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

by Mary Burton

  She worried about what to do with Charlie, but after an early morning walk, she decided the dog would be safer in the crate she’d put together in the living room. She lined the crate with one of her blankets and put a chew toy inside before scooting the dog inside.

  To Leah’s relief, Charlie settled down in her crate and began to chew on her toy. She left and made the fifteen-minute trip to the park where the group was meeting today. She was glad to see the collection of cars that lined the parking spaces. However, a wave of disappointment washed over her when she didn’t see Alex’s SUV. You would pick today not to show, Agent Morgan. Now I’ll have to hunt you down.

  She grabbed her knit hat, pulled it over her ears, and got out of her car. Most mornings she hated these first few minutes. Hated the cold. Hated the tension in her muscles. Today she welcomed it all.

  She stretched as the other runners got out of their cars and made their way to the open field that led to the woodland path. She checked her watch, set her timer, and glanced around the field. No place for anyone to hide. Good.

  As she was about to start her run, the black SUV pulled up next to her car. About time, Morgan.

  Feeling the weight on her shoulders ease again, she began to run slowly. The other runners passed her easily, but she didn’t mind. After a poor night of sleep, it felt good to move, to breathe full, deep breaths.

  The steady thud of footsteps sounded behind her, but she didn’t glance back, knowing it was Alex. He came up beside her. She was already breathing hard. He looked almost bored with the pace.

  “You doing okay today?”

  “I’m hanging in there. I had the locks on my house changed.”

  “Smart. You might think about an alarm system.”

  “It’s crossed my mind.” More money. More expense. The vacation she’d considered taking in the fall was slowly moving out of financial reach.

  “I want to talk to you after practice.”

  “Good.” He matched her pace.

  “You don’t have to babysit me.” The words puffed out of her as she struggled to talk and run at the same time.

  “I’m happy to take it easy today.” He had barely broken a sweat.

  “Don’t patronize me, Alex. Run.”

  “You’re willing to go the route alone.”

  “I’ll be fine. Anniversary isn’t for two more days.” Bravado aside, she was afraid, but she wasn’t going to let it ruin the lives of the people around her.

  He nodded, as if accepting she needed to do this. “I’ll be waiting at your car.”

  Breathless, she held up a thumb and watched as he easily picked up his pace, his long legs eating up the space as he overtook the other runners. She soon lost sight of him and the others as they dashed down the path.

  Workouts could be hard because the exertion chased away the day’s thoughts and made room for memories.

  Together always, Leah, Philip whispered against her ear.

  Leah missed a step and nearly stumbled as she rounded the last corner. “Get out of my head,” she whispered.

  She increased her pace, pushing her muscles and her lungs, which stung from the cold, beyond what she’d managed since she started the group. The trees thickened around her, and once or twice she imagined the snap of a twig and the rustle of branches. Her breathing grew more rapid, but she kept running, fisting fingernails into the scars on her palm.

  When she finished, she checked her time and realized it was her fastest to date. The small victory offered a measure of satisfaction.

  Alex waited by her car, two water bottles in his hand. He handed her one as she approached. “Great run. Where’re the demons that are chasing you?”

  She accepted the water. “It’s the same every day, only today they were nipping at my heels. Did you find out anything from the florist? Get a name?”

  “Ever heard of Brian Lawrence?”

  “No.”

  “We’re tracking him down. The man who bought the flowers used that name.”

  “Philip isn’t going to announce himself until he’s ready.”

  “We need to talk about what happened to you.”

  “It’s more than a five-minute conversation.” She sipped her water. “I brought my journal from the last six months. It chronicles anything out of the ordinary.”

  “Really?”

  “I’m very detailed. And I do see now that I’ve been obsessed. I know I appear crazy.”

  He studied her. “I’ll swing by your town house in a couple of hours and you can show me the journal.”

  “Let’s meet at a neutral place. A coffee shop. Somewhere public. No listening devices.”

  “You think your house is bugged?”

  “I’ve searched it, haven’t found anything, but there are so many hiding places. Until this is over, I’m assuming it is.” She ran a hand over her head. “I know, sounds crazy.”

  His frown deepened as he thought about the device in Deidre’s house. “The TBI offices are safe.”

  “Okay.”

  “Ten o’clock?”

  She twisted off the top of the water bottle and then refastened it. “Sure.”

  In her car, she turned on the heat, put the water bottle in the drink holder, and drove home. The closer she got, the tenser she became. Until yesterday, it had been a sanctuary. A place away from work and her past. All her own. But yesterday, someone had violated that space. She’d changed the locks, but it was no longer a sanctuary.

  Inside the front door, Charlie barked in her crate, jumping up and down. Smiling, Leah let the dog out, fastened her leash, and walked her around the neighborhood. Though she did her best to focus only on the dog and the crisp sky, her gaze roamed constantly for anything out of the ordinary. Cars. People. Nothing jumped out at her, but her nerves remained tied in knots.

  Once Charlie had worked out her energy, Leah returned home to shower and dressed for her meeting with Alex. She took time with her hair and makeup, just as she had when things had been so bad with Philip. She’d always thought if she looked pulled together, maybe she could pretend everything would be fine.

