“I don’t think it’ll start.”
“Give it a try.”
Callie climbed in her car and cranked it. Nothing. She sighed. “The battery’s dead, I guess.” Which was why she hadn’t been able to get away earlier.
Once again he pulled his phone from the clip on his belt and she heard him ask someone about a tow truck and meeting him at the garage tomorrow morning.
He hung up. “Do you want me to call someone to come get us and take us back to the house? There’s no need to call anyone to come to the scene as I can take the accident report. But if you don’t feel like walking, I can get us a ride.”
“No, I can walk.” She hoped her legs were steady enough. “I’ll need my suitcase and my cell phone, though.”
He pulled the suitcase from the trunk and set it on the ground while she snagged the phone from the passenger floorboard. She supposed it had fallen there when her attacker had bumped her.
“You’re not planning to stay very long if that’s all you brought,” Nolan said.
“I’m a light traveler. And I pack well. There’s enough in there for five or six days and then I can always wash it.”
“Impressive.”
His matter-of-fact-ness was added balm to her frazzled nerves. As a lawyer, she was used to working under stressful conditions. She could keep her cool in a life-and-death courtroom battle and not blink an eye about doing it. But this…this was different. Someone had targeted her and it scared her. A little shakiness could be understood, right?
And Nolan Tanner.
She’d figured if she ever saw him again, he’d hate her. The fact that he’d acted cordial, concerned, even friendly, allowed a piece of her heart to heal.
He took a long look at her. Long enough to make her uncomfortable and wonder if she’d made a snap judgment as to whether or not he hated her. She shifted, mind grasping for something to say to break the silence. But then he turned without a word and started off for the path through the woods. She fell in behind him.
Callie wanted to say something. Anything. But what did a girl say to the only man she’d ever loved—and left?
3
Once they reached the house, Nolan led her up the back porch steps to the sliding glass doors. When they stepped inside, Callie paused just to take everything in. Memories flowed. Good memories—and bad.
“I don’t care,” her mother said, “It’s her—”
Nolan cleared his throat.
Callie’s mother paused mid-sentence and spun to simply stare at the two of them.
“Callie,” she breathed. “Oh, my dear girl.” Then she was across the room with Callie in her arms.
Callie clutched her mother’s shoulders and buried her face against the woman’s neck. Her heart constricted as she breathed in the familiar smell. Sobs clawed at her throat, but she refused to release them. If she started crying she might not stop.
After a minute, her mother stepped back to cup her cheeks and simply stare at her. “You’re here. I can touch you.”
Callie nodded and swiped a few tears that escaped despite her determination. “I know. FaceTime just isn’t the same, is it?”
“No.”
Callie glanced over at the young woman behind her mother. Her sister. “Megan.”
She’d changed, matured. The last time Callie had seen her in person, she’d just been seventeen. Watching her account on social media and the occasional FaceTime conversation hadn’t adequately prepared her for the difference.
“Hi, Sis. Welcome home.” Megan crossed the room and embraced her. Then her mother turned to Nolan.
“What happened outside? You said for us to stay here.” Her gaze slid to Callie. “Was that you screaming?”
Callie ran a shaking hand through her hair. “Yes. Someone attacked me.” She shuddered and felt her neck, wondering if she’d have bruises in the morning.
“What?” Her mother reached out and touched her face. “You’re hurt.”
Callie frowned, then registered the pain in her cheek. “A branch got me while I was running.”
“Let’s get that taken care of. It’s a small cut, but still bleeding a bit.” She looked at Nolan. “Do we need to call the police or will you take care of this?”
“I’ll take care of it. I’ve already called for someone to be on the lookout for the vehicle that rammed her car. Hopefully, we’ll hear something soon.”
Callie’s heart thumped in her chest while her mother slipped into the kitchen and returned with a small first aid kit. Her overloaded senses almost couldn’t take in the events of the night and being reunited with her family. She drew in a deep breath.
Her stepfather was gone. No, not just gone. Dead. He was no longer a threat. She and her mother and sister could now get on with their lives and be a family once more.
Once her mother finished with Callie’s wound, Nolan cleared his throat. “Where did the others go?”
“What others?” Callie asked.
“Rick’s children.”
Callie gaped. “His kids are here?” They’d never shown any interest in their father as far as she’d known. Her mother had tried to reach out to them, but they’d rebuffed her every overture, angry that he’d divorced their mother and married again.
Of course they’d show up for the reading of his will. For the first time since she heard of his death, she wondered about the money. The money that was her mother’s and father’s to begin with. Not Rick’s.
Rick had nothing before he married her mother—except a law degree and a drinking habit. Surely, he didn’t have control over any portion of her mother’s money to give to his children, did he? What had her mother chosen—or been pressured to do—in the last six years?
“They went to their rooms when Nolan ran out the door.”
Nolan blinked. “Seriously?”
Her mother shook her head, lips pursed, eyes narrowed. “They said it was probably just a stray cat.”
“I wasn’t finished talking to them,” Nolan said, “but I suppose the rest of it can wait until tomorrow.”
“There’s more?” Megan asked.
