Chickasaw County Captive

by Paula Graves

  “They didn’t know someone was going to kill her. But I knew my mother was insane.”

  “Insanity and murder are two different things, Kristen.” He cupped her chin, his touch gentle but firm. “Your mother didn’t abuse you physically, did she?”

  She shook her head. Until the day she snapped, Molly Tandy’s crimes against her children had been emotional rather than physical.

  “Then how could you have known?”

  “I just should have.” She pulled away from his touch, not ready to be comforted. She’d spent too many years going over and over that day in her mind to be easily mollified by Sam’s reasonable words. She stood up, rubbing her tired eyes. “It’s late, Sam, and we’ve had a long day. Can’t we table this for later?”

  Sam looked inclined to argue, but she didn’t give him a chance, heading down the hall toward the bedroom before he could speak. She closed herself inside the darkened room, pressing her ear to the door until she heard Sam’s footsteps in the hall.

  For a moment, the urge to fling the door open and invite him inside for the night was so tempting that she dropped her hand to the doorknob, making it rattle softly. Outside, Sam’s footsteps halted, and she wondered if he’d heard the noise.

  She heard the faintest sound, as if Sam had placed his hand on the other side of the door. She leaned her head closer and imagined she could hear him breathing.

  Was he leaning against the door the way she was? Did he want to come in as much as she wanted him to?

  After a moment, she heard his footsteps move down the hall. His door opened and closed, and she slumped against the door, releasing a pent-up breath.

  The one thing she couldn’t afford was false hope for a life forever out of her grasp. Hot, sweaty sex with Sam Cooper might take her mind off her problems for a couple of hours, but nothing-and no one-could make her past disappear for good. Not even Sam and his beautiful little daughter.

  The sooner she brought this case to an end, the better.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kristen was dressed and on the phone when Sam walked into the guesthouse living room around 6:00 a.m. the next morning. She waved at the coffeepot on the counter and continued her conversation. “No, I agree. The evidence is pretty solid.”

  Sam poured a cup of coffee and leaned against the breakfast bar, taking advantage of a rare opportunity to watch Kristen without her paying attention. Though it was early Saturday morning, she was already dressed for work in a pair of charcoal trousers and a pale blue tailored blouse that did nothing to hide her sleek curves. As she turned to reach for a bowl in the cabinet by the sink, he caught sight of her waistband holster with her Ruger tucked inside.

  The combination of feminine beauty and deadly firepower was unspeakably sexy, he thought with a grin.

  Kristen tossed a glance over her shoulder, gesturing to the bowls in the cabinet. He nodded, and she pulled another one down for him.

  “I’ll be in the office around seven-thirty. See you then.” Kristen closed her phone and dropped it in her trousers pocket.

  “Foley?” Sam asked.

  She nodded, handing him one of the bowls. “We’re going to hand Darryl Morris over to the Birmingham Police this morning. A detective should be here around eight to transport him back to the city.”

  “Then I guess that means Maddy can go back to preschool Monday morning,” he said, his relief palpable.

  Kristen’s brow furrowed. “I suppose that would be okay.”

  Her frown gave him an uneasy feeling. “You’re not having doubts about Darryl Morris’s guilt, are you?”

  “No. He took the photos. He delivered them to your office. He’s admitted that.”

  “And what about the man he claims paid him to do it?”

  “There’s no evidence such a man even exists,” she answered firmly. “Morris has a grudge against you, and the things he’s admitted to are pretty damning.”

  She was right. He knew she was. He was just leery about taking any chances with Maddy’s safety.

  But they had to start living a normal life again sooner or later. Putting Maddy back into preschool was a good first step. She’d be happy to see her friends again, he knew; she talked about them all the time.

  He opened the cabinet under the cutlery drawer and peered at the cereal choices. His mother had stocked the pantry with entirely too many sugary choices, but he supposed that’s what grandparents did with their grandchildren. In the back, he found a box of toasted wheat flakes. Reasonably nutritious.

