“Want to walk outside with me, Myra? Give Luke a minute with Faith?”
“Yes. God, yes.”
When Coop and Myra were gone, and the door was closed, I studied Faith. I pushed hair behind her ears, then framed her face with my hands. “You’re going to be okay. Can you tell me what happened?” I spoke calmly, struggling to keep my own panic at bay.
Another tear escaped her right eye and slid down her face. I wiped it away with my thumb.
“I’m sorry. She shouldn’t have called you.” Her voice was hoarse.
“I’m always here for you. Tell me what triggered this.”
She tilted her head up; her bloodshot eyes focused on mine. “He’s dead because of me.”
“Who’s dead because of you? Steven?”
“Yes, and someone tried to kill my best friend. The whole town suspects that she murdered her husband—the man she’s loved her entire adult life, the father of her only child. But she, too, was targeted. Just like my mother. And it’s my fault.”
“I’m sorry. I’m not following you.”
“He’s doing it again,” Faith said.
“Who’s doing what again?”
“Ethan. I know it’s him.”
“Did he do something tonight?” I knew Ethan had been at The Spotted Cat all evening, at least until Myra called me.
Faith shook her head. “You don’t believe me, but I know it in my gut that he’s been following me around the country. Leaving little things for me to find inside my trailer. Making me feel like someone is constantly watching me. He’s gaslighting me, Luke. And when he lost track of me, he went after my best friend.”
I drew back. “Wait a minute, you think Ethan killed Steven Champagne and tried to kill Penelope?” I didn’t like Ethan—thought he’d become a different person after spending so many years in prison—but he’d gotten a raw deal. And so far, I’d been unable to pin him to any recent crimes.
“He might not have carried out the actual killing, but he’s tied up in it, I know it. He wants revenge on me.” She sniffed loudly. “Just thinking about how he must blame me brought back all the emotions of my mother’s death, and how my own brother had gone after her and my stepfather because of what Ethan had done to me.”
I sat on the floor and gathered her into my arms. Faith had worked so hard to push me away. But I knew I was probably one of very few people who she’d opened up to about the hyperthymesia she’d suffered from most of her life.
I would never know just how terrible it felt to relive the worst of your memories as if they’d just happened every day of your life. And her worst memories were worse than most people suffered. After years of therapy, she’d found a way to compartmentalize some memories temporarily, but I’d seen her break down before.
And because it killed me to see her in that much pain again, I’d give anything to take the paralyzing grief away from her.
I ran my hand down her hair while I considered what she was saying. “Okay. You think he’s been following you, but every time something has happened, I’ve confirmed his whereabouts. But I’ve told you many times I’m happy to investigate further.”
She laid her head against my chest. “I know it’s not rational.” The shakiness in her voice was easing as she spoke. She was becoming more steady. “But I know it’s him. Who else?”
“Okay, then we will find out who he’s been hanging around, who he’s been talking to, and what he does outside of the Spotted Cat.”
She pushed up and leaned her head back to stare into my eyes. “You believe me?”
The whites of her eyes were bloodshot, making the gold specks in her amber eyes stand out even more. “I trust your instincts. If Ethan is dangerous, we’ll prove it.” I ran my fingers from her forehead, down her cheekbone, and along her jaw. “Now, tell me exactly what happened tonight. Myra said something about a framed picture?”
She pushed up from the floor and leaned against her kitchen counter. I stood, as well, facing her. She cupped her thumb and forefinger over her forehead. “I’m so sorry she called you. She never knows how to handle these episodes. She never did.”
I grabbed her hand, pulled it away from her face, and interlocked my fingers with hers. “No matter what has happened between us, you never have to apologize for calling me when you’re in trouble.” My heart squeezed just thinking Faith would regret that her friend called me, but I was glad she didn’t pull her hand away.
She told me about KSP Detective Fish questioning whether she sent Penelope photos of her travels, about the picture frame she spotted in the crime scene photos along with a photograph of her and Darren, and about the same detective questioning Penelope about the photo.
“And you couldn’t reach Darren?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Someone left that photo there, Luke. There is no other explanation. I didn’t give it to her. We both know that Darren didn’t send someone he’s never met a photo of him and me in a rustic picture frame.”
“I’ll admit, I can’t think of a good explanation right now. But we will find an explanation. I promise.”
“And what if the explanation is because someone is after me? What if Ethan was in Colorado, stole the picture, and brought it back here?”
I stared at her, considered the possibility, then pulled her to me, wrapping my arms around her. I kissed the top of her head, then said, “If that is the case, we’ll get proof.”
I made a mental note to pull some strings and find out more from the state police. It wasn’t my place to step on their toes, but I’d find a way to get information. I had to admit, the random picture of Darren and Faith in Penelope’s house made no sense.
I also couldn’t stop from wondering if Faith’s reaction to the idea that she was at the center of Steven’s murder was a little far-fetched.
