He kissed her forehead and retreated down the steps. She meant what she’d said. She never could’ve done this without him there for her every step of the way. They made excellent partners—well, he did, anyway. She hadn’t brought much to the table so far.
But having lived with lies for ten years, she could act her way through this. No tears allowed. She’d deal with her emotions later.
Moving to the window, she turned the plastic cylinder attached to the blinds and sunlight pushed through the slats. Dust flecks whirled through the air. The sight of her old room made her heart ache with amazement. Grandpa could’ve packed all her things into boxes. Instead, he’d kept everything the same, as if time had stopped the day she’d walked out of the house.
She grinned at the faded posters she’d tacked to the wall, with rock stars from Guns ‘N Roses and Skid Row, her hair-band favorites back in the day, staring at her with careless scowls like they were too cool for the camera taking their picture. Then she’d gone through a hippy phase. A seamstress had helped Marissa sew tie-dyed curtains for her room. A simulated concert poster of Jim Morrison hung above her stuffed animal collection, crowding the wicker bowl chair with the shiny fabric.
There on the wall over her bed hung a watercolor picture she’d “painted” of Kermit the Frog holding a banjo. And on the night stand, a pastel rendition of her at twelve years old sat in its cheap gold frame. The summer between sixth and seventh grade, Grandpa had paid one of the town’s resident artists to give her lessons. Marissa had come away without a speck of artistic talent, deciding she was better with a pen than a paintbrush. But Grandpa had liked and kept the picture the artist had drawn of her.
Walking over to her dresser, she carefully she opened her old jewelry box. The dancing ballerina twirled and music drifted up, as though someone had just wound the crank at the bottom. She curved her fingers against her mouth, biting down on one knuckle.
I love you, Grandpa. Thank you for not forgetting me.
Jaw clenched against a tide of emotion, she picked through each of the bedrooms upstairs, selecting a few trinkets here and there. Things others would pass over or leave behind assuming they held no worth. When they meant the world to her.
She unhooked the plaques from the wall, specially carved woodwork displaying her grandfather’s medals of honor, his feats of heroism. Plus the collection of arrowheads he and his cousin had uncovered during their youthful, daring trips into uncharted Native American desert territory. A true adventurer.
What she couldn’t locate were photo albums. Maybe the basement?
She set one of the trains going around its track, smiling at the sound of the mechanized wheels and miniature steam whistle. Sure enough, there in the corner next to a dusty old stereo, she found the albums. She decided to look through them later.
Her mission was complete. She’d located everything she had hoped to find and bring home with her.
If she’d had years to go through his things, instead of an hour, she couldn’t imagine sorting through everything, trying to decide what to take, what he might’ve wanted her to have. In a way, she appreciated the effort June the appraiser had put into the estate sale. The woman’s organizing had made this experience so much easier.
Marissa gathered a few final keepsakes that June had spread on the tables in the lower family room.
As she headed back up to the living room where Adam sat with the lawyer, she slowed on the stairs and eavesdropped on their conversation.
“I don’t like the way those guys are harassing everyone who comes near the house,” the lawyer said. “I can’t tell what their purpose is.”
“Nothing good,” Adam confirmed. “I know guys like that, dealt with plenty of them as a bounty hunter in Vegas.”
“A bounty hunter? Interesting.” The lawyer sat back in the blue armchair near the big bay window. “Then you have experience dealing with men like them.”
Adam cracked his knuckles. “Plenty.”
“Since you’re a relation of Mr. Tate’s, would you mind staying through the sale? I’d appreciate an extra man here to…keep things in line. If you know what I mean.”
“Be the muscle in case Butcher’s crew starts shit? Yeah, I can do that.”
Relief showed in the man’s narrow features. “Thank you.”
“First I’m going to drop my girl off back at the motel, before people pour in here. I don’t want her to be around if fur and feathers—or leather—start flying.”
The lawyer chuckled. “Certainly. Can’t blame you there. With those men circling, I wouldn’t want anyone I care about in the vicinity.”
