cup when he came in for his break, and now she was grateful she had.
"Coffee is good, black. Thanks."
Lizzie brought a cup of coffee for the sheriff and one for Jake to the table and took a seat.
"I hope you've got good news."
"The sheriff over in Saratoga contacted us around one this morning to let us know they found a banged up red, Chevy Silverado abandoned on the side of the road."
"That's great!" She didn't want to get her hopes up that this was the right vehicle, but she couldn't help it. "Right?"
"Yeah. We went over that truck with a fine-tooth comb. If there's anything to be found in the evidence to help us catch this guy, we'll find it." Lizzie looked at the sheriff as he delivered that information and the fierceness of his gaze told her exactly what she needed to know—he was bound and determined to catch this guy once and for all.
"What are the chances you'll find something?" Lizzie asked.
"Pretty good considering the fact that we found a few cigarette butts in the ashtray."
"You're kidding?" The surprise in Jake's voice matched hers. She wouldn't have expected the guy to be so sloppy.
"Nope. The rest of the truck was wiped clean of prints—steering wheel, seat belt, door handle, window, gear shift, but when we pulled out the ashtray, there were three smoked cigarette butts. Must have overlooked it."
"That's a good thing, right?" Lizzie asked hopefully.
"Should be. And the Doc is working on it as we speak. She said she'd make it a priority. And we're running tests on the blue paint that was found embedded in the dents of the truck to see if it matches your SUV and vice versa."
She grabbed Jake's hand. "This could all be over soon."
"I hope so, Darlin'." Jake's brows were furrowed.
"What is it?"
"Seems too easy."
"Let it be easy for once."
"Baby, you know that's not how this guy works. Nothing is ever easy."
Lizzie looked to Sheriff Brooks to gauge his reaction and one corner of his mouth tipped up in a wry grin. "My thoughts exactly, Kramer, which is why we are going over everything once, twice, and then a third time just to be sure."
Sheriff Brooks rose from the chair. "I should be going. I have to give them a hand with the evidence. I'll let you know as soon as I hear something."
When they reached the front door, Lizzie stopped him. "Thank you so much for coming all the way out here."
"It's the least I can do. And it sure was nice to see something bring a smile back into your eyes."
"You catch this guy, Sheriff, and I'll make you my famous linguini and clam sauce for dinner, and for dessert I'll make you a cherry cheese torte."
"Hey!"
When Jake protested, Lizzie rolled her eyes. "Men. So greedy." Then she laughed. "Relax Jake, I'll make it here and there'll be enough for everyone."
"Sounds good. I'll be in touch." The sheriff tipped his hat and walked out the door.
After the door closed, Lizzie looked at Jake. "You think they'll catch him?"
"This could be the break we've been looking for." Jake put a companionable arm around Lizzie's shoulders, and she snuggled close to his side.
"I hope so, Jake. I'm so tired of being afraid."
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest. "It'll be alright. One way or another we'll get this guy. You can count on it."
She leaned back in his arms and looked at his face. "I can count on you, Jake."
He gave her a hard look. "Yes, you can. Where's Bailey?"
"With Ryan. Jake, we need to talk."
47
Jake
He inwardly cringed. Talk. Every time he heard her say they needed to talk, the conversation usually ended up being one he didn't enjoy. "So talk. I thought you pretty much said everything you needed to the other night."
"I was wrong."
Now he knew he was hearing things. He put a finger in his ear and wiggled it, then pulled it back out. "You were what?"
"Ha, ha. Very funny. I was wrong, and I'm big enough to admit it."
Okay, maybe this conversat
ion would be one he wanted to hear. "Wrong about what?"
She stepped out of his arms and turned to pace the living room. She walked over to the mantle by the fireplace and ran her hand across the surface. "You. Me. Us."
He wasn't sure if she was expecting him to say something but there was no way he was going to interrupt. This was her show and he'd let her take the stage. He walked over and took a seat on the sofa, crossed one booted foot over his knee, and extended one arm along the back, resting the other on the arm of the couch. He may be a jumbled-up mess inside, but he could at least look cool on the outside. Or try to.
