by Laura Scott
“I said I might go.” He shot Rhett a quick glare. “I haven’t had much peace and quiet in the last couple of weeks. Sitting with my Bible and a cup of coffee sounds great, and I’m pretty sure God will speak to me through His word here or there.”
Georgia scooched closer to him for privacy. “I know this is about babysitting me. I don’t want to be your ball and chain, Colt.”
He cocked his head, then that same spark of amusement she was familiar with lit in his blue eyes. “Well, I didn’t ask you to marry me, Georgia Jane.” His eyebrows twitched north. He was real proud of his witty comeback.
Georgia couldn’t help but grin, though the pang of regret thudded against her rib cage. Marriage never would have worked between them. Her anxiety would cause problems and fights like in the past, and he would have finally gotten tired of it and left her in the end. She wouldn’t have blamed him. “Yeah, well... I assure you, you wouldn’t want that, either. I’m the weight everyone is dragging around, and I hate it.”
“No one is dragging you around. You ain’t but a buck ten. We’re carrying you. Now, knock off the self-deprecation and tell me what you want for breakfast. We’re imposing, and the least we can do is cook. We’ll expense it, so don’t start in with how we’re dipping into our pockets to protect you. It’s our job. Let us do it.”
Not much rebuttal there. “Fine. I have waffle mix and bacon and—”
“You had me at waffle. Show me where everything is and I’ll whip us up some.” Colt clapped his hands and rubbed them together then looked at Rhett and Mae. “Y’all want waffles?”
“Does it snow in Colorado?” Mae asked.
“I want a waffle,” Poppy exclaimed as she entered the living room.
“You always want to eat,” Rhett remarked.
“Are you calling me fat?”
“I’m calling you habitually hungry.” He frowned and helped himself to a cup of coffee.
After breakfast, the team left and Georgia helped Colt clean up the dishes, then they sat on the couch waiting for the Sunday service to stream.
“How do you think Coach Flanigan will react when you question him?” she asked.
Colt’s lips turned down, and he cocked his head.
“I don’t think he’ll react well, either.”
He adjusted the laptop and turned up the volume. “Coach is a big fish in a little pond and has been for years. He’s made his career on producing star athletes. His entire identity rests on that. His office is one big trophy case to himself. He won’t like anyone questioning him regardless if he’s involved or not.”
Not to mention he’d won more state championships than any other coach in their division. “I know. He was steamed when I interviewed him for the school paper after Jared died.” She hadn’t suspected him, but she did hammer him on being lax with his players and allowing them privileges that could have gotten them in trouble.
“You mean when you went all Scooby and the gang. Pretty sure he made me run bleachers extra hard that day thanks to you reprimanding him for not putting cameras in the athletic training room and accusing him of allowing athletes to smoke dope and bring girls into the room at all hours of the day and night.”
“I never thought that was smart, and it did happen. Nobody will convince me he didn’t know what was going on under his own nose. He told me, ‘Boys will be boys, Miss Thing. If you suspect Colt is cheating on you, ask him. Don’t try to guilt me into installing cameras so you can feel better about your boyfriend.’”
Colt gaped. “No, he did not. You didn’t think that, did you?”
“No. I trusted you completely, Colton. He shifted it on me to avoid focusing on his negligence and turning a blind eye.”
“Well, he’s going to be off-the-charts angry when he finds out you’re taking another swing at him for something else. Unless he’s the killer, and he’ll simply shoot at you...again.” Colt paused and held her gaze, then they both broke into laughter. Much-needed laughter.
“Or it’s not him. Chance Leeway is a good lead,” Georgia said. “What did he say in his statement from fifteen years ago? He was always a sore loser.”
Colt shifted on the couch. “He lawyered up pretty fast—perks of being a criminal defense attorney’s son. He claims to have been at the Dairy Freeze that Saturday night, and his two best friends backed him up.”
“Any trace evidence you can retest?”
