Emma.
Holstering his gun, he turned and sprinted back into the store. The manager and his employees were leaving the office as he passed the customer service counter, but he didn’t stop to check on them. He had to find Emma.
“We’re fine!” the manager yelled after him. “Thanks for asking! Not that I can say the same for my store.”
Adam didn’t stop to respond. All he could focus on was Emma.
He ran to the back corner of the store and looked around but saw no sign of her.
“Emma! He’s gone. Where are you?”
“Adam.” He heard his name and spun toward a pile of packages of toilet paper just in time to see a pack slide out of the way, exposing Emma. “I’m right here.”
He pushed the toilet paper aside, clearing a path. “Are you okay? Did you get hit?”
She shook her head. “I’m fine. Just a little shaken up.”
Adam reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind Emma’s ear, then ran his thumb over a smudge on her cheek. “You’ve got a little something—”
Before he could finish his sentence, Emma launched herself into his arms. “He tried to kill me, Adam! Again.”
He smoothed her hair, letting his hand run lightly down her back. “I know, honey. I’m so sorry.” Emma’s body trembled as he held her. He pressed a kiss to the top of her hair. “It’s all right now. I’ve got you.”
“I’ve been in some sticky situations before but this is the first time someone actually tried to kill me. Now, twice in one day.” Emma stepped back. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t stop shaking.”
“Just let it happen. It will pass in a few minutes. It’s the adrenaline.” He took her hand and led her toward the front of the store. “Let’s get you home. I want to feed the dogs, then get you somewhere safe.”
She shook her head and stopped walking. “What about the house? And the dogs?”
“I’ll get a patrol car to check on it through the night.”
He could see she had started to waver. “I can’t just leave the dogs there. Do you know a hotel in town that will let me bring them?”
Adam took a deep, steadying breath. “I’m sure we can find a place.”
Emma pulled her hand from his. “I want to go home tonight. I’ll leave in the morning. I need my laptop and my clothes and—”
Adam ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t get you, Emma. You’re the one that showed up at the police department asking for help. I’m trying to help you and you resist me at every pass.”
“I went to the station to tell you about the murder. Not because I wanted you to put me under lock and key.” Emma stormed off, marching toward the front doors with her shoulders set and her back straight. When she got there, she stopped walking. Crossing her arms over her chest, she leaned against the wall and stared out through the glass.
Her back-and-forth emotions were just a response to what had happened. Textbook behavior. But it didn’t stop the frustration from welling up. One minute she wanted his help, the next she was pretty much telling him to take his help and shove it. Adam strode after her but stopped when he remembered the store’s crew. “Y’all okay?”
“Yes,” a young girl answered. “Thank you so much for saving us.”
“Do you know what that was all about?” the manager demanded.
“Not really,” Adam answered, walking toward the door. “I’ll call it in, though, and get some uniformed officers over here. Please don’t touch anything.”
As he approached the doors, he could hear the sounds of Emma crying quietly. She didn’t even turn to acknowledge him, just followed him to the doors.
Gun in hand, Adam stepped through the sliding doors and stopped, surveying the lot.
Emma stayed behind him. He couldn’t tell if it was to keep him from seeing her tears or because she wanted to use him as protection. Either way he’d take it.
“Looks okay but stay behind me anyway until we get to the truck.” Adam glanced back at her. Emma nodded but didn’t say anything. He half expected her to bolt across the lot. She didn’t leave though, so once they were inside the truck, he pulled out his phone and called the desk sergeant. As soon as he was certain officers and the crime scene people were on the way, he ended the call and put his phone back in his pocket.
“Let’s go. I feel like sitting ducks out here like this.” Adam reached for her hand, but Emma tucked it in her pocket.
As they headed toward the lot exit, two police cruisers pulled into the lot with their blue lights on. Adam opened his window and waved them over.
One of the cars pulled in close and opened a window as well. “Hey, Detective. Heard you got shot at buying toothpaste or something. That explains a lot.”
Adam shook his head at the younger officer. “Very funny, Jones.”
“Seriously, though. Any idea who the shooter was or where he was headed?” Officer Jones asked, glancing around the parking lot.
“He took off about three minutes ago in a dark-colored sedan. I didn’t catch the tags so there’s no BOLO. Right now, I just need y’all to go inside and make a report. Take a few statements and document everything for the insurance claims they’ll have to make. Crime scene on the way?”
“Yeah. Glad you two are okay.” Jones pointed toward Emma. “You need one of us to take her home?”
“Thanks. I’ll get her where she needs to be. You guys just get this place processed, please.”
“Will do.” Jones pulled his car away, the other car following him to the fire lane in front of the store.
“Let’s get you home now.” Adam put his truck in gear and headed out of the parking lot.
Emma turned away from the passenger window to look at him. “You’re still going to let me go home?”
“You’ve got to take care of the dogs. It’s nearly ten o’clock as it is. I’ll stay on the sofa and keep an eye on things. You get some sleep, and in the morning we will figure out a plan.”
Emma nodded slightly. “Okay.”
