Connecting Strangers (Discovering Emily)

by Rachel Carrington

  “And since the car was totaled, it was taken to a junkyard and crushed four days later.”

  No trace of evidence. No way to prove Mark’s guilt. Why am I surprised? “Well, I’ve never doubted Ike Metzger’s ability to be thorough.” I straighten myself and my blouse and swipe my fingers underneath my eyes. “I’d better go. There’s no sense in poking the bear any more than it’s already been poked.”

  When I turn, Adam is right behind me. Waiting. His chest rises and falls with a deep breath. “I’ll be right there with you, Emily.”

  I should ask him to stay instead of going to Broomtown. The only thing awaiting him there is trouble, but he’ll come anyway. He doesn’t want me to go through this alone. Neither do I. But I don’t want him suffering because of me. Instead of saying anything, I turn and wrap my arms around his waist. “Promise me you’ll be careful when you get there.”

  “I’m always careful.” He kisses my forehead. “But this isn’t about me.”

  “Abernathy could make it about you.” The thought sends my senses spinning. Adam’s life was easier before me. He’ll never admit it, but I complicate things. I wish I could convince him to remain here, to let me go through this alone. But the words won’t come. And as I look into Adam’s eyes, I know why. I am in love with him. A few days was all I needed to lose my heart to this man, but I can’t tell him now. Not on the cusp of trouble.

  An idling car engine breaks the connection of our gazes, and I look toward the window as a door slams. Laughter follows tromping footsteps before Gary opens the door and escorts Francine inside the station.

  Her face is flushed, and she’s smoothing her hair into place. I look from her to Gary then smile. Maybe she took some of her own advice.

  “So I see the cop outside looking like someone just pissed in his cornflakes. What’s the plan?” Francine’s voice is a little high-pitched.

  I don’t even realize I’m holding Adam’s hand until his fingers squeeze mine. “The guy’s name is Bud Rivers. He’s not a real cop, just some flunkie Broomtown’s sheriff sent to take Emily back. I don’t trust the bastard so Gary, you and I’ll be following them. Get on the horn and let Robertson know he’ll be in charge while we’re gone.”

  “Following him?” Francine’s nose wrinkles like she smells something bad. “I thought we were going when Harry heads that way. What changed?”

  “Things.” Adam doesn’t offer an explanation so Francine gives him a prod.

  “What kind of things? What happened?” Gary clears his throat, but Francine doesn’t heed the unspoken warning. “And why are you not even looking at me? I’m getting the sense something went down here that I missed.”

  “I should get outside before Deputy Rivers decides to pop back in.” I attempt to derail Francine’s interrogation, but I shouldn’t have wasted my breath.

  “Dammit, Adam. Why is that deputy waiting outside, and why are you avoiding my questions?” Now she’s back to sounding like her old self, bossy and determined.

  Adam gives her just enough information to make her foam at the mouth. “He’s outside because it’s safer for him there. Let’s leave it at that.” He pins her with a hard look. “Understand?”

  “I understand you’re keeping something from me, but I’ll let it slide for now because I can tell it’s what Emily wants me to do.”

  “I’ll call Robertson. He’s just around the corner at the Bartholomew place again.” Gary rests one hand on the handle of his gun. “I think he might even be bringing the missus in this time. Seems she bashed her husband over the head with a frying pan.”

  Adam isn’t really listening for his gaze is back on me. The handcuffs clink together when he removes them from the leather pouch at his back. “I’m sorry about this.”

  I turn around, presenting my hands to him. “Don’t be. It’s only an hour away.”

  He cinches them loosely around my wrists. I could slip my hands out if I wanted to. “I’ll be right behind you.” The whisper is for my ears only before he takes hold of my upper arm and begins leading me to the door.

  Deputy Rivers is leaning against the hood of the radio car, a scowl on his face meant to intimidate. It would have been more effective if his right eye wasn’t so swollen. When he sees me coming, he opens the back door and jerks his chin toward the interior. “I’ll need to check those cuffs.”

  “For what?” Adam gently assists me into the car. “She’s cuffed. That’s all that matters.”

