by Jill Sanders
Tyler stood in the police station’s lobby with his brothers the following day and listened to Mike retell Dennis’s story once more. Dennis kept talking about how Tyler must have planted Kristen’s shoe in the back of his truck and how the McGowan brothers had it out for him.
“He’s repeating the same story over and over.” Mike shook his head. “His wife isn’t corroborating his story of being home when Kristen was grabbed. She says that he didn’t return to the house until after a few hours after dark that day. We’ll need to question Kristen, see if she knows or saw anything.”
“They’re going to discharge her later today,” Tyler said. “I’ll be taking her back to my place.”
Mike nodded. “Mind if I swing by later and have another quick chat with her?”
“I’d prefer it be tomorrow, but I know Kristen believes the sooner she gets it over, the better.” He sighed. In fact, it had taken a lot to convince her to spend the rest of the morning resting instead of coming down to the station with him. In the end, the nurse had come in and told her they wouldn’t release her until that afternoon.
Tyler had left only after her mother had shown up with her bag of clothes and promised to not leave her side until he returned to get her. He’d tried to convince Trisha to stay out at his place with them, but she assured them that she was already settled in with his mother.
“What happens to him if we can’t prove he was the one who took Kristen?” Tyler asked.
Mike sighed and started walking over toward his desk. Tyler followed the man. “Well, unless we find something tying him to her disappearance . . .”
“Other than the shoe?” Trent asked.
Mike nodded. “Other than the shoe, we’ll have to let him go.” Tyler watched Mike toss his keys down on the desk in frustration. “We all know, everyone in the station, that you didn’t plant the shoe.”
“What about the food, the bottles of water?” Tyler asked, sitting down, his eyes still on Mike’s keys, held together with a silver Superman key chain. Everyone knew that Mike’s son had died several years back, after a long battle with cancer. Mike had sent the five-year-old off with a superhero funeral and had kept the Superman ring on his keys as a reminder. Tyler couldn’t imagine losing a son. It had devastated Mike and his wife, Carla. So much so that Carla had left Haven to go live with her folks in California.
“Anyone could make sandwiches and get bottled water.” Mike leaned back in his chair.
“What about the sleeping bag?” Trey asked.
“From what we can tell, it’s been in the cave for years.” He reached out and fingered the Superman symbol. A move that told Tyler that Mike was deep in thought.
“Did you find a silver bracelet?” he asked.
Mike looked at him and frowned. “No.”
“Trisha, Kristen’s mother, made it for her. She says she lost it.”
“Was she wearing it when she was taken?” Mike asked.
“She always wears it. It’s a unique design. Two hearts interlocked.” He reached over and took a pen and drew a sketch of it on a piece of paper. “Trisha has a matching one.”
“We’ll keep an eye out for it. It could still be up in the cave?” Mike suggested.
Tyler was about to sit down, but something was nagging him. His eyes were drawn to Mike’s keys laying on the desk. He stopped halfway down to the chair and froze. His breath, his heart, and even his hearing ceased. In his mind, he was back in the cave. Looking for any clue.
Suddenly Tyler’s mind sharpened. “The door.” He straightened up quickly. “The lock. Did you find the lock?”
“The padlock from the door?” Mike paused playing with his keys, then smiled. “A lock is bound to have a key.”
Tyler nodded. “Tell me you have his keys.”
“We took them when we booked him.” He stood up. “Go back to the hospital. I’ll keep you posted.” He turned and disappeared down the hallway.
Tyler did what Mike asked. He didn’t want to leave Kristen for too long. Even if he knew that both her mother and his were most likely keeping her company.
When he walked back into Kristen’s room, he smiled. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, freshly showered and dressed in her own clothes. No tubes running from her arms. Trisha and his mother were there, talking to her. Everyone stopped and watched him walk in.
He’d stopped by the store and had picked up a bunch of wildflowers in a silver vase and when he entered the room, he suddenly felt stupid as three sets of eyes watched him.
“What?” he asked after everyone remained silent. It was as if they had been talking about him and didn’t want him to know it.
He watched as both his mother and Kristen’s smiled up at him.
“They’re beautiful,” Kristen broke in. “For me?” She stood up and walked toward him.
“Did they clear you to leave?” he asked, handing over the flowers and giving her a quick kiss.
“We’re waiting for them to discharge her now,” his mother said. “What did they say down at the station?”
