Love on the Line (Love Beyond Danger Book 3)

by Diane Holiday

  Sweat soaked his shirt despite the chilled room. He adjusted his glasses and read the inscription with Lynn’s name and their graduation year.

  All the blood drained from his head, and the room spun. He tried to catch his breath, fisting his hand over the ring in his palm. The metal cut into his skin, and hot rage ravaged his body.

  He had proof now. Devon had killed Lynn. That sick bastard was going to pay. What did he do, light candles at his psycho shrine and relive the event?

  Paul shook his head as a wave of nausea rose from his gut. Focus. He might have already compromised any fingerprints on the ring by touching it. Dumb mistake.

  He took a picture of the other piece of jewelry in the box. A gold-studded earring. Maybe a trophy from some other woman Devon had killed. How had he ever thought this man to be a friend? Paul’s body shook, and he dabbed the sweat from his brow. He’d call the police. Turn himself in for the tax fraud and send Devon to rot in jail.

  A scraping sound came from above as the front door opened.

  Paul froze. Panic welled inside, immobilizing him. Devon should still be at dinner, but maybe his plans had changed. He might be coming back to the store to get the shipment ready for tomorrow.

  With the trap door wide open and no weapon, Paul was screwed. Caught with the evidence, he’d be killed like the others. He dialed nine-one-one, shoved the wooden box back into the cabinet, and grabbed the candelabra.

  No matter what, he wasn’t going down without a fight.

  Chapter 37

  Anne poured a cup of tea and set it on the counter. Past dinner time, she should eat something, but food wouldn’t stay down in a stomach full of knots. The large diamond weighed heavily on her finger, but nowhere near as heavy as her heart.

  She’d spent the afternoon in a fog, unable to focus on anything except the bitter bite of betrayal that ripped at the bond of trust she had with Wyatt. Her every instinct screamed that he would never cheat on her.

  Emily’s ringtone sounded, and Anne answered the phone. She’d been responding to texts with only emojis. She didn’t want to worry her friend, but she also wasn’t up for much talking. It wouldn’t do any good. Not with Emily, anyway. Only Wyatt had the answers.

  “I cancelled the party. Come over, or I’ll come there,” Emily said, concern in her voice.

  “I feel so bad you did that, but thanks. I’m upset and really need to be alone,” Anne managed to say around the huge lump in her throat.

  “I wish there was something I could do. Don’t get mad at me, but I called the Big Brothers Big Sisters office to ask if there’d been any changes in the program today. No luck. The place is closed because everyone’s at the Ocean City event.”

  Anne frowned. She’d never even thought of calling them. God, is that what people did to check up on their spouses? “At least you did something productive. I googled Victoria and Wyatt’s online pictures. She’s like all the others, gorgeous and hanging all over him.”

  “Girl, don’t torture yourself. There’s no point.”

  Tears welled in the corners of Anne’s eyes. She blinked them back. “I thought we were past all this. I stopped worrying about the other women because I knew Wyatt loved me. Now I’m not sure of anything.”

  Her phone beeped with another call, and her pulse jumped. Wyatt. Her ears craved to hear his voice, the deep timbre that melted her insides and made her long to sit on his lap. Hard as it was, she tapped “decline.” When they talked, it needed to be face to face so she could see his expressions.

  “Anne, you there?” Emily asked.

  “Sorry, Wyatt just called, but I can’t deal with him over the phone. I…I don’t know what to say.” Anne pressed a fist to her mouth and sucked in a breath. “Part of me wants to go to his place and see for myself, and another part says I shouldn’t be wearing his ring if I don’t trust him.”

  “Totally understandable. What if I go—”

  “No.” Anne brushed a strand of hair back and raised her chin. “I need to handle this on my own.”

  “All right. Call me if you change your mind about coming over.”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  Anne hung up and crossed her arms, hugging herself. Emily was the best friend ever, but she couldn’t help with this situation. Anne tried to downplay emotions and focus on logic. Aside from his recent strange behavior, Wyatt hadn’t given her any reason to think he was cheating on her.

