by Laura Gibson
“I’m just nervous.” Melody responded honestly.
“There’s no reason for it.” Anna cleared her throat, “He’ll forget about you. And he’ll forget about me and everything will go back to normal after the funeral.”
Melody swallowed, “I don’t want you to go.”
Anna looked at her finally, “But you need me to.”
“I don’t know if I can keep this secret.” Melody was whispering now, all of her fears getting the better of her. Wishing that Anna would just be Anna again and take charge of the situation. Selfish coward she may be, she was still a leader when no one else could be.
“You’re going to have to.” Anna’s tone hadn’t softened since the car and Melody felt the slap of her words, “If you don’t, he’ll kill you too.”
Melody nodded, “Everything you need is on the plane. I got it all together rather quickly.”
“If there’s anything you can count on a Jeffords for, it’s knowing how to make a quick exit.” Anna replied, finally mounting the steps to the plane.
Melody wasn’t sure what Anna meant by her words but she knew they were as close to a thank you as she was ever going to get. Even if they were back handed.
“Anna.” Melody could feel the tears brimming now, not from the fear of losing Anna, but for the fear of her own safety, “Anna, I’m scared.”
Anna looked down at the young girl and something crossed over her face, an emotion Melody had never seen on Anna before.
Quickly descending the steps, Anna wrapped her tall body around Melody’s in a tight embrace. She held her and Melody inhaled the soft perfume she’d put on. “Just don’t tell,” she whispered in Melody’s ear, “Not a word.”
Then Anna was releasing Melody and stepping away, as if the brief contact had burned her in some way. As if even showing that amount of emotion was too much for the albatross.
She ascended the stairs without looking back and Melody returned to the town car. They’d see each other one more time in the last remaining days of Melody’s life, but their conversation wouldn’t reveal anything that Melody didn’t already know.
Anna was a selfish coward and she was running away. But in doing so, she was saving everyone elses’ lives.
Epilogue
Charleston, West Virginia
June 26th, 2010
Rhett
He had seen her at the memorial. The one and only Rachel Gunn, the only woman with enough balls to stand against Casimir Volkov and halfway win. If only she knew what she was getting herself into. With a glance she had stripped Kelly away from the wolf’s side and with a kiss she had Jefferson swearing fealty to her. If only she knew how to play the game properly. She wasn’t aware of just how much power she held over people. Her controlled facial expressions, her eyes a mixture of simmering rage and control. But she didn’t think she was good for anything, otherwise it wouldn’t have taken her this long to return. Otherwise she would have never left.
At the simple age of sixteen, Rachel Gunn could have taken care of Casimir Volkov with one word and she had no idea.
He wondered what could have done that to such a perfect specimen of the human spirit. Who could have caged her and broken her in such a way that she doubted her own inner strength. Strength she used on a daily basis to tell herself she wasn’t worth anything else or worth much.
Rhett stared at her from across the coffee shop and watched her talk to the Williams boy like she owned him. Her blue eyes were sharper than he thought they would be, almost as if they were willing Jefferson Williams to bleed from across the table. Her hair was the color of gold and more than once Rhett had to swallow, remind himself that she wasn’t anything like that to him.
She was the woman that sent him a letter one time, letting him know that it still might not be too late to catch Juliet’s killer. Killers? Rhett knew Kelly Hill was in a holding cell downtown, waiting for what would happen to him. Waiting on what Rachel would come up with.
Watching her, Rhett could see Rachel Gunn had grace and poise, but she might be nothing more than a smooth talker. If she wasn’t willing to share her information with him then he had nothing. And knowing there was something was a lot worse than being left in the dark for so long without anything.
One the men with her gave him a sideways look, one that told him to stay away and Rhett cracked a smile. That must be the overprotective older brother. He had seen the type a thousands times. Hell, he had been the type. Rhett gave Ethan Gunn a smile and tried to make it look like he was reading his book.
He had heard Casimir Volkov was back in town and now everyone was gathering for the memorial. It was almost too perfect. Like everything had been orchestrated for just this one moment in time.
Rachel
With the meeting with Jefferson over and out of the way, Rachel felt the need to get away for a few hours. Her limbs wouldn’t stop shaking and the sour taste of bile had taken up residence in the back of her throat.
It was a beautiful day outside and Rachel tried desperately to enjoy it. But all she could feel was the impending dread in the pit of her stomach, knowing that Kelly was going to be free and Casimir would be waiting for him.
Everything that Jefferson had told her was true, unfortunately. Rachel wanted to think Jefferson was lying, but his eyes were too dead to really be relating anything less than the honest to God truth of the matter.
Instinctively, Rachel found herself walking down a sunlit path connected to Phillips’ main building. She knew where she was headed, and although she had no desire to be there, she couldn’t stop herself. It was compulsory and unavoidable.
