With that, Jay pulls my lips to his. His kiss is tender but passionate. When he licks the seam of my lips, I open for him. I expect his patience to wear thin as he deepens our kiss, but he remains strong as he begins to undress me.
By the time we’re both in only our underwear, tucked under the covers, I’m a ball of tension and need. The moment he tucks his body against mine, a single word echoes through my mind.
Home.
Chapter Twenty
When I left LA four days ago, dread consumed me. I didn’t want to be here. I was afraid to come back. Knowing the agony I felt five years ago would be all-consuming it was the last thing I wanted to do. Yet, I forced myself to get on the plane.
In my heart, I knew it was necessary. Not only that, but I didn’t want to let Spencer down. He said he needed me here so I came.
My goal was to ignore the pain and head back home as soon as possible.
Home now has a new meaning. Home is not the place you lay your head at night, it’s a feeling.
Great Falls was once my home. The people here welcomed me into their lives. My friends became my family and we navigated this crazy ride called life. Together.
As I stare at my partially packed suitcase while Jay showers, a new sense of dread is coursing through my veins.
I’m heading back to an empty apartment. No one will be there to greet me. No one to hold me at night or watch a movie with me. No one to wipe away my tears when I’m overcome with emotion.
I’ve always thought LA was where I was meant to be, but life has taken on new meaning the last few days. Not just because of Jay, either.
My heart has closure.
I’ve accepted Sam’s death.
More importantly, I’ve accepted the fact that I wasn’t the cause of it.
Yes, I should have made my flight that morning. Yes, I should have been working that night instead of her.
At the end of the day, I screwed up, but I wasn’t the one who killed her. I wasn’t the reason she never made it home that night. I was only the reason she was in the park to begin with.
And I’m not the only one who made it possible for her to be in that park.
Spencer could have picked her up. Jay could have come back to town and driven her home.
We all had our reasons for not being here, for not stepping up. None of us are responsible for what happened, though.
I imagine the guilt won’t dissipate any time soon. I’ll always wonder what would have happened if she hadn’t worked my shift but I’m no longer blaming myself.
Sam wouldn’t want me to.
She’d want me to find a way to go one. To live life with a smile on my face, seeking my next adventure. She’d want my heart filled with love, not regret.
So, I will. I’ll live for Sam. For the life she was cheated out of.
“You’re so beautiful when you smile.” Jay’s words warm my heart as he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me against his firm, damp chest. I don’t care he’s getting my blouse wet, or that I’m thinking about Sam. All I care about is the way I feel when I’m in his arms.
This is home.
The very definition of what it should feel like.
Warm. Welcoming. Loved.
Home is a feeling, not a place.
I repeat the phrase over and over again because home is where your heart is. And my heart belongs to Jay.
“You need to get dressed so we can head to the station,” I state, turning in his arms and placing a chaste kiss over his heart. “We’re going to be late.”
“What if I’m not ready to leave you yet?”
“You’re not leaving me,” I say, taking a step back … only for him to pull me in tighter and clasp his hands behind my back.
“This suddenly feels like good-bye.”
“It’s not, I promise.”
When I woke up in his arms this morning, I vowed it wouldn’t be the last time. We still have a lot to figure out, shit to work through, distance to erase, but I will wake up in his arms again. Soon.
Jay’s only response is a pantie-melting grin, his dimple making an appearance, before pressing his lips to mine for a swift kiss.
“I sure hope not,” he finally says, releasing me and stepping back before dropping his towel dramatically to the floor.
If he’s trying to turn me on, the kiss was plenty. Seeing him naked, taking in all of him, every glorious angle, only heightens the growing need I’m feeling.
But we don’t have time for that right now. We really are running late. Not to mention, I want my last memory of him to be pure.
There will be plenty of time to make more memories. Dirty, clean, and every kind in between.
With his bag slung over his shoulder, Jay leads me out the front door of the B&B and to his waiting car. The drive to the police station is short and quiet. There’s not a whole lot we can say about what happens next. Everything is riding on the profile I’m about to present and I need to stay focused.
When we arrive, the chief and his entire force are waiting for us. Being a small town, there are only a handful of cops, including Spencer. They’re seated around a conference room table, eagerly awaiting my presentation.
Jay stands in the back of the room, between Spencer and the chief, who seems to be in a foul mood this morning. With a nod of encouragement, I launch into my speech.
“Good morning. For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Andrea Morris. I graduated from GFU five years ago and Samantha Bridges was my best friend. With a degree in psychology and behavioral sciences, I’ve been working as a profiler for the state of California for the last four years. Today, I would like to present you with a profile of the man who murdered Sam with the sincere hope that we’re able to find justice for her, her family, and her friends.”
The eight men and two women sitting around the table all nod at me in unison. I can see the determination in their eyes. They want this as much as I do.
“Please remember that a profile is not a hundred percent accurate. Every murderer is different. From their motives to mental state. Someone you may never expect could be a cold-blooded killer. He knows how to only show you what you want to see. To hide his true self. That’s something I think this particular person has done. He’s mastered the art of deception.
