Suddenly, her heart kicked with an overwhelming awareness that nearly stole her breath. An awareness that reminded her that God had created this beauty and more. He could keep her safe.
Closing her eyes, she breathed deep to fill her lungs. For a long moment she pondered that truth, waiting for peace to surround her. But niggling fears and doubt kept that from happening.
On a sigh, she tugged on the pull cord and lifted the blinds this time. The street was quiet, bathed in the soft orange glow of the historic ornamental streetlamps. She leaned in, casting her gaze around, slowly searching the yard and the street, watching for anything suspicious.
Nothing looked out of the ordinary. No lurking figures. No movement at all. However, who knew what lingered beyond the glow of the streetlamps? It was too dark to tell if anyone might be out there.
Stalking. Waiting.
Her nerves fluttered and she turned to glance out the window again. Taking careful assessment of the area, her gaze stalled on the neighbor’s house across the street. The wide front porch was lit, with a vehicle parked along the curb. Everything inside her froze.
Patrick’s truck.
The SUV resonated of commitment and security. Still, it was not enough to immediately dampen her concerns, the panic of the day still fresh in her mind.
She stood there a moment longer, taking a long pull of water as if to wash away her fears. Cleanse the memories that she could no longer hide.
“Patrick,” she muttered. A wave of gratitude swelled up to replace the melancholy. Regardless of past regrets, he was trying to protect her. She closed her eyes, breathed deep and lifted a prayer of gratefulness. Maybe God was protecting her.
*
At the rhythmic tap, tap, tap on the window, Patrick woke up instantly, alert and ready as his years as a navy SEAL had trained him. Squinting against the sun blaring through the windshield, he pulled himself up in the driver’s seat of his SUV. The last thing he remembered was dawn breaking.
“Good morning, Patrick.”
Turning, he met Amber’s eyes through the side window, and a warm rush of pleasure overrode the surprise. She smiled, cutting cute little dimples into her cheeks.
Patrick lowered the window. A brush of cool air mixed with Amber’s sweet perfume oozed through the opening. This was the first time since the investigation started that she actually appeared happy to see him. “Well, good morning, Amber.” He returned the smile.
“Sorry to wake you.”
“No problem. I dozed off, I guess.” He pulled himself up straighter in the seat. He never really slept. At least not deeply.
“I brought you some coffee.” She handed him an insulated mug through the open window. The rich aroma tugged at his senses. Caffeine—exactly what he needed.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Amber’s edgy smile and the blush creeping into her face as she went on warmed his heart. “I noticed you didn’t stray far last night.”
“Yeah, well, it’s just part of the job.”
Her shapely brows drew together, causing her eyes to narrow, and Patrick immediately wished the words back. Just part of the job… It sounded…well, as though he was just doing his job. Way too impersonal.
She gave a small shrug. “Still, I appreciate it.”
In reality, it was more than that. He wanted her safe and wasn’t about to trust anyone else with that job. He opened his mouth to clarify, but Amber took over.
“I brought you this.” She pulled a single sheet of paper from her bag and handed it to him. “It’s the list of people I remember seeing at the frat party. Most are old high school classmates.”
Patrick stepped out of the SUV and took the list from her, placing his drink on the hood. “We’ll start making calls today and get a statement from everybody. Who knows, maybe one of them will recall something that will help us.”
“I hope so.”
Patrick leaned against the door and studied the list, trying to put a face to the names he recognized. Eleven years was a long time, and he had a hard time recalling some of his classmates. He wondered how many would remember attending the fraternity party. Or even Amber Talbot. He didn’t pin much hope on any grand discoveries, but it never hurt to try.
Instinct told him to start his investigation with Carl, Bruce and Randall. He made that his number one priority for the day.
It chilled him to think that the man who’d attacked Amber and had drugged her and left her in an alley to die had been running free for the past eleven years. This criminal should have been brought to justice years ago.
