Whispers Under a Southern Sky

by Joanne Rock

  Amy swiped more tears aside, focusing on the people who needed her. “Hunger is a welcome problem after what we’ve been fearing.”

  Following the outline of Sam’s broad shoulders on their way out of the woods, Bailey chattered about trying to keep Aiden quiet and worrying someone was following them. Amy listened with half an ear as Aiden’s cries grew more frantic.

  She kissed his downy head and knew Sam would take care of everything else tonight. She could go home since she didn’t really have a place here anyhow.

  It was time to finish the cabin renovation. Because Sam was going to have a lot of evidence against Jeremy Covington very soon. Once he picked up Patience, Amy had the feeling things would start to fall into place. Her sister would be okay to testify whether or not Amy was in town.

  Now that she’d made peace with her family, she needed to leave Heartache and let Sam move on with his life with his family.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  BAILEY SAT AT the dining room table at Mrs. Hasting’s house, a cooling cup of cocoa beside her. Wrapped in a warm blanket that Dawson’s foster mother had given her, she was flanked by her father on one side and her mother on the other—a minor miracle she would have never anticipated.

  But it seemed no matter how angry they remained with each other, they’d both been equally worried about her tonight. They’d arrived within minutes of one another, greeting her with hugs and tears. Yes, her father had shed tears for her safety. It was a moment Bailey would never forget.

  And during her debriefing about what had happened tonight, she’d also told the officer—and her parents—everything that had happened between her and J.D. The shoving. The shouting. The wrestling that had turned painful on two different occasions.

  When she was alone in those woods tonight, the need to share the truth seemed so simple and clear. Now a police report would be filed. A temporary restraining order was already in effect. And she felt like a boulder had been rolled off her back.

  “Mr. and Mrs. McCord, I will never be able to thank your daughter enough,” Sheriff Reyes told Bailey’s dad after the lady police officer finished taking Bailey’s statement. “She showed an incredible amount of presence of mind to keep my son safe today.”

  Bailey sipped from the mug of hot chocolate, letting the sweet warmth settle her nerves. The second wind she’d felt after the sheriff had found her was starting to fade, making her realize—and really, deeply appreciate—how very lucky she was to be safe right now. How lucky that tiny baby was, too. How would she have ever slept again if Aiden Reyes had been kidnapped on her watch?

  “I couldn’t be more proud,” her father was saying while her mother stroked a hand over Bailey’s hair in the middle of her back.

  “Bailey.” Her mom leaned closer to whisper in her ear. “Officer Marquette said we’re free to go. But I think someone else would like to speak to you.”

  Just outside the dining room, she noticed Dawson straddling a kitchen chair at the breakfast bar, scrolling through screens on his phone. His gaze darted toward her, long enough to make her heart skip a beat.

  “Is that okay?” She shouldered her way out of the blanket as she stood. “I mean, I don’t need to do anything else?”

  “We can leave anytime.” Her mom rose to her feet, too, slipping her arms into a heavy cardigan sweater. “And I’m so sorry if I pushed you to be with J.D.—”

  Bailey shook her head, unwilling to walk down the path of “what if” anymore. “It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault but his.” She kissed her mom’s cheek and lowered her voice. “I like this boy, Dawson. And I trust him.”

  “I’m glad for you, sweetheart. And so proud of the woman you are becoming.” She tugged lightly on the strings of Bailey’s hoodie. “Will you be okay to drive home, or do you want me to wait and give you a ride?”

  “I’ll be fine.” Saying good-night to both her parents, Bailey picked up her mug and walked out of the dining room to where Dawson sat.

  He shoved his phone aside on the butcher-block countertop while Mrs. Hasting led the two younger boys—Tucker and Nate—up the stairs for bath time.

  Leaving her and Dawson sort of alone. A few people from the sheriff’s department were still going in and out of the house through the backyard, loading equipment and talking on phones. But things were definitely winding down. Ms. Finley had left a long time ago and the sheriff had followed Bailey’s parents out the door with Aiden sleeping in his baby carrier.

