She turned to Josh. “I’m sorry. She’s … a piece of work.”
He swallowed and studied the grass. “She’s probably right, you know. I never could provide for you like Grayson did, and there is a huge gap in our social status.”
Emmy grabbed his chin with her hand, and forced him to meet her gaze. “You look at me and listen to every word I say.”
Josh’s eyes widened.
“I couldn’t care less about how much money you make. I told you how I grew up. What would make you think I give any credence to money or social status?”
Josh glanced at her house.
Emmy released him and wrapped her arms around herself. “I can’t believe you think that low of me.”
“Whoa.” Josh gently tugged her arms open and wrapped her up in a hug. “It’s not you I think low of, it’s me. I’m just struggling to feel worthy of you.”
Emmy leaned into him, careful to avoid his stitches. “Oh, Josh. You are more than worthy of me.” She went on tiptoes and kissed him softly. “Please don’t let something as silly as money come between us.”
He studied her for a few seconds before slowly nodding. “I don’t want anything to come between us.”
“Now that sounds more like it.” She tangled her fingers in his hair and kissed him again.
Josh chuckled against her lips before wholeheartedly returning the kiss.
“Stop the PDA! You’re killing me here!”
Kelton’s loud voice projected throughout the street and pulled them a respectable distance apart. Emmy stayed close to Josh, refusing to leave his side for any amount of embarrassment Kelton might heap on them.
Kelton bounded across the lawn. “Dude! You’re such a beast. I heard all about you taking a knife for Emmy.”
Josh smiled and offered his hand. “Thanks, Kelton.”
“If only I’d been there. I could’ve tracked that dude down and taken him out. Especially if I would’ve had my d-pole. That guy would still be in the hospital.”
Emmy felt the anger at Aunt Jalina and the fear of her attacker slide away as she listened to Josh and Kelton. She did have people who cared about her, and the most important one still had his arm around her.
22
EMMY OUTLINED GRAYSON’S NAME with her fingertip, then glanced up at the sunshine filtering through the trees. In all of her visits to the cemetery she couldn’t remember one where she hadn’t been rained on. She glanced over her shoulder at the police car. The nonstop protection was getting old, but it was nice to feel safe.
She’d finally told Grayson everything about Josh, except for how she felt when she kissed him. “I’m not saying I’m going to get married tomorrow, but I think I’m ready to move on.” She grimaced. “I’m sorry. I hate how that sounds, like I’m going to forget you, forget us. You were my best friend, Grayson. I won’t forget. I promise.”
A ray of sunshine found its way through the branches to Emmy. She closed her eyes and turned her face up. The warmth of it enveloped her like Grayson’s kindness and lanky arms used to do. Emmy sat there until the moment passed and the pine trees blocked the sun from her again.
She glanced back at the grave, studying Grayson’s likeness. “You’re okay with this?”
Emmy felt the same warmth inside of her. She didn’t understand how Grayson knew and approved, but he did. He’d always put her happiness first. She knew he’d want her to be happy. “I just feel so guilty.” She stopped talking, something inside telling her that the guilt wasn’t what Grayson wanted. A laugh bubbled up in her throat. He loved her as much now as he had when he was alive. He loved her enough he was giving her his blessing to move on, to find happiness. With Josh.
She bent down and kissed his picture on the gravestone. “Thank you, love. You’ll always be my first.”
23
THE DOORBELL RANG. Emmy wasn’t expecting anyone, and she felt the familiar clutch in her abdomen. Why did she have to be terrified all the time? Why couldn’t the police find the guy?
The doorbell rang again.
She picked her phone off the counter and cautiously approached the front door. She knew it wasn’t Josh, as she’d told him she would bring dinner to his house. She’d been grating some parmesan to put on the chicken and mushroom baked pasta. She could hardly wait to take the food over and tell him about her experience at the cemetery this afternoon. She got chills just imagining his reaction. She grinned. Good chills.