“Yes, we are looking for a man. More than likely he was in his mid-to-late twenties at the time of the murder. And you know him. He is a local of the Great Falls community. He knew Sam. Whether he came here for school or grew up here, he’s part of this town. To better understand who you might be looking for, I need to explain who he is inside first. The person you don’t see.
“There are two kinds of killers … organized and unorganized. This man is organized. He planned to kill Sam. He took the necessary steps to avoid being caught. There wasn’t a detail he didn’t go over. From wearing black clothes head-to-toe to wearing gloves so there was no DNA evidence. He bought the rope and tape in advance, more than likely from another town, and he paid in cash so his purchase couldn’t be traced back to him. He’s also what I’d categorize as a pathological, obsessive killer.
“What that means is he watches, stalks his victims. He knew Sam’s habits. Knew she walked home through the park. Knew her schedule and was a regular at Riley’s. Over time, he became obsessed with her. He would have tried to be her friend first, and in his mind, their relationship was blossoming. He would have asked her out on multiple occasions. Sam was involved with someone else and would have turned down his advances. This would have angered him. It was the trigger for his rage.”
Pausing to make sure I’m not speaking too fast, I tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear and glance around the room. The officers are scribbling notes, completely engaged in what I’m saying.
“This man suffers from PTSD, more than likely from abuse as a child at the hands of his father or male role model. It could have been physical, but more often than not it’s verbal. He was made to feel like he wasn’t good enough, no matt
er how hard he tried. He may have excelled at some things, but not all. If he was great at school, he did poor with athletics, or vice versa. His father was critical of his inabilities and compared him to others, making him feel worthless. His mother, on the other hand, was his savior.
“As resentful as he is toward his father, he has a great relationship with his mother. He compares every woman to her and has a hard time maintaining a healthy relationship because of this. Sam fit into the tiny mold. In his mind, she was the perfect woman for him, and her rejection was the catalyst for his rage. It was a murder of passion. His intention was to kill her because, in his mind, if he couldn’t have her, no one should be able to have her.
“He did make two mistakes, though, and this is how you’ll eventually be able to convict him once you determine who he is. At some point in time, he inserted himself into the investigation. He needed to know what you knew. He made himself available to help in any way possible. You more than likely interviewed him and then dismissed him as a suspect.”
“We talked to half the town,” an older, pudgy officer states. He looks seasoned, his uniform a lighter shade of navy than the officer next to him. He may have worked the original case.
“I know, and I have a list of potential suspects for you to consider. People who I highly recommend you interview a second time. In his initial interview he would have been relaxed. His arrogance wouldn’t have been noticed, but I guarantee he was smiling without a care in the world while you spoke with him. Because he knew you weren’t onto him. He was going to get away with it and the cocky grin on his face said it all. But you didn’t know it at the time.
“When you interview him again, he’ll be nervous. The entire town is aware the case is still open, that it’s being looked at again. The ones with a clear conscience won’t panic but he will.”
“What else did we miss?” the same officer asks, blowing out a breath of frustration.
“He left no evidence, but he did take some with him. Sam’s apron wasn’t with her body. It wasn’t noted in any of the files, but she would have had it with her. It’s his trophy. Yes, he’ll go back to the scene to relive his crime, but because he’s local, you’d never think twice about him being there. He took her apron and has it stashed somewhere. He’ll want to touch it, smell it. Holding it in his hands will bring him great joy.”
“Sick bastard,” I hear someone mutter.
“That’s the thing, he is sick but he’s also completely normal. He’s the life of the party. Everyone’s friend. Good looking. He fits in with the crowd, but he also knows how to blend in when necessary. One minute he’ll be there and the next he’s gone. You’d never suspect him because he’s constantly around, always pleasant and smiling. He masks his pain and it festers on the inside. Like I said, Sam hurt his feelings and it caused him to snap. He waited until the perfect moment and then struck. There was no advanced warning. No signs anyone missed. If she hadn’t been in the park that night, he would have gotten to her another time. He planned everything out in advance and watched and waited for his moment. It just so happened to be that night.”
“And what do you expect us to do with this information?” This is from the chief. Who’s standing with his arms crossed, a sour expression on his face.
“I promised you I’d give you a complete profile of the person who murdered Sam. I have. I can’t force you to do anything with it, but I highly recommend having a fresh set of eyes look over the case, keeping the profile in mind. Perhaps they’ll see something no one else does. Maybe someone will stand out to them. Because I guarantee you spoke with him five years ago. He’s in the files. He made his presence known and he’s out there, still watching this department. Especially right now.”
Spencer and Jay both nod at me in approval. I wasn’t about to let the chief walk all over me after all the time and hard work I put into this profile. With Jay’s help, it came together quicker and more complete than I expected it to. I wouldn’t have been able to finish it without him.
Normally, bouncing ideas off another person would only distract me. Especially when that other person has abs that look like Jay’s. All cut and firm—
“You said you have a list?” one of the female officers asks.
