Finding Forever (Colorado Veterans Book 6)

by Tiffani Lynn

  When I finish showering and blow-drying my hair, I make my way downstairs, following the smell of coffee and omelets. As irritated as I am about him hanging close, I can’t say I’m not happy about eating one of his signature omelets. He uses peppers, tomatoes, ham, cheese and a special seasoning that all fits together perfectly. It was my favorite thing he cooked when we were together and the bastard knows it. Just like he knows I’ll have all the ingredients in my fridge no matter what day of the week it is. Even though I live alone, I keep my fridge stocked. It’s something I got from my mom, who grew up in a Southern household. You have to be prepared for company that may show up at any moment and you need to be prepared to feed them like they are going off to war. I know it’s ridiculous, but it’s just the way she was and subsequently so am I.

  As I hit the landing, I hear music and him whistling along. Now that, I don’t miss. I’ve always hated whistling. Something about it gets under my skin in the worst way and I smile to myself. If he keeps that up, it will be easy to stay mad at him. When I turn the corner, I see a steaming pile of omelet on a plate next to a cup of coffee, which I’ll bet has two sugars and a splash of cream. He was always good at noting the little things with me.

  After he flips the omelet in the pan over, he turns and rests his butt against the counter and his eyes meet mine. “Yours is ready.” He nods in the direction of the food and coffee. His hair has gotten long and wild, along with his beard. If I didn’t know him and he came up to me on the street, I’d probably be afraid.

  “Thanks,” I say quietly.

  “Welcome.”

  I sit at my kitchen table and take a bite, forgetting for a second to be irritated by him, and moan as the flavor bursts on my tongue. No matter how many times I’ve tried to recreate these, I can’t do it. My omelets are edible but not this good.

  “Glad you like it,” he grumbles, a light tone in his voice, and I glance up at him to find that there is a small grin playing at his mouth.

  “So what’s with the wild-man look you have going?” I blurt.

  His laughter is deep and guttural. “Wild man?”

  “Yeah, looks like you just got out of a Colombian prison after being stashed there in the early eighties.”

  Damn it. More laughter that stirs warmth in my chest.

  “Well, Jeannie retired about a year and a half ago. I wasn’t ready to find someone new, so I just let it all grow out.” He shrugs and turns back to the stove. Then he slaps his omelet on the plate and sits down across from me.

  “Do old ladies clutch their purses in the store when you walk past?”

  More chuckle. “Yeah, but that’s okay.”

  “Your boss doesn’t mind you looking like…?” I twirl my hand in the direction of his hair and face, and he smiles softly.

  “I work at a garage; don’t have to be pretty for that. Don’t have anyone at home, so no one to complain.” He shrugs one shoulder and keeps eating.

  A weird silence descends between us. I’m oddly happy that there is no one living with him. It’s a total waste because he’s such a great guy, but I’d probably die of jealousy if there were. I know it’s wrong. Hell, it’s just plain mean, but I can’t help it.

  “I can tell your omelet skills haven’t diminished. Thanks.”

  “Not hard, sweetheart. You’re welcome.”

  We continue to eat, the silence teasing me to ask questions I don’t know if I really want the answers to. “Why don’t you have anyone at home?”

  With a quick glance up at me, he says, “You know why.”

  “Other than the wild-man look you’ve got goin’ on, I can’t figure it out.”

  Carefully he sets his fork down and leans back in his chair. “I can give you the answer, but I don’t think you’re ready for it.”

  Both fear and desire spread out from my core and I swallow the last bite of my breakfast. Our eyes stay locked and I take a deep breath. “You’re probably right. Sorry I asked.”

  I stand and walk past him toward the sink. His hand is lightning quick as he reaches out and grabs me swiftly but gently by the arm to get my attention. “Don’t be. I’m ready to share, when you’re ready to face the truth. It hasn’t changed since the moment I met you and it never will.” My chest rises and falls rapidly as I take in his words, until finally he lets me go and I proceed to clean up.