At the same time, Faith’s pain was real. I’d walked into her trailer tonight and witnessed a frightened woman curled up into a tight ball on the floor. While I’d witnessed Faith have an attack of memories before, this seemed different. Her friend was interrogated for murder tonight, and somehow this mysterious photo put her in the center of it.
I couldn’t leave her alone tonight. Not after witnessing her like this. Not after feeling her shaking body wrapped in my arms. “Look,” I started. “I’d like to stay tonight.”
Her head jerked up.
“I’m not suggesting sex. Not even if you beg.” I smiled, hoping she found humor in what I was saying. “But I’d get a much better night’s sleep if I could stay and make sure you were okay.”
The truth was, I didn’t know why this photo was at Penelope’s. But a man was violently murdered. And now Faith had been brought into the center of it.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I’d probably sleep better, too.”
I kissed the top of her head again. “It’s late. I’m going to tell Coop and Myra that they can go, and that you’ll call Myra in the morning.”
She laughed a little. “Myra will appreciate that, for sure. She’ll be hoping that I’m back to my unemotional self by morning.”
“You’ll have to tell me about that friendship some time.” I leaned in and brushed my lips across hers in a simple, comforting kiss. “I’ll be right back.”
FOURTEEN
FAITH
I woke with a start early the next morning, sensing a presence beside me.
Seeing that it was Luke barely lowered my anxiety. But when I realized I’d slept through the night without any dreams—or nightmares—I wasn’t as angry about the early morning wake-up time. Or about the fact that Luke was in my bed.
It was mostly dark, and everything was quiet. The faintest hint of light coming from outside made it possible to see the outline of Luke’s body lying next to me under the summer quilt I hadn’t yet switched out for the winter down comforter. The only sound inside the trailer was Luke’s deep, even breaths.
How could I tell him how thankful I was that he came last night? And that he had stayed. I wasn�
�t sure what admitting that would mean to him. Hell, I didn’t know what it meant to me. Our relationship had become so complicated.
We didn’t have sex last night, and yet I found my emotions completely twisted up.
I was upset last night that Myra called him. But in her defense, I had given her Luke’s number months ago when I left town, admitting to her that he knew me—really knew me—and that if she ever needed to find me, or if she thought I was in trouble, to call him. And last night, I was in trouble.
I wanted to touch Luke now—to run my hand along his face and jawline and feel the stubble that had grown there overnight.
I’d missed him. But I knew I wasn’t good for him. Telling him my feelings would only bring him pain and frustration. Just look at what happened last night. It hadn’t been fair to unload the fallout of my condition on him. Not after I’d avoided him during the months I’d been hiding at the Kentucky Horse Park.
I rolled over and started to crawl from the bed, hoping to let Luke sleep a little longer, when an arm circled around me and pulled me back.
I yelped in surprise.
He wrapped both arms around me and held my back to his chest. “Shh. It’s still early,” he whispered into my hair, burying his face into the back of my neck.
My brows furrowed into the darkness. “You should sleep more.”
“So should you.”
“I’m wide awake.”
“I could be,” he whispered. “For the right activity…”
I took a moment to consider. Though my body reacted with an immediate flutter in the pit of my stomach, my brain went into analysis overload.
When I didn’t respond, he pushed me onto my back and rolled on top of me. In the dim morning light, I stared up at him. “Luke, I—”
He cut me off when he crushed his lips to mine. I should have pushed him away. Told him no. That would have been the right thing to do—the rational response.
But the way his lips felt when they touched mine… The way his body moved against mine and reacted to me… All rational thought flew out the window, dissipating into the cool autumn mist.
I circled my own arms around him and ran my hands along his back. The muscles from his hips to his shoulders were hard and taut.
As he continued to kiss me, running his tongue ever so slightly against my lower lip, I slipped my hands under his shirt, letting my palms meet the warmth of his skin.
A groan of pleasure at the touch escaped from his throat. He broke away and dragged his shirt over his head, then lowered to me again. He looked into my eyes. “Is this okay?” Before I could answer, he added, “Please say it’s okay.”
I only took a moment before I nodded and whispered. “It’s okay.”
His lips met mine again, and this time when they did, I returned the passion in the kiss. My hands continued to explore.
I’d missed him so much.
When he buried his head into the crook of my neck and kissed me there, I kissed his shoulder and ran my teeth along his collarbone. As my teeth met skin, I unlocked something in him.
He pulled back, and within seconds, he’d removed my t-shirt, pajama bottoms, and panties. When my clothes were gone, he stared down at me. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. God, how I’ve missed you.”
I stared up at him. The look on his face was full of longing, bordering on sad, causing a lump to form in my throat.
I sat up, my face level with his. I leaned in and kissed the corner of his lips, one side then the other. Pulling back, I said, “Thank you for always making me feel beautiful.” I looked down at his boxers, back into his eyes, then I smiled playfully. “You’re still wearing clothes.”
Within seconds, he’d removed his boxers, pushed me on my back again, and we lost ourselves in each other.
Even if it was only a temporary reprieve.
Luke wrapped his arms around me as I stood at the kitchen counter making coffee. He smelled of my soap, and his hair was wet from the shower.
