Collecting the Pieces

by L. A. Fiore

  “Let’s go for a walk, Cain.”

  It was cold as we walked through the field of wildflowers that had died down for winter. We had only moved here six months ago and yet so much had happened. Cain kept pace at my side; his head up and alert before he stopped walking and looked behind us a few seconds before I heard Rylee calling my name. She was out of breath by the time she reached us. Bending in half, she put her hands on her knees.

  “What are you doing home?”

  “News…I have some…give me a minute.”

  “Did you run the whole way from the clinic?”

  She straightened. “Cute. You’re not going to believe it.”

  “Believe what?”

  “They just found Sammie Chase.”

  I felt numb and incredulous hearing that alarming news. “What?”

  “Dead. They found him a few hours ago.”

  “Holy shit. Dead?” My brain struggled to catch up. Dead. Another murder. “Where did they find him?”

  “His house.”

  “Oh my God. I was so convinced he was the one who killed Belinda. Carly stopped by last week, told me she had seen him carving up an animal when they were younger.”

  “That’s disgusting.”

  “Yeah. She went to the police to report him. Him showing up dead, I don’t know, it doesn’t seem likely that he was Belinda’s killer. Just another victim.”

  “Preliminary report puts time of death yesterday at around two in the afternoon,” Rylee said then added, “Doesn’t it seem weird that the people being targeted are the not very nice ones in town?”

  “Yeah, come to think of it, that is strange. And Sammie had serious problems, but…” My stomach twisted. “The likelihood the killer returned is not high, which means the belief that the killer is a local is probably right.”

  “Yeah, that’s what people are saying.”

  “Jesus, that’s really unnerving.”

  “You’re not kidding. I like it more and more that Jayce is moving in with me and you with Abel. Two women out in the middle of nowhere with a killer on the loose doesn’t seem very wise.”

  “You can say that again. Let’s get back to the house and lock it up.”

  “And open a bottle of wine, maybe two,” She added.

  “Sounds good.”

  It wasn’t until later that I remembered the man I’d seen talking to Sammie. Had I seen his murderer? First thing tomorrow morning, I’d stop by the sheriff’s office. My cell buzzed and reaching for it, I saw it was Abel.

  “Hey. I am so glad to hear your voice.”

  “I just heard about Sammie. Is Jayce there yet?”

  “Yeah, he arrived a few hours ago.”

  “I don’t want you going off on your own.”

  “Believe me, I have no intentions of doing that.”

  “I’ll be back in two days.”

  “Really?”

  “My woman is living in a house in the middle of nowhere with a fucking serial killer walking around. Yeah, I’m fucking coming home.”

  “I want you here, so you won’t get any arguments from me. When you get back we need to get a tree. I’ve got tons of ornaments and lights and nothing to put them on.”

  His chuckle eased the knot in my gut. “First thing then.”

  “Well, not first thing.”

  The sexy growl that rumbled over the line was answered by a sizzle that moved straight down my body and settled in some very pleasant places.

  “If Tiny wasn’t here, I’d be listening to you come over the phone.”

  Every cell in my body responded to that. I’d never had phone sex but suddenly was having a hard time thinking about anything else.

  “You need to distract me, Doc, or I’m throwing caution to the wind and you’ll never be able to look Tiny in the face again.”

  “On my God. You are such a tease.”

  “I’m not fucking teasing.”

  “Okay, subject change. Ichabod and Jeshaiah are helping me move my bedroom furniture tomorrow. I went shopping for things for your house.”

  “Our house.”

  My smile was unavoidable, our house.

  “What did you buy?”

  “I found the most adorable pink ruffle comforter with matching heart pillows. I could not resist. And the floral area rug I got for the living room really complements your masculine furniture. There are lace hand towels in the bath and pale blue ones with little pigs in aprons for the kitchen. The pink KitchenAid mixer will get a lot of use as will the blender, nothing like Margarita Mondays.”

  Dead silence.

  “Abel, are you there?”

