“Look, Adams. I may have gotten into a scrape or two in my time, but when it comes to my business, I don’t break the law. I don’t sell animal blood. And I certainly wouldn’t do something like that to Mrs. Kaufman; she’s always been kind to me. But if you want to know who purchased mounted rabbits from me, I’d be happy to provide you with a list. They’ll probably be people far away—I mostly sell online and then ship ’em.”
“Yes, I would like that list.”
“Sure. Give me a day, and I’ll get it over to you. Should I send it to the cop shop?”
“That would be fine.”
As I left Otis Jett’s, I was feeling a little frustrated. At this point, I felt like I could rule out Otis’s involvement. I didn’t think he had anything to do with the bloody acts of vandalism. Frankly, he had never been that good of a liar.
But that meant someone else had gone to the trouble of killing at least one fox and several rabbits, then drained them all of their blood, solely to scare Barb—and maybe Lil.
I was dealing with a very sick individual.
Twenty
Lil
I was sitting in Bryn’s kitchen when she finally came home a little after six. She didn’t typically work this late; the coffee house closed at four thirty on weekdays.
“Where’ve you been?” I asked.
“Meeting with the accountant about my tax situation,” she said with a roll of the eyes. She walked straight past me, pulled a glass down from her cabinet, and proceeded to pour herself two fingers of bourbon, neat. Actually, two thumbs would be a more accurate description.
“That bad, huh?”
She swallowed a sip, closing her eyes as the bourbon hit her throat. When she looked at me again, she nodded, then gave me a once-over. “Wow! You look amazing! Are you wearing lipstick?”
I waved a hand at her. “Stop.”
“Turn around.”
I did as ordered. “Is it too much?”
“Are you asking me if skinny jeans and that sexy top are too much for a date?”
“No, I’m asking you if I look like I’m trying too hard for dinner with an old friend at his house.”
Her brows shot up, and she swallowed another gulp of bourbon. I wanted to tell her it was a downright sin to guzzle good bourbon, but she looked like she couldn’t care less.
“Have you been to Coop’s house since you’ve been back?” she asked with a hint of mystery.
“No. Why?”
She smiled. “No reason. So when’s the hot date?”
“I told you, it’s not a date. It’s dinner.” I looked at my watch. “And he was supposed to pick me up fifteen minutes ago.”
“Have you called him?”
“No.” I’d wanted to, but I also didn’t want to come across as nervous or desperate. “I’m sure he’s just running a little late. He’ll be here soon.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Call him.”
“Fine. I will.” I grabbed my phone and called. I stared at Bryn as the call went to voicemail. “He’s not answering. What if he changed his mind?” Oh God, I was nervous and desperate. I was under no illusion that Coop and I were going to ride off into the sunset, but I also didn’t think I could take the rejection.
“Is that what you want?” Bryn asked. “For him to change his mind?”
I stiffened. “Why would you ask that?”
“Because I know you. You’re scared, and you’re trying to talk yourself out of this. Just now you tried to pretend it isn’t a date at all. But it is a date, Lil, and you know it. A date with Cooper Adams. The same Cooper Adams who’s loved you since we were kids. The same Cooper Adams who’s always wanted nothing but the best for you. He wanted to go after you when you left town twelve years ago, and I’m going to venture to guess that he’s currently praying to Jesus for an opportunity to see if there’s still hope for the two of you.”
She was right about that last part. Coop had made his interest clear. But so what? I was heading back to New York soon, and he was clearly trying to get his life back together here in Paynes Creek. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us if I were to pretend there was a chance of anything happening between us.
“Don’t wait for him to pick you up,” Bryn said. “Go to him. I know there’s a lot of shit going on in your life right now, but if I had a man like that wanting to cook me dinner, you wouldn’t see me standing in the middle of your apartment second-guessing things.”
“You do have a guy like that,” I reminded her.
“Oh, yeah.” She looked down at her watch. “Speaking of, I need to change.” She looked back at me. “I’m begging you. Go to him. Take my car. Jake and I will drive out and get it later. What’s the worst that could happen?”
That was a loaded question.
“I don’t even know where he lives,” I said. “He never told me.”
“What? For real? You really don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“I swear I wasn’t keeping this from you on purpose. I just assumed he told you.”
“Told me what?”
“He bought the old Kuster place.”
“He did what?”
During the drive out to the Kuster farm, I reminisced about how much that farm had meant to Coop and me as kids. In fact, that was where Coop and I shared our first kiss—behind one of Mr. Kuster’s barns during one of his Fourth of July celebrations, we created our own fireworks. And we professed our love to each other behind that same barn less than six months later, on a snowy Christmas Eve.
And then there was that fateful night in May, when we first made love. Just before both of our lives would be changed forever.
As I pulled up in front of the two-story clapboard house, I once again admired the modern changes made to the traditional home. It had the same circular drive and beautiful covered front porch, but now the siding had been replaced with low-maintenance steel-gray cement siding featuring white trim and black window sashes. It still looked like a southern farmhouse, but with a contemporary, urban flair. I loved it.
