“I’m more worried about what’s going on at your place.” He grabbed several tissues from an end table and wiped the blood from his hand. He strode to the window and peered out. She followed him and did the same.
Fire trucks lined the street. Police cars with their blue lights lit up the neighborhood. Her neighbors had been pulled from their warm beds to gawk at the commotion. Streams of water flowed from the hoses and she tried to think of any possessions she would miss. The picture of her sister on the mantel. The one of her parents in her bedroom. That was pretty much it.
She walked into the kitchen and rummaged in the drawers until she found a dish towel. She ran it under cold water and returned to find Chad on the phone.
“Yes, it was deliberate. Someone tossed it through her window. See if there are any security cams on the street.” He frowned. “I don’t think there are, not in this neighborhood, but see if there’s one at the entrance.” He listened for a moment. “Okay, let me know what you find out.”
“Who was that?” She handed him the wet towel.
He took it, cleaned his hand with it, then placed it at the base of his neck, winced, and closed his eyes. “My partner. Lilly Johnson. She’s going to be working this with me.” He swiped at the wound on his head.
She took the cloth from his hand. “Let me take a look at that, will you?”
“It’s fine.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” She pressed the cloth against the cut. “You don’t have any communicable diseases, do you?”
“What? No.”
She almost smiled at his indignation. “Don’t be insulted. It’s a routine question when dealing with blood.”
He glowered at her. “I know that. I can take care of this myself.”
Macey lifted a brow. “I doubt it. Let me look.” She led him to the nearest chair and gave him a gentle shove. “Sit.”
He pursed his lips and sat. “You don’t seem very concerned about the fact that your house is burning.”
She scowled. “I’m concerned. But I have insurance.” She paused to look into his eyes. There was a righteous anger there. Anger on her behalf. She let her gaze stay connected with his. “And I’m trying not to think about it.”
“And I’m the distraction?”
“Something like that.” She focused back on the wound. “Do you have a flashlight?”
“In that drawer.”
She opened the one he indicated and found the light. She shined it on the back of his head and winced at the sight. “It’s a pretty deep cut and could probably use a couple of stitches. If I had my paramedic kit, I could do it for you.”
He looked at her when she shut the light off. “Always on the job?”
“Of course.”
“Can I tell you a secret?”
“A secret?” She laughed. “I don’t know that I need to know any more secrets.”
“Well, it might sound creepy to you.”
She paused. “Oookay.”
“I didn’t mean it that way, of course, but I have a buddy who’s a paramedic. He lets me know your shift schedule so I can watch for you to come home, make sure you get home safe.”
She gaped then snapped her lips shut. “You’re right, that could come across as creepy. Why would you do that?”
“Because I care about you.”
“You don’t know me.”
He gave her a gentle smile. “Come on, Macey, we’ve known each other for two years. As much as you’ve tried to keep me at arm’s length, you’ve still let me in whether you thought you were or not. I know you pretty well. We may not verbally share a lot, but sometimes things don’t need words. Think about the things you’ve picked up about me just because you’ve paid attention.”
She’d known he was a cop because of the unmarked SUV he drove, but she’d never asked him any personal questions, had kept everything on the surface. What had they talked about? Things like:
Hey, how are you? It sure is cold today, isn’t it? Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?
Casual conversations about nothing. She blinked. And yet he was right. She did feel like she knew him. At least a little. She remembered him talking about his brother only wanting a tree house for his birthday one year. His mother said no, so Chad, in typical big-brother fashion, went out and built it anyway. Only to have said tree house collapse, which resulted in a visit to the ER and thirty stitches in his thigh. Thankfully his brother hadn’t been hurt.
Which led her to know that he was adventurous, a risk-taker, and could be a tad disobedient to authority when it suited his purposes. Which didn’t seem to be very often, as he still had a job.
He had told her about the little nine-year-old girl he’d found abandoned in the crack house just outside of the city. The child had latched on to him like a leech, making him her security. The one time he’d tried to leave, she’d wailed and begged him not to go. Chad had confessed he’d been unable to do it. So he’d stayed with her, holding her, feeding her, and making sure she felt completely safe until her grandmother could come get her.
She’d talked about the last family vacation the summer between her junior and senior year, her relationship with her sister. But all on a surface level, she had thought. Never a word about her feelings or anything that would allow him to know her on a deeper level.
But he’d gone there anyway. He knew her. And he’d looked out for her with no ulterior motives, but just because he cared. It wasn’t creepy. It was incredibly sweet. And it made her heart hurt because now he was possibly in danger because of her. Which brought her back to his head wound.
She felt the stickiness and looked at the blood on her hand. Lights flashed behind her eyes. She saw blood, a lot of it. He’d rolled out of the car, and his blood . . . everywhere. In the car, on the ground. She smelled the coppery scent. So very still. She touched his head and the warm liquid flowed over her fingers . . .
“Macey? Macey? You all right?”
She looked up from her hand and realized she’d shifted back into the past, to the memories that never seemed too far away, yet never close enough to fully grasp.
The knock on his door distracted her. He ignored it, and she realized he was waiting for her answer. She sucked in a deep breath. “Yes. Yes. Sorry.”
