Connecting Strangers (Discovering Emily)

by Rachel Carrington

  “Here.” Adam wraps a fluffy robe around my shoulders. “Go get in the shower, and I’ll find your clothes.”

  “Francine is going to kill me,” I mutter, eyeing my pillow like it’s a piece of chocolate.

  “She’s not going to kill you. You’re not the first person to arrive late for a shift.”

  With my hand on the door knob to the bathroom, I look back at him, and last night returns to me like a dash of cold water. “She hired me so she could take some time off not so she could cover for me. I’ll be out in a minute.” I’m sure my voice is as cold as the floor beneath my feet.

  “Hey.” He’s up and standing in front of me before I can make my escape. “What’s wrong?”

  “Who said anything’s wrong?”

  His gaze sweeps me from head to toe before returning to my face. “Because you’re not acting like yourself.”

  “How would you know what I’m really like? Five days doesn’t make you an expert.” My words are harsh, but I don’t retract them.

  “Okay.” He drags the word out. “Now I know something’s wrong. Did I say something to piss you off? If I did, you’re going to have to fill me in.” He keeps his tone level which irritates me.

  “You didn’t say a thing. Now I’m going to go get in the shower. Please find my clothes. I’ll need to leave as soon as I’m done.” I slip into the bathroom just as his cell phone rings. Adam answers as I close the door. I’m turning on the shower when the door opens.

  “Forget about the shower. We have to go.”

  My heart leaps at the urgency in his tone. “Why? What’s wrong?” I’m already brushing past him to get to my clothes. He’s put them on the bed, and I dress quickly.

  “Francine had to take Art to the hospital. He got into some kind of fight. I don’t know all the details.”

  “Art was fighting?” Though Francine’s brother has the build for fighting, I can’t picture him doing much beyond yelling. That gruff exterior of his is nothing but a façade. Or, at least, I thought it was.

  “That’s what Francine said.” Adam snags his keys from the foyer table and lets me out the door ahead of him.

  “Has he ever done this before?”

  “He used to do it a lot when he was drinking, but he’s been on the wagon for over ten years.”

  “Francine didn’t say how badly he was hurt?”

  “Not as badly as the other guy. They’re both there. She called because they’re both still raising all hell at the hospital.”

  I relax a little. If Art’s okay enough to still be causing trouble, he must not be hurt all that badly. “You don’t think he’s started back drinking, do you?”

  Adam switches on the turn signal. “At ten o’clock in the morning? He wasn’t that bad before he got sober.”

  The ride to the hospital takes less than five minutes. As we walk through the emergency room doors, we can hear the shouting coming down the hallway. Adam’s deputy, Gary, is standing in front of Art, his hands outstretched.

  “Now, Art, you just need to calm down.”

  “I ain’t interested in calming down!” Art tries to get around Gary, and the two men scuffle while the deputy curses.

  “Dammit, Art, I don’t want to have to arrest you!”

  Adam puts his hand on Art’s shoulder, and both men turn to look at him. Relief pours over Gary’s face. “Sheriff, it’s good to see you.”

  “So who wants to tell me what’s going on?”

  Art folds his arms across his chest and glares. “Bastard came to Francine’s house talking about how he was going to make her real sorry if she didn’t give him some information. When I looked out the window and saw a stranger standing at her back door, I went over there to see what was going on. That’s when I heard him threatening her. Ain’t no son-of-a-bitch gonna threaten my sister.”

  Francine comes down the hallway, holding two cups of coffee. When she sees me, all the color drains from her face. Dumping the coffee into the nearest trashcan, she rushes toward me. “You have to get out of here.” She starts shoving me backwards.

  My feet skid on the slick tile floors. “What? What are you talking about?” I try to stay in one place, but Francine’s strength enables her to propel me past the emergency desk.

  “Francine, what are you doing?”

  “I’d like to know the same thing.” Adam intercedes before she can push me into an elevator.

  After a quick look over her shoulder, Francine lowers her voice to a hiss. “That man Art fought, he came here looking for you, Emily.”

  “Is it Mark?” I whisper even though I know Francine can’t answer the question. She doesn’t know what he looks like. I slip out of her grasp and move slowly back toward the exam rooms, needing to know if he’s found me.

  “Emily, wait.” Adam catches up with me and takes hold of my arm. “There’s no reason you have to see him. This is a police matter now.”

  I start to protest, but a pair of broad shoulders come into view, and I tense. It’s not Mark, but I recognize the figure. “His name is Jeremy Braddock. He’s Mark’s best friend.” And he will do anything for Mark, even if it means going to jail. He’s done it before when Mark needed an alibi for a bar fight that got too violent. The reminder kicks me in the stomach. The noose from my vision is tightening around my neck.

  Adam’s head swivels, and he pins Jeremy with a look that could peel the rust off nails. “Wait here.” He bites out the order before striding toward Jeremy.

  I couldn’t move if I wanted. Mark has found me, and he’s sent his friend as a warning. Jeremy isn’t here to bring me back. He’s brought a message. Mark is on his way.

  Chapter Nine

  “You have to talk to her.” Francine’s voice is strident as she follows Adam down the hallway to the guest bedroom in her house. “She insisting on leaving when she doesn’t have anywhere to go