by J. R. Cowan
The man stared at them, unblinking.
“Is he…alive?”
Justin crawled toward the old man and felt for a pulse. It was weak. Another few hours, maybe a day and he’d be gone. “Call 911. He needs an ambulance NOW.” He shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around the man’s shoulders.
“I don’t have any reception.” Charlotte hurried from the cave to make the call.
He scanned the area for a blanket and noticed the rounded area at the end of the cave appeared to be the man’s home. Stacks of canned food and alcohol bottles in one corner. Clothes, a pillow and a couple blankets in another.
“Help is on the way.” Charlotte took off her coat and covered the man. “Sir, what’s your name?”
He blinked then closed his eyes.
“Stay awake. Please. Open your eyes.” Charlotte grabbed his hands and rubbed to warm them.
The man opened his eyes and smiled at her. “Aggie,”
“Your name is Aggie?”
The man shook his head and pointed behind Charlotte. “Aggie. My love.”
“Is Aggie your wife?” Charlotte whispered.
The man nodded.
“Is she an angel?”
He nodded again.
“Do you see her?”
Nodded again.
“Please stay with us. Aggie wouldn’t want to see you like this.”
The man blinked and stared at Charlotte. He seemed to understand what she was saying.
She continued talking to him while Justin went out to escort the EMT’s to the cave.
It seemed like it took forever for them to arrive and once they did, everything went quickly. The frail man was stabilized and taken to the hospital. No one could get his name. He just kept repeating, “Aggie, my love” over and over again until help arrived. Justin wasn’t convinced the man would make it, but he was glad he didn’t die while they were waiting for help to arrive.
“He lived here,” Charlotte mumbled, taking in the cave, which was now lit with flares and lanterns.
Officers moved around them, looking for some form of identification, but came up empty. No one seemed to know who this old man was and why he was living in a cave.
Lila rushed into the cave with Luke by her side. She hugged Charlotte then glanced around the cave. “I can’t believe this. Someone has been living up here. How did we not know this?”
“He was so cold.” Charlotte stared at the spot where the man had been lying. She shivered in the cold night air.
Justin put his arm around her and rubbed his hand up and down her arm. “Let’s get back to the Manor. You’re freezing.” He guided her toward the front of the cave.
Charlotte rested her head on his shoulder and snuggled into his side.
His heart skipped a beat and the world tilted. Why did this feel so right? He thought. Just this once he’d allow himself to relish the feel of her in his arms. Her flowery perfume filled the space around him. It was like walking through a flower garden. If only this could be his world.
Her.
Him.
A team.
Not just professionally.
A couple.
A power couple.
Taking on the world together. He thoughts were interrupted when they reached the creek and Marcus came rushing over to them.
Charlotte stiffened and moved away from him.
He felt the loss instantly. What was wrong with him? Charlotte was his client. Nothing more. He needed to remember that. The sooner the better. She was off limits.
Hate.
He hated her, right?
The reasons why were becoming hazy and he needed to remind himself of them again.
“Did you find Noah’s murderer? The old man killed him, didn’t he?”
Charlotte scowled. “We found an old man, who apparently was living out here, but right now we need to find out who he is and locate his family. I’m going back to Luke’s to do some research.” She scooted around Marcus and jumped into Luke’s truck next to Lila.
Justin sat on the tailgate. He needed space from Charlotte. Maybe the ride back to the Manor would give him time to clear his head. He doubted it, but distance would be good either way. Charlotte could break him, and he couldn’t afford the heart break…twice. He’d never survive it.
Chapter 8
Charlotte spent the next few hours in her room, pouring over missing person cases. A friend at the KC police department sent her tons of information, but it proved to be fruitless. No one seemed to be missing a father or grandparent that fit this man’s description.
Lila assured her they would run the man’s DNA through the system, but Charlotte wanted to locate the family asap. The poor man had been living alone in the woods for who knows how long.
Maybe he was a loner.
No family.
No friends.
No one.
The thought made her sad.
“Charlotte,” a familiar masculine voice called from the other side of the door.
“Come in.” Her eyes still on the computer screen.
“I brought you something to eat.” Justin gestured to the tray of food filled with roast beef, mashed potatoes and gravy, a side salad and some fruit.
Her stomach growled, and her head had started pounding a while ago, but this search was important, and she didn’t want to abandon it. There was no time to waste. What if the old man was dying? The family would want to say their good-bye’s.
“Charlotte?” Justin sat next to her on the bed.
She blinked then took in his handsome face. An overwhelming urge to snuggle into his strong arms and fall asleep consumed her, but she resisted. Earlier she’d given into the mixture of fatigue and the need for warmth. Now, she had no excuse.
He took the laptop from her hands and replaced it with the tray of food. “Eat. I’ll search.” He began to type away on the keys.
“Fine.” She dug into the food. Food had been the last thing on her mind when she’d returned to Luke’s, but now she couldn’t eat fast enough. “This is so good.” Her words came out garbled before she swallowed and added, “If I could steal Mrs. White away from the Manor, I would totally hire her to cook for me full time.”
“Over my dead body.” Cynthia stomped into Charlotte’s room and snatched the tray away from her.