  Dawson spun the counter stool beside him so that the seat faced her.

  He looked a little rumpled and still so handsome in a white T and jeans. His feet were bare where he rested them on the rung beneath the seat. She set her cocoa on the bar and lowered herself to the spot near him.

  “I told everyone,” she blurted. In a day that had seemed to last forever, she didn’t want to waste any time telling him what she needed him to know. “About J.D., that is. I told both my parents and the officer took a statement about it.”

  “That’s great, Bailey.” Dawson nodded slowly, his hazel eyes serious.

  They were both quiet for a long moment. The only sounds around them were the quiet swoosh of the dishwasher and the muted sound of conversation between the police officers in the backyard.

  “I thought you’d be...happier, somehow,” she said finally. “When we talked about this at my house you said—well, I thought—you liked me.”

  Well said, Bailey, she chided herself wryly. But her skill with words had dried up. She was all awkwardness and jitters.

  He tipped his head just slightly to one side. For a moment, it made her think of the way Hazel looked at her when she didn’t understand something. He studied her intently as he closed the distance between them.

  Making her realize...

  He’s going to kiss me.

  The realization warmed her faster than the hot chocolate. And when his fingers brushed her cheek to tilt her chin toward him, it was the sweetest touch she could have ever imagined. Gentle. Caring. Sincere.

  His lips brushed hers, melting her insides until she thought she might slide right off the seat.

  When he eased back, it took her a moment to pull her eyelids open again. He still stared at her intently, but the serious expression on his face had eased. His fingers were still curved around her cheek, his thumb stroking her jaw.

  “I do like you, Bailey. So much that I was really scared today.” His words raked along a dry throat. “When Lorelei said you were missing—” He closed his eyes for a second. “I was ready to tear apart the woods myself to find you. But by the time Lorelei and I got back here, Sheriff Reyes had found you and Aiden.”

  Her thoughts still stuck on the kiss and what it had done to her insides, Bailey leaned into his touch, liking everything about this boy.

  “I figured I’d be safer in the woods than in the house.”

  “You’re smart and brave.” One side of his mouth curved in a half smile. “But I really hope you never scare me like that again.”

  “Maybe you should start babysitting with me,” she suggested. “Then you could be sure I was...you know, safe.”

  “You think the sheriff would mind?” He smoothed a hand down her hair, and she wondered how the worst day of her life could have the nicest ending imaginable.

  “We probably couldn’t kiss on the job.” That would be okay, though. She liked just talking to him. Looking at him was also really nice. Everything about Dawson made her smile.

  “We can save the kissing for afterward,” he suggested. “I would be okay with that.”

  “Me, too.” Bailey leaned closer to him, so grateful he had come into her life when he did. So grateful he was staying. “But lucky for us, I’m not working right now.”

  * * *

  SAM HAD WORKED almost straight through the night afte
r Aiden was found, putting in a twenty-two-hour day before he fell into bed. Alone.

  Now, behind the wheel of his pickup and on his way into work again just a few hours later, he debated calling Amy again but decided against it for the same reasons as the night before. She might be sleeping. And after the way she’d had his back in that two-hour window that Aiden had been missing, he didn’t want to drag her away from well-deserved rest.

  She’d looked exhausted and upset when she’d told him she was heading home after they’d returned to the Hasting house yesterday. She’d offered to watch Aiden for him, but Sam had made new arrangements with Zach. Heather and Zach had promised to look after Aiden, and Clayton had said he’d make sure they were all safe. That gave Sam the chance to close the case.

  And he was so damn near to nailing every last crime on Jeremy Covington. Sam rolled down the window to let the cold fall air into the truck, hoping it would help revive him before the caffeine started working.

