28 Days: a romantic suspense

by Lexi Buchanan

“Was her father in the room when she gave the statement?”

  The sheriff rubbed at his brow. “I don’t think so. He was busy arranging the private hospital if memory serves me right. He stayed with Saige for just over a week while she was in the hospital and would only leave when his wife visited, and only for a short while. After that, he went back to work, but he would always be there in the evenings. Out of the two of them, I’d have said her father was the more caring. But that’s an assessment that probably goes back years before Saige was taken.”

  That was the impression Coulter had gotten back then. Christina had always come across as self-centered, and he felt that what had happened to Saige was an inconvenience to the woman.

  “Just to clarify—Saige was the one who told you what was written in that statement?”

  The sheriff’s gaze hardened. “I don’t like your insinuation, Detective.”

  Coulter ground his teeth together to swallow the words he wanted to say. The man was being intentionally obstinate. He held up his hand and showed his index finger. “So far, there have been three murders. Three women who all connect in some way to the Petersons.” He held up a second finger as though he was making a tally. “My truck was blown up outside of the station in Tampa.” The third finger went up. “Saige Lockwood is remembering things and she’s trying to remember who took her.”

  The sheriff’s eyes widened and it was clear that he was starting to see the pattern. “Is there a connection? I don’t know. Quinten Peterson has seventeen days left on this earth. I questioned his guilt back then during the investigation and trial, and I’m questioning it more now. I don’t believe Quinten Peterson should have been charged or convicted. Something else happened back then and I’m going to find out what it was. I don’t care who I piss off in the process as long as an innocent man gets his life back.”

  Coulter stood, his anger eating at him and he wanted to unleash it on Hodges. “Saige Lockwood and Quinten Peterson were in a relationship.” Coulter rested his hands on his hips and held the sheriff’s surprised look. “Love was involved, which explains why Quinten was found wrapped around Saige in the forest. I’m beginning to realize that Saige had already lost her memory in regards to Quinten and what happened to her before she ‘supposedly’ gave that statement.” He walked to the window. “Damn.” Coulter dropped his head and concentrated on getting his temper under control as he stared outside.

  Minutes later, he felt movement close to him. “I’m not going to state the obvious, Detective. I’ve already told you I felt it was more of a rehearsed statement than a real one, but what could I do? Saige insisted it was hers and that everything she said was true. She signed it and passed it back. I didn’t think it necessary to query anything, especially once the DNA results came back and Quinten was charged.”

  It appeared he wasn’t the only one to have questions during the initial investigation. Coulter had been vocal about his misgivings at the time, and now he wished he’d pushed a lot harder than he had.

  “Did you talk to Saige again?” Coulter asked him. “I mean directly after she’d given her statement, before she was transferred to the private hospital,” he clarified.

  “Not that I recall. I remember talking to her father, Richard, and he seemed torn about whether he was doing the right thing or not.” Hodges shrugged. “I’m a father, are you?”

  Coulter shook his head. He wasn’t sure he would ever want a kid after the stuff he’d seen in the department.

  Hodges continued, “Well, I can imagine the hell he was going through. If it had been my daughter, I’m not sure I would have been able to keep myself from hunting the bastard down and shooting him myself. Richard wasn’t like that. He wanted the bastard caught, but his focus was completely on Saige. He was a man worn down by what had happened and I know he felt like it was his fault…like he hadn’t been a good enough father and protected his daughter.”

  Hodges shook his head and stared outside the window Coulter was perched beside. “Not long after Saige was transferred to the private hospital, Richard was hospitalized with pneumonia. Christina was involved in a car accident, but luckily, she walked away pretty much unscathed. It was a rough time for all involved. The family was in ruin and I thought it best to give them some space to heal.”

  The sheriff moved away and sat back behind his desk. “I asked a few times as to Saige’s wellbeing and was always told she was ‘improving’.” He shrugged. “I left them alone, which I’ll admit was easy to do considering how short they were when I’d talk to them.”

  Coulter sighed and dropped into the chair. “It isn’t our job to follow up when a case is closed...but, I went after Jocelyn once Quinten was sentenced. She’d already cleaned out.”

  Hodges frowned. “Why’d you look for her?”

  “Because I never believed a word out of her mouth, and I wanted to push her buttons and push her into admitting she lied...she may have already been dead by then.”

  “We both did our jobs, Detective, and the evidence was there, otherwise Peterson would never have been convicted. We both need to forget what happened and concentrate on sorting through the mess we have now...because if what you believe about Quinten is true, then time is running out.”

  Coulter agreed, “Seventeen days.”

  * * *

  2:00pm

  * * *

  “The detective is bringing your friend with him tomorrow.”

  Quinten’s head snapped up to look at the guard. “What?” he whispered.

  “You heard me. The warden has approved her to visit you. Your detective friend had something to do with rushing it through. Been told to tell you they’ll be here sometime before lunch.”

  He nodded at the guard and rested his back against the wall.

  Saige really was coming to visit him. Just the thought made him feel sick. What if she really didn’t remember him? When he remembered everything.

