When Fall Fades (The Girl Next Door Series Book 1)

by Simpson, Amy Leigh

  “What’s going on? You’re late. Are you all right? Why didn’t you answer my call?”

  “Yeah, it’s a long story.” Sadie exited the car, and walked arm in arm with her mom into her childhood home.

  In the dining room, Finn sighed and gave an exaggerated glance at his nonexistent watch. “Well, nice of you to join us.”

  Adopting a serene expression, Sadie primly placed a napkin on her lap. “Once you hear about my evening, you’re gonna feel bad you were so snarky to me, Finnegan.”

  He rolled his eyes. “What happened this time?”

  By the time she’d finished recounting her experience with Charlie’s intruder, her mother’s face was as white as her pristine table cloth.

  “Well, you’re staying here tonight. I won’t have you going back there by yourself in the dark. A pretty girl like you? I don’t even want to think about what could have happened!”

  Sadie thought about refusing, but decided against it. Because although she would never admit it out loud, she was pretty shaken up. The vicious grip of the man’s hands on her. The aggressive taunt and the cruel satisfaction in his eyes. Nausea hissed from her stomach. “Okay, Mom, I’ll stay.”

  “Where was the Ruger I bought you?” her father said. “You should always carry that gun—never know when you’re going to need it.”

  “I’m starting to realize that now. This is the second time this week I wished I’d had it with me.” She realized her faux pas the instant it passed her lips.

  “The second time! When was the first time?” Her mother shrieked.

  “Mom, the first time was a false alarm. It wasn’t a big deal just a little scare, that’s all.” Without a thought to her spectators, Sadie smiled, remembering the look on Agent Hayes’s face when he’d realized she was the one who’d taken him down. He was probably used to more delicate women. But somehow she could see he respected that she wasn’t some wilting-flower-Scarlett O’Hara type. Maybe not as much now since she’d so pathetically withered in his arms at the first sign of trouble. But perhaps the verbal whiplash that followed helped her save face.

  Her parents eyed each other, obviously wondering if their daughter had completely lost it.

  Finn, still slack-jawed, had been rendered speechless. That’s a first.

  “What, nothing to say, Finny?” She elbowed him.

  “Sorry, Sadie Cakes.” He was solemn for a brief moment. A very brief moment before he cleared his throat and elbowed her back. “Well it’s a good thing we picked on you so much growing up, toughened you up pretty good.”

  “Yeah, thanks a lot.” She slugged him in the arm. Finn laughed, while nonchalantly rubbing his wound.

  “All right you two, not at the table. Sadie, you haven’t even touched your lasagna, it’s your favorite.”

  The excitement of the evening had knotted her stomach into a queasy mess. The only thing that could make her night worse would be to upchuck her favorite meal. “Sorry Mom, I’m not all that hungry anymore. I’ll probably nuke some later.”

  That seemed to satisfy her mother for now, though the woman could seriously benefit from some Valium.

  The evening wore down. Finn left and her parents retired for the night, leaving Sadie hunkered down on the couch absently flipping through the channels. Her mind reeling with unanswered questions about Charlie’s intruder: What was he looking for? Had he taken anything? Would they be able to tell if he did? Was he the one who killed Charlie? Might he have killed her, too? Will he try to come back again? Would he target her this time? Could she recognize his eyes if she saw him again?

  The whole scenario grew increasingly fuzzy and surreal as it jogged around her drowsy mind on repeat. Except one part that played back with perfect clarity—the feeling of being in Agent Hayes’s arms.

  What was that all about? The emotions of the moment had been running high, so she conceded that must have been it. His professional concern. Her weak need for comfort. Nothing more. And she hadn’t really kissed his neck. More like dragged her mouth over his skin. For one second. An accidental graze really. Another one. He’d probably forgotten all about it.

  Clicking off the TV, she leaned back and crossed her arms over her eyes. Thankful this day and her slip up with Agent Hayes were behind her.

  Sadie woke to the sound of Millie, her parents’ maltipoo’s high-pitched yipping. Unfolding her arms from her face, a flood of morning sunshine wriggled into the heavy slits of her eyes. “New mercies.” She muttered, craning her stiff neck, grateful for a rare dreamless sleep, however uncomfortable.

  Her mother entered the family room where Sadie had fallen asleep for the night. Handing her a large mug of coffee, she smoothed Sadie’s defiant hair behind her ear like she’d done a million times over the years, and sat beside her on the couch, pulling Sadie’s legs onto her lap.

  “Your old room was all made up—you didn’t have to sleep on the couch.”

  “Oh, I know, Mom, I just sort of passed out.” Ripples formed in the steaming cup as she blew across the creamy surface. It was mainly the caffeine, but there was also some magical awakening quality in the rich aroma of fresh coffee.

  Her mom laid her hands on Sadie’s feet. Her touch was warmly familiar and silky soft. Felt like home. “Are you doing all right? It seems like it’s been a rough week.”

  Sadie curled her fingers around the toasty mug and nodded, keeping her emotions in check. “Yeah, but I’m hangin’ in.” She attempted confident, but must have produced a sort of sad smile.

