The Black Sheep's Redemption

by Lynette Eason

  His dad said, “See you at the house,” then walked toward his own car.

  As a result of Demi’s presence, Charles couldn’t help notice that the cloud of loneliness that Kathleen’s desertion had caused seemed to lift. He watched Demi tickle Aaron under his chin and laugh. Aaron laughed back and tried to copy Demi by wiggling his little fingers under her chin.

  Longing hit him. Hard. He wanted someone in his life. Someone who loved him, loved his kids. Someone like Demi.

  As he climbed behind the wheel, he scoffed at himself. Someone like Demi? He’d known the woman all of a week and it made him nervous that he was thinking long-term about her because he wasn’t sure he could trust his instincts anymore. They’d certainly been wrong about Kathleen. Could he trust them about Demi?

  And what about the person that seemed determined to keep flinging the blame for Olivia’s murder in his face? And the fact that most people in town considered him a suspect? He looked in the rearview mirror at his children, then over at Demi.

  His heart shuddered at the thought of something happening to them. In addition to keeping them all safe and clearing his name, he wanted to help Demi figure out who she was. But how?

  Unable to come up with a satisfying answer, he thought about the Glock he had locked in his safe at home. Might be a good time to start carrying it again. It would be one step toward keeping everyone safe.

  “Are you all right?”

  Charles jerked. Demi looked at him, her wide green eyes waiting for his answer.

  “Yes,” he smiled. “Just thinking.”

  “About what?”

  “A lot of things. But one thing was about trying to figure out a way to help you.”

  Interest brightened her face. “Like how?”

  “Just an idea I’ve got brewing in the back of my mind. Let me put it to my brother Owen and see what he thinks. If he decides it has merit, I’ll fill you in.”

  She frowned, but didn’t question him as she settled back into the seat. The drive to his father’s house didn’t take long.

  Inside, Victoria’s daughter, Paige, volunteered to entertain the children in the playroom. Charles let her, watched Keira take Demi under her wing and then headed off to the den to find Owen talking with Ryan and Hunter.

  Owen’s large frame hogged one end of the couch. Charles got his attention and waved him over. Curiosity etched on his features, Owen followed Charles into the hall. “What’s up?”

  “I want to help Demi try to figure out who she is.”

  Owen knew about the amnesia. Word had spread quickly that Charles had hired a woman with no memory. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Demi said the police posted her picture in the papers and on the news for several days after she woke up, but no one came to identify her.”

  “Could be the wrong part of the country. Could be she doesn’t have anyone.”

  Charles frowned. “That’s a sad thought.”

  “Yeah.” Owen glanced toward the den. “I know if one of us disappeared, Dad would stop at nothing to find us.”

  Charles knew that for a fact. “So what do you think about putting her picture back up on the news? See if we get a response?”

  Owen shrugged. “Sure, we can do it.” He pulled his phone from his pocket. “You got a picture of her?”

  Charles grabbed his own phone. “I will in a minute.”

  “I’ll let Deborah know it’s coming.” Deborah was the dispatcher. She’d see the picture was handled appropriately.

  Charles went in search of Demi and found her in the dining room placing a huge bowl of mashed potatoes in the center of the table. Even growing up in this family, he was still amazed at the amount of food they put away whenever they got together.

  She smiled when she saw him. He waved her over. “I need a picture of you.”

  Her right brow lifted. “Okay. What for?”

  “We’re going to put your picture back out there on the news one more time and see if anyone steps forward.”

  Grief flashed for a brief moment before she lifted her chin. “We already tried that. In the city where I was attacked. Springfield, Massachusetts. About a hundred miles west of here.” She shrugged and swallowed. “I don’t think there is anyone.”

  Charles felt his heart break for her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and said, “Demi, no one is completely alone in the world. Even if someone is the last surviving member of her family, there are still friends, coworkers, someone who would notice if she were missing.”

  “But no one did,” she whispered. “That’s what I’m saying.”

  “Then the right person didn’t see the picture,” he insisted.

  “Are you always this stubborn?”

  “Always,” Owen said from behind him.

  She glanced between the brothers and then shrugged. “Okay, if you want to try.”

  Charles snapped the picture and sent it to Owen’s phone so that it got displayed on the six o’clock news that night.

  “Owen,” Victoria interrupted, holding out her phone. “Trevor Billings is on the phone. Wants to know if you can fill in and pitch the upcoming softball game. It’s the special fundraiser game for the children’s hospital and Kyle can’t be there.”

  Charles watched his brother roll his eyes and explain to a confused Demi, “Trevor is the team’s manager. He recruits us from church. Kyle is the regular pitcher. I pitched one game for him last season and now they’re determined to get me on that team full-time. I told them I didn’t have time for that right now. That I couldn’t commit.”

  Victoria’s gaze softened as she looked at her fiancé and Charles felt a pang hit him. Would he ever see that look in a woman’s eyes again? He stole a glance at Demi and saw her watching them, a longing also written on her face.