  “I did say whatever the fuck you needed.” That was said in more of a muttered growl.

  “You don’t like pink?”

  “Do I fucking look like a man who likes pink?”

  “Come to think of it, no. Oh well, it’ll grow on you.”

  “I’ve got to go, Tiny and I still have a few more hours getting the files in order. Don’t go anywhere alone.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Love you, Doc.”

  A happy sigh escaped my lips, a sound not lost on Abel. He chuckled.

  “I love you.”

  “And Doc?”

  “Hmm.”

  “No more fucking pink.”

  He hung up. He was in for a surprise, but a good one.

  Sheriff Lenin was a hard man to track down, understandably so, but I did manage to get him for a few minutes before dinner the day following the news about Sammie. He looked exhausted and stressed. His comment to Mr. Milburn about his doctor demanding he take it easy ran through my head. He definitely looked like a man who needed to do just that.

  “Sidney, I’ve only got a few minutes.”

  “I heard about Sammie and I saw something I think may be important.”

  His expression changed, the cop looked back at me now. “Okay.”

  “About a week ago I saw Sammie on Main Street with a man I’ve never seen before and they looked to be having a heated discussion. It didn’t last long before they parted ways, but it was definitely contentious.”

  “And have you seen that man again?”

  “No.”

  “Do you think you could describe him to a sketch artist?”

  “Yeah.”

  “All right. Do you have time now?”

  “I’ll make time.”

  That earned me a smile. “I appreciate that. I’ll call Nicki and get you two in a room together.” He reached for his phone, but before he dialed his eyes found mine. “Thanks, this could be the break we’ve been looking for.”

  Nicki Butler was in her sixties and her hands were showing signs of arthritis, her fingers curling into her palms and yet the women could draw. Sheriff Lenin stayed with us, eager to see the sketch of the man. It took about an hour, but when she finished it was uncanny how accurately she’d captured his likeness. The sheriff’s muttered curse turned my attention to him.

  “Do you know him?”

  “Yeah.” He pulled off his hat and rubbed his head. “That’s Owen Madden, Abel’s father.”

  Fear hit first because Owen was targeting Jasper and Lauren and it was possible he’d killed Sammie, but anger followed because Abel was going to flip out when he learned that not only was his father in town, but that he’d had contact with Sammie before he died. And it broke my heart and pissed me off that Abel would have to deal with the potential blowback of Owen’s actions, especially when he was never a father to him.

  “Owen Madden approached Abel not too long ago, looking to pull a con on my in-laws.”

  “I know. Abel called me, told me there was a good chance his father would be coming to town and if I could keep an eye on you. I contacted the local hotels. He doesn’t have a reservation at any of them and I haven’t seen him, but he’s been here if you saw him a week ago. So where the hell has he been staying? Not many folks in this town care for his company. I can’t imagine any of them putting him up.”

 
I got hung up on the fact that Abel had called the sheriff and asked him to keep an eye on me. Something Abel would so totally do. Inappropriate timing, but I couldn’t help the smile as I looked down at my lap. Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.

  “There aren’t many places for him to be. I’ll get some of the boys on it. Thank you, Sidney.”

  “Sure.”

  “Abel is coming home tomorrow, yeah?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll contact him in a few days, after he’s settled in. Maybe he has a better idea of where Owen is holing up. Would you like a ride home?”

  “I’ve got my car. Thanks, Sheriff.”

  “Keep your doors locked.”

  “Will do.”

  I was sitting on Abel’s front step. He had called to say he was twenty minutes out. I felt like a little kid on Christmas morning, excitement twisting around in my belly making it hard for me to sit still. Abel was coming home to stay in a house we’d be living in together. I never thought I’d want to see another face first thing in the morning but Jake’s and now I could think of nothing else but of opening my eyes to Abel’s handsome, bearded one.

