by Hope White
Oddly enough, she didn’t feel as if she was in real danger. Was she being unrealistic? No, she had faith in Dane, faith that he was a good kid who’d been forced into a corner. But by whom?
“You called and asked for our help, Dane. Let me help you now.”
“I was playing you. I’m working for Henson.”
Another lie, but calling him out on it would only escalate the tension in the room.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said.
A tear escaped his right eye and trailed down his cheek. “This is your last chance. Give me the necklace!”
“You’re going to have to take it from me.”
He took a step forward, but she didn’t waver.
“I’m…sorry,” he croaked.
“I know. And I believe in you, Dane.”
“You shouldn’t!” He tossed the knife onto the kitchen table and raced out the back door. Julie automatically went after him, but having lived on the streets, he was fast and clever. She stood on the back porch, looking through the neighbor’s yard.
Dane was gone. And terrified.
Another piece of the puzzle. After all, the necklace wasn’t anything special, probably worth no more than twenty bucks.
Just then, a squad car pulled into the driveway. Morgan. How would she explain this situation to him? He’d want to arrest Dane for sure, and she didn’t want the boy to have another mark on his record.
As she went to greet the driver, she realized it wasn’t Morgan, but rather Deputy Chief Finnegan behind the wheel. Panic shuddered down her spine.
He got out of the car, wearing a concerned frown. “Where is Morgan?” Julie said.
“The chief wanted me to tell you he’s okay.”
“What happened?” She gripped the railing for support.
“He was following a suspicious car and was run off the road.”
SIXTEEN
The world tipped sideways as Julie struggled to stay calm and grounded.
“Take me to him,” she ordered, walking to the cruiser.
“He wants you to stay here. It’s obvious they’re in Port Whisper. He thinks you’ll be safer at home.”
“I’ll be safe with Morgan.” She got into the cruiser and waited.
Scott slid in behind the wheel and started up the car.
“Where is he, exactly?” she said.
“Doc Saunders’s office.”
“How badly is he hurt?”
“He’s got a cut across his forehead and he’s a little banged up, but otherwise okay.”
Okay, but run off the road. She fought back the image of Morgan stuck in a car while the bad guys drove off, or worse, approached the car to finish what they’d started.
The nightmare flashed across her mind. A gunshot. Morgan falling to his knees.
Dead.
Dread shot through her body at the thought of a world without Morgan, and that’s when she realized how much she still loved him. Not just the boy she’d watched sunrises with, but the honorable man he’d become. A man who’d opened her heart to God after it had been closed for so many years.
She couldn’t think about that now. She had to figure out a way to end this and keep Morgan safe from the mysterious Henson and whoever he worked for.
“Did they take X-rays?” she asked.
“Doc didn’t think it was necessary. I’m sure he’ll be okay. He’s a tough guy.”
Tough and tender. Yep, that was Morgan. In her eyes, he was perfect and he deserved a good life. She didn’t want him giving up his career in Port Whisper for her, and although her job had grown dangerous, the street kids needed her.
I would have been dead by now if I hadn’t met you.
Dane’s words. New worry whipped through her about where Dane was and why he’d wanted her necklace. Should she even tell Morgan? No, he needed to rest, to recover from his accident.
They pulled up to Doc Saunders’s office and she nearly jumped from the car before Scott put the cruiser in Park.
“Hang on,” he called after her, but she was already banging on the office door.
Doc Saunders opened the door and let her in. “Julie. Good to see you.”
“How’s Morgan?”
Morgan stepped out from an examining room and she steeled herself against the sight of the bandage across his forehead, and the way he clutched his arm to his midsection.
Scott walked in behind her.
“I told you to keep her at the house,” Morgan said in an angry tone.
“I tried,” Scott answered.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m fine.”
Tension stretched between them.
“Why don’t you two talk in the examining room?” Doc Saunders suggested.
Morgan went back into the room. Julie followed and shut the door. “I’m so sorry.”
“Stop, I don’t need your pity.”
“I think it’s called sympathy.”
“I don’t need that, either.” Morgan sat in a chair, not on the examining table, and winced.
“What can I do for you?” she said.
“Go back to the house where it’s safe.”
“I’m not leaving your side until—”
“Until what? This case is solved? We’re no closer to having answers than we were a week ago. You said it yourself. Face it, Jules, I’m not a good enough detective to get ahead of this thing. You’re better off going back to Seattle.”
“You’ve kept me safe for a whole week. Who knows what would have happened if I’d stayed there.”
He pinned her with blue-green eyes. “You would have contacted Ethan and he could have helped you. Instead, you come back here and we’re all chasing our tails like a pack of dogs.”
“Not true. Sketch flagged some questionable activity for—”
“Sketch. He’s a kid. Even a kid can do better than me.”
His words were laced with insecurity and doubt, his tone sounding much like that of an eighteen-year-old.
“What are you really upset about here, Morgan?”
“My own incompetence.”
