“Yeah, I remember when that happened,” Howard confirmed. It had been a big deal at the time, and it had been a very public battle. “Ugly divorce.”
“Yeah well, did you know that Johnson has a son?”
Howard looked a bit shocked. “No, the man never mentioned a son.”
“Well, he had him out of wedlock with another woman, so I'm sure he wasn't too proud about it. Apparently, his wife was angry when she found out after twenty years of marriage and decided to call it quits.”
Shaking his head, he said, “I never knew. I thought that it was just “irreconcilable differences.”
“Yeah, well it was kept under wraps pretty tight. The guy who told me could get in a bit of trouble if anyone found out.”
She hoped that that was code for keeping his mouth shut.
“Sure,” he told her. “So, what's so special about Johnson's son?”
“For one thing, there's his name: Alexander J. W. Clark. Apparently, he took his mother's last name.”
Howard almost looked like he was going to choke on his coffee.
“Please tell me what the middle initials stand for?”
Alexis sighed, rubbing her temples.
“No one knows. I looked at the courthouse's records, but everything just has the initials. If I could get a hold of his taxes or actual birth certificate, maybe I could figure it out. But if he wasn't born in the state, I'm not sure the birth certificate will be found.”
“Damn,” Howard said, rubbing at his jawline. She had noticed that he hadn't shaved that morning. He was obviously stressed. “So, hypothetically, what if the J. W. stands for James Walker?”
“Honestly, I was thinking the same thing. If James Walker is Johnson's son, it would make some sort of sick sense of why Johnson is doing what he is doing. He could be protecting him. Alexander even fits the age description that was given.”
“So, what the hell do we do?” Howard asked. “It's not like I could start investigating Johnson without some sort of backlash. Plus, this is all conjecture. There's no proof. And the things I would need to do to get the proof—like, let's say, a warrant—would alert Johnson.”
“So, we'll get proof another way,” Alexis told him, staring at his face.
As much as she didn't want to invite Howard back into her life, there was a lot at stake here. If Chief Johnson was protecting James Walker, it would be the largest level of corruption that Charlotte or Mecklenburg County had ever seen.”
“We'll get more proof?”
She almost wanted to roll her eyes the way he said, “We'll.” She caught herself though.
“Yes, we'll do it...together. I want a chance to nail both.”
Howard smiled, holding out his hand over the table.
“Okay, partner.”
She held out her hand and met his in a firm handshake.
“So, what do we do now?” She asked him.
“Dig up more on Johnson and Walker,” he said. “We can meet again later. I'll talk a little bit more with my FBI friend. At this point, I'm going to have to go way over Johnson's head on this one.”
“I'll keep digging too,” she told him.
“Great.”
“Great.”
She was waiting for him to realize what he was still doing.
“Detective?”
“Yeah.”
“I think you can release my hand now.” She pointed with her free hand to where he still had her hand in his firm grasp.
“Yeah, sure,” he said with a wink.
Chapter 11
Monday, May 25
3:33 PM
Brian was going crazy. The book was going along slowly. He had tried exercising to clear his mind and get him focused back on his book. However, the only thing he wanted to think about was the young woman who was currently hiding out in his guesthouse. She hadn't left since he had delivered her to the house on Sunday morning. He hadn't even seen movement from the guesthouse. She always had the curtains completely drawn.
He wanted to see her again, but he didn't want to seem desperate—or seem like a stalker. He wanted her to be comfortable around him. Brian had thought that she was starting to relax with him Saturday night, but then in the morning, she had freaked again. He wanted her to trust him. He wanted to take away the pain that he had seen in her eyes, whether it be from an illness or something else.
Brian had never been so twisted up over a woman before. With all the women he had dated, had slept with, Freya felt so different, so special. Not that he could act on his feeling right now. He was trying to figure out a way to ask Joe's permission to date her. He certainly wouldn't push anything with her without consulting Joe. The man was intimidating when he wanted to be.
He stared out the window at his guesthouse, thinking. Just because he wouldn't push a romance without Joe's blessing, didn't mean that he couldn't stop by and say hello. In fact, he figured she could use some time to get out of the guesthouse. Perhaps he'd invite her for a walk? Get her to leave her seclusion for a bit? It was turning out to be a beautiful day in the mountains. It was warm enough to not need a coat.
Deciding he liked that idea, Brian found the pair of his black leather trail shoes and slipped them on below a pair of well-worn jeans. He decided against a jacket, thinking it would get too warm while walking, so it would just be a light gray t-shirt that stretched over his muscles quite nicely. Yeah, maybe he wanted to show them off a little for her. He busted his ass to stay in that type of shape.
It was a quick walk over to the guesthouse. When he knocked on the door, he could hear muffled movement from inside. However, it took a while for the door to crack open ever so slightly. Freya's head peered out, and there was an odd look on her face as if something was wrong.
“Hey, I was wondering if you'd like to get out and go for a little walk,” he told her, trying to keep his voice low and reassuring. “It's a nice day out. It would be a shame to waste it inside all day.”
