"You thought you saw him? Here?"
She nodded. "I thought I saw him clearing the tables after dinner. Before you tell me that Kenneth McGuire is dead and that he's probably not moonlighting as a busboy in Tremont, Montana in the afterlife, I know that he's dead. But apparently my brain hasn't quite got the message yet. Dani thinks it's because that I've taken such a giant step forward and my subconscious is sort of freaking out. Being scared is my safe place. Doesn't that sound pathetic?"
Noah made a mental note to thank Dani when he had the chance because what she said made absolute perfect sense. It made so much sense, in fact, that he should have predicted that something like this would happen. Liz had been living in a self-imposed prison for a long time and her mind wasn't going to give that up easily. It would put up a fight.
"I do not think that you sound pathetic at all, and I think your friend Dani is a genius. We all should have seen this coming and prepared for it. This isn't going to magically go away just because McGuire is dead."
"I was sort of counting on that, though."
"So was I but we're back to reality." He reached out and tentatively placed a hand on her purse. "So that's why you wanted this with you?"
"It made me feel safer." She lifted her stubborn chin. "I won't ever be a victim again."
With all his heart and soul, Noah hoped that was the case. He couldn't imagine his life without this woman in it. He'd crossed over a line in their relationship and he wasn't looking back.
"Why am I so fixated on him? There were other criminals there that day."
"Because he was fixated on you," Noah replied. "Because you had to go through his trial while the others pled guilty. It's only natural that he would be the one that would haunt you more."
She sighed, her lips turned down in sadness. "I'm so tired of this. I don't want to live my life like this anymore."
"That's good. It's that desire that's going to keep you moving forward." He levered far enough out of his chair to lean over and brush her lips with his own. "I'll be there with you. You won't be alone."
Sniffling, she rubbed the back of her hand against her eyes. "Stop it. You're going to make me cry. And I'm tired of doing that, too."
"Then how about we go dance? I'm not that coordinated but I can manage a few steps."
She ran her fingertips over his stubbled jaw and he nuzzled into her hand, loving the feeling of her satin skin against his far rougher flesh. "You're a good dancer."
"I'm an okay dancer. Now what do you say?" He tapped the handbag. "It can come, too. It's fine."
He could see that it wasn't fine. Not to her. She was biting her lip and her normally light brown eyes were almost grey with conflict.
"I can set it on the table," she finally said. "I did that before. I feel very safe when you're here."
Did she have any idea what that simple statement did to him? His chest tightened painfully and there didn't feel like there was enough room for his heart anymore. He might as well give it to her. Piece by piece, she was slowly owning it. This was fate and the universe, after all. Who was he to fight it?
"Thank you."
He managed to get the words out despite barely being able to breathe. If this was going to become a habit, he was in trouble.
"I need to freshen up."
Noah stood, lending her a helping hand as well. "There's a ladies room on the way back."
They walked hand in hand back to the party, stopping at the restroom on the way. Like most large get-togethers, the bathrooms were busy with people coming and going.
"Go on. I'll meet you when I'm done."
He didn't want to leave her, not when she was feeling so vulnerable.
"I'll just wait here–"
"No, I'll be fine. It's okay," she pressed, giving him her best brave smile. "There's lots of people around. Go get us a couple of sodas and I'll be right there. Five minutes tops."
As much as he didn't want to leave her, he also didn't want to make her think that she couldn't handle herself. Or worse, that he didn't think she could take care of herself.
"Take your time," he said, finally capitulating. "I'll get us a couple of ginger ales and meet you on the dance floor."
"Sounds good."
Liz disappeared into the ladies room and Noah headed into the crowded atrium. He easily located the drinks and grabbed two cans of soda from a large ice filled chest.
"Paper cups?"
A smiling older woman wearing a catering uniform was holding out two paper cups.
"Thanks. That would be great."
Her gaze ran over the dancers under the disco ball. "Seems like a fun party. There's going to be a wedding, right?"
"There is. This weekend."
True to her word, Liz was already walking toward him. So incredibly gorgeous. He couldn't drag his eyes from her.
"She's very beautiful," the woman observed. "You're a lucky man."
"I am, thank you."
He was. Luck might have brought them together the first and second time, but he wasn't going to depend on it going forward. Noah was going to do everything he possibly could to make sure that this time they stayed together.
22
There were a bunch of hungover people at breakfast the next morning. Most of the group met at the diner, although a few had stayed back to get some extra sleep.
Liz had thought about staying in bed and pulling the covers over her head but her friends were determined that she wasn't going to get away with that. According to them, if Mallory could get out of bed and go to breakfast after all the booze she'd consumed, Liz could get out of bed as well.
So she'd dragged her carcass out of bed and into the shower, trying to wake up when she'd spent most of the night tossing and turning. She couldn't even blame alcohol or staying up late.
It was Kenneth McGuire's fault.
Or to put it another way...her stupid brain's fault.
He'd taken up a space in her head and he wasn't going to let it go easily. After she and her friends had come home last night, they'd all crawled into bed, groggy from good food, drink, and friends. After the long day she'd had, Liz should have fallen asleep quickly but instead she'd stayed awake running through those moments when she'd thought she'd seen him.
