by Taylor Dean
It’s a happy moment, filled with heartfelt tears and hugs all around. I feel as though it’s a turn-around moment for our families. We’ve endured losing our fathers, Stony’s leg injury, the fire and Stony’s burns, Mia being sent to jail, Jace never coming home, and Irene’s cancer. It’s high time we had some happiness for a change. It’s long overdue.
After a long while of happy chatter, Spencer asks, “Are we ready to go?” Sophie is in her arms, looking adorable in a pink and grey dress along with a grey knit hat. That baby is always the height of fashion. Brit has always looked darn cute in her clothes, but Sophie’s clothes are a few steps above, verging on haute couture. Stony and Spencer are having way too much fun with their little lady. The Instagram pictures are endless. I think it’s safe to say that they are in love with their baby and I’m happy for them. I’ll have to get Spencer to take me shopping with her the next time I buy clothes for Brit. She has a talent for knowing what will look good.
Blake is about to take Irene home as she is not up to the trip. But before she goes, she takes my hands in hers and says, “I’m so happy to have you as my daughter, dear Shay. I always hoped you and Jace would marry one day. I’m so glad you’ve worked things out. He’s a happy man because of you. My kids are my babies and they always will be. Even when they’re grown up, they’re still my babies. When my kids are happy, I’m happy. That’s how it works.”
I’m touched by her sweet words and hug her gently.
Stony insists that Mom go with him in his truck and Brit begs to go with them so she can sit by Sophie.
That leaves me and Jace in our own car, giving me the chance to broach the subject of the picture. We drive off, following behind Stony.
“So, what’s this surprise Stony has for Caroline?”
“I’m in the dark. He hasn’t said a word to me about it. I’m not sure what he’s up to. My curiosity is definitely stoked.”
Jace reaches out and holds my hand. “Happy?”
“Yes. I’ll be even happier next week.”
“Yeah. Me too. I’m really looking forward to our Alaskan cruise.”
“Translation: honeymoon.”
“You know it, baby.”
What can I say? I’m looking forward to it too.
This is the perfect time to tell him. I don’t want secrets between us and what I’ve done is weighing on me. I can’t face our wedding without having this discussion first.
“Jace, I have something I need to tell you.”
At my serious tone, the car slows down a little and we lose sight of Stony’s truck.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yes. But I did something that I’m worried will upset you.”
“What is it?”
Spit it out, Shay. Marriage is about communication and we need to start out on the right foot. “I did a little research on how to describe facial features. Then I commissioned a local artist to make a sketch for me. Or I should say . . . for you actually.”
At his dead silence, I turn and look at him. He’s staring straight forward and his jaw is rigid. His fingers are gripping the steering wheel tightly.
“And?” he says.
“It’s nearly the exact image of her.”
All at once, he pulls over and stops the car. He just sits there for a few moments and I fear that I’ve made him very angry. I hate the feeling. It reminds me of Asher and the way he used his emotions to get what he wanted.
Jace turns in his seat and faces me, taking my hands in his. “I understand your motivation and I know you’re just trying to help.”
Once again, I’m reminded that Jace is not Asher. Relief washes through me. I love this man.
“To be perfectly honest, I don’t want to see it. I just can’t see the point.”
I love that he’s understanding even when he’s upset and I love that he remains so calm. I’m getting it right this time around. I feel like an equal partner when I’m with Jace. “The point is that we can identify her.”
“I don’t see how that will help. The time has passed.”
“I’ve been thinking it over. What if we hire a private investigator? With the help of the sketch, maybe he can find her.”
“And then what?”
“He could follow her. See what she’s up to.”
“Up to?”
I take a deep breath and tell him what I’ve learned as I’ve done my homework on this subject. “Most of the perpetrators who commit this type of crime are not one-time offenders. More often than not, it’s a serial crime. Some researchers say it becomes a compulsion and they repeat the crime with astonishing frequency. Almost all have a very high likelihood of reoffending. Maybe we can’t get her for what she did to you, but we can get her for doing it to someone else.”