  Charlie got another walk before she crated her and gave her a chew toy. The dog settled onto her blanket, wagging her tail as Leah promised to be back soon.

  The drive to the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation took twenty minutes. The closer she got, the tighter her nerves twisted. What had happened yesterday couldn’t be passed off as a fluke or forgetfulness. Philip was stalking her.

  The journal in hand, she hurried through the cold toward the large front doors. Inside, a rush of warm air greeted her as she moved toward the security station. She leaned toward an intercom centered on the glass partition separating her from the guard. “I’m Leah Carson. I’m here to see Agent Alex Morgan.”

  An older man with a receding hairline and large reading glasses studied her for a beat. “He’s expecting you?”

  “Yes.”

  With a nod, the guard picked up his phone, dialed, and announced her before hanging up. “He’ll be right here.”

  “Thanks.”

  She turned away, wishing like hell she didn’t have to do this. One stupid mistake in her life and it seemed fate still expected her to pay more. “When is it going to be enough?”

  “Excuse me?”

  She glanced at the guard, realizing she’d spoken aloud. “Nothing. Sorry.”

  Minutes later, a side door opened and Alex appeared. As always, he wore a dark suit, a white shirt, and a red tie, and his shoes were polished. Always buttoned down, always on guard. If she felt more comfortable with him, she’d joke about being so pulled together. During his runs, he barely seemed to sweat, and if this had been a different time or place, she’d have joked about his lack of sweat glands.

  “Right on time.” His gaze flickered over her briefly, taking inventory. A flicker of appreciation warmed his gaze.

  “No sense delaying the inevitable.”

  “You sound like you’re heading to a firing squad.” />
  “It feels like it.”

  The glint in his gaze softened just a little. “Come on up to my office.” He reached for her journal. “Would you like me to carry it?”

  “No, I have it. I’ve made it this far; I can make it the rest of the way.” She’d been shouldering this burden for over four years, and now releasing it would almost feel awkward. How would she live her life if she weren’t worrying?

  In the elevator, she was aware of the smallness of the space. When the doors opened, she followed him down a carpeted hallway. Conversations buzzed behind cubicle walls as the fluorescent lights hummed overhead.

  Alex opened the door to a conference room and flipped on the lights. “Can I get you coffee?”

  She would have loved a cup but feared, given her nerves, she’d spill it. “No. No, I’m fine.”

  He pulled out a chair for her at the long oak table and watched as she carefully placed her journal on it. She shrugged off her coat, laid it on the chair beside her, and took a seat.

  Alex pulled out a chair across from her, adjusted his tie, and waited.

  She put a hand on the thick journal. “I told you I kept a journal.”

  He arched a brow. “That’s the journal?”

  Color flushed her cheeks as she raised her gaze to his. “Might as well see just how crazy I am.”

  “I don’t think you’re crazy.”

  His words did little to ease the tension banding her chest. “This kind of journaling is crazy.”

  “Not necessarily.” A smile quirked his lips. “I appreciate attention to detail.”

  That jostled a laugh. “I take it to a whole new level.”

  “What happened?”

  Slowing her breathing calmed her nerves just enough. “Seven years ago, I met a man while I was in college. My father had just died and . . . well, when Philip came into my life, he felt like the steadying influence I was craving.” Her throat tightened. “My dad and I were close, and when I lost him . . . it was hard.”

  Alex’s expression softened with empathy. However, he didn’t say a word.

  “We got closer and closer, and he just kind of took over my life. He asked me to marry him. I shouldn’t have said yes. I should have broken it off then, but I was afraid of being alone. My mother was opposed to it, but I thought I knew what I wanted. We got married in a simple ceremony a few days later. It never felt okay. He had a way of making me feel as if I failed him. When I was accepted in vet school, I knew I’d have to move to Knoxville, and I was glad for the break from him. I imagined I’d commute home on the weekends. Philip hated the idea. I didn’t really have the money for the first year, so I had to defer my entrance. He was thrilled. I wasn’t. I worked as many hours as I could to save for school, and the closer I got to leaving, the meaner he got.”

  “How much worse did it get?”

  “A lot worse. He started hitting me.” Her belly twisted with shame and guilt. “And I took it for a while because he’d be so sorry afterward.” She shook her head. “My story is a million years old and has been replayed countless times.” She smoothed her hand over the journal. “I finally left and got my own apartment. That’s when he started following me. Everywhere I was, so was he. I couldn’t do anything without Philip watching.

  “I filled out a restraining order, which he never honored at all. The cops told me to keep a record of what he was doing so they could consider stalking charges. That’s when I started keeping the journal.”

  “How many pages are in there?”

  A bitter smile twisted her lips. “I’ve never been able to stop journaling.”

  “How many?”

  “Hundreds.”

  He absorbed the detail with no judgment. “And Latimer fled Nashville after your attack and died just weeks later.”

  “Yeah, very convenient. He was able to escape my apartment through the window and missed the cops by seconds.” She unfurled her hand to reveal the scars. “You were right to know these were defensive wounds.”

  Alex tipped his head back, seeming to struggle with emotions foreign to him.