For a moment, he thought he had everything in the bag.
Then she suddenly said, “No.”
“No?”
He stood at the doorstep, trying to process what she had just said.
“Look, if you're not feeling up to it, we can take a rain check.”
“No,” she told him again.
“No?” He asked, starting to feel desperate.
He couldn't remember the last time a woman had turned him down for anything.
“No...” He repeated, trailing off.
What else was he supposed to say?
“No rain check. Not with you.” Her voice was cold.
She was about to shut the door when he spoke up, “Wait, can I come in for a moment?”
“It's your house,” she told him. “Do what you want.
“And you're my guest. I'm not going to be an asshole here.”
He could barely see her face from where she was hiding behind the door, but he knew she looked angry, hurt even. What had he done to warrant this type of behavior from her?
“You can come in...for a moment. But I'm not going to be like one of the others.”
“The others...” He murmured, his voice trailing off.
Then, he finally got it. The other women. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. Sometime between when he had taken her back to the house Sunday morning and now, she had done a little digging. And, of course, she would find some things that a girl like her would not want to hear.
He didn't wait for her to open the door. He barged in, his blood pressure rising. He was both pissed and desperate. And he wasn't even sure if it was at her or himself. Most likely himself, but he was angry.
“Doing a little digging around in my personal life, are we?” He asked, his tone a little harsher than he had wanted.
His eyes involuntarily looked to where she was standing in the entryway. She was wearing another pair of sweats, her hair cascading around the hood of the sweatshirt. How she could pull off being so fucking beautiful in a pair of sweats, he had no clue.
“It's not personal if it's plastered all over the Internet,” she countered.
Shit, he needed to get himself together before she was permanently out of his life.
“Look, Freya...”
“Tell me,” she cut him off. “If I hadn't fallen asleep Saturday night, would you have tried to...”
“No!” Brian exclaimed. “I'd never do something like that to you. Freya, you've got to understand that...the things that you've read about me. That's not me.”
“It doesn't matter. You're not my type anyhow,” she told him.
Then, she laughed. It wasn't laughter as if someone had just told a joke. It was sarcastic and bitter.
“Of course, I'm just assuming that you're even interested in me. I don't know if you even like me.” Then he heard her mumble something like, “Out of my league.”
He couldn't tell for sure, but he was starting to get the picture. She was jealous and hurt. Of course, Freya Morgan wasn't the type to jump into bed with any man, but that was what he liked about her. If he wanted her in his life, he was going to have to come clean with her.
“All you need to know is that I care about you, and I'd like to get to know you more. Honestly, those other women...I surrounded myself with them so that I didn't have to live with myself—for the things that I've done...in the military.”
Her face suddenly softened as all the anger had washed out of her.
“You're running from the past too,” she said quietly.
“Something like that,” he told her.
It was strange to be having this conversation with someone other than his psychologist back at the VA.
“I've got some issues that I'm still dealing with, and I guess that I used women—and some other things—to try and escape from them. But it's not working for me anymore, so I'm trying to change.”
“Am I supposed to be a part of that change?” She asked quietly.
“I'd honestly like that very much,” he told her, a sense of hope coming back. Maybe she wasn’t going to shut herself out of his life as he had feared? “And if I'm not your ‘type,’ then at least let me be your friend.”
She put a hand to her mouth, and her face grew red as if she were suddenly embarrassed.
“I didn't mean it like that,” she mumbled. “I was talking about the way you date women. You're very...attractive...”
He grinned and said, “Well, my mother always thought so, but a mother always has to say that to her son, right?”
For a moment, she looked as if she didn't know how to take what he had just said. Then, she tried to control a smile that was starting to form on her face.
“Yeah,” she said. “I guess parents have to tell you that.”
Before there was a chance for her mood to change, Brian grabbed her hand and said, “Here, get your shoes. You're getting out of the house. I swear you must have been a hermit in a previous life.”
For a moment, she looked like she was going to say no and pull away from him, but she finally murmured, “Okay.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, Brian said a silent prayer as he watched her slip on her shoes.
Lord, please do not let me screw this up.
3:55 PM
What are you doing? Freya silently yelled at herself as Brian Ash led her down a path that moved away from the main house.
She had spent the last twenty-four hours crying “woe is me” and generally being pissed at Brian and herself for being so weak. Now, he had come in like a shining knight and swept her up as if she were some googly-eyed, dim-witted princess. She still wasn't sure how he had come in and said all the right words, but something he had said had clicked with her. Maybe it was the line about running from the past? She would at least let this play out until she knew for certain what type of man he was. Regardless of how pissed she was at his past, it wasn't like he had lied to her. She still had no reason not to trust him. Plus, why would her father send her to someone shady?