“Industrial carpet fibers that couldn’t be placed at any one particular business. And Jared went all sorts of places and worked part-time for his stepdad, so they could have come from the dealership. But a print was found on his watch. No comparable match back then, but we’re going to run it again and hope for a hit. Someone who wasn’t in the system then might be now.”
Georgia hoped so, too. They didn’t have much to go on.
“Mae got the name of another major booster heavily involved in Courage High sports as well as Ole Magnolia. Terry Helms.”
“He’s one I was alluding to in the podcast.” President of the First Hope Bank & Loan. He’d been a football king in his own right. Played for Ole Magnolia. Big donor to the college and all up in the Courage team’s business.
“And a good friend of Sunny and Coach Flanigan.”
“I wish someone would have thought of this fifteen years ago.”
“No reason to. I’d like to swing by your office later and get the list of people and board members in attendance at that meeting Dandy covered for the paper.”
“No problem.” Three minutes until the service went live. “Did you know Chance is the assistant coach for the Tigers now?”
“I’m not surprised. He was a little king over at Southern High.”
Georgia snorted. “You know his friends could have lied to alibi him out.”
Colt nodded. “Maybe one of them is feeling particularly guilty for it. Over a decade is a long time to stew in lies. What is it the Bible says about sin?”
“Don’t do it.”
Colt laughed. “Yeah, but more specifically. Your sin will find you out. It’s in the book of Numbers somewhere.”
She hoped whoever had killed Jared—whoever committed that sin—would be found out.
* * *
Colt forgot how much he enjoyed being in a service with Georgia. Online or in person. The message had been extremely personal and relevant. Perfect love casts out all fear. People weren’t meant to live in fear. Colt especially appreciated the pastor’s explanation on what the difference was between healthy fear and the kind people weren’t meant to live in.
Georgia had been silent during that portion. Colt used his phone to do a little research on anxiety, triggers and coping mechanisms. The team rolled in with pizzas for lunch, and they sat in the living room inhaling New York style loaded with pepperoni, ham and bacon.
Rhett grabbed a third slice. “Nothing on the casings or projectile we collected after y’all were shot at yesterday. I hope we can match them to the gun.”
Mae snagged a slice of double pepperoni and ham. “I put a call in to the detective on Dandy’s carjacking case. Hoping to hear something soon.”
“I got us rooms at the Magnolia Motel,” Poppy said through a mouthful of pizza. “It’s closest to here, so we don’t have to impose or keep you up, Georgia.”
Georgia paused midbite. “The Magnolia’s pretty seedy. You’re welcome to stay here.”
Colt’s research had revealed that sudden changes in routine or overcrowding could trigger anxiety and panic attacks. Besides, he didn’t want to impose. Her world had already been rocked. “We’ll be fine.” He laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Our job isn’t about comforting accommodations. We’ve worked in some seriously questionable places. One of us needs to stay, though—at night.” He knew her best. She should feel the safest with him, but he hated to admit on a personal level he wanted to be the one to stay.
He gave himself a good mental kick. He was here in a professional capacity only.
He had a life, and it was taking him to Atlanta.
Georgia had made it clear a long time ago that she wasn’t up for marriage, and while at the time he thought it was a lame excuse to dump him—she wasn’t married. By choice. He wasn’t married, either, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed being alone. Most nights he wasn’t only alone—he was lonely.
“I understand.” She excused herself to make more coffee. Colt motioned his team outside. The air had a nip, and the smell of wood smoke drifted into his nostrils.
“I didn’t accept Georgia’s offer because she was giving it out of southern politeness, but she’s right about the Magnolia. It’s the hourly rate kind of place, if you get my drift.”
Rhett turned up his nose, and Poppy shivered.
“What do we do about protective detail?” Rhett asked and observed the property. He was an eagle eye, always on duty. “I assume you have a plan.”
“I’ll stay here at night,” Colt said.