  Victoria said, “You need to take some time for you, Owen. You’re going to burn out if you don’t have a little fun. You can’t spend every single minute working.” Then she flushed and looked at Charles. “No offense, Charles.”

  He smiled. “None taken. In fact I agree with you. It’s for a great cause.” He said to Owen, “Go on, they need you. We may even bring the kids and cheer you on.”

  After another brief hesitation, Owen sighed and nodded his consent, but Charles thought he could see a gleam of anticipation in his brother’s eyes.

  Victoria smiled. “Great. I’ll tell him that you’ll be there.”

  Hours later, as Charles took Demi home, he asked her, “So, did we scare you off?”

  She laughed. “No. You have a wonderful family.”

  “Thanks. I think so. Most of the time.”

  “And you didn’t have to feed me supper. I could have come home long before now.”

  He frowned. “I’m sorry, I should have thought you might have something to do or things to take care of… I didn’t… I mean… Did you want to leave?”

  Another laugh escaped her and he decided that he could listen to that sound all day.

  “No. And I didn’t have anything to do. It was a lovely way to spend the day. Thank you.”

  Relief filled him. “Good. So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “Eight o’clock sharp.”

  “Great. I have a nine o’clock appointment.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “I’ll let you know if there’s any calls about your picture on the news.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  As she started to climb out of the car, he couldn’t stop himself from snagging her hand.

  Startled, her eyes met his and he said, “Thank you for coming today. I’m sorry about the mess at the church.”

  She shrugged. “It wasn’t your fault. And I enjoyed the time with your family.”
/>
  Her hand felt soft, yet strong. And he wasn’t ready to let go yet. But he did because he had to. He needed to keep their relationship more professional than personal. At least right now. He swallowed hard and wondered how he was going to be able to do that when everything in him wanted to get to know her better—and his reason had nothing to do with business. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  * * *

  Demi bit her lip as she let herself into the apartment even as she wondered about the look that had been in Charles’s eyes when he’d said goodbye. A longing.

  And a distance.

  Weird.

  Her heart trembled at the thought of her face being on the news once again. If a silent phone followed the broadcast, she would be heartbroken.

  So, the only way to avoid that was to refuse to get her hopes up. But she appreciated Charles’s desire to help.

  Speaking of help…

  Her eyes went to the kitchen cabinet. She hadn’t told him about the note. Each time she’d thought about it, there hadn’t been a chance to bring it up without another member of the family overhearing. And in the truck, she’d simply wimped out. She didn’t want to hurt him. Telling him about the note would be just another arrow in his already aching heart. He would feel guilty. Possibly even tell her that she needed to find another job.

  She shuddered. She didn’t want to find another job and she didn’t want Charles worrying that he was putting her in any kind of danger.

  So, she’d keep her mouth shut.

  For now.

  As Chloe wrapped a warm welcome around Demi’s ankles, she felt her tense shoulders relax. She hadn’t realized she’d been worried about coming home.

  Facing her apartment all alone.

  At least the door had definitely been locked this time, but she still worried.

  Worry. Fear. Anxiety. Emotions she had become intimately familiar with over the past few weeks.

  But excitement lingered, too. She had a job. True, she had no car and no driver’s license, and it was a fifteen-minute walk to and from Charles’s house, but that was no big deal.

  As she puttered and cleaned a little, getting ready to relax for the rest of the evening—or at least try to if she could keep her gaze from straying to the cabinet that held the coffee canister—she realized she’d finished the last book she’d borrowed from The Reading Nook. Since she had no television, books had been her sole entertainment in the evenings.

  She supposed she could just go to bed, but it was only eight-thirty and she was still wound up from the excitement of the day. Charles had been so attentive, his family kind and welcoming. And she almost wished she hadn’t gone.

  Being around the Fitzgeralds, watching their interactions, listening to their teasing, their good-natured arguing, had spiked a longing in her that nearly split her in two. What would it be like to be a part of a family like that? To know that someone would miss her immediately if she suddenly wasn’t there?

  Tears formed and she blinked them back.

  She looked at Chloe who sat on the floor cleaning a paw. “I definitely needed a book to read.”

  Chloe looked up at Demi’s words then went back to her business.

  Since Fiona had told Demi to help herself anytime she found herself wanting something to read, Demi decided to take her up on that offer.

  Making her way downstairs, she was grateful Fiona didn’t bother to lock the door leading from the apartment stairs to the bookstore area. She supposed Fiona felt that locking the outer doors was enough security.

  The dark interior made her shiver. But she knew exactly which book she wanted.

  The Bible.

  Fiona had a whole shelf of Bibles in every translation available. As Demi made her way through the store, she thought she saw a flash of light toward the back. She frowned and couldn’t help the tremor of fear that shot through her.

  It surprised her so much, she nearly stumbled. The darkness pressed in on her, suffocating her. Another flash of light near the window, then nothing.

