But happiness has never been in the cards for me permanently. As much as I want to believe this will last, his desire for me won’t fade, I’m a realist. With a tainted past, I’m damaged goods. I can’t move forward with my life until the contract killer has been caught. After that, I wonder if the passion will fade. Are we together now because of the danger and sense of urgency that it brings?
Once I’m safe and my life is my own, will Adam still want me?
I hold tightly to Adam’s hand as the truck rolls into the parking lot of Broomtown’s Methodist Church. I can’t remember Ike or Mark ever attending services, but I imagine it’s as good a place as any to hold a funeral. Plus it has the added benefit of holding well over two hundred people, many of whom are here to put on a show for the mayor. After all, someone has to step in and take Ike’s place as his right hand.
Today, the auditions for the new position will begin as the mayor searches the crowd for the person who grieves properly, yet isn’t too weak. The person he can control much more than he ever did Ike Metzger. There’s no doubt in my mind the mayor will change make his selection much more carefully this time around.
The engine idles, and I look to Adam and back to the door of the church. I don’t want to go in, but I will. This is it. A long journey is ending. My fingers tighten around his.
Using his left hand, he reaches over and shifts the truck into park then turns the key. We sit in silence for several long minutes, each of us lost in our own thoughts. People walk by, giving us curious glances, and even a nod or two once they recognize me. But there won’t be any other gestures of kindness. As Mark’s ex-girlfriend, I’m tainted. Ike Metzger made sure of that, and even though he’s dead, no one will dare step into the box he drew around me.
“It’s almost time.” Adam kisses my knuckles then releases my hand.
“Right.” The funeral starts at two. It’s five before now. I breathe in deeply, reaching for that courage that’s nestled somewhere near my knees.
Someone has propped open one of the double doors, allowing me a peek inside. I’m not surprised to see the pews filling up. To this community, Ike and Mark were legends. I can only imagine the outpouring of sorrow as these people didn’t know the Metzgers I knew.
Adam helps me out of the truck, his hands lingering on my waist as an offer of comfort. I give him a shaky smile, brush my hands down the front of my simple, black dress, and tuck my rectangular clutch close to my side.
“Ready?” He lets me make the choice to move forward.
I nod, and on stiff legs, climb the steps leading up to the entrance. We slide into one of the back pews just as the preacher steps up to the podium. A hush falls over the crowd when he begins to pray, but my mind doesn’t heed the call for silence.
As the minister speaks of the good deeds Ike and Mark performed in their lifetime, the many ways they helped the town, and how they served as beacons of hope, my insides churn. I grip the edges of the upholstered pew. It’s an effort to remain quiet, to not speak out against the ludicrous statements. I know the preacher is only doing his job, but I’m expecting a lightning strike to take out half the church.
The prayer is over, and the lengthy eulogy list begins. People I don’t recognize rave about Ike Metzger and his devotion to Broomtown while people I do know hail Mark as the town’s hero. By the time the praises are over, I’m shaking and sick to my stomach. And I sense Adam’s gaze on my face. He knows what I’m feeling and reaches across to place his hand on my knee.
The simple gesture brings tears to my eyes. It’s not the touch, but the offer of support that triggers the waterworks. Adam is here beside me when he’d rather be standing in front of a firing squad. And though I would have come alone, I’m grateful I didn’t have to.
Marcie Bower, who runs the town’s bakery, stands up to sing a hymn. Because I don’t want to look at the two side-by-side caskets, I let my gaze wander over the crowd. How many of these people are here because they’re relieved Ike wouldn’t be around to threaten them anymore? Would any of them admit it?
I should have felt guilty for the thought, but I feel nothing except the remaining illness in the pit of my stomach. No one’s death should be celebrated, but neither should they have used their lives to control and bully those around them. Maybe most of the residents didn’t even realize they were being moved around like pawns on a chessboard. It took me seven years to get out of my relationship with Mark, and these people didn’t have to live with him. It’s easier to ignore a poison when it’s not staring you in the face every day.
