Fear The Storm (Storm Warning Series Book 1)

by Geri Foster

  "Why do you say that? I mean, why do you think he is over it?”

  "I saw Bobby Joe out with Melissa Brooks three days ago and he didn't look like he was broken-hearted over his and Kendall’s split."

  She nibbled her fingernails. "So, you think he's gotten over the whole relationship? Good for Kendall, bad for Melissa."

  "I can't say he has for sure, but my guess is that he's moved on. As for Melissa? I’m keeping an eye on that. One sign he’s up to anything like what he did to Kendall and I’m all over him." He clenched his jaw, balling his fists.

  She touched his arm, gently. "None of us knew about that side of him. And when we found it? You can only do so much. Kendall had to want to get out on her own.”

  He relaxed his grip and sighed. “I know. You’re right. It just wasn’t easy to watch that and not be able to stop it. And Bobby Joe? He was such a good guy growing up. What happened?”

  She shrugged, “I don’t know. I always liked him, except for when he drank. He wasn’t such a good guy to Kendall then. I guess I always told myself their love for each other burned hot. She’d scream right back at him, arguing and getting mad, then, they’d be fine again. I don’t know when it started getting physical, she was good at hiding it."

  "Yeah, they were stone crazy for each other, but in a toxic way. Not like we were…"

  She slid him a quick glance. Their thoughts were heading in the same direction. He and Rachel were crazy in love at one time. He still was, with her. For her part, he knew she still cared. With the way she kissed him back? She had to. But love? That was something else entirely.

  "I'm exhausted. I need to get home. Mom and Grandma are worried. Besides, it's dinner time."

  "Come out to my place. I'll cook us supper."

  She lowered her gaze. "Do you honestly think that's a good idea?"

  "I do." He turned, the brim of his Stetson in his hands. "You might not, but I would like us to spend some time together."

  "Why?"

  "Because I want to know if there's anything salvageable between us. If there's a chance we could get back together."

  She shook her head. "You of all people know better than that. After the way you treated me and my mom…I don’t think I can trust you again."

  "I was young, but I never disrespected your mom. I treated her with every ounce of respect I had. I was good to your dad, too. You know that now."

  She flung back her hair. "Then what about me?" She balled her fists. "How do you think you treated me?"

  "Poorly, very poorly." He hung his head. "You were the girl I loved. I kept my distance because my job was threatened."

  "Being a deputy meant more to you than I did."

  "I didn’t look at it that way back then. With only a month on the job, I didn't want to screw up."

  "And showing me some compassion would've hurt your career?" she snarled, her nostrils flaring. "I had thought you were a better man than that Lucas Quinn." She turned to walk away and he followed.

  "I am now. Give me the chance to prove it to you.” She kept walking, so he picked up the pace. “At the very least, let me drive you home."

  "I called my mom. She's waiting in the parking lot," she threw over her shoulder, never looking back.

  Stopping short, in an instant he was alone—again.

  * * *

  By the time Rachel got to her mom's car, she had to bite back the tears, trying not to sniffle. It was becoming clear a mistake had been made in coming back to Rainwater, opening old wounds that wouldn’t heal.

  Opening the door, she settled in and shut it. "Thanks, Mom. I didn't want Lucas to have to drive out of his way."

  "Grandma's house isn't out of his way."

  She looked behind them at the well-lit hospital lobby, where Lucas stood alone. Sympathy tugged at her heart, but she pushed it away. There was a time he didn't have any for her. Now it was his turn to pay.

  "I can’t be with him, Mom. Too many bad memories."

  "I thought you two might make up while we're here."

  She turned to stare at her, unable to believe the words that had come out of her mouth. "Why on earth would you believe that? He betrayed me. Abandoned me when I needed him the most."

  Her mom waved her hand, "That was a long time ago. You’ve both grown up since then. And he still loves you."

  "How do you know that?"

  "A mom can tell these things."

