Just a Whisper Away

by Lauren Nichols

  He didn’t nod, but his assent was in his eyes. “Jillie was a runaway who never told us where she was from, or who her people were. As for my father—and I assume I had one since everyone on the planet does in one form or another— I don’t have a clue. Butcher, baker, candlestick maker. Tom, Dick or Harry. Could’ve been anyone. The point is, I’ll never know. What do you say to a kid when he comes home from school and asks who his grandparents are? Or what they did for a living? What do you say when he asks where his ancestors came from, or if he has a predisposition to certain illnesses? Do I tell him that I have no idea because his grandmother was a hooker who slept with half the county, and I can’t ask her for the answers because I don’t know if she’s living or dead?”

  Deeply moved, Abbie softened her voice. “I’m not sure. But your child would have a mother with parents and grandparents. And he’d have Betty and Carl. I’ve never met Carl, but I like Betty, and I doubt she would’ve picked a jerk for a husband.”

  “No, apparently being a jerk is my gift.” He paused to search her eyes. “Are we okay now?”

  Were they okay? That depended on his definition of the word. Her anger was gone, but the truth now had a strong foothold and she felt bruised inside. She sent him a wobbly smile. “Do you still want to have sex with me?”

  “With every breath in my body.”

  She felt the same. But there was no future with him, and she needed to stop this before she lost all respect for herself. “Sorry. No.”

  “Okay.”

  She felt a bittersweet ache in her chest when he pushed away from the doorway.

  “Will you be here in the morning?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you staying until Morgan comes back?”

  Dropping her gaze, Abbie studied her linked fingers. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  Releasing a lung-clearing sigh, Jace nodded and straightened. “All right. Sleep tight. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Stepping out of the shower, Jace toweled off, then strode naked across the loft to his bed, yanked back the covers and flopped down on the cool sheet. Anyone who thought a cold shower was a quick fix for racing thoughts and a throbbing libido had never met Abbie. Not that he was masochistic enough to put himself through that. Not with winter rearing its ugly head again.

  He flicked the button on his nightstand’s alarm clock, then shut off the lamp. What had she expected? Some grand gesture? Temporary lies? That wasn’t the way he operated. The one time he’d nearly said the words, Morgan had shown up and blown that thought out of his head. That was the memory he had to keep in mind, not the others that kept slipping in. The last time he’d let himself care, she’d walked. And with a fancy L.A. law practice, she’d walk again.

  Eyes accustomed to the darkness now, Jace watched the bobbing shadows on the wall, trees bending as winter returned just in time for the first day of spring.

  Just in time for Abbie’s return to Daddy’s house.

  He swore softly. He had to change her mind, convince her to stay until Morgan got back. Otherwise he’d be sipping coffee in his damn car all night again.

  Rolling to his feet, he turned the lamp back on and paged through the phone book. He was surprised a minute later when Glenn Frasier picked up at the Laurel Ridge Police Station.

  “Thought you worked days,” Jace said when he’d identified himself.

  “I’m on until eleven tonight,” Frasier returned. “Got trouble at your place?”

  “No—and believe me, I don’t mean to hound you. I just called to see if you or your guys have noticed any strange vehicles in the area lately.”

  “All the time, especially on the weekend. But most of them are camera-toting tourists looking for the best place to spot elk—and they’re all in a hurry. The bulls’ll be losing their horns soon.”

  Jace waited through his pause.

  “But no, we haven’t seen anything with California plates, or anyone answering Daniel Long’s description. If we had, I would’ve contacted you. Last I heard, the L.A. cops thought he was back in the city.”

  “I heard that, too,” Jace replied. “I’m just on edge tonight. Abbie will probably move back to her dad’s house tomorrow, and she’ll be alone for a few days. I’d appreciate it if—”

  “No problem. We’ll keep cruising by the house until Morgan gets back.”

  “Thanks, Glenn.”

  “Sure thing. That’s why you folks pay me the big bucks. Take care, now.”

  “You, too.”