“So you have no idea what they’re doing or why they’re here?” Adam pressed.
“None. Although Bill did warn me people of their caliber might return.”
“He did?” Adam sounded surprised. “What else did he tell you about them?”
The lawyer tapped his fingertips together. “I can’t say. Client confidentiality applies. Rest assured I’m on Mr. Tate’s side, if that’s your concern.”
“Good to know. I’m glad we cleared that up. Me and some of the locals weren’t sure if you had a stake in the results of the sale or the auctions.”
“No stake, as far as the outcome. He paid me in advance for my presence and services here, overseeing matters regarding his legacy.”
“Did he have a will?”
“I’m not able to disclose that information.”
“Right. Confidentiality.” Adam sounded vaguely annoyed but accepting of the scenario.
Pleased her grandfather had had the foresight to hire legal counsel, she felt less uncertain about his final wishes being met. He’d taken care of everything, so she didn’t have to and potentially expose her cover to honor his memory. She sent a silent prayer of thanks heavenward.
“I found a few more things you’d mentioned on the list,” she told Adam, walking into the living room to join them. “I think we have everything we—you—came for, sweetie.”
“Thanks, sugar. You’ve been a huge help so I could spend time with the lawyer. You ready to head back to the motel?”
She shrugged. “Sure. Unless you want to take a final pass, to make sure I missed anything.”
“Oh, that reminds me,” the lawyer said, reaching into his briefcase. He stood and handed Adam a small purple pouch. Hardware clinked inside. “Bill requested I hang on to this, just in case a family member stepped forward to collect some of his belongings. And here you are, so I’m glad I can give this to you.”
Emptying the contents, a pair of cufflinks and Grandpa’s watch lay in Adam’s palm. “His watch,” Marissa exclaimed, happy to see it hadn’t gone to the grave with him. Then she realized her gaffe and made up a story. “Remember that picture you showed me, Adam? Of your uncle and Tate playing chess? He was wearing this watch in the photo.”
“Hey, you’re right.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Good eye, sugar.”
The lawyer peered at her intently, a watchful spark in his dark gaze. Heat prickled in her cheeks. Had she just revealed her secret?
Or did this man already know about her?
Had Grandpa told him she might return to pay her respects, despite the risks?
“I’m glad the items he valued will have a home with his relatives, where they belong.” The man stared at her as he spoke, not Adam. He knew something, but like the professional he was, he didn’t reveal the depth of his knowledge. Perhaps to protect her secret from Adam, as well?
“Thank you for giving Mr. Tate, and the family he left behind, peace of mind,” she said, hoping he caught her heartfelt expression.
The corners of his eyes crinkled in understanding. “It’s my pleasure, as well as my job. Bill Tate was a good man. It was an honor meeting him and getting to know him.” He smiled at her meaningfully. “And now his family.”
Motorcycles blared out front, and Adam’s expression darkened. “Time to go, Marissa.”
“Okay.” She waved at the lawyer then help
ed Adam gather the loaded paper bags June had provided. “Thanks for letting us in before the throngs.”
“Perhaps we’ll meet again,” he said with a tone of certainty that they would.
Had Grandpa left a personal message for his lawyer to give her in private? She would love that, she thought wistfully, glad she’d accidently let her guard down in front of the man.
Maybe she’d find the closure she’d been seeking after all. A few final words, like drops of golden light, she could hold on to and treasure in her heart. One last acknowledgment of their loving bond that no distance could sever.
“I’ll be back after I drop her off,” Adam said. The lawyer nodded, and they left the way they’d entered.
Adam handed her the keys to his truck after he parked. “I’m riding my bike back to the house. Keep the truck keys in case you need to run out for anything. Keep the door locked unless you hear my voice on the other side. And enjoy the photo albums. I’m sure you could use some time on your own.”
“I appreciate that. Thank you, Adam.”