Six pallbearers wearing dark suits line up by the white casket. I don’t know if it’s Mark’s or Ike’s. I don’t guess it matters. Another contingent of men take hold of the silver casket, and Marcie segues into a mournful rendition of Beulah Land as the recessional begins.
I avert my eyes as the caskets are carried past me. My chest tightens, and the need to escape overwhelms me. I think about rushing out the doors and into the air awaiting me on the other side, but my legs won’t move. It’s as if they know I can’t run away yet. So I wait until the church is almost empty then I reach for Adam’s hand. And we walk out together just as we walked in.
And Jeremy Braddock is waiting for us just below the steps of the church. Bald-headed and burly, he was Mark’s best friend, and he’s always taken the role a little too seriously. I’ve lost count of the number of times he’s put his own safety and freedom at risk to protect Mark. It was never the other way around, though. Mark always looked out for himself and his father. He risked his neck for no one else.
Jeremy swivels as Adam and I descend the steps. “What in the hell are you doing here?”
Adam doesn’t like his tone and instantly puts himself in between me and Jeremy. “You might want to think about backing off.” The whip of anger in his voice doesn’t faze Mark’s best friend.
His face tinged pink, he points a finger at me. “I was talking to her.” Then he directs his dark eyes at Adam. “You need to get her out of here.”
“Jeremy,” I intervene before Adam goes into full protection mode. “I only came to say goodbye.”
“And you don’t think you did that when you left him?” His snarl is accompanied by a look that rakes me up and down as though checking my price.
Adam steps into his line of vision and breaks the contact. “Do you understand the meaning of back off, Braddock? Because you’re about to get your ass kicked.”
I place my hand on Adam’s arm to soothe him, but it has as much effect as petting a hungry coyote. “I had a good reason for leaving him, Jeremy, not that you would understand it. And it doesn’t matter now anyway. He was your friend, and I get that. But once upon a time, I loved him.” Adam tenses beside me. I’m sure it’s not something he wants to hear. “Though that died a long time ago, I still felt the need to be here.”
Jeremy spat on the asphalt at my feet. “That’s what I think about your needs, Emily. You screwed him over and then got him killed. Hell, you got him and his father killed.”
Adam’s hands clench. “You have three seconds to walk away, Braddock.”
“Speaking of Ike and Mark, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about Mark’s contract, would you?” When the question slips out, both Adam and Jeremy are as surprised as I am. I didn’t think my brain was working well enough to make an attempt to glean information.
“What contract?” Jeremy’s apparent confusion is either a damned good act or genuine.
“Really, Jeremy? You expect me to believe Mark didn’t tell you anything about it? You were his best friend.”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” Jeremy lowers his voice to a snarl and leans as close to me as Adam will allow. “Now get the hell out of here before I start telling the town truth about you, Emily. I don’t think you’d want them to know the hell you put Mark through, how you ripped his heart out when you abandoned him. Folks wouldn’t take too kindly to that.”
Weariness coats my soul. I h
ave no desire to fight with him. He will believe what he wants to as will the town. And with so many people worshipping the ground Ike and Mark walked on, nothing I can say will change the majority opinion. “I’m sorry to see your loyalty still blinds you.”
He tries to reach around, but Adam locks his arm underneath his own and squeezes just enough for Jeremy to wince. “Touch her, and this church will be used for another funeral today.” There’s no mistaking the sincere promise in Adam’s voice.
“Just get that bitch out of here,” Jeremy mutters, his voice coated with pain.
Adam ratchets up his arm, and a deep groan breaks from Jeremy lips. “She has a name, Braddock, and the only reason I’m going to let you go right now is because she’s ready to leave this hillbilly town. But you listen closely. You come anywhere near here, step one foot across the county line into my town, your body won’t be found. Trust me.” With a smack against Jeremy’s shoulder, Adam releases him.
