Jessica may have been bitten by the lunacy bug, but crazy doesn't equal smart. Instead of leaving the knife on Mickey for the cops to find, she took it with her. In a panic, she ditched it in the bushes down the road from Castle Rock, along with the plastic cup she'd been sipping from when she tricked Sid and Mickey into drinking the drugged liquor. Jessica later realized that if the knife and cup were found, they'd have her prints all over them. She returned the next night to retrieve them, which was when she saw me leaving the same bushes where she'd hidden the evidence.
When Jessica realized that I was on her trail, she starting looking for ways to take me out of the picture. Her first opportunity came when she was in a bathroom stall at the strip club. She overheard Ginger talking to me and used the phone-spoofing app to trick me into going outside. Jessica set Ginger up to take the fall for my attack and even slipped her lipstick in the woman's purse earlier that evening. She'd hoped that putting the suspicion on the red-haired tour manager would buy some more time before the police turned their attention her way.
Jessica hadn't expected me to continue my search for the truth after she put me in the hospital. While they were at Camila's the next evening, Kat mentioned my discovery of the spoofed phone call. Jessica realized that I hadn't given up after all. She couldn't let me find out her true identity, so she decided she had no choice but to finish me off.
My friends were tipped off that something was wrong when Emmett called shortly after I left Castle Rock with Suzie. He'd apparently tried my cell and couldn't get through, so he rang my office phone, which Kat answered. Not only had he not sent a text message asking to meet me at my apartment—he was nowhere near Atlanta. Meanwhile, Bronwyn looked up Jessica Whitley and stumbled upon the same L.A. Times article that I had been reading. The girls called Detective Dixon to tell him they thought I was in danger, but Mickey insisted on coming to my rescue. Jack came with Mickey, unable to accept that the woman who'd driven me home really wasn't his fiancée. Luckily for me, they showed up in time to stop Jessica from carving me up like a Thanksgiving turkey.
Emmett caught the red eye from Vegas to Atlanta and called me as soon as he landed Thursday morning. Kat had insisted I stay at her house since I couldn't bear to return to my apartment after Jessica's attack. I gave Emmett Kat's address and slipped onto her front porch to wait for him, not wanting to wake my sleeping friends. He arrived a short time later, looking as tired as I felt, with dark circles under his eyes and his short, black hair sticking out at odd angles. He was dressed in green khakis and a camouflage T-shirt that was covered in a light dusting of dirt. Emmett halted mid-stride in Kat's driveway when he saw me, taking in my new bruises and cuts with a look of horror. "What happened?" he asked once he found his voice.
"That's what I want to know." I couldn't keep the edge from my tone. "Where have you been since Monday?" I held up a hand to stop him before he could launch into some fabricated explanation. "Don't tell me you've been on assignment," I warned. "I talked to Gavin yesterday, Emmett. I know you're not working with the Bureau anymore."
Emmett's back went rigid, and the color drained from his face. He stood stock-still for a few moments, his expression strained. Finally, he exhaled. "I knew we'd have to have this conversation sooner or later," he said with resignation. He glanced past me, up the steps to Kat's front door. "Mind if we go somewhere private?"
I narrowed my eyes at him. "I don't know if that's such a great idea," I said coolly. "I'm not sure I feel safe with you anymore."
My words must have stung him. Emmett's eyes grew misty. "I guess I deserve that," he said quietly. "But I need you to believe me. I never meant to hurt you. In fact, all I did was to try to protect you."
"If you wanted to protect me, you would've been here," I snapped, rising from Kat's front steps. Emmett reached out and laid a gentle hand on my arm, but I bristled at his touch. Ever since Jessica's attack, I'd wanted nothing more than to see Emmett, to have him fold his arms around me and tell me that everything between us was okay. Now that we were face to face, I couldn't fight the hurt and frustration welling inside me. "You told me you loved me." Words fell out of my mouth in short, angry bursts. "But you've been lying to me. For over a month." My face burned. "Why?"