Who knows, maybe things would have worked out differently between him and Amber? Maybe—
Whoa, Wiley… Leave it alone.
Patrick straightened up to his full six-foot-two height, gaining control of his runaway emotions. They had no business in this investigation. He folded the paper and stowed it in his pocket.
Everything happens for a reason, he reminded himself. Looking back, the odds had been against them from the get-go. Youth, immaturity and the fact that they’d attended separate colleges on the opposite sides of the state were hardly conducive to a lasting romance.
The sharp trill of his cell phone cut short his thoughts. He pulled it from his belt holster and held it to his ear. “Wiley here.”
“Good morning, Patrick.” Liza’s sultry voice drifted over the phone line. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No. I’m awake. What do you know?” Patrick glanced at his watch, wondering what time it was. Seven-twenty. He had napped some.
“Not even a good-morning?” Liza sighed.
“Sorry. Good morning, Liza.” Patrick’s gaze drifted back to Amber…to her sparkling green eyes. Eyes that met his and widened. He held up a finger and mouthed, I’ll be done in a minute. He didn’t want to take a chance of her scooting away.
She nodded and he smiled, noticing how nice she looked dressed in stylish jeans, a purple silk blouse and high-heel sandals. Her hair was pulled back in some delicate twist, except for a few unruly curls ruffling in the breeze.
Patrick swallowed, frustrated from even noticing her appearance.
“I did a little investigative search on the three names you sent last night.” Liza’s words brought his thoughts back to the job he needed to do.
“What did you come up with?”
“For one, Bruce Austin was a marine.”
“A marine? Interesting.”
“Don’t get too excited. He was killed in Iraq five years ago.”
Patrick’s heart sank a little. He and Bruce had never seen eye to eye on much. All through school they’d been fierce competitors in sports and academics. But Patrick felt a wash of sadness for anyone who had died for his country and was so young.
“Too bad about Bruce.” There was now one less suspect to contend with. “What about the other two?”
“Carl Shaw is employed by the Chatham County public school system. He works as a gym teacher and a coach for Cavalier High School.”
His and Amber’s alma mater. “Gym teacher and coach?” Patrick crossed one ankle over the other. “Well, if Carl’s the culprit, I’m sure he wouldn’t want a story about drugging and assaulting a woman to come out, not to mention attempted murder. What about Randall Becker?”
“Mr. Becker is the owner and manager of Coastal Karate School.”
Patrick gave a slow whistle. “Think of all those kids on his roster. He has a ton to lose also if rumors start flying.”
As he spoke, Amber stood ramrod straight, arms clasped tightly over her chest. Face blank, she stared at him. He sent her a tentative smile. She didn’t respond.
“That’s as much as I have so far. I thought you’d find it interesting.”
“I do. Thank you, Liza. I have a few more names I’ll be sending over to you today.”
“Or you can drop by with them. I’ll be here all day.”
Patrick changed the phone to the other ear, suddenly self-conscious about the direction of
the conversation with Amber standing in such close vicinity. Crazy. He had no intention of getting romantically involved with either woman. Still…
He cleared his throat. “I’ll email you the list. I have a lot going on today.”
“All right.” Liza sighed. “I’ll call if I come up with anything else.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
Patrick clicked off his phone, his eyes still on Amber. A succession of emotions flitted across her face from a touch of chagrin to annoyance.
“You told Liza what happened to me?” Her voice remained soft, but he could hear the hurt in her tone.
Patrick froze, stunned for a moment as he stared at her. Did she expect him to keep the information to himself? “Amber, everything that happened to you at the frat party is pertinent to this case. And everyone on the investigative team is privy to the data collected.”
“Of course. That makes perfect sense.” Amber shrugged, looking close to tears but trying to be nonchalant. “I just hadn’t considered who would need to know.”
Patrick took a step toward her. “Don’t think for a moment that I take what happened to you lightly. Believe me, I want whoever did this to you found and brought to justice.”