  I hadn’t moved the animals over yet, wanted to wait until the house had familiar scents, including Abel’s, but I hoped we could move them in early next week. I heard his motorcycle before I saw him. As he grew closer I saw the smile that spread over his face. I stood as he drove up his drive and kicked the stand down before cutting the engine

  “Hey, baby.” He’d just barely gotten his helmet off and I was throwing myself at him with a force that almost knocked him clear off his bike. “Happy to see me?”

  “You know I am.” I buried my face in his neck and breathed in him. Strong arms moved around me, pulling me even closer.

  “Doc?”

  His mouth descended as soon as I lifted my head. The kiss was long, wet, deep and absolutely perfect.

  “Where’s your stuff?”

  “Tiny is driving it up.” He playfully smacked my ass. “I need to stretch my legs.”

  “Oh, right.” I took a step back, but only far enough for him to swing his leg off his bike. He asked, “Are you all settled?”

  “I am, but before we go in…” I reached for his hand. “I’ve got to tell you something.”

  “Sounds serious.”

  “Your dad is in town.”

  His entire body went tight. “Did he approach you?”

  “No, nothing like that. I didn’t even know it was your dad. I saw Sammie having an argument with someone last week. I mentioned it to the sheriff. He had a sketch artist work with me. Turns out it was your dad.”

  Something dark swept his face and he clenched his jaw so hard I was surprised he didn’t break something. “Owen and Sammie knew each other?”

  “Yeah, but it didn’t look like a friendly conversation.”

  “And now Sammie’s dead.”

  Sure, the thought popped into my head too that Owen killed Sammie, but the fact that Abel went right there was disturbing. “You think he’s capable of that?”

  “I think he’s capable of anything.”

  “The sheriff has some officers looking for him. He said he’d contact you in a few days to pick your brain on possible locations your dad could be holing up.” Tilting my head to study him, I added, “You already knew he was in town.”

  “After Owen visited me, I knew he was heading here. I called the sheriff and asked him to look out for you. Jasper called too, had some information that only confirmed Owen’s intentions.”

  “Yeah, the sheriff mentioned that. Are you going to fill me in on what Jasper shared?”

  “Yeah, but later.”

  That seemed fair, so I let it drop. “Are you ready to see your house?”

  He pulled me close. “Our house.”

  I liked how that sounded. Grabbing his hand, I pulled him to the front door and wrapped my free one around the knob. “Ready?”

  “Not sure.”

  Pushing the door open, I stood to the side and watched as he took it all in. Ruby, sapphire and emerald suede pillows were artfully tossed on his leather furniture. An area rug, with the same colors in geometric patterns, covered part of the floor. The kitchen had accent pieces in the same colors—a large bowl for fruit, a bucket for utensils and a cookie jar since I’d always wanted one. I replaced his chipped dishes with white dishes, simple and elegant, but I spiced up the table settings with iridescent purple flatware. On the counter was a Depression glass vase I’d found at Ichabod’s and fell in love with that I filled with fresh flowers. I did purchase a mixer and blender but I didn’t get pink, I got persimmon. Sitting by the fireplace was a basket with silver accents for magazines since I loved looking through magazines on a Sunday morning while having coffee. A cashmere/wool blend afghan in the same bold colors as the throw pillows and rug was draped over the back of the sofa. In the bedroom, I purchased a comforter in navy blue and charcoal gray and added a few throw pillows in plum and ivory to add contrast. But my very favorite addition was what Abel was studying. I’d been shopping online looking for prints because Abel’s walls were completely bare. I didn’t want to just purchase for the sake of purchasing because I was certain Abel would not be a fan of prints of wildflowers and mountain streams. I focused my search on prints that featured motorcycles. The man rode them and built them, he should have a print of one. I had countless prints of animals, though I wasn’t sure I’d be hanging them here since they really didn’t fit with his personality. And then I saw it. It was a painting, the scene a parking lot somewhere but your eye was drawn to the subject of the painting from the streetlight that shone down on him—a man, leaning up against his motorcycle, ankles crossed as he looked down as if in thought. But it was how much the man looked like Abel that had me falling instantly in love—faded jeans and white T-shirt. He even had the full beard and messy bun. I hung it on the wall over the television. It was like having Abel home even when he wasn’t.