Over and over, beginning to question her very sanity.
It really looked like him.
But it couldn't be him. Even if he wasn't dead, he would have been in prison for a very long time.
"You look like you hate your waffle."
What?
Liz looked up from her plate and into Noah's eyes, the corners crinkled in amusement. "I don't understand."
"I said you look like you hate your waffle. Feeling hungover, babe?"
It was an excellent excuse. Too much booze. So she grabbed at it.
"A little, yes. But I don't hate the waffle. I like waffles." Her eyes narrowed as she took in Noah's handsome face. He looked like he'd slept eight hours and ate kale at every meal. What in the hell? "Why are you so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed? You drank last night, too."
Chuckling, he popped a piece of bacon into his mouth. "The famous Anderson hangover cure. It works every time."
One glance around the table told the tale. All the Anderson men looked amazing while those without their last name looked like they'd rather be back in bed. Even Mallory didn't look that great, so clearly Carter hadn't shared this secret with her. Dizzy, Leann, and the other wives, however, looked chipper and rested.
"You aren't going to share it? That's cruel."
He shrugged and sighed regretfully, although he didn't look sorry at all. "You have to be an Anderson to be let in on the secret. I'm sorry."
Asshole.
"You won't even give me a hint? And what about Mallory? She's getting married in a few days. You won't even tell her?"
"I can't. Carter will tell her after they're married."
This had to be some sort of joke. He couldn't actually be serious.
"This is bullshit
." She poked him in the chest with her finger. "I think you're full of it. Absolutely full of it. Anderson family secret? No way. More like Noah Anderson trying to pull my leg. I bet if I looked up hangover cures on the internet I'd get a better answer than from you."
"Go ahead. You won't find it. It's controversial."
"Controversial?" she echoed. More bullshit. "What do you do? Sacrifice a virgin or something? Just tell me what it is. If this is even real, which I don't think that it is."
"Then you won't care that I can't tell you."
Liz hadn't had much sleep, her eyes felt gritty, and her stomach wasn't quite up to snuff, either. It all added up to less than perfect patience. If he wouldn't answer a straight question, then she'd ask someone else.
"Leann, your cousin here says that the Anderson family has a secret hangover remedy but he won't tell me what it is. I think he's full of shit. What's the verdict?"
Dizzy's hand flew to her mouth and Brinley's face turned pink, her shoulder shaking with laughter while Jason ducked his head down, clearly trying to hide a grin. Every Anderson man around the table looked like they wanted to bust out laughing.
"The Anderson family hangover cure secret?" Leann said with a smile. "He told you about that?"
"He said it was controversial and that I needed to be an Anderson to know about it. I don't mind not knowing about it, but right now I'm thinking that he's playing a joke on me."
Arden was Shane's wife, beautiful but extremely quiet, barely speaking even last night at the party. She glanced around the table and then back at Liz.
"There is a secret hangover remedy," Arden said with a smirk. "It is controversial as well. Only the men do it. The women just pace ourselves when we drink, make sure to eat and stay hydrated. The usual stuff. No secrets there."
Shane shook his head, his cheeks red. "Aw, baby. Don't rat us out."
"Rat you out? This is no secret cure," Arden replied with an eyeroll. "Liz, the famous Anderson hangover cure is actually quite simple. The men drink too much, often puke, and then pretend that they're fine because they'd rather die than admit they feel like hell. I guarantee you, right now, if these men were alone they'd be whining and bellyaching about how awful they feel. So the secret is really no secret. They just pretend. In fact, in a few minutes one of these big strong strapping males is going to pretend to take a phone call when he's really going into the men's room to be sick. Later they'll all pretend to need to sit in their dens or bedrooms with the doors closed. They'll tell you they're doing paperwork when they're actually napping."
Leann elbowed her husband Zach. "Except for him. He really does have the constitution of a rhino. I've never seen anything like it. He can drink and it never affects him."
Zach grinned and nodded. "Gigi and Aubrey are the same. It's a family trait. Comes in handy every now and then."
Liz turned her attention back to her new boyfriend. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
Grimacing, he held up his phone. "That I need to take a phone call in the men's room?"
Everyone laughed, including Liz, who wrapped her arms around Noah's neck and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "I didn't realize you were such a jokester–"
The words died in her throat as she blinked once, twice, three times. It was happening again. Her stomach curled into a knot and bile rose in her throat. She didn't want this. Not now when she was having fun and living life.
"Honey, what's wrong?"
She pointed out the large picture window of the diner. "Across the street. I saw him again, walking down the sidewalk."
To her surprise Noah shoved back his chair, the legs scraping loudly on the tile. "Then let's go find him. So you can see that it isn't him for real. Maybe that will help with this."
Dani nodded in agreement. "That's a great idea. Go quick and find him. You need to see that it's just someone who vaguely resembles him."
Liz didn't stop to ponder the suggestion, letting Noah lead her outside the diner. They jogged across the street and down to the corner as quickly as possible, but by the time they arrived there wasn't anyone there.
"He's gone."
