Right Where We Belong

by Brenda Novak

  Several links populated the screen. She clicked on the first one and a picture of Emma appeared. The girl had been pretty, all right, with shiny dark hair and big brown eyes. Savanna could easily see her ex-husband being attracted to such a beauty, especially as she read more. Emma had been popular, a cheerleader and a straight-A student—the kind of girl Gordon would’ve longed to date in high school but who would’ve been out of his reach. He’d been pudgy back then, until he’d grown serious about wrestling. He’d also been such a troublemaker, which was why he’d been sent to an all-boys school for reformation.

  “Heaven help me,” she muttered as she scrolled through the article, which had been written shortly after Emma had gone missing.

  Please, if you have information, contact the police. We’ll do anything to get our daughter back. She’s always been such a sweet, loving person.

  That heartfelt plea from Emma’s father made Savanna wince. She had a daughter, too. She couldn’t imagine the pain involved in what Emma’s family was going through. Surely, Gordon would not resort to murder, would not take a child away from her parents.

  Emma’s car had been found on the side of the road with a slight dent on one side. According to her parents, she’d been coming home from cheer practice when she went missing. The police speculated that whoever kidnapped her had hit her car, and she’d pulled over to exchange insurance information. No doubt she’d felt perfectly safe, since it was in the middle of the afternoon.

  Savanna found the same article on her phone and texted the link to Gavin along with a note that said, This is the girl. She needed to talk to someone, especially him after what’d happened last night, but when she didn’t hear back right away, she assumed he’d gone to bed.

  After a final check on her kids, and a silent prayer that Branson could get through the night without another accident so he wouldn’t feel so terrible in the morning, she told herself to be strong. She couldn’t start leaning on Gavin. She couldn’t lean on anyone.

  She was just putting on her nightgown when she heard her phone ping. Although she feared it might be Dorothy, or even Detective Sullivan giving her some last-minute warning or instructions for tomorrow, it was Gavin.

  Are you okay? he’d written.

  Relieved that he’d responded, she sat on the bed. The way dinner had gone, she couldn’t help but question what he was thinking and feeling. I’m fine. A little nervous about tomorrow, is all.

  Want me to come over while you talk to Gordon?

  Don’t you have to work?

  I could go in late. I have more sick days than I could ever take.

  I’d rather not burden you with that. Just wanted you to see the girl. I wish I could say he’d never target someone like her, but I can’t. She’s beautiful, don’t you think?

  No question. But he had an even more beautiful wife waiting for him at home, so that doesn’t explain it.

  Reading that made her feel so much better. Somehow, intertwined with all the other emotions she’d been experiencing lately lurked the depressing thought that she hadn’t been enough for the one man she’d tried to give everything.

  Thank you for being so kind.

  It’s true. Are you sure you don’t want me to come over tomorrow while you take that call? For moral support, if nothing else? I’d like to make sure that detective doesn’t push you any more than he already has.

  I shouldn’t even have to talk to Sullivan tomorrow. He’s set everything up. I’m supposed to text him if the call comes in, and that’s it. He’ll get the recording from whoever handles that sort of thing at the jail.

  What if the call doesn’t come in?

  I wait until it does. Then I text him. But now that you’ve offered to help...

  What can I do?

  Because of what I might have to say to get Gordon upset, I’d rather not have the kids around to overhear the conversation. If you really wouldn’t mind missing a little work, it would be nice if Branson and Alia could come to your place for that hour when he’s most likely to call.

  When do you think that will be?

  I sent a text to his mother earlier, told her to have him call me at ten. I think he’ll do that if he can. I’ve never requested a call before, so he should be curious if nothing else. Anyway, if I’m here alone, I’ll be able to go after him the way the detective wants me to without having to watch my words and language.

  Are you sure you want to do this, Savanna?

  I don’t see any way out of it. I have to help Emma’s parents, if I can. And if I’m going to help, I might as well go all the way. Make it count.

  The kids can certainly come here. I’ll take them to the park in town to see the ducks and get ice cream.

  You don’t have to go to that much trouble. They’ll be excited just to hang out with you. :)

  I’d rather make it fun so they’ll want to come back.

  He didn’t understand that simply being around him was fun—for all of them. Thank you.

  She hoped he’d continue the conversation. The more contact she had with him, the more contact she wanted. But he wrapped up the conversation with No problem. See you tomorrow.

  * * *

  “Who was that?”

  As he put his phone back on the nightstand, Gavin glanced over at Heather, who was on the other side of the bed. When his screen had lit up, he’d waited a few minutes, hoping Heather would fall asleep. They’d been lying still for fifteen minutes or more—he deep in thought. But it was too much to hope for that she wouldn’t notice his text exchange. That it was such a long one didn’t help. He would’ve sent Heather home except she was now claiming to be afraid of Scott. If she was truly afraid, if Scott had threatened her as she claimed, he didn’t want to put her in a bad situation, especially now that she was pregnant. And he couldn’t give her his bed and sleep out on the couch, even though he would’ve preferred it. That would’ve offended her for sure, since they’d made love so many times in the past.

