by Lisa Boone
Waiting.
Watching.
A shadowy figure in the dark.
Sarah turned a corner and entered a dark, dense forest.
Jamie was at the end of the trail. His back was turned toward her but she could tell it was he. If she could just make it to him, she’d be safe. He’d protect her.
Emboldened, she quickened her pace. A sense of hope filled her. He was so close. She called his name.
However, he didn’t turn around and inexplicably seemed to be getting further away from her the faster she ran.
She screamed for him, but still, he remained where he was as if he hadn’t heard her.
She didn’t dare look over her shoulder. She knew the man chasing her was very close. She could feel his breath on her shoulder and could hear his footsteps just behind her.
Heart pounding, she ran up the hill only to find Jamie had disappeared. Now, in a near panic, she turned around.
Sarah woke up screaming, her eyes screwed shut, struggling against the strong arms, which held her tightly.
“Sarah!” Jamie said somewhere just above her.
Her eyes snapped open.
Jamie cupped her cheek, his thumb wiping away her tears. “It’s all right. You’re okay.”
She looked around the room. “Alex …”
“He’s dead. He can’t hurt you anymore.” He hugged her, his lips sliding along her cheek to her ear. “I’m right here. I won’t let anyone hurt you. I promise.”
She turned her head towards him, accidentally brushing her lips against his.
She started to apologize, the words on the tip of her tongue, and then to her complete surprise, he kissed her back, gently, hesitantly at first, before pulling away. He leaned his head back, his fingers tracing her jaw line as he looked at her in wonder. Murmuring something about a mistake, he kissed her again, this time more passionately than before.
Sarah, lost in his kiss, wondering if she was still dreaming, kissed him back, her excitement growing with every caress.
Threading his hands through her hair, he deepened the kiss, leaving her breathless and clutching at his arms, only remembering too late to be gentle, as Jamie hissed in pain and jerked back and away from her.
This time the words of apology came flowing out of her as she sat up, checking the bandage around his arm. He waved her hands away, insisting he was fine as he laid back down.
“We should probably go back to sleep,” he said, moving away from her, both physically as well as emotionally. Breathing heavily, he said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that …” He looked away from her to the door. “I—I don’t want you to … to get the wrong idea or anything. I just wasn’t thinking.” The corner of his lips quirked up as he looked back at her. “I blame the pain meds.”
Sarah sighed in disappointment and frustration as she lay down next to him. She didn’t understand. He liked her, that much was obvious, so why did he keep pushing her away? Feeling tears prick the back of her eyes she turned over and faced the window, silently wiping away a tear.
“Sarah?”
When she didn’t answer he moved closer to her, wrapping his arms around her body and pulling her against his chest.
“Goodnight,” he whispered.
Not trusting her voice, she nodded before closing her eyes.
*
Jamie laid in the darkness holding Sarah close, waiting for her to fall asleep and cursing himself for making her cry, even though he didn’t quite understand why she was crying.
Must be the shock of everything that happened with her and her sister the last couple of days, he thought, tightening his arms protectively around her. Which more than likely explained the nightmare. He wasn’t quite sure when it had started.
When he had crawled out of bed a few minutes before, she had been sound asleep. He had been in the living room looking out the window when he heard her call his name. By the time he had reached the bedroom, she was screaming in terror, thrashing around in bed.
He buried his face in her hair. He shouldn’t have kissed her. She was obviously traumatized and kissing her did nothing except confuse her and make it more difficult for him to leave.
He took a deep breath, breathing her in as he lay there, trying to shut out the images playing through his mind and the feel of her in his arms.
He shouldn’t have kissed her.
Groaning, he rolled over on his back, urging himself to stand up, thinking that if he didn’t leave now, he’d never leave. Making sure not to wake her, he slipped his arm out from underneath her head and climbed out of the bed.
He stood there for a moment watching her as she slept, wishing more than anything he could crawl back in the bed and stay there with her.
Why not? A little voice whispered in his mind. Think of how nice it would be. She was what he wanted, dreamt about, prayed for. She was everything he ever wanted and it would be so nice to pretend she was his for a while.
He took a step back to the bed but stopped as his mind came up with reasons why staying would be a mistake.
It wouldn’t work, it said. They were too different. Not enough in common.
He rubbed his hand down his face as the litany wore on. You’d just be setting yourself up for failure. After all, if it was this difficult leaving her now after a little kiss, just think about how bad it would be if this continued and she’s finally tired of you, and she would eventually grow tired. How could she not. He was nothing and she was everything.
Why set yourself up to fail? Haven’t you had enough of that? You’re going to turn over a new leaf, remember? Do the right thing from now on, wasn’t it? The right thing is letting her go. She’s only infatuated because she thinks you’re a hero. Because she thinks she needs you to protect her. Once she realizes she safe, she won’t want you around any longer. If you stayed away, she’d find another guy pretty quick. A nice guy. One that can make her happy. Give her a nice normal life.
Have to be cruel to be kind.
He had never understood that phrase. In his experience, it was often just a justification to be cruel but … this was different.
Just need to give her some space, the voice whispered.
