It hit her at precisely that moment. There was someone. Someone he cared about and cared about deeply if his look was any indication. And he completely shocked her when he admitted it.
“There is this one woman.”
Shannon fluttered her lashes. “Do tell.”
He hip checked her, nearly knocking her off the couch. “Shut up.”
“Okay. I’m sorry. You looked so serious I was trying to lighten the mood. And I’ll tell Mom if you try to knock me off the couch again.” She laughed. “Do you remember the time you shoved Rachel off the couch and broke her collar bone?”
He groaned. “Yeah, I felt like shit. Remember Mom thought she was being a baby. It wasn’t until Dad got home, examined Rachel and convinced Mom it was broken that they went to the hospital.”
“Oh yeah, she wouldn’t get the Mother of the Year Award for that.”
“Right, but any other year she would. By the way, can I tell the story now?” he said.
“Go ahead, tell away.”
“Thank you. There’s someone I care very much for. I’ve never dated her nor have I asked her out. Can you believe it?” He inhaled deeply and exhaled loudly. “I’m afraid of being rejected.”
She put her hand on his. “Mitch.”
“Men have doubts too, you know.”
“I know.” My God, she never in a million years would have thought Mitch insecure when it came to women. She must be special indeed.
He combed his fingers through his hair. “Well, I’ve secretly been in love with her for a year now. She’s a vice-president for Brentin International. I only see her at the times when I pilot the jet she’s traveling in, which happens to be at least twice a month. When she travels with me, she sits in the cockpit and acts as my copilot. Believe it or not she also has her pilot’s license.” He ran his hands through his hair once again. “Hell, I don’t think there’s anything the woman can’t do. She’s amazing. She grew up in Texas in a large family on a humongous ranch and learned to pilot helicopters and small planes when she was in her teens. She graduated from the University of Texas and received her MBA from Harvard and the rest is history.”
“How old is she?”
He snorted. “I only know because I had to check her pilot’s license the first time we flew together. She’s thirty-two. And I know what you’re thinking after meeting Brittany today. You’re thinking it’s about damn time I dated someone my own age.”
“Well, if you don’t mind me pointing it out, she’s actually three years older than you.”
He laughed. “Oh, yeah, I know. Last week I flew her home to Texas for a vacation, and I spent the night at her family’s ranch outside of Dallas. You wouldn’t believe the size of the place. It’s incredible. And I was taken completely by surprise when she invited me to spend the night at the ranch instead of at a hotel by the airport.”
He had Shannon’s undivided attention now. She stared intently at him, waiting for more. No, not waiting, hoping for some juicy details. Christ, she was like a little kid. “So,” she blurted out, encouraging him to go on.
“So nothing. It was nearly dinnertime when we arrived so we drove straight to the ranch and had dinner with her family.”
“Yeah and don’t tell me you didn’t make a move?”
He smiled and actually blushed. “After dinner we went for a ride out on the ranch in the moonlight. It’s a good thing I know how to ride a horse or I’d have made an ass of myself. She’s one hell of a natural rider. We stopped and sat along this river for a while. I don’t know which river? Hell, I don’t know anything about Texas, except compared to Massachusetts, its one big ass state.” His voice suddenly softened. “Did I tell you she’s beautiful?”
Shannon smiled. “No, you didn’t.” Why was she impressed that he just now mentioned her beauty? Usually it was the first thing Mitch remarked on. That alone spoke volumes about his true feelings.
“She is. She has the most gorgeous, long, deep auburn hair. It’s so thick and soft I could lose my fingers in it for days. She has the cutest mouth and the most perfect nose splattered with freckles. Her green eyes are as deep as the deepest part of the Atlantic.” He paused and chuckled. “Listen to me. I sound like some lovesick teenager. She’s the tinniest thing. Barely hits the top of my shoulders. Sitting with her on the banks of the river with the moonlight streaming down on us was the perfect setting. I wanted her so badly, I ached.”