“You don’t play inside the lines. Good to know.” Jeremy massages his injury while sweeping his gaze up and down Adam’s long, lean form. “Unless I miss my guess, you ain’t an ordinary cop. I’ve been around enough to recognize a small towner. Guess Emily ain’t the only one with secrets.” He sneers and scrubs his upper lip. “But I like knowing who my enemies are, especially those who don’t put a lot of stock into their badge.”
“Listen to those instincts of yours, Braddock. They might just save your life.” Taking hold of my hand, Adam begins to lead me away.
We make it to the truck before we’re interrupted again. A short, square-faced man with a bad comb-over, positions himself by the passenger door, blocking Adam’s ability to open it.
I remember seeing this guy once, but I can’t think of his name. He’s wearing an ill-fitting suit and sporting a briefcase which he’s holding close to his body as though it contains nuclear codes. “Miss Jacobs, I’d like to talk to you if you have a moment.”
“We were just leaving.” Adam has exceeded the limits of his patience.
“It’s okay. We can spare a moment.” I give the man my attention. “Do I know you?”
“Oh, excuse me. I’m Garrett Hein, and I was the family attorney for the Metzgers.” He clears his throat while scratching his chin. “Perhaps we could talk in a more private place.”
“I don’t find that to be very wise in this town, Mr. Hein, but I’m willing to listen to whatever you have to say right here.”
His face reddens, but he doesn’t argue. “Very well. Mr. Metzger had outlined his last wishes clearly, and immediately after his funeral, he asked for his will to be read. He has requested your presence.”
“Oh for the love of…” Adam breaks off. “Enough of this, Emily. Metzger only wanted you there to torment you a little longer.”
“I agree with Adam. I’m sorry, Mr. Hein, but I won’t be able to attend.” I’m trying to read the lawyer’s face, but he’s expressionless, giving nothing away, even though I know he’s read the will, probably helped Ike put it together.
He sighs and taps his briefcase with two fingers. “It really is important, Miss Jacobs.”
“I’m sure Ike thought it was, but he has nothing I want, not that I think he left me anything. And he certainly has nothing more I want to hear.”
“Will you at least call me this afternoon? After the reading is over, I can discuss this in more detail.”
I don’t take the card he’s extending. “If I take that, I’d be lying. I’m not interested in the will or anything else in this town. I always intended this funeral to the last trip I make to Broomtown. Once I leave here, I won’t have a reason to return. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m going home.”
Another long-winded sigh escapes his thin lips. “I think you’ll regret this.”
Adam shifts into protector mode. “Is that a threat?”
The lawyer, whose head barely reaches Adam’s triceps, backs off instantly. “No, no. Certainly not. Just an observation.”
“Well, go observe somewhere else. We’re leaving now.” Adam yanks open the passenger door and gives the shorter man a threatening look.
“You’re still here,” Jeremy hollers from across the parking lot.
I climb up into the truck. Adam waits for me to secure my seatbelt before spinning around. I can’t see the look he gives Jeremy or what he may have whispered, but it’s enough to make Mark’s friend turn away.
Which tells me I need to have a conversation with Adam that involves a little more truth on his part. There’s a lot he hasn’t told me about himself. Jeremy had been right about him not being an ordinary cop, and I want to know what’s underneath that badge.
Chapter Three
“Thank God that’s over.” When I don’t respond, he looks at me. “You okay?” Adam switches the heat on full blast to take the bite out of the air inside the truck.
“As good as I can be, I guess.” I draw pictures on the frosted window with the tip of my finger. “You know, I realized when Jeremy was talking to you or confronting you, rather, that are a lot of things I don’t know about you.”
“Really?” He genuinely sounds surprised. So either he’s telling the truth, or he’s a damned good actor. Much like what I thought about Jeremy. I hate that I’m feeling so suspicious of him.
“Okay, maybe not a lot but certainly some.”
“I thought I was an open book.”
“Hardly.”
“If you want to know something about me, Emily, just ask.” The quiet tone has an edge to it, or maybe I’m imagining things.