  She scoffed, folding her arms. "And that’s enough? If Lucas had really loved me like he claimed he did, he would've done better. Not been so cold."

  "I agree that he should not have taken his job so seriously, but that’s youth for you. He's grown now and I'm sure he realizes his mistake."

  "He says he does, but I can’t help but doubt every word that comes out of his mouth."

  They came to a stop sign and her mom applied the brakes, turning to look at her. "Rachel, why can't you admit these last eight years were miserable for you? Not just because of your dad, but because of Lucas, too. Because of the feelings you still have for him. Now is the time to set that all straight."

  "How can I when my dad is sitting in jail for a crime he didn't do?"

  "That's not Lucas' fault," her mom stepped on the accelerator. "Stop blaming the boy for things out of his control."

  "I’m not blaming him for Dad. I'm holding him accountable for the way he left me in the dirt after the trial." Tears coursed down her cheeks. After all this time, she had thought those tears were all dried up. "The way he ignored me, shunned me, never bothered to come for me."

  Her mom put her arm on her shoulder and squeezed. "Oh, sweetheart. Love can be so cruel. I'm sure Lucas would love to have those times back. I think, knowing what he does now, he would've done better."

  "It's too late."

  "Is it? So you’d rather continue living a life full of anger and disillusionment than fighting for what you really want? Don’t you find it strange that there were no second dates in the past eight years? You spend your weekends alone, reading and watching reruns on TV."

  "That's not true. Sometimes I go out with my friends."

  "Where?" her mom asked biting back a chuckle. "To a movie and dinner at a Mexican restaurant. Hell, Rachel, I have more of a social life than you and I'm waiting for my husband to get out of prison."

  That truth crushed her.

  She certainly couldn’t brag about her social life over the last eight years. At first, she thought everything she experienced came with the territory. Considering her dad's prison internment and the man she loved leaving her high and dry.

  But then it grew worse.

  Every man she dated was measured against Lucas. From his height to what he did for a living. All the way to what beer he drank. For eight years she did nothing but try to convince herself that she didn't love Lucas anymore. That he didn't exist, that they had no future.

  Still, no other man came close to what she had felt for him…to what she still felt for him.

  She rubbed her forehead. "God, I wish I'd never come back here." She turned to her mom. "Now do you see why I stayed away? Why I can't come back even after dad's released? This isn't the place for me. It hurts too much, it’s too confusing."

  "Now, don’t say that, Rachel. You're overreacting. Why don't you and Lucas sit down and have a conversation? Allow him to explain." Pulling into the drive and stopping the car, her mom leaned over and wiped the tears from her cheek. "Let him apologize and try to hear what he is saying. Open up a little."

  "We have, and he has. But it's hard for me to climb over the pain and disappointment. I’m not sure that I can."

  * * *

  Kendall had had all the love and affection she could stand for one day. Her mom practically refused to allow her out of her sight long enough to go to the bathroom. After fixing her favorite dinner, her mom now stood at the counter mixing chocolate chip cookie batter, while her dad had run to the store to get ice cream.

  If they continued feeding her like this, in a few days,
she wouldn't be able to get out the door. So much food had been poked down her throat since they arrived home, she felt like a contestant on The Biggest Gainer.

  "I'm going up to my room to lie down for a few minutes," she said. "I'll come down later for ice cream and cookies."

  Her mom rushed over and scooped up the afghan on the arm of the chair. "Why not rest right here on the couch? That way I can keep an eye on you."

  She inwardly groaned, but forced a smile. "I'm good, Mom." Turning, she headed upstairs. "I just need to close my eyes for a few minutes."

  "If you need anything call me."

  "I will."

  Closing the door to her childhood room she leaned back, letting out a deep breath of frustration. The room had remained the same as it was the day she married Bobby Joe. Pink walls, wallpaper trim at the top with umbrellas and rainbows, and a pink bedspread with a big colorful unicorn stitched in the center. The bed, dresser and nightstand were all the same and as clean as if her mom had just dusted.

