I'll Never Let You Go (Morgans of Nashville)

by Mary Burton

  To hell with Philip.

  Brave words and a promise of one night with Charlie didn’t erase four years of fear and hiding. Suddenly, doubt elbowed past the newfound confidence, and she scrambled for second guesses.

  Instead of driving home, she drove to the counseling center. Maybe Sierra would be there.

  With Charlie in tow, she climbed the concrete stairs and entered the front door. The dog jumped and barked. She knelt to calm her. “You’re going to have to learn a few things about manners, Charlie. No barking.”

  The dog cocked her head and then licked Leah’s face.

  And in that moment, her heart was gone, taken by a dopey expression and a wet kiss.

  Footsteps sounded, and Leah looked up to see Sierra peeking out of an office door. “Leah, what’re you doing here?” She saw the dog and grinned. “And who’s this?”

  “This is my big mistake. Charlie.”

  Sierra watched Charlie lick Leah’s face. “Why’s this your big mistake?”

  Leah scrambled for reasons. “I’m not being fair to the dog.”

  Sierra knelt in front of Charlie and rubbed her between the ears. The dog fell to the ground and rolled to her back. “She’s sweet.”

  Leah held tight to the leash as she assembled logical reasons. “Caring is a very dangerous thing.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Caring led to a lot of pain and suffering the last time I really opened my heart.” Emotion tightened her throat. “And I’m terrified of making that kind of mistake again.”

  Sierra laughed when the dog’s tail thumped with pleasure. “This is a dog. Not a husband.”

  “I worked hard to build the brick wall around me. Real hard.” Fear caught her voice in her throat. “And now it’s crumbling around my feet. And I’m really afraid that Philip might be back.”

  Sierra kept her gaze on the dog. “Why do you think that?”

  “Someone sent me flowers and wished me happy anniversary. I had a flat tire the other day. My credit card got messed up.” She shook her head. “And a TBI agent thinks Philip might be alive.”

  A frown wrinkled Sierra’s brow as she scratched the dog between the ears again. “Does he have proof of that?”

  “Not yet. But I wouldn’t bet against it.”

  “Why?”

  “Apparently, the identification wasn’t as ironclad as I thought.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m not sure of anything, but the cops want to exhume his body. I signed a release form. They want to make sure the man in the grave is Philip.”

  Sierra rose, adjusting the bracelets on her wrist. “How do you feel about this?”

  “Terrified. And angry. I want answers.”

  A smile quirked her lips. “You sound like you want to face this head-on. That’s good. When are they going to do the exhumation?”

  “A judge has to sign the order. It could be days. Long after our anniversary.” She tipped her head back so that the blooming tears wouldn’t spill. As brave as she tried to sound, she was scared.

  Sierra twisted a silver ring on her index finger. “The cops could be wrong.”

  Leah shook her head. She didn’t need hard evidence to know the truth. “They think Philip might have killed Deidre.”

  “What?”

  “She was stabbed twenty-three times. Like me.”

  “Leah, why would he go after her?”

  “She knew Philip from before. They had some kind of connection.” She rubbed her palms together, the rough scars scraping against each other. For the better part of the day, her skin had itched and crawled, as if someone was standing over her shoulder. “He’s so clever.”

  Sierra didn’t say anything.

  “You and I both know cops can drop the ball. Men get released from prison, return to a city, and no one tells the victim. Mistakes are made in small localities. Easy to misidentify a badly burned body. Whatever the mistake, the stalker kills the victim and then everyone wonders how it all could have gone so wrong. I don’t want to be the one people talk about one day and say ‘If we’d only known.’”

  Sierra cleared her throat. “So you’re going to live in fear for the rest of your life?”

  The challenge irritated her. “I didn’t say that.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I want to live my life.”

  Sierra smiled. “You’ve got a dog. I bet this little lady will alert you if anyone gets close to your house.”

