Chance of a Lifetime

by Jodi Thomas

  Trace’s actions were lightning fast. She pulled a gun from her boot and stepped in front of Rick before he could move. “Stay here,” she ordered as she leaned low and took a step outside.

  George raised his head and moaned. Blood dripped from a scrape on his cheek.

  Rick couldn’t just stand there watching and no weapon appeared to be handy. Besides if anyone was out there, the marshal could handle them. Hell, she could probably handle a gang.

  “Rick? That you?” Hatcher mumbled. “Help me up.”

  Without another thought of self-preservation, Rick walked outside and knelt beside the bookstore owner. “What happened? Are you all right?”

  Trace was several feet away, her weapon still at the ready as she surveyed the parking area and alley beyond.

  “I’m fine.” George took Rick’s arm and stood slowly like a man unsure which limbs might hold. “I fell. Must have not been watching where I was going.”

  Rick heard someone talking and realized his office back window was just above and for once, it was open. Eldon Peters was complaining about his wife’s driving. It didn’t take a detective to figure out that George might have been eavesdropping.

  Rick made a mental note to keep his window closed.

  Fighting down a smile, he asked, “You think you might have broken anything?”

  Hatcher took a hesitant step as if testing his bones. “I don’t think so.” He brushed his cheek. “I must have scraped my face on the corner of those old stairs when I fell. Don’t know how it could have happened. I’ve made that trip to the trash a hundred times.”

  George must have gone to the alley and heard something upstairs on his way back. Then he must have tried to balance on the uneven steps while he was listening.

  Trace walked back to them. “You all right, Mr. H?” she said in her relaxed tone as if she hadn’t been a warrior only seconds ago.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Just an old fool for not paying attention.”

  Trace took his arm. “It wasn’t your fault. Things like this happen. Who knows, it might have even been that ghost you say you hear around the place.”

  George brightened. “That’s a possibility. The sheriff doesn’t have one clue as to who sawed the steps. Maybe the ghost doesn’t want any of us around the place. I need to call and get an expert to come in and investigate.”

  Rick wasn’t sure Alex would have time to help George. She’d probably send Phil Gentry, her deputy. As long as he was near a coffeepot, he’d entertain any possible crime theory.

  “Don’t you think we should doctor that scrape on your face, George? It could get infected.” Trace tried to pull him toward his chair, but he would have none of it.

  “I got to reach Mrs. Weatherbee before she leaves for Wichita Falls. She reads palms over there on Monday afternoons, but this is far more important.” He patted his cheek with a napkin as he punched in the call. “We’re doing breakthrough work here.”

  Rick finally caught Trace’s gaze and motioned they leave. She nodded. While George gave details to the town’s only fortune-teller, Trace and Rick walked out front.

  “So, do we stay with the ghost serial killer or with the dueling murderers upstairs?” she asked as if she were being serious. “Who knew small towns could be so interesting?”

  They started up the stairs. “It’s me,” Rick said. “Interesting things always happen around interesting people.”

  She frowned at him.

  He grinned. “You were sexy back there, going all U.S. Marshal on me.”

  “Don’t go there, Matheson. I’m just watching over you.” Before he could think of anything to say, she asked, “Wonder how the senior citizens are doing in your office. I sure hope we don’t find the blood and white hair flying.”

  Rick checked his watch. “This looks like it could be a long morning. I’ll buy lunch.”

  When he made it back to his office Mr. and Mrs. Peters were not talking to each other and three fresh fifty-dollar bills lay on his desk. Rick took the money and sat down. “I’ll respect your time-out for as long as you wish to sit in my office, and then we’ll talk.”

  Minnie lifted her eyebrow as if guessing he was just passing time, but her lips had disappeared into that thin line again. It was obvious she didn’t plan to be the first one to break the silence.

  Rick glanced at Eldon and he looked just as stubborn.

  Trace stood behind them rolling her eyes. It took her about three minutes to get bored and disappear.