She kneeled beside him and touched his thigh. “Is it incompetent to keep me and my mom safe? To keep your town running and chase down leads? You’ve done everything possible to solve this case.”
“But it’s not enough.” He pinned her again with his intense eyes. “Face it, Jules, I’m not enough.”
“Morgan, don’t—”
“Stop.” He stood and opened the door, went out into the main office and left her behind.
“Am I good to go?” she heard him ask the doctor.
Julie shifted onto the chair where Morgan had just been sitting and realization struck: he thought he’d failed her. From now on, whenever he looked into her eyes, he’d see his own failure there.
She couldn’t stand the thought of being a source of pain and self-loathing for Morgan. She needed to do the right thing.
And let him go.
As Scott drove them back to Dad’s house. Morgan could hardly look at Julie, he was so ashamed that he’d failed her once again. But what had he expected? As she’d pointed out, he was a small-town cop in a community where the biggest crime was petty vandalism.
Morgan couldn’t believe the perps got the jump on him, but then he wasn’t expecting a rear assault. He’d had the suspicious Ford in his sights when someone had slammed him from behind. Hard.
At least he’d called in the Ford’s plate number before the collision. One good move on Morgan’s part.
Scott dropped them off at Dad’s house. “Thanks, Scott.”
“Sure thing. I’ll call you when I get registration information on the Ford.”
He escorted Julie up the back steps and into the living room. Morgan flopped down on the couch.
“I’m glad Mom’s asleep.” She glanced upstairs. “By the way, Dane left.”
“Left? Where did he go?”
“I don’t know. He—” she hesitated “—just
left.”
She was leaving something out, he could tell. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“He tried to steal my locket.”
“What? Why?”
“I have no idea. He said he needed to sell it for drug money, but he didn’t demand my wallet or Mom’s. He was terrified, Morgan.”
Morgan sat up. “I should—”
“No.” She put her hands out. “Just let it go for tonight, okay?”
He flopped back against the couch. “You still believe in that kid, don’t you?”
“Yep. There are some things you just know…in your gut.”
Like how Morgan would never get this woman out of his system. Who was he kidding?
“Will you be okay?” she asked.
“Sure, the doc gave me pain meds. Should sleep like a baby.”
“I’ve been thinking, maybe it’s best if I head back to Seattle tomorrow.”
It felt as if someone had swung a baseball bat at his already bruised ribs. Sure, he’d been the one to suggest it an hour ago, but that was out of frustration.
“If you think that’s best,” he said, not looking at her.
“Do you?”
He glanced up, into her golden eyes, wanting to ask her to stay, to make a life with him. That would be selfish on his part.
“Considering we haven’t made any progress since you’ve been here? Yeah, I guess you’d be better off working with more experienced professionals. Get help from Ethan, or hire yourself a private investigator. E might know someone.”
Her gaze drifted down to the floor and she fingered the stair railing.
“Okay, well, sweet dreams.” She raced up the stairs, away from him.
Out of his life. Again.
Tossing and turning for hours, Julie glanced at the bedside clock. Four a.m. She couldn’t sleep, couldn’t stop thinking about Morgan.
He was letting her go. He thought it best if she left, which meant his feelings for her weren’t strong enough to keep her in Port Whisper, and he’d accepted the fact that she’d been selfish by bringing her troubles to the small town.
It would be hard to leave again, more like heartbreaking. Between falling for Morgan and relishing the warmth, the love of being around family and friends, she dreaded going back to her solitary life. But it was the right thing to do.
Her cell phone vibrated and she eyed the caller ID. She recognized William’s number. “William?”
“No, but how about a trade? His life for your files?”
She jackknifed in bed. “Who is this?”
“The name’s Henson.”
“Let me speak with him.” She gripped the phone.
“Julie?”
“William, are you—”
“Aren’t you tired of this game?” Henson said. “Being followed, threatened? Watching loved ones get hurt…because of you?”
“Let him go.”
“When I get your files. Meet us at six a.m., Timberlake Lighthouse.”
“It’s too isolated. I’ll meet you at Squamish Harbor, north dock, at seven.”
“You really think you’re in a position to negotiate?”
“Do you want the files or not?” She didn’t know where her sudden strength came from, but she embraced it. She’d been in enough negotiations to know if she gave everything up at the beginning, she’d come out the loser.
And probably end up dead.
“Seven at Squamish Harbor,” he confirmed. “Don’t tell anyone where you’re going or my associate will finish the job he started on your cop boyfriend.”
The line went dead.
Heart racing, she got dressed and fought back the panic in her gut. She considered telling someone. Morgan, or Scott? No, Henson demanded she come alone. An image flashed across her mind: Henson strangling William in front of her because she didn’t follow his orders.
She’d put everyone at risk by involving them in the first place. She needed to stop hiding behind family and friends.
And end this thing.
She grabbed her fleece and backpack and headed down-stairs, strategizing ways to get through this safe and unharmed. She’d negotiated a better meeting spot. That was a good start. Squamish Harbor, about an hour away, was relatively busy at seven in the morning with early risers headed out on their boats. Just in case Henson changed his mind about doing her harm, she made sure she had her pepper spray.