  Leah rubbed the dog on the head. “I haven’t decided whether I’m going to keep her.”

  “You might not have decided, but Charlie has.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Sunday, January 22, 5 A.M.

  Charlie had a surprisingly good night with Leah, making it all the way until five A.M. until she needed a walk. Leah pulled on sweats, a thick T-shirt, sheepskinned boots, and a heavy coat as Charlie barked. “I’m coming. I’m coming.”

  Her neighbor, a short woman with long, brown hair, waved. The woman owned a pug, but her name escaped Leah. She waved back. Charlie barked.

  As she walked the dog toward the corner, she noticed the police car parked across the street. It was there for her protection, but it was a reminder of Philip and the dangerous days ahead.

  After the walk, she was energized and ready for a morning run, but when she thought of leaving Charlie alone in her house while she ran, she considered the consequences. “A new dog alone in a town house is a recipe for chewed shoes,” she said as she cupped the dog’s face. “Or maybe I’ll find a shredded comforter.” The dog licked her face and wagged its tail.

  “I know you look all innocent now, but I trust you as far as I can throw you. We’re buying a crate today.”

  While Charlie chewed on a toy she’d scavenged from the clinic, Leah quickly showered and dressed. Breakfast was a toasted bagel while Charlie munched on dry food. By seven thirty the two were headed out the front door back to the clinic. Charlie, unaccustomed to walking on a leash, pulled her all the way across the lawn and, when they reached her car, circled her several times, wrapping the leash around her legs. Laughing, Leah unlocked the car and carefully unwound the leash. She picked up the dog and settled her on the front seat. Charlie barked, clearly excited about a ride in the car. Another patrolman waited across the street, and she knew this couldn’t go on forever. One day the protection detail would have to stop.

  As Leah drove toward work, the tension gripped and then ebbed each time she glanced at the dog. The pup looked up at her with trusting eyes, and a few more bricks vanished from the wall.

  When the two entered through the back entrance of the clinic, Gail laughed. “I almost sounded the alarm when I saw the black dog was gone, then decided to wait until you arrived.”

  Disappointment tugged. “Did the owner call?”

  “No.”

  She rubbed Charlie on the head. “His loss, my gain.”

  “I don’t hear disappointment in your voice.”

  “If he really wants her back, it’s not for me to stand in his way.”

  “Bull.”

  “What?”

  Gail laughed. “You’re not giving that dog up.”

  Leah shrugged. “I could if I had to.”

  Gail studied the dog, clearly happy to be at Leah’s side. “I suppose she’ll be the newest vet pet.”

  “I’ll keep up with her. I might need a bit of help if I’m in surgery.”

  “Doc Nelson brings in Spike. As long as they get along, we should be fine, and Spike’s a softy. We also have a spare crate and food to get you started.”

  She rubbed Charlie’s head. “Thanks.”

  “So why the change of heart? A few days ago, you were against a dog.”

  Not a dog. Bringing someone into her life and closer to harm. She was tired of being afraid. “We all evolve.”

  Charlie settled on the couch in the reception room, behind Gail, and Leah began her morning routine of seeing patients. The worries of the last coup
le of weeks eased, and it seemed as if the stresses melted. Here, she felt safe.

  Leah was doing a routine physical on a female pit bull when Gail poked her head in the exam room door. “Got a minute?”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  “Better come now. Your neighbor is on the phone.”

  Leah finished the injection with the dog and looked at the client. “I’ll be right back.”

  She hurried to reception and picked up the phone. “This is Leah.”

  “Leah, this is Julia.”

  “Julia?”

  “I live next door. You gave me advice about a sick pug right before Christmas. I waved to you this morning.”

  The woman’s face didn’t come to mind but she remembered the dog. “Right. Julia. What’s up?” She hesitated and then recalled the dog’s name. “Roscoe not feeling well again?”

  “He’s fine. I was just wondering. Are you moving?”

  “What? No, I’m not moving.”