“Now I get to go back to my old life of dealing with criminals and cutthroats. Sticking around for the sale might be useful. I’ll shadow Butcher and his crew, watch every move they make, everything they buy, and maybe find out why they came back, what they’re really after.”
“Good idea.” She nodded. “The lawyer might give you more insight, too.”
“I’m counting on it.” He carried the bag with the albums to their motel doorstep. He kissed her cheek and straddled his motorcycle. “Be safe.”
“I will. You, too.”
He gave her a salute, started his motorcycle and rode out of the parking lot in the direction of her old house. She stared at the albums at her feet and reached for the handle of the paper bag. Adam was right, she needed some time alone to process emotions and memories. She inserted the key, turned the knob.
The second she set foot in the room, she knew she wasn’t alone. Shockwaves ran through her. She gasped, dropped the bag to the floor. A familiar voice said, “Hello, Maria. It’s been far too long.”
CHAPTER 8
“H-how did you know it was me?” Marissa stumbled over her words.
“Come on, Maria. After all we’ve been through together, you think I’d let you sneak in and out of town before we talked?”
I thought I’d been careful. She’d thought wrong.
Doe-brown eyes regarded her. “You might want to close the door, Maria. Before anyone hears our conversation.”
Trembling at the sound of her real name, she shut and bolted the door. Her throat went dry and her nerves jangled. “How did you know?” she asked again.
The woman’s frown lines curved like parentheses around her smile. “No matter how much time passes, a girl will always recognize her best friend. I’ve missed you.”
Tears sprouted and spilled down Marissa’s cheeks. “I’ve missed you, too, Brittany.”
They met in a crushing hug in the center of the room.
“I didn’t think I had any tears left,” Marissa said.
“Aww, honey.” Brittany embraced her with a strong grip. “You look good, so pretty, so different. But still my best friend. The second I saw you come into the motel, I worried maybe you might want to leave our friendship in the past.”
“Why would you assume that?”
“You’ve really made something of yourself, done something with your life.” Brittany shrugged. “I haven’t changed at all.”
“Neither have I,” Marissa said. “Not in my heart. I’m still the same Maria, just using a different name to hide a lot of secrets. Was it my hair you noticed? I should’ve changed the style before I arrived, but there wasn’t time.”
“Girlfriend, I’d know your presence, your spirit, if someone made me blind, deaf and mute and set you in front of me. We had a special connection I’ve never forgotten, and never found again.”
“I know we did. Do you know how good that is to hear?” A sob of desperate relief racked Marissa’s chest. “I’ve never found someone like you either. Friendships are tough to come by when you have a pretend past. But you know me. God, I’ve missed you.”
“I’m happy you came back.” Brittany hugged her hard. “Even for a couple days. I can imagine what a rough decision it was, how Tate’s death must’ve affected you.”
Marissa nodded. “I came back a ghost. A phantom haunting my old life, my history with Grandpa Tate alive only in memories.” Dampness returned to her lashes. “I’m as nonexistent here as he is now.”
“We kept you alive in spirit. I promise you that, Maria.” Brittany’s husky cigarette voice soothed her immeasurably.
“Do we have time to catch up on everything?” Marissa asked, afraid her friend would have to dash off just after they reunited. The thought left her hollow.
“There’s only one thing to catch up on,” Brittany said. Warning flashed in her eyes. “Paul Butcher and his gang’s return.”
Marissa sobered and wiped her cheeks, preparing to face grim reality. “Do you know Butcher’s plans? I mean, why is he circling my grandfather’s house? Why does he seem more interested in that than the bar? Is there something he came back to get, or does he want to reclaim this place as his territory?”
“I wish I knew.” Brittany sat on the bed, and Marissa joined her. A sharp look stole into her friend’s eyes. “But I have a suspicion.”
Marissa gasped. “Do you think he expected me to return? Is he here searching for me?”