She nodded, her lashes lowering and shielding whatever emotion was in her eyes. “It’s all new to me,” she explained. “Talking about a part of my life I tried so hard to forget. Although I understand why it’s necessary.”
Her accepting words were completely at odds with the catch in her voice.
Sadness seized his chest like a giant fist clenching on to his heart when he thought about how long she’d kept this bottled up. Accepting the guilt for a crime in which she was the victim.
He knew it was a bad idea, but with her standing there, endeavoring to be strong, the need to comfort her catapulted to a new level. Patrick couldn’t keep himself from taking her in his arms. “I know this is difficult for you,” he whispered against the top of her head, “but please trust me. I’m going to walk with you through this and keep you safe.”
Nodding against his chest, she emitted a small sob. And then gingerly, she looped her slender arms around his waist, and in that split second, the world skidded to grinding halt.
Suddenly he couldn’t breathe. His mind was foggy with memories. He was eighteen again. The future was limitless, dreams firmly intact.
So quickly everything changed, setting them both on separate life paths.
He tightened his hold on Amber, allowing her to cry. He was glad she finally was able to release emotions she’d held on to for so long. At the same time, the pounding in his heart told him to keep his guard up. He was definitely treading on dangerous soil.
As she sobbed, Amber buried her head in his neck. He held her close, and the way she melted against him felt so right.
Too right.
This wasn’t good.
Patrick took a deep breath and gave her a hard squeeze before loosening his hold on her. “I know it’s been a tough few days.”
“Yes, it has been,” she muttered, separating herself from him. Instantly he missed the feeling of her warmth.
Digging deep for composure, Patrick shoved his hands into his pockets, conflicting emotions eating at him. There was a crazy person after Amber, and his job was to take that creep down. The last thing he needed was the distraction of his emotions.
Amber wiped away the last of her tears, and a slight smile appeared on her face, though it was tinged with sadness. Her stoic demeanor slipped back into place. “Thank you, Patrick, for everything you’re doing to get this crime solved. It means a lot.” She was looking up at him with those wide, beautiful eyes—twin pools of captivating warmth.
“You’re welcome.” Patrick nodded, searching for that professional facade he needed to keep himself focused. All the while he was kicking himself for caving to an emotional moment.
He shouldn’t have taken her in his arms.
And he wouldn’t let it happen again.
SIX
Cavalier High School was located just outside the Savannah city limits. Patrick knew the route well, having gone there for four years. He took a side street off the highway, and then traveled several more miles before the school came into view. Amazingly, after all these years, it hadn’t changed a bit. Even the designated areas for parking. He steered past the student lot and parked his SUV in a space marked for visitors.
As he approached the entrance, he felt an uneasy twinge. It had been eleven years since he’d left Cavalier as a high school track-and-field star with hopes of a bright athletic future. At that time, his classmates had pegged him to have a string of endorsement deals by the time he was twenty-two. They’d also voted him and Amber as the most likely couple to get married and add a half dozen little athletes to the world population.
He almost laughed at the silly polls. A lot had happened since then, and his classmates couldn’t have been more wrong. Although at the time he half believed it.
In the school office, Patrick showed the receptionist his detective badge and asked to see Carl.
“Mr. Shaw is in class.” The lady, whose name tag read Margie Hopper, frowned. “If you need to see him now, I’ll have to send someone down to the gym to supervise his students while he talks to you.”
Patrick wasn’t dissuaded. “Okay.”
With a sigh, Ms. Hopper pushed herself up from her chair and made her way to the back office. A step from the door she stopped, glanced back. “I hope this isn’t about another speeding ticket he didn’t pay.”
Patrick gave a slight shrug. “I can’t say, ma’am.” Though Carl should be so fortunate.
He took a seat by the window to wait. The area was sparsely furnished. To his left sat a round table littered with college pamphlets. To his right, a few vinyl chairs were pushed up against the wall. This, too, looked like he remembered. Funny how some things never changed.