They made the drive to Emma’s parents’ home about a mile outside the city in silence. Emma stared out the window, trying to ignore the fact that her heart still beat hard and fast in her chest and her hands still trembled slightly.
At one point, Adam fiddled with the radio. After flipping through every single channel twice, he finally settled on a local station known for playing an eclectic mix of past hits. An old rock ballad came on, something she’d listened to plenty of times in her life but one particular memory of a Christmas party long ago filled her mind. Emma stole a glance at Adam, wondering if he remembered also.
He made no move to change the channel, but he had a white-knuckled grip on his steering wheel.
For the first time in a really long time, Emma let the memories of that night play through. The youth group party with all of their friends had always been the highlight of the holiday season. Emma and Miranda had gone all out, getting their nails done, fixing their hair, and buying new dresses. Miranda couldn’t wait for Adam, her most recent crush, to see her all dressed up. Unfortunately, it hadn’t been Miranda that Adam looked for that night.
The kiss had been tiny, a little peck really, but they’d been under a sprig of mistletoe and their friends had cheered them on until Adam finally leaned in.
“You smell nice,” he’d whispered when he’d kissed her. “And you look beautiful.”
Emma would never, ever forget the look on Miranda’s face as she walked into the room carrying two sodas just as their lips made contact.
“You’re remembering too, aren’t you?” Adam’s voice interrupted her trip down memory lane.
“I never forgot,” Emma replied, not looking at him.
“I haven’t either,” Adam replied. “If it weren’t for me, she’d still be alive.”
“You don’t get to shoulder all the blame there. I was her best friend. I knew how
big her crush on you was. She felt betrayed.”
“I know,” Adam said quietly. “It was supposed to be a harmless kiss under the mistletoe.”
Emma studied her hands, picking at some loose nail polish. “If only she hadn’t run out of there. If only she’d let me explain.”
Adam reached over and squeezed her hand lightly. “If only she’d let us explain.”
Emma looked at their entwined fingers. “I don’t know. Maybe it wouldn’t have helped. That kiss didn’t feel so harmless to me, and Miranda could always read me like a book.”
They reached the end of the drive leading to Emma’s parents’ house. Adam pulled in and stopped the truck. Turning, he looked at her, his eyes searching deep into her soul. “If I could change that night, losing Miranda that way, I would. I’d have run faster, stopped her from getting in her car, or chased after her and stopped her before she could wreck. But the one thing I would never go back and change would be that very sweet, much too brief kiss under the mistletoe with you. I wish we’d done things differently.”
“Me too. So many things. Adam—” A single tear escaped the corner of her right eye and slid a slow path down her cheek. He reached up and smoothed it away with his thumb, the light contact setting her heart to race mode once again.
“Shh… I know. I miss her too. And I have carried a lifetime of regret with me since that night. Regret that Miranda saw us and regret that she died. But I don’t regret kissing you. Not one bit, and the day may come where I’d like to do it again, no mistletoe needed.”
He turned back to the wheel, set the truck in gear, and continued on down the rocky path that led to the house. Emma wanted to say something, fire back some sassy remark that took the seriousness out of Adam’s comment, but she had nothing. Pretty much because she felt the exact same way. No man she’d kissed since that night had affected her the same way, and it had been the standard to which she’d held all her dates. Unintentionally… or maybe completely intentionally.
Five
When they pulled up in front of the house, Emma could see the dogs in the front window barking at Adam’s truck. Grabbing her purse, Emma jumped down and headed toward the front door, keys in hand.
“Wait!” Adam called after her. “Please. Let me go in first.”
“Why?” Emma asked.
“Because I have the gun.” Adam pulled his gun from the holster and held it out in front of him.
She rolled her eyes but stopped and let him go first. After the day she’d already had, she had no interest in any more surprises.
They followed the light-lined path to the front porch. Adam paused at the foot of the steps and looked around them slowly. Then, one step at a time, he cautiously made his way to the wide wraparound porch. Emma said a silent prayer of thanks that she’d thought to leave the light on inside that morning.
They could hear the frantic tapping of little dog paws on the other side of the door. The matched set of terriers her mom had rescued a couple of years ago scampered back and forth on the tile of the foyer, yapping and barking.
“How many dogs?” Adam asked her.
Emma held up two fingers. “Just two. Brother and sister. Mom named them Lucy and Ricky.”
Adam nodded. “That’s it? Sounds like a dog army on the other side of this door. Can I have your key?”
Emma handed him the front door key. Adam inserted it into the lock and turned. The lock didn’t click.
“Are you sure you locked the door this morning?” Adam whispered to her.
Emma nodded. “I sure hope I did. Dad would have my hide if I didn’t. Retired cop, remember?”
“Then we might have a problem. Stay behind me, okay?” Adam didn’t wait for her to respond. He pushed the door open slowly and stepped inside.
The alarm system chirped, letting her know she had thirty seconds to punch in the code. At least they knew no one had been in the house. Maybe she really did forget to check the lock that morning.