  Jace hung up, dreading the morning, tension constricting his chest. He could hear her downstairs, opening and closing drawers, moving around. He didn’t need X-ray vision to know she was packing.

  Maybe Jillie’d had the right idea after all.

  Twenty minute love was a lot simpler than the hell people put themselves through for relationships that never worked out anyhow.

  When he came downstairs the next morning at seven-fifteen, Abbie was in the kitchen making coffee. Jace looked around for packed luggage, or any other sign that said she was preparing to leave. But there was none in sight.

  “Good morning,” he said.

  “Morning,” she replied quietly. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Not really.”

  “Me neither.”

  Crossing the silent kitchen, he pulled two mugs from the cupboard and waited for the proverbial other shoe to fall. Had she changed her mind? Or was she planning to cut out after he left for work to avoid an uncomfortable goodbye?

  She was dressed in belted tan chinos and a long-sleeved brown knit top, but she wasn’t wearing makeup. Not that that meant she was staying.

  There’s only one way to find out, he thought, even though the acids in his stomach told him to play it by ear. “What are your plans today?”

  She turned from pulling the orange juice out of the refrigerator and carried it to the bar. “I’m not sure. I thought I’d stick around here for a while, then drive over to my dad’s place and meet Dorothy.”

  That jarred him. “Dorothy?”

  “Dad’s housekeeper. I phoned her yesterday afternoon to tell her dad and Miriam would be back on Friday. She’s coming by to run the vacuum cleaner and freshen up the house. I told her I’d do it, but she insisted.” She paused. “I’ll help out, anyway.”

  Acids rolled again. So was she moving to her dad’s place or not? Coming back here later or not?

  Suddenly angry, Jace shoved his mug back in the cupboard. “On second thought,” he said evenly, “I think I’ll pass on the juice and coffee this morning. I’ll grab a cup at the office.”

  Pulling on his boots and taking his down vest from the hook behind the door, he shrugged it on. “Give me a call later if you want,” he muttered. Then he walked out and closed the door behind him.

  With a bone-weary look toward Heaven, Abbie put the orange juice back. She didn’t want juice or coffee, either. Last night she’d known exactly what she needed to do. She needed to leave so she could feel strong on her own again. She’d been focused.

  Then Jace had walked into the kitchen, her focus had vanished and her heart had started to ache and want again.

  Frustrated with herself, she shut off the coffeemaker, dumped the coffee and the grounds then rinsed the carafe.

  She would launder the sleeper-sofa’s bedding, finish dressing, then leave a note and carry her bags to the car.

  She would get out while the getting was good.

  That thought lasted until she turned the key in the ignition and backed her dad’s SUV out of Jace’s garage. Then she knew she couldn’t do it—not that way. If she did, she’d be no better than Jillie Rae, who’d left without having the courage to tell him she wouldn’t be back. He’d deserved better twenty-four years ago, and he deserved better today.

  It was tension on top of chaos when she entered the RL&L office at 9:45 a.m. after picking up the day’s mail. Ty was on the phone and searching through Ida’s desk for something he apparently couldn�
��t find, Fran was yanking open drawers in the nearby filing cabinets and Ida was nowhere around. The bookkeeper didn’t look well. In fact, Abbie’s dad had a saying for people who looked as sick as Fran did. He said they looked green around the gills.

  “Fran, what’s wrong?”

  “Ida called in sick today, and none of us knows her job well enough to limp through.” She snatched a file from a folder and handed it to Ty, who murmured his thanks.

  “You don’t feel well, either, do you?”

  Ty said goodbye, hung up and spoke. “No, she doesn’t. She’s sick as a dog.” He turned to Fran and released a sigh. “Okay, that fire’s out. Why don’t you head for home and get some rest?”

  The dark-haired woman shook her head. “Can’t. I have to do payroll today, and cut a few checks for vendors.”

  “I’ll take care of the vendors, and payroll can wait until tomorrow.”

  “I could be dead tomorrow. I’ll leave as soon as I take care of payroll.” Swallowing hard and going even paler, she nodded toward her office. “And I’d better do it right now.”