“Rachel Gunn?” A deep voice called out. One she didn’t recognize, sending mixed emotions spiraling through her body.
She stopped and turned on a heel slowly, trying to steady her breathing, trying to make it look like she was in total control. Ethan and Logan had been right after all, she shouldn’t go anywhere alone. But when had Rachel ever listened to anyone else? She was her only counsel and nothing would change that.
The man smiled at her with bright blue eyes. He looked nice enough, put together with dress slacks, a button up shirt and a matching vest. His hair was a reddish color and Rachel thought it looked nice with his clothes and his complexion. He was an attractive enough person, if only in this lighting.
She did a once over of his person and noted no gun present. If he belonged to Casimir, he was here just to jar her, not to do her harm. Unless he killed her with his bare hands. Rachel swallowed, looking at his arms and the muscles housed underneath his shirt. He could, if he wanted to.
“I am.” She finally answered, knowing it had taken her a long time to get any words out.
“Hi.” He was still smiling, still trying to look warm, inviting, “I’m Detective Rhett Samuels. I believe you wrote me a letter.”
Rachel’s heart stopped in her chest as she sucked air in through surprised lips. Rachel stared at the man who called himself Rhett Samuels. He was taller than she expected. And slimmer.
When he looked at her, he made sure he looked right at her, not right through her. Not how Jefferson, or even Kelly looked at Rachel, but right directly at her, as if she were the only person in existence.
His lips dropped to a half smile, “I take it that I’m not what you expected.”
“Not exactly.” Rachel didn’t know what she was feeling now, but it certainly wasn’t a familiar emotion. Her heart had started beating again and she was breathing quite normally, but something was different. In this moment, everything had changed.
“What about me is different?” Rhett walked towards her, his arms crossed over his chest.
“I was picturing a pot bellied desk clerk.” Rachel shook her head, the words just tumbling out of her mouth.
Rhett frowned although his blue eyes still sparkled in the midday sun, “Pot bellied desk clerk?”
Rachel almost blushed, now that he was standing in front of her she couldn’t fully understand why she ever envisioned him any
other way. This was who he had always been. Even in Jefferson’s story, he was something else. Alive. He was alive.
“How can I help you, detective?” Rachel breathed out, trying to regain some part of her self-control.
“I need to ask you some questions about Kelly Hill.” The detective’s eyes seemed to lose some of their mischief as he brought the proper subject to the foreground.
Slowly Rachel nodded. She knew, of course, he would want to talk about it. She had, after all, sent him a rather lengthy letter complete with pictures and everything else he needed to pin the murder of Caleb Bronen on Jefferson Williams. Why wouldn’t he want to do his job? Why would it matter to him that she had just discovered his own scars left over from the war with Casimir?
The wind picked up a strand of her hair and brought it around to her face, obscuring her view of the detective. “What do you need to know?”
“Why you?” Rhett stepped forward, as if they were supposed to be closer than strangers.
“I don’t know what you mean.” Rachel frowned, tucking the hair behind her ear, staring at him, feeling the same as before.
“Why did Kelly pick you as his obsession?”
Sneak Peek!
Lia
Book Three of The Kelly Hill Series
Twilight had arrived by the time he’d found his way back to her and the two of them shared their last communion.
The two figures stood on the dock, one, incredibly thin and far too tall for his own good, leaned against the wooden railing, the fire from a match illuminating his gaunt face despite the increasing dark.
"Why'd you take up smoking?" The other asked. In contrast to her partner she was of a shorter stature and stood with less 'devil may care' attitude. Her hair was short against her skull, and her clothes were very reminiscent of the punk movement. But there was something in her eyes- an almost feverish look of confidence that gave away her true intentions.
He shrugged off the question, "He always made it look important."
The girl gave a slight nod, "It was a tactic in avoidance."
"But it looked important." He defended his statement.
"But it wasn't." She rested her hands on the railing and faced the open sea, with a sigh she changed the subject, "I don't know if I'm ready for tomorrow."
"It'll come with or without you." He took a longer drag, hollowing his already empty cheeks.
"I'm not going to miss you." She stated, yet her tone rang of a melody that sounded like regret.
"No one ever has before." One more shrug. One more drag. One more movement to pass the time ending between them.
"I can't stay here forever." She continued, as if the words would make a difference between them.
"Only Lia's leaving." He whispered, nudging her with his elbow, "You're already dead, remember?"
She looked at him, her blue eyes sad, their tragic expression mixing with the sounds of the waves, "And what about you? What about the all important Jefferson Williams?"
"I'm not afraid to die." Jefferson looked at her, the stern hawk expression easy to read, “I’m ready for whatever may come.”