  Her smile could bring him to his knees, and the way her eyes would light up when she looked at him always made his heart thump wildly in his chest. Saige had given him a reason to get out of bed every day. Before he met her, he’d felt his life spiraling out of control because of the disaster of a marriage he’d been in.

  His business with his brother had just started to get off the ground, and he’d finally managed to hide enough money to go ahead with the divorce and then his life had shattered.

  He’d given his heart to Saige, something that Jocelyn had never had. He thought back to his marriage. It had happened quickly and he realized, even before he’d sought a divorce that he’d confused lust for love. When he’d met Saige, however, he had finally understood what it meant to love someone unconditionally.

  Saige was a breath of fresh air in his miserable life. She gave him something to look forward to. Meeting at the boathouse, he’d spent hours with her in his arms as they talked and cuddled.

  At first, he always felt guilty for being with Saige while still married. The guilt hadn’t been for Jocelyn—that woman had had so many affairs he’d lost count. His guilt was for Saige. He wanted to be with her freely, without all the baggage that he had. He’d planned to make that happen before everything derailed.

  Slowly shaking his head, Quinten made his way to the metal desk in his room and sat down heavily. The only item on the desk was a dog-eared book, City of Ashes, which had been Saige’s favorite. She’d given it to him for safe keeping when she’d gone back to school. It was the only thing he asked Alex to bring him once he’d been shown his new home in Harlington.

  Opening the book to the center, his fingers rubbed against the worn leather bracelet that Saige had given him. He never wore it because it was too small for his thick wrist, but he’d taken it and treasured it always.

  When he was first incarcerated, it had been his security blanket of sorts. Eventually, he’d hidden it away in the middle of the book. No matter how much he’d been asked by the guards to lend the book to other inmates, he always refused.

  Smooth
ing his hand over the page, he smiled, remembering the rosy blush that would coat Saige’s cheeks when they’d get to more of a romantic bit in the book. He’d nuzzle into her neck to hide his amusement. Her voice would go all soft and husky and it had taken a lot of self-control to not take advantage of the situation. He’d craved a taste of her but he’d always held himself back—until that last night.

  Dreaming about that last night a couple of days ago and waking, not having Saige in his arms, had crushed him all over again.

  He was desperate to see her in the flesh instead of in his memories, and tomorrow he would.

  * * *

  3:00pm

  * * *

  “Bring me a beer and yourself, woman.” Quinten smirked and laughed.

  “Getting demanding aren’t we, Mr. Peterson?” Saige grabbed a beer that Quinten had brought with him, and flounced over to the sexy man.

  He’d showered and changed into a long-sleeved, navy t-shirt and workout pants. The long sleeves had been shoved up to his elbows, showing off the amazing artwork that he’d had permanently inked into his skin, which she thought was sexy. Not that he needed anything to add to his manliness.

  Placing the beer on the table, Saige straddled his thighs and wiggled closer. Quinten sucked in a sharp breath when her breasts pressed into his chest. She grinned and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “Saige,” he groaned as she felt something growing hard beneath her. Saige pressed closer. “Fuck.” Quinten hissed as he held her hips still and closed his eyes before opening them to look into hers. “I want you. More than I’ve ever wanted anyone, but until I’m free, we can’t.”

  Saige knew he wanted her, he couldn’t exactly hide it and, unfortunately, she agreed with him when they talked about it.

  The time in the boathouse was so they could be together, and Quinten had often told her that it was out of love and respect for her that he couldn’t make love to her. He wanted to come to her free of everything. She understood that. It just left them both frustrated.

  Taking pity on him, Saige rearranged herself on his lap and snuggled into his welcoming arms.

  Quinten kissed her on the forehead. “You know how much I love you, Saige. How much I want everything with you. As soon as I’m free, I’ll claim you and never let you go. I hope you know that.”

  She smiled. “I can’t wait for you to claim me, Quinten, and I respect you for wanting to wait.”

  “But?” He rested his head against hers.

  “I want to be closer to you,” Saige admitted.

  “You’re closer to me than anyone else. You know more about me than even Alex. I respect you too much to take what I crave while I’m not completely free.”

  “As frustrated as I am, as I think you are, I love you all the more for that.” Saige cupped his bearded jaw and placed a sweet kiss to his lips. “I love you, Quinten Peterson, and I’ve never been more excited about my future as I have been since I met you.”

  “God, babe.” Quinten kissed her hard before he pulled back and rested his head against the back of the chair and stared at the ceiling. “Talk to me because you sitting on my erection is killing me.”

  Saige felt butterflies fly around in her stomach at his confession. “When?”

  Quinten blinked at her but she could see he knew what she meant. “I told you that I already talked to a divorce attorney before I even met you, right?”

  Saige nodded.

  “I called him at the beginning of last week. I paid the deposit he requested and he’s starting on the paperwork. I quoted irreconcilable differences as to the reason for the divorce. Figured it would be simpler then her adultery.” He sighed. “Jocelyn will be mad as all hell when she finds out that I’m actually going through with divorcing her, so I’m trying to go the easy route instead of accusing her of multiple accounts of adultery.”