  Anne’s phone dinged with a text from Wyatt.

  All good here. Make sure to call me if any plans change tonight.

  Her belly twisted into a tight coil. Again, another reminder about calling him. He’d never checked on her like this before. Something was definitely up, and the sick feeling wouldn’t go away until she confirmed or denied her worst fears.

  She called Emily back. “Just wanted to let you know I’m heading to Wyatt’s. I’ll keep you posted.”

  Chapter 38

  Wyatt’s call to Anne went to voicemail for the fourth time in the last hour. He’d texted and called Emily with no answer as well. Maybe the party was going strong, and no one could hear their phones. What if John was wrong and Wyatt wasn’t the target? All he could think about was if anything happened, he wouldn’t be in town to help.

  He’d signed footballs, taken pictures with the kids, and called a friend to fill in for him tomorrow. Nice to know some of his old buddies still had his back and rallied for a good cause.

  His calf cramped as he pressed the brake and exited the highway. John had called to tell him Trish had car trouble and was running late. She should be at the station soon to work with the sketch artist.

  Wyatt flipped on the radio. Anything to distract him from the million thoughts buzzing in his head. Now that he was in town, he’d go straight to Emily’s. If he saw Anne’s car in the lot, he’d drive home and not worry her. She didn’t need to know he was on edge after finding out someone had hired Moe Dog and Charlie. Best to keep her out of the loop until John got to the bottom of it all. After that, Wyatt and Anne could get on with life.

  His chest warmed as he pictured the glowing smile on her face when he’d slipped the engagement ring on her finger. If he could make her grin like that every day, he’d be a happy man. They had so much ahead of them. He’d started looking at properties that had big yards with running room for Goober and kids one day.

  Wyatt shook his head. Hot damn his life had done a one-eighty since he’d met Anne. Never expected to settle down and think about space for swing sets. His heart swelled, pressing against his ribcage.

  He pulled into a gas station, filled up the tank, and sent a text to the dog sitter. Might as well pick up the goofy mutt on his way home. With any luck, they’d both be back there in a half hour. Wyatt could use a beer and some chill time. Probably acting a bit paranoid, but he’d trade that for peace of mind.

  When he reached Emily’s apartment complex, he drove around the lot, searching for Anne’s car. Emily’s Beetle was parked in a numbered spot. His neck muscles grew taut while he made a second pass. No sign of the Honda.

  Shit. A frisson of unease worked its way up his back. Where was Anne? Maybe Emily had picked her up or something. Parking in an empty space, he cut the engine and dialed her number. Again, she didn’t answer.

  She’d wonder why he wasn’t at the event if he knocked on the door, but he’d deal with that after he’d seen her safe and sound. His heartbeat quickened as he climbed the stairs, like he was on a rollercoaster, tick, tick, ticking up the steep incline.

  He knocked on Emily’s door and stood back. No music or laughter came from the apartment. If they’d cancelled the party, Anne should have called.

  The door burst open.

  “So, it’s true. You are in town.” Emily glared at him, her mouth twisted.

  Wyatt jerked his head back at the venom in her tone. “What? I’m…is Anne here?”

  Emily thrust her hands on her hips. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”.

  A red flag waved before his
eyes, and his blood pressure rose. What the hell was going on? “Please, I need to talk to Anne. Is she here?”

  “No.” Emily all but spat the word. “Why aren’t you at the shore?”

  “I found someone to fill in for me. I—”

  “Yup. Just like she said.” Emily’s nostrils flared, and she shook her head.

  “Who said what?” His head hurt as he strained to follow. “I don’t know why you’re mad at me, but I need to find Anne.”

  “Oh, I bet you do. To make sure you know where she is at all times tonight.”

  “Well…yeah.” Since the case was under investigation, he couldn’t discuss it with Emily, or why he came home. Sweat dripped down the side of his face. “Look, I don’t know what’s wrong, but she’s not answering my calls. Do you know where she is?”

  “Yeah, I do as a matter of fact.”

  “Where?”