  Patience Wilkerson had been picked up for trying to break into his house. Between the arresting officers’ statement and—he hoped—fingerprints on the slingshot, she’d be in enough trouble to possibly give evidence against her boyfriend. If not—at least she was behind bars. Assaulting a cop would keep her away from Aiden for a long time.

  But Sam’s case against Covington had really tightened up when Tiffany McCord had called late last evening and promised to deliver both Kate Covington’s and Jeremy’s family computer files to the sheriff’s office today. Kate had confirmed that those records contained messages he’d sent to at least six known victims on a computer that previous police searches hadn’t unearthed.

  With those elements in place, he wouldn’t have to torment Covington’s victims by making them testify in court. He had a handful of depositions that established a pattern of crimes. And now he’d be able to prove solicitation. The evidence was solid. The conviction would help Heartache heal after the nightmare this case had brought into their midst.

  And Amy’s secrets could remain her own. But not just because Sam had more evidence now. He understood that the decision to testify or not was hers alone. Now that he’d gotten his own taste of soul-crushing fear, he no longer saw victim testimony as black-and-white. And he hoped that would make him a better, more empathetic cop.

  More important, he hoped it would make him a better man.

  As he drove down Main Street, he waved at Erin Finley, already at work on her storefront, sweeping off her walkway with a cup of coffee in hand. Lucky’s Grocer was quiet as he turned the corner, but a boy on a bicycle refilled the newspaper dispenser with the day’s stories.

  Parking the truck in the lot outside the town-hall building, he planned to review Bailey’s statement and make sure the restraining order against J.D. was extended for a long time.

  “Back already?” The town clerk smiled at him as he shoved open the outside door.

  The woman tended to put in her hours early, too.

  “Can’t stay away.” He looked forward to quieter months in Heartache soon.

  “I saw Kate Covington come in here earlier. She had a big box of files. She said she was going to be in later to give you a statement?”

  “Yes. After what happened yesterday, she’s been very helpful.” It was a relief to hear Kate had delivered on her promises. He had Jeremy Covington now; he could feel it.

  “Has it been noisy at your house with all the construction up the hill from you?” the woman—Delta—asked him. She was filing some papers and listening to the morning news on the radio, but she turned it down now as he got closer.

  “Not really.” He was curious how she knew about Amy’s renovations. “There’s a good bit of road between the Finley place and mine.”

  Although he had noticed a lot of trucks in and out of there lately. Between her own work and what she hired out, the cabin had probably come along quite a bit since he’d seen it last.

  After closing the filing cabinet, Delta rearranged photos of her grandchildren on her desk, and one of a baby caught his eye. He had that same snuggly seat for Aiden. Damn, but that made him smile. He’d nearly gone out of his mind when he’d found that empty crib the day before.

  “I wondered because Ms. Finley left me a phone message last night, asking if I could get the property inspectors over there as soon as possible. She must be making good progress.”

  It took a moment for the words to click into place. Amy wanted her inspection dates moved up.

  And she’d called about it last night. After the ordeal with Aiden and Bailey.

  Why would she do that? She’d been tired and a bit shaken when she’d left the Hastings’, but she’d said she was fine to go home alone. Why the sudden rush to be done with the renovation?

  He could think of only one reason. Amy was getting ready to leave town.

  “When did she want the inspections?” Sam rested a shoulder on the glass window looking into Delta’s office, trying to tell himself that Amy couldn’t just up and leave town with a big project under way.

  Delta shrugged, running a feather duster over a plastic plant as part of her morning tidying. “As soon as possible. But she has to know it takes time to arrange all that. She needs approval on the electric, the new roof she raised...a lot of things.”

  Amy wanted to get out of town as soon as possible.

  That was the only explanation. And it was happening over his dead body.

  “Delta, I just remembered some paperwork I forgot at home.” Plowing right back out the town-hall doors, he charged toward his truck. He was going to settle the Amy Finley business once and for all.