  “I didn’t think so, but there’s a moving van in front of your town house. I told the guy you aren’t moving, but he has a signed work order to move out your furniture.”

  Leah imagined the floor wobbling under her feet. “What! I’m not moving.”

  “The movers are loading boxes as I speak.”

  Leah gripped the phone, leaning into the receiver as if it would convey more desperation. “Julia, do me a favor and call the cops. I’m headed home right now.”

  “Will do.”

  Leah explained the situation to Gail and then, grabbing her coat, hurried to her car. She drove home, running more than a couple of yellow lights. When she pulled up in front of her town house, a yellow Ace moving van was parked in her driveway. The back of the truck was open, the ramp lowered to the ground. Three large-muscled men stood in front of her door talking to two uniformed cops.

  Leah parked in front of the house and ran up to her door. “What’s going on here?”

  A tall uniformed officer broke away from the movers and came closer to her. “Are you Leah Carson?”

  “That’s Leah,” Julia said.

  The officer ignored her neighbor. “Are you Leah Carson?” “I am. What’s going on here?”

  “Do you have identification?”

  “This is my house!”

  “Ma’am, we need to be sure.”

  With trembling hands, she dug into her purse and fished out her wallet. She plucked out her newly minted Tennessee driver’s license with her Nashville address and handed it to him. He studied her name. “Would you mind waiting right here?”

  “Why?”

  “Just need to check out a few things.”

  She folded her arms over her chest, irritated that she had to go to such lengths to get people off her property. But as much as she wanted to rant and rail, logic called and told her to calm down. “Sure. Go ahead.”

  She glanced at her neighbor and the movers, who looked confused and annoyed. As the officer slid behind the wheel of his car with her license and typed into his computer, she looked at the movers. “Who sent you here?”

  The tallest, a dark-skinned man with broad shoulders and flecks of gray at his temples, said, “The work order came in two days ago.”

  “Who put in the work order?”

  “I don’t know. All I know is that we were supposed to pack the whole place up and move it.”

  “Move it where?” The tone of her voice spiked with anger and fear.

  He glanced at his work order. “A storage facility north of town. There’s a unit waiting to take the furniture into storage.”

  “Can I see your work order?”

  “Sure.” He lifted the clipboard at his side and pulled off the top sheet. “This is what I had in my assignment box last night.”

  She read over the order, keying in on the vital information. It was her name, address, even her phone number. Paid in full. Her gaze skipped to the last line. She wanted to know who had issued the order. The name was Leah Carson.

  She gripped the strap of her purse as if it were her lifeline. “This doesn’t make sense. I didn’t order this move.”

  He flipped through the pages and held up a paper with her name and the last four digits of her credit card number. “Your name is on the credit card receipt.”

  The order had been placed last week. Before the bank had shut down this account. “I didn’t order any of this!” she said, louder than she’d intended.

  She took the receipt, her stomach tightening with nausea. The bank hadn’t called her about this expense, but then, why would they? It was a local buy and not extravagant, and it had been made before they’d issued a new card. She’d have picked up on it when her credit card statement came in at the end of the month, but that would have been too late to stop today’s fiasco.

  A black SUV pulled up behind the police car, and she instantly recognized Alex Morgan as he got out. The folds of his overcoat caught in the wind, revealing his badge and gun as he strode toward her.

  She was glad to see him in an odd sort of way. The officer got out of his car and Alex spoke to him for several minutes. His gaze locked on Leah, and he strode toward her in long confident strides.

  “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

  His calm frustrated her. She wanted him to be upset and screaming. “I don’t know. I got a call from my neighbor asking me why I was moving.”

  “Why’re you moving?”

  “I’m not moving! I didn’t order this.” She held the now-crumpled work order in her fist. “My name is on the form, but I didn’t authorize it.”

  “She paid for it,” the mover said.

  “I didn’t pay for it willingly.” She looked at Alex.