Double-checking the key pad by the front door she saw that the alarm system was on. If anything suspicious happened she could call 911 and hope the police, who always seemed to linger close by, would save her.
Peeking through the sidelight next to the wooden door, she expelled all her breath. “Shane,” she called out. “Just give me a second to disable the alarm.”
He smiled back through the glass and mouthed his thanks.
Emmy punched in the code, then twisted the deadbolt and pulled the door open. The sun setting behind her house cast shadows through the neighborhood.
“Hello, Emmy,” Shane offered in his soft voice. “I wanted to talk to you about some ideas I had with the stage.”
Emmy nodded. He was such a nice person, and she’d turned him down so often she didn’t want to refuse him now. “Sure, come in.” She held the door as he shuffled past. She glanced around for any of the police cars that constantly patrolled her street, but none were visible.
Shane hovered behind her, and she slowly pushed the door shut.
“I hope it’s okay I came to your house. I was just so excited about the idea.”
“Sure. Do you want to sit down?”
He walked slowly to the living room, perching on the edge of the couch. Emmy sat in the overstuffed chair and watched him, hoping he wouldn’t be too long so she could finish dinner and get to Josh.
“I think I have a way to do a platform that would raise and lower the Beast for different scenes. I’ll design it with a hydraulic lift. It would make such an impact, especially when we use smoke and some fireworks to add to his fearsome visage.” He rubbed at his short beard.
Emmy noticed he’d trimmed his hair. He looked really nice. “I love it. What a great idea.”
He puffed his chest out, grinning, but then his eyes fell to a picture of her and Grayson on the coffee table. He cleared his throat before rushing out the words, “Would you like to go to dinner and talk about some other ideas I have?”
Emmy bit her lip. “I’m sorry, but I already told you I’m involved with someone else.” She pointed to the mess in the kitchen. “I’m making dinner for him right now.” Hopefully he’d take the hint and go.
His face slackened. “Is it the firefighter?”
“Yes.” Emmy didn’t like the sad look in his eyes. Why did he have to keep asking and make her feel like the bully again and again? She stood. “I really love your idea. Thank you for always working so hard for the theater.”
Shane covered the distance separating them and grasped her arm, drawing her closer. “You don’t understand, Emmy. I don’t do it for the theater, I do it for you!”
Emmy’s breath quickened. Her phone was on the entryway table. She wanted it in her hand right now. Panic tightened every muscle. “Shane, you’re hurting me. Let go of my arm.”
He looked down at his fingers on her arm. “Oh, I’m sorry.” He released her. “I just really want a chance with you.”
Emmy stared into his eyes. They were an odd dark gray, almost black. She’d never noticed. “Shane. You need to stop pursuing me. You’re a very nice person and I’m sure someday you’ll find someone who will be perfect for you.”
Shane shook his head and moved closer, towering over her. “But I want you.”
Emmy needed to run. She kept breathing in and out to stay calm and wait for the right opportunity. Why was Shane acting like this? Was he the one who had sent the notes and killed Grayson? It would have been so easy for him working behind the scenes at the theater to slip the notes in at different times. The
police had cleared him after the murder, but she knew Shane was smart. Had he outsmarted all of them? Her heart thumped against her rib cage. She gripped the couch for support as her thoughts turned desperate. How was she going to escape?
Someone pounded on the front door and shouted, “Emmy! Open up!”
Emmy scurried around Shane, who looked like a lost puppy in a rainstorm, and hurried to the front door. She flung it open, praying it was Josh.
“Timothy?”
His dark eyes glinted dangerously as he strode in and pushed her behind him, shutting the door with his other hand. “Did he hurt you?”
“No.” She shook her head, relieved and confused. “How did you know to come?”
“I’ve been wondering if he was the murderer and I followed him tonight.”
Shane hadn’t moved from the living room. He stared at the two of them as if in a daze. Timothy kept his voice low, his arm in front of her as if shielding her. “He killed Grayson, and I just found Josh … he’s dead.”
Emmy sagged against Timothy’s back. “No.” Everything darkened as happiness was sucked from her life.
