by Miley Maine
Finally. Something to work with.
With my gun in my hand, I crept toward the barn. Through a crack in the door, I could see two men. They didn’t have the kind of fancy setup shown in the movies, where hackers sit in a room full of wires and computer screens. They were sitting cross-legged on the floor with one laptop.
I got into position and shoved the barn door open. “Hands up, FBI,” I shouted.
I’d done this several times before, and usually the perps froze. Every now and then, one of them ran. With these two, one froze and the other spun, pulling a small caliber pistol from his waistband. He aimed right at me and fired.
I jumped to the side, but it was too late. A burst of fire tore through my right shoulder.
Fuck.
The shooter was on his feet immediately. I could shoot left-handed, but not nearly as well. He slammed the laptop closed and scooped it into his arms. My shirt was turning red, but it wasn’t a fatal shot. I could keep going.
An engine roared to life, and they were gone.
Fucking hell.
If I’d waited until Jennifer had arrived or the rest of our team, we could have had them surrounded. I’d been too rash and now they’d gotten away.
I sank to the ground. I had to keep my left hand on my shoulder. With my right hand, I unlocked my phone. Pain shot down my arm. Every nerve burned. With a lot of effort, I managed to dial 911.
I did not want to bleed out in Laurel Bay of all places.
9
Bree
I’d been on duty at the fire department for the past few hours when a call came in.
The call was from George and Cindy Thompson’s house. George had been one of James’s good friends in high school. I didn’t know Cindy well, but they had several small kids. We didn’t have any details as we pulled out of the station, but then the police radio we carried crackled to life. “FBI agent down. Located in the barn closest to the fence. Exercise caution, suspects at large.”
Oh, God. There were only four FBI agents in Laurel Bay right now. There was a twenty-five percent chance James was the one who’d been shot.
In a big city, first responders have the luxury of bowing out when the victim is someone close to them. Out here, we don’t get that option most of the time. It was all I could do to remain calm as I stared anxiously out the windshield at the passing highway.
We didn’t have one of the giant fire trucks; we had the mini half-size version. Tonight, Carlos, who was also the high school English teacher, was driving. Before he’d even gotten the truck stopped, I had the medical kit ready in my hand and I was out and running toward the barn.
“Be careful, Bree,” Carlos called after me. “They said the suspects are still out here!”
James might be infuriating and I might feel a giant heap of loathing for him most of the time, but he was still the only guy I’ve ever loved and my kid’s father. I didn’t want to have to one day tell Ian that his dad had died because I was too slow.
I shoved the barn door aside and there was James, leaned up against a bale of hay. His face was washed out, and despite the racket I created, his eyes stayed closed. Instead of his usual shirt and tie, he had on his field uniform with black cargo-style pants, a black T-shirt, and a bulletproof vest. From the way he was sitting, slumped over to the right, it looked like the bullet had hit his shoulder. At least he’d pressed his left hand against the wound.
“James,” I said as I crouched in front of him. “It’s Bree. We’re going to get you to the hospital.”
“Not necessary,” he said. His eyes opened halfway, enough to focus on me. “Is the clinic open?”
“No. The clinic’s only open during business hours. We don’t have any after-hour care.”
“The ER’s thirty minutes away.” He swallowed hard. “We all need to get out of here. Someone needs to get George and his wife and kids evacuated, or they need a guard overnight.”
“I’ll call your partner,” I said. “And I’ll check with Dr. Smith. For an extra fee, he’ll usually let patients come to his house.”
James nodded. “I’ll pay whatever he wants to avoid the ER on a weekend. The bullet cut through the top part of my arm, but it’s not in there now. I need stitches and an antibiotic shot, that’s all.”
Turns out I didn’t need to call the other agents because they showed up within seconds, and a few chaotic minutes passed while they decided that all three of them would stay on the property overnight.
One of the agents went to get James’s SUV, and Carlos helped James into the passenger seat while I called Dr. Smith.
“Good news,” I told James. “We can go to his house right now.” I hopped into the driver’s side.
“Thank you,” he said. “I owe you one.”
“You don’t owe me. You’re trying to protect this town.” Every time I hit a bump, which was almost constantly, James cringed but didn’t make a sound.
“It’s my job,” he said.
“I’m glad it’s your job,” I said.
“Never thought I’d hear you say that.”
This wasn’t the time for me to critique any of his choices. “We’re almost there,” I said.
He exhaled. “I’m fine. I’ve been shot before.”
My stomach tightened up once more. He’d had this crazy, dangerous life that I knew nothing about. “Where was that?”
“Leg. Broke my tibia. Had to work at a desk for six weeks.”
Hearing him speak about it so casually made me sick to my stomach. He could have died then, just like he could have died tonight. “How long ago?” I asked.
“A year ago last month.”
“Sounds painful.”
“It was,” he said.
“But it didn’t stop you from going right back to it.”
“No. It’s worth it.”
“Knowing you’re looking for bad guys?” I asked.
“Exactly.” He turned his head to study me. “It’s the same reason you work as a firefighter for free.”