  * * *

  “THANK YOU FOR letting me come over so early.” Gabriella Chance settled onto one of the new counter stools. Amy had bought them to go around the new kitchen island that had taken the place of a former wall in the expanded hunting cabin.

  She was happy with the way the kitchen had come together. The creamy speckled granite and stainless-steel cooktop brought a sleek, industrial look to the home. The whole cabin now mingled rustic and modern in a way that pleased Amy’s aesthetic. She just hoped a new homeowner would love the way the place was coming together as much as she did.

  She flipped the switch on the coffeepot to brew some more and then settled into the molded leather seat next to the high school friend she hadn’t seen in a decade. Not since that night. She’d been surprised to get the text from Gabriella that morning—a message the other woman had sent the night before when she’d boarded a red-eye flight to Tennessee—asking if she could see her first thing in the morning.

  “You look great,” Amy told her honestly, trying to work up enthusiasm for the visit that would have made her happy any other time. But with the events of the day before still leaving her raw, she had to work at the conversation all the more. “West Coast life must agree with you.”

  “Getting my head on straight agreed with me is more like it. And it took a long time—I can tell you that much.” She gave Amy a crooked smile and smoothed her long, fine blond hair—the same hair that had been the envy of their whole class at Crestwood.

  Gabby was a lovely woman, but delicate in the way of fine china or a Victorian painting. She’d always had that kind of beauty—ethereal and otherworldly, her lashes so blond they were almost colorless. But Amy found after a decadelong struggle with her own self-esteem that she didn’t envy that brand of beauty so much anymore. She was okay with her blunt-cut copper hair and her average, ordinary features.

  She had other qualities that made her stand out.

  “Cheers to that.” Amy understood the sentiment perfectly. “It took me a while to get myself together, too, and I’m the happier for it.”

  Or she would be, once her heart understood that Sam had a life apart from her.

  “So you must think it’s strange of me to be in such a hurry to se
e you after all these years.” Gabriella played with a stack of bangles around one thin wrist, letting them clank gently against the new countertop. “But the truth is I would have visited sooner if I’d known where to find you.”

  “We both pulled a disappearing act, didn’t we?” Amy stood to retrieve mugs from the cabinet, glad she’d stocked the revamped kitchen with at least a few basics before going to bed the night before. The house was still in a state of dust and disrepair, but the kitchen and the new upstairs rooms were in good shape.

  “Yes. And I need to apologize for mine since I took Sam with me.” Gabriella stared at her across the kitchen. Did that unflinching gaze see how much just his name hurt her today?

  “Um.” Amy took her time pouring the coffee into two gray stoneware mugs. “That’s certainly nothing you need to apologize for. And it was years ago.”

  “I always felt bad about it, though. He adored you, and he dropped his whole life to rescue me and help Zach—to keep me safe.” She licked her pale lips. “I took a self-help seminar recently that demanded we own up to people we’d wronged, and I just— I wanted to say I’m sorry for that.”

  Any other day, Gabby’s words would have been easy to shrug off. But today she was having a hard time talking about Sam when she’d have to leave him soon. Again. She carried over the drinks and set them down in front of the stools.

  “Then I accept your apology, Gabriella, but I assure you it’s not necessary. Sam made his own choices.” The last few words stuck in her throat, but that had more to do with the present than the past.

  “But I had a crush on him.” Gabriella slid aside her coffee and turned to face Amy. Woman-to-woman. “Or at least I told myself I did in order to forget about someone else. Because Sam was the guy who saved me, so he was safe for me to crush on because I knew—my God, I always knew—you were the one he really cared about.”

  The open refrigerator door smacked Amy in the butt as she stood there with the creamer in her hand, confused. None of this even mattered now, did it? Except Gabriella seemed determined to get it off her chest. And Amy couldn’t help but be interested. It’d been years since she’d let herself think about that long-ago summer, and now—in the last two weeks—she’d seen it from so many new angles it made her head spin.