“I knew Shane was interested in you. I wondered if he might be the murderer. I started tracking him. I got to Josh’s just as his car pulled away. I’m so sorry.”
“No!” He’d taken Grayson. He couldn’t take Josh.
Her vision clouded. The room swayed. Sadness consumed her but was quickly replaced by fury. The anger built within Emmy until she wanted to explode. She ducked under Timothy’s arm and flew across the wooden floor. She went after Shane with both fists, banging against his face. “How could you? How could you?”
Shane grabbed at her arms to protect himself. “What did I do?”
Timothy came from behind, wrapping his gloved hands around her and pulling her several steps away. “Stay away from her,” he commanded Shane.
Shane moved toward them. “You’re the one who should stay away from her.”
Timothy shoved Emmy to the ground, yanked a black pistol from his jacket pocket, and fired. Shane slammed against the back of the couch and slid to his knees. His face filled with shock as his hand went to the blood stain blossoming on his chest. He whispered, “Emmy,” and slumped over.
“Shane!” Emmy screamed. She crawled to him, feeling for a sign of life. Blood streamed down his shirt. He still had a pulse, but it was faint. She looked up at Timothy. “You shot him!”
He stared down at her like she was nuts. “He killed your husband, Emmy. He killed Josh. He was coming after you. It was self-defense.”
Emmy’s breath came hard and fast. She couldn’t think straight. Josh couldn’t really be dead. Timothy couldn’t have just shot Shane. She needed help. She needed Josh. Wouldn’t she feel it if he was gone? A sob wrenched from her chest. Probably not. She’d had no clue when Grayson died. Shadows pressed in on her. Her entire world was crumbling. She had no one. Nothing. She’d barely started to heal from Grayson’s death. She would never heal from Josh’s.
Timothy lifted her up and pressed her head into his chest. “It’s okay, love. I’ll take care of everything.”
Emmy shook her head in confusion. This was Timothy. Her friend. Why was he calling her “love”? How could he have just shot Shane?
“I’m going to call the police and they will take care of everything. Stay here while I go check on Josh.”
“Stay here?”
“Listen to me. I know you were developing feelings for Josh. I don’t want you to see …”
The tears slid out then. She trembled and tried to swallow away the dryness in her throat and the aching emptiness in her heart.
“I’m so sorry he did this to you, but I’ll take care of everything, my love.”
Emmy stared up at him. “Why do you keep saying that? You said I was like a sister to you.”
Timothy smiled gently, brushing a lock of hair from her face with a gloved finger. “I lied. I knew you were falling for Josh, and I didn’t want to get in the way of your happiness. I didn’t know that Shane was the murderer, but now he’s killed Josh and I want to take care of you, see if you can develop feelings for me.”
He released her and set her on a barstool. “Wait here. I’ve got to get a hold of the police and check on … I’ll be right back. I promise.”
Emmy blinked back the tears that still wanted to surface. She didn’t want to sit here and wait. She wanted to run to Josh’s house and discover that somehow he’d survived. But could she handle seeing him cut apart like Grayson? She sat in a daze, staring at Shane’s inert form as Timothy hurried out the front door. Her mind couldn’t grasp it all. Shane, a murderer, dying in her living room? Josh dead? She pressed a fist to her mouth to hold back the sob.
A groan came from the living room. She glanced at Shane slumped over to the side, blood dripping from his wound. Creeping to his side, she checked his pulse one more time. It was still there.
She hated him for killing the men she loved, but she couldn’t just leave him and hope the EMTs got here soon enough to help. She grabbed a clean kitchen towel and pressed it into the wound on his chest.
“Emmy,” he whispered. His eyes opened slightly.
She jumped and scuttled away from him.
“I didn’t … kill Grayson.” He gasped for air. “Or Josh.” His eyes closed and he breathed irregularly, the air sounding like a bag of marbles being shaken.