  “He broke into my apartment and stabbed me. The cops arrived just in time. He ran, thinking I would die.”

  “But you hung in there.”

  “The emergency room doctors said if it had been another five minutes I would have died.”

  His jaw tightened and a muscle pulsed in his cheek. “And you haven’t had any sign that he’s alive?”

  “Nothing.”

  He traced a long finger over a black journal. “Why have you kept the journal?”

  “PTSD, I think. It’s my way of coping. If I can look at the day’s events, or even events from weeks or months back, and see no patterns of trouble, I feel okay.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”

  “It never occurred to me that Philip might be alive, or that Deidre knew Philip. It never occurred to me that my past might be linked to her death.”

  He drummed his fingertips on the table. “I still have no solid link between Deidre and Philip. They worked together, yes, but I can’t prove they ever communicated.”

  “How did she land on your radar?”

  “Money went missing from evidence in the Nashville Police Department. My brother asked me to look into it. Her name popped up almost immediately. And then we found one of Deidre’s old business cards near the body of a murdered man.”

  “Who was killed?”

  “We still haven’t identified him. The killer chopped off his hands, feet, and head and set fire to the body.”

  She grimaced.

  “My plan was to interview Deidre about the body, but she died.” He leaned back in his chair. “There was a listening device in her town house. We’re not sure who put it there.”

  “Why aren’t you sure?”

  “The purchase was charged to Deidre’s credit card.”

  “Why would she want a listening device?”

  “I don’t know.” He drummed his fingers on the table again. “When did you notice things were off?”

  “A month ago, I had that nightmare. I dreamt someone was in my house and I woke up screaming. That’s when my neighbors called the cops.”

  “I saw the report.”

  “A false alarm.” She held out a trembling hand. “I never spotted Philip or anyone who resembled him, but I’ve had a sense I was being watched. Of course that’s what Philip wants. He wants me afraid all the time. He can control me without trying.”

  “He’s not in control.”

  “I wish I could believe that. But I know how life can spin out of control fast, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”

  “Leah, I’ve got this. I’m going to find him.”

  “How? If he’s still alive, he’s been avoiding arrest for four years. He’s clever.”

  Unspoken confidence radiated from him. “That’s before I got involved. I’ll find him.”

  “You make it sound easy.”

  “Not easy, but he’ll slip up.”

  “How?”

  “I’ll make some calls, see if he’s popped up on any databases in the last few years. Is there anyone you could stay with in Nashville?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m on my own here. But . . .” She closed her eyes, gathering her worries. “I can stay at my house alone. I changed the locks, and I got a dog.”

  “A dog?”

  “She’s a puppy. Not scary, but she makes a lot of noise.”

  “Sounds terrifying.”

  She smiled. “Very.”

  “Let me look into this, Leah. I’ll put the pieces together. One way or the other, I’ll find him.”

  She smoothed her hands over the journal. “Do you want me to leave this with you?”

  “Yes. Let me read through it. Fresh eyes can make all the difference.”

  “Sure.” She rose. “Thanks.”

  When Leah arrived home after her meeting with Alex, her nerves were dancing on edge. She took Charlie for a long
walk, hoping to calm herself. The afternoon had warmed under a bright sun, but the tension straining her nerves never quite loosened. She found herself searching for Philip, looking behind trees and bushes, even into the open windows of her neighbors’ town houses. Each time a car door closed, she flinched. Each time a curtain fluttered, she tensed. Each time she heard footsteps, she expected to see Philip.

  Behind the locked doors of her town house, the fear coiled tighter, and she found it impossible to relax. In the kitchen she made a sandwich with chips, and while Charlie chewed her bone, she watched a movie on television. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t shake the sense that she was being watched. She felt like a caged animal.

  She finished her sandwich, rinsed the plate, and put it in the dishwasher. She leaned against the counter, staring out into the living room. The hair on the back of her neck tingled, and she had the sudden overwhelming sense that someone was listening to her. She couldn’t say how she knew, only that she did.

  She hadn’t found anything out of the ordinary when she’d cleaned, but she knew he was listening. With no motivation other than her paranoia, she began searching for something that might prove she wasn’t going crazy.

  She turned over the coffee table and skimmed her hand over the bottom. She pulled the cushions off the chairs. She upended her couch and searched the underside. All the while, Charlie sat happily, chewing on her bone as if it were perfectly normal for her owner to be searching for listening devices. “You’ve landed with a real winner, Charlie.”

  The dog glanced up when she heard her name and wagged her tail before returning to the chew toy.

  After fifteen minutes of searching, Leah sat on the floor, certain she wasn’t losing her mind. Philip had left something here. She knew it. As she leaned back against the couch, her gaze drifted to the heating vent by the baseboard. Curious, she retrieved a screwdriver from her kitchen junk drawer and squatted by the vent. She undid the screws, removed the vent cover, and flipped it over, inspecting it carefully for anything that didn’t seem to fit. Nothing. She looked in the vent. Nothing.

  She replaced the vent cover and moved to the next one in the room. Again nothing. Charlie, thinking she was on the floor playing a game now, trotted over to her and licked her face. She smiled, rubbing the dog’s head.