Coop’s truck was parked outside. I pulled up behind it, got out, marched up his porch steps, and knocked loudly on the screened outer door. I would either wake him up, or I would find out he no longer wanted to have dinner with me. Either way, I was getting an answer.
After several seconds of silence, I rapped the door again. I thought I heard movement, then my phone buzzed in my pocket. Just as I pulled it out and saw that it was Coop, the door swung open. He stood there, holding his phone to his ear, and stared at me.
“I’m so sorry.” His words rushed out as he lowered the phone.
His hair was disheveled, and his wrinkled T-shirt was untucked from his jeans.
“You look like you just woke up.” I turned and gestured toward Bryn’s car. “I can go if this isn’t a good time.”
He grabbed my hand and pulled me inside. “Are you crazy? Of course I want you to stay.” He took in the length of me before returning his gaze to my face. “God, you look incredible.”
“Thank you,” I said. I found it difficult to keep eye contact. I was unbelievably nervous—probably something to do with the now-discarded notion that he no longer wanted to see me.
As I stood in the foyer, I looked around. The two front rooms were empty of furniture, and drop cloths were spread over the floors. Apparently this part of the house wasn’t being lived in yet.
“So…” I said. “You bought the old Kuster place.”
“I wanted to tell you the other day, but it just didn’t seem like the right time.” He gestured to the drop cloths. “It’s still a work in progress.”
“I love what you did to the outside.”
“It had to be done. The old siding was rotting, and—” He stopped at the look on my face. “You don’t want to hear this, do you?”
“No, I do. It’s just—”
“You’re pissed.” He ran a hand through his hair. “And you have every right to be. I’m sorry. After I went to Otis’s and b
ought stuff for dinner, I was so tired, and I lay down for a nap. It was only supposed to be a short one, but I guess…”
“It’s okay. I’m not angry. What did Otis say?”
“Nothing very helpful. I don’t think he’s involved.” He gave me a quick run-down of his encounter with Otis.
“You’ve got a lot going on with this investigation. And you’re obviously exhausted. We should reschedule.”
He smiled. “No way. I’m not letting you get out of here that easily. I’ve been looking forward to getting you alone all day.” He took my hand again and led me down the hall.
When we reached the back, my breath caught. “Coop, this is beautiful.”
Though the front of the house still needed work, the back was nearly finished. A large open room included the kitchen, a dining area with a long farm table, and a living area with a gorgeous stone fireplace. The furniture was all natural wood, and everything was decorated in shades of gray with black accents, matching the exterior. Windows along the back invited the outside in, the late-afternoon sun bathing the heart pine floors in golden light.
“Thank you,” Coop said, obviously proud.
“When did you have time to do all this?”
“Actually, it was while Mr. Kuster was still living here. I wanted to stay busy while I worked through… some issues. Mr. Kuster was renovating the house, so I got a job with the contractor, and… this is the result.”
I thought about how hard I had worked to help Grammy pack up her dining room today. I had gotten so lost in the project that I’d almost lost track of time. So I could understand Coop’s desire to throw himself into manual labor.
“Anyway,” Coop continued, “we were just finishing up this kitchen when Mr. Kuster suffered a massive heart attack.”
“He died?” I said, placing a hand over my heart. “I hadn’t heard that. I assumed he just moved.”
“Oh, he’s fine. Made a full recovery. But he saw that as a sign that it was time to go to Florida to be closer to his brother. This big ol’ house, not to mention all the land to take care of, was too much for him. So I bought it.”
I could see the excitement in his face. “I’m so happy for you, Coop. I know how much you loved this place.”
“If I’m remembering right, you loved this farm as much as I do.”
I turned from him and stared out the back windows. He was right. I loved everything about this property. It held so many special memories.
“Red or white?” he said behind me.
I spun around. “I’m sorry?”
He held up a bottle of red wine. “We’re having lasagna. It’s in the fridge—I just need to stick it in the oven when we’re ready. Would you like red or white? I have a chardonnay chilling if you’d prefer white.”
“No, red is perfect. Thank you.”
I crossed my arms and studied him as he opened the wine. While he let it breathe, he retrieved a couple of wine glasses from a cabinet.
“When did you have time to make lasagna?” I asked.
His eyes lifted, and he smiled. “Confession: Mom came over and put it together for me so that I could get a nap.” His face fell. “I’m really sorry I overslept.”
“It’s fine.” I waved a hand.
He poured a glass and brought it over to me. “Enjoy this while I go fix my hair. And yes, I realize that made me sound like a girl, but I can tell I have bed head, and I’d like to splash some cold water on my face.”
I smirked as I watched him go. But my amusement quickly morphed into a dull ache in my heart as I thought about all the changes that had occurred in his life, and how those changes hadn’t included me.
Twenty-One
Coop
I was so angry with myself for oversleeping. How was I supposed to win Lil back at this rate?
And was that really what I was trying to do?