She turned to face him. "I love you, Jake, more than I thought I could, and to be honest, more than I wanted to ever again. But I do love you and I don't want to live without you. I want us to work this out, but it means we both have a lot of changing to do."
God, how long had he waited to hear those words? "What kind of changing?"
"Well, the first and most important change would be not keeping secrets. We've both kept too many from each other. Secrets have the power to destroy us."
"Why the one-eighty? What's changed?"
"The minute I said those things I regretted them. I wanted to clear things up last night, but I didn't know where you were and then circumstances took us down a different path." She walked over to where he sat on the sofa and took a seat next to him. She turned so she faced him, so he did the same. "I lived without you for seven years, Jake. Seven long years. I now know it was all a big misunderstanding, one that could have been fixed if we had just talked and trusted one another."
He nodded. "And stayed."
She nodded. "And stayed."
"I know I was wrong back then, keeping things from you, as I am now, for making the same mistake. You're wrong too, Lizzie. You need to trust me. I would never intentionally hurt you, then or now."
She reached over and grabbed his hands. "I know. But you need to trust me too. With everything. Your keeping things from me is hurting me. I'm not a little girl anymore. Don't get me wrong, I love that you make me feel protected and safe, but I don't like being kept in the dark about things."
He could see her point, so he nodded again. "Lizzie, I don't want to lose you. I didn't give you the information about the note left at the accident because I didn't want you to be more afraid. I didn't want you to have to deal with that. Why should you when I can take care of it for you?"
She gently squeezed his hands. "But, Jake, I want to know this stuff. Even if I don't like what I'm hearing or if it threatens me in some way, I need to know. That doesn't take away from my needing you. In some ways it will make me need you more."
He raised a brow in question, and she continued on. "You, Jake Kramer, are my rock. In the time I've been home, I've come to need you and depend on you. I need you in my life."
"What guarantee do I have that you aren't just going to up and leave? You did it once when I least expected it and I can't go through that again. I won't." Hers wasn't the only heart that needed protecting.
"I promise you from here on out if I plan on going anywhere, you'll be the first to know."
"I can live with that."
"And can you promise to always tell me everything?"
"That's not a reasonable request. There may be times when I won't be able to tell you everything. How about I promise to tell you as much about everything as I can from here on out?"
"That, Cowboy, is a deal."
"Deal." He stuck out his hand to shake hers, but she didn't grasp it and a look of sadness came over her. "What is it?"
A lone tear slid down her cheek and he wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. Then he put a finger underneath her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. Anguish. Pain. Grief. Sorrow. Those were all emotions he found swirling in her eyes, and he knew she was about to tell him something big. Something he had given her time to get straight in her head and in her heart. Something he vowed to himself not to push her on. Something that tore him up so badly inside he wanted to howl in anguish. But for now, he'd let her tell him in her own way, in her own time, about the one thing they never talked about. The one thing that nearly destroyed her. And him.
He watched as she tried to gather the courage to tell him, and while she did so, he just waited. Patiently, silently, lovingly.
She wiped the tears from her cheeks, but they were quickly replaced with fresh ones. "There's something I have to tell you, Jake."
"You can tell me anything, baby. Anything."
"I know. I know." He watched her blow out a breath and then laugh mirthlessly. "This is so hard." She sat straighter on the sofa and squeezed his hands. He gently squeezed hers back, encouraging her with his touch to continue. "The only way to say this is to just say it. So, here goes." She sniffled then met his gaze, tears shining in her eyes. "The day I overheard you talking to Cami was the day I found out I was pregnant with our baby."
He'd known, but the shock at finally hearing the words pass her lips was not lost on him. "Our baby," he whispered.
