“Bobby had all the missing persons files pulled already. I can’t imagine it would be in the paper and not in the FBI files. Why are you so reluctant to loop them in right now? Are you honestly thinking you have to solve this yourself for some reason? Why is this so personal?”
“It’s not,” she lied. “I just don’t want someone screwing it up now that we have something.”
“Then let’s go there,” he offered, pointing at the lighthouse. “Come with me in the morning to the lighthouse, and we’ll go look around. I’ll be able to look through the library at the archived copies of the paper from those dates. We can show the picture around. If you want this bad enough, let’s do it together.”
Her eyes closed tight as the familiar wave of anxiety rolled from her toes, up her body, and to her tingling scalp. “You know that I can’t.”
“I’m not going to pressure you, I’m just saying if this is personal, and you won’t tell me why, I will help you track it down. I’ll be right there with you. No matter how scared you are, I’ll be there. The way this house makes you feel safe, I can be that for you no matter where we are.”
The words stole her breath, an audible gasp beyond her control. Her cheeks pinked with embarrassment at the idea of showing just how deeply his offer affected her. “Patrick—” she started but he cut her off.
“I know I’m coming on strong,” he said unapologetically. “Everything speeds up when I’m with you. Urgent. Like I’m always on the verge of losing you. Even though I don’t have you.”
“This should make me feel better,” Ruby said, tears trailing down her cheeks. “It’s only rational that having someone support me would make things easier.”
“But judging by the way you’re crying and the way you’re fidgeting your fingers that way you do,” he said, gesturing down at her hands, “you don’t look like you’re feeling better.”
“You know me,” she said, using the backs of her hands to wipe her eyes dry. “I appreciate that. I want to be able to go. I want you being there to be enough. It’s very hard for me to explain.”
“You don’t have to explain,” Patrick said, rushing toward her, misplaced guilt dancing across his face. “I’m not here to make things harder.”
“No,” she laughed, “I’m plenty good at doing that myself. No need for any help. You don’t have to deal with this, Patrick. Staying, trying to make me something worth staying for, is not fair to you.”
He pulled her gently to him and brushed her fallen bangs away from her face as he looked earnestly at her. “You don’t have to be perfect to deserve love.”
“Love?” she asked, the word catching in her throat.
“Any kind of love,” he corrected. “You don’t have to be perfect for people to want to stay with you.”
“I don’t know what I’m capable of anymore. Somewhere along the way I stopped trying to find out. Out past that door, up that hill, I don’t know who I am.”
“All I’m saying is, if you want to find out, I’ll be there.”
“And if I want to stay here?” she asked, knowing once she uttered the words there would be a shift in her world that would be hard to undo. “If I want to go upstairs, if I want to go to bed, will you be there, too?”
The shock on his face unsettled her until it washed into a playful smile. “I’m not sure I’ll make it upstairs,” he moaned, punctuating his words with a passionate kiss.
Ruby’s lips parted, hungry for the physical connection that could match the emotional gratitude and comfort Patrick induced. No other words passed between them as their bodies frantically fell to the couch and tangled together, clothes peeling away. Ruby’s tiny house, her tiny world, seemed suddenly split wide open, but she was too excited to be scared.
Chapter 13
Patrick woke before her, his arm numb from the cramped couch they’d somehow both managed to sleep on. Her hair was splayed across his chest, her leg wrapped around him. If he moved, which he desperately needed to do in order to get the multiple kinks out of his body, Ruby was sure to wake up. After a moment of staring down at her bare back, her silky skin, he gently tried to roll her to the side of the couch so he could get up.
“Huh,” she said with a start, pushing off him so quickly her nails scratched across his chest, leaving deep impressions. “Oh, I’m sorry.” She scrambled for the throw blanket on the back of the couch and pulled it sheepishly over her naked body.
“It’s all right,” he assured her, rubbing at the tender spot on his chest and smiling. “Last night,” he started, arching his back and stretching his tired muscles, “that was . . .”
“Yeah.” She blushed. “And thanks for what you said. I realized afterward I hadn’t properly thanked you for your offer to go with me.”
“I’d say that was a pretty good thank you.” He laughed, reaching for his pants and pulling them on. “The offer still stands if you change your mind.”
“I have,” she said, awkwardly adjusting the small blanket to make sure every inch of the softest parts of her were covered.
“You have what?” Patrick felt like he’d missed something.
“Changed my mind. I do want to go. Or I want to try to go.” She was nodding her head as though still subconsciously trying to convince herself she was capable.
“Oh!” he replied, far too enthusiastically. “I . . . uh, well . . . that’s great. What changed your mind?”
She blushed again, and the urge to cross the room, hold her, and have her again was powerful. It was easy to mistake Ruby for something fragile. To look at her and remember all the things she couldn’t do. But Patrick could see the fight she waged every day: the burden of being someone she didn’t want to be, yet still showing up in her own life every morning. She was about to wage her own war, fight the invisible beast that haunted her, and it inspired him to a degree he couldn’t articulate. To know she wanted him to fight alongside her was an honor he wouldn’t take for granted.