She sighed as she tried to keep up with the pace that he had set. He was in much better shape than she was (it was obvious by the way his muscles bulged from his shirt). Freya was already huffing and puffing, and he hadn't even broken a sweat. The whole ordeal was starting to make her realize that locking herself up in a room or a house probably wasn't healthy for her. Maybe she should get out a little more as Brian had been suggesting?
“I want you to see this clearing over here,” he told her. “It's an amazing view.”
She followed him, gasping for breath. She was starting to feel tired, but she didn't want to seem so weak. If she hadn't already been trying to catch her breath, the view would have taken it away. It certainly was beautiful: the Carolina mountains, the late afternoon sun. She wanted to comment on them, but Brian looked at her with concern.
“Are you feeling okay?” He asked, concern filling his voice.
It made her think that he did perhaps care about her in some way.
“Yeah,” she breathed. “I'm fine.”
“You don't look fine,” he told her. “Here, sit down.” He pointed to a large, flat rock that stuck out from the ground. When she complied, he continued, “You look pale.”
“Probably my...medication,” she said, trying to catch her breath.
And the fact that I don't get out much, she thought.
“Here, let's rest a bit, and then I'm taking you back. Do you need me to call a doctor?”
“No, no, no,” she protested. “I'm fine. Just need to rest.”
He didn't exactly look convinced, but he let it pass.
“Sure,” he said, sitting on another outcropping of rock next to her.
“So, what exactly did you do in the military?” She asked suddenly. “You said you were a Ranger. Isn't that like big-time stuff?”
The fact that he was still in awesome shape and the comment back at the guesthouse had piqued her interest even more.
“Well, uh,” he said, beginning to look uncomfortable. “Actually, I was a sniper.”
“Oh,” she replied.
She hadn't quite expected that from him. Of course, the next question that she wanted to ask was, “Did you kill anyone?” But she decided against it. He probably was asked that all the time and never really wanted to answer it.
“Yeah, it always makes people nervous. Don't know why. Maybe they're uncomfortable with the fact that I can kill so friggin' efficiently.”
Okay, now she just had to ask, saying, “And you've killed before?”
He nodded.
“It's not something I usually talk about, but I wanted you to know. I'm not making excuses for myself, but I guess I wanted you to know why my life is so messed up in some places.”
She almost wanted to tell him at that moment, tell him about how she was brutalized, tell him why she had a hard time facing each day. But she stopped herself. He was a nice man, despite some of his choices in women. She didn't want him to know how screwed up she was. She wanted it to be just like it was now with him looking at her like she was a regular person and not broken.
“So how about we go back to the main house, and I make you something to eat?”
Food was far from her mind, but she didn't want to go back to the guesthouse alone just yet. And she was kind of enjoying her time with Brian.
“Sure,” she said and tried to smile.
He got up and offered a hand to help her up. As she accepted, she wondered why it felt so easy to let him touch her when the thought of it from anyone else made her shake in fear.
Chapter 12
Thursday, June 4
5:46 PM
Freya towel-dried her hair after she stepped out of the shower. It was now over a week that she had gone out walking with Brian. It had become somewhat of a routine for them. He'd knock on her door in the late afternoon after he spent some time working on his book, and they'd go out walking together.
The first couple of days had been hard for her, but now she wasn't out of breath so much, so she could enjoy it a little more. Aft
er they went for their walk, they went back to their respective houses, showered, and then met back up at the main house where Brian would cook her something amazing. Monday, which had been Memorial Day, he had cooked hamburgers and hot dogs. Today, he told her he'd do pasta. With all the good food and exercise, she was starting to feel better about herself. She didn't feel like such a shell anymore.
Suddenly, she heard her pre-paid cellphone ringing from the bedroom. Knowing that it was her father, she ran out to get it, still with just a towel wrapped around her.
“Dad,” she answered.
He made it a point to call her at least once a day to check up on her.
“Hey, sweetheart. How are you doing?” He asked her from the other end of the line.
“Good,” she answered. “I'm good.”
For the first time in a long time, it wasn't a lie to make her father feel better. She felt...good.
“I just wanted to let you know that I'll be popping by this Sunday to see how you're doing,” he told her. “And to get you some groceries,” he added. “Because I know that you're getting low.”
She had barely touched any of the groceries he had bought her. She hadn't needed to dig into them too much because of all the cooking Brian had been doing for her.
“Um,” she mumbled. “I'm pretty good, except for fresh produce.”
“Oh, Lord. Freya, please tell me that you've been eating.”
“Oh, no,” she told him. “I've been eating well...”
She had neglected to tell him that she had started spending time with Brian. She knew her father was super-overprotective after what had happened to her. She didn't want her father to jump to the conclusion that Brian was trying to put the moves on her, especially knowing Brian's previous history with women. So far, he had been an absolute gentleman, more like a good friend than anything else, though she wondered if she could handle more with him.
“If you're not eating your groceries, then how exactly are you eating well?” He demanded. “Damn it, Freya, do I need to drive down there right now?”
“No, no,” she reassured him. Now came the hard part. “Uh, Brian has been feeding me.”
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