Mitch groaned out and Shannon saw him blush. “I can’t believe I’m telling you all this?”
Shannon tried not to feel offended. “Why not?”
“Because guys don’t talk about this shit. Well, what I mean is we talk about sex and women with other guys. We joke around and embellish stories. But we don’t usually discuss feelings. And I’ve never had a lover or girlfriend that I discussed my innermost feelings with. It’s something I’ve never felt comfortable doing.”
Shannon felt sorry for her brother for never having had that type of relationship with a woman before.
“Mitch, John and I used to discuss our feelings all the time. Cole has told me things I never believed he would. Someday you’ll meet someone you want to share everything with, and you will share because it will seem like the most natural thing to do, like breathing air. When you meet a woman who makes you feel that way, don’t ever let her go. Hang on to her.” She looked at her brother, her brows raised in silent question. “Could this Texas beauty be her?”
Mitch laughed. “Her name is Lynn Montgomery.” His face took on a dreamy faraway look for a moment then he shook if off. “Yeah, she could.”
“So tell me, did you kiss her?”
He smiled and his eyes sparkled. “Oh yeah, and then some.” He shook his head and snorted. “I can’t believe we made love on the banks of the river.” He paused to intake his breath. “She was like molten lava in my hands—all hot, wet and fluid. She burned me with her touch. We were on fire. It was insane. Afterwards, she seemed embarrassed, and I stumbled around apologizing.
“It was awkward as hell. I don’t know if she felt as moved by our love making as I did or was she appalled by it. Jesus, I hope to God it’s the first one and not the latter. Anyway, she wasn’t up the next morning when I left. I think she was avoiding me.”
Shannon’s heart went out to her brother for the agony she heard in his voice and the pain she saw in his face. And she prayed Lynn was just surprised by the intensity of their sexual relationship and only needed time to adjust.
“When will she be back?”
Mitch looked at his watch and groaned. “Shit, it’s midnight. I have to go. I fly out in the morning to pick her up and fly back the following day.” He scrubbed his face and sighed. “I’m afraid to see her. Wish me luck.”
Shannon hugged her brother close, feeling the pounding of his excited heart against her chest. “Luck.”
***
She locked up after him, and not wanting to face her empty bed, grabbed a fleece blanket and crashed on the couch. Staring blindly into the fire, she contemplated her life. Why was it so complicated? Cole loved her. She loved him. So why weren’t they together?
Her brother Mitch loved a woman named Lynn. Did Lynn have secret feelings for him? Shannon sure as hell hoped so. She’d never seen him like he was tonight. Vulnerable, anxious and nervous, not to mention his eyes positively glowed with love. She just hoped his heart didn’t get stomped on because there was no pain, and she meant no pain, in the world that compared to the piercing pain from a shattered heart. And Shannon should know.
She pulled the covers up under her chin and felt her body relax. Soon her mind began to empty of all thoughts as she drifted off. The sound of the waves crashing on the beach and the hiss from the fireplace became her world. And slowly, ever so slowly, her heart began to beat soft and steady, her eyelids too heavy to keep open, and she floated into sleep.
Her dreams plagued her with crazy images, images of Cole, John and Cameron swirling around the air over her head. They were li
ke ghosts flying, yelling and fighting all around her. She couldn’t understand what they were saying, but she didn’t need to hear, she knew. They were fighting about her. She awoke with a start, drenched in sweat even with the nighttime chill hanging in the air.
She stared out the windows and watched the stars twinkling in the dark sky as her heart settled down to a reasonable beat. The clock glowed three-twelve in the morning, and suddenly she was wide-awake and wondering what Cole was doing?
Something flickered directly outside her house and the silhouette of someone moved. Shannon dropped to the floor, her heart exploded and she gasped for air. She hated that man in Chicago for making her afraid of her own shadow. It could by anything or anyone out there. It didn’t mean the man was here to kill her. Hadn’t Cole said he would only kill her if it could be pinned on him? Inhaling deeply, she held her breath and rose up to her knees to peer out. She dropped back down, wrapped her arms around herself and groaned.