Guilt crept across Emmett's face, and he hung his head. He sat down on the steps and patted the spot next to him. I grudgingly reclaimed my perch on the stairs and glared up at him. "I didn't want to worry you," Emmett began, fixing me with sad, green eyes. "I know you still have nightmares about Shawn Stone. I figured as long as you thought I was still on the case, you'd feel safe."
"Why aren't you on the case?" I asked, the anger slowly draining out of me.
"Ame, I didn't resign by choice." Shame was evident in his tone. "I was forced to—after Montana."
"What happened in Montana?" An uneasy feeling knotted in my chest. "You mentioned that the Bureau tracked Stone there, right?"
"We thought we did." He blew out a breath and ran a hand through his short, black hair. "I should start at the beginning, back when Gavin and I first came to Atlanta last fall." He wouldn't meet my gaze. "When I blew my cover to protect you, it got me in hot water with the Bureau."
"So this is my fault?"
"No, I didn't say that." Emmett held up a hand. "Gavin reported me—I don't blame him. He didn't really have a choice. Our operation fell apart, and Stone got away. Our superiors had questions. Gav was just doing his job. If the roles had been reversed…" He shrugged. "Anyway, that was my first strike. Then the sting in Montana happened, and everything fell to shit."
I looked down to see that Emmett's hands were trembling. "It's okay," I said softly, reaching out to steady him. "You can tell me."
Emmett grabbed my hand and squeezed tightly, as if he were afraid that if he let go, he'd be swept away. "I wanted to close this case so badly that I would've done anything." His jaw muscle flexed. "I let my emotions cloud my judgment. I made a huge mistake."
My throat felt dry. "What did you do?" I asked, though I was suddenly afraid to hear the answer.
Emmett turned and looked at me, his green eyes swimming. As I watched, a lone tear rolled down his cheek and splashed onto the porch steps. "I shot a civilian." Emmett seemed to cave in on himself. He slumped over, gripping me around the middle. I held him, gently stroking his hair as he cried in my lap. I felt oddly empty, as if someone had hollowed me out and set me on Kat's porch like a jack-o'-lantern. I'd spent all this time being suspicious and angry when Emmett was going through something soul-crushingly awful. The guilt had been eating at him for a month now. It was a wonder he'd kept it together for as long as he did.
"Our intel was no good," Emmett said when he could finally speak again. He sat up and wiped his eyes with the heels of his hands. "Stone was never in Montana. It was just some eccentric old hermit living in a cabin out in the woods. He looked so much like Shawn that I couldn't tell the difference." Emmett swallowed, averting his eyes. "Maybe I wanted it to be him so badly that I couldn't see anyone else." His voice grew thick with tears again. "Maybe I'm crazy."
"You're not crazy." I reached for his hand, but he drew it away. "What happened to the man you shot?" I asked, hearing my own voice quake. "Did he…?" My words caught in my throat.
"No. He's alive." Emmett replied, and relief washed through me in a cool wave. "But I put him in the hospital. An innocent man." He sighed. "I had to go before the board for a disciplinary hearing. They gave me a choice: resign or be fired. You know the rest."
"Oh, Emmett." I slid my arms around him again, wishing there was something I could do or say to take away some of his pain. "Why didn't you tell me before? You could've come down to Atlanta when it happened. You could have stayed with me."
"I was too ashamed," he admitted. "I've spent the last month trying to track down Stone on my own."
I stiffened. "Em, that's dangerous. Without the FBI and their resources, things could go horribly wrong."
"Things can't get any worse than they already a
re," he replied. "And as long as he's still out there, I can't guarantee your safety." His jaw tightened. "Another reason why I wish you'd agree to join Witness Protection."
"We're not having this argument again," I said, trying not to sound irritated. "I already told you that I'm not giving up my life and my friends to go into hiding. If I do, then Shawn wins, whether he finds me or not. Plus his mob family disowned him when the whole scandal hit the newsstands last year. The only threat to my safety is Shawn himself, and he has yet to show his face in Atlanta again."
"Well, you know how I feel about it," Emmett grumbled. "I think it's stupid not to take every possible precaution. Stone is dangerous."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Did you just call me stupid?"