  He poured himself a bowl and flashed a questioning look at Kristen. She nodded and he poured a bowl for her, as well, before getting the milk out of the refrigerator.

  “So now that you’re about to go off bodyguard duty, what comes next for you?” he asked.

  He heard a slight hesitation before she answered. “Foley will be continuing with follow-up on this case. He’ll want to keep trying to tie Morris to the attack on Cissy. Maybe when she wakes up, she’ll have more information.”

  “Foley? What about you?”

  Kristen looked away, licking her lips. “Actually, I’m thinking about asking Carl to assign me to a different case.”

  A hot ache settled in the pit of Sam’s gut. Even though he’d known she’d be going back to her own place sooner rather than later, he hadn’t realized she was thinking about handing over the investigation to someone else.

  “Why?” he asked.

  She darted a quick look at him. “It’s time to move on.”

  He didn’t miss her meaning. “From Maddy and me, you mean.”

  A queasy expression darted across her face. “Don’t you think that’s for the best?”

  “This is about the kiss, isn’t it?”

  She slanted another look at him. “You’re fixated on the kiss, Sam. It was nothing. Hormones and stress.”

  “What about the rest of it?”

  She pushed aside her untouched bowl of cereal with a growl of frustration. “The rest of what? What exactly do you think has been going on between us? We’ve known each other-what? Three days?”

  “Sometimes that’s all it takes,” he said quietly, realizing how crazy he sounded. Why was he even arguing with her about this? Hadn’t he already proved his judgment about women was pretty damned suspect? He’d been certain he and Norah were meant to be together, and look how well that had turned out.

  “People like me don’t get happily ever afters,” Kristen said just as quietly, pain darkening her blue eyes.

  It wasn’t the response he’d expected. He’d figured she’d stick with how short a time they’d been acquainted, maybe toss in the fact that high-stress situations sometimes magnified emotions that wouldn’t otherwise make a blip on a person’s radar. They were good, sound arguments.

  But she’d gone straight to the heart of the problem. She didn’t believe they had a chance together because of her past. That’s what it all came down to, wasn’t it?

  Well, he couldn’t accept that argument. He couldn’t accept that she was doomed to solitude because of her mother’s sins. It wasn’t right or fair.

  He pushed aside his own cereal bowl, welcoming the surge of frustration that drove out the hurt he’d felt a few seconds earlier. “I know you had a horrible childhood. Your recent history probably hasn’t been the greatest, either. But I don’t think life picks winner or losers, Kristen. I think we choose that ourselves-if we have the guts to.”

  She stared at him, shaking her head. “You think the problem is that I’m afraid of being happy?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  She threw up her hands. “Believe me, I don’t want to live alone the rest of my life. I don’t want to freak out every time I’m around kids. I love kids! I used to be great with kids. I used to dream about growing up and having children of my own.”

  “Then do it.”

  She shot him a glare as he took a step toward her. He backed off.

  “I would love to jump into a relationship with you and see where it goe
s. What woman wouldn’t? You’re sexy, successful, funny…” She drew a long, shaky breath, blinking hard to hold back the tears. “But I’m a bad risk, Sam. Not just for you but also for Maddy. My mother wasn’t always crazy, you know. For all I know, what happened to her was genetic. It could happen to me, too.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  “And you can’t be sure I’m wrong,” she countered.

  He wanted to argue, but she was right. He couldn’t be sure. He knew nothing about her mother’s situation, what had caused her madness and whether or not Kristen’s own mind was a ticking time bomb. “Have you never asked anyone what caused your mother’s mental break? Her doctor, maybe?”

  Her expression was bleak. “No.”

  “Maybe you should.”

  Her lips flattened with frustration. “I need to leave now. Before Maddy wakes up.”

  Sam swallowed hard, fighting the urge to touch her, to try something, anything to make her reconsider walking out of their lives this way. He could tell there was nothing he could say right now to change her mind.

  He wasn’t even sure he should try.

  He stepped away from her, jamming his restless hands into his pockets. “Maddy will be hurt if you leave without saying goodbye, Kristen.”