“I do, but before I share it with you, I want you to consider every member of the community. Based on what I’ve shared with you today about him, is there anyone that stands out? Anyone your guts tells you to bring in and talk to? If so, jot those names down. Hold onto them. They might match someone on the list. Your best lead will always come from what your instincts tell you. If it’s Joe Schmo that always gets hammered at the bar on Tuesday nights, you’ll know. It won’t be someone that you have run-ins with for police business, though. He’s clean. If he has a record, it would be for minor things. Traffic violations. Parking tickets. Fights. There is nothing about this man that screams killer. He hides it well.”
“And when we find him?” Spencer asks.
“When you find him, you’ll need to find Sam’s apron so you can convict him. You can’t put the murder weapon in his hand. You can’t prove he’s guilty without DNA evidence. You’ll have to find the missing piece to pin it on him or you’ll have to let him walk away. I know that’s not something any of you want to do. You don’t want a murderer in your town. You don’t want to have to worry about your wives and daughters. You want him behind bars where he deserves to be. You want to make Great Falls feel safe again. That won’t happen until you catch him.”
“You make it sound so simple,” the older cops states flippantly.
“Clear your mind of everything you know. Focus only on what I’ve told you today. Don’t think about the case, think about the man.”
“It could be a handful of people.”
“I can think of at least three.”
“I have five names on my list.”
Everyone starts to speak at once, arguing over the possibilities of who it could be. It’s not until the chief clears his throat that all talking ceases.
“One last thing before I leave you with the profile,” I say, waving around the information I’ve printed out for them. A bulleted list of characteristics. “He will fit ninety-nine percent of what’s on here. Narrow your list down and then bring them in for questioning. You will know right away who it is. Then, find Sam’s apron and nail the bastard. It won’t be at his home or place of business. It’ll be stashed somewhere in town. Somewhere he visits often. A close friend or family member’s house. Hidden out of sight but easily accessible.
“Sam deserves justice. This town deserves to sleep with their doors unlocked again. Good luck, and if I can be of any further assistance, please don’t hesitate to reach out. Both the chief and Detective Crawford know how to reach me. Thank you.”
Every officer shakes my hand, thanking me for my help. As they leave the room one by one, Jay, Spence, and the chief approach. I pull the piece of notebook paper out of my back pocket and hand it to Spencer.
“He’s on this list. Let them narrow it down to only a few people before you show it to them,” I say, my voice sounding authoritative, Spencer’s lips curling to keep from laughing.
“Will do,” he answers with a salute before pulling me in for a hug so tight I expel all the breath in my lungs. “I’ll keep you posted and talk to you in a few days, okay?”
“Sounds good.”
“Thank you for taking the time,” the chief begins, surprising me. “I won’t deny I was skeptical, but after hearing what you had to say, I have a few ideas of who may be behind Sam’s death myself. I’ll be curious to see if any of them are on your list.”
“Listen to your gut. You’ve been doing this long enough. Instinct is a funny thing. If you have perspective, it’ll never steer you wrong. I hope I was able to shed some light on the case today.”
“You did. Thank you very much, Miss Morris.”
After shaking the chief’s hand, he steps passed me but not before clapping both Spencer and Jay on the shoulders bef
ore leaving the three of us alone.
“We should get going,” I start, pulling Spence in for another hug, not ready to say good-bye yet.
“We?” he questions. “Something y’all want to tell me before you ride off into the sunset together?”
“We’re not riding off together,” I say, smacking him on the chest as I pull away. “We rode together. Jay has to get on the road, and I have a plane to catch.”
“If that’s your story,” he notes with a wicked grin as he man-hugs Jay and winks at me.
For now, that’s the only story there is to tell. My hope is that the next time I see Spencer, the story will have developed a bit more. The beginning is solid. The middle was rocky. But the ending … that’s what I’m most interested in reading.
Chapter Twenty-One
After making a pit stop at Blush to say good-bye to Mia, and another stop at the Java Bean to see Summer, Jay and I head back to the Hideaway to say our own goodbyes.
We’ve been standing outside for ten minutes. Neither of us have said a word as Jay holds me close. His woodsy smell and the feel of his beating heart beneath my cheek are all I can focus on as I find the courage to push him away. He needs to get on the road, and with each passing minute it becomes harder to say good-bye.
A door slams behind me, breaking the bubble we’d put ourselves in.
When I push away, I see uncertainty in Jay’s eyes. It reflects the way I feel in my heart.
“I’ll call you as soon as my plane lands,” I state, averting my eyes to the cracked sidewalk beneath my feet.
“You were amazing in there. You gave them everything they need to find this guy.”
“Thanks.” My voice is barely audible as the single word catches in my throat.
“Drea,” Jay whispers, lifting my chin with his finger. “This is not good-bye.”
“It feels like it.”
“We survived five years apart. Years where we could have used each other to lean on. That time allowed us to grow as individuals, to figure out who we are and what we want from life. For me, it solidified the fact that I love you, I want to be with you. There is no one else on this Earth who will ever compare to you. You’re it for me. One day, you’ll see that everything I did, everything I sacrificed, it was all for you. So we could be together. Today. Tomorrow. Next year. You are my forever,” he finishes, cupping my face with his hands and sealing his words with a kiss.
A Moment Too Late Page 18