  “Someone skimmed my credit card and used it for the purchase. This is so classic Philip!”

  Alex turned toward the officer. “I think we can establish that this is a mistake.”

  The officer nodded. “Sounds like it.”

  The lack of conviction in his voice irritated her, as if he was suggesting that she was lying. She glared at the officer as Alex stepped between them. He turned to the movers. “Whatever you took out, put it back.”

  “I got to call my boss.”

  “You can do that right after you put what you removed back.” Steel coated each syllable.

  The movers glanced at each other, then headed toward the back of the truck. They spent the next fifteen minutes moving boxes back into the house. Leah noticed most were marked KITCHEN.

  When her belongings had been put back in the house, she walked up to the mover. “I want the name of your supervisor.”

  He handed her a card and her house key.

  She studied the new key. “Where did you get this?”

  “Under the mat, just like you said.”

  “I don’t leave keys under the mat. Ever!”

  He sighed, not sure how to handle her. “Lady, it’s what I was told.”

  “Sure. Thanks.” She watched as he and his coworker got in the truck and drove off.

  Leah turned to her neighbor and tried to smile. “Julia, thank you for calling. I don’t know what I would have done if I came home and everything was gone.”

  Julia glanced from Leah to Alex. “Sure, Leah. Glad to help.”

  Leah watched her walk away, so tempted to call out and say, “I didn’t do this! I’m not crazy!”

  But she kept her silence, aware that when doubt had been sewn into another’s mind, shouting only reinforced it. She moved into her house to survey the damage. Most of the furniture was in place, but her pictures had been removed from the walls and wrapped in brown paper. Her kitchen had been stripped and packed away in the boxes that now stood in the center of the room. It would take her hours to unpack.

  The front door closed softly behind her. She turned to see Alex surveying the house.

  “I wasn’t moving,” she said.

  “I know.”

  God, how she wanted to believe it was a mistake. She wanted to ferret out a reason th
at would offer any explanation other than the actual one. Philip. “He’s playing with me.”

  “Why would he bother with this kind of game?”

  “Because he knows it will ruin my day. He’ll be all I think about. He had a knack for messing up my days with just a phone call or the click of a mouse.”

  He drew in a breath. “Have you seen any sign of him?”

  Hands on hips, she thumbed her index finger. “None. But that’s part of his thing. He never shows his face.”

  He tugged his cuffs down over his thick wrists. “Okay.”

  “He was always so good at messing with me. He could make me feel like I was going insane.” She raised fists to her temples and turned. “When I left him, he was furious. He stalked me for months.”

  “Tell me what happened the night he stabbed you.”

  The hard edge had softened. “You’ve read the reports.”

  “You tell me.”

  The story had been bottled up for years; she’d shared only bits and pieces with a very few people. “He broke into my apartment. When I woke up, he was standing in the corner of my room. I called nine-one-one, but we both knew I’d be dead before the cops arrived.” She shoved out a sigh, as if some poison had been trapped in her lungs. “After the first plunge of the knife, adrenaline exploded in me. I forgot about the pain. I assumed he would kill me, but I refused to go easy.”

  A weight lifted from her shoulders. Alex had dug into her past without asking, but as they stood there together, she sensed some of her burden had shifted to his shoulders. She liked Alex. Appreciated his intelligence. But she couldn’t say whether she fully trusted him. She nearly laughed. He was here, listening, and beggars couldn’t be choosers.

  “Anything else happen since we spoke?”

  “Someone abandoned a dog at the clinic.”

  “That happens, doesn’t it?”

  “This would be the kind of thing Philip would do. He’d give me something he knew I’d care about and then take it away so I’d suffer.”

  Alex stared at Leah’s flushed face and the unshed tears that glistened. She glanced at her hands twisting her thumb and index finger over an invisible wedding ring. “I was raised in a good home. I’m smart. I should’ve figured out this guy was trouble. But I missed all the warning signs.”