  Ty waited until she was gone, swore under his breath, then apologized. “Sorry. It’s been a day and a half already. Ida better live to be a hundred and fifty or we’re all in deep spit.”

  Abruptly, his face brightened. “Abbie. How’d you like to man the phones and take messages today? Or do you have plans?”

  Who was pulling her strings today? Angels or demons? She nearly told him she did have plans, but her conscience intervened. “No. Nothing I can’t put off. I just came by to see Jace.”

  “He was in the grading building a few minutes ag—”

  The phone rang.

  Grimacing, Ty punched the lighted button on the phone and picked up the receiver. “Rogan Logging & Lumber, can you hold?” Pressing the button again, he hung up.

  “How about it? Can you stay for a few hours? Pete took a bid out to the Forestry Service a little while ago, but he had a few stops to make afterward. He should be able to take over for you by one o’clock at the latest.”

  Knowing she had no choice after everything Jace had done for her, Abbie slipped off her jacket and Ty gratefully abandoned Ida’s seat. “Sure. Just show me which buttons to push.”

  Despite his frantic mood, he grinned. “After seeing my brother’s face this morning, I get the feeling you already know.” Then he got on with the instructions and headed toward the door. “If you want to page Jace, just punch the green button and yell. He’ll hear you if he’s not in the sawmill.”

  Abbie nodded, but doubted she’d do that. He’d have to come into the office eventually. That was soon enough.

  “Oh—and help yourself to tea, coffee or the soft drinks in Fran’s office. You know the drill. Pop’s free to employees.”

  So that’s what she was, Abbie thought, depressing the lighted button when the phone rang again. An employee. That was quite a departure from being a lawyer. Or a lover.

  Danny concentrated hard as he sat on the motel bed and cut two pieces of blue vinyl tape from the roll, then expertly turned an E into a B on the Pennsylvania license plate he’d lifted yesterday. He’d lucked out and found a car up on blocks shortly after crossing the Ohio-Pennsylvania border—one with a fitted cover over it. It was a convertible—shiny and ready for summer, not winter slush—and he’d known the plate wouldn’t be missed for a while.

  Holding up his handiwork, he smiled at the results, then pulled the hood up on his new sweatshirt and hurried into the early Monday morning snow flurries to replace the plate. There was a half-frozen mud hole in the parking lot, and he dug some dirt from it—smeared it around just enough to dull the tape’s shine. A moment later, he was driving out of the lot. He’d paid cash upfront, so there was no need to stop at the office. It was time to head south.

  Time for a little game of cat and mouse before he got down to the satisfying business of beating his lying bitch of an ex-lawyer to a bloody pulp.

  “Ty shouldn’t have asked you to stay.”

  Abbie glanced up at Jace, her annoyance matching his as he walked her toward her dad’s SUV. Snow flurries tossed and blew around them, while a white smudge of a sun shone dully through the cloud cover, and noisy log trucks rolled past on their way to the yard.

  “Well, he did ask, I said yes, and now that Pete’s back, my shift is over. Why are you in such a foul mood? And why is helping you such a big sin?”

  “Because you had things to do.”

  “They weren’t as important as manning your phones. In fact, I think Dorothy was relieved that I didn’t come over. She likes doing things her own way.”

  “Don’t we all.”

  They were nearing her car, now. Abbie hit the remote on her keychain, popping the door locks on her dad’s Expedition.

  She saw a nerve leap in Jace’s jaw when he glanced inside the vehicle. But he didn’t mention the luggage on the back seat, which made her think he’d noticed it earlier.

  Two hours ago, right after she’d paged the lift driver to the yard, Jace had called her from the grading building to ask what she was doing there. He’d been so grumpy, she’d hung up on him. She hadn’t seen or heard from him again until Pete walked in five minutes ago, and she’d walked out.

  She nodded at her luggage. “That’s why I came by this morning. I wanted to tell you that I was leaving.”

  “Then you’re definitely heading back to your dad’s place?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right. I’ll follow you out there—carry your things inside and make sure everything’s secure.”