I sigh and shake my head. “Here’s probably not the best place to have this conversation. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“But you did, and it’s obvious you have something on your mind you want to ask me. It’s not like we don’t have a lot of time between here and Juniper Springs.”
Now that he is so willing, I’m almost scared to ask. Instead, I tiptoe around the topic. “Plenty of time, maybe, but I’d rather talk face to face. It can wait.”
“If that’s what you want.” The smile he gives me is warm and easy. “Maybe when we—” A loud pop severs the rest of his sentence, and my gaze shoots to his face then to his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his fingertips are red.
The truck swerves wildly toward the center median then back toward the emergency lane. I grip the seat and hang on as Adam fights to keep the truck under control. The flap, flap, flap of the blown tire reverberates in my ear. I want to close my eyes, but I also don’t want to be caught off guard.
“Get down.” Adam barks the order as the truck careens off the asphalt and onto the grass.
I drop my head and cover it with my hands then I feel his body sheltering mine. The front end of the truck collides with something hard. Maybe a tree. Then there’s spitting and hissing coming from under the hood, and glass is everywhere by the time the truck stops rocking.
“Shit! Emily, are you okay?” Adam pulls back and gently lifts me. His gaze scans me like a radar. “You’re bleeding.” Two fingers brush against my forehead, and they’re shaking.
I reach up to grab his wrist. “I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not. Blood means you could be hurt somewhere else. Damnit!” He unlocks his seatbelt. “I have to get you to a hospital.”
“Adam.” I try to calm him, but he’s not listening. Finally, after several tries, I take hold of his face in both of my hands and force him to look at me. “I’m only bleeding because of the glass, and it’s only a scratch.” Maybe a little more, but he’s panicked enough. “You protected me from any other damage.”
He lets out a heavy breath that’s a little broken and touches his forehead to mine. “I’m gonna get this bastard.”
“Wh-what? What are you talking about? It was a blow-out.” I raise my head. “Right?”
“I wish that’s all it was. Someone took the tire out. I heard the pop of the rifle first.” He leans across me and bangs the glove box until it pops open. Inside is a handgun w
ith several boxes of ammo. After he takes them out, he lifts the speaker on the radio. “Chief 11 to base. Damn.” He changes the channel and tries again then looks at me. “The radio’s out. Must have been the hit. Get on your cell and call the station. Tell Gary we need a tow and back-up. We’re at mile marker 29.”
Once I pull my cellphone out of my clutch, I see him racking the slide on the gun. “What are you going to do?”
“I need to be outside the truck, Emily. We’re still a good forty-five minutes from Juniper Springs, and I don’t intend to be a sitting duck waiting for this bastard to sneak up on us.”
My hands shake, but I manage to connect to the police station. The line rings several times then goes to voice mail. “Gary isn’t answering.”
Adam curses, snatches the phone from my hand, and dials another number. “Where in the hell are you?” He barks once Gary answers. “Get on the horn and send a tow out to marker 29 then get out here. The sniper shot out a tire, and we took some damage. The radio’s gone. Maintain silence unless necessary. Forget it.” He hangs up while Gary is still babbling an apology.
“It isn’t his fault.” My teeth chatter, and I wrap my arms around my waist to keep myself warm. Without the heater, the interior of the truck falls prey to below freezing temperature.
“Here.” Adam reaches behind his seat and pulls out a thermal blanket. “Wrap this around you and stay in the truck.”
“Who’s going to watch your back?” The thought of him going out there alone makes me ill. “He could be waiting for you to get out, Adam.”
He leans in, kisses me fast and hard, and cracks open the door. “Which is why you need to stay inside. I know what I’m doing, Emily, but I can’t do it well if I’m worrying about you out in the open. I need you in here down on the floor.”
“You want me to hide while you’re out there in danger?” My voice squeaks.
“This is what I do. You’re not trained to watch my back. Now, please get down.”
Without even considering restraining myself, I grab hold of his arm and hold on as tightly as I can. “Promise me you won’t get hurt.” It’s a ridiculous request, but one I have to ask.
Being Lovers Page 3