She pressed a hand to her forehead. What was wrong with her? She was used to tense situations. She was used to life-and-death trauma. She’d seen blood before. Why the flash of memory now? She just wasn’t used to being the target.
“You want to answer that?” she asked.
“Yeah. Why don’t you go into the kitchen and wash your hands?” He rose. “And that spot on your forehead you just touched.”
She grimaced but didn’t lose eye contact with him. “You’re right.”
“What?”
“You’re right. I hadn’t realized it until you just pointed it out to me, but I do know you.”
He trailed a finger down her cheek. “Yeah.”
She drew in a deep breath and headed for the kitchen, his touch igniting a flame inside of her. One that wanted to have it all. With Chad. The thought terrified her. Not that she might not get it, but that she might. That he was still interested in her and a future with him was a real possibility.
If they lived long enough to explore those possibilities. She kept an eye on him as he went to the door.
After a glance out the window, he opened it. “Lilly, thanks for coming.”
“Of course. You’re hurt?” His partner gestured to the bloody rag in his hand.
“I’m fine. Just a knock on the head.”
“That’s a relief. If it’s your head, I doubt there’s much damage.”
“Always the comedian. Come in.”
Macey had to smile at the banter. She and her fellow paramedics often engaged in it themselves. Sometimes for fun, sometimes as a coping mechanism.
Lilly stepped inside and Chad turned to Macey, who had just finished drying her hands. “Lilly, this is Macey Adams. She’s my neigh
bor. It’s her house that was targeted.”
Macey walked over and shook hands with the other detective. The woman was about the same height as Macey with green eyes and brown hair with red highlights. She was pretty in an understated way. Macey thought if she smiled, she’d be beautiful. “Thanks for getting here so fast.”
Smiling didn’t seem to be on the woman’s agenda. Lilly scowled. “Throwing a homemade bomb into someone’s home is serious stuff. Now tell me, who do you think would have a reason to do it?”
Macey shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Wait, what?” Chad said. “Surely you have some idea.”
“No. I don’t.” She blinked up at him, refusing to let him see the turmoil raging inside her. And while her answer wasn’t the complete truth, it wasn’t a lie either. She truly didn’t know who was threatening her—she could guess, but she didn’t know for sure.
“If you’re not saying something that could help us catch the person responsible, you’re impeding an investigation,” Lilly said.
Macey’s head pounded. Nausea swirled inside her. “I can’t talk about it right now.”
She pressed a hand to her right temple. Images swirled in her mind, but she couldn’t nail them down, make sense out of them. She had to figure out how much she could say without endangering anyone else. Because while she wasn’t a hundred percent sure who had tossed the bomb into her house, she could make an educated guess.
And until she figured out if she wanted to let Chad in on the whole sordid mess—not because she didn’t think he could help, but because she didn’t want to put him in any more danger than she already had—she was keeping that to herself.
Chad wasn’t sure he believed Macey, but it was obvious she didn’t want to talk in front of Lilly. “Do you have a place you can stay while your house is repaired?”
Macey blanched, hesitated. Then shook her head. “No.”
“What about your sister?” Chad asked.
She hesitated. “No, I don’t want to involve her.”
“Parents?”
“Ah . . . no. We’re not exactly on the best of terms. And besides, they’re in Myrtle Beach. My job is here.”
“A friend?” Lilly asked.
Macey rubbed her temples. “Yes, I’ll call one of the girls I work with. My partner, Chelsea, has a spare room. Or a couch. I don’t need much. She’ll let me stay with her.”
“How long has it been since you’ve had a good night’s sleep?” Chad asked.
Macey shot him a wary look then grimaced. “A while.”
He looked at Lilly. “You mind hanging around?”
His partner lifted a brow. “I don’t mind.”
“Good.” He turned to Macey. “You can stay here for the rest of the night. It’s only a couple of hours until morning. Sleep in, and we’ll talk more when you get up. You also need to supply your prints to compare to the note from your phone. I’ll take you by the station in the morning to do that.”
She studied him, weariness and a sad resignation written on her face.
“Please. Let me do this for you,” he said. “There’s a toothbrush in the top right-hand drawer in the bathroom still in the wrapper. Clean towels in the cabinet next to the shower. Help yourself.”
She finally nodded. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”
He showed her to the guest room. “We’ll talk when you get up.” He squeezed her fingers and then wished he’d kept his hand to himself. The softness of her skin, the vulnerability in her eyes all combined to make him want to hold her and keep the real world at bay for her.
But he couldn’t.
She let her eyes linger on his then turned and walked into the bathroom. Before she shut the door, she looked back. “Really. Thank you.”
He nodded. “Of course.”
“I’ll tell you everything in a couple of hours, okay?”
He hesitated. “Good enough.”
He returned to the den to find his partner sitting on the couch with her phone pressed to her ear. She glanced up at him. “Yeah, yeah, I understand. Okay, thanks.” She hung up.
“Who was that?”
“The fire chief. Said they got here in time to keep the flames under control and most of the damage would be smoke and water.”
Chad nodded. “Thanks.”