  “That’s the shit.” He twisted his head as those pale eyes slid over me. “No pink?”

  “No.”

  He closed the distance between us. His fingers pulled through my hair on either side of my head as he kissed me, his head angling to take the kiss deeper. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a claiming. My legs were completely useless when he touched his forehead to mine.

  “Love what you’ve done to the place.”

  Words were not possible at the moment. He seemed to get that.

  “We need a tree,” he added.

  “Um.”

  “We’ll go now, get the tree, decorate it and then I’ll unwrap you under it.”

  My knees buckled. Abel chuckled.

  “Sound good? Just nod your head, Doc.”

  I nodded my head and we went off to find a tree.

  The tree was important; it had to be perfect. I was usually a tall, thin kind of tree person but for Abel’s cabin I was thinking short and fat. Abel had another idea. He found a tall, fat tree—a Fraser fir from the look of it.

  “What do you think of this one?”

  “Will that fit?”

  “It’s eight feet. The cabin ceilings are ten.”

  “My star topper may not work, but we’ll work around it.”

  “We good?”

  “Yeah. Your cabin is going to smell amazing.”

  He leaned in, his thumb touching my chin. “Our cabin.”

  I felt gooey inside every time he reminded me of that. “Our cabin.”

  “I’ll cut off the bottom and get it on your car.”

  “Okay, I’m going to check out the garlands and wreaths.”

  We returned to the cabin with the tree, white pine rope garland, a big balsam wreath and clippings of pine, holly and winterberry branches. While Abel pulled the tree from the car, I dug from the garage the two wooden crates from the feed store that I’d gotten from Ichabod. I had purchased bags of topsoil, since these could be used as planters in the spring and summer too. Once the crates were filled wi
th soil, I arranged the branches and the combination of pine, holly and the splash of color from the winterberry looked so festive. Abel carried the tree over and leaned it against the railing of the porch.

  “Nice, Doc.”

  “It needs white lights. Do you have an outlet outside?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I have white lights in the garage. Extra for the garland that will be draped along the porch.”

  He moved behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “We need a tree stand.”

  “I bought one and ribbon that I’ve already turned into bows.”

  His whiskered chin touched my cheek. “You’ve been busy.”

  “I love decorating for Christmas.”

  “This is a first for me, so I’ll follow your lead.”

  Some of my Christmas joy faded as I turned into him, my thumbs curling through his belt loops. “No Christmas either.”

  He didn’t answer; he didn’t have to.

  “There’s no denying we’re different, but in a lot of ways we’re the same. I’m glad I’m the one who gets to share in all of these firsts with you.”

  In answer he touched his lips to mine. “Where’s the tree stand?”

  “Garage.”

  “I’m assuming the tree by the fireplace?”

  “That was my thinking.”

  “All right. Do you need help out here?”

  “No, I’ve got it well in hand. And I have eggnog and cookies for when we’re decorating the tree, and Christmas music. We have to listen to Christmas music.”

  He strolled to the tree, but looked back at me with a grin. “Is that a rule?”

  “It is.”

  “Good to know.”

  He lifted the tree like it weighed nothing and disappeared into the house. I stood there for a few minutes staring at the place he’d last been, warmth moving through me that he was mine. Then I got to work decorating the outside of our cabin.

  Abel stood next to me, hands in his pockets. I didn’t get the sense he was as into this as me, but he was being a good sport. We were outside looking at the decorations now that it was dark. The porch was strung with the white pine garland wrapped with white lights and where the garland was fastened to the railing, I’d placed a bow made from the Christmas plaid ribbon I’d purchased. The front door had a big balsam wreath on it, also with a bow and white lights but these were battery operated and had a timer, so no wires showed. And the two crates of branches I arranged, wrapped in white lights, flanked the front door.