  She grimaced. “It’s been only three days, Sam. She’ll forget me sooner than you think.”

  He wasn’t so sure. Maddy had apparently reached the age where having a mother seemed important, and with her own mother heading back to D.C. and out of the picture, Maddy had picked Kristen to fill the void, just as she might have picked a new puppy at the pound.

  Maybe Kristen was right not to make a big deal out of saying goodbye. Perhaps the best way to handle Maddy’s certain disappointment would be the same way he’d handle saying no to a new puppy-blatant distraction tactics.

  “I think you’re right,” he said evenly, even though a heavy ache had settled right in the center of his chest. “No big goodbye. I’ll have my folks keep her busy today and tomorrow while I finish readying the house for us to move back, and Monday she’ll start back to preschool, which she’ll love. It’ll be okay.”

  Kristen nodded, although he saw worry in her eyes. It was more than he’d seen in Norah’s eyes when she left, he realized. All he’d seen in his ex-wife’s expression as she headed for her gate at the airport were equal parts guilt and relief.

  “This is for the best, Sam.” Kristen reached for the bowl of now-soggy cereal sitting on the counter, starting toward the garbage disposal.

  He caught her arm, stopping her. She gazed up at him, her lips trembling slightly.

  It would be so easy to kiss her, he thought. Just a soft, sweet kiss goodbye.

  But he forced himself to let her go, taking the bowl from her unsteady hands. “I’ll take care of this. You should go now, before Maddy wakes up.”

  The stricken look in her eyes almost unraveled his resolve. But she moved away quickly, before he could falter, grabbing her purse and jacket and heading out the door at a clip.

  Sam forced himself to empty the two bowls of cereal into the garbage disposal and wash up, needing the activity to take his mind off the strange, empty feeling that had hollowed out his insides the second the door had closed behind Kristen.

  “WHEN I GET HOME, CAN WE go see Miss Kristen?” Maddy asked as Sam unlatched her safety seat Monday morning.

  Sam sighed, lifting her out of the Jeep and setting her on the ground. “Miss Kristen is very busy at work now, Maddy. Don’t you remember, we talked about this last night.”

  Maddy’s little face scrunched up with displeasure. “I wanna see Miss Kristen!”

  So much for his daughter being easily distracted. She’d been asking about Kristen for two days straight. “Tell you what, this afternoon, when Aunt Hannah picks you up from school, maybe she’ll take you out fishing.” He made a mental note to check with his sister to see if she already had a client lined up that afternoon. Surely she’d give herself a day or so to get settled back in from her trip to Arizona and wouldn’t mind some one-on-one time with her youngest niece.

  He saw warning signs that Maddy was gearing up to argue, so he took her hand and tugged her gently up the walkway to the front entrance of Gossamer Ridge Day School, where the director, Jennifer Franks, was greeting children that morning. When she caught sight of Sam and Maddy, her expression shifted quickly to regret.

  “I was horrified to read about Mr. Morris’s arrest,” she said earnestly. “I’m so sorry I hired him-we had no idea-”

  “Nobody did,” Sam assured her. “There was never any indication in his background that he’d be any sort of threat. You couldn’t have known.”

  “Still, we take these things very seriously. We’ve hired guards to patrol the grounds during the day so parents can feel secure about leaving their children with us.” Jennifer waved toward a young man in a blue uniform standing a few steps away. “One here at the front entrance and another in the play area.”

  Seeing the guard did ease Sam’s mind a bit. He supposed the bad publicity about Morris had forced the director’s hand.

  Maddy caught sight of one of her friends and tugged her hand out of Sam’s, dashing away with a squeal of delight. Sam watched her go with a smile, though mild anxiety tugged at his gut. Over the past few days, he’d gotten used to having her close, protected by himself or people he trusted implicitly. It was hard to let go of that control, but he couldn’t keep her wrapped in cotton padding and stored under glass.

  “She’ll be fine,” Jennifer said.