“That’s convenient,” Poppy said with a toothy grin. “Tell us about hourly rates then casually mention you don’t have to crawl into motel sheets and risk bedbugs.”
“Perks to being the unit chief,” he teased. “We have history, and she may feel safer with me because of familiarity.”
No one asked the question about how familiar they were with one another, and Colt appreciated the courtesy. He and Georgia were complicated. “The case is cold enough. I’d like to pop in and have a chat with Coach Duncan Flanigan.”
“Well, let’s get to it, then.” Poppy saluted, just before a boom thundered then the sound of glass shattering sent them pulling weapons and ducking.
The dogs barked frantically.
Another living room window blew to smithereens. This guy was brazen to be shooting with a whole team of agents present, and that scared him almost as much as the bullets.
Colt raced inside while his team stayed low and fanned out. “Georgia! Call out and stay down!”
Another glass pane littered the floor, crunching under his feet.
“Georgia, call out!” Why wouldn’t she answer? Using the couch for a shield, he surveyed every inch and spotted Georgia near the back door.
“Georgia!”
Bloody glass lay beside her unmoving body.
FOUR
“Georgia!” Colt’s distressed voice reached Georgia’s ears as if she were underwater. She grabbed at her stinging and throbbing shoulder.
“Colt?” What happened? One minute she’d been standing at the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee and the next, glass had rained down. After that, everything transpired in what felt like slo-mo. Hollering to get down, more glass flying and then an intense burn before she dropped to the floor. Where were her dogs? “The dogs...” she said weakly.
“Mae has them. They’re okay.”
Rhett dashed inside. “Everyone all right?”
Georgia tried to sit, but Colt kept his hand on her. “You’ve been hit, Georgia. I don’t think it’s bad, but you’re surrounded by glass and I need you to be still. First responders are on the way.”
Sirens sounded in the distance. Poppy swept into the living room, glass crunching beneath her feet. “Deputies are here, too. I see them down the drive. Looks like the shooter is gone. If he saw Georgia go down, he may think he dropped her dead.”
Colt forcefully cleared his throat. Even Georgia heard the warning and reprimand in it.
Poppy cringed. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Georgia said. “You aren’t saying anything I don’t already know.”
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Colt asked.
“I don’t think so.”
First responders entered the house and made haste getting to her.
Commands, instructions and suggestions swirled together. In only a few seconds, she’d been lifted up, carried out to the ambulance and was being treated.
Georgia’s brain was foggy, and spots teetered on the outskirts of her vision.
“She’s hyperventilating,” a female voice called then forced Georgia to focus on her and breathe deeply. Finally, it evened out and she was lucid.
“She doesn’t need stitches,” the female responder said. Georgia winced at the burn when the EMT cleaned her wounds. “You’re a blessed woman to have few cuts. The bullet grazed your shoulder.”
She was definitely blessed. Everyone had escaped with their lives and minimal damage. Colt had been out there in the open. He could have been injured or killed. Once again, her stomach knotted, and she worked to replace the thoughts with positive ones. Colt hadn’t been hurt. He’d rescued her. He was trained.
The ball in her gut remained.
“Do you want to come to the hospital?” the EMT asked. “We have to ask, you know.”
“No, thank you.” If they could bandage her up and send her on her way, she’d much rather do that.
Only deputies remained as they searched the perimeter and talked with Colt and his team.
Her dogs bounded toward her, and Mae followed with a smile and steady pace.
Georgia loved on her fur babies. “You’ve had a bunch of scares, haven’t you?” Shelties were prone to being skittish and anxious. The irony of her dog choice was not lost on her, but her babies were solid and appeared fine.
“I think we’ve all had a few scares,” Mae said and patted Georgia’s uninjured shoulder. “How you holding up for real?”