“Hey! I wasn’t finished.” She reached for the tray.
Cynthia chuckled and replaced the tray. “Find anything?” She gestured toward the computer.
Charlotte shook her head. “Nothing. How is that possible? Someone has to be missing him, right?”
“I don’t know. It’s almost like he didn’t want to be found. The phone has been ringing off the hook. Town gossip flying. Everyone thinks he murdered Noah. The reporters are camped outside the Manor gate.”
“I think I may have found something.” Justin turned the laptop, so the woman could see it. A picture of the burned Manor was splashed across the headline of the paper.
“What happened?” Charlotte took the computer and scanned the article.
“Old man West set it on fire after his wife died.” Cynthia sighed and looked down at her hands. “Broke his heart. They were soulmates. Inseparable. Blessed by our Angelica. A doctor’s daughter and a stable hand. Love at first sight.”
Charlotte exchanged glances with Justin.
His face stoic and unreadable.
“It broke my heart the day I found out Mrs. West had died. She was like a second mother to me. I knew we had to buy the Manor and restore it. Especially after I received Mrs. West’s letter.”
“Letter?” Charlotte locked eyes with Cynthia.
“She wrote me just before she died. Insisted we buy the Manor from Andrew. Her attorney sent us the papers and we wired the money to an account, but never saw or heard from him again. He’d threatened to burn the Manor down the day before she died and made good on that promise. Too many memories. Too much love. It was more than he could bare.”
“What happened t
o Mr. West? The article says he disappeared after the fire. One minute he was there and the next he was gone.”
“For years no one saw him, but then about ten years ago, he showed up out of the blue at the local bar. Some people tried to engage him. Asked where he’d been, but he was drunk, so no one knew if what he’d told them was even true.”
“What did he say?”
“Something about his stash running out and needing more sustenance. Never said where he was living though. Probably just came into town then left again. He’s popped in and out since then too, but I haven’t heard anything lately. Of course, there’s always rumors and ‘West sightings’ and a few kids started a rumor that he was a ghost, haunting the town,” Cynthia waved it off. “Ridiculous really. A ghost. That drinks whiskey.”
“What did you say?” Charlotte’s mouth dropped open then she turned back to the laptop.
“A ghost?”
“No, the other part.”
“Whiskey.”
“Yes. The bottles.”
“The bottles?” Cynthia cocked her head and when Charlotte didn’t respond, she turned to Justin. “What is she talking about?”
“We found a bunch of whiskey bottles. A trail leading to the cave.”
“Huh? You don’t think…” her voice trailing off.
Charlotte nodded and pointed to the screen. “Look. Here in the corner.” She enlarged the photo. It was an old man with a whiskey bottle in his hand. Heading toward the woods. The bluffs. Charlotte bit her lip. Tears forming in her eyes. The poor man lost his wife and spent years living in the woods. She knew without a doubt the man in the cave was Mr. West. “What was Mrs. West’s name?”
“Agnes. Why?”
“Aggie.” Charlotte whispered.
Cynthia gasped. “I haven’t heard that nickname in years. Andy used to call Agnes, his ‘Aggie’. His love. Where did you hear that name?”
“From him.” Charlotte pointed to the screen. “The man in the cave. He was calling for ‘Aggie’.”
“I have to tell Sherriff Payne.” Cynthia jumped up from the bed and headed to the door.
“Wait!”
Cynthia spun around to face Charlotte. “What is it, dear?”
“Does he have any family? Any children?”
Cynthia shook her head. “Agnes was barren. They tried for years to fill the Manor with children and when they couldn’t they opened a bed and breakfast to bring families and children to their home. It was their way of having the large family they dreamed of.”
Charlotte watched Cynthia leave then turned back to the computer screen. Her heart aching for Mr. West. He’d lost everything. His wife. His home. No wonder he was living in the woods. It was probably the only place were memories didn’t haunt him. Where he could escape. She sighed.
“You really think it’s him?”
She jumped. Having forgotten Justin was beside her. “I do. It makes sense.”
Justin was quiet for a moment. “Do you think he killed Noah?”
Charlotte bit her lip. It was a possibility, but it didn’t make sense. What motive did he have to kill Noah? Unless Noah threatened to expose him. To take him away from his home. West killing him in a drunken rage.
“Charlotte?” Justin took her hand. “Are you prepared to write the outcome of this story? Even if it means Mr. West is the murderer?”
A lump formed in her throat. The romantic in her wanted this story to have a happy ending. Finding out about Mr. and Mrs. West threw a wrench in her story. It was not a fiction novel. She couldn’t rewrite the ending.
This was a non-fiction piece. She had to tell the truth. State the facts. Even if it meant the ending was sad and tragic. She wanted this story and she was determined to write it. No matter the ending.
Chapter 9
Justin kicked the ground as he watched the group around the bonfire. It was late. Almost midnight, but the band was in full swing. Luke on the guitar. Lila and Charlotte dancing in the front row. Everyone having a good time.
Everyone, but him.