“If you actually want coffee, you’re going to have to let me make it,” I said, and even I was surprised at the sound of humor in my voice.
He kissed the side of my neck one more time before stepping back. “Thank you.”
My back stiffened as I poured the water from the electric kettle into the French press. “For what?”
“For trusting me enough to call me last night.”
While the coffee steeped, I faced Luke. “I’m not the one who called you.”
“Myra wouldn’t have called me if you hadn’t given her the impression that you trusted me. So, thank you.”
I turned back around and reached for two mugs, busying myself with the task at hand.
“Don’t do that,” Luke said. “Don’t turn away from me now.”
He didn’t touch me then, and I was so thankful for that. I needed to be able to count on my own strength.
As if reading my mind, he said, “I know you. For some reason—a reason I cannot possibly fathom—you think you showed weakness by leaning on me?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Look at me, Faith.”
I pushed the plunger on the French press and began pouring the two mugs. When I set the press aside, Luke placed a hand on my shoulder and forced me to turn and look at him.
“What do you want from me?” I said, clearly frustrated.
“I want you to stop hiding from me. Stop pretending that this—” He motioned with his hands between us. “—that this isn’t something real.”
“Of course it’s real,” I scoffed. I pointed toward the bed in the back. “That was real.”
“Don’t do that either.”
“You didn’t like the sex?” I smirked.
A smile broke at the corners of his lips. “I loved being close to you,” he said simply, moving closer and boxing me in. “You can make jokes and change the subject all you want, but eventually you’re going to have to admit that you have deep feelings for me.”
“Do you want coffee or not?”
“I would love some coffee.” He looked down at his watch. “But I need to make it quick.”
“I can make you a to-go cup.”
“Why do I get the impression you’d like to make me a to-go cup to get rid of me?”
“Because you’re insecure?” I lifted my eyebrows.
His lips lifted in a full smile, then, and it reached all the way to his eyes—those gorgeous green eyes I missed so much. The man standing in front of me really did get me. Why did I always insist on pushing that away when I was clearly attracted to him for more than just infrequent sex?
Instead of addressing my accusation—probably because we both knew he didn’t have an insecure bone in his body—he took the mug of coffee I poured and carried it over to the table where I had been working the night before.
“Show me the crime scene photos.”
I carried my coffee over and sat on the same side of the table with him. The picture of Penelope’s bookshelf zoomed in on the framed photograph of Darren and me was still up on the screen when I opened my laptop.
“When was this picture of you and Darren taken?” Luke asked.
Luke had met Darren when he visited me in Colorado. They didn’t like each other, but I was pretty certain that Luke thought Darren wanted something more from me than photographs of his ranch.
And then there was the suicide that occurred the night Luke visited me at the ranch. Darren and his friend, the sheriff, were pretty ticked off that an FBI agent just happened to be staying with me the night a man was found dead in a nearby horse barn—a man that had harassed me and other women.
“It was taken the night of one of Darren’s winter bonfires. He’d invited some locals and the people who worked on the ranch during the off season. A young girl who came wanted to be a photographer. She picked up my camera at one point and snapped that photo.”
Luke studied the picture within the picture. “You look beautiful. And happy.”
I, too
, stared at the picture. “Do I? I don’t remember being particularly happy. I remember being… I don’t know… less stressed. I was around people who didn’t know me—didn’t know that I felt the effects of a lifetime of memories every day of my life.” I shrugged. “They just thought I was mysterious, I guess.”
“Did you print that picture for Darren?”
“No. I sent it to him via text.”
“So maybe he printed it?”
“I guess. I tried calling him yesterday, but he didn’t answer. And he hasn’t called me back.” I grabbed my phone and checked for missed calls. There weren’t any.
Luke put his arm around me. “We’re going to figure this out.”
I turned to him. “Why would someone kill Steven? And why am I being connected to it?” I didn’t mention Ethan’s name again, but Luke knew I thought Ethan was stalking me a year ago, wanting revenge for my part in putting him behind bars for a dozen years.
“I don’t know.” He leaned in and kissed my forehead. “But we’re going to figure it out.”
I pulled back. “You don’t think I got you here… slept with you… because I wanted you to—”
“Don’t insult me, Faith.”
“I’m not. I—” I closed my mouth, thought for a second before speaking again. “I’m sorry. I’m being an idiot.”
“Big of you to admit that. It’s a good start.” He crooked a finger under my chin, holding my face in place as he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine, then released me. “I have to go. Coop and I have been assigned a new case. But I’m going to make time to speak to the state police today.”
“I imagine they’ll want to talk to me again, soon, as well.”
“Probably. You’d be at the top of my list if I were them. I’m also going to make some calls to the Colorado sheriff’s office and medical examiner. I assumed since you never heard anything else, that the night watchman that died was still considered a suicide.”
“You think they got that wrong?”
“Probably not, but it never hurts to verify circumstances.”
Secret is in the Bones (Paynes Creek Thriller Book 3) Page 10