“Uniforms are also going door to door, asking if anyone saw anything, like someone watching her house or something.”
“Let’s hope they turn up something useful.”
Lilly nodded. “She tell you why someone would do this to her?”
“Not yet, but she promised me we would talk when she woke up.”
She tilted her head toward his. “You need a doc to look at that?”
“No. I’ll be all right. I’ve had worse knocks.”
She shrugged. “If you say so.”
“How’s Charlie?” Charlie was Lilly’s ten-year-old son.
“He’s fine. Sleeping like a rock when I left. I woke Mom and let her know where I was going and that I’d be back when she saw me.”
“You’ve got a saint for a mother.”
“Tell me about it.” When her husband had walked out on them four years ago, Lilly’s mother had moved in to help care for Charlie. Lilly yawned and leaned her head back. “Wake me when it’s time to eat breakfast.”
Chad laughed. “Sure.” Her ability to fall asleep anywhere, anytime, never failed to amaze him.
“You sure your head’s all right? Has the bleeding stopped?”
“It’s fine.” He tossed her a blanket and a pillow and headed down the hall to his room. He needed some Ibuprofen and a couple hours of sleep. With his aching head and spinning thoughts, he doubted he’d get much sleep.
Which might not be a bad thing. At least he’d be awake if Macey needed him.
FIVE
Macey lay on top of the comforter with a heavy blanket pulled over her. She’d showered and shampooed and pulled on the T-shirt and sweatpants Chad had laid out for her. They were only slightly large and she wondered who they belonged to. A girlfriend? Sister?
Sister! She groaned. When Valerie heard about this, she’d flip. Since the incident six years ago, Valerie had become overprotective and obsessive about Macey’s safety. Not to mention the fact that after her husband had been killed, she’d been able to focus every ounce of energy on Macey. As a result, her overprotectiveness had intensified over the past two months to the point of suffocation.
Macey figured it was denial or some kind of coping mechanism. Two months a widow, Valerie was still deep in the process of grieving. So Macey had become the object of her attention. The person who could distract her from her pain, if only for a short while.
It was sweet that Valerie cared so much, but honestly it got old sometimes. Only now, Macey had to admit, her sister’s concerns were valid.
Her eyes grew heavy, but to sleep meant she’d dream. But she was safe here. For the first time in almost two months, she actually felt safe.
But she couldn’t sleep because she was afraid. Not that the person who was causing havoc in her life would be able to get at her, but that she’d wake screaming. She shuddered at the thought. What would Chad think about that? She had a feeling he’d be understanding and nonjudgmental. He would come to her rescue as quickly as he had when he’d heard her scream just a few hours earlier.
But she didn’t want him to have to be the white knight once again. Not tonight. She glanced at the clock and rolled out of the bed.
She walked to the window and peered out. 4:40 in the morning. The police and fire trucks were still at her house, but it looked like things were winding down. Police officers, firefighters, even an ambulance crew congregated on the curb. She probably knew half the people who’d been called out but didn’t think anyone would realize it was her place. She socialized only on occasion, was friendly but never had anyone in her home. Simply because she was afraid to get too close.
Because when she got too close, people ended up hurt—or
dead.
She walked back to the bed. Then back to the window.
A knock on the door shifted her attention from the scene at her house. “Come in.”
The door opened and Chad’s dark head appeared. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“I can hear you pacing. Can’t sleep?”
She shrugged.
He frowned. “Okay, you either can’t sleep because your adrenaline is rushing too fast or you’re afraid to sleep because you’ll have nightmares.”
Her jaw dropped. “What are you, psychic?”
He gave a low laugh. “No. Just more aware than the average person.” He turned serious. “And because I’ve been there. Pacing and depriving yourself physically won’t help the situation.” He nodded to the bed. “Try to sleep. You’re going to need it.”
She nodded. He was right. “I’ll try. I just—” She wrapped her arms around her middle and shivered.
He walked over and engulfed her in a hug. The act surprised her. She wasn’t a particularly “huggy” person but decided she quite liked being in Chad’s arms. Slowly, she let her arms slide around his waist. He just held her, and she could almost feel her blood pressure lowering as a sense of security slowly invaded her. She drew in a deep breath, smelling the lingering scents of soap and smoke. Fatigue washed over her. Her eyelids grew heavy.
He stepped back and she wanted to protest. Instead she bit her lip and stared up at him.
His gaze dropped to her lips then moved back up to her eyes. One side of his mouth lifted in a half smile. “I’ll be here if you need anything.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
He lifted a hand to push a lock of hair behind her ear. “Sleep, okay?”
“Sure.”
With one last lingering look, he left, and she crawled back onto the bed.
Sleep. She nearly laughed. Not with humor, but with disbelief. Sleep. Right. It would be impossible with everything going on outside—and with the attraction she felt zinging between her and Chad in spite of the danger that stalked her. But she shut her eyes.
And remembered.
The gunshot echoed in the night air. Seventeen-year-old Macey stilled in her spot in the back of the vehicle. She sat up and reached for the handle. The two boys raced from the front door, one of them carrying a small bag, the black strap with the silver buckle banging against his leg. Tyler.
Sins of the Past Page 23