He couldn’t stop thinking about Mr. West. Sherriff Payne called Cynthia a half an hour ago and confirmed that the old man was indeed Mr. West. He was dehydrated, but otherwise in good health. The doctor’s thought he could go home tomorrow.
Cynthia was already preparing a room for him at the Manor. She was planning to leave with Clyde first thing tomorrow to visit him at the hospital and convince him to come back to the Manor. Back to his home.
The old man reminded Justin of himself. Pining for a woman he couldn’t have. Mr. West’s wife was taken from him while Charlotte remained just out of Justin’s reach. The pain probably worse for Mr. West because he got a chance to love his ‘Aggie’. Justin’s pain was not getting to love Charlotte. Aching for her. Alcohol had numbed that pain for him just like it had for West.
College was a blur of drunken nights. Drinking away the pain, the love he’d felt for Charlotte until one day he’d replaced love with hate. Except he hadn’t. He still loved her. Even now, his heart hurt watching her. Like someone sucker punched him in the stomach over and over.
Several guys had asked her dance. The sight of her laughing and twirling around in their arms made him dizzy and sick with jealousy. She was his, yet she wasn’t and never would be.
Being here was messing with him.
In the city he could pretend.
Pretend she was his client. A pain in his butt who wouldn’t listen. Wouldn’t listen to his advice. Would wait until the last minute to submit novels. Would deny cover after cover until the design team got it just right.
The woman was infuriating.
Determined to make him gray by his next birthday.
A tack in his shoe.
Yet being here with her, things were different. Here she was sweet, caring, fun, genuine, brilliant, soft and so much more. Here she had his heart and he wasn’t sure he could ever get it back.
“Pretty night.” Clyde gestured to the sky.
Justin nodded then tensed when he saw Marcus walk up to Charlotte and hold out his hand. He balled his fist and stood up before Clyde could say anything else.
It was like someone was controlling his body. Moving one foot in front of the other until he found himself standing in front of Charlotte.
A slow song started, and he didn’t wait for her to answer Marcus before spinning her around and into his arms.
Charlotte gasped with surprise, but quickly recovered and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thanks for saving me.” She smiled. Her dark hair blowing around her face. She’d changed into a long flowing skirt and a tight sweater with a jean jacket. The flames from the bon fire danced behind her, lighting up her green eyes.
He resisted the urge to brush the hair from her face and tell her how she beautiful she was. Holding her would have to be enough.
“Justin?” Charlotte cocked her head to the side.
“Hmm?” He’d missed what she’d asked him.
“Will you go to the hospital with me tomorrow?”
“The hospital. Why?”
“To see Mr. West. He has no one. I want to be there for him.”
He smirked.
“What?”
“You.”
“Me?”
“Yes. You’re an angel.” He smiled down at her, fighting the urge to kiss her.
Charlotte shook her head. “Hardly.” She opened her mouth to say more, but frowned.
Justin felt a hand on his shoulder and a hip on his. Before he knew it, Charlotte had let go of his neck and he was standing to the side.
“Excuse me. I believe it’s my turn.” Marcus pulled Charlotte into him and danced into the crowd.
Justin wanted to bully his way back in and reclaim Charlotte, but he didn’t. The sight of her in Marcus’s arms brought him back to prom. A night that broke him. She broke him. Something she could easily do again.
Chapter 10
Charlotte rubbed her eyes. The wine from last night making her brain fuzz
y. She yawned and turned over to see the sun streaming in through her room. Except it wasn’t her room.
Where was she?
She sat up quickly. Her head spinning.
What happened?
Dancing.
Justin.
He left, and she was stuck with Marcus.
He gave her glass of wine. It tasted funny, but she thought maybe it was old grapes or something. She didn’t drink much.
She glanced down and let out a breath. Her clothes were still on, but she was in a room filled with foxes.
It creeped her out. She had to get out of here.
The shower was on.
Was this Marcus’s room?
Why was she here?
Charlotte grabbed her boots and hurried from the room. The hallway was empty. Relieved, she dashed down the stairs and made it to the front door before she collided with Justin.
Her stomach dropped.
His gray eyes turned dark and his jaw tensed. He took in her clothes. She could practically see the thoughts running through his mind and opened her mouth to deny anything, but he turned on his heels and left her standing in the doorway.
“Justin! Wait!”
He kept walking.
She staggered around trying to get her boots on, so she could go after him. This wasn’t her. He should know this. Years together and she’d only had one serious boyfriend and that was in high school.
Writing left little time for relationships so she’d simply avoided them. Living through the characters in her books to provide her with romance.
“Justin. Please. Let me explain.” Charlotte caught up to him. The morning sun peeked over the tree line. The bright rays making her head pound even more.
“Explain what? That you lied to me…AGAIN!” The cool morning air caused smoke to come out his mouth as if he were a smoke breathing dragon.
“Again? I’ve never lied to you.” Charlotte scoffed.
“Really? You told me you weren’t involved with Marcus. Where did you spend the night, Charlotte? I went to your room early this morning. Figured you were writing and to my surprise your bed was made, and you weren’t anywhere to be found. You never make your bed, so I knew that meant you hadn’t slept in it and Mrs. White doesn’t make up the rooms until after breakfast.”