  “At your apartment, where all the women are,” Emily said.

  Fuck. A jolt of alarm shot through his system. With a target on his back, the last place he wanted Anne to be was alone at his home. She needed to stay away until they found the guy who’d hired those goons. “Why would she…never mind, when did she go? Can you call her and stop her? I don’t know why she won’t answer me.”

  “Too late. She should be there about now.” Emily raised her chin, a smug look on her face. “Your tight-end is screwed.”

  Emily slammed the door and flipped the deadbolt.

  What the fuck?

  He flinched and dropped his jaw. Christ, he needed a playbook for this. No clue what the hell was happening. Why was he screwed, and why did Anne go to his apartment? Nothing made sense. He didn’t have time to get answers out of Emily, who didn’t appear to be in a cooperative mood anyway.

  Taking the steps two at a time, he raced down the staircase.

  Chapter 39

  Anne circled Wyatt’s apartment parking lot. No sign of his car anywhere. Her erratic heartbeat evened out a tad. Blowing out a breath, she pulled into his vacant space.

  Victoria had lied. No clue why the woman would make up stories, but people had all kinds of issues. A nagging doubt still lingered in Anne’s mind, though. Nothing explained Wyatt’s bizarre behavior yesterday. And, of course, if he didn’t want anyone to know he was home, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to park at his place.

  The tea she had drunk earlier sloshed in her empty stomach, and perspiration wet her brow. She wouldn’t know the truth unless she checked.

  All she had to do was go up, find the condo empty, and call it a night. Despite being exhausted, she’d never sleep if she kept picturing Wyatt with Victoria. Once and for all, she’d put an end to the question.

  Steeling her nerves, she made her way to the stairs. Every smack of her shoe on the steps reverberated like the imaginary sound of a beating heart under the floorboards of Poe’s classic novel. Only she had nothing to feel guilty about. Or did she?

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  She and Wyatt didn’t knock anymore at each other’s doors since their engagement. They used their keys to come and go. This time was different, though. This time when she opened the door, she’d cross the line of trust on which their relationship hung. This time meant she didn’t have enough faith in him. And if she didn’t have that, they had nothing.

  She paused on the landing, her pulse throbbing at the base of her throat.

  Couldn’t do it. If she was going to marry the man, she had to trust him completely. She refused to spend the rest of her life questioning Wyatt’s love and fidelity. He’d done nothing but show how much he loved her. She’d return his call, go home, and put the craziness of the day to rest.

  About to leave, she glanced down the hall and stilled. Wyatt’s door stood open a crack. That made no sense. He would have locked up. Her shoulders tensed as she treaded lightly to the entrance. She’d call the police and run back to the car if she heard anything suspicious, like someone trashing the place.

  She stopped short of the door and craned her head to listen. Soft music played, and someone hummed in the background. Her breath caught, and her stomach lurched. Not someone, a woman.

  No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. On wooden legs, she stepped to the door and eased it open. She gasped at the sight of Victoria, sipping wine on Wyatt’s couch, wearing one of his shirts. Unbuttoned, it gaped apart revealing a black bra and lacy panty.

  Shockwaves rocked Anne’s body like a magnitude-nine earthquake. She grabbed the door for support and gulped for air. Her dreams crashed around her, crushing her soul. She hadn’t believed what Emily overheard, thought Victoria was lying, but here she sat almost naked on Wyatt’s sofa. The same one where Anne had spent hours cuddled next to him.

  Victoria looked up and formed an “O” with her mouth. She shook her head. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Wyatt is not going to be happy about this. Looks like the cat’s out of the bag.”

  “Where’s Wyatt?” Anne choked out the words past her constricted throat.

  Running her long, candy-red nails through her hair, Victoria shrugged. “No point in lying now. He went out for more condoms.”

  The room wavered, and Anne clutched the door. Tears stung her eyes, and the strings that tied her to Wyatt snapped, plummeting her heart to her feet. How could he do this? How?