  “You’re a real piece of work, Madison.” Rivers’ chest swells. “And I don’t want you thinking this is over. Once you get to Broomtown, you’ll be in my backyard. You’ll have a different view there.”

  “Cheap seats always give you that. You just remember that she makes it safely to your backyard, or that shiner will be the least of your problems.” He closes the door and lightly touches the window in a quick, fleeting gesture Rivers doesn’t see.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “We’re already thirty minutes behind schedule thanks to that Neanderthal,” Rivers mutters as the wheels of the cruiser hit pavement.

  It’s not anything he’d say to Adam’s face.

  “It’s going to be a long ride back if you sit there like a statue.” He looks up at me in the rearview mirror.

  “I don’t have anything to say.” The last thing I want to do is have a conversation with a cop on Abernathy’s payroll even if it is for a limited amount of time. Silence is my best friend right now.

  But Rivers isn’t giving in so easily. “How about telling me about what got you into this mess?”

  “My lawyer says I can’t discuss that with anyone.” Mr. McAllister might not have said those exact words, but I’m sure it’s what he would have told me had he been there. Watching all those cop shows hadn’t been a waste of time after all.

  The deputy grunts. “Except your boyfriend, of course.”

  “I don’t have a boyfriend.” I snap the reply then instantly regret it. Turns out silence is difficult for me.

  “That’s not what it looked like to me.” He smirks at me in the mirror. “You in tight with him?”

  “Sheriff Madison has been kind to me as has everyone in Juniper Springs. It’s an unusual concept to me since I’ve lived all of my life in Broomtown.”

  Face reddening, Rivers transfers his gaze back to the road. “I’ve never been unkind to anyone in my life, but that sheriff deserved everything I gave him and more.”

  I didn’t remind him Adam did most of the giving. Instead, I shift my focus to the trees whipping by. Though only a few days have passed, it seems like forever since I drove my Volvo down this road at night. Even longer than that since I first saw Adam.

  “Mark said he thinks this is something the two of you can work out.” He shrugs. “I’ve always found him to be a nice enough fella.”

  Rivers’ words jerk the memories away. Mark’s issuing a warning, but the usual fear doesn’t arrive with the threat. I’m tired of worrying about Mark’s next move, how he’s going to extract payback for some perceived wrong. Adam might not be able to find proof my ex killed my parents, but I know it. And that’s all the information I need to fight back.

  For so long I’ve been afraid of Mark. His threats had rendered me immobile at times, but I’m coming back to Broomtown a very different woman. If he wants a fight, I’ll give it to him, and I won’t go down easily.

  “You weren’t the one living with him.” The ice in my voice should have warned the deputy to back off. He doesn’t heed it.

  “He said he’s looking forward to seeing you.” Rivers flicks a glance at me in the mirror again.

  “Really? I hope he rots in hell.” I give him a pleasant smile. “So you can tell him that when he asks you what my response was.”

  A chuckle precedes his response. “Doesn’t seem to be any love lost there.”

  “Why should there be? Mark is an asshole who likes to abuse women or anyone who gets in his path. If he’s a friend of yours, you need to pick better friend
s.” I return my attention to the window, trying to let Rivers know my end of the conversation is over.

  He doesn’t see it that way and continues talking. “Mark really loves you, though.” When I remain silent, he plows on. “Said he only wants to talk to you to see if the two of you can work this out. It doesn’t have to be so volatile. My folks used to fight like two lions over a piece of meat, but they stayed together because they loved each other. The feelings are more important than actions, in my opinion.”

  I open my mouth to tell him I disagree then realize the cruiser is taking a detour off the main road. Uneasiness creeps over me, and my skin goes clammy. “This isn’t the way to Broomtown.” I sit up straighter and lean forward to get a better look. “Where are you taking me?” With my heart thudding so loudly, I can barely hear his response. I look over my shoulder. Adam’s car is nowhere in sight. He and Gary were leaving moments behind us. So where are there?

  “It’s only for a few minutes. There’s no need to get worked up.” Rivers adjusts the mirror and looks at me again. “He promised me it wouldn’t be more than ten minutes.”

