Tomorrow, I’d regret this. Tonight, I just needed to be near him.
Twenty-Three
Stella
Present Day
The next morning, I awoke to an empty bed and rumpled sheets. For a brief second, I blinked at the blue walls and thought I was a kid again. Then I remembered Owen, the way he’d held me tight throughout the night, his feathery kisses to the top of my head, and the heat of his body pressed against mine. Even with my head and heart in turmoil, I couldn’t deny how good it felt to be in his presence.
After a quick shower, I threw some clothes into a suitcase and dragged it downstairs. Owen met me in the hallway with a cup of coffee. My eyes went immediately to his bare chest. He rubbed his free hand across his flat stomach. When I lifted my eyes to his face, the sight of his square jaw covered in the dark shadow of a new beard made my heart palpitate. Why did he have to be so damned sexy?
“I would’ve brought that down for you,” he said while pressing the coffee into my hand.
“I’m used to doing it myself.” Despite spending the night in each other’s arms, the distance between us continued to grow. I went to the kitchen window and stared across the backyard to avoid his gaze. Dew sparkled on the green grass. A few red leaves drifted on the September breeze before floating down to the lawn. The seasons hovered on the brink of change, and so did I.
A green long-sleeved Henley shirt hung on the back of a kitchen chair. Owen pulled it over his head then ran both hands through his hair. He leaned against the kitchen counter. I fiddled with my phone. We couldn’t seem to look at each other. After a few seconds of painful silence, I downed the rest of my coffee and said, “Well, I probably should get going.”
“Sure.” He swept his truck keys from the counter and headed toward the door.
“Are you leaving?”
“I’m taking you to the airport.”
“No. Owen, that’s really not—”
He cut me off with a fingertip to my lips. “What kind of guy sends a girl into a volcano alone? Not this one.” As he walked toward the door, he shouldered the straps of my equipment, managing to haul everything but my carry-on. I stared after him, wordless. Blue eyes met mine over his shoulder. “Coming? Or do I have to carry you too?”
I trotted across the driveway at his heels. He placed my bags into the backseat of his truck. The sleeve of my jacket brushed his arm as he opened the passenger side door. We were so close that I could feel the heat from his body in the chilly morning air. He emanated heat like a wood stove. I looked into his eyes to see if he felt the attraction, but he’d raised his guard again.
The crunch of tires on gravel startled us both. A green Honda pulled into the driveway behind Owen’s truck, blocking our exit. When the door opened, Velma stepped out. The hairs on the back of my neck lifted.
“Good morning. Did I catch you at a bad time?” Her ponytail swung as she advanced toward us.
“I’m headed for the airport. I’ve got a flight to catch,” I said.
She ignored my answer, heading straight to Owen. “Owen, hi. I’m Velma Nixon with The Mathis County Reporter. It’s great to meet you.”
“Hello.” He shook her hand. Even though he was a few inches behind me, I felt his body stiffen.
“I’m here to do a follow-up article on the Cartwright girl and thought I’d stop by to see you both. Owen, I don’t know if you’re aware, but your brother Chris, the one you killed, was a person of interest in her case.” My blood chilled at her words.
“That’s enough.” My temper snapped. No one was going to confront him in my presence. I pointed toward the road. “Off my property. Now.”
“Please. I’m just here to get the story. I’ve been looking into your history, Owen, and there are quite a few things about your conviction that don’t make any sense. I thought maybe you could set the record straight and give me insight into the kind of person your brother was.”
“I’ve got nothing to say.” Owen straightened. Tension sharpened his jawline. Velma took a step back. I didn’t blame her. He could be intimidating when he wanted. “Stella says you’re not welcome here.”
“Leave now, or I’m calling the police.” To emphasize my point, I withdrew my phone from my pocket. “Don’t come back.”
She sighed and shook her head. “I’d hoped, as a fellow journalist, you’d be sympathetic to my cause.”
“Here’s a little advice for you.” I moved toward her, herding her backward in the direction of her car. “The world of journalism is very small. Don’t shit on the people who can help you.”
“If I could get the scoop on Owen’s story, it would be very helpful.” Her audacity stunned me. I kept walking her backward until she bumped into her car. She fumbled for the door handle, calling out to Owen over my shoulder. “You’ve got my card. Call me if you decide you want to talk.”
We watched as she backed out of the driveway. In silence, he helped me into the truck. We drove for several miles before either of us spoke. His fingers clenched tightly around the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white.
“We’re never going to outlive this thing,” he said. I’d never heard him so angry before. He slammed his hand against the steering wheel. “Chris is haunting us from the grave.”
It pained me to see him upset. I rested my palm on the top of his thigh. “I don’t know what to do about it. I feel bad leaving you like this. Maybe you should come with me.”
He covered my hand with his and squeezed. A bit of humor returned to his face. “I can’t leave. I have to work.” He lifted my fingers to his lips and brushed a kiss across the tips. “Besides, I’ve never run away from anything in my life. I’m sure as hell not running because of this.”
“An active volcano is looking pretty good to me about now,” I muttered. Owen laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest.
