Final Verdict

by Jessica R. Patch

  “I’ve thought about maybe hitting the beach sometime in the near future. Not as fun alone, though.” He turned his head, but she couldn’t see his eyes behind the sunglasses. Couldn’t read him. Was he implying he’d like to visit the beach with her?

  “No, they’re not.” Was she implying she’d go with him? This was ridiculous.

  They rode quietly. He seemed to be struggling with something. Couldn’t be the beach trip. She wasn’t going on vacation with a man who wasn’t her husband, and Beckett wasn’t that kind of guy anyway.

  They made their way to Hope Lake, where the water glistened under the sunshine. A few people were out taking strolls, walking dogs and having a good time.

  “So...I was thinking about Wilder’s offer the last couple of days. Since you’re my attorney for all intents and purposes, you can’t divulge any of this.” He slowed, then stopped. Aurora reined her horse in, too.

  She knew it. Knew he’d pondered it more than he’d let on, and with Wilder in town, it had been weighing on him. “Have you reconsidered the offer?”

  “Maybe. They help so many people. They go all over the world...even warm places.”

  Warm places. Sounded divine.

  “What do you think, Aurora? Should I go?” He wrapped the leather reins around his fingers, let them out and wrapped them again.

  He was asking her counsel? Her first instinct was to tell him no. To stay right here in Hope. The people needed him. He was honest and full of integrity, which was what a town needed in a sheriff, a leader. He was more than qualified. But she was being selfish. Keeping him here was like keeping her stuck in the inn. Caged. He needed to fly. To travel the world and put all of his experience and expertise to good use. Not to mention it might be too difficult seeing him every day and only in a sheriff’s capacity. Because no matter what she felt, their line of work and living in a small town was going to be the driving wedge between them.

  “When would you have to go?” she asked, trying to keep her voice from cracking. Her world without Beckett Marsh in it seemed bleak. Like the cloudy, rain-filled days she’d just experienced.

  “I’m talking hypothetically. But if I do take the job, I certainly wouldn’t go until you’re safe. Until we find who really killed Gus McGregor and who’s been attacking you. And I’d have to put some things in order personally, and professionally.” He licked his bottom lip. “But what do you think? Should I do it? Should I leave Hope?”

  To tell him not to go wouldn’t be right. Even if it was what she wanted. She couldn’t hold him back like she suspected his mother might be doing indirectly, either. Mrs. Marsh had been clear the day they’d had muffins that she enjoyed her son nearby and safer. Not to mention Beckett had kept Aurora from divulging the truth about where she was staying, thus protecting his mother.

  “Beckett, I think you are talented and skilled. No one is braver. No one is stronger. Smarter. You have all these amazing abilities and experience that you could be using all over the world. People need you. But you have to make that decision on your own.”

  He leaned across his horse and searched her eyes. “What people, Aurora? Who needs me?”

  Aurora fell into his gaze, her mouth turning dry, the feel of his soft fingertips on her chin turning her to a puddle. She needed him.

  “Aurora, I should tell you something. I’ve been... I don’t know how...but—” He inched toward her.

  Her breath hitched.

  Beckett Marsh was going to...to kiss her.

  And she wanted him to.

  Anticipation mingled with his woodsy scent and descended upon her as he continued his slow-moving mission to her lips, his gaze locked on hers, waiting for her protest at any moment.

  He wouldn’t get one from her.

  Aurora’s stomach dipped and a fever sprang in her chest.

  She closed her eyes as Beckett’s nose grazed hers.

  Crack!

  The horses whinnied and Aurora’s rose up on its hind legs, then shot forward, nearly knocking her from the saddle. She screeched, panic replacing that sweet, warm rush.

  Another gunshot echoed through the woods.

  Bark splintered from the tree she darted past. “Beckett!” she hollered, and tugged on the reins, but her horse continued to speed through the trees.

  * * *

  Beckett held tight as his horse reared, spooked from the gunfire. Aurora was already up ahead, her horse wildly running as she fought to get it in line, to no avail. The horse charged for the ravine.