  Her mom’s hard swallow and averted gaze gave her away. “You don’t always have to be so strong you know.”

  “I’m working on it.” She cleared the sudden tickle in her throat. “Are you guys coming to the memorial service tomorrow?”

  “We wouldn’t miss it.”

  Chapter 11

  Archer Hayes

  After following up with the officers on the scene, Archer headed home. He dragged his hand across the day’s worth of scruff on his cheek and stared out at the road, the white lines a fleeting blur, running together like his days, weeks, years of fighting the same weary battle.

  Wishing he could put his mind to rest for the evening didn’t stop his mechanical impulse to review their leads. It turned out that Roger Halwell was MIA from Shady Village because he’d been hospitalized for some serious heart palpitations. It was possible he was the last person alive who knew about Charlie’s days in the aviation battalion, unless they could decipher any information from the ramblings of the journals. Which meant Archer would have to pay the old man a visit at the hospital.

  And hospital’s made him nervous. Too many tainted memories of picking up his father, sloshed and beaten to a pulp from his long-standing tradition of bar fights. Although, whatever he needed to do to keep his aggressive behavior out of their house suited Archer just fine. And somehow the justice of Roy Hayes’s constant assaults helped Archer contain the rage building against the man who’d ripped them from city to city, violating every vow of marriage and family.

  Tamping down the miserable flashes of his youth, Archer set his mind back on work, as always, the perfect distraction.

  Where was I?

  Leads.

  Charlie’s son might know something about it if Roger Halwell turned out to be a bust. And at least they’d gotten some decent information from Charlie’s friend, Al Wexler. Archer had people tracking down information about the mysterious letter and irate-looking Frank from the old photograph. He knew it might be a long shot, but most clues to a case like this one started out that way.

  After the fiasco at Charlie’s, Archer had sent the team back over to see if anything turned up missing or if they could find any trace evidence left behind by the intruder. So far his cell phone was quiet. And other than not having received an earful from Jensen, no calls was not a good
sign.

  Concentrating his efforts to keep to the facts of the case proved useless when Sadie wandered into his mind. There was no turning back from reliving the indescribable panic that overtook him when he knew she was in danger—the desperate need to cling to her when he realized she was safe. It was uncharacteristic for him to get so emotionally involved in a case, but based on his reaction today he was having a hard time convincing himself it was just a fluke.

  How had he come to care about this girl he knew almost nothing about in less than a week? He shook his head, hoping to expel the absurd feelings before needing to have the stubborn thing examined. For some ridiculous reason, when he’d held her in his arms, he felt an indescribable peace wash over him. Like she belonged there, like she was some missing piece in his puzzle—which was crazy.

  And the way her soft body molded into his made him desire things he’d denied himself for a long, long time. No distractions. Period.

  The allure of Sadie—more fascinating than the murder investigation—had him in uncharted waters. More like enemy territory. There was something about her that was sort of puzzling and captivating. Things that, as an investigator, beckoned him to seek out an explanation for the unwelcome attraction. An equally appealing option was to just forget about it … about her.

  He wasn’t a relationship kind of guy, couldn’t be. His job, if nothing else, made sure of that. But it didn’t change the fact that there were things he wanted to know about her that went beyond the scope of the case.

  Then again, he did have resources at his disposal.

  Archer pulled in to the parking garage of his apartment, deciding to burn off some steam in the weight room before turning in for the night. After an hour of torturing his body—figuring it would give his mind a break—he headed up to his loft and collapsed in front of the TV.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d watched an actual TV show or a movie. Flipping through the channels and finding nothing, he understood why.

  Aha, Cardinals game was on. Propping up his feet, he settled into the cool embrace of the leather couch for a night of what most people would consider normalcy. Moments later, he was fast asleep.

  “Hey Archer, I’m over here.”

  Archer turned and was paralyzed by the sight of Sadie gliding toward him in a flowing peach-colored evening gown. Her hair illuminated under the streetlights, slightly curled and silky, spilling like liquid sunshine over her bare shoulders. “I ...” He stammered. “You look ...” No amount of eloquent words could do her justice.

  A playful smile etched tiny dimples in her cheeks, her skin shimmering and golden. She was, in a word, radiant. “What’s the matter, cat gotcha tongue?”

  He nodded, his eyes never leaving her. “Apparently.”

  “I’ve got to get in there. Here ...” She held out her hand to him and he reached for her—

  Something loud and shrill poked at the delicious moment.

  A dream?

  He reached blindly for his nightstand before peeking open one eye to find that he was on the couch. Forcing himself upright, he grimaced at the intense knot in his neck. But it wasn’t just the couch. The stress was getting to him. His body was a wreck. “Great,” he muttered as he shuffled to the kitchen counter to grab his phone. “Hayes.”

  “Dude, seriously, you’ve got to get a new alarm clock.”

  Archer’s morning grogginess vanished when he saw the clock. “Unbelievable. I’m on my way.” He hung up to Sal’s chuckling. What had gotten into him lately? Amazing that he’d gotten a promotion when apparently he couldn’t show up to work on time.

  Not twenty minutes later he pulled in to the bureau and hauled it up to his office. At Sal’s knock, he motioned for him to enter.