  “You’re taking me to Mark.” I close my eyes, steeling myself for the confrontation ahead. “You don’t know what you’re doing, and whatever he’s promised you, isn’t going to be enough to protect you.” Mark doesn’t make new friends because he has to trust those he has implicitly. Bud Rivers has no way of knowing that, and I doubt he’ll listen. “You’re making a mistake. You can’t trust Mark.” I look over my shoulder again, hoping to see the front end of Adam’s cruiser, but there’s no one behind us.

  “Your boyfriend’s gonna be a while. I made some adjustments to the tires while I waited for you.”

  “They have more than one vehicle.”

  “All I needed was a few minutes to put some miles between us. This seems to have worked.” Rivers slows the cruiser to a crawl before rolling to a stop outside a beat-up shack with an old gas pump out front. He kills the engine and gets out of the car to open the back door, his shoes crunching on chunks of old concrete. “I’ll be right out here.”

  “That’s a comfort.” Mark could take him down with a flick of his finger.

  “He won’t hurt you.” The deputy obviously feels the need to reassure me as he unlocks my cuffs.

  I study him for a second while rubbing my wrists even though they aren’t chafed. It’s a tactic to buy time, and even though I doubt anything I say will change this deputy’s mind, I have to try. “Whatever new allegiance you think you’re forming, you couldn’t be more wrong. Mark will use you until he doesn’t need you anymore. Then you’ll become unnecessary, and neither Mark nor his father keeps unnecessary things around.”

  Rivers’ palm is sweaty when he takes hold of my arm. “Stop being so dramatic. He only wants to talk.”

  A rusty creak has me looking over my shoulder. Mark, eyes hidden behind a pair of aviator shades, is standing by the rickety door of the shack, a grin on his face. When he starts to saunter toward me, he ups the cockiness factor.

  “Great job, Bud, but I expected you at least forty-five minutes ago. How you doing, Emily? Great to see you again.”

  This man staring at me is a stranger. I feel nothing when I meet his gaze. Not even the fear that used to remain curled in the pit of my stomach like a snake waiting to strike. “I probably don’t need to tell you kidnapping is a federal offense.” I smile with clenched teeth. “Looks like I won’t be the only one living on taxpayers’ dimes.”

  Mark takes hold of my arm, his fingers digging into my flesh, and begins to lead me away. “You haven’t said why you’re late, Bud.”

  “I got held up.” Bud falls into step behind us, his voice high-pitched when he continues the explanation. “That sheriff in Juniper Springs is a real piece of work. I thought I’d never get out of there.”

  “Is he the one that kicked your ass?” Mark pushes the door open with his boot but doesn’t go inside. “That eye’s going to hurt like hell for a few days.”

  “He got in a couple good licks.” The deputy is on the defensive, and he squares his shoulders when he approaches the door.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Mark slaps a hand against Bud’s chest. “Your job is to keep a lookout not be a witness.”

  “Witness?” Rivers’ brow furrows. “To what? You said you weren’t going to hurt her.”

  I use Mark’s distraction to pull my arm free. Whatever he’s got planned, he isn’t facing the same girl he knew a week ago. He couldn’t scare me anymore. I wouldn’t give him that power. “Why don’t you just say what you’re dying to say? The less time I spend in your company, the better.”

  He sneers at me before pointing toward the car. “You don’t worry about what I told you, Bud. Just go wait in the car.”

  “I won’t let you hurt her. No matter what I have to do.” The bravado in Rivers’ high-pitched voice is wasted on Mark who rubs his hands together while looking at me.

  “I ain’t going to hurt her, but this conversation is between me and her. Now get the hell out of here and keep watch. You’re wasting what little time I have.” He shoves the deputy out the door and turns to face me.

  “So this is your grand plan? A kidnapping.” I hope he can read the pity in my gaze before I survey my surroundings though there really isn’t much to view. “I thought you would be more creative. Guess I gave you more credit than you deserve.”