  Hopefully, once he’d gone without sex for a while, he’d be more interested in getting intimate with her again. It was just too soon, an awkward time, given everything that’d happened recently.

  “It’s no one,” he said.

  “Who would text you this late?”

  “My mother. Eli. A gig. Any one of my friends. A lot of people. It’s not that late. It’s only ten.”

  “So was it Eli? Or someone else?”

  “It was a friend.”

  “Which friend?”

  He punched his pillow. “Heather, I’m exhausted. Can we go to sleep?”

  She fell silent and remained that way for so long that Gavin finally began to drift off—only to be jerked back to consciousness when she said, “Something’s wrong. It’s different with you this time.”

  Stifling a frustrated groan, Gavin pretended not to hear her, and eventually she fell asleep. At least, he assumed she did. The next thing he knew the sun was peering through the blinds, and she was up and rushing to get home so she could shower and dress before she had to be at school to teach her fifth graders.

  * * *

  Gavin breathed a sigh of relief when Heather left with only a quick hug for him. Thank God she’d been in too much of a hurry to demand they talk—or suggest they do anything else. After last night, he realized how badly he needed some time to acclimate to the decision he’d made and to file away the feelings he had for Savanna. He thought it would be nice to let things calm down with Scott, too, before he and Heather were seen all over town together. They had months before the baby was born; he didn’t see any reason they had to move fast.

  He made a pot of coffee and a plate of fried eggs. Then he called his mother to let her know he wouldn’t be in until noon and carried his guitar out on the porch. He wasn’t quite finished with what he’d been writing recently, but lyrics
for another song were beginning to take shape in his mind. He closed his eyes as he pictured Savanna smiling at him just after having removed her blouse and tried to capture the promise of that smile and the way it’d made everything inside him go a little crazy.

  Two hours disappeared in what felt like two minutes, but he had a new song written by the time Branson and Alia came running down the road with Savanna walking more slowly behind them.

  “Ready to go to the park?” Gavin called out.

  “My mom gave me money to buy bread.” Branson waved a few bills in his hand. “She said we might be able to feed the ducks!”

  Gavin set his guitar aside. “You will be able to feed them. And I’ve already got a loaf of bread that’s too stale to eat, so we’re all set.”

  “Do they bite?” Alia, breathless from trying to keep up with her brother, sounded much less excited by the idea.

  “Some of the geese can be a little aggressive if you rush them, but the ducks are usually tame.” He winked at her. “Anyway, you have nothing to worry about because I’ll be there to make sure nothing happens to you.”

  She gave him a sweet smile. “I like your hair,” she said. “I wish mine was that long.”

  He laughed. If he was getting such envious compliments from little girls, he obviously needed an edgier look.

  He shaded his eyes so that he could see Savanna despite the glare of the sun. She was wearing a pair of jeans with a T-shirt that made the most of her beautiful figure, but she looked tired and stressed as she approached. “How’d you sleep?” he asked.

  “Not well,” she replied. “Mostly tossed and turned. You?”

  “I managed to do a little better than that.”

  “Good. I, uh—” she went slightly red in the face “—kept you pretty busy night before last, so I’m sure you needed the rest.”

  “I didn’t mind losing sleep.”

  She flashed him a self-conscious grin. “Thanks for saying that. I came on so strong I’ve been afraid that maybe it was...too strong.”

  “No. You did nothing wrong, nothing I didn’t like.”

  When their eyes met and held, he wondered what it was about this woman. She got to him on such a gut level. He couldn’t help letting his gaze slide down to her mouth. He wanted to taste her again... “You could’ve used a good night’s sleep yourself,” he said.

  “Tonight will be better, providing I get that call I’m expecting.”

  “What call?” Branson wrinkled his nose as he looked up at his mother.

  “I’m dealing with some of the contractors who will be fixing our house this morning, remember?” she said, letting Gavin know that they weren’t aware she might be speaking to their father.

  Gavin tried to draw Branson’s and Alia’s attention. “Have you ever seen a guitar up close?”

  “No.” Branson crouched down to get a better look. “Can you play it?”

  “I can,” Gavin told him. “I play it all the time.”

  “Will you play it for us?”

  Before he could answer, Alia added, “And sing for us, too?”

  “Sure.” Gavin slung his guitar over his shoulder. “What would you like to hear?”

  They looked to their mother to answer for them. “I’m not sure what type of songs you do,” Savanna said.

  “I play folk rock, blues, soul, even a little pop rock.”

  “Is there a song you’ve been doing a lot lately?”

  “I’ll play one that’s been going over pretty well at my shows. It’s the only true country song I do, but I’ve thrown it into my set because some of the bars I play are out in farming communities, and they typically like country music.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  He sang Keith Urban’s “Blue Ain’t Your Color” but, considering the lyrics, decided afterward that it probably wasn’t the wisest choice. By the time he finished, he and Savanna were staring at each other with such naked longing he felt transfixed.