“Last night changed my mind,” she admitted as her eyes flashed toward the floor. “Somewhere along the way I convinced myself alone feels better than trying. I am a very rational person about many things, and last night I couldn’t convince myself anymore. I can’t keep fighting between wanting to be alone and hating being lonely. Trying seems like a good place to start.”
“Trying,” he agreed, knowing his face was strained with a far too big smile. It wasn’t because he knew she’d succeed. Maybe they wouldn’t make it over the hill or down the street. But suddenly the idea of trying felt like plenty.
“Just us,” Ruby said, a shaking in her voice that reminded Patrick how much work this was for her. The hill outside looked like a mountain to her. “I’m not sure I can have an audience, even though I’m sure Piper and Bobby would be cool with it.”
“I understand,” Patrick assured her, nodding vigorously. “Just us.”
Chapter 14
Ruby’s knees were literally knocking together as she attempted to buckle herself in the passenger seat of Patrick’s car. Her fumbling hands couldn’t align the two pieces well enough, and she nearly gave up before his hand began to guide hers.
“Thanks,” she breathed out, already embarrassed by her transparent failures. “So I can tell you anytime I want to go back, and you promise not to fight with me about it?” she asked again.
“Yes,” Patrick assured her. “Any time.”
“Okay,” she said, nodding and folding her hands in her lap, squeezing them together until her knuckles were white and aching.
“You should know my gut instinct is to tell you to relax.” He chuckled. “I’m fighting that.”
“Good,” she said, forcing out a small laugh. “Because never in the history of the word has anyone ever relaxed just because someone else told them to. I think the opposite is actually true.”
“So what can we do that will distract you? Want to listen to music?” he asked, already flipping the radio on before she could answer. It was louder than anticipated and the thumping b
ass sent her hand flying to her heart. “Sorry,” he apologized, slapping it back off. “I was listening to some good tunes last night and forgot to turn it back down. No radio. Want to talk about something?”
“Like what?” she asked, her stomach somersaulting into her throat as they made their way down the six-mile road toward the town and the pier. The ocean was where it had begun, the first attack, and the first shock of panic was intimately tied to the sounds. The waves. The bells and clanking of boats. The triggers she couldn’t seem to overcome were mere minutes away from being reality.
“Stop!” she yelled, slapping a hand to the dashboard as Patrick hit the brakes firmly. “I know what’s over this hill. The line of trees will break up right at the top, and I’ll be able to see the water, maybe even the tallest masts of some of the boats.”
“And that’s a bad thing?” Patrick asked tentatively. “You don’t want to go toward the shoreline?”
“Right,” Ruby said, relieved the car wasn’t moving forward anymore.
“What is it about the water that makes you nervous? Maybe together we could . . .” Patrick clasped his hand to hers and squeezed it in an attempt to comfort her.
“No one wants this more than I do, Patrick.” Ruby breathed through fast-falling tears. “But I need to go back home.”
“What if—” Patrick began in a gentle voice that still grated deeply against her senses.
“Patrick, you promised.”
“You’re right,” he conceded, putting both hands on the steering wheel and gripping it firmly to ground himself. “I did promise that.”
The knock on her window stole her already labored breath. Piper’s large brown eyes stared at her through the glass, looking worried.
“You scared me,” Piper scolded as Ruby managed to roll the window down. “I went to your house this morning, and you weren’t there. I thought something happened to you.”
“We were trying something,” Patrick explained, giving Ruby time to wipe the tears away.
“Are you qualified for that?” Piper asked, sounding accusatory. “I don’t remember you talking about a degree in psychology.”
“I wanted him to,” Ruby assured her. “We found something, and Patrick and I were going to see if we could turn it into a more promising lead. I thought I could do it.”
“You can,” Patrick assured her, but it only added another hundred pounds to the weight on her chest.
“You are not helping,” Piper said, shooting him a dirty look. “Do you know what the scariest thing about mental illness is?”
“Uh . . .” Patrick opened his mouth to reply, then suddenly seemed to realize the question was not for him to answer.
Piper gripped the frame of the window tightly as she argued, “It’s the worry that you might be like this forever. What if every day for the rest of your life feels this way? That’s why there is a process, a step by step program for agoraphobics that entails a hell of a lot more than just getting in the car and driving them away from their safe zones. You’re being reckless, Patrick.”
“I told him I wanted to do this,” Ruby argued, wanting to shield Patrick from the blame being launched at him.
“I’m guessing it was after he asked you to,” Piper challenged, her brows shooting up high, her eyes opening wide and fixed on them.
“We’re going back now,” Patrick said, putting the car in gear. “Maybe it was a mistake.”
“You still need to take the pictures to Skyborough Beach. If you can identify that girl, you can crack the case wide open.” Ruby had her hand on the door, pushing Piper out of the way as it opened. “Go with him. He can explain on the way.”
Piper propped a hand on her hip and looked skeptically at both of them. “What are you going to do?”