I notice the way his jaw muscles tighten and relax as he grits his teeth. “You’ve been doing your research.”
“If you don’t want me to do this, I won’t. It’s your call, Jace. But it’s a chance—and I know it’s a long shot—but it’s still a chance to see justice for you.”
He sits statue-like, deep in thought. Then his eyes find mine. “Okay. Let’s do it.” He runs a hand over his face. “I know I’ve been resistant. Having you as an eye witness and having a picture of her are huge developments. I can’t sit back and ignore them.”
“Agreed. Whatever happens, we’re in this together.”
He nods his head. “Shay, keep in mind, my life is complete. I have you and I feel whole again. Please don’t lose sight of that.”
“I won’t. We put us first from here on out.”
He grins. “All for one and one for all.”
At last, his humor makes a bit of an appearance. “Yeah, that. I have the persistence and you have the tenacity.”
He mutters under his breath, “It’s like, together we make a whole person.”
I laugh as he puts the car in gear and we get back on the road.
“Thank you, Shay,” he says quietly.
“For what?”
“For being on my side and fighting for me. Now . . . do you know where the heck we’re going?”
I let the breeze blow in my face and thank my lucky stars that Jace is back in my life. “No, I’m sure they’ll be waiting for us outside of Stony’s place though.”
Sure enough, they are. When they notice us behind them, Stony continues to drive down the road next to his house.
“Oh my gosh,” I say as something dawns on me.
“What? What is it?”
“I think I know where we’re going. There’s only one thing this road leads to.”
“What?”
“The house we lived in when I was little, before we moved to Sweetwater. Stony bought a portion of the land my father used to own and our old house is on it.”
After a few minutes, the old farmhouse comes into view. We turn down a gravel road and are heading right for it.
The house is absolutely charming and even though I’m only seeing the outside, I can see that it has been fully renovated. I feel tears well in my eyes. I watch as Mom exits Stony’s truck and she can hardly control herself. She’s bawling like a baby. She hugs Stony tightly, then he hands her a set of keys. They head for the door, excited to go in. Stony motions for me to come too as Spencer takes Sophie and Brit inside.
I place one hand on the car door, but I can’t bring myself to move. “I can’t believe it. Stony renovated our old house for Mom.”
“He sure did. It looks incredible. Shall we go in?”
“Yeah, I just need a minute to compose myself. A lot of changes are coming our way and it’s hitting me all at once. Mom’s gonna want to move out here. It’s perfect timing, really. We’re getting married and Brit and I will be leaving her. Now she’ll be close to Stony and Spencer. They’ll keep her company and take good care of her. It’s only about a ten minute walk to their home.”
Jace sighs. “The Randall’s and the Faraday’s won’t live across the street from each other anymore. That
’s sad.”
I let that ruminate. Jace and I have been doing a little house hunting, not super seriously. He really can’t leave his mother quite yet and we’ve been debating how to handle our household situation until Irene is ready to be on her own.
“If Mom moves out here, then she’ll sell her house in Sweetwater. What if . . .”
“. . . we buy it?” Jace finishes for me.
I love that we’re on the same wavelength. “Yeah. Our family home in Sweetwater will stay in the family and we’ll be close to your mom for whenever she needs us.”
We look at each other as the idea sinks in.
Jace shrugs. “It’s the perfect solution.”
“We can renovate. Mom’s house needs a lot of updating, but she’s kept it up. It’s in excellent condition.”
“I think I know someone who could do the renovating too. I have it on good authority that he’s pretty incredible at it.”
I bite my lip. “We’d own a Stony Randall home and be the talk of the town.”
Jace laughs aloud. “C’mon, let’s go talk business.”
CHAPTER
Fifteen
“I HATE THIS part. Every single time I see it I want to yell at the screen, ‘Don’t pull out the modern day penny!’ He still does it each and every time.”