  Victoria made no effort to cover herself or apologize. “This shouldn’t be a surprise. Did you really think a man like Wyatt was going to be happy in a boring, comfy marriage?” She crossed her legs and swung a stiletto-clad foot. “No offense, but the man has needs, and you aren’t enough to fulfill them, sweetie. He likes things a little wild and dirty.”

  Anne trembled, her numb brain trying to make sense of it all. Boring. The word kept coming back to bite her. She’d believed Wyatt when he’d said he liked to do normal, everyday things with her. Lies, their whole relationship was nothing but lies. He’d played her for a fool, having his bimbos on the side the whole time.

  She was blind and stupid. Stupid to believe she could ever trust a sports celebrity. She had to get out of there. The last thing she wanted was to see Wyatt pull up with his jumbo package of condoms. Hands shaking, she yanked off her engagement ring and hurled it across the room. “He’s all yours.”

  Tears blurred her vision as she stumbled down the stairs. Somehow, she managed to get into her car. She covered her face with her hands and cried. Body-wracking, deep sobs she couldn’t stop. Salty tears wet her lips before she could brush them away.

  She needed to go home and pick up the pieces of her life, which no longer included Wyatt.

  As she drove, she couldn’t escape the image of Victoria with her breasts falling out of Wyatt’s unbuttoned shirt. Voluptuous and wild, what Wyatt secretly still wanted.

  She parked in her apartment lot and got out of the car. Lightning flashed, followed by a loud boom of thunder. Nothing compared to the storm raging inside of her. She leaned against the driver’s side door, resting her forehead on her arms, and took a deep breath.

  Another crash of thunder reverberated as the betrayal played over and over in her mind. She squeezed her eyes shut tight.

  A car pulled up beside her, and a door shut.

  “Anne?” Devon’s voice rang out. “Are you okay?”

  Chapter 40

  Devon opened his umbrella and approached Anne, slumped against her car, her back to him. A bolt of lightning flashed, and sheets of rain dumped from the sky. She didn’t move.

  Satisfaction slithered through his veins. His plan had worked.

  Now he’d close in for the kill.

  “What are you doing out here in the storm?” He held the umbrella over Anne’s drenched body.

  Shivering, she pushed off the car and wiped at swollen, tear-stained eyes, smearing black mascara down her cheeks. “What?”

  Disgust twisted in his chest. God, she was a fucking mess.

  “Never mind. Let’s get you inside. Which apartment is yours?” Like he didn’t know. He pulled her closer to keep them bo
th covered.

  Her body shook, and her teeth chattered. She didn’t answer, but walked stiffly with him toward the staircase.

  When they reached her apartment, she fumbled with the key, hands shaking too hard to slide it into the lock. He set the umbrella down and helped her, opening the door. After she entered, he followed her inside.

  She glanced at her soaked shoes, and then back up to him. “What are you doing here?”

  “I brought some flyers I intended to leave at your door when I figured out which unit was yours, but that doesn’t matter now.” He placed a hand on her cold arm. “What happened? Are you okay?”

  “No, not really.” She hugged herself and shivered. “I need to…be alone.”

  Too bad. That wouldn’t work for his plan. “You’re chilled to the bone. In good conscience, I can’t leave you like this. Why don’t you go change? I’ll make you some tea, and we can talk?”

  Her eyes filled with tears, and she bit her lip. “Honestly, I’m a little shell-shocked right now. I think you should go.”

  He lowered his voice and patted her arm. “What kind of friend would I be if I did that? I’m a good listener, and you’re clearly upset. Please, just go change into dry clothes.”

  “I can’t even think right now.” She frowned and shook harder. “Okay, whatever.”

  His body amped. A step in the right direction.

  As she trudged down the hall, he went to the kitchen. He microwaved a mug of water and dropped in a teabag he’d found to steep. Bringing the cup with him, he moved to the living room and took a seat on the couch. Better chance to interact with her if they weren’t separated by a table.

  She wandered back out a few minutes later, wearing jeans and a flannel shirt.

  He scoffed inside. She’d fit right in at a rodeo. “Come sit down. I made you some chamomile.”