  Obviously an abandoned mom and pop store, the shack held few remnants of its past. A couple of shelves that still bore some tin cans of questionable age, a red, rusty freezer that gaped open, and a counter with cobwebs draping over the cracked Formica. Even the floor hadn’t escaped the ravages of age. It reminds me a little of my relationship with Mark. Once upon a time, it seemed to be working. Now, nothing would revive it.

  “It’s not a kidnapping.” Mark closes the door, although, it doesn’t snap into place. I can still see a sliver of early morning light peeking through.

  The cracked tiles clink beneath my feet as I pace my new cell.

  “Really? Removing a prisoner from police custody isn’t kidnapping? I think the feds would disagree with you.” I know Adam will, but I keep that thought to myself.

  “No one is going to know about this. It’s just a conversation.” Now he’s sounding like the Mark I know. Belligerent and mean.

  “A conversation is when more than one person does the talking, Mark. You’re only interested in telling me how you want things to be.” I pay more attention to the boarded window than I do to him.

  Mark stomps toward me. “I only called the police because you ran. If you’d stayed put, we could have worked this out.”

  The response makes me laugh. “We don’t work things out, Mark. You’re only interested in me doing things your way. But that’s over now. This time, I’ll take my chance with the justice system.”

  He growls at me and scrubs his knuckles over the top of his buzz cut, something he always does when he’s irritated. “I don’t want you to go to prison, Em. I want to marry you.”

  “You want to own me, and the last time I checked, I didn’t come with a receipt. Even though you burned your initials into my leg, you didn’t buy me, and I’ll be damned if I’ll allow myself to get back under your thumb again.” As I walked around him, his eyes bore through my skin as though he can intimidate me by his gaze alone.

  “It doesn’t have to be that way.” He reaches out for me, but I sidestep him. “If you’ll just listen to me...”

  “I listened to you for eight years, Mark. You’ve got nothing more I want to hear. Now I’m going back to that police car, and we can forget this ever happened. Or you can try to keep me here, and the real police can find out about it. Then both of us will be on trial. I have to say, I really like my odds in that case since the witness against me will be under arrest for kidnapping.”

  He squints at me, his eyes so narrow I can barely see their color. “What happened to you in that town?”

  “Enough to ma
ke me realize I didn’t want to live a life that’s not my own.” I make it to the door, but he intercepts me, his beefy hands taking hold of my upper arms so tightly I know the skin will be bruised tomorrow.

  “I can’t remember not loving you, Em.”

  More laughter bubbles up in my chest. “You don’t know what it means to love.” Though I push against him, he doesn’t move. So I push back with my words. “I know you killed my parents.”

  His face goes stoic, revealing nothing. “That’s what you think you have on me, what you believe will get me on death row?” Hands tightening, he yanks me forward until I can smell his beer-battered breath. “Like I told you back in that town, you got nothing on me. No fingerprints. No witnesses. No evidence. So good luck trying to prove that in court.” His upper lip curling in a sneer, he leans in so close his lips almost touch mine. “Even if I did kill them, you got no way to prove it.”

  I know he’s right, but I’m not backing down, not when I’m so close to hearing the truth from his own lips. “So what made you do it? Because they kept trying to get me away from you? You knew they hated you, and you thought they might succeed in coming between us one day? Or maybe it was because you couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else having a claim on me.”

  Storm clouds roll in his eyes, and he gives me a little shake. “Shut up. You hear me? Just shut up.”

  “Why? Feeling guilty? How was it to kill someone, Mark? Did you feel sick afterwards? Or did you just pay someone to do the heavy lifting? That way, you could keep your hands clean. Still doesn’t make you any less guilty. Do you still think about it? Still picture my parents on those beds, their eyes closed, lying so still?”

  “I said shut up!” Mark shoves me backwards so hard I stumble and slam my hip against the freezer.

  Pain takes a back seat to my determination to get to the truth. “It’s hell facing up to what you’ve done, isn’t it? I’ll bet Ike told you just to forget it. Don’t talk about it, and it’ll go away. But that’s why you started drinking so heavily, isn’t it? You know you had a part in taking two innocent lives, and it’s eating you from the inside out.”