“More what?” Callie asked. “What’s going on?” She let her eyes swing between her mother and Nolan.
“We’re not sure your stepfather’s accident was really an accident,” Nolan said.
“Not an acci—what? If not, then what?”
“Murder,” her mother whispered.
Callie’s lungs closed in and her knees went weak. She sank onto the nearest recliner. “Murder?”
Nolan stepped up and rested a hand on her shoulder. His familiar touch sent warmth shooting through her chilled body. “We just got the report back on the car. The brake line was cut.”
“But… why would you even check for something like that?”
Nolan sighed, looked at her mother then back to her. “Your stepfather had an argument with his business partner, Clyde Durham, two days prior to his accident. His secretary overheard the man say something to the point that he wouldn’t live to regret his decision. She called the sheriff, and the sheriff asked me to look into it.”
Callie stared at him, then moved her gaze to her mother, who’d lowered herself onto the love seat opposite the recliner.
“Clyde would never do anything to hurt anyone,” her mother said. “I’ve known him as long as I’ve known Rick. We all graduated high school together. And Rick didn’t say anything about an argument. He was moody and cranky the day before the wreck, but I just—” She shook her head. “I didn’t really pay that much attention, I suppose. When he got like that, he liked to be alone, so I left him to himself.” She covered her mouth with her fingers. “I don’t believe this.”
“We’re still investigating, Mrs. Goodlette. I’ll keep you updated.”
“What about the funeral? It’s the day after tomorrow.”
“Keep your plans for now. I’ll let the sheriff know what’s happened here tonight with Callie and get his feedback on where he wants to go from here
.”
Callie’s mother nodded. “All right. Thank you.”
The doorbell rang and Megan started. “That’s probably Brian. We’re going out for a late snack and I’m not even dressed yet.”
She left and returned with a young man in tow. He was only slightly taller than Megan, with dark hair and eyes and a lanky build. “This is Brian,” she told Callie, “a good friend and co-worker.” Brian smiled down at Megan and the look in his eyes said he wanted very much to be more than just a co-worker.
Megan was employed at their father’s law office—and had been since she’d turned sixteen. Even after their father’s death a year later, she’d continued to work there part-time while finishing her accounting degree.
Callie and Brian shook hands.
Brian shoved his hands into his coat pockets. “What’s going on around here?”
Nolan cleared his throat. “I’ll let them explain, but I need to get going so you all can… ah, enjoy your reunion. I’ll need to talk to everyone again tomorrow if that’s all right.”
“Of course,” her mother said. “Why don’t you come by for breakfast and I’ll make enough for us all?”
Nolan locked eyes with Callie. “Thank you, I appreciate that.”
Callie swallowed, remembering the times he’d come over for breakfast on Saturday mornings. But only when her father was alive. Rick had ruined Saturday mornings when he’d married her mother.
Callie drew in a deep breath. “I think I’m going to put my stuff in my room—or maybe in the guest—” She looked at her mother. “Mom, where am I staying?”
“In your old room, of course.”
Callie nearly wilted. She still had a room here. Her bruised throat grew tight, and once more, she refused to give in to the tears.
She grabbed her suitcase, hugged her mother and sister once more, and walked down the hall off the den. A right turn took her past the media room where she’d watched Disney movies with her friends. She kept going all the way to the back of the house and into her childhood bedroom.
She dropped her suitcase to the floor, sank onto the taupe-and-white comforter, and finally released the tears.
4
Nolan tapped the steering wheel and sat outside his home. He’d stopped by the station to finish the paperwork on Callie’s attack and the hit-and-run. He’d also called Clyde Durham and gotten the man’s voice mail.
And now he was running the details over and over in his mind.
Something just didn’t feel right to him.
He sighed. Nothing had felt right for the past six years since Callie took off and left him with a broken heart. Not that he’d stopped living. He’d just had to learn to live without her.
Only now she was back, stirring up all those old feelings and emotions.
And someone had tried to kill her. The car bumping her once could have been an accident, but twice? No way. And the bruises on her neck was just added confirmation that someone had been intent on kill her.
So who could want her dead?
A rap on his window spiked his adrenaline even as it jerked him from his thoughts. He looked up to see his brother Jason staring at him with a frown. Nolan lowered the window.
“You okay?”
“You scared the fire outta me.”
“Sorry. I called your name, but you didn’t answer.”
“Didn’t hear you.”
“Hence the knock on the window.”
Nolan rolled his eyes.
“What’s got you so preoccupied?” his brother asked.
“Callie’s back.”
Jason blinked. “Callie? As in … Callie Callie? That Callie?”
“That’s the one.”
“Whoa.” Jason shivered. “Can we go inside? I’m freezing.”
Jason worked with the Hope County Fire Department. He’d been on for the past thirty-six hours and was probably ready to crash.
“Someone tried to kill her tonight,” Nolan said.
“What? Kill who?”
“Callie. Her birthday is two weeks away. Did you know that?”
“No, I didn’t. What’s that got to do with anything?” He slapped the door of the car. “Dude, get out of your truck and come inside. You’re not making any sense.”