  “You sing good!” Alia piped up, shattering the moment and reminding him that they weren’t alone.

  He cleared his throat as he put down his guitar. “Thanks. I plan on moving to Nashville soon.”

  Savanna’s eyebrows shot up. “Nashville! How soon?”

  He had to leave Silver Springs, he realized. Right away. Even if Aiyana wasn’t ready to marry Cal. He’d been trying to wait, but his peace of mind was at stake. He could never be the kind of husband he wanted to be to Heather—the kind of husband he’d always envisioned himself as being—when he wanted Savanna instead. And that would impact the kind of father he was, too. So he had to get far away from her. “In the next couple of months,” he replied.

  That was fast to plan and execute a move, especially because he had to find a replacement for himself at New Horizons before he could leave town. Even still, as he remembered Savanna arching her back to meet his thrusts, her hands fisted in his hair and her mouth open and receptive beneath his, he wasn’t convinced it would be fast enough. Two months would equal sixty nights he’d have to overcome the temptation to return to her bed...

  “We’d better get over to the park,” he told the kids, putting his guitar in the house and locking up before helping them into his truck.

  15

  Why hadn’t Gavin mentioned that he was planning to move?

  Savanna felt sucker punched. The news had come out of nowhere. Hadn’t he just bought his house? Why would he purchase a property knowing that he’d be leaving the area in such a short time?

  It didn’t make sense. The Gavin who’d come to dinner last night and the Gavin she’d spoken to this morning were somehow different from the Gavin who’d built the makeshift bridge and spent the night in her bed. The old Gavin had been easygoing, unguarded, and made no secret of his interest in her. This Gavin seemed to be backing away in spite of that interest.

  Was it the sex that’d changed him? Made him decide to leave town?

  It was ridiculous to even speculate that could be the reason. He’d told her, in so many words, that he’d enjoyed being with her. And yet...it was that night that seemed to have changed everything.

  Suddenly bereft—as if she was about to lose her only friend, since that was sort of the case—she stood in his yard, forcing herself to wave and smile while he drove off with her children. Then she stared down at her phone. Without the brief flash of joy Gavin had brought into her life, she’d be left with nothing but work. The work involved in rebuilding the farmhouse. The work involved in rebuilding her family. The work involved in rebuilding herself. And amid all of that work she’d probably learn more and more about Gordon’s crimes. She might even be called upon to do more of the same type of thing the detective had asked her to do today.

  She was about to call Sullivan to tell him she couldn’t get involved, after all. She wanted out. But the memory of Emma Ventnor’s parents clinging to each other on that news clip she’d watched, begging for anyone with information to come forward, made her resist canceling. She wasn’t doing it for Sullivan. She was doing it for them, for two people she wished she could help in any way possible.

  She’d just started for home when her phone rang.

  The call was coming from the county jail. Gordon. Here he was. Apparently, his mother had been able to pass along the message Savanna had asked her to.

  Instead of finishing the walk home, Savanna returned to the shade of Gavin’s porch, drew a steadying breath and answered. “Hello?”

  After the usual rhetoric about the call being collect and recorded, she heard her former husband’s voice.

  “Savanna, thank you for taking my call.” He sounded slightly surprised and yet relieved that she’d broken down.

  She took the chair Gavin used when playing his guitar. “I only accepted because I read something that has me totally freak
ed out, Gordon. And I want to hear you say you didn’t do it.”

  Leery now—she could feel it in the sudden tension between them—he paused before responding. “What are you talking about?”

  “Another case.”

  “Oh, give me a break!” His emotions switched to irritation. “The police are going to try to pin anything they can on me. But I’m innocent, like I’ve told you. Look at it practically if you don’t believe me. There’s no way one person could do everything they claim.”

  She wondered how many wives of other serial rapists or murderers had heard similar logic. “This isn’t a rape.”

  “Then why’d you bring it up?”

  “Because a girl, only sixteen, has been missing for almost a year.”

  “Emma Ventnor. I should’ve guessed. I don’t want to talk about her.”

  He should’ve guessed? What did that signify? And why didn’t he want to talk about her? Was he ashamed, guilt-ridden?

  Savanna gripped the phone tighter. “Then you’re aware of the case.”

  “Of course. She lived in Bingham, not far from Kennecott Copper. When she went missing, it was all over the news. But I didn’t hurt her. They won’t be able to pin her death on me.”

  “Death?” she echoed. “How do you know she’s dead?”

  “It’s been a year since they found her car on the side of the road. Where do you think she is?”

  “They haven’t found her body.”

  “If it’s been this long, they’re not going to find it. She’s probably out in the woods somewhere—or a lake—fully decomposed. Whoever got her was smart.”

  “Sounds like you admire him...”

  “I’m so sick of the police it’s hard not to start rooting for the bad guys.”