Emmett's jaw went slack. "What? No—that's not what I meant." He pushed out a breath. "I just think you're being irrational, putting yourself through unnecessary risk. You're a sitting duck down here, Ame."
"If I leave the city, it's going to be on my own terms," I said, feeling my face grow hot. "Not because of anything you or some washed up mobster dictates."
"Fine." Emmett stood up, his mouth set in a firm line. "Be stubborn." He took a few steps toward his rented red Corolla.
"Where are you going?" I started down the stairs. I caught up to Emmett and grabbed his arm. "You just got here."
"I'm sorry." The anger drained out of Emmett's voice. He turned back to face me, a pained look on his face. "I'm screwed up right now, all right? I need to get my life sorted out."
"So, what are you saying?" My voice was small. I swallowed hard. "You flew all this way just to…what? Break up with me?"
"I didn't plan any of this." Emmett gently gripped my shoulders, leaning down so that our heads were touching. "As long as Stone is still out there, we're both always going to be on edge. I care too much about you to keep fighting with you all the time. Good-bye, Amelia. I love you." He pressed his lips to my forehead and turned away.
I watched, stunned, as Emmett climbed into the red Corolla and drove off. He never looked back. "I love you, too," I whispered to his disappearing taillights. Then I returned to the porch steps, held my head in my hands, and had a nice, long cry.
* * *
"You wanna talk about it?" Kat asked me later that afternoon. She and the guys had woken up by the time I came back inside the house, my eyes swollen and my face streaked with tears. Being the amazing friend that she is, Kat diverted everyone's attention with an offering of fresh cinnamon rolls and coffee. Then she'd waited until we were alone in my office to ask for the lowdown on the reality show drama that is my life. She listened attentively as I filled her in on my conversation with Emmett and his hasty exit. "Didn't see that coming," she murmured. "I kind of expected you to be the one to end things."
I lay my head down on my desk. "I really do care about him," I said miserably. "I just don't understand. He's been through some really hard stuff in the past month. I could've been there for him if he'd only told me."
"Give the guy a break," Kat said, though her voice was gentle. "Like he said, he's screwed up right now. He didn't want to drag you down with him because he loves you."
"He wants me to leave town." My face pinched. "He brought up the whole Witness Protection thing again." I swallowed. "Maybe he's right, Kat."
She furrowed her brow. "Do you really wanna end up working on some farm in Iowa with a name like Ellie Sue? Or as Alexandra the Accountant in Poughkeepsie?" Her frown deepened. "I might never see you again."
I chuckled. "Come on—that'll never happen. You're stuck with me, kid." My smile faded. "What I meant was maybe I really should consider getting away, at least for a little while. After last night, I don't even feel safe in my own apartment. There are just too many bad memories around here lately."
"You're preaching to the choir, sister."
"Oh, man. I'm sorry." Guilt colored my cheeks. "I shouldn't be saying stuff like this to you, after everything that happened to you last year—"
"Hush," Kat said, holding up a hand. "What kind of BFF am I if you can't tell me how you really feel?" She unfolded her legs and rose from my office couch. "I totally understand, and I think getting out of town for a while would do you some good. But what's best for you isn't always best for me, ya know? I mean, yeah, a vacation sounds nice. I just couldn't bring myself to leave Castle Rock long-term. This place is all that's left of Parker. Even with Chad back in my life, I'm always going to hold on to that." Kat crossed the room, headed for the door. "You've got to do what's right for you, Amelia," she said, pausing in the threshold to give me a meaningful look. "If you need a place to stay, my home is always open. But if you do need to get away for a bit, your job at Castle Rock will be waiting for you when you come back. Just remember that."
I smiled. "I will. Thanks, girl."
"Love you, chick," she replied with a little wink. Kat turned back toward the threshold and almost bumped into Mickey on his way into my office. "Whoops, sorry!" she said, scooting passed him.