“They’re checking into something,” he replied, watching Kristen bring the flowers up to her face and smell.
“We’re heading over to your mother’s place for dinner,” Trisha said.
“I’ll let Mike know that he can swing by when he knows something.” He turned to Kristen. “He had a few questions for you. If you feel up to it later.”
Her smile slid slightly, but she nodded before turning away from him. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back against him. “Hey,” he whispered. “We’re in this together,” he said softly.
Two hours later, after eating one of his mother’s best meals of roasted chicken, wild rice, and veggies, they all sat around in his mother’s living room. Tyler held Kristen close on the sofa, while Kristen’s mother and his mother sat across from them. Mike and his brothers stood. Everyone waited for Mike to fill them in.
“So?” Gail finally said impatiently. “Did we get him?”
“We found the Master lock and matched it with a key on Dennis’s key ring.” Mike smiled. “We lifted fingerprints from the lock and have matched them with Dennis. So, yeah, we got him this time.”
“Did he say anything?” Tyler asked. Kristen’s hand was in his.
“When we told him about his key working on the lock, he tried to pin it on you again.” Mike chuckled and shook his head. “It took less than half an hour before he opened up to us.”
“And?” Tyler asked, leaning closer.
“From what he said, he’s been pocketing some of the NewField checks. We’re looking deeper into it, but we did find a stack of McGowan invoices in the glove box of his truck.”
“Why would he do that?” Gail asked.
“He’s not giving us any more on the subject. Only that he took Ms. Howell to throw you off the trail.”
“Is he the one who broke into my hotel room?” Kristen asked.
Mike shook his head. “We asked him about that, but he swears it wasn’t him. We’re checking with Crystal to confirm that he was home that night.”
Mike turned to Tyler. “Dennis said he got spooked when he found out that you’d called his office and threatened to call corporate about the missing checks.”
“Yeah,” Tyler leaned forward. “Rea had called them a few times. They claimed they had sent the checks, but we hadn’t gotten them. I called the other day and mentioned I’d have to call corporate if we didn’t see anything from them soon.” It dawned on him. “Damn.” He stood up. “Of course.”
“What?” everyone said at the same time.
“Their payments to us always go through the local branch.” He walked over to the windows. “I should have known.” He turned back toward everyone. “I would have pieced it together . . . if I hadn’t been so distracted.” His eyes landed on Kristen. “We send our invoices to NewField’s corporate office, and they turn around and pay the local branch, who forwards payment on to us. Every payment we get from them goes through
Dennis. It was one of the things my father hated about working with them, but”—he shrugged—“how others run their business is out of our control.”
“So why didn’t Dennis pay up?” Mike asked. “Think he was pocketing the funds? We’re looking into his accounts.”
“He did make a pretty big bid on McGowan,” Kristen added, causing everyone to turn toward her. “It was one of the early offers you turned down. Before JB’s,” she added.
Tyler turned to her. “Dennis or NewField never made an offer. I would have known about it.”
“R&R Enterprises gave you an offer two weeks after your father passed away.” She shifted. “Dennis Rodgers is a partner in R&R.”
He thought about it for a moment. “So what? He thought he could withhold NewField’s money from us and that would do what? Do you really think he intended to use that money to try and buy us out?” He shook his head.
“Maybe he hoped that if you didn’t get paid, you’d go under? Then you’d have no option but to sell out?” Trisha suggested.
Tyler shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense. It’s like robbing Peter to pay Paul—buying a company with funds that that company was owed.”
“I don’t know.” Kristen sighed and Tyler noticed how pale and tired she looked. “None of it really makes sense. I get the feeling that there’s something more behind it all.” She raised a hand to her forehead. “If I had some time to go through past invoices again, I’m sure I could figure it out.”
He didn’t doubt it. After all, she was the one who had found the unpaid invoices in the first place. Even Rea hadn’t found half of them. But just looking at her now, he knew it wasn’t the time to get to the bottom of everything.
“I think it’s time I took you home.” He walked over and pulled Kristen up into his arms. “We can figure this out later. Right now, Kristen needs her rest.”
“I’ll follow you out,” Mike said, getting up. “If we find out more, I’ll let you know.”
They drove to his place in silence and when they pulled up, he shut the truck off and shifted toward her. He reached up and brushed her hair aside. “You scared me.”