  More darkness. She couldn’t handle the darkness. Her breathing quickened as she shoved down the fear that came from nowhere.

  Why am I so afraid?

  Gasping, she flew to the wall that held the light switch and flipped it.

  Nothing happened.

  She flipped it again. Down, then up.

  Her stomach quivered and the images flared up again. The heavy fist, a flash of agonizing pain in her head. Angry words.

  “Stop.” She flinched at the harsh word then realized it had come from her. “Stop,” she whispered.

  The images faded, but the lights still didn’t work.

  Why not? They worked fine in her apartment.

  A sliding scrape to her right froze her, heart pounding, blood rushing.

  Was someone in the store?

  After all that had happened since she’d arrived in Fitzgerald Bay, every nerve jumped into hyperawareness. Was that someone breathing? Should she call out? Warn the person she was there?

  No, she had a feeling the person knew she was there. And she was right where he wanted her.

  EIGHT

  Charles tucked the twins into bed and kissed them each good-night at least five times. He was exhausted. Thank goodness he’d had his family helping him today or he wouldn’t have been able to function.

  As much as he loved his children, they wore him out. Being a single father had not been the plan. But that’s the way things had worked out and while he wished his marriage hadn’t ended the way it had, he was grateful for the two beautiful children that had come from it.

  He walked to the window and looked out. A police cruiser sat in plain view. Charles felt his jaw tighten. While thankful for the extra pair of eyes, he was frustrated at the necessity for it.

  His right hand reached up to touch the weapon in the shoulder holster. It felt right. Comforting. Even as the need for it brought to mind the memories of his time in Iraq. A time he’d rather forget.

  Now Olivia’s death, the spray paint on his garage, the incident at church had him jumping at shadows and looking over his shoulder. Just like back in Iraq, he was now in a constant adrenaline rush.

  He closed his eyes and did his best to concentrate on the good in his life.

  As a result, he found himself looking forward to work tomorrow for the first time since Olivia’s death and felt certain that had something to do with the fact that Demi’s faith in him was salve to his wounded soul.

  In addition to that, he hoped that with Demi’s agreeing to be the children’s nanny, people would stop looking at him like he was monster.

  Last week at the office had been a little better.

  Maybe this week he would continue to see an improvement.

  Since Olivia’s death, it had been only the sickest who’d been willing to see him. And some long-time patients who didn’t believe the drivel they’d seen on the television and read in the newspaper. But those were few and far between. Especially with Burke spouting his nonsense.

  Back on the positive side, he couldn’t help the little leap his heart gave at the thought that he would see Demi in the morning for a brief time before he had to take off. Maybe they would even have a chance to share a cup of coffee together. He settled into the recliner to watch the end of the movie he’d DVR’d the night before.

  Just as he picked up the remote, his phone buzzed.

  He frowned when he saw the number was Owen’s. Punching the talk button, he said, “Hello?”

  “Just got a call from someone who said they thought they saw someone sneaking around Fiona’s store. Do you know where she is?”

  Charles’s feet slammed to the floor. “No, did you try Hunter? Who made the call?”

/>   “I don’t know. Said they saw what looked like a flashlight bouncing around inside and thought it might be a prowler. And yes, I tried Hunter. He’s not answering his phone and neither is Fiona.”

  “I’ll meet you there.” All of a sudden his fatigue was gone, replaced by racing adrenaline. Demi lived above that store. What if she went down there and ran into an intruder?

  “No need, it might be nothing and I’ll keep you updated.”

  “Mrs. Mulrooney can be here in five minutes. I’ll be at the store in little more than ten.”

  He hung up and dialed his father’s housekeeper. Charles explained his dilemma and she promised to come right over.

  As soon as she stepped in the door, he said a hasty thanks and ran to his truck.

  * * *

  Demi clutched the phone as she waited in the dark, ears straining. She listened for the slightest sound, praying help would arrive soon. But how could it? The phone was dead.

  She prayed that she was wrong, that she was just hearing things. That she was safe and no one was in the store with her.

  A footstep to her right made her jerk.

  Her heart tripled its erratic beat and she held her breath. She wasn’t just hearing things. Just like she hadn’t imagined the message in her coffee grounds.

  She was on her own with no way to call for help. Her eyes darted in the dark, doing her best to ignore the desire to give in to the panic clawing at her.

  In her mind’s eye, she visualized the layout of the store. She was behind the counter where the phone was. To her left were the numerous bookcases, shelves filled with volumes.

  A sitting area just beyond that.

  Another footstep, closer this time, made her heart leap again.

  Why wouldn’t he say anything? What was he doing? Why did he want to frighten her?

  “Who’s there?” she called, her voice high, squeaky and scared. “What do you want?”

  Now she heard his breathing, just beyond the counter. Why wouldn’t he say something?

  She had to move. Stay out of his reach until she could get out of the store. Right now, he stood between her and the door. If she tried to get back to the stairs leading to her apartment, she would be trapped by the locked door on one side and the intruder on the other.