“I’ll go back,” she said, trying to mask the sense of defeat she was feeling. “Bobby wants me to try to pinpoint film supply stores that may have been frequented by the killer. I’ll do that research and develop the rest of the film in the box. You guys find out who she is.” Ruby pointed to the photograph as she pulled it out of her shoulder bag and handed it to Piper.
The skepticism and bravado melted away as Piper leaned in and looked at the photograph. “The ring,” she said in astonishment.
“Yes.” Ruby was glad to finally be standing on some common ground again. “The lighthouse in the background is on Skyborough Beach. We were trying to go.”
“I’ll go,” Piper said, nodding vigorously as she hopped into the car. “Great job, Ruby.”
“Thanks. I still can’t believe there was actually something else in that box that could help. You and Bobby were right about that.”
“No,” Piper corrected, smiling widely. “Good job making it this far. I’d say you were almost four miles from your house. How long has it been since you’ve done that?”
She thought on it. “More than a year,” she admitted, sweat pooling on her palms and running down her neck.
“If you’re comfortable take my car back,” Piper suggested, tossing her the keys. “You should be really proud of yourself.”
“Thanks,” Ruby said, waving them off as Patrick stared down the road she couldn’t seem to travel. Invisible force field, polarized magnets, she didn’t know how to describe the power keeping her from moving forward. She wanted to be Patrick’s passenger. She wanted to be his partner. Instead she had a feeling she’d always be the thing he couldn’t fix, and he’d keep driving away without her.
Chapter 15
Silence never bothered Patrick. Normally he relished some quiet; it’s how he did his best thinking. Spending the morning with Piper was a test of that theory. His mind was buzzing with static rather than formulating any kind of helpful thoughts.
“You disagree with me?” Piper finally asked as they walked out of what felt like the hundredth small store that lined the main street of Skyborough.
“About?” Patrick asked, having to walk quickly to keep up with Piper.
“You being wrong today. Do you disagree with me?”
“Obviously,” Patrick scoffed. “I don’t do things I believe to be wrong. I was trying to help. I didn’t push her, and she wanted to try.”
“And why do you think that is?”
“Are you a full-fledged shrink, or what? Because spinning everything back to me as a question has to be something they teach you in school.”
“I certainly learned how to understand what deflecting looks like. You don’t want to admit that Ruby likely agreed to go because she could tell it’s what you wanted from her. She cares for you, and she wants to make you happy. But you’ll come to a tipping point where your happiness and hers intersect, and with her challenges, that could be explosive.”
“Great.” Patrick shrugged. “I’m not sure how that’s your business.”
“It’s not.” Piper nodded as they made their way back toward the lighthouse. “You don’t know me. I don’t really know Ruby, but I like good people to end up happy. You both seem like good people.”
“You’re basically saying we can’t ever find happiness together; the ideas are mutually exclusive. Forgive me for rejecting your advice.”
“I never said you couldn’t be happy together, I said you can’t do it this way. Adjust the sails, my friend, and maybe you’ll have a chance.”
“You give a lot of advice,” Patrick remarked, making sure it didn’t accidently sound like a compliment.
“I’m a nosy, intrusive woman who got all of her own advice from other nosy, intrusive women. They also saved my life on multiple occasions. I’m just doing my part and paying it forward.”
“Excuse me,” a winded woman called from behind them as she jogged to catch up. She was a tall woman whose curls were rigid and coiled, bouncing as she moved toward them. “Hold up a second,” she yelled, waving frantically at them.
Both Piper and Patrick stopped as the woman caught her breath. “Do you need something?” Patrick asked, still annoyed with Piper’s inflexible stance on him and Ruby.
“My uncle called me and said you two were showing a picture around and asking questions.” She brushed back her wild curls and smiled. “He was worried about me so he lied to you.”
“Why would he lie?” Piper asked, appraising the woman’s features.
“I’m in the pictures.” She blushed, gesturing down at the photographs. “He thought I might get in some kind of trouble, so he lied and said he didn’t know any of the girls. But I know I haven’t done anything wrong, so if I can help I’d like to.”
Piper handed over the stack of photographs and Patrick waited for a reaction. “Wow, these are old. I remember that summer.”
“This is you here?” Piper asked, pointing to the only dark-haired girl in the photograph. “Your curls give you away.”
“Yeah, I love them now, but as you can tell from back then I wasn’t sure how to tame the frizz. So what can I help with? We get a lot of tourists here but not a lot carrying around old pictures and asking questions.”
“My name is Patrick; this is Piper. We’re trying to identify this girl,” Patrick explained.
“I’m Amy Appleton,” she said, looking somberly at the photograph. “That’s Pacey, um, Pacey Steele I think that’s what her last name was. I didn’t know her well. Just the one summer she worked at my family’s restaurant. Is she in some kind of trouble?”
“We’re just looking for information right now,” Piper said casually, though Patrick’s blood was coursing through his body like a train. “So she didn’t live around here?”
“No,” Amy recalled. “She used to say she was just passing through. I remember being so jealous of her. I knew I’d be living on this beach working at this restaurant for the rest of my life. Pacey was a free spirit.”
Just For A Heartbeat (Piper Anderson Legacy Mystery Book 2) Page 8