  Sweat beaded around his upper lip and temples as he pitched forward and kicked the horse’s sides to move even faster. “Yah! Yah!” he boomed as he rode against the wind, moisture blowing from his eyes. He’d been riding since he was a kid. Aurora hadn’t been on a horse in ages, and he feared the horse might buck her.

  Another shot rang out. Where were they coming from? Sniper? Skilled gunman?

  If he hadn’t been terrified of Aurora getting bucked off, going over the side of the ravine or getting tossed and breaking her neck, he would have followed the sounds to try to track the shooter. He had experience.

  Up ahead, Aurora pleaded with her horse, but another shot fired and bark exploded over her head.

  Someone must be on higher ground, keeping himself concealed. He’d have to be on horseback, too, in order to keep up with how fast Beckett and Aurora were moving. But who?

  Beckett continued to race after her, gaining speed. He kept his head ducked as he galloped under bare tree branches. The edge of the ravine was now only a few feet ahead.

  “Beckett!” she called again.

  “Hang on, Aurora! Yah!” he hollered again until he finally made it to her side. “Grab the saddle horn and hang on.” No time to pull her onto his horse. He’d have to slow it this way. She obeyed his order and he snatched the reins on her horse with his left hand, keeping a grip on his own reins with the other. “Whoa!” He drew back with all he had, pulling the bit farther into the horse’s mouth. One more powerful tug and the horse slowed and then halted.

  Beckett scanned the tree line.

  Aurora’s face had paled, her eyes wide, hands shaking. He grabbed them and held tight. “Let’s get out of here. I don’t know where the shooter is.” Seemed like he’d been squeezing off rounds strategically, leading Aurora straight for the ravine.

  Beckett had promised her she was safe. He’d brought her out here to spend time with her, to test out her feelings, and he’d almost gotten her killed. He was off his game. She was messing with his head, his heart.

  Beckett led them under a dense covering of forest, keeping a hand on Aurora’s reins. Her hair had fallen from the signature knot she kept on the back of her neck. “Aurora, words can’t tell you how sorry I am. I promised you everything would be okay, and I failed,” he choked.

  “Beckett Marsh! What are you talking about? Bringing me out here was exactly what I needed. You sensed that. And I could have gone over the ravine, but I didn’t. Because you were here. You did protect me.”

  Is that what she called protection?

  “Still, I’m sorry.”

  “Well, don’t be.”

  When she kept silent, he turned toward her. The sweetness on her face. It was all he could do not to drag her off the horse and into his arms and go for that kiss again. He wasn’t sorry for attempting it, but it would have been a mistake in the end. And if he hadn’t been so swept up in her, he might have noticed someone watching. Aurora thought he was brave. Capable. He’d needed to hear that. It was what had sent him spiraling over into that kiss. A kiss she might have welcomed. The moment was over now.

  He had to stay laser sharp. Keep his eyes and ears open.

  “Are you thinking this could have been Trevor Russell?” Aurora asked, finally sounding more like her confident self.

  Good.
Back to business. Back to the investigation. “Yes. I’m also wondering if more is going on here. Every shot was right above your head or near you. Like whoever did it didn’t want to take you out with a bullet, but cause you to go over that ravine.”

  Aurora instinctively touched her throat. “But why?”

  Beckett had been mulling that over. “The clothes being shredded. The note and bloodstained gavel. It’s a game of cat and mouse.”

  Aurora’s lip quivered. “Why would someone play dangerous games with me? And what’s the end game?”

  Beckett didn’t want to voice the end game. “Trevor Russell isn’t sadistic. He wouldn’t toy with you like this. When I went after Parker Hill, I wanted him dead. I wanted revenge. Vengeance—it wasn’t a game.”

  She searched his eyes, as if begging for him to continue. He didn’t owe her the truth, but if something did develop between them, she’d deserve it. Might as well put it out there and see where it landed. “I’ve been fixating on what you said about me being the judge and jury—”

  “I had no right to say that, Beckett.”