  How would she ever get out of here? No doubt, tomorrow, at breakfast, both of her parents would give her the old, 'move back home' speech.

  She couldn't do it.

  Reaching in her back pocket, she pulled out her phone and called Lucas. He answered on the first ring. "What's wrong, Kendall?"

  She dropped on her bed and huffed. "Nothing, for crying out loud."

  "What are you so mad about?"

  "I'm at my parents’ house."

  "Enough said." A slight pause filled the space between them and she realized Lucas didn’t sound any better than her. "The hospital give you something for pain?"

  "The only pain I have is in my ass." She pinched her nostrils together. "And my nose.”

  He chuckled. "That's what families are for.” Pause. “What's on your mind?"

  "I remembered more about the accident."

  "That's not unusual. Most people, given time to think, come up with more details."

  "Lucas," she lowered her voice, "someone tried to run me off the road."

  "I know.”

  “You do?” she said, surprised. “How?”

  “For one, I saw the SUV leaving the scene. Plus, I had Charlie out there and he came up with the same conclusion. Can you think of anyone who might do this?"

  "No, and that's why it's so confusing. I can't think of a single person who might want to hurt me, much less kill me." She paused. "I'm sure the first person to come to your mind is Bobby Joe, but this isn’t his style. He enjoys a really good argument before he attacks. He wouldn’t just run me off the road."

  "I know, but I'm still going to talk to him."

  "I hope he doesn't say anything to my folks. They are about to smother me to death as it is. If they even suspected someone wanted to hurt me, they’d put me in the witness protection plan."

  He chuckled. "There has to be an investigation."

  "I know," she sighed, not looking forward to all the attention. Once word got out around town, the gossip would drown out even the holiday spirit. "It'll just make it uglier."

  "Finding out who did this to you won't be ugly."

  She propped herself up on a stack of pillows. "So, how was your day with Rachel?" The question had been on her mind since the incident. Rachel carried a lot of resentment, and she didn't think a few days had changed her feelings.

  "We spoke with Nancy Wigan and she had a few interesting facts, but nothing really useful.”

  “And you’re tackling the FBI soon. Is Rachel going to go with you?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m asking again.”

  “Nancy was a wash, huh?”

  “In a way. She claims there wasn’t any money taken from the bank and the FBI didn’t want her to testify, only give a statement. Even Jim’s lawyer didn’t question her.”

  “Well, that’s strange as hell. She worked with the guy every day. If anyone knew about money being taken from the bank, wouldn’t it be Nancy?”

  “My thoughts exactly. She claims to have given Sheriff Townson a note to pass on to the DA and the FBI. I’ll be looking for that in the evidence locker tomorrow.”

  "How about you and Rachel?"

  "Kendall, between me and you, it's a nightmare. I don't honestly think she is ever going to forgive me. She's still so angry, so disappointed in me." He let out a troubling sigh. "It just reminds me of what a heel I was. I should have been better. I should've gone to her family and comforted her. Instead I followed the rules, and did what I was told, and minded my own business."

  "No one can blame you for that, Lucas," Kendall said softly. "It's simply the way it is. What I wouldn't give to go back and relive my life. If I could, that day Bobby Joe Cochran kissed me behind the bleachers, I would have stayed away from him like he was a man on fire instead. And never looked back."

  "None of us knew the violence he held inside. You can’t blame yourself for that. There’s always time for a second chance at love for you, Kendall."

  "No thank you, mister. After what I went through with that maniac, I'm done with men. I think I'll live to be a little old maid and never have children. It's simply not worth it."

  "You just picked the wrong person. There's somebody out there for you."

  "I gotta go, my mom's calling me. She probably wants to put something else down my throat to eat." She rubbed her stomach. "Like I need more food."

  "You just get a good night's rest. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Good night."

  "Good night."