At the airport, he swept my hair over my shoulders and stared deeply into my eyes. Those darned butterflies started up again, fluttering their wings against the walls of my stomach. He smiled. “Be careful, okay? I’ll be waiting on you when you get back.”
I watched him walk away, admiring his broad back, the snug fit of his jeans, and the confidence in his stride. This man had me tied up in knots. Maybe fate had torn us apart then brought us back together for a reason. As he disappeared through the sliding glass doors, a sense of loss swept over me. I missed him already. Which was crazy.
While I waited on my flight, I seized the opportunity to call Lanie. She didn’t answer, so I left a voice mail. “Lanie, I’ve never asked you for anything before, but I’m asking you now. No, I’m begging you. If you know something about Chris’s death that will help Owen, please, please consider telling someone. He doesn’t deserve this.”
The cool, crisp air of Iceland cleared my head. I threw myself into capturing perfect shots. Long days provided plenty of light, and the brilliant, surreal landscape offered infinite subject matter. At night, I stared at the ceiling of my hotel room and thought about Owen. What was he doing? Was he asleep? Did he think about me?
Owen had sacrificed a college football scholarship and his future to save me. Where would life have taken him if he hadn’t met me? No matter what he’d done, I knew he would’ve been successful. Maybe he’d have a wife and kids and a nice house in the suburbs. The more I thought about it, the more miserable I felt. The whole time he’d thought I was the one who’d killed his brother, and still, he’d remained silent to preserve my freedom.
I rolled onto my stomach and punched the pillow harder than necessary. He’d been noble and gallant and more of a man at seventeen than anyone I’d ever known. There had to be something I could do to redeem his reputation. I considered talking to the police, despite his warnings. In my experience, life had never been fair, and this was just one more curve ball thrown into my way.
No matter how many times I went over the evidence in Chris’s death, the pieces of the puzzle didn’t fit. If Owen hadn’t killed his brother, then who? I always cam
e up with the same answer, one I didn’t want to accept. I rearranged my flight plans and texted Owen that I wouldn’t need a ride home from the airport. Then I texted Michael.
Twenty-Four
Stella
Present Day
Michael’s office smelled of new paint. I sat stiffly on a chair in front of his desk, feeling out of place in my blue jeans, drained from a night of travel. Framed photos of the courthouse hung above his desk. Anxiety twisted my stomach. I was taking an enormous chance by being here, but I couldn’t see any other way.
After waiting for thirty minutes, Michael entered the room with an apology. He placed a cool kiss on my cheek, then took a seat behind his desk. As always, he looked impeccable, clean-shaven, dark hair perfectly groomed, and his suit pristine. He unbuttoned his jacket and shifted in the chair with a heavy sigh. This wasn’t going to be easy for either of us.
“Sorry, I’m late. My last trial ran a little long.” His gaze searched my face, searching for answers I didn’t want to give, but that was why I came here in the first place. “How’ve you been?”
“Fine. Good. How about you?” To hide the tremor in my hands, I pressed my palms to the tops of my thighs.
“Not bad. Busy.” The springs of his chair squeaked as he leaned forward and rested his forearms on the desk. “Before we go any further, I’m glad you’re here. I want to apologize for my behavior the last time we talked. I was out of line, and I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Even though things hadn’t worked between us, I respected him for apologizing. Our relationship had ended, but I’d never stop caring for him.
“No, it’s not. I acted like an ass. I had no right to give you a hard time about seeing someone else. We never had any promises between us. You deserve to be happy. That’s all I want for you.” The touch of his hand to mine reminded me of how much I had cared for him. Before I could blink, he withdrew his hand to his lap and gave me a wry smile. “What can I do for you? You were very mysterious on the phone.”
“Did you look into the details of Owen’s case?” I licked my lips to ease their dryness.
“I had to call in a few favors to get his case file, but it’s not good.” He withdrew a folder and ruffled through the pages. “I have to say, it looks like he got a bum deal all the way around. He hasn’t had so much as a parking ticket during his entire life. The evidence was circumstantial. The conviction was based entirely upon his confession. It looks like they knocked the charge down from murder to manslaughter because they couldn’t make it stick any other way.” The color of his eyes darkened. He grimaced, like he’d tasted something bad. “Since he confessed, there was no trial, and therefore no other suspects were introduced into the case. DNA might have been able to absolve him. Forensics has come a long way since then. Unfortunately, the courthouse burned down a few years ago, and most of the physical evidence was lost or destroyed.”
“Does it say anything in there about me or Lanie?” I asked, steeling my nerves.
“Your names are mentioned as persons of interest, but there’s nothing to incriminate either one of you.” The chair springs squeaked as he leaned back. “Like I said, a good deal of the documentation is missing.” The furrow between his brows deepened. “I still don’t know why you’re here.”
“What if he didn’t do it? What if the whole deal was a mistake? Can you help me?”
“Stella, I don’t know.” His expression changed from one of cool resolve to tenderness. “You really care about this guy, don’t you?” I nodded. “If Owen wants to get the crime expunged, he needs to see a criminal attorney. I’m sure Lisa would be more than happy to help him, but I have to tell you, it’s probably not going to happen.”