  “But you were right and called me on it. Made me think.” Beckett had needed that kind of honesty, regardless of the fact she’d said it in the heat of the moment. People rarely put up a fight or told him the hard things. They were too intimidated, and Beckett didn’t mind because he rarely wanted to hear difficult truths. But not Aurora. She never backed down. “Sometimes, I think I am exactly that.”

  When God had seemingly failed Beckett with Meghan, and he’d seen an immense amount of needless bloodshed and tragedy, somewhere along the way, Beckett had assumed God’s role, as if he knew better than the Almighty. It’d taken Aurora chewing him up and spitting him out to see it.

  Aurora’s hands had stopped shaking, but she didn’t offer to take the reins back. Maybe, like Beckett, she was enjoying the closeness between them. “What do you mean you wanted revenge? What did you do?”

  Truth time. Ashamed to admit it but needing to confide in her he pushed back the nerves and carried Aurora back with him. To another time. Another Beckett.

  “Parker Hill is the man who was obsessed with Meghan. When he found out we were engaged, things escalated, but like I said before, he was the mayor’s son and he skirted the law. Once we were married, we had planned to move here, and I hoped that would be the end of him. Now, in hindsight, I think he’d have followed us anywhere.”

  Aurora shifted in the saddle but remained quiet.

  “I was offered a position with the Secret Service.” Turning down Washington had been hard. The thought had been exhilarating.

  “Wow, Beckett. Why didn’t you take it?”

  “I wanted to be closer to Mama. Be in a less dangerous job, give her some peace. Meghan accepted that and was fond of small towns—just ready to be out of hers after all that had transpired.”

  Aurora rubbed her lips together. “I see.”

  She was holding back. “You never clamp down on your opinions. Don’t start now, Counselor.”

  She opened her mouth. Closed it. “You’ve been trying to shield your mother from my situation. I respect you want to give her less anxiety and your current station allows for that...but I wonder...are you happy? Are you doing exactly what you want?”

  Was he? For the most part. “Yeah.”

  “Then why the hypothetical question earlier? If you’re content, then moving and accepting another offer would be a moot point. Seems to me, part of you longs to accept.” This right here was why she was the best attorney he’d ever met. She didn’t skim surfaces—she dug deep. But he wouldn’t admit the earlier conversation had been more about him digging for answers to how she felt about him than anything else. He might never know thanks to the shooter. “You’re right. I was just talking. Let’s drop it.” He needed to pay attention to their surroundings better.

  Her horse balked, ears twitching. Aurora’s sight darted around the woods.

  Beckett studied the perimeter, listened. “He’s not spooked. You can relax.” He’d worry for them both.

  They ducked under a low-hanging branch. Only about a mile now from Mitch Rydell’s ranch, out of the secluded woods. He never should have led her away from the public, but he’d wanted to be alone with her.

  “Beckett?” Aurora asked delicately. “We got sidetracked and you never finished telling me what happened to Parker Hill.”

  He’d been ready to divulge this several minutes ago. Now he wanted to hit the dusty trail. Would Aurora still call him brave, strong, skilled when she learned how far he’d fallen? He bit back the shame, gathered as much courage as he could muster and said a quick prayer that she wouldn’t think less of him.

  “If you don’t feel comfortable, Beckett, I understand.”

  He’d paused too long.

  “It’s not that, Aurora. I want to tell you. I’m not...proud of myself.”

  “You can trust me with your past.” The gentleness in her voice gave him a nudge.

  “When I thought he wasn’t going to get justice, I went into a blind rage. I became everything he was. Stalked him. Stayed outside the law to do it. And one night I approached him. He said some things about Meghan I didn’t like and the next thing I knew my hands were wrapped around his throat with no intention of releasing until he was dead.” He quaked from the memory. “Wilder suspected I’d gone off the edge. He followed me. Saved me from going too far. And he’d found the evidence needed to put Parker away for good. If I’d listened to him, helped him, I wouldn’t have almost murdered Parker and lost several months of my life in an obsessed blur.”