As she stepped onto the first floor, she froze at the sight of Morgan, fast asleep, his arm protectively stretched across bruised ribs. He looked peaceful and fragile, and she ached to walk over and spread the blanket across his body. She couldn’t risk it. It would be too tempting to kiss him one last time.
“I love you, Morgan,” she whispered. Even if he was asleep, she wanted those three words to be the last thing she said to him. After all, there was always the chance she wasn’t going to come out of this alive. She shook off the thought and headed into the kitchen where she found Mom’s car keys in a ceramic bowl.
In case attempting to save William was the last thing she did on this earth…
She pulled a piece of scrap paper from a top drawer and wrote the words down just in case they didn’t register in Morgan’s subconscious. She folded the paper and wrote his name across it.
No matter what happened next, he needed to know that she loved him.
She pulled the door closed and touched the glass, imagining Morgan, Mom, Lana, Ashley and Sketch seated around the dinner table, laughing, joking. With a deep breath, she turned and headed for Mom’s car. She was doing this for them. Her family.
God, please keep them safe.
Morgan awakened with a start, glancing around the room to get his bearings.
I love you, Morgan.
Julie’s voice. Great, now he was dreaming about her. Of course he was, by this time tomorrow she’d be nothing but a dream, a distant memory.
That would tear him apart for months to come.
He sat up and groaned. Fighting back the pain of bruised ribs, he went into the kitchen for a glass of water. He flipped on the light and spotted a note on the counter. Julie’s handwriting. He couldn’t bring himself to open it, so he shoved it into his jacket pocket.
He placed his glass in the sink and headed back to the couch. If only he could stop thinking about her and get a few more hours of sleep.
Closing his eyes, her tender smile filled his mind.
Thump, thump.
Morgan sat up, waited, trying to determine where the sound was coming from.
Thump, thump, thump. The back porch.
He pulled his firearm out of its holster and crept through the living room. He poked his head around the corner, but didn’t see anyone on the other side of the door.
Thump, thump.
He whipped the door open and spotted Dane sprawled on his back, pounding on the porch with a closed fist.
“Dane?” Morgan shoved the gun into the back of his jeans and kneeled beside him. “What happened?”
“Miss Burns…you’ve got to stop her. It’s a trap.”
“Come on.” Morgan pulled Dane to his feet and noticed a bloodstain on his shirt.
“Who did this?”
“Henson,” he said, gasping for breath.
Morgan pulled out a dish towel and ran it under water. “Where are you hurt?”
“Forget about me.” He gripped Morgan’s hand as he tried to get a look at his wound. “You’ve got to stop her.”
“She’s fine, she’s…” Then Morgan remembered her note. He dropped the dish towel and raced up the stairs, adrenaline numbing his aches and pains.
He whipped open her door…
The bed was empty.
“Morgan?” Edith said, wandering into the hallway. “What’s all the ruckus?”
“Get dressed. I’m taking you to Caroline’s.”
“Where’s Julie?”
“In trouble. We’ve gotta go.”
Morgan pulled out his phone and called his deputy chief. “Scott
y, sorry to wake you. We’ve got a situation. Julie’s gone and Dane says it’s a trap. Meet me at the station.”
“Yes, sir.”
Morgan glanced at Julie’s mom, whose face paled with worry.
“I’m gonna get her back,” Morgan assured.
And this time he was never letting her go.
SEVENTEEN
Julie clung to her files and got out of the car, dread knotting her shoulder muscles. Feeling for the pepper spray in her pocket, she glanced to her left, where she could see the Squamish Police Department—she rememberedit from the time she and Morgan were questioned for being on the pier early in the morning. They’d gone out to watch the sunrise and had fallen asleep, being discovered by a patrolman starting his dayshift.
At 7:00 a.m. That’s why she picked this place. And this time.
She focused ahead and spotted two men standing at the end of the pier. Exposed, just as she’d planned. She felt safer being out in the open. As she walked down the pier, the planked wood creaked under her tennis shoes. She focused on William, the primary reason she was putting herself at risk.
It was the longest walk of her life, but it would be over soon. She’d toss the files at Henson and leave with William. In a perfect world.
Henson was short and stocky, wearing a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, and a leather jacket. William wore an overcoat, his arms behind his back. Henderson held on to one of them.
She stopped fifty feet away.
“Let William go,” she ordered. “The files?”
She waved them.
“Toss them and I’ll let him go.”
She took a few more steps and dropped them onto the wood planks. Henson motioned for William to walk to Julie. A sinking feeling settled low. This felt too easy.
She noticed a speedboat at the end of the dock. Henson had his getaway figured out. Now if she could only dream up an escape route for herself and William.
William approached her and Julie studied his face. He didn’t make eye contact, worrying her. What had Henson done to him?
“William, I’m so sorry.” She reached out and touched his arm.
“Me, too.” He grabbed her locket and yanked it off her neck. She stumbled back.