In contrast, his life was in a perpetual state of change. He never knew what God had in mind next.
Ten minutes into his wait Carl wandered into the office. He wore his blond hair military short, and a Cavalier High T-shirt clung to his muscular torso. “Margie, someone wanted to speak to me?”
Ms. Hopper said nothing, only jutted a finger in Patrick’s direction.
“Good morning, Carl.” Patrick stood.
Carl registered a look of surprise when he first turned, and then his face eased into a more pleasant expression. “Patrick Wiley. What on earth are you doing here?” He crossed the tile floor in two steps and extended his hand. “I had heard you joined the military.”
Patrick shook Carl’s hand. “You heard right. I served my time and now I work for the Savannah-Chatham Police Department.”
“Good for you.” Carl planted his legs apart, hands on his hips. “So to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Is there some place private that we can talk?”
Carl narrowed his eyes warily. “Yeah. Sure. Everyone should be in class. We can talk outside if that’s okay.”
Patrick nodded.
As they walked out of the building, Carl glanced over both shoulders and in front of him. “You know how rumors fly. I’m careful to keep my private business out of the gossip pool.”
He obviously hadn’t talked to Ms. Hopper. Patrick let that thought slide. “I understand.”
Patrick followed Carl along the covered walkway, stopping when they got to the far side of the building.
Carl leaned up against a redbrick pillar, crossing his arms. “Okay, I know why you’re here. But—” he flicked another nervous gaze around the area before meeting Patrick’s head-on “—I can assure you that my attorney told me all charges had been dropped. I mean, if I missed the court date or something, I’m completely unaware.”
Now Patrick was curious. The quick background check Liza had run on Carl revealed nothing significant. “What charges are you referring to, Carl?”
Carl leaned in. “The DWI.” His voice dropped another octave. “I’ve h
ad a few speeding tickets, but I swear to you, that DWI charge was bogus—”
“Woo, Carl.” Patrick held up a staying hand. “This isn’t about a DWI.”
Carl drew back in surprise. “It’s not?”
Patrick shook his head. “No. I’m here to talk to you about a particular party that your fraternity hosted.”
“A college party?”
Patrick nodded. “One that took place your freshman year of college. It was an end-of-the-year bash.”
“Freshman year?” Carl echoed, his voice slightly rising. “That’s been forever ago. Why are you asking questions now?”
Patrick shifted his weight, half agreeing with Carl. The questions he needed to ask should have been addressed years ago, as well as bringing the culprit to justice. His stomach roiled at the thought. It was something he hoped to rectify soon. Patrick crossed his arms, kept his voice even. “We have reason to believe something that happened that night may be tied to the recent car-bombing case.”
“Car bombing?” Carl straightened and pulled away from the pillar. “The one that involved Amber Talbot?”
“That’s correct.” While Patrick spoke, he studied Carl, searching his face, watching his body language. “I see you’ve been following the story.”
Carl widened his stance, drew up his shoulders. “Yeah. I mean, it’s been big news around here. Everyone’s talking about it. I also read that Amber was attacked at her home by some unknown assailant.” His brows scrunched together. “I feel bad for her, but I don’t understand how any of that involves me.”
That was what Patrick wanted to know, too. He shifted, cleared his throat. “Did you recall attending your fraternity’s end-of-the-year party?”
Carl lowered his eyes and then looked straight at Patrick. “Yeah, I was there. Along with about half the freshman class.”
Patrick held Carl’s gaze boldly. “Tell me what you remember about that night in terms of Amber.”
In a nonchalant move, Carl rested against the pillar again, hooking his thumbs into his belt loops. “Well, I guess, like the rest of us, Amber drank a little too much. She was stumbling around, not making any sense. A few of us guys started razzing her, you know, asking what you’d think about her out partying. That kind of stuff.”
Love Inspired Suspense March 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: Protection DetailHidden AgendaBroken Silence Page 45