  “She asked me to put her favorite stuffed toy in the bag,” Sam warned the principal. “I know you have rules about bringing toys to school, but she’s had a rough few days. I made her promise to give the backpack to the teacher as soon as she got in the classroom and not to bug Miss Kathy about taking Bandit out of the bag during class.”

  Jennifer smiled sympathetically. “I suppose we can look the other way just this once.”

  Sam thanked her, turning to watch Maddy until she disappeared into her classroom down the hallway. With a tugging sensation in the middle of his chest, he returned to his car to make the long drive into Birmingham for his first full day back at the office.

  Sam was smart enough to know that any interference from him might jeopardize the District Attorney’s case against Darryl Morris, and the last thing he wanted to do was provide Morris with any sort of get-out-of-jail-free card. So he resisted the temptation to snoop around the office’s newest case, instead spending the morning buried under the backlog of cases he’d had to put on hold the week before while he dealt with the threat to Maddy, sorting through what cases could be easily pleaded out and which ones would require actual court time.

  By the time his cell phone rang that morning around eleven, he was bleary-eyed and grateful for the interruption. “Cooper.”

  “Sam, it’s J.D. Cissy’s awake.”

  “JUST STICK WITH IT a few more days,” Foley cajoled, following at Kristen’s heels as she checked the fax machine to see if anything had come in overnight. She turned quickly, and Foley almost barreled into her, grabbing the file cabinet at the last second to stop his momentum.

  “Stop following me around like a puppy,” she ordered.

  “Stop being a scaredy cat.”

  “Oh, that’s mature.” The fax machine tray was empty, so she edged around Foley and returned to her desk.

  “It’s not like you to turn your back on a case that’s still active.” Foley settled on the edge of her desk, in her way.

  She shooed him off. “Park your backside on your own desk. And how would you know whether or not it’s like me to turn my back on an open case? This was my first case as a detective.”

  Foley made a face. “You know what I mean. I saw how you tackled this case. You must want to see it through to the end. So why ask for reassignment? Unless you and Cooper-”

  She glared at him. “Mind your own business, Foley.”

  He opened his mouth t
o respond, but the trill of his desk phone stopped him midsound. He slid off Kristen’s desk and crossed to answer. “Foley.”

  Kristen straightened her desk blotter where Foley’s hip had knocked it askew, wishing her fellow investigator wasn’t quite so good a detective. He probably knew exactly why she’d asked Carl to assign her to a different case. And unlike Carl, who’d at least had the kindness to keep his comments to himself, Foley was likely to make her next few weeks miserable with his endless attempts at armchair psychoanalysis.

  “We’ll be there.” Foley hung up the phone and picked up the folder in front of him. “Grab your jacket, Tandy. You’re going to get to be in on the end of this case after all.”

  “What’s going on?”

  Foley stopped in the doorway, flashing a smile. “Cissy Cooper’s awake. And she’s talking.”

  “EVERYTHING SEEMS TO BE in proper working order,” J.D. told Sam as they waited outside Cissy’s hospital room for the nurse to finish taking her vital signs. “No neurological deficits or anything like that. She even remembers the night of the attack. When I told her the police had a suspect in custody, she said she thinks she can identify him if the police show her a photo.”

  Sam clapped his hand on his brother’s arm, happy to see J.D. looking so relieved and excited. “This is the best news, huh? Did you call the police?”

  “He did.” Jason Foley walked up, followed closely by Kristen. Sam tried to make eye contact with her, but she kept her gaze on J.D.’s face, her expression impossible to read.

  So that was how she thought she was going to play it, huh?

  Like hell.

  The nurse emerged, smiling at J.D. “You’d never know she was out for four days. She’s doing really great, Mr. Cooper.”

  J.D. beamed at the nurse and headed back into Cissy’s room. Foley and Kristen followed, and Sam brought up the rear, trying not to stare too obviously at Kristen’s slim, curvy backside. Just two days away from her, and he felt like an addict twitching for the next hit.

  Cissy looked good, Sam was relieved to see. She grinned weakly at him. “How’s Maddy? Daddy said she didn’t get hurt, but is she really okay?”