  Within fifteen minutes, I’m in my car and he’s following me in his Bronco to the hospital. It’s a good thing he was with me because there were several reporters from various news stations outside the house and he had to clear a path for me to get out. The real issue is revealed when we get to the hospital. There are twice as many reporters and people lingering outside the employee entrance as what we left at my house. We park and he plays bodyguard all the way to the door, pushing aside people that keep trying to stop us and growling at anyone who gets too close. Once we’re inside, he says, “I will be right outside this door at eleven o’clock sharp tonight to take you home. If you give me your keys, I’ll have a friend from work help me move your car back home.”

  “But—” I begin.

  “Don’t argue. Some of those people are too aggressive. I need to make sure you’re safe. Give me that, please.”

  My heart melts a little at his protectiveness. “Fine,” I acquiesce.

  He pushes out the doors and is gone, while I lean against the wall, letting my mind drift back to the day that started all of this mess.

  The air was warm and dry with a slight breeze as I left the hospital. I looked down to check my messages because I was waiting for a return call from my sister. Wes was supposed to call but it wouldn’t be until about three a.m. our time. I’d called my sister every day for three days with no return call. So, I’d decided that if there wasn’t one from her when I got out of work, I was going to her place to make her talk to me. We’d gotten in a bit of a tiff over something stupid and it wasn’t like her to hold a grudge that long, but I’d had enough, so I was going over there to force a reconciliation.

  I slid into my driver’s seat, buckled my seat belt, and drove to her house. When I got there, several lights were on. I knocked and she didn’t answer. That was taking it too far. I couldn’t believe it; the fight wasn’t even our worst one in the last year. I banged on the door and rang the bell. No answer. “Fine. If you’re going to be a brat, I’m going to use my key and come inside. You can’t hide forever.”

  I opened the door and never heard the key click. It had been unlocked. She knew better than to leave her front door unlocked. Her phone was sitting on the couch, a half-eaten burrito that didn’t look fresh was on the coffee table and the television was on The Weather Channel. “Darr, I’m here. Where are you?” I called out to her. No response. I walked further inside to find her purse on the counter, next to her car keys. Still no response. “Darrien! Get your ass out here!” I yelled as I continued to her room. Still nothing. Her room was quiet, bed still made from the morning. Her bathroom was dark and empty. Fear gathered in my gut.

  “Darrien, this isn’t funny. I’m about to freak out and call the cops. If you’re hiding, you better come out.” There still wasn’t an answer. I rushed out of there to the guest room and found it empty. I checked the second bathroom and it was empty too. My heart was pounding so hard at that point, I can still feel it like a ghost even now. I’d pulled my phone out of my pocket and called 911. It took a half hour for someone to show up. Because it had been days of me trying to reach her, they went ahead and filled out a missing person report, took her phone and fingerprinted the place. It was like she’d disappeared into thin air. The only thing indicating that she may have left out the front door was the fact that it was unlocked. Her shoes were even sitting there. Detective Rasan took all my information and promised to call me as soon as he found something or heard from her. Her picture and description showed up on every news station from Colorado Springs to Denver.

  That night, Wes didn’t call like he was supposed to. That had been happening with incre
asing frequency and I suspected it was because things had gotten rough there. He’d lost three men in his unit during the previous month and I suspected he wasn’t dealing well with it. When I’d asked him about it, he always said they were out on patrol and he couldn’t get to the phone. I’m not sure why I didn’t believe him, but I didn’t. That night I’d needed him more than I ever had before and he didn’t come through. I never slept that night and ended up calling in to work the next evening. By day three, I hadn’t heard from Detective Rasan, so I went to the station. I hadn’t showered and I don’t think I’d brushed my hair, so I was frightening.

  He took one look at me and knew I wasn’t dealing with this well. He led me to a private room and got me a hot cup of coffee. “Jess, we’ve gotten a few leads but not much that’s panning out.”