“Yeah.” Nolan opened the door, grabbed his stuff and followed Jason into the house. Roommates, brothers, and best friends, Jason knew the history with Callie. It had been Jason who’d helped him work through his grief and anger at losing her six years ago.
Once inside, Jason dropped his gear into the hall closet and Nolan headed for the kitchen. “I asked Callie to marry me on her nineteenth birthday, did you know that?”
“Ah. Now I understand. Yeah, you told me. I’m sorry, man.”
“Forget it. It’s not important. What have we got to eat in here?”
“Why are you asking me? I’m the one who’s been working,” Jason called from the closet. Nolan hoped he was arranging the gear so it wouldn’t fall on his head the next time he opened the door.
“Ha. Right. You’re the one that gets to sleep on the job, you mean?”
It was a familiar argument. A comfortable one.
Jason appeared in the doorway. “So what happened with Callie? I didn’t even know she was back.”
“She just got home today. Came home for her stepfather’s funeral.” He pulled out a tin foil–covered casserole dish and sent up thanks for some of the older ladies in the church who’d adopted him and Jason.
“Huh. So, are you going to pick up where you left off?”
Nolan shot him a frown. “No. We left off with her leaving, remember?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah.” He shut the refrigerator door. “I don’t like it.”
Jason dipped a hearty spoonful of the chicken casserole onto his plate. “Don’t like what?” He set the timer on the microwave and turned.
Nolan shook his head. “Everything that happened tonight. Something feels off.”
“So what do you want to do?”
Nolan sighed. “Eat. For now. And plan.”
Callie tried to sleep, but the terror of the evening wouldn’t let her keep her eyes shut for long. She kept envisioning the man chasing her, feeling his hand around her throat. If it hadn’t been for Nolan—
She shuddered and rolled out of bed to cross the room and push aside the curtains that had hung at the window since she was a small child. The moon cast some light onto the backyard, but not much. French doors led out onto the back deck that led to the pool. As a child she’d loved this room even though her father—her real father, not her stepfather—had installed safety locks on the doors so she couldn’t get out that way. Still, she’d enjoyed looking out and simply seeing the pool and imagining the fun times to come.
As a teenager, she’d taken many a late-night swim with her friends. Now, she wished she were on a second floor. Or simply somewhere else.
Was he out there? Was he watching? Or had the whole thing just been something out of a nightmare? Had she just been in the wrong place at the wrong time? Had she simply been an easy target for someone waiting on the little-traveled back road?
Maybe.
Callie slipped into her robe and slippers and stepped out of the bedroom. She figured Rick’s children were in the other wing on the opposite side of the house where the guest quarters were, so she wasn’t worried about waking them with her nocturnal activities. The house might be only one level, but it was quite large. A sprawling structure that she used to pretend was her castle. Once Rick had moved in, it had become her prison.
Shoving the memories aside, she made her way into the kitchen and turned on the Keurig. She wasn’t interested in coffee, but tea sounded good and the machine made hot water fast. She rummaged through the drawer and found several bags.
While she waited for the “ready” signal, she crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. Her gaze landed on the water just beyond the backyard. The lake, the dock, the boathouse, all o
f it, held some wonderful memories. Her father had loved the water and had instilled that same love in his two girls. Callie especially.
Being on the water meant spending time with the father she adored. And then he’d died and Rick had moved in and stolen whatever peace she’d been able to find in the sanctuary she called home.
Had someone really killed Rick by cutting the brake line on his car? Who had he made mad enough to do such a thing? It could probably be anyone.
“Honey?”
Her mother’s voice warmed her. “Hi.”
“Can’t sleep?”
“No.”
“Mind if I join you?”
“Of course not.” Callie realized the water was ready and fixed two cups. She set one in front of her mother before taking the seat opposite her. “You can’t sleep either?”
“I have a lot on my mind.”
“Anything you want to share?”
Her mother ripped a napkin into shreds before looking up. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of, Callie.”
Callie stilled. Then nodded. “Okay. You want to tell me about them?”
A laugh escaped her. A low sound with no humor. “Not really, but I’m thinking that some of those things are coming full circle to let me know that my sins aren’t forgiven after all.”
“That doesn’t sound like you,” Callie said. “You know God doesn’t hold grudges.” She frowned. For as long as she could remember her mother had always been self-assured and confident. The uncertainty in her voice shook Callie.
“I know.” She offered Callie a weak smile. “Never mind. The past few days have been horrendous and I’m not thinking clearly. We’ll talk more after Rick’s funeral.”
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“What’s in the will? Why would Rick’s children show up at this point other than to attend the funeral?”
“He left them some money.”
“I see.”
Her mother studied her, then tilted her head thoughtfully. “But it wasn’t his money to leave. Is that what you’re thinking?”
“Something like that. Unless it is his money.” Callie sighed. “I’m not worried about myself, Mom. I’ve done well. I don’t need your money anymore. I told you that three years ago.” And yet, her mother continued to have money deposited into her account each month like clockwork.
Lethal Homecoming (Tanner Hollow #1) Page 2