“How dare he not listen to you.” My head is resting on Jace’s chest and I hear him rumble with slow and easy laughter.
We’re cuddled up on the couch at Mom’s house watching one of my favorite movies, Somewhere in Time. He agreed to sit and watch it with me if I watch one of his favorites tomorrow night. I figured I’d be glassy-eyed watching an X-Men movie or some type of shoot-em-up about this time next evening. Then Jace announced that he’d like to watch Say Anything, the movie with the iconic boom box scene he’s always joking about. That took me by surprise. I’ve known Jace for what feels like forever and yet there are still things I’m learning about him. He’s complex and interesting. Life will never be boring with him.
As the movie ends, we’re both quiet, lost in our own thoughts and absorbing the movie’s unusual conclusion.
“Is that a sad or a happy ending?” Jace asks. “I can’t tell.” The tone of his voice tells me he’s teasing me.
“I guess it’s both.” Our wedding is only a few days away and I suppose you could say we’re both walking on sunshine as we await the big moment.
The soulful strains of Rachmaninoff begin to waft through the living room as the credits roll across the screen and Jace says, “Dance with me, Shay.”
“Okay.”
We get up and wrap our arms around each other as we slowly sway to the music.
“Beautiful music,” Jace whispers in my ear.
“I feel instantly calm every time I hear it.”
“I can see why.” He leans down and places soft kisses along my neck. “Do you realize we are home right now?”
“Yes, because as long as I’m with you, I’m home.”
“Hmmmm . . . that too. But I tell you what, I can’t wait to make this home ours. I’m ready to tear down a few walls and rip out the kitchen.”
“Quit talking dirty to me.”
“Oh, there’s more where that came from. Let’s put in hardwood floors, new baseboards, all new doors, and are you ready for this? All new . . . doorknobs.”
“Yep, that’s my love language.”
We laugh at our silly banter and Jace kisses me softly. When he pulls away, he says hesitantly, “So, uh . . . is the investigation underway?”
He asks casually, but I hear the tension in his voice. “No, not yet. With the wedding plans, I have a lot to do. I figured it could wait until after our honeymoon.”
“I’m happy with that. I don’t want to give it a second thought while we’re honeymooning.”
“I’ll handle it, Jace. You don’t need to worry about it. It could get expensive, though, just so you know.”
“I’m not worried about money. After my . . . experience, for lack of a better word, I moved back into a roommate situation. Even when I started working, I stayed in the same place. I lived like a starving college student while I was earning a decent paycheck. I have a healthy savings account.”
“Okay. I’ll keep you informed, but if you don’t want to, you don’t even need to think about it.”
He holds me close and one hand runs through my hair. “Actually, I can’t stop thinking about it. I feel like I’ve left that part of my life unfinished.”
I remain quiet. Secretly, I was hoping he’d find the desire to fight deep inside of him. It’s a humiliating event and I understand his reticence. If it happened to me, I honestly can’t say how I would react. I don’t know how it feels to be placed in that situation. I can’t even promise that I’d fight. I might clam up and keep it a secret, just as Jace has. Actually, I know an experience like that would utterly devastate me and leave me a puddle on the floor. Kudos to the people who survive it, come forward, and report it. They are fighters. They are heroes and remind the world that human decency still exists and will continue to exist as long as we fight for it.
“I . . . I’ve been thinking about it. And I think I want to take a look at the picture. I think . . . this is something I have to face.”
I stop dead in my tracks as the music swirls around us. I take a step back and face him. Jace’s chest moves up and down with exaggerated breaths as he looks into my eyes. I know this is hard for him.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’ve decided this is something I have to do.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve pressured you.”
He shakes his head in the negative. “No, I don’t feel that way at all. I feel as though I have someone in my corner who will fight to the death for me.”
“I will, Jace. I will.”
