Wishes at First Light

by Joanne Rock

  Straightening at the bedside, he watched his youngest sibling and knew something was wrong. Something besides her father dying.

  “Mia? Can I use your phone to call Gabriella?” He studied her face, but out of his peripheral vision, he could see Davis straighten in his chair.

  Interesting. Whatever Mia was hiding, Clay would guess her boyfriend knew about it.

  “My battery is dead.” Mia’s answer came out in a rush even as Davis handed her the phone he’d been holding. Flustered, she took it, but slid it into her hoodie pocket.

  Clay needed Gabriella here, damn it. She understood the girl better than him. She could interpret the byplay more accurately than he could. At the very least, she could help make Mia understand that Pete didn’t have much time left. Their lives were all going to change soon.

  Lowering his voice, he shuttled her a few steps from the bed to be sure they didn’t risk upsetting their father. “I thought you were keeping it turned off on purpose.” He tried the direct approach.

  She sucked in a breath. Stayed silent.

  Davis leaned forward. “Tell him,” he urged Mia quietly.

  Out of his depth, Clay needed a different kind of strength from Gabriella. Patience. Perspective.

  “Tell me what?” He kept his gaze on Mia, trying not to push too hard but needing answers.

  Her dark eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “I was going to tell Pete.” She took a deep breath and shoved her hair off her face. “He has changed my phone number in the past to keep a stalker dude away from me. And I need the number changed again because this guy found me.”

  Confirming all the fears Gabriella had been having this week. The air rushed out of Clay’s lungs. Damn it.

  Why hadn’t he listened? Pushed for answers sooner? “Found you?” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and hit Gabriella’s number because he couldn’t wait anymore. He needed her now. “How do you know?”

  “He texted me to say ‘I found you.’” She shrugged like the answer should have been obvious to him. Her fingers twisted the zipper tab on her hoodie, spinning it round and round. “Before, when that’s happened, Pete has gotten me a new number.”

  How the hell many times had it happened? Tension knotted his shoulders and pulled taut while he listened with one ear to his phone dialing Gabriella’s number.

  “What makes you think he only discovered your phone number? How do you know this guy didn’t find out where you’re living, too?” His pulse pounded hard behind his eyes, the thump, thumping about three times as fast as the flashing heartbeat on Pete’s monitor.

  Hell. What if this guy was on his way to Heartache right now to find Mia? Gabriella was all alone in that house.

  His call to her rang. And rang.

  The tension in his shoulders twisted. Sank. Drained down into his gut in a pool of dread.

  “He’s never traced me before. Just found the number.” Mia chewed on her lip. “If you keep your phone turned off, it doesn’t show your location or anything.”

  Clay closed his eyes for a second. Just long enough to try and scavenge some more patience.

  “As a private investigator, I know about a million ways to find people who don’t want to be found—some of whom are experts at going into hiding.” Why the hell hadn’t she confided in him sooner? The answer blasted through his head with the volume of a foghorn.

  Maybe because he hadn’t given her enough reason to trust him.

  The dread in his gut roiled. “I don’t want to frighten you, but you have to understand you can’t tackle this alone. I guarantee that a teenage girl would be an easy mark for someone with a little motivation and half a brain.”

  His call to Gabby kicked over to her voice mail when she didn’t pick up. Very, very unlike her.

  Fear squeezed him in an icy grip.

  “I didn’t know.” Mia shook her head, tears letting loose to stream down her face.

  Another punch to the gut.

  He rounded the bed to hug her, wishing he knew what to do. His father could die any minute. His sister needed him. But Gabriella might be all alone in a house with some kind of stalker intent on finding Mia.

  “I’m going to call my friend, the sheriff, to meet me at the house to make sure Gabby’s safe.” He withdrew his phone, already dialing Sam. “I’ll ask him if Heather can sit with you, or maybe she can call her sister—Erin, the woman who owns the vintage store. You know them, right? Feel safe with them?”

  He had seen Mia with Erin at the reunion.

  She nodded, her face pale and frightened. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

  “I’ve made bigger mistakes, believe me.” He regretted all the time he’d wasted blaming his father for Eddy’s death instead of finding out about Mia and getting to know her. He’d learned too damn well from this day with his father that time was short. He couldn’t let anything hold him back when it came to the people he cared about, like Mia.

  Gabriella.

  Clay placed a hand on Mia’s shoulder. “But going forward, we need to start trusting each other more. Okay?”

  Soon they would be making some hard decisions about her future and he needed her to be honest with him about what she wanted.

  His sister nodded tearfully while Sam picked up the call.

  Clay dropped a kiss on Mia’s head and turned his attention to finding Gabriella.

  He pressed his Bluetooth more securely to his ear. “Sam, it’s Clay.” He didn’t think twice about bothering Sam during the reunion. This was too important. Gabriella was too important. “I need someone out at the Chance house to find Gabby. Fast.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  GABRIELLA STEPPED DEEPER into her childhood bedroom, unspeakably grateful that Zach had remodeled it since the day she’d tried to end her unhappiness by swallowing as many pills as possible.