He picked his shirt off the chair in the bedroom and walked into the living room. He sat down on the couch, trying his best to convince himself he was doing the right thing for her by leaving. He was still there hours later, when the sound of a car pulling up to the cabin caught his attention.
By the time he had retrieved his rifle and pulled back the curtain, Brian Shaw was parked and approaching the door. It had been ten years since Jamie had seen the man but he recognized him immediately, even with a knit hat and a scarf covering half his face. You always recognize family, Jamie thought as he wrenched open the door before Brian could knock. “About time you got here. What took you so long?”
Brian pulled off his hat and gave Jamie a thoroughly disgusted look. “What took me so long?”
Shushing him, Jamie glanced over his shoulder. “Lower your voice,” he warned, quietly shutting the door.
Brian’s gaze briefly flickered to the bedroom door before returning to Jamie. He obediently lowered his voice. “Maybe it was the ten car pileup on Western Kentucky Parkway. Maybe it was the fact that two of my colleagues didn’t show up to work and I had to take their shifts. How about the pregnant lady who went into premature labor at the ER? Or maybe it was the kids who fell through the ice. Or I don’t know… how about the freaking blizzard outside and the one back road to this God forsaken place is partially blocked by a tree.” He removed his coat as he moved about the small room checking things out. “I got here as soon as I could.”
“All right, all right, I’m glad you finally made it. I was starting to worry.” Jamie scowled at his old friend, wondering if he was, in fact, still a friend. He had always thought of Brian as a brother, but ten years is a long time not to see someone. They had exchanged emails and phone calls back and forth through the years, but it wasn’t the same as b
eing in the same room with one another.
Brian dropped the black bag he was carrying on the table. “So, what’s wrong with you?” he asked as he ran a hand through his black hair, smoothing it back into place.
“Nothing, I’m fine.”
“Yeah, I can tell. You look like you’re about to pass out at any moment.”
Jamie shrugged lightly. “I’m running a slight fever and I was shot last night.”
“Shot?” Brian’s brown eyes flashed in anger. “What have you gotten yourself into this time? I thought you were trying to go straight. Turn your life around.”
“Lower your voice,” Jamie hissed. “I don’t want to wake her up.”
Brian glanced back at the bedroom door. “The girl who called me just told me that you were hurt. She didn’t say anything about you being shot.”
“Hurt, shot, same thing.”
Brian looked like he was about to argue but instead motioned for Jamie to come to the table. “Come on; let me take a look at you.”
“Let’s do this back in town.”
Brian gave him a look of exasperation. “You brought me all the way out here because you need my help, so sit down and shut up.”
Jamie arched an eyebrow as he sank down in the chair. “Is this how you treat your patients?”
“No, this is how I treat you,” he said helping Jamie remove his shirt.
“Well?” he asked after Brian had removed the bandage and inspected his arm.
“You’ve got a fever and you’ve been shot.”
“I’m so glad you made it here to tell me that. I’ve been wondering all day what was wrong with me. What are you going to do about it?” he hissed.
“Oh relax. It’s a superficial wound.”
“I beg to differ.”
“You’ll live. It looks like it passed all the way through. I’m more worried about your fever,” he said pressing a hand against Jamie’s forehead. “You may have some bits and pieces of your clothing in there causing an infection.” He dug through his bag, removing a bottle of antiseptic and gauze. “You should feel honored. I don’t normally make house calls.”
Jamie hissed in pain as Brian began cleaning his wound. “Ow. Do you know what you’re doing?”
“Do I ask you how to kill people?” Brian said snidely.
“No, I figured they would have taught you that in med school,” Jamie snapped back.
“Oh, just relax. When we get back to the hospital—”
“No hospital,” Jamie said through clenched teeth.
“Why?”
Jamie started to answer, but then stopped as a coughing fit took over. When he could breathe again, he said, “You’d have to report that I’ve been shot.”
Brian gave him a look as he bandaged Jamie’s arm. “Yeah, so?”
“I somehow don’t think my probation officer would be too happy about that. They might start asking questions. Questions I don’t want to answer.”
“It might be getting infected,” Brian said in a warning tone of voice.
“I’m not going back to prison, Brian.”
“All right, we’ll go back to my place.” He lifted his head, his eyes going glassy for a moment. “Or I could take you to Kristen’s.” He grinned. “She’s mad at you, by the way.”
Jamie looked at him with a frown. “Kristen? When did you talk to Kristen? I thought you were trying to avoid everyone but Phoebe now that you’re a respectable doctor. Don’t want to hobnob with the criminal element.”
“Well, that was the plan, but I didn’t have much choice when Nathan carried Kristen into the ER last night. It’s like old home week. The whole gang was all there minus you and …” He paused as a flicker of emotion crossed his face “Anyway, almost everyone was there. You know, I’m not too happy about this. The last thing I wanted to be is a doctor for the mob.”
“Oh, please, this isn’t the mob. It’s more like a club of wannabes. It has no teeth now that all the old-timers are in jail or dead.”
“They have Danny and Moose.”
“The gruesome twosome couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn.”
