by Laura Wright
“How’d you know she was at the C?” Deacon asked when they got there.
“Told you.” He pointed to his eyes with his middle and pointer finger. “Like a hawk.”
Deacon sniffed. “Right. So where is she right now, my feathered friend?”
“Right in there.” Shiver pointed out the window, across the street to the movie theater. “Went in about ten minutes ago. Seeing the early show.”
Deacon’s lip curled, the irony of where that woman was not at all lost on him. The very movie theater that Cass had been taken from. No doubt by Natalie Palmer. I swear to God, that woman is going to live out the rest of her life behind bars if it’s the last thing I do. “Why aren’t you in there too?” he pushed. “Watching the movie a few rows behind her?”
Deputy Shiver shrugged. “Didn’t like the books, not interested in the movie.”
“So you’re just going to hang out in the hardware store for two hours?” he said with barely disguised aggression. “That’s dedication.”
“I think so.”
“And the sheriff is okay with this level of commitment?”
“The sheriff is on his way to New Orleans,” Shiver revealed, a slow smile spreading across his features.
Deacon stilled. “What?”
Shiver’s grin widened. “Yup.”
“He’s going to talk to the NOLA police?” That’s where Deacon’s PI was right now too. Deac hadn’t expected anyone to really follow up on the new information. This surprised him. Truly.
“That and meeting with people in Palmer’s department, in that other parish,” Shiver said. “About the alibi.”
Again, surprised. And confused. “Why are you doing this?”
Shiver gave him a look like, What do you think? “Justice.”
“I can’t believe that’s the only reason,” Deacon countered. “Don’t misunderstand me, I’m grateful for it. But it’s taken a helluva long time, effort, and bitching to bring this case back up in this town. So I’m curious.”
Steven glanced out the window, stared at the theater for a few seconds, then turned back. “Listen, I’ve read everything your man found out about Natalie Palmer. Reread the files from your sister’s disappearance. Those diary entries. I’m worried about my sister. You know what I’m saying?”
Deacon’s chest constricted again, but he managed a quick, “I do.”
The man nodded. “I figured.”
“Hell, I’d be standing here too.”
The deputy’s eyes shuttered as he stared at Deacon. “You know, that wasn’t your fault. The movie theater. That was just kids being kids. Could’ve happened anywhere, anytime—to anyone.”
Shit, the guy sounded like Mac. How many times had his wife said those words? And how many times had he struggled to believe them? “I tell myself that all the time, Deputy. But if something happened to Emily that you could’ve prevented, would you be able to forgive yourself?”
Jaw tight, Shiver blew out a breath. “That’s why I’m here, brother. That’s why I’m acting the hawk.” He turned back to face the window. “We’re going to get her. Sooner or later she’s going to show her hand. And when she does, we’re all going to make sure she never hurts anyone else again.”
* * *
It was so much easier to navigate her way in the daytime. Last time she was here, it was very much night, and very dark, and drunk Blue was no help at all. She smiled to herself. At least until they’d gotten to the river house. Then he’d scooped her up, tossed her over his shoulder, and carried her inside. She’d laughed at his caveman ways. Hadn’t stopped laughing until he set her on her feet, stared into her eyes, then promptly kissed the hell out of her.
The flower, though dried, was tucked behind her ear as she descended the hill. It probably looked ridiculous, but she didn’t care. It meant so much that he’d kept it. All this time. It was a very grand gesture. And one she believed was his way of asking for a fresh start.
Her heart beat wildly in her chest as she hurried across the path and up the stairs to the porch. The door was left ajar, ready, waiting for her.
“Blue?” she called out as she walked inside. “It’s me.” She couldn’t stop smiling. She was like a flippin’ teenager.
No answer greeted her. She glanced around. It looked exactly the same. Neat, fresh, welcoming.
“I got your note . . . and the flower.” She grinned again to herself as she headed into the living room. “You romantic man, you. I can’t believe you kept it all this—”
“He didn’t,” came a woman’s voice.
Her heart slamming into her gut, Emily whirled around and came face-to-face with Natalie Palmer. And her gun.
Natalie smiled. “I did.”