  The tears had slipped from my eyes as I thought about my baby sister out there somewhere, probably in some crazy guy’s basement, facing who knows what.

  “Have you put in a request with the Red Cross to get your husband home?”

  “He hasn’t called me. I don’t know what to do. I used to know what to do but I can’t think straight.”

  “Okay, give me a minute. I’ll be right back.”

  He left the room and returned a few minutes later with a pretty female police officer. Her dirty-blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her face was makeup free, her name tag read Pettit. In her left arm she had a laptop computer. It took her less than ten minutes to file the request for me.

  “Jess, you okay?” My coworker draws me out of the memory and I wipe away the tears that had begun to fall.

  “Yeah, Renee, I’m okay. This has been a rough day.”

  “I saw the news. I’m surprised to see you here. I wasn’t sure if I should call or leave you alone.”

  “I couldn’t sit at home and think. I needed to keep busy and this place takes care of that.”

  She moves in and hugs me before I can protest, and it feels really good. “Come on, let’s go get distracted.” I give her a half-hearted smile and we head to the ER.

  Eight

  Wes

  What a damn mess. I’m glad I argued with her about taking her to work. The reporters were like vultures, having no care as to what she’s going through. She was either going to have a complete breakdown on camera and later hate herself or she would have been arrested for assault. It was that bad. Once I get back to my Bronco, I dial Dexter’s number and he answers.

  “Hey, man, it’s Wes.”

  “You guys okay?”

  “Not really. I need your help. The press is camped out at Jess’s house. Any chance y’all can chase them out of there? I’m putting in a call to hospital security for them to handle it at work. Those asshole reporters were all up in her face, screaming questions at her. I thought I was going to have to punch one of them in the throat to get him out of the way. I can’t imagine if she’d gone in on her own tonight.”

  “Yeah, Quinn and I are on today and we will handle it the best we can. We can swing by there and warn them off the property and not to block the roads. That should help. I’ll also put in a call to make sure there are more frequent patrols by the house for the next few days. You need me to pick her up from work?”

  “Nah. I’ve got her covered. I’m about to head to the shop and talk to the Averettes about this. I’m going to adjust my schedule for a few days to escort her wherever she needs to go.”

  “Okay, we will do what we can. Call anytime and make sure Jess has my cell number and Quinn’s too.”

  “I don’t have Quinn’s, only Judson’s.”

  “I’ll text it to you. But make sure she has them. If she has an issue with anyone, even at work, have her call us and we’ll take care of it.”

  “Thanks, man. I owe you.”

  “Nope, it’s what friends do.”

  “Thanks.” I hang up the phone thinking I haven’t spent enough time with Dex and need to remedy that when all of this clears up. He’s a good guy.

  I run by my house, jump through a quick shower, change clothes, brush my teeth and put a bag together for tonight. She might protest, but I’m not leaving her alone while all this is going on. When I reach Averette’s Automotive, I pull into my usual parking spot and hop out.

  The bays aren’t open because it’s so damn cold but I can see heads moving behind the small windows in the garage, so I know they’re busy. When I reach the reception desk, Shaunda stands, a look of concern on her face, and comes around to hug me. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know about your ex or her sister. Do they have any information yet?”

  “No, not really. It’s okay. I don’t share much.”

  “Duh! Quit being so dang quiet.”

  When I first started, Shaunda was out of work and going through chemotherapy treatments, so it’s taken me longer to get to know her. What I do know is that she works hard and loves her family more than anything. She’s the glue for all of them now that their father is gone, and definitely the heart of Averette’s Automotive. Although her fingers are never greasy and you’ll never see her under the hood of a car, she somehow manages to keep this place moving like clockwork, helping to balance any personal issues for herself and all of us with patience and calm.

  “Now, what can we do to help?”

  “Well, I was coming in to talk to all of you. Can we grab the others please?”

  “Sure. Hold on.” She hurries out to the garage and returns almost as quickly as she left. Marshall, Jeff and Colby follow her back in the door, all three wiping their hands on rags.