  She stared at her hands, the silence undid him, but he didn’t dare say a word.

  His chest tightened, leaving him short of breath. He had to know what she was thinking. He couldn’t bear it if she thought of him differently, but she deserved the truth and it had felt right telling her.

  Finally, her eyes met his. No contempt. No judgment. Not even a wrinkle of disappointment. But then Aurora was the least judgmental person he’d ever known. She was kind and considerate of everyone, even if she appeared standoffish upon a first impression. The glass was always half full, and that’s what made her excellent at her job.

  Unlike Beckett.

  Who saw everyone with some kind of automatic stain on their record.

  “Beckett, you’re a good man. You can’t let that one grievous act scar you. You can’t.”

  His pounding chest stilled. This woman was making him feel secure. Safe.

  “I know,” he murmured.

  “Thank you for trusting me, Beckett.”

  “Now you know why I think Trevor is still on the list and Oliver, too, but what about other enemies? Could it be Franco Renzetti?”

  Aurora slipped her bottom lip between her teeth. “He murdered Oliver’s son. He never came after me. Even after Severin died in prison, he never came. Why would he now? And toying with a person isn’t Franco’s MO. He’d just blow me up. Like he did Hayden Benard.”

  They crossed the pasture toward Mitch’s stables. “Well, so much for getting out for a little living.”

  “I think we’ve discovered there’s not going to be any life until we stop whoever’s after me.” Aurora’s lips turned south.

  “In case it is Franco, I’m going to give Wilder a call and have one of his guys nose around and see what ol’ Franco has been up to in Chicago.” Beckett released his hand on Aurora’s reins as they reached the stable. “Why Chicago? You hate the cold.”

  Aurora ran her fingers through the horse’s mane. “After Richie died, I didn’t feel like I had a purpose anymore. I mean the whole point of going into law was to free him. So when I was offered the opportunity, it came with a huge perk. I could take on pro bono cases. As many as I could maintain, along with the billable hours at the firm. If I couldn’t help Richie, I could
help others who couldn’t afford decent counsel. For three years I did that and carried all my other cases, too, several of them big and newsworthy. Severin wasn’t my first major client.”

  “Papers say you and he...”

  “We weren’t. Romantically involved. I admit he was charming and I believed him when he said he wasn’t involved in extortion. He said all the right things. His finances checked out. Everything was circumstantial. I thought he was branded a mobster because of his father, and I could relate. Being labeled a low-class nobody because my family was. He preyed on that.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Not as sorry as I am. I messed up cross-examining the detective, and I hate that. The cardinal rule is never ask a question you don’t know the answer to. I had no idea the detective had personal knowledge of Severin shaking down a store owner for protection money fifteen years prior when he’d been a patrol officer.”

  “He was never charged?”

  “Nope. So no record. But that testimony is what swayed the jury and put Severin away. Turns out he did deserve prison. Can’t say he deserved what happened to him on the inside.”

  “The hit? I believe I read that somewhere.” Beckett dismounted and helped Aurora, and they passed off their horses to one of Mitch’s stable hands.

  “Yes. Rival crime family.”

  All the more reason to have Wilder’s team look into Franco Renzetti.

  Aurora waved at Mitch Rydell. The two-dinners guy. Beckett needed to shove down the jealousy. Mitch was a nice guy. They made small talk a few minutes, Mitch never lingering too long on Aurora or flirting. Good. Beckett would hate to have to snuff him out.

  They rode back to the inn, conversation at a minimum and the tension a little higher. He hadn’t brought up the almost-kiss and neither had Aurora, but he’d been thinking about it. Had she?

  He locked the doors to the Tahoe and they entered the lobby. A man with salt-and-pepper hair and a suit that probably cost more than Beckett’s yearly salary stood by the desk. He made his way forward. “Aurora.”

  Beckett blocked his path to Aurora. If he wanted her, he’d have to plow through Beckett first. The expensive suit and cologne and demeanor—this guy could be on Franco Renzetti’s payroll.