The breath had left Emily’s body, but her mind was zinging with thoughts, fears, questions. Was Blue even here? Had Natalie really been the one who’d sent the flower? And how . . . Goddammit! Why was she thinking any of this when a gun was being pointed at her?
“I’m so sorry,” Natalie said, her expression pitying. She looked perfect, like she’d just come out of a salon: makeup lovely, light blue dress, pressed . . . and was that an apron she was wearing . . . ? “I’m sure it’s difficult to realize that you don’t mean as much to a person as you thought you did,” she continued. “One night of drunken sex doesn’t make a relationship, Emily. Didn’t your mother teach you that?”
Mother. She was going to be a mother. Think, Emily Elisabeth Shiver. Think and stay calm. How do you get out of this alive? Because you have to.
“I don’t have anything against you, really,” Natalie said as she started circling Emily, like a wolf inspecting its prey. “It’s just you took something that didn’t belong to you.”
“I had no idea Blue belonged to you or anyone,” Emily began, trying like hell to keep the fear out of her voice. But it was there. How could it not be?
“I think you did,” Natalie countered with a tinge of anger. “When I came to that apartment you’re renting, you seemed knowledgeable on the subject of Blue and me.”
Shit. She wasn’t prepared for this. Quick thinking, lifesaving . . . “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll back off.”
Natalie laughed softly. It was a terrifyingly mad sound. “You all say that. But you never do.”
You all . . . Emily’s heart was beating so fiercely in her chest it hurt. God, how many have there been?
“I thought the flyers would make Blue see what a whore you are,” she continued. “Realize that there’s a very good chance he’s not the father of whatever you have in there.” She gestured to Emily’s belly with the gun.
Sick dread flooded Emily and she instinctively wrapped her arms around her stomach. And though fear wanted desperately to claim her, the idea of this bitch hurting her child was enough to force her to stay clear, stay present. She could dive behind the couch, crawl out on her hands and knees. She could make a break for Blue’s bedroom—but was there a lock on it? She didn’t know. She didn’t know.
Natalie shook her head, kept the gun aimed at Emily. “But he’s determined to stand by you.” She smiled. “That’s Blue. Such a good man. Treated so badly by other people. But not me. He relied on me. I was his friend, his rock. I was there for him when he needed someone. And I . . .” Her voice faltered and she stopped moving. Her hand shook a little. “I was supposed to be his lover. Not you.”
Think. Think, goddamn you! “You said it yourself, didn’t you?” She glanced behind herself. The door was still ajar. Could she make it? How good was this bitch’s aim? “It was one drunken night. He’d just come from that fight with you. I’m sure he wanted to be with you.”
Her face brightened. “Really? You think so?” She cocked her head and smiled. “That is so nice of you to admit.”
Natalie Palmer was fucking nuts. But keep going. Whatever you can say to stall, do it.
Emily sort of shifted to the right, closer to the door and forced a pout. “You know, he hasn’t slept with me since. I’m sure that’s be
cause of you. I know he misses you.”
Natalie’s face fell. “That’s not what he says. He doesn’t want me anywhere near him.” Her eyes narrowed on Emily, and then she started walking toward her.
Emily stepped back.
“He’s never going to see me while you’re around,” Natalie lamented.
Her breath coming shallow now, Emily continued to back up. What can I use? Pottery on the table . . . Base of a lamp . . .
Her thoughts, plans, hopes were all cut short. She gasped, cried out as the barrel of Natalie’s gun pressed into her stomach. She froze. No. No. Not there. You’re not going to do this to me, to Blue—to our baby.
“We can’t take too long,” Natalie whispered as she moved once again, dragging the gun around Emily’s side until she was behind her. “Your brother thinks I’m watching a movie.” She laughed, her hot breath near Emily’s ear as she shoved the gun hard into her lower back. “He’s been following me, you know? I think he might like me. Blue won’t be happy about that.”
Emily’s mind fought to register what the woman was saying. Steven was watching her? How would he know . . . ? Maybe that was a lie, a delusion, too. Even so, she kept Natalie talking. “How did you get out of the movie without him seeing?”