  Clutching her cell phone in her hand that contained all the security codes for the house, Gabby tried to tell herself that this was just a room like any other. A harmless physical space with new bamboo blinds and a pretty seagrass wall covering that was nothing like the flocked florals she’d chosen as a child.

  The only ghost here now was in her head and inside her heart. Although when a breeze blew through the house and banged a door shut somewhere within, the unexpected noise made her jump.

  Deep breaths, she reminded herself, even as her heart raced. She forced her hand to relax around her phone and rationalize.

  Normal. Natural. The night was gusty and she’d purposely left the door open as she walked through the sprawling Craftsman home, hoping the fresh, cold air would help keep her wits about her. The scent of autumn leaves and lemon floor cleaner followed her, grounding her in the present so she didn’t get lost in old memories of a sticky Tennessee summer when her life had turned into a hell she couldn’t escape.

  The whole town seemed united in hating their family, resenting the wealth the Chances had stockpiled, assuming all of it was ill-gotten gains. Maybe it had been, based on her father’s crimes. Gabriella had never found out for certain. She’d just wanted the pain to stop. She’d needed someone to tell her it would be okay. That they could still be a family after her father went to jail.

  Except her mother had been unreachable. She’d turned into a stranger, spending all her time at the jail or with the lawyers, plotting appeals. Was it any wonder Gabby had been so hungry for attention she’d been sitting next to the computer whenever those chat messages arrived?

  Later—after the assault—she’d been so desperate for her mother’s attention...

  She’d tried to kill herself.

  The realization rocked her.

  All these years she’d thought the overdose had been about the attack. She couldn’t deal with the memories of the way Covington had held her down and ripped at her clothes, spo
uting filth about her. But Jeremy Covington’s touch hadn’t been the only thing that shattered her. Her mother hadn’t fought for her when Zach suggested he take her to the West Coast. Her mother hadn’t insisted she go with them. Protect them. She’d turned them out.

  Running a palm over the sill of the closest window, she wished it wasn’t so dark out. She wanted to see the view she remembered well. She leaned into the cold glass, breathing deeply again in hopes of easing the hurt. Of airing out the pain of her mom’s refusal to step up and take charge when Gabby’s life spun out of control.

  That abandonment had driven her to protect Mia at all costs to spare her the same hurt. All these years she’d told herself she was a valiant protector of the victims in her support group. But all along she’d been trying to make sure other victims had a network of support that Gabby had been denied.

  Now she was sitting in this most frightening of all places, the spot where despair had nearly ended a life that was both fragile and precious. And she was okay. Scarred but still standing. Clay had helped her to see that she wasn’t weak for needing others to lift her up—her brother, Sam and now Clay. They had all helped her to be stronger in the same way she encouraged those in her support group, giving them faith in themselves. It may have taken ten years, but she finally saw her journey for what it was—a battle to be worthy of her mom’s love.

  She knew it was a battle she would never win. But it helped to recognize her suicide attempt for what it was. More than just a reaction to the assault, but a cry for her mom to care.

  The need to see Clay—to thank him for being there for her this week and letting her face her old demons—was so strong she wanted to drive to the hospital and be with him. Sit by his side and help however she could. Explain why she’d been so determined not to walk away from Mia. She peered outside the bedroom window where moonlight glinted on the driveway Zach had redone with pavers.

  At the top of the driveway was a sedan she didn’t recognize. A friend of Zach’s? Or maybe it was Heather’s car? Zach said she hadn’t been feeling well today, so maybe she’d driven back to Heartache? A trickle of fear snaked through her, even as she assured herself there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for the vehicle being there.

  Except then she heard another door slam somewhere downstairs. What if it wasn’t the wind? She remembered that string of break-ins Zach had mentioned.

  Silently Gabriella walked to the door, stepping lightly while she held her phone full of security codes. Codes she’d been so intent on unlocking that she hadn’t re-armed the system behind her. She’d wanted the fresh air. Now that Jeremy Covington was on trial, she hadn’t been afraid of real-life attackers, only the ghosts in this childhood bedroom. She cursed herself for being ten kinds of idiot. Why have a security system if you didn’t use it?

  Zach had reminded her tonight at the reunion that there was a safe room in this place. All she had to do was find it and lock herself inside then call Clay. Her throat closed up tight as she set foot in the hallway.

  “Mia?”

  A man’s voice shouted from downstairs. An unfamiliar voice.

  Gabriella froze. Her heart pounded.

  Who would be searching for Mia here? The knowledge gave her all the more courage since she planned to protect the teen at any cost. She checked her phone to find the location of the safe room—close to Zach’s office in the basement, two floors down.

  Damn it. She couldn’t think how to get past the main floor without the intruder seeing her. Unless she somehow lured him up one set of steps while she sneaked down another. Picking up a vase she recognized as one of the gifts her father brought home from a trip abroad—probably worth a small fortune—Gabriella heaved it to the far end of the hallway near the main stairs.

  It shattered against the wall, the broken shards scattering in every direction. Downstairs, she heard movement. Hoping the intruder was drawn in the direction of the crash, Gabriella slipped down a smaller set of carpeted stairs in the back of the house that led to the family room, but she didn’t stop there.