She closed her eyes as he pulled her across the seat and wrapped his arms around her.
“I scared you?” She sighed into his chest. “I thought I’d never see you again.” She pulled back slightly.
He opened the door and pulled her out the driver’s side. She laughed as he carried her up the stairs and onto the porch.
“Wait,” she said, stopping him from going inside. “I want to enjoy the fresh air.” She glanced around his dark yard. “It’s warmed up and I just really want to be outside right now. To be able to see the sky.”
He nodded, and instead of going inside, moved over and sat down on the swing he’d bought last week. He shifted until she sat cradled in his lap. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close.
She sighed and looked up at the clear night sky. “What a difference from last night.”
He sighed. “I think that was the last snow we’ll get until next fall.”
He felt her shiver and almost suggested they go inside where it was warm, but she snuggled closer and when his eyes met hers, he doubted the shiver had anything to do with the temperature.
“I shouldn’t have let you walk away.” He frowned. “I should have . . .”
“Tyler, there wasn’t anything you could do.” She leaned back and looked up at him. “There’s so much I didn’t get to tell you.” Her hands came up and cupped his face.
“Like?” he asked.
“I quit my job.” She smiled.
He felt his heart skip. “Does Mr. Burnett know this?”
She smiled. “Yeah, I told him just before . . .” Her smile fell away. “When I left your office that day—”
“Don’t.” He cupped her chin. She had bruises on her cheek and scratches in places. Her eyes still looked hollow, but he could see that her coloring was getting better. She was alive and with him now and he didn’t plan on letting her go so easily this time. “Don’t think about it.”
“I don’t want to live in the city anymore,” she said, tears sliding down her cheeks.
“You don’t?” He brushed them away with his thumb as his heart skipped. He couldn’t stop the smile playing on his lips.
She shook her head. “No. I never thought I’d enjoy the country.” She glanced around and her smile returned. “But I find the air here to be very pleasant.”
“Just the air?” He turned her face back to his by using a finger under her chin.
“That . . . and this.” She leaned forward and placed her lips over his.
It was like home. Her body melted against his. He knew he had to be gentle with her since she was still covered in bruises and cuts. His hands ran over her slowly as she kissed him with such need that his body responded quickly.
He nudged her back so he could look at her. “Let me take you inside. You need some rest.”
She shook her head. “Just a few more minutes. There’s still so much I have to say to you. I don’t want to go to bed without saying this.” She smiled up at him. “I promised myself that if I got out of that cave, that I wouldn’t waste any more time.”
“Okay,” he shifted her closer.
“I love you,” she said, causing his heart to skip. “I’ve never said that to a man before.” She smiled. “I didn’t think I would be lucky enough to find someone like you.”
He’d wanted to tell her those three little words himself. But had planned to wait, to make the moment special, with candlelight, champagne, and . . . moonlight. One out of three wasn’t bad.
“I love you.” He leaned down and placed his lips over hers softly. “I can’t let you go. I don’t want to. I want to be with you, here.” He rested his forehead on hers. “Please tell me you’re okay with staying in a double-wide until we can build our home. Together.” He glanced at her.
Her eyes sparkled. “I’m more than okay with it.” She chuckled. “As long as you’re good with being in a committed relationship with an out-of-work woman who loves to shop.”
He laughed too. “Committed relationship?” He sighed and shook his head. “I think we could do better than that.”
“Oh?” she asked, wrapping her arms around his shoulders again. “What were you thinking?”
“Marry me,” he blurted out, then felt like kicking himself. “I can do better at a proposal, but . . .”
She placed a kiss on his lips, silencing him.
“I don’t want better. That was perfect. The third time’s the charm. I’ll take it, and you, just the way you are.”
“Is that a yes?” He waited, his heart refusing to beat until she answered him.
“Yes,” she said and then kissed him again.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo © 2015 Daryl Sanders
Jill Sanders is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Pride Series, Secret Series, West Series, and Grayton Series romance novels. Her sweet and sexy stories, available in print and audio in every English-speaking country, continue to lure new readers and are currently being translated into six different languages. Born an identical twin to a large family in the Pacific Northwest, she relocated to Colorado for college and a successful IT career. She then discovered her talent as a writer. Now she makes her home along the Emerald Coast in Florida, where she enjoys the beach, hiking, swimming, wine tasting, and of course, writing. Visit her at www.JillSanders.com.