  Chapter 15

  Lucas had another rough night where sleep was impossible. He barely closed his eyes. All he kept thinking about was Rachel, and how to make the situation between them better, when he should have been thinking about how to find all the facts concerning Jim's trial.

  After dressing and heading out the door, he jumped in his pickup and hit the drive-through, grabbing a cup of coffee on his way out of town to see Sheriff Townson. He was curious if he had ever gotten that information from Nancy, and what had happened to it. He’d called and postponed his visit to the FBI in order to find out.

  Townson lived on the edge of town in a newly built cabin. Pretty fancy place for a retired Sheriff who lived alone. After pulling into the driveway and shutting off his car, he walked up on the porch and knocked on the door.

  The former Sheriff answered dressed in a nice pair of khakis, a white shirt, a wide belt with a big buckle. A ready smile deepened the wrinkles on his face. "Good morning there, son. What brings you out here?"

  "If I could, I have a few questions to run by you."

  His brows wrinkled and he paused before answering, "What kind of questions?"

  "About Jim Snyder's trial."

  Turning around, clearly resigned to the conversation, he stalked toward the kitchen, calling out, "Coffee?"

  Lucas stepped into the cabin and past the burning fireplace in the open living area, following Townson into the kitchen. "Just finished one. I think I'll lay off for a while." Sitting on a stool at the counter, he waited.

  Townson put a pod in his Keurig coffeemaker and waited for a cup to brew. The machine clicked on and the scent of fresh brewed coffee filled the air. Crossing his arms, lips tight, he turned and looked at Lucas. "You should keep your nose out of that shit.” He pointed his finger. “You know nothing good's going to come out of that."

  “I have to ask.”

  Townson waved his hands in the air. "I know Rachel and her mama are in town, and it's only natural for them to be curious after all this time. But you and I both know what’s done is done. Everything was said at the trial. The rest of it’s not our business. The case belongs to the FBI."

  "I’m driving to Dallas tomorrow to check out the evidence locker. I want to make sure we didn't miss anything." Townson’s eyes grew wide with surprise. "Now you listen here, don’t go stirring up trouble," he shook his finger at Lucas. "You won’t find anything. Besides, our hands are clean."

  "Are they?"

  "You’re damn right they are. When old Burke ca
me to me and said there was money missing in the bank, we had no choice but to call the FBI. Hell, son, you and I don't know anything about bank business. How could we work a case like that?"

  "So, you just took Burke's word for it?"

  He shrugged. "What the hell was I supposed to do? Call the man a liar? Go in and start tearing things apart and demanding to see books and records and receipts? Hell, I didn't know what I was looking at, and neither did you."

  Lucas came to his feet, turned and walked toward the door. He stopped, then, glanced over his shoulder. “Maybe I wouldn’t have known what I was looking at, maybe I would have. You never let me see any of the evidence, so who can say for sure.”

  Townson scoffed, "I didn't do a damn thing and nobody can prove I did. That includes you, hotshot."

  "We'll see about that."

  * * *

  Sitting in Lucas’ truck as he drove her to Frankie’s Bar, Rachel bit her lip, nervous. She had agreed to go with him that evening, though she had no idea why, except maybe her talk with her mom had left her more curious about what could happen, if she let it. "Do you know I have no idea what the inside of Frankie's Bar looks like?"

  He thought for a few minutes. "That's right. You were too young to drink."

  "I wanted to when I turned eighteen, but things happened."

  "I would've never taken you regardless of your age."

  "You're taking me now."

  "I'm taking you because you're twenty-five, and it's six in the evening. We won't stay long."

  "It's that bad?"

  "Not always, but one never can tell with Frankie's. It can be nice and calm one minute, and all hell breaks out the next."

  They pulled into the bar's gravel parking lot and her anticipation grew. They were just exiting his pick-up when Kendall pulled up next to them.

  "So, I guess you're not super spy anymore, huh?" Lucas teased. “Jeanette is a tough cookie. Can't say I didn't warn you."