  Rick waited.

  When the second hour was up, Minnie stood and thanked him for his time. Eldon followed her out, saying that they’d be back.

  Rick liked the money, but this had to be the most boring case he’d had to date. He gave them time to get downstairs, then grabbed his jacket and bolted for the door.

  As he swung the office door open and ran to find Trace, she collided with him in a full body slam. Both stepped back and complained.

  “What are you doing?” she snapped.

  “I was going to find you for lunch, Wanda.”

  To his surprise, the serious federal marshal burst out laughing.

  Chapter 33

  EMILY WALKED AROUND THE SECOND FLOOR OF THE library, making sure everything was in place. She loved the smell of books.

  All was quiet. Everyone had run over to the used bookstore to deliver all the books on ghosts that they could find. Pamela Sue even picked up a few children’s books. George Hatcher was calling in the writers’ group as well as everyone he could think of who believed in ghosts.

  Emily thought it strange that Pamela Sue thought the moon landing was a hoax but believed spirits roamed the earth pestering humans. She’d even talked the children’s librarian into going along to see what was happening at the used bookstore. Apparently, the expert palm reader, Mrs. Weatherbee, was going to give a talk as soon as she arrived.

  Walking down the steps, Emily smiled. Thankfully, she was going to miss it. Memories already haunted her, she didn’t need ghosts as well.

  She stopped at the set of mysteries called The Secrets of Comeback Bay. She checked to see if there had been another entry, but there was none. Maybe one of the two people passing notes in the old books had moved away, or died. She might never know the truth. It had been so long since they’d written in the book.

  As she held the mystery in the center of the silent library, Emily thought she could almost feel Tannon’s arms around her. It felt so right to be with him, but she knew she was doing what she always did with men. She was starting to push him away.

  The friendship they’d rebuilt was great, but when he kissed her she knew that at some point he’d want more. She wanted his touch, his kiss, even that taste of his passion, but she wasn’t sure she could handle more.

  How could she say that she didn’t want intimacy? No, that wasn’t true. She wanted it. She just didn’t want him to see her nude. She’d gotten over the attack all those years ago. Except for a few quirks, she thought she’d walked away healthy. Only, she’d been scared, and in order to be truly with a man, he’d have to see those scars.

  Emily made up her mind. She’d take what Tannon offered. The friendship. The kissing. The caring. Then, when it finally stepped too far, she’d walk away as she’d done before. She’d run before he saw the scars.

  This time, though, it would hurt her far more than the attack had. This time when she left a man standing there wondering what happened, she’d also leave her heart. Tannon wasn’t a man she could leave easily, but this one time she would kiss him back.

  None of the guys she’d dated in college had even noticed her holding back, but he had. He’d noticed because it mattered to him.

  Emily closed the book and walked downstairs as Sam bumped his way out of the back with a vacuum cleaner in one hand and the hose in the other. “I know we don’t do this during open hours, but there’s a mess of sunflower seeds over by the computers. I thought since no one was here, I might clean them up.”

  “All righ
t,” Emily said, realizing it was almost two hours before Sam was supposed to be at work. “How long have you been here?”

  “I came in right after you opened. Couldn’t sleep so decided to come to work early.”

  She’d never known him to come in five minutes early, much less the whole morning. Except for Fridays, he always stayed an hour after the library closed.

  “So you were here when George Hatcher called about the bookstore ghost?” Emily didn’t understand why, but she didn’t quite believe the janitor.

  “Yeah, I heard them talking but didn’t see no reason for running over there to see something that’s invisible in the first place.”

  “Do you believe men landed on the moon?”

  Sam, as usual, looked bothered when asked to stop and talk. “Of course. Can I go clean up the sunflower seeds before another pile drops on them and we end up with stalactites coming up off the floor.”

  “Stalagmites,” she corrected, as if it mattered.

  Sam moved away mumbling something about the whole town going crazy lately.