I cringed at the mention of her name but pushed aside the petty jealousy. This meeting was about Owen, not me. “Owen doesn’t know I’m here. I need to talk to someone I can trust. Will you just listen to what I have to say? Off the record?”
“Shit.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I could get sanctioned for this, but okay.” He got to his feet and locked the door. When he returned, he took a seat on the corner of his desk in front of me and clasped his hands in his lap. “Talk.”
I told him everything from the first time I met Owen to the night of Chris’s murder, leaving out my suspicions about Lanie. He listened patiently, nodding occasionally, until I finished. “So, you see, he confessed to keep them from charging me.”
“Wow.” After clearing his throat, he shook his head. The motion released the scents of his aftershave and shampoo. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Is there anything I can do to help him?” I asked, fighting against the tightness in my throat.
“If you ask me, you should just let it go, Stella. He’s already served his sentence, and like he said, the most likely suspect after him was you.” He stood and straightened his tie, signaling the end of our discussion, before reclaiming his chair behind the desk. “Anyway, the crime occurred in my jurisdiction, and I have no desire to reopen the case. If Owen wants to pursue the matter, he needs to consult his attorney. Should the matter get in front of a judge, I’ll give it another look.”
“But don’t you understand? He didn’t do it.” I slammed both hands on the desk, bending to his eye level.
“Stella, calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down.” Tears of frustration burned my eyes. “It’s so unfair. You haven’t seen the way people treat him. He’s a good man—the best. He doesn’t deserve this.”
He steepled his fingers in front of him. We stared at each other. After a few seconds, he rolled his eyes. “Damn, you’re so stubborn. You won’t let this go, will you?”
“No.”
“What if I dig into this case, and you’re the prime suspect? Are you prepared for the consequences?”
“Yes.” No, I wasn’t prepared, but Owen had sacrificed everything for me. If I had to give up my freedom in order to restore his future, I’d do it in a heartbeat.
He left his desk to pace in front of the fireplace. His dark good looks fit in with the muted gray tones of the office décor. A minute passed before he spoke. “You’d give up everything for a man you haven’t seen in eighteen years? Do you know how crazy that sounds?”
“Yes, Michael, I know. Believe me. I’ve been torturing myself over the situation for the past few weeks.” I went to the window and stared over the city. The fourth floor offered a nice view of the park. The trees had begun to turn. Their crimson and gold leaves dotted the sidewalk, making me wish I had time to shoot a few photographs.
“Do you love him?” Michael’s voice came from directly behind me. He stared over my shoulder, not quite touching me. Out of habit, I wanted to turn and put my arms around his neck, but I stopped myself.
“I don’t know.” I’d been wracking my brain over that question but still hadn’t found the answer. “But I did, and that’s what matters.”
Twenty-Five
Stella
Present Day
When the Uber pulled into my driveway, the sun hovered just above the horizon. I waited in the car for a few seconds to gather my wits. Owen’s truck sat next to the garage. Yellow light spilled through the bay window and pooled on the lawn. Someone, probably Owen, had mowed the grass. New gray siding and dark blue shutters had transformed the pitiful exterior of the house to something of beauty. Pride spread through my chest. It looked like home. My home. Mine. No one had the power to kick me out or send me away. For the first time since I was twelve, I belonged somewhere.
“Thanks,” I told the driver, a young kid, and gave him a tip for helping with my bags. Owen, hearing the car, came out the front door to stand on the porch. Seeing his tall silhouette and broad shoulders made my heart stutter.
“Hey, let me get those for you.” In a few long strides, he reached my side and hauled the equipment to the house. He piled everything in the hallway. “How was your trip?”
“Good.” I tucked my hair behind my ears, suddenly feeling s
hy. “How did things go here?”
“Great.” The deep rumble of his voice stirred my nipples to life. I crossed my arms over my chest to hide the way they strained against my T-shirt. “Kitchen’s almost done. Appliances are in. The security alarm is installed. You’re good to go.”
After a quick tour of the updates and a tutorial on the alarm system, we stood facing each other in the living room. A week had passed, but it felt like a lifetime. He seemed uncomfortable, barely meeting my gaze. A cool breeze drifted in through the open door. I shivered and rubbed my hands over my arms.
“Well, I’m sure you’re exhausted. I should head home. Don’t forget to set the alarm like I showed you,” he said. One of his hands rested on the handle of the screen door. Any second now, he was going to leave.
The play of shadow and light from the dying sun gave his face a fierce sharpness. I felt the gap growing wider between us. “I went to see Michael today.”
He flinched, like he’d been stung. “Oh? Are you getting back together?”
“No.” I didn’t appreciate the cool unconcern of his tone. Had I imagined the chemistry between us? My lips still stung from the memory of his kisses. This couldn’t be a one-sided attraction. “I told him everything.”
“You what?” Fire flashed in his eyes. A muscle ticked below his cheekbone. “Are you fucking insane?”
“I wanted to see if there was something I could do for you.” At his rare show of temper, I backed up a step. My hands began to tremble. “I asked him to look into it.”
Lies We Tell Page 15