  For a moment she was amazed and a little flattered because until now, he’d refused to go any farther than the driveway when she dropped off the mail. But on the way, she began to wonder if he’d offered to do it because he cared…or for another reason.

  He’d shown less antagonism when she’d mentioned her dad lately, but she knew there was no forgiveness in Jace for that long-ago night. Two weeks ago, he’d kissed her on a dance floor just to cause trouble.

  Glancing into her rearview mirror, she turned onto the curved road leading to the bridge near her dad’s place.

  Was walking through her dad’s home another thumb-in-your-eye gesture? Could he be that petty?

  She approached the pale concrete bridge, slowed down and prepared to cross it.

  Suddenly Abbie’s eyes widened and chills covered every inch of her. Pulling off to the side of the road, she stopped her car and leapt out, then turned to watch Jace swerve in behind her. He was at her side in an instant. “What’s wrong?”

  Then she watched his gaze go dark as he read the black spray-painted graffiti on the bridge abutment.

  I’M HERE.

  Chapter 12

  “Okay,” Jace said calmly. “Let’s put this in perspective. It could be nothing more than the work of kids with too much time on their hands.”

  “Yes, it could,” she agreed, hating the tremble in her voice and feeling anger slowly replace her fears. “But why that particular message? Why not Bob Loves Laurie, Eat Spit And Die or the ever popular F-You?”

  “I don’t know.” Giving her a quick squeeze, he said, “Wait here,” and strode back to his Explorer. He returned in a moment, hitting a key on his cell phone.

  After a few rings, he said, “Officer Harris, it’s Jace Rogan. I spoke to Chief Frasier last night about Abbie Winslow returning to her dad’s place today. Did he pass the message along? Good. I just called to tell you that someone decorated the bridge near Morgan’s house with graffiti. It’s not overtly threatening, and it might not be anything important, but it wasn’t here yesterday. Any traffic signs or billboards getting the same treatment?”

  When Abbie sent him a questioning look, Jace shook his head. He listened for another moment, his brow furrowing. “I’m not sure,” he finally said, locking his gaze on hers. “I’d rather she stayed with me, just to be on the safe side, but I won’t push. See you soon.” Jace broke the connection. “He’s on his way.”


  Nodding, Abbie shoved her hands into her pockets and paced, anger and frustration energizing her. “It could be kids,” she said again. “But I can’t shake the feeling that I was meant to see that.” Halting abruptly, she drew a breath. “Okay. I’ll come back to your house. For tonight.”

  The lines of tension on his face deepened. “Only tonight?”

  She was finally fed up with all of it. “Yes. I’m through running and worrying and feeling helpless. I’d move into Dad’s place right now if I didn’t need time for a crash course.”

  “A crash course in what?”

  “You have a handgun. Teach me to use it.”

  “Have you lost your mind?”

  “No,” she said crisply. “I think I’ve just found it. Pennsylvania law isn’t that different from California law. If he breaks into my father’s house and tries to hurt me, I’m entitled to hurt him back. I’m sick to death of feeling powerless, and I’m tired of letting you coddle me while I run around with my hands in the air like a dimwitted teenager from a slasher film.”

  His face froze in unyielding lines. “Know what? That’s tough. I’m not putting a gun in the hand of someone who doesn’t know the first thing about firearms. Good God, if the worst happened and Long did show up, he could take it away and use it on you. You live in L.A.! Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of that happening.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard of that happening. But at the risk of shocking you, from where I’m standing right now, a bullet would be quicker and a lot more humane than being beaten to death by a bat-swinging psycho.”

  Jace stilled, a storm raging in his eyes. Then he slowly raised a cautioning finger. “Let’s just shelve this discussion right now. Do you feel well enough to drive? I told Harris we’d meet him at your dad’s place.”

  “Yes, I feel well enough to drive. Haven’t you heard anything I’ve said? Was I too subtle?”

  Exhaling an exasperated breath, he strode to her idling car and pulled the door open wider. “Abbie, there’s nothing subtle—or clear-headed—about you right now. Get in. I’ll follow you.”