Emma waited in the foyer as Adam moved from room to room, checking windows and looking behind closed doors. He cleared the entire ranch-style home before he spoke.
“Looks all clear to me. I’m going to run back out to my truck before you set the alarm.”
Emma nodded. “Okay. I’m going to check the kitchen and see what I can find for dinner. You hungry?”
“I could eat.”
Emma dropped her purse on the table in the living room. “I’m going to let the dogs out first.”
“Okay,” Adam replied, walking toward the front door.
After sending the dogs out the back door to the fenced-in yard and a quick trip to the powder room where she washed her hands and face, Emma headed to the kitchen.
When she got there, she found Adam standing in front of the refrigerator. “Your parents sure keep a nicely stocked fridge.” He grabbed some eggs, sausage, an onion, and a block of cheese and set them on the counter. “I’m cooking. Omelets sound okay?”
“You don’t have to cook for me.” Emma grabbed a skillet from a cabinet and set it on the stove. “That’s all me. They’ve been gone for a couple of months already.”
“You’ve been in Staunton for two months?”
“About that.” She shrugged. “My parents are on the trip of a lifetime. I don’t know when they’ll return.”
An uncomfortable silence lingered between them for the briefest of moments, until Adam hip-bumped her lightly to step into her place in front of the stove. He turned on a burner and dropped a pat of butter in the frying pan.
“Seriously, Adam, you don’t have to cook for me. You’re already going above and beyond.”
He looked over at her and smiled his irresistible smile. “It’s not a problem. I only ever get to cook for myself and I make way too much. This time I won’t be forced to eat it all so it doesn’t waste.”
Emma chuckled. “You could make smaller amounts.”
“You know I have five brothers, right?”
She shrugged. “Yeah. Of course, I do.”
“By the time I actually got to eat anything I made, all five of them would have already sampled the food or downright stolen it from my plate. The only way to make sure I actually got enough was to cook a ton. Survival of the fittest and all that.”
This time Emma laughed. “Growing up as an only child, I never had to worry about my food being stolen.”
“Lucky,” Adam said, dropping the sausages into the skillet. “So lucky.”
“I always thought you were the lucky one.” Emma leaned against the counter next to the sink. “I begged my parents for a brother or sister for years. I didn’t understand until I became a teenager why they’d only ever had me.”
Adam gave her a curious look. “They didn’t just want one child?”
“No. Mom had always wanted a houseful of kids. Dad too. Unfortunately, Mom’s health couldn’t support that many pregnancies. She has an autoimmune disorder that showed itself while she was pregnant with me. I’m some kind of miracle baby. Everyone expected Mom to lose me before I could be born.”
“So, you really have been stubborn your entire life,” Adam said, giving her a wink.
Emma grabbed the dish towel and snapped it at him lightly. “I am not stubborn. I’m independent and strong willed.”
Adam laughed. “Tell yourself whatever you need to in order to sleep at night.”
Emma planted her hands on her hips. “If I’m stubborn, you’re infuriating.”
“Hey, I resemble that remark.” Adam scooped the sausages out of the pan and put them on a plate. Grabbing a knife from the butcher block, he quickly chopped them up into small sections, then diced an onion and dropped the pieces into the skillet with a new pat of butter.
“My sources confirm this to be true.”
“You have spies watching me?” Adam asked as he moved the onion around in the pan.
“They aren’t spies! M
ore like—sources.”
“You say tomato and I’ll say potato.”
“Um, that’s not exactly how that goes,” Emma said.
Adam shrugged and grinned. “Says who?”
“Ugh.” Emma rolled her eyes for about the hundredth time since she’d shown up in his office. Just like when they were kids. “See? You are infuriating.”
“I’m adorable, actually. My mom says so all the time.” He looked around the kitchen. “Do you have a cheese grater?”
“It’s in the cabinet up there to your left.” She pointed to the correct cabinet. Adam opened it up and found the tool he needed.
“Do you like your eggs really cheesy?” he asked as he shredded the brick of cheddar cheese.
“Who doesn’t?” Emma opened the refrigerator and pulled out a jar of salsa and a container of sour cream. “How about we go western with the omelets?”
Adam nodded approval as he stirred the onions. “Sounds good to me.”
Emma set the two toppings on the counter. “So, do you think we scared the hit man off?”
Adam looked at her, his expression serious. “Truthfully?”
She nodded despite knowing she probably didn’t really want to hear his answer.
“No. He might take a break tonight, but you are on his radar and not killing you now would make him look bad to the business.”
“So, not killing me makes him look bad. Killing me will make him a hero?” Emma frowned.
Adam cracked some eggs into the pan, tossing the shells into the sink. “You know how cartels and gangs work. It will elevate his status. Earn him approval from the bosses.”
She sighed. “Yay, me.”
Adam reached over and covered her hand with his. Out of habit, Emma turned her hand palm up so their fingers intertwined. They’d held hands so many times as children before it became taboo in middle school. She’d missed the simple touch. He squeezed lightly. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
Murder on the Mountain: A Marshall Brothers Novel Page 4