She nodded. "I was coming to tell you I was pregnant, but then I heard what turned out to be only part of your conversation. I felt so betrayed and so lost, Jake. After I overheard you and Cami, I went home, packed and left for school that same day. Only Mama knew that I was pregnant and only because she found the test still clutched in my hand when I came in the door."
"You had the test with you when you came to see me?"
"Yes." She smiled through her tears. "I was so happy. I just wanted you to see that pink plus sign."
He nodded and tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. He hadn't meant to interrupt her, but he would have been so damn happy, even at twenty-two, to see the love of his life bring him that little stick that said they'd created a miracle. "What did Margaret do?"
"We talked and I told her what happened. She told me to stay and wait to find out the whole story, but I was so distraught and panicked and stupid. I just wanted to get away as quickly as possible. So, she helped me pack and make arrangements, the whole time trying to get me to wait for your explanation, but I left anyway. I never had any morning sickness, and every time I called home Mama said I was lucky because she had been so sick with both me and Brand. Maybe I was, but that luck ran out all too soon."
His heart hurt so badly he wanted to beat on his chest and shout how unfair the whole thing was, but instead he did what she needed, what he needed. He listened. "What happened?"
"I was driving home from my second appointment with the obstetrician when a truck ran a red light. I was at a four-way intersection and I had a green light. I was going about thirty miles per hour, and in the middle of the intersection, the truck plowed right into the passenger's side door which wouldn't have been so damaging, except the guy was driving fast. God, it was so fast. When he hit me, both vehicles skidded across the intersection and right into a utility pole." She drew in a shaky breath. "It was all a huge blur and still is. I could see the green of the traffic light clearly, but everything else was distorted, then it all went black. I woke up four days later, my left leg was in a cast as well as my left arm, same arm as now, only worse. Anyway, I hurt so badly, I thought I was in hell. But the true hell didn't happen until later. Mama was there when I woke up. Apparently, I had been in and out for four days, but I don't remember any of that."
She paused and looked down at their joined hands. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks, and it was killing him to see her relive so much pain. But he knew she needed to get this out in the open, so they could finally put the past behind them and move on. He squeezed her hand reassuringly and she looked up to meet his gaze.
She sobbed. "I lost the baby in the accident. No one but mama knew I was pregnant at the time and when I got to the emergency room, they focused on the bone breaks because they found no signs of internal bleeding. By the time Mama got there and she told them about the baby it was too late. I was already out of surgery, anesthesia, and no longer pregnant. I lost the baby in the accident when the car hit the
pole so hard. They had to do what they called a D & C to remove any remaining tissue, and they weren't sure just how badly I was damaged inside. They said I'd probably never be able to have children."
Jesus. He hadn't known about that.
"Oh Jake. I lost our baby and I may never be able to have another." He pulled her onto his lap and tucked her face into the curve of his neck, wrapping his arms tightly around her. That's when she broke, crying hard, body-shaking sobs.
"Shh." He tried to soothe her, but he knew that this time she wouldn't stop crying until the grief finally had a chance to be purged.
He held her while she cried, rocking her and murmuring it would be okay. Finally, when the sobs subsided, he realized it was time to tell her the truth too.
"Lizzie."
"Hmm?"
"I was there."
"You were where?"
"At the hospital. With you."
She pulled back, an expression of shock on her face. "What?"
"Your mom called me and told me about the accident. You kept calling out for me every time you woke up. Every time you realized I wasn't there, you slipped away again. I got there as quickly as I could and just as I walked in your hospital room, you called out my name and reached for me as if you knew I was there. I stayed for two days, until you stabilized. You woke up, well, half woke up, saw me sitting in the chair beside your bed and ordered me to get out." He shuddered, the memory hurt him deep. "I did the only thing I could to help you then. I left. I went home and buried myself in my work at the ranch. I called your mom every chance I got to see how you were. I wanted to be there for you, baby, but my being there only made things harder for you and you had enough to deal with."
When Petals Fall: A Cowboy, Second Chance Romantic Suspense (Chance Creek Book 1) Page 24