  Emily’s office phone sounded and she ran to catch the call. “Hello,” she answered out of breath.

  Tannon’s low laughter came from the other end. “Been running in the library again, honey?”

  She laughed. “Of course.”

  “Too bad. I was hoping it was me.”

  She held the phone so tightly the tips of her fingers turned white. “Is your mom all right? She didn’t take a turn for the worse after I left yesterday, did she?”

  “No, she’s actually doing a little better this morning. I called to tell you I wish I’d kissed you good-bye one more time.”

  “You’re always saying that.” She laughed.

  “I know. I guess I can’t get enough. Do you mind terribly, Emily? Could you handle a few more kisses in your life?”

  She took a deep breath. “I could handle a few more.”

  “I’ll be home as soon as I can. I miss you.”

  She thought of all the things she could say, that she’d miss him, that she’d kiss him back when he came home, that she was falling for her best friend, but all she could get out was “Good-bye.”

  She hung up the phone and noticed her hand was shaking. How could she tell him that she’d never gone beyond a few kisses with any guy before? She was more than thirty years old—women her age counted their lovers in double digits. His words whispered back to her as she stood very still, Can you handle a little more?

  This time, she vowed. This time she could.

  Chapter 34

  TUESDAY NIGHT

  BEAU HAD SET HIS GUITAR DOWN A HALF HOUR AGO AND moved down to the last porch step. Wrapped up in his coat and an old blanket, he planned to spend a few minutes studying the stars. The night was still and quiet like it gets just before a storm. He thought he could feel a bit of spring in the wind. His grandpa used to tell him to live by the seasons, not the clock. Beau was starting to realize what the old man meant.

  As always, he felt lonely, but he knew Trouble wouldn’t be by to pick him up tonight. Wherever she lived, whatever she did, she only drove the red Mustang on weekends. He’d walked by the library a dozen times hoping to run into her again. He’d even made it to breakfast with Ronny in hopes of catching her, but his almost girlfriend was never around and there was no sign of the car.

  A few days ago he asked the breakfast club if anyone knew of a smoking hot red ’65 Ford in town. None of them remembered seeing one. Apparently his midnight date was as much a ghost as George Hatcher’s bookstore spirit everyone was talking about. Each time George told the story, it got bigger. He wore the scrape on his cheek like a battle wound.

  The lights were out in both apartments so he could see the stars and the sliver of a moon. Man, tonight would have been a perfect time for a midnight ride.

  Beau thought he heard a door open behind him, but it was too dark on the porch to see anything. Then the hair on the back of his neck stood on end as footsteps headed toward him.

  “Ronny?” he said. “Is that you?”

  “Beau,” she whispered. “I didn’t see you there.”

  “Sorry I frightened you. I just couldn’t sleep and thought I’d watch the stars.”

  She didn’t say anything for a minute. He could feel her close more than see her. Finally, she whispered, “Beau, we’re friends, right?”

  “Right,” he answered, trying to make out her face in the dark.

  “I need a favor, a promise.” She moved closer as the flash of car light turned on their street a few blocks away.

  “Name it.” Beau knew her well enough to guess that whatever she asked wouldn’t be illegal.

  The car slowed as it moved closer.

  She leaned so close she was almost touching his ear when she whispered, “Forget you saw me tonight. Promise.”

  “I never saw you.”

  The car stopped in front of the duplex. A long expensive Lincoln looking fresh off the assembly line.

  “I never saw you leave with a midnight lover,” he whispered.

  She stepped away and whispered so low it carried light on the breeze. “It’s not what it looks like, Beau, and I can’t explain.”

  As the door opened, Ronny ran toward it. Beau heard her thrill of laughter as she climbed in, then almost without a sound, the car pulled away picking up speed.

  Beau smiled. He’d wasted his time feeling sorry for Ronny, obviously she had something very private going on. He picked up his guitar and began to play.