  He shifted so that she was half on and half off his lap as he loomed over her. “She’s vindictive and I really don’t want her knowing about my feelings for you.” He leaned down and kissed her. “But make no mistake, Saige. Nothing and no one will be able to stop this divorce from happening. I should have listened to Alex, but I didn’t and I’ve paid the price. No more though.” He caressed along her lips with a finger while licking his own lips.

  “I love you,” he whispered softly before sealing their lips together.

  Saige jumped and her eyes snapped open seconds before she rolled from the sofa with a thump.

  “Oomph...ouch,” she moaned but remained on her back while she got her bearings, and slipped back into reality.

  Tears seeped from her eyes in a strange mixture of longing and desperation. She wanted to be with Quinten and she wanted to remember all the times they’d spent together.

  “Saige?”

  Alex.

  “Saige, what the fuck?” he stated and stood over her. “Shit. What’s wrong?” he added, obviously noticing her tears.

  “I didn’t sleep so well so I decided to lie down on the sofa and I had a dream.” She shrugged, but Alex could see through her confession.

  “Let me help you up.” He reached out and, with a tug, had her up and back on the sofa. “What did you dream?”

  She paused and then admitted, “About Quinten and our time in the boathouse.” She offered him a shy smile. “I want to hold on to him, Alex. There’s this need inside of me to hold on and never let him go. It scares me. Every night I go to bed with another day behind me. I’m so scared that I’m going to remember everything once it’s too late.”

  Saige wiped her tears from her face with the sleeve of her sweater when she got a good look at Alex. Her eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong?”

  He laughed but there wasn’t any mirth behind it. “That was my line.”

  She nudged him. “We’re a sorry pair.” She grinned. “Spit it out.”

  “It bothers me about Fern and Tracy. I’m almost afraid of so much as talking to another woman.”

  “I’m alive,” Saige added.

  “I think you’re safe. It only seems to happen to women I’ve had, um”—he blushed—“you know with.” He cleared his throat.

  “You had sex with Jocelyn?” Saige asked, shocked.

  His brother’s wife!

  “Fuck, no! She was Quinten’s wife for one thing.” Alex stood and ran his hands through his hair. “I never touched that woman.” He shuddered in revulsion. “Don’t get me wrong, she was one hell of a looker, until you got to know her, or got on her bad side, which I was always on.”

  “Then maybe there isn’t a connection,” she commented, hopeful that the killer wasn’t targeting women Alex had slept with.

  Alex shook his head. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but I think there is. I’m connected to Jocelyn through Quinten, and Fern and Tracy through sex. There has to be something, or someone, missing from all of this. It’s driving me crazy.”

  Saige grabbed a cushion and wrapped her arms around it for comfort, her knees curled under her while she rested her head on another cushion. “I don’t know what to think anymore. But I do know that Quinten is innocent. He didn’t take me. I know that with every fiber of my being. And even though I don’t relish the thought, I wish that I dreamt more about my time in that shack. Maybe if I did, then I’d remember hearing or seeing something that could be added to Coulter’s report for the governor.”

  “I don’t know why your dreams are centered around Quinten rather than the shack, but I think with Coulter’s report, and your new statement, Quinten will get a stay. The governor won’t be able to do anything else because if the execution goes ahead, the public will be in an uproar, and he’s up for reelection.” Alex didn’t look worried, he just looked annoyed more than anything.

  “I hope you’re right,” Saige whispered.

  * * *

  7:30pm

  * * *

  Alex was angry and worried. There had to be a reason why the killer would take both Fern’s and Tracy’s lives mere hours after he’d been with them.
That was no coincidence. Then why hadn’t he admitted that to Detective Robinson?

  You know why.

  He didn’t want Coulter’s investigation centering on him. Now that Quinten was close to being free of the crime, they would need to go looking for another murderer. And he was terrified that it would all fall back on him—the brother of a killer, leaving a trail of dead women behind him.

  He dropped his ass to the foot of the bed and cradled his head in his hands. Exhaustion seeped through his body and he ached with it. For once, he felt real panic well in his gut for Quinten. Alex had always hated his brother being locked away, but now that time was running out, he had never felt so helpless.

  Hearing a tap on his door, Alex froze, and heard it again.

  Christina?

  She was back and, with the mood he was in, he wasn’t sure it would be wise to have her in the same room as him. That didn’t stop him from walking the short distance to the door and letting her in.

  Christina’s gaze slid over him, her eyes widening when she really looked. He had a feeling that she didn’t miss anything, which could be dangerous.

  He rested against the closed door, his arms crossed in front of him. “To what do I owe the visit?”

  Christina nervously paced, her fingers tugging together. “You were right.”

  “About?”

  She stopped and faced him before she closed her eyes and inhaled. Exhaling, she met his gaze. “After a few days in the hospital, I suspected that Saige had no memory of you or your brother. She wasn’t talking about anything or to anyone. Richard figured it out.”

  Christina backed up and sat on the edge of the bed while he stayed by the door. He didn’t trust himself around her, and heaven knew what else she wanted to confess.

  “A few days after Saige had been found, the sheriff and detective wanted a statement from her, but we put them off. She wasn’t talking…I hated how the witch hunt took off after Quinten. I wanted to help but didn’t know how.