“What about you? They still keep you around.”
“Haven’t you heard yet? I’m a drunk. A slob. I can’t even be trusted anymore.”
“Then why do they let you hang around?”
“For old time’s sake. Probably to make themselves feel better. Occasionally, Nathan or Kristen—mostly Kristen—will throw money my way if they start feeling sorry for me. It’s part of their new image to be charitable.”
Brian grunted as he helped Jamie dress. “Sounds like you’re building quite a life for yourself here. If you’re truly interested in starting over, why don’t you leave?”
“You know why? I’m not leaving until I find out who killed Robin and framed me.” He gave Brian a look. “I’m starting to think I’m the only one interested in finding her killer.”
Brian’s face turned hard. “I’m just as interested as you. More so.”
“Oh really? Were you able to find any information from that fancy med school that you went to?”
“I’m back, aren’t I?”
“And doing your best to avoid anyone who might know who murdered her and why.”
Brian shoved the supplies he brought back into his bag. “How many months have you been here now? Nine? Ten? More than enough time to find the killer. Do you have any suspects yet?”
Jamie regarded his old friend carefully. “Only the same as usual,” he said before his cough took over again.
“How long have you had that cough?”
“Since Thanksgiving.”
“Have you gone to see a doctor?”
“I’m doing it right now.”
Brian rolled his eyes.
“I was finally getting over it but last night brought it back.” After a moment, Jamie said, “You still haven’t told me why Kristen’s mad at me?”
“You don’t know?”
“Would I’ve asked if I knew?”
“Well, excuse me, but I just figured you were probably a part of it considering you’re sitting here bleeding on me.”
“Would you just tell me what’s wrong with Kristen?”
“Someone tried to kill Kristen and Nathan last night—” He checked his watch. “Or rather the night before during their New Year’s Eve party. Shot up their pub. Luckily, no one was hit. Most of the injuries were from the falling glass. It sounds like whoever did it shot high. Scared one of the poor waitresses half to death. Poor girl passed out and didn’t wake up until we were examining her. Kristen’s a nervous wreck. She’s convinced that she and Phoebe were the intended target.”
Jamie’s gaze flickered to the bedroom door. Another reason to stay away from Sarah. Maybe if he left she would move on and find some other place to work. He grabbed his boots from near the door and sat back down. “Does Nathan have any idea who could have taken a hit out on them?”
“Nah, he thinks it was just a random drive-by. Teenagers. It’s Kristen who thinks they were specifically targeted. Personally, I think—” He paused as Jamie began coughing again.
Closing his eyes, Jamie balanced his elbows on his knees and dropped his head to his chest in exhaustion. He rubbed a hand across his face too tired even to think. “Is Kristen all right?”
“She’s fine but she wants your head on a silver platter.”
Jamie stared at his boots for a moment, trying to draw enough energy to put them on. He took a breath and slipped his foot inside his boot.
“Phoebe’s not too thrilled with you either and she’s your biggest fan.”
“Why? What did I do? I wasn’t even there.”
“That’s the problem. You were supposed to be there. They said you had promised to attend their little soiree.”
Jamie reached for his other boot. “Something came up.”
“Nathan was expecting you to talk to that producer.”
“What producer?”
“You don’t know?”
<
br /> Jamie glared at his friend.
“All right. All right. I don’t know all the details—Phoebe was sworn to secrecy—but apparently someone from Hollywood is thinking about filming a TV show about Robin’s death. One of those real-life crime documentaries. Nathan, Kristen and Phoebe have all signed off on the project.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Jamie made a face. “I’m surprised Kristen and Phoebe agreed to talk to anyone about the murder. I thought they were trying to put the past behind them.”
“Robin was their sister,” Brian said. “They may not have shown it but they loved her. It’s got to have been eating away at them all these years, not knowing who killed her. I think they’re ready to do something about it now. They think that maybe the TV show will bring out some new piece of evidence that no one knows about. The whole show hinges on your involvement though, and New Year’s Eve was supposed to be the meet and greet.”
“No wonder they didn’t tell me.”
“Kristen thinks Robin’s killer was sending them a warning to drop it. She’s scared to death and furious at you. She’s got it into her head that you could have prevented the shootout from happening, apparently, just by virtue of being there. Phoebe’s mad because she thinks you’re avoiding her.”
Jamie looked surprised. “I’m not avoiding her. It’s just that something came up. Tell Phoebe that I’m sorry and that I’ll see her when she comes back for the summer. She’s got another year of college, hasn’t she?”
“She quit.”
“Why?”
“She’s homesick, Jamie. She’s been complaining about the weather since she moved to Michigan. It’s just as well. I didn’t like the idea of her being all alone up there. I’m going to see if I can get her classes transferred to one of the colleges nearby so she can finish her degree here. She was all excited to be back home until last night happened.” His gaze shifted back to the bedroom door. “So, why weren’t you at the New Year’s Eve party?”
“I told you, something—”
“—came up,” Brian finished for him, his gaze flickering to the bedroom door. “Well, you should have called and let them know you couldn’t make it. It would have been the polite thing.”