“I do that because there aren’t enough people to do it.”
“Exactly. And it needs to be done.” He looked forward again. “Plenty of people have talked to me about you. They’re all really proud. They wanted me to know that you’re the one that got the fire department approved by the town council, and you’re the one who single-handedly made sure it was staffed.”
“It wasn’t a big deal.” Besides raising Ian, it was one of the things in my life that I was truly proud of, but getting the fire department up and running hadn’t felt like a burden, probably because I believed in it so strongly.
“It’s a very big deal,” he said. “I can remember the barns burning to the ground because we didn’t have any way to put them out.” His voice got quiet. “Promise me something.”
“Okay,” I said. Right then, I’d have agreed to almost anything he asked.
“If you’re on shift for the fire department, or even if you’re not, promise me you won’t go after any of these suspects. Even if you have the chance.”
“I won’t,” I promised. “If I’m tempted, all I have to do is think about Ian, and I’ll stop and call you.”
He huffed a quiet laugh. “That’s a good solution. And from what I’ve heard, kids change your perspective. I’ve seen agents ask for permanent desk work after their kids were born. Which is great. Those jobs have to be done. And no one wants to see a kid orphaned.”
No, they didn’t. If I ever mustered the nerve to tell James that Ian was his, would he feel the same way? Would he still rush into danger? I couldn’t imagine taking that from him.
We rode in silence for the last few minutes. His breaths seemed to come quicker. I put my hand on his knee. “Take slow breaths. I’ll do it with you.” I was sure he knew this technique, and hopefully he wouldn’t think I was being condescending to him. “In.” I inhaled for three seconds. “Out.” I breathed out, long and slow.
He didn’t reply but it did slow his breathing down a little. In t
he moonlight, I could make out his clenched jaw and the way he pressed his back into the seat.
“We’re here.” The doctor’s house was in town, near the clinic. It was an older house, but the inside had been completely renovated. After parking under a big magnolia tree, I rushed around to the passenger side. “I’m opening the door now, okay?” I said, so I didn’t startle James.
He nodded, and I opened the door. He didn’t make any move to get out. I was pretty tough from all my ranch work, but there was no way I could even half-carry a guy his size. I could drag him if it was life or death, but this wasn’t that bad yet. After a few seconds of me standing there, Dr. Smith came outside.
“You need some help?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said, waving him over. The night air was balmy, but my skin prickled with goose bumps. A few inches higher and that bullet could have hit James’s neck and ended his life before I ever had the chance to reconsider my decision to tell him about his son.
Between the two of us, Dr. Smith and I managed to get James out of the SUV and inside the house. The doctor kept the front room as a makeshift clinic and I got James into the bed he kept there. After that, I let the doctor take over.
While he worked, I paced in his foyer, back and forth. My eyes swept over the paintings of Dr. Smith’s prized horses, but my mind raced. Pretty soon, I was going to have to give myself a pep talk about not hyperventilating.
I had once been engaged to James—for about five minutes—before he told me he was moving to Michigan. Before I took his ring off and threw it into Laurel Bay Lake. Before we broke up for good.
Would we be living in Texas now? I still didn’t know why he was working in Houston. If I’d married him, would I still be sitting in this room tonight? Would I live on a constant knife’s edge of worry, always waiting for the knock on the door from another agent telling me James had been killed?
Plenty of other women—and men—lived with that uncertainty. Could I have done it, too?
I’d never know.
10
James
The combination of blood loss and whatever pain relieving shot the doctor had given me was starting to make me a little less focused than I preferred.
Just like I already owed Bree, I was going to owe this doctor, too. I was grateful he’d patched me up enough to skip the ER, but I didn’t trust him. He was one of the few people I’d encountered who was new to Laurel Bay—not that I had to know someone for a long time to trust them. I trusted most of my coworkers. But there wasn’t much reason for a doctor to move to Laurel Bay, especially one who didn’t have any previous ties to the community.
As I lay in his office, I kept my head turned to the left, away from my shoulder. In the corner of the office, he had several desktop computer towers, complete with a battery back-up, humming.
Even with the lidocaine or whatever he’d numbed my arm with, I still felt the tugging sensation. “You a big gamer?” I asked.
“What? No. Why?”
“Your computers. Looks fun.”
A cloud descended over his face. “That’s just my server. We like to store our photos ourselves.”
I didn’t like to stereotype, but most of the medical professionals I’d encountered could barely do more than send an email, much less set up their own server, but it would be smart to downplay what I was thinking in front of the guy who was currently stitching up my arm and injecting me with powerful drugs. “I don’t know much about them. I do like to play video games, though. If you ever decide you want to try gaming, give me a call. I can get you a good graphics card installed.”
“I don’t foresee that, but I’ll keep it in mind,” he said.
After that, I was quiet, as the somewhat familiar floaty feeling washed over me and my mind wandered. I watched Bree pace. She looked lovely as usual. She’d taken her long-sleeve uniform top off and tied it around her waist. The fitted black tank top she wore underneath hugged her ribs and breasts.