Emmy stared at him. Was he lying? Could Josh still be alive? She stood and grabbed the cordless off her counter. No dial tone. What in the world? She ran to the entryway to get her cell. It was gone.
Emmy glanced back at Shane, shaking her head in confusion. She looked at the front door. Where was Timothy? She ran to the garage and slipped her feet into some Bobs before jumping into the rental car. The keys were gone. Seriously! Timothy had to have taken her keys and her phone. Would he have cut the phone line too? Why? Because he wanted her to wait for him, or because …
The air sucked into her lungs, then exploded in a strangled scream. She shoved open the car door, pushed the garage button, and sprinted down the street toward Josh’s house.
24
JOSH SCRATCHED AT THE STITCHES on his abdomen. He’d stopped taking the pain meds, and the incisions seemed to throb with each heartbeat. He set down the book he was reading and strode to the bathroom. Running his hand over his three-day beard, he frowned. He looked awful. Emmy was bringing dinner at seven. He could shave and give himself a sponge bath so he wouldn’t smell like he’d been lying in bed for two days.
He smiled as he thought of how sweet she’d been when she brought dinner two nights ago and the way she’d stood up to her aunt yesterday afternoon. She was amazing. He knew it would be hard to move on and make everything work with her mourning over her husband and her distrust of their “sparks,” but he had a lot of hope that they could.
The doorbell rang. He grinned at the thought that Emmy might be early, then grimaced. Quickly splashing some water on his face and brushing his teeth, he grabbed a clean shirt from his room, tugged it carefully over his stitches, and hurried to the living room.
He opened the door and stared at a tall man on his porch. It was the guy who acted with Emmy.
“Hi, we’ve never been properly introduced. Timothy White. I perform with Emmy.” He gave him a friendly smile but oddly kept his hands in the pockets of his jackets.
Josh nodded. “Josh Campbell.”
“Can I come in? I’m concerned about Emmy, and I know you care about her. I wondered if we could talk.”
“Sure.” Josh stepped back. Timothy sauntered into the house. Josh closed the door, wondering what in the world this man wanted to tell him about Emmy.
q
Emmy ran like she’d never run in her life. She saw an old man out watering his gardenias. She stopped long enough to scream at him, “Call 911! There’s a man who’s been shot at 250 Nebesna Street. Then tell them to go to Josh Campbell’s house.”
Emmy gasped for air as the man stared a
t her for a second, then repeated, “250 Nebesna?”
“And Josh Campbell.”
He nodded and turned toward his house.
Emmy took off at a sprint again. If her instincts were right, she had no time to wait for the police. She just prayed the man would remember the address and name. Hopefully the ambulance could get to Shane before he bled out and she could get to Josh before Timothy killed him.
25
JOSH STUDIED THE MAN SEATED a little too close to him on the couch. He was charismatic and friendly. He explained how happy he was to see Emmy in love again but he was worried because she was overworking herself. He hoped Josh would help her see reason and turn some of the burden of the theater over to him. It was all very thoughtful of the guy, but why did his eyes keep wandering to the picture window, and why didn’t he take his hands out of his pockets?
The only thing they knew about the murderer was he was tall and had dark eyes. Timothy was close to Josh’s own six-two. Could this man who appeared so concerned be the one who sliced Josh open the other night? The police had cleared the theater crowd last year, but Timothy could’ve been smart enough to hide the evidence.
Josh stood and walked a few steps away. “You know, I’d love to talk to Emmy any time.” He grinned knowingly. If he was right about Timothy, the man was insanely jealous where Emmy was concerned and would lash out if he pushed far enough. “It might take some convincing, if you know what I mean.” He pumped his eyebrows. “But I’m sure I could help her see reason.”
Timothy’s mouth tightened. He stood, coming closer to Josh. “I’d appreciate that.” He gave Josh a forced smile.
The door burst open. Emmy flung herself into the room, her dark hair sticking up crazily and sweat pouring down her face as she screamed, “Josh!”
Shadows in the Curtain (Destination Billionaire Romance) Page 11