As I stared at myself in the mirror, I realized the inevitable truth. Despite the secrets I was keeping from everyone, including Lil, concerning my job… and despite the need to, first and foremost, keep her safe from whatever threat had followed her to Paynes Creek… I was definitely trying to win her back.
We were meant to be together.
Instead of simply splashing cold water on my face, I took a world-record-fast shower and changed clothes, so that I would feel refreshed and wide awake. Because it was time to have a long-overdue conversation with Lil about what happened to us all those years ago.
But when I returned to the kitchen, Lil was gone.
I called out to her, but there was no answer. Had she left? Had she changed her mind?
Then I saw her out the window, standing on the back porch, staring in the direction of the barn. The barn that held so much meaning for us.
I decided to allow her a couple more minutes with her thoughts. I turned the oven to preheat, then lit the candles on the kitchen island I’d purchased earlier that day. They glowed softly in the shadows of the evening as the sun moved lower in the sky. When I felt that I had set the scene properly, I poured myself a glass of wine and ventured out to join Lil.
She was standing at the railing, holding her wine and still staring across the field that separated the house from the barn. Stepping up behind her, I placed a hand on her shoulder. She flinched in surprise.
“I’m sorry,” I said softly.
She turned. I was standing so close to her that I could hear the quickness of her breath at having been surprised. Wisps of blond hair blew across her face, and I badly wanted to tuck them behind her ears. But I was afraid to touch her—afraid that she might pull back.
“Why did you purchase the Kuster place?” she asked.
It was a simple question—with a complicated answer.
I lifted my head and looked over her shoulder at the setting sun. I could just see the shadowed outline of another barn in the distance. My closest neighbor, Faith Day, lived over that way. Or at least, she did when she was in town, which lately, she hadn’t been. Her childhood home had burned down years ago, so instead she lived in an Airstream—a very fancy trailer—until she got around to rebuilding. Faith was another example of a life marked by tragedy at a young age.
When I looked at Lil again, she was waiting patiently for an answer.
“Some of my happiest memories were on this farm,” I said. This time, when hair blew across her face, I did brush it back and tuck it behind her ears. My fingers lingered only a moment along her jawline.
“What about the Bureau? Have you left the FBI for good?”
I turned and leaned my elbows on the railing, swirling my pinot. “That’s a little more complicated.”
“Why?”
I rotated my head to look at her. “Chief Robinson talked to me this morning about becoming a detective with the Paynes Creek PD.” I felt guilty for avoiding the question and redirecting.
“Chief Robinson?”
“Tom Robinson. He’s new to Paynes Creek. He’s the interim police chief after what went down around here last year.”
“And would you want that? To be a small-town detective?”
“I’m considering it. But for now, I’m taking one day at a time.”
It wasn’t a complete lie. The chief really had spoken to me about becoming a detective, but only because he wasn’t privy to the fact that working as a patrol officer was simply a temporary cover.
I pulled back from Lil a couple of steps, unable to stand that close and not touch her. I was going to have to take this more slowly than I wanted. How could I start something with her while lying to her? Answer was: I couldn’t.
After taking a sip of wine, I changed the subject. “Working with Sheriff Daniels on what’s going on with you… it’s dredged up a lot of memories.”
“I’m sorry to drag you into my mess. It wasn’t my intention. I know you’ve been through a lot.”
I angled my head. “Don’t be sorry. That’s not why I said that. It’s time I worked through the things that happened in the past. But for now… let’s
go put the lasagna in. I promised you dinner.”
She followed me inside, and I slid the pasta into the oven. When I looked back up at her, she was standing in the candlelight, and she couldn’t have looked more beautiful.
“Coop, the past twelve years haven’t been easy on me.”
“I know. Of course I know.”
She looked down at her glass of wine, which she was now gripping with both hands. “I’ve been to so many therapists, spent countless hours trying to work through what happened. How much worse it would’ve been if I hadn’t escaped.” Her head lifted again, and her eyes bored into mine. She started to say something more, but stopped herself.
I rounded the island and took the wine out of her hand. After setting the glass beside mine on the counter, I pulled her into my arms. “I’ve wanted to tell you for so long just how sorry I am that I wasn’t there for you.”
She started to pull back, but when I held tighter, she relaxed into my hold and laid her head against my chest. “I don’t want you to be sorry. We were young, and what happened that night was neither of our faults.”
“But if I hadn’t talked you into sneaking out of the house to meet up with me…”
This time she did pull away, but only a little. She placed two fingers over my mouth. “I have never held you responsible for that night, Cooper. Not even when it happened. When you and I made love out by that barn… To this day, that remains one of the happiest moments of my life. Why do you think I still go there to sketch or write when I’m in town?”
“Because you like the feeling of danger when you trespass?”
We both chuckled, lightening the seriousness of the moment. There was never any real danger—Mr. Kuster would have forgiven us if he ever caught us trespassing. In fact he did forgive us when he found out what happened that night.
“I wish I had been stronger back then,” she said with regret.
“You were strong.”
Truth is in the Darkness (Paynes Creek Thriller Book 2) Page 12