  “Hey!” They all greet me in various tones and move into the lobby.

  “So I’m going to give you the short and sweet version. You know I’ve been divorced for four years. Well, five years ago, when I was deployed to Afghanistan, my wife’s sister went missing and was found murdered. They never caught the guy who did it. They had a couple of leads but none that amounted to much. The detective on the case promised he’ll never stop trying to find the killer.

  “Earlier this week, they got a viable lead and raided the guy’s house. We haven’t heard if they found anything there yet, but the press is having a field day with this story. They’re camped out in front of Jess’s house and at work too. I’m not comfortable leaving her alone to deal with this. I’d like to alter my working hours while this is going on so I can stay with her until she goes in at eleven in the morning, and come in to work after that. I know Colby has to step back for a little while and we will be slammed. I don’t mind working late and extra hours, I just want to be there to make sure Jess is okay.” They all nod as if they agree with what I’m saying.

  “Whatever you need, dude. You know that. We aren’t uptight around here. Family comes first always,” Marshall declares without discussing with the rest of his family, but it’s obvious they all agree.

  “I wasn’t sure that applied to an ex-wife,” I admit as I glance around to take in everyone’s response this time.

  “How ex is she really? I haven’t seen you with anyone since you started working here. If you feel strongly enough about her to rearrange your life to help, then I’m not going to stand in your way. She obviously means a lot to you,” Marshall explains as he looks to the others.

  “No complaints from me. I get it,” Jeff remarks.

  “Colby?” I query.

  “Of course not. I’m glad she has someone like you.”

  “I’m not sure she agrees, but she doesn’t get a choice right now. I’m all she has.”

  “She may not say it out loud, but I’ll bet a million bucks she’s glad to have your support. Don’t let her push you away. Victor saved me by shoving his way in when I was too stubborn to ask for the help I needed.”

  Swallowing hard to avoid any show of emotion, I nod before replying, “Cool. I appreciate it.”

  Jeff speaks up again. “Why don’t you just get a list of what needs to be done from Shaunda when you come in every day and leave a list for her of what you got done. That shouldn’t
be a problem. We’ve been steady with work, but not slammed.”

  “Can’t thank you guys enough.”

  “Don’t mention it. You’ve become family too, so if we can help you with anything, please let us know,” Colby says quietly.

  I lift my chin, knowing I can’t actually respond. The men clap me on the arm and return to the garage, probably understanding that I don’t want to share more than I have. The women don’t seem to have the same thought, or maybe they just don’t care. Colby waits as Shaunda moseys back to her desk.

  “I’m glad you’re helping her. I can’t imagine facing something like that alone. I was serious,” she glances back to her sister, “stick close to Jess. Sisters hold a special place in your heart. If anything ever happened to Shaunda… Well, you get what I mean.” I nod but still don’t speak, afraid of losing it, and finally she pats my arm and returns to the garage too.

  I stand there for a minute, trying to collect myself. Once I know I won’t lose it, I pull out my cell phone and call the hospital and ask to speak with the head of security. I say goodbye to Shaunda and let her know I’ll be in tomorrow, working with the new hours, and she flashes me a sympathetic smile and reminds me to call if we need anything.

  A couple of hours later, I meet with George Monte, the head of security at the hospital, and am not happy with the outcome. He’s been the head of security for ten years and only dealt with one other situation like this. That one was brought on by a patient, not an employee. It seems that once Darrian’s story hit the news this time around and the reporters started showing up, the hospital administrator called him and suggested they place Jess on leave. The hospital administrator apparently doesn’t get involved in the day-to-day operations of the hospital generally, but felt the situation warranted his intervention. Mr. Monte said his hands were tied and that they weren’t going to be able to get more help to cover Jess. I explained that the only thing I wanted was a clear path from her car to the door and back, but he still gave me guff. We’ll see if they have any help out there tonight when I return, but I’m not counting on it.