He kisses me, softly and sweetly. He holds it for longer than I expect and I just go with it. His very presence holds me captive and I choose to succumb to him. It’s an intoxicating feeling. I’m pretty sure my marshmallow heart is completely melted. The big black monster has died as well. My melted marshmallow heart suffocated him.
After our kiss, I say, “Do you want to look at it . . . now?”
I see the anxiety wash over his features. And I also see the steel-like determination that takes over and chases it away. “Yes, all right.”
“Okay. It’s upstairs. Do you want to come up?”
He nods his head in the affirmative. We walk up the stairs, hand in hand, trying to be as quiet as possible. Brit is sound asleep and Mom went to bed hours ago as well. She goes to bed earlier and earlier lately. I think she’s starting to slow down a bit and I’m having a hard time accepting it. I know it’s hard to see your parents grow old and fade, but no one ever told me it’s like seeing a light that’s slowly being extinguished. She’s taken care of me all my life and soon it will be my turn to take care of her. She’s fine and she’s in good health, but I notice the small changes and I agonize over them.
I take Jace to my room and I close the door behind us. I walk to my desk and pull out the folder with the picture in it. “Here it is.”
He’s standing in the middle of my room, looking too big for the space. I hand it to him and he doesn’t look at it as he takes it in his hands.
“Do you want privacy?” I ask, shifting from foot to foot. The room feels heavy with anticipation.
“No, please stay with me.”
I stand across from him, simply watching. He opens the folder and slowly looks down at the sketch.
He doesn’t react. He’s completely still as he stares at the image. Five seconds pass, then ten, then twenty. After a full minute, his eyes move up to mine, but his head remains lowered, giving him an intense look.
“Are you absolutely positive this is the woman you saw?”
“No doubt in my mind whatsoever. That’s her.”
He looks down again, then looks back up at me.
“I know her.”
“What?” I thought he wou
ld be the one to be stunned by the sight of his assailant. Instead, he has stunned me.
“I know her.”
“Are you sure?”
“I know her,” he says again and I realize he’s just as stunned as me. He turns and sits in the chair by my window. He doesn’t so much as sit as collapse.
“Who . . . who is she?”
“Her name is Rebecca Blair and she is a paralegal at my former law firm.”
“You work with her?”
“I did. Not anymore.”
My mind whirls with this news. “But . . . when you were drugged, you weren’t even a lawyer yet.”
“No, I wasn’t. I was getting ready to start law school.”
Silence encompasses the room as both of our minds are working on overdrive.
“So . . . was she already working when you started working at your law firm?”
“That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?”
“Was she?”
“No, she wasn’t. She was employed by the law firm about six months after I got the job.”
“What does that mean?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. It could just be a coincidence.”
“Or she could be stalking you,” I tell him.
“I knew the possibility existed that I knew the person who did this to me, but, to be honest, I didn’t expect it to be the case.” He gets to his feet, closes the folder, and places it on my desk. I doubt he’ll ever look at it again. I don’t blame him.
“She’s always been kind of flirty,” he says. “In my mind, I always labeled her friendly and kept her in that compartment. She always sent me funny emails from clients with major grammatical mistakes in them and we’d laugh about them. She’d bring me Starbucks at least once a week and leave it on my desk.” He scoffs and says under his breath, “I actually accepted drinks from her. Not once or twice. Several times.” He turns away from me as he lets that sink in for a moment. “On several occasions, she asked if I wanted to grab a bite to eat with her. I always declined, mostly because I was too busy. I think I always knew she was open to something between us, I just pretended as though I didn’t notice. I wasn’t interested in dating, not her or anyone else.” He holds one hand to his forehead and breathes out heavily. “The thing is, I thought she was a friend. I mean, I considered her a friend, someone I could trust. I can’t believe it, I just can’t believe it.” He shakes his head. “She confided in me once that she doesn’t date much due to a lack of trust in men. Her former fiancé left her at the altar—and when I say altar, I mean literally. She was standing at the front of the church waiting for him to arrive. He never did. He humiliated her in front of her friends and family.”