“God’s grace is sufficient for me.” The Scripture of her life, the one she banked on, lived by and repeated even if it felt like she was drowning in a pool of fear and anxiety. “But I kinda want to crawl in a hole and stay there. Also, I want to find out who this guy is and put him away for life. Not just for me, but for Jared.” She could be brave. She could continue the fight.
Mae nodded knowingly. “That’s the thing about God’s grace. You don’t realize what it will get you through until you’re through it.”
True. Georgia’s imagination had always been grand, and her default was the glass-half-empty outlook. She’d never thought she’d survive something like being attacked and shot at—but it had happened, and she was alive on her feet. Terrified and worried about what would come next. Anxious over the uncertainty—but God’s grace would also get her through tomorrow when tomorrow became today.
Colt rounded a corner with a quilt from her guest room and draped it around her. “Hey, champ. How do you feel?”
“I’m gonna take the dogs inside.” Mae strode toward the house and enticed the pups to follow with the promise of treats.
“I feel like I’ve been shot and bathed in glass. Crazy, huh?” She laughed, and it garnered her a smile. The lines around his deep-set blue eyes crinkled.
“Yeah. I mean, why on earth would you feel like that?” he teased and touched her cheek. “You scared me, woman. Scared me real good.”
“Sorry. If it makes you feel better, I was scared, too.” Still was. “More than ever I know we’re onto something. That Dandy was onto something.”
“I agree,” he said and carefully put his arm around her. “Rhett and Poppy are inside cleaning up the glass. I’ll call and see about getting someone out here to repair the windows. But we may have to board them if we can’t get anyone with the right measurements in stock. I know you don’t go out much—that the idea can set off anxiety—but consider moving to the motel with us. You can bunk with Mae and Poppy.”
Enclosed. One way in. One way out. The idea pushed her to the edge of a meltdown. “I don’t think I can. I know it feels like I’m being difficult, but I’m not.” She hoped he could understand, but his lips turned down. He was clearly displeased at her answer. Once again she was disappointing him and being a burden.
“I’ll make that phone call. Herb Jones Glass still in business?” Herb ha
d replaced Colt’s car window when he’d accidentally shot it out with a BB gun. His dad had lit into him—and probably worse—when he got home.
“Yeah. His son, Herb Jr., runs it now, though.”
“I’ll get his number, see if he can do me a solid on a Sunday. No windows mean extra vulnerability and easier access to you. All he has to do is come back and keep shooting.” He cringed. “Sorry. I don’t intend to scare you—well, I guess I do, Georgia. You’re scared to leave but you need to be more scared to stay.” He sighed. “Come on, you can’t be out here.”
Georgia followed him inside, the wind blowing through the quilt, leaving her chilled. Or maybe it was the hollowness she felt as Colt’s words. She was afraid to stay. She knew the risk of remaining home. But he didn’t understand. And it wasn’t something that could easily be explained, especially to someone who had no idea what it felt like to suffer from this.
Mae approached her with a cup of steaming tea, the scent of peppermint reaching her before the cup. “Hey, thought you might need something to settle your stomach.” She had a soft and easy way about her, but her gaze stayed alert and watchful. “I kenneled your pups for now. Keep them safe while they clean up the glass. Want some company?” She pointed to the two chairs near the front door but away from the windows.
She’d like new hardwiring. “Thank you. You’ve been kind, and I appreciate it.”
Mae sipped coffee from a thermal cup. “Colt’s worried about you. He feels like his hands are tied.”
“I should go to the motel.” But if she couldn’t handle being there, the embarrassment would be too much.
“We got a nice fat break for the day,” Poppy said as she entered the living room. “Projectile from the rifle yesterday match the bullets in the house. One shooter, or at least one gun. So that’s good. Better than an army of killers trying to take you out.”
Georgia opened her mouth, and Mae put a hand on her forearm. “Yes, Poppy. One killer is better than two. Just the comfort we need right now.”
“Right.” She gave them a thumbs-up and strode outside with a big box full of glass.