"Hey," Mickey said softly as he closed the door behind him. He grabbed the chair in front of my desk and flipped it backwards, straddling it with his legs and draping his arms over the back. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I wish people would stop asking me how I'm feeling," I answered in a sarcastic tone. "I'm fine, really." I pointed to my head. "Doesn't hurt right now, even without the painkillers."
"Good." Mickey gave me his signature boyish grin. His smile faltered a little as another emotion passed behind his eyes, something I couldn't quite identify. "Listen," he said, dropping his voice low. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I heard you talking to Kat about leaving town."
"Oh, it was nothing." I gave a dismissive wave. "I was just telling her that maybe it would do me some good to get away from Atlanta for a few days, maybe a week. I just need to recharge."
"What about two months?" He looked at me, his expression serious.
I squinted at him. "What are you getting at?"
"Ginger quit this morning." Mickey's lips quirked. "She said we weren't paying her enough for what we put her through. Apparently getting thrown in jail and accused of murder and assault wasn't in her job description." He shrugged. "To be honest, she's been a bit high-strung for a while now. I think the tour was too much for her. Some people just aren't cut out for life on the road."
I blinked at him. "And you think I am? Mickey, we had this same conversation five years ago, and it only ended in heartache for both of us."
"But you said yourself just the other day that you've always wondered where we would be if you had gone to L.A. with me," he said. Mickey leaned so far forward that the chair was practically tipping over. "Look, our bags are all packed, and Dillon's on board to join the tour. We're flying to Orlando this afternoon for tomorrow night's show, but we'll be back on Saturday when the tour bus is ready to be picked up from the crime lab." He flinched, dropping his gaze to my desk. "They're, er, stripping the carpeting and cleaning up the mess…Detective Dixon promised it would be like a whole new bus. No trace of…what happened." Mickey swallowed hard then looked back up at me. "Just take a few days and consider it, okay? You have until Saturday morning."
He rose from the chair and reached for something in his back pocket. Mickey laid it down on my desk: a black lanyard with a laminated badge attached. Royal Flush's burning card logo was on one side; the other had the word STAFF printed across it in all capital letters. "Think about it," he said, walking around my desk to lean down and plant a kiss on my cheek. Then he walked out of my office.
I watched him go, a feeling of longing tugging at my heart. Not longing for Mickey—I was still reeling from my breakup with Emmett, and despite the chemistry I still shared with my once almost- fiancé, I wasn't ready to jump into another relationship. But I was ready for a change. The question was, would I find what I was looking for out on the road with Royal Flush?
* * *
"Flight Seven-Thirty-Five from Orlando to Atlanta is on time," Kat read off t
he monitor in the baggage claim area. It was nearly noon on Saturday, and we were waiting for the members of Royal Flush to arrive at Hartsfield-Jackson Airport. The tour bus had been gassed up and dropped off at Castle Rock earlier that morning. The cleanup crew did an excellent job—there wasn't a speck of blood on the new carpet or furniture. It was almost as if they'd brought over a brand new bus.
My suitcase was already on board.
"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Kat asked, slipping her arm around my waist and giving me a half-hug. "I'm going to miss the hell outta you, ya know. I don't think we've been apart for two whole months, like, ever." She blinked back tears.
"Hey, don't get all mushy on me. Bronwyn already hit me with the waterworks this morning, which was kind of disturbing. Although, I'm pretty sure hers were happy tears since I'd just handed her a key to my apartment." Bronwyn was staying at my place and cat-sitting while I was away, which got her out of her parents' house for the two months before her dorm reopened at Georgia State. I had also asked her to fill in as Castle Rock's official booking agent for the rest of the summer, and Kat had given her a hefty bonus for taking the job.
"The tour will be over before you know it," I continued. "Plus you already have tickets to two Royal Flush shows in Asheville and Charleston. Not to mention the VIP passes to come hang with us backstage at the Jamisphere Festival in Tennessee next month. You'll be seeing plenty of me and your lover boy."
"Don't call Chad that," she said, scrunching up her nose. Kat's lips quirked in a scandalous grin. "I call him—"
Deception at Castle Rock (Amelia Grace Rock 'n' Roll Mysteries Book 2) Page 20