  Her heart in her throat, her lips pursed tightly to keep any sound from escaping and alerting the intruder, she crept all the way down to the basement and into a closet. She closed the door behind her as the scent of cedar chips hit her nose. She pushed aside the suits and coats hung on the clothes rack to find a second door at the back. Her pulse pounded so hard she felt unsteady. Fumbling with her phone, she searched for the code to use on the entry panel. A long, complicated code that Zach must know by heart. She messed it up twice.

  Sweat rolled down her forehead and she heard footsteps nearby. Closer and closer they came while she tried typing the right number of backslashes, semicolons and uppercase letters until...

  Click.

  The lock opened.

  She slipped inside just as the closet door opened. She caught the slightest glance of a young man’s sneering face, blond hair spiked in fat clumps that stood out like multiple horns.

  “Where’s Mia?” he shouted at her as the door closed behind her, locking her in a room she trusted he’d never get inside.

  A safe room. Installed by someone who never could have imagined how much it would help his sister.

  Right now she only wanted to think about one man. She backed deeper into the room, a blue light on overhead that must have been triggered by her unlocking the door. The space was big enough for a narrow bed and a chair pulled up to an electronics panel. A computer screen blinked to life with a security display that showed six different camera views of the Chance house, including an image of her intruder, hauling all the clothes out of the closet so he could study the door where Gabriella had disappeared.

  Her heart rate slowed a little as she glanced down at her phone to see she’d missed a call from Clay—no doubt while she was running through the house to escape an intruder looking for Mia. Or maybe he’d phoned earlier and she’d been too caught up in her own memories of the past that she hadn’t noticed the cell buzzing.

  Her finger shook as she dialed his number to return the call. If he didn’t answer right away, she’d phone 911 herself. But if she could just hear his voice...

  His phone was ringing when she noticed two other young men on the screen. One in Zach’s bedroom. Another in the living room shoving all the small electronics into a bag.

  They weren’t looking for Mia. They were robbing the house. Her knees shook so hard she needed to sit before she fell down.

  “Gabriella?” Clay answered the phone in a rush, sounding every bit as afraid as she felt. “Where are you? Are you okay?”

  One of the security cameras showed an image of a skinny teen in boots and a spiked leather collar throwing rocks at a small satellite dish. As one hit the dish, the video feed wavered.

  The thieves might look young, but they seemed to know exactly what they were doing. Her mouth was dust-dry and she had to swallow twice before she could answer Clay’s question.

  “I’m in the safe room in Zach’s house. I’m fine.” The video display went dark along with a few of the blinking lights on the desktop machinery. Her phone remained on, as did the blue light overhead. “There are at least three people in the house. They’re robbing Zach. Can you alert Sam?”

  She needed to remain calm. In control. She tried to imagine she was taking a call on the hotline for her victim support group, and was giving advice to someone in this situation. What would she say?

  “He’s already on his way, Gabby, and I’m only minutes behind him.” Clay’s voice was steady, providing the answers her frantic brain couldn’t process right now. “Are you sure the door is locked?”

  Her eyes went to the light on the code pad near the door. The digital readout said Armed. Seeing it gave her a little more peace. Or maybe that just came from hearing Clay’s voice when she was so scared she couldn’t think straight.

  “Posit
ive.” She lowered herself to sit on the narrow bed and tucked her knees up to her chest. “Should you warn Sam that there are at least three people? One of them was looking for Mia.”

  She didn’t want to overlook anything. Couldn’t screw this up. She’d been so close to shutting the door on her past and moving forward. What if this break-in sent her free-falling back into her old nightmares and fears?

  “Sam has backup meeting him there,” he assured her. “I’m staying on the phone with you so I know what’s going on. Keep talking. Let me know you’re okay.”

  Clay was saying all the right things to ease some of the fear.

  “Okay.” She breathed in his certainty. His faith in her strength. He gave her courage when someone was trying to break into the safe room.

  She wished she could see what was happening on the other side of that door right now.

  Clay sounded like he was on the headset in his motorcycle helmet, the rush of wind and roar of the engine making him raise his voice as he spoke. “A boy from the first foster home has been stalking Mia. She never mentioned him to you?”

  “Connor? The foster brother she didn’t like?” She put the pieces together from long-ago conversations, remembering how desperate Mia was to get out of that house. “I knew she disliked him when she lived in that house, but I had no idea he was still looking for her. She never said one word about that.”

  Why hadn’t Mia confided in her? She lowered her forehead to her knees. What if the boy had found Mia at home alone?

  The need to protect the girl surged into anger. A warrior fury. She could not allow anyone to hurt Mia the way she’d been hurt as a teen. More important, she needed to tell Mia that she would help and protect her.

  That she wasn’t alone.

  It was that feeling of being on her own in the world that had sent Gabriella running to the pill bottle that day. She had to make sure Mia never felt that way.

  Clay’s voice rumbled in her ear, low and steady. “Mia has kept too many things to herself and shouldered too many burdens for someone her age. You were right about that, and I was too caught up in my feud with my father to pay attention.”