Taking a deep breath, Liz swallowed her disappointment. She'd wanted to find him, make herself see that he wasn't McGuire.
"If there's someone walking around Tremont and looks like Kenneth McGuire, we'll find him," Noah said, his gaze running up and down the intersection. "This town just isn't that big that he can hide for long."
"Or maybe he doesn't look like McGuire. This could just be me doing this. Me being crazy."
With no end in sight.
The next morning, Noah cornered Jason right before they were supposed to tee off on the local golf course. The ladies were having a spa day and the men were doing eighteen holes.
"Is there any possible way that Kenneth McGuire could be alive?"
Jason frowned. "What? No. No, he's dead. Why do you ask? Is this about Liz seeing someone that looked like him?"
Yes and no. Noah had been thinking about this since yesterday. Liz hadn't had this issue for months, by her own admission. And well...stranger shit had happened.
"There's no way that Kenneth McGuire could have faked his own death? It's impossible?"
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jason sighed. "I just wanted to relax and play golf today."
"We all did, now answer the question."
Sinking down onto the locker room bench, Jason reached down to tie his shoes. "Do you know what all would be involved in faking a death inside of a state prison?"
"No, and that's why I'm asking you. Could he have done it?"
"My answer is going to be the same. No. He couldn't have done it. He'd have to have the cooperation of the prison doctor, the warden, and who knows who else. This isn't a television show—this is real life."
"People do fake their deaths," Noah persisted. "I've heard that it's happened."
Jason nodded in agreement. "It has happened, but under less stringent circumstances. McGuire was in a state prison. That means that the state of Colorado was responsible for him twenty-four-seven. Now, you could argue whether they did a good job since he was in a prison fight, but the prison doctor has to sign off on that death certificate."
"He could have been paid off."
Noah could see that he was making his cousin crazy. He wasn't doing it on purpose, but if Liz hadn't been seeing McGuire all around her for months until she came to Tremont...
"With what? How would they pay him off? McGuire didn't have any money. He was cremated by the state since his family couldn't pay for it. And while we're talking about this, let's talk about all the people that witnessed him dying. The other inmates, the guards, the prison nurse. That's a lot of people to pay off. I suppose it could be done, but it would be damn hard to do and even harder to keep under wraps. As soon as more than one or two people know what's going on, secrets have a way of becoming public knowledge."
Noah sat heavily down onto the bench, rubbing the back of his neck where he now had a pain that didn't seem to want to go away. "Liz said that right after the bank robbery she thought she saw McGuire everywhere."
"That would make sense after what she went through."
"But she hasn't for months. Then suddenly she comes here and she sees him again. Dani said it was because her subconscious is freaking out about her not wanting to be afraid all of the time. Being scared is her safe space and all of that. But I've been thinking..."
"That McGuire is alive and fucking with her," Jason finished. "That's some wild ass conjecture. The chances are slim to none. I know you want Liz to be happy and healthy but if she says she's seeing someone that looks like Kenneth McGuire, maybe she is. Not him, but someone that has his coloring or maybe walks like him. Everyone has a lookalike, right?"
"And Kenneth McGuire's lookalike just happens to live in Tremont? Those odds seem even more farfetched than faking his own death."
"I'll agree with that." Jason scraped his fingers through his short hair. "Okay, I'll call
the warden. He's a friend of a friend. He's going to think I've lost my fucking mind."
The last part was muttered under Jason's breath but Noah didn't care. He was grateful that his cousin was taking this seriously.
"I'll owe you big for this."
"Yes, you will." He pulled out his phone. "Now give me a few minutes to call my friend. You know, all I wanted to do today was play golf. I'm always so busy with work I never get to play golf anymore."
"I'm thankful."
"Fuck you."
Noah stood and headed toward the locker room door. "I'll wait with the guys. If I haven't said thank you yet...thank you. I really am grateful, Jason."
"Go away."
Noah happily left his cousin alone. It was an insane theory but he had to be sure...
Was Kenneth McGuire really dead?
23
There was a huge barbecue at the Anderson ranch that evening filled with family, friends, and delicious food. Liz was sure she'd never seen this much food in her entire life. There were slabs of steak, hamburgers, hot dogs, chicken, and even veggie burgers. There was an entire table of side items, in addition to a table of desserts. At the rate she was going for this wedding, she wasn't going to fit into her bridesmaid dress on the wedding day.
If only putting on a few pounds were her biggest problem.
She was ecstatic that she and Noah had reconnected, but that happiness was dimmed by the fact that she had baggage. Issues. Problems. Stuff. Things that weren't going to be solved overnight. It was bad enough that she had to deal with this, but to put Noah through it, too? He hadn't signed on for this. Sure, he kept saying that he wanted to help her but he didn't know what he was getting himself in for. She did. She'd been living this for the last two years and while it was getting better, it was still...bad. She feared she might be dealing with this for the rest of her life.
All day long she'd been looking all around her, studying the faces of strangers to see if they resembled Kenneth McGuire. To her relief and frustration, none had. But she was still doing it even now, searching for a person that she really didn't even want to see.
Dancing With Danger (Danger Incorporated Book 10) Page 15