“Shit, shit, shit.” She looked around for her phone and spotted it across the room. She crawled across the floor and cradled her cell phone to her chest for a moment then called 911.
***
“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” one of the uniform officers said. “There’s no sign of anyone outside, although there are plenty of footprints. But to be honest, they could belong to anyone. Do you have reason to believe someone is out to harm you?”
Good question. What did she say? She panicked and said, “No.”
“To help ease your mind, we’ll beef up patrol in the area for tonight. Don’t hesitate to call us again if you feel threatened.”
For the rest of the night Shannon sat on the floor trembling, trying to convince herself she’d imagined the whole thing. The light could’ve been anything, and the shadow the play of the moon’s rays. She’d hit the ground so fast, she wondered if she’d gotten a good enough look. And she admitted to herself she hadn’t. But she knew what she saw and it brought back memories of Chicago. She would be much more aware of her surroundings from now on.
In the morning, Shannon lazily walked the beach and sat on the jetties. She even skimmed rocks into the water, anything to occupy her time. Occupy her mind. This time next week she would be out on the west coast traveling from Washington State to Southern California then off to Las Vegas. She would be gone two weeks, and she had been looking forward to it. But now she didn’t know if she had the strength or energy she needed to sustain such a hectic schedule. After the events of last night it would be good to get away. Would a crazy murderer really follow her across the country? Probably not.
The other thing she had to look forward to was she would be away from John. She could contact Cole and hopefully...hopefully what? Hell, she didn’t know. She did know if she told him about last night, he’d come running. So okay, she would make the call and hire a bodyguard. If nothing else, it would put her mind at ease. Being jumpy and anxious as hell was detrimental to her health.
After acknowledging several joggers on the beach, she went back to her house just as the mail arrived, and the thought of making the phone call vanished. Shannon stood frozen in fear as her heart pounded against her chest, threatening to break through. The court transcript had arrived, and she suddenly felt terrified to read it. What if there were things in it that shocked her and changed her mind about Cole’s innocence? She truly believed he was innocent, but should she risk opening Pandora’s Box? Feeding that one little percentage of her brain constantly nagging maybe, just maybe he did it? You bet, and she tore it open immediately.
After brewing a fresh pot of coffee, she spent hours reading through everything. And it was not the most pleasant of reads. She spent hours switching from anger, to pain, then back to anger. She had read court transcripts before, but these truly shocked her to the core. They were a joke. He was railroaded by the judicial system. They had nothing on him, circumstantial evidence at best, which was probably why the judge had been lenient on his prison sentence.
Cole had never taken the stand in his own defense. Probably a mistake, she mused, but it was too late. They would never know one way or another. Her heart bled for him all over again. Imagine being twenty-three and totally alone. His wife murdered by someone else, and he was blamed, tried and convicted. My God, the despair he must have felt when they’d read the verdict and led him away to a maximum security prison. Actually, she knew how he had felt as he’d told her, but she could understand more now after reading this. And hell, she had watched most of the trial on television, but reading it now pained her to her core. She was emotionally involved now, and she hadn’t been then because she hadn’t known him then, hadn’t loved him then.
From what he had told her, surviving prison hadn’t been easy. But the main thing was he had survived. And he was thriving again and doing what he was born to do, making incredible music.
Shannon picked up the phone to call him. Her hands shook so badly she replaced the receiver. What could she possibly say? Sorry for the way he had been treated? Sorry he spent fifteen years of terrible loneliness, anguish and torture for a crime he clearly didn’t commit? What she wanted to say was she loved him and she needed him. In the end she didn’t call. She took out a notebook, put on a warm jacket and went down to the beach. Pen in hand, she began making an outline of the case including a list of possible suspects and motives. Depending on how many guys Lindsey had slept with, there could be many suspects with many motives. When she completed her list, she felt the familiar tug of her creative juices flowing. She had never written a nonfiction book, but Cole’s story was begging to be written, and she started making notes of everything she knew and everything he’d told her.