Natalie Palmer leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Same way as before.”
Emily stilled as understanding dawned hard and heavy, then tears pricked at her eyes. “With Cass.”
“I really liked Cass. We could’ve been friends. Same with you and me—if you hadn’t been such a whore.” She inhaled deeply, then pressed the gun even deeper into Emily’s back. “Now, walk. Right into the bedroom. I’m sure you know where that is.”
Emily didn’t move. “Why in there?” she asked, her breathing shallow.
“Because that, my could’ve-been friend, is where you’re going to kill yourself.”
Twenty-eight
“Do you want the C?”
Seated in a booth all by himself, James glanced up from his Coke and stared at his half brother. “What are we talking about?” he said loudly. The Bull’s Eye was pretty packed.
“Deacon has his land,” Blue said impatiently. “Cole has the gym and the house with Grace. You’re the only one who’s left. You have the mustangs to see to. I know you and Sheridan have been discussing it.”
“We have,” James admitted, still looking as though he didn’t quite understand where they were going here. “Granted, we don’t live in River Black in any permanent way. But there are roots we want to plant . . .” He studied Blue for a moment. “You want the Triple. That’s no secret. And I’d say probably more so than any of us. More than anything—seems like.”
The point stung Blue a little. Not so long ago, he would’ve agreed with James. The Triple’s belonging to him had been his everything—especially right after Everett’s death and the will, and the truth. Shit, it had been all he could cling to. It had been him feeling both close to his father—and his brothers—and like he held something over them too. A punishment of sorts . . . He shook his head. So fucked up. But life can change in an instant. Perspective too. And true love brought about healing, unburdened a weary soul.
He gave James a straight look. “Only thing I want is Emily Shiver.”
The man’s brows drifted up. “Wow.”
“Yep,” Blue told him. He glanced around then, looking for her. He thought her shift started at eleven, but he didn’t see her anywhere. Must’ve gotten the time wrong. He turned back to James. “I got a deal for you. You give me the space you just bought, and I’ll sign over my share of the Triple to you. With Cole and Deacon doing the same, it’ll be yours in an hour.”
“Wait,” James said, baffled. “Are you talking about the tiny office space? The one with the apartment above it that I rented to Emily?”
“That’s the one,” Blue confirmed.
“You can’t be serious. That’s an incredibly bad business choice.”
Blue didn’t give a good goddamn about business or money. None of that mattered. All that mattered was to show Emily that he wanted her, loved her, had her back, and understood and supported her dreams. He wanted to show her he’d released the past and was ready to embrace the future. With her . . . and their baby.
Blue stuck out his hand. “All I ask is that you keep me on as a cowboy.”
James shook Blue’s hand, but not enthusiastically. “I don’t get this,” James said. “What about you? Emily and the baby? Where are you going to live?”
“I thought the river house would suit us just fine. If there’s an ‘us’ to be had,” he added dryly. He prayed she’d forgive his bullshit, his pulling away, his fear. He’d do anything to make her believe he’d changed. He saw things different. Maybe Elena could put in a word . . . That made him grin a bit.
James was staring at him. “You’re seriously in love with her. Like over the moon, ball and chain—”
“Life and death? Heart and soul?” Blue cut in. “I am.” He gave James a questioning look. “So what’s your answer?”
James opened his mouth, but before he could say a word, a voice rang out behind them, “She sick or something?”
Both James and Blue turned to see the manager of the Bull’s Eye coming toward them.
“Howdy, Dean,” James said, giving the man a nod.
He acknowledged James, then turned to Blue, “Emily sick? She usually calls if she’s sick.”
“What do you mean?”
“She was supposed to be here at eleven.”
A thread of unease moved through Blue. He looked at his watch. “It’s almost noon.”
“Exactly,” Dean said. “She’s never been late. Never not called. It’s not like her.”
Unease upgraded to stone-cold fear. Blue turned to James. “You got keys to her apartment? I only have the downstairs one.”
Knowing exactly what he meant, James scrambled out of the booth, his face ashen. “Let’s go.”