“There’s no telling what goes through that man’s twisted mind.” Brittany shook her head. “However, I recall Tate treading carefully around the gang, after you left and hid for testifying against them. He hated them, make no mistake, but he told me once the gang held something over him. Something that could ruin him if he dared to cross them. It spooked him, whatever it was…and your grandfather wasn’t a man who scared easy. I’m not even sure if he knew what dirt the MC would dig up to make him pay, but they mostly stayed out of each other’s way.”
“What could Butcher possibly hold over Grandpa? He’s as upright and salt-of-the-earth as they come.”
“Not sure, but everyone knows he would never want his properties to fall into their hands.”
Marissa swallowed. “Why else would the gang come back after so long? They want the properties because they want revenge. Grandpa would roll over in his grave if they claimed what had once been his.” She chewed on a fingernail. “Another thing. Why would Grandpa put up the properties for auction? Why not make a will and bequeath them to someone?”
Brittany stared at her steadily. “He was protecting you. If you came back to claim your inheritance, you’d paint a big fat target on your back. And Tate figured you’d return to honor his wishes, you were always loyal to a fault.”
“What about you?” Marissa blurted. “You were like a second granddaughter to him.”
“That would’ve painted a target on me, too. Tate was looking out for both us girls. You took the fall for me. Ames Gray and Butcher knew I’d witnessed their crime, I just never came forward.” Her chin trembled. “I’m sorry for that, Maria. I regret it every day. I’m sorry I let you testify alone.”
“One of us had to, it might as well have been me. In a way, I was ready to leave.” The lie nearly stuck in her throat. “I wanted to get out of town, this place had grown too small for me. I hated leaving Grandpa, though, and a new life in witness protection gave me the chance I was looking for.”
“Really?” Brittany clasped her hands around Marissa’s. “Are you sure?”
“Someone had to stick around and take care of Grandpa. I’m glad you stayed.”
“He, you—you both saved me. He was like a father to me, and you were my sister.” She looked away and stood, pacing the small room. When she passed the air conditioner, her bleach blonde hair wafted back from her shoulders. “I had it rough as a kid. He gave me kindness. He was a good man. A great man. I didn’t have many of those in my life.”
; Memories of the nights Brittany, bruised and occasionally black-eyed, had snuck out of her mom and step-dad’s trailer to spend the night under the safety of her roof flooded Marissa. “Grandpa Tate and I wanted to make sure you were safe.”
“He never stopped offering me a safe haven. I still work at the bar, you know. If you hadn’t brought me into the fold, I don’t know where I’d be today.” She shuddered. “I dread imagining.” She shook off her dark musings. “But you, I mean look at you! You started fresh and made it, like I always knew you would. You went on to a better life. That’s what made keeping all the secrets from that night bearable. You always were the brave one,” Brittany whispered.
Marissa shifted uncomfortably. She deserved no accolades.
After all, she’d left behind those she loved most to deal with the aftermath. “Was it bad, once I was gone? Did this place, the people, suffer?”
“Took about a year,” Brittany said with pain in her eyes, “to convince Butcher no one else would turn him in. Ames Gray was locked up for a good long time, and Butcher wasn’t interested in joining him.” She paused and glanced at Marissa. “You took all the suspicion with you. Even Tate convinced them you were dead to him, and the gang could trust him to keep their awful secrets safe.”
Marissa’s hands trembled.
“I’m sorry,” Brittan said in a rush. “That came out wrong. No one ever forgot you, or what you did, to keep the rest of us safe here.”
They were safe. I kept them safe, Marissa thought, humbled by the notion. What more could she have asked for? Nothing. Her forced seclusion became a small price to pay for the results. Ames Gray’s incarceration and the safety of those she loved made every lonely, sad, heartbreaking moment of the past ten years absolutely worth the sacrifice of leaving everything she’d known behind.
“I’m so glad,” Marissa whispered. “That’s all I ever wanted. To keep you and Grandpa safe.”
“You succeeded,” Brittany assured with a strong note of pride. “Sure, I went on to make my own stupid choices with Denny.”
“You stayed with him?”
The Billionaire's Dare (Book 4 - Billionaire Bodyguard Series) Page 13