Someday, with his permission, she would like to tell the world his story. Let them meet and get to know who the real man, Cole Jackson, had been and was today. She became lost in her writing, writing page after page, her hand flying at top speed, out of control and barely keeping up with the words exiting her brain. She reveled in the wonder and exhilaration at finally having so many words to put down on paper.
If it hadn’t been for darkness descending all around her, she would have continued. When she stepped inside her house, it hit her how tired and chilled to bone she was. After turning up the fireplace, she lay down on the couch under a fleece throw and contemplated the fact she never called for a bodyguard—first thing on her to do list tomorrow. Exhaustion overtook her and she slept soundly until morning. She never heard John’s frantic message left on her answering machine or the one from Cameron. She never saw the man watching her sleep from her back deck.
Chapter Twelve
Shannon awoke the next morning stiff and sore from sleeping on the couch, but all that aside, she felt rested and ready to charge forward on a new day. She planned to do more work on Cole’s case and the book she hoped to write someday with his blessing. She sat down with her first cup of coffee to read over her writings from yesterday when the doorbell rang. Who could possibly be here on a weekday? Wasn’t everyone she knew working? She combed her fingers through her mussed hair and opened the door to the last person she expected to see there. John. Before she had a chance to slam the heavy wooden door in his face, he stuck his foot out and stepped inside uninvited and unwanted. It was then she noticed the worried lines around his mouth and forehead. The dark circles surrounding his eyes casting deep shadows. The anger and hurt from last week melted and she reached out with her suddenly trembling hand to touch his arm. “John, what’s wrong?”
He folded Shannon into his arms and cried out, “Cameron’s gone. He ran away.”
Shannon choked back a sob, her knees buckled, refusing to carry her weight. Fortunately for her, John supported her and carried her up the stairs to the couch. She clung to him and cried as he told her what he knew, which didn’t amount to a whole hell of a lot.
***
Cameron sat curled up in the last seat of the bus, hugging his coat close to himself as he tried to sleep. The bus was nearly empty, cold and smelled like exhaust fu
mes, but he didn’t care. It represented his ride to freedom. He was still too upset at the turn of events of the past twenty-four hours to sleep. His brain buzzed along running a marathon, but his body had been left behind at the starting line. So what if his father caught him getting high in his room, no big deal. But to Lieutenant McKenzie it was a big deal. His Dad, Saint John, like he never got high when he was his age? Please. What did he take him for, an idiot? But that was just the beginning. He tore through his room spilling drawers, emptying the closet until he found his stash.
Okay, so he had some pot, a pipe and some pills in his closet. It wasn’t like he was going to turn into a drug addict or anything? His father had gone on and on about how he was turning into a derelict and going down the road to Nowhereville. That had stung. Cameron couldn’t ever remember his dad speaking to him so hurtfully before. He had taken his best and favorite guitar and smashed it against his bedpost over and over until it splintered into a thousand pieces. Then Cameron saw the look on his face and was afraid of his father for the first time in his life. He thought for sure he was going to hit him. His father’s eyes were black and glazed over, his face beet red, and Cameron could see the muscles tensed up in his neck and his veins bulging in his forehead. His hands were fisted tightly at his side and Cameron could tell he struggled for control. Cameron wiped the tears pooling in his eyes as he remembered it.
The only other time he had ever seen his father so upset was during the fight with Cole. He’d never been like that with him before, and he’d never said such hurtful things to him before either, not to mention the fact he ruined his favorite guitar. And that was the problem. His dad didn’t understand him.
Couldn’t understand him.
Didn’t want to understand him.
He shouted at him, asking why he couldn’t be like most sixteen-year-olds, thinking about sports, working a job or planning for college. Why did he just sit in his room writing music and lyrics and playing his guitar? And oh, don’t forget about getting high. His father told him he was throwing his life away. Well guess what Dad? It was his fucking life to throw away if he wanted to and his father be dammed.
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