  An hour later the sheriff’s cruiser pulled up and two deputies climbed out. Beau must have dozed off for he’d thought the lights were falling stars for a minute before he realized what they were. He didn’t move as one of the deputies stepped onto the porch and shined his flashlight across Beau’s boots.

  “That you, Beau Yates?” Deputy Gentry said in his official voice.

  Beau acted like they’d woke him up. “Yeah, was I snoring too loud?”

  The other deputy pounded on Ronny’s door as Gentry explained, “No, you can sleep on the porch if you want to, kid. We’re here to talk to Ronny Logan. Her mother had a dream that she was kidnapped tonight, maybe raped and killed. She won’t settle down, so we finally agreed to come check on her. Dallas Logan swore she’d stand outside the office and yell till dawn if we didn’t do something.”

  “Why didn’t you just put her in jail? That old bag is crazy. She drives by here all the time, trying to spy on Ronny.”

  “I know, but if we arrested her we might have to strip-search her and none of us was willing to do that. Waking up the daughter seemed like the only other plan.”

  The other deputy continued to pound.

  Gentry flashed the light in Beau’s face. “You know where she is?”

  “N-no,” Beau lied.

  The deputy went around to the back of the house and pounded again. Lights came on in Border’s room, and a minute later Border stormed out, wearing only his underwear and tattoos.

  In the daylight, with his clothes on, Border was frightening. Now, raging like a bear woke in the middle of winter, he was downright terrifying.

  He slammed the screen open so fast and hard he almost knocked Gentry off the porch. The young deputy came around the corner and thought Border had attacked Gentry. He pulled his flashlight up and swung it like a club at Border’s head. Beau jumped to block the blow, and they all ended up rolling around on the porch with Border and the deputy swinging while Beau and Gentry tried to stay out of the way.

  Thirty minutes later, Beau would have laughed at the entire scene if he hadn’t been handcuffed in the back of the cruiser and on his way to jail. Gentry was in the front seat taking turns yelling, first at the young deputy for being an idiot and then at Border for waking up swinging.

  Beau guessed Gentry felt bad because he was talking to people who had been minding their own business an hour ago and now they were on their way to spend the night in jail all because some crazy lady had a dream.

 
When Beau walked in he spotted Dallas Logan dressed in the ugliest bathrobe ever made. The hem was once trimmed with rubber duckies, but after a thousand washings, they had begun to flake off, leaving headless ducks marching along the bottom of the robe.

  She rushed toward him, her fists on her hips. “One of them did it!” she yelled. “Right now my daughter’s body is buried in a shallow grave after they did who-knows-what with her. I’ve known all along these two were up to no good. They just waited for their chance, and tonight they must have found it.”

  If Gentry hadn’t blocked her way, Beau had no doubt Dallas and her mutilated duck robe would have come flying into him.

  “Your daughter’s not dead,” he said before he thought.

  Gentry glared at him. “You know this for certain?”

  “N-no. B-but the last time I saw her she was fine.”

  “And when was that?”

  “I-I don’t remember.” He lied again. Since midnight, lying had become a habit.

  Gentry nodded toward the deputy behind the desk. “Maybe we better wake the judge up and get a warrant to search her apartment. Something doesn’t feel right. Lock these two up until I get some answers.”

  Border bumped against Beau and whispered, “Tell them you’re not talking until you see your lawyer.”

  “B-but I didn’t do anything.” All he was doing was trying to keep a promise to Ronny. “I-I don’t even know a lawyer.”

  Border took over. “We’re not talking until we talk to our lawyer!”

  “What do you think you did?” Gentry asked Border.

  “I don’t know, I guess I’m being charged with guilt by association.”

  “B-but I didn’t do anything,” Beau tried again.

  Border glared at Gentry. “And I was with him when it didn’t happen.”

  Chapter 35

  WEDNESDAY

  THE PHONE WOKE RICK BEFORE DAYLIGHT. HE FUMBLED around the nightstand and finally caught the cell phone. “Matheson,” he said as he sat up.