  “I’m not gonna say anything.” Sal held up surrendered hands and smirked.

  “Good. What have you got for me?”

  “All business today. Okay boss.”

  Archer shot him a peeved look.

  “We tracked down some old employment records and it turns out, one Frank Snyder was let go due to several complaints about some of his dangerous and unsanctioned aircraft modifications.”

  “Let me guess, complaints came from Charlie Westwick.”

  “You got it.”

  “Were you able to track him down?”

  “Yup, retired and lives with his wife in Maryland Heights.”

  “Great. What about the author of the threatening letter?”

  “Still workin’ on it, waiting to hear back with a roster of personnel from the battalion. We’ll cross-reference that info with medical records coinciding with the year of the attempted suicide. Hopefully something will turn up.”

  “Good, keep me posted.”

  “Will do, Sarge.” Sal saluted comically, the gesture delivering a gut-wrenching blow that stole the breath from Archer’s lungs.

  Sal’s smile evaporated. “What’s wrong?”

  Archer shook his head, shaking away a bad memory and a strange light-headed rush. Wincing at the tremor in his voice, he said, “Nothing. Just do me a favor and don’t call me that.”

  Sal’s solemn nod issued a silent agreement of understanding before he left Archer’s office, leaving a ghost behind.

  Archer got to work checking his messages, among them, a call from his mom. Instantly regretting that he kept forgetting to return her calls, he pressed the receiver to call her when the phone rang in his hand. “Hayes.”

  “Hi, Agent Hayes this is Connie Langford. I’m Roger Halwell’s nurse at St. Anthony’s Hospital.”

  “Hi Connie, what can I do for you?”

  “Well, Mr. Halwell mentioned an Agent Salivas contacted him and said you had planned on visiting today. He asked me to call to let you know he was just scheduled for surgery to fix his pacemaker at three so he wanted to see if you could come to the hospital before then.”

  Archer grated at the thickness in his throat and glanced at his watch. “Uhh, yeah I can head there soon. Thank you for calling.”

  Looks like he was going to the hospital.

  Wonderful.

  “Can’t we get a better spot than this?” Sal snapped his fingers, suddenly enlightened. “Isn’t there like a reserved police or security guard spot we could snag? We’re like a mile from the entrance.”

  “There, there, sonny. We’ve got a nice day here. You can work all that excess energy out before nappy-time.” He smirked as Sal snorted out a laugh.

  “Fine, but you’re buying lunch after this. And hospital cafeteria food doesn’t count.” Sal raised his chin victoriously. “You know, it is really nice out … huh.”

  Archer shook his head. “Sal, you’re a real piece a work.”

  “Gee thanks, Hayes.” He flashed his signature grin and strode ahead through the sliding glass doors.

  Archer was thankful that they rode the elevator up in blessed silence and were in Roger’s room without any delay, even though the sterile sights and antiseptic smells gripped him with an unease that was all too familiar. “Thank you for seeing us today, Mr. Halwell. I know you’ve got a lot going on right now, so we’ll try not to take much of your time.”

  The man’s frail form and fixed eyes pinned an unsettling ache to Archer’s chest.

  Shallow breaths displaying the only signs of life until he spoke, “You can call me Roger. I heard about Charlie, what a shame. I didn’t even know he was still living in St. Louis.” Roger’s cataract-clouded brown eyes flickered to where they sat. A wild mangle of silver bed head stood unashamed in their presence.

  Sal nodded, seeming as shocked as Archer at the man’s veiled alertness. He took the lead. “Roger, we are investigating what happened to Charlie, and part of that investigation has led us back to your time in the service with him. We were wondering if there is anythi
ng you could tell us about the time you were with him before he finished his tour.”

  Roger sighed, the bony plane of his chest collapsing inward. “That was a long time ago, young man, but there are some things you never forget. What would you like to know?”

  “Well sir, there seems to have been some sort of incident that occurred before he left. Do you remember anything unusual?”

  Roger hesitated. “H-He told me to stay out of it for my own good … said the less I knew the better.” The thick grain of his sardonic laugh hinted at a generous smoking habit. “Unfortunately, that only stirred my curiosity all the more.”

  His eyes shifted uneasily, and he lowered his voice. “I still don’t know all the details, but I do know that Charlie caught some kind of major flaw in Captain Reamus’s combat planes. Someone said the captain had just sent a fleet of them out on a rogue, top secret mission. We were all pretty sure the Cap was into some bad stuff though no one knew what it was or why. He just was one of those guys you couldn’t trust even if you wanted to … I’m not sure how to explain it really.”

  Roger paused and downcast his gaze. “What I understood was Charlie tried to warn Reamus but he wouldn’t listen. So Charlie started digging around trying to figure out where the Cap had sent those planes and how he could authorize an abort before anyone got hurt. Next thing I knew, he was scrambling around trying to find this notebook he kept records and system checks and notes in. Once he grabbed it, he ran out just as fast as he came.

  “A few of us went looking for him.” With a slow shake of his head he continued. “He returned a few days later all bruised up and bleedin’. Never said a word about what happened. Shortly after that, his time was up and he was gone.”