* * *
The wave after wave of terror running through Emily threatened to steal her mind, her instincts. But she couldn’t allow that. Couldn’t give in to it. She had to protect the baby. It was the only thought that kept her from breaking, falling to her knees, and begging for her life.
With the butt of the gun pressed between her shoulder blades, Emily kept talking, kept trying to reason with the insane person behind her.
“Blue won’t believe I killed myself,” she uttered, eyeing an empty vase on the dresser in Blue’s bedroom, then a roping trophy on the nightstand. It looked heavy. Probably made of iron.
“He will,” Natalie insisted, forcing her toward the bed. “After he reads the note you left him, anyway.”
“I didn’t leave . . .” She stopped. Exhaled shakily. “What does my note say?”
“That the baby isn’t his.”
They came up alongside the bed. Near the trophy. Closer. She could do this. God, she prayed she could do this. But one wrong move and a bullet went into her spine, or worse.
“They’ll do an autopsy,” Emily told her. “The baby is his.”
Natalie made a strange sound, like a growl. “All he’ll know is that you thought it wasn’t. That you were fucking several people and were devastated because you had no idea who the father was.” She raised the gun suddenly and jammed it into Emily’s shoulder. “Now. Lie down on your back. You know how to do that, don’t you, whore?”
Now. Do it now. If you get on that mattress, you’re dead. Baby is dead.
“Now!” Natalie commanded.
In one quick movement, Emily lunged for the trophy. With a grunt, she whirled around and slammed the thing directly into Natalie’s face. The gun went off, a bullet zooming past Emily’s shoulder to hit the wall. Someone screamed. Christ, it was probably herself. She didn’t know. She didn’t care. She didn’t stop to think or assess. She raised the trophy and brought it down again—this time on Natalie’s hand, then straight back up into her jaw.
Something cracked. Bones mayb
e?
The gun fell to the floor.
Followed by Natalie herself.
Panic swirled within Emily. She dove for the gun, then stood up and trained it on the woman’s unmoving body. Tears were streaming down her face. Her hands were shaking. But she didn’t move. This bitch wanted to kill her child. That was fucking never going to happen. And if she even tried to—
“Emily!” someone shouted.
She didn’t move. She forced her hands to stay steady. She stared.
“Holy shit!” Another voice.
She didn’t listen. She was ready.
“Emily!”
The rush of people in the room didn’t faze her. Fine, bring them all. She had this. She had it under control.
“Emily, honey.” It was Blue.
Emily’s mind started to go fuzzy, her vision unfocused, hazy. Had she killed Natalie Palmer? Had she killed someone to save her baby? Was that okay? Was she okay?
“She killed Cass,” Emily hissed, though she wasn’t sure it was out loud. “She told me. She took her from the movie theater . . . I won’t let her kill my baby . . .”
Suddenly the gun was eased from her shaking hands, and someone was pulling her into their arms. Blue. She recognized him. His scent. His warmth. He was holding her tight and fierce.
“Oh God, darlin’,” he uttered. “Are you all right? Are you hurt? Jesus fucking Christ!”
“She’s alive.”
Was that Steven? Her brother was here too. Oh that was good . . .
“She’ll need to go to the hospital to get stitched up,” he said. “But damn, Emily did a number on her. She won’t be looking pretty for that life sentence in prison.”
It was the last thing anyone said that registered. Emily’s mind shut down and she just sagged against Blue and let the tears come.
Twenty-nine
“I’m never letting you out of my sight again, Emily Shiver,” Blue announced as they walked out of the hospital hand in hand and headed for the car.
“Sounds impractical,” she answered, with a trace of her natural humor. She was tired, kind of wrecked, but it felt good to banter again.
“Maybe,” he said. “But I’m going to do my best.” He stopped in the middle of the parking lot and turned to face her, his hands going to her cheeks. “When James and I found that box, that note in your apartment . . . when I put two and two together . . .” His eyes searched hers. “I’ve never known that kind of fear, Em. Like my heart had exploded inside my chest. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t bear it . . .” He leaned in and kissed her gently, then pulled back, worry etching his handsome features. “Shit, did I hurt you? I don’t know where that maniac touched you . . .”