Once upon a time, I’d been able to hold her in my arms. Shockingly, I wanted to do it again.
I wasn’t going to push myself on her, though. However, I had decided I was going to win her back as a friend, no matter how long it took. She’d been my very first friend, and it was stupid to let our teenage altercation spoil the relationship we’d had for over a decade. Seeing her grown up, a mother, the owner of a struggling ranch, a veterinary technician, and a firefighter made me realize just how tough and resourceful she was.
“All done,” the doctor said. “Lie there for ten minutes, and then I’ll get you back in the car and you can go home.”
“Home’s in Houston,” I muttered, although at the moment, Houston felt lightyears away.
“Then you can go wherever the hell you want to,” he said. “And I can go straight back to bed. Bree, he’s done,” he said, going to toss his gloves and wash his hands in the bathroom right off the office he’d used as a clinic.
“I owe you,” I said to Dr. Smith. “I’ll find a way to repay you.”
“Not necessary,” he said with a grimace, and then he was at my side, helping Bree drag me back out to the car.
“Thank you,” I said to her, once we were back on the road. “I guess you know where I’m staying, since it’s the only hotel in town.”
“I’m not taking you back there,” she said.
“Why? Are you going to leave me on the side of the road?”
“No, silly,” she said. “I’m taking you back to the ranch.”
“To my house? I mean—to your house?” Was I ever going to get used to her owning the ranch? Some people might think I was jealous that my father had given it to her instead of me, but I wasn’t jealous. I felt like it was a burden, so it was hard to view that gift as a gesture of goodwill. I wasn’t sure what my father’s motivation was.
“Yes,” she said.
Painkillers were coursing through my veins, so I was certain I’d misheard her. “I thought I wasn’t welcome.”
“I changed my mind.”
“You might own the house now, but I doubt my father wants me there.”
“You might be surprised.”
I really would be. “If you’re sure it’s okay, I’ll come. Whatever my father has to say to me, I’ll deal with it,” I said.
She hummed but didn’t say anything for a few minutes. “Can I ask you something?”
Maybe she was nervous, because her small hands were locked onto the steering wheel with an iron grip. “Sure,” I answered.
“Why are you working in Houston? You said you hated Texas and never wanted to live here again.”
“The FBI’s not easy to get into.” That was an understatement. “When I finished training, there was an opening in Houston and in Seattle. I’ve been to Seattle and while it’s a really cool city, I preferred the weather in Houston.”
“That’s the only reason?” she asked.
“Are you asking if I don’t really hate Texas?”
She pressed her lips together a few times before answering. “Yes.”
“You’re right. I don’t hate Texas. I just thought I hated it and Laurel Bay. I blamed the town for my tense relationship with my dad, but those relationships happen all over the world, in all kinds of places. I thought if I stayed near Laurel Bay, I’d turn into someone I hated.”
“I think I understand,” she said, giving me a quick glance then putting her eyes back on the road. “I know it’s ancient news, but I just wish you’d told me.”
“I wish I had, too.”
“Really?” she asked. Her voice held a real note of surprise.
“Yes. I wish I’d told you that I had to leave and that I’d included you in my plans.”
She nodded. “Me, too.”
“I was young, and I was so focused on saving myself that I forgot you had your own dreams that weren’t the same as mine, but that’s not an excuse. I could have talked to you. Can you forgive me?” I asked.
11
Bree
Could I
forgive him?
Damn it all to Hell. I wish I knew the answer to that.
“Were you really that miserable? I thought I was enough for you,” I said.
“No, Bree, you were enough,” James said. “But I felt like I was drowning. Every second of every day.”
“I wish you’d told me.”
“I guess I thought you’d be able to tell,” he said.
I thought I’d been mature back then, but I’d missed how completely miserable he was. And when I did notice that he was unhappy, I didn’t take it seriously. I felt like he needed to buck up and quit complaining and I probably said so, which was no way for a girlfriend to behave.
“You did talk about joining the FBI nonstop,” I said. “No less than twenty people have brought that up to me this week. They love reminiscing about how you always wanted this job and how you made your dreams come true. I think it gives some people hope.”
“Too bad I screwed it up with you.”
“We can move forward now,” I said. I wondered how true that would be once I told him about Ian.
“You think we can be friends?” he asked.
I laughed. “Sounds cheesy, doesn’t it?”
“Sounds good to me.”
“I think that’s the percocet talking. You’re not even upright now.” Was he going to be mortified tomorrow when he woke up after spilling his guts tonight?
“Listen,” he said, with a slow drawl that had to be the drugs talking. “Texas is a great place to live. And Laurel Bay isn’t so bad either. At least it’s not if you’re here.”
Now he was really going to be horrified at the words coming out of his mouth. If I was a little more cruel, I would have videotaped him saying good things about Laurel Bay and me to play back later. “Okay, time to get you to bed,” I said.
Walter and Mary had been asleep for ages, and mine was the softest mattress. I’d put James in my bed and I could sleep on the rock-like guest bed. He hadn’t hit his head, so I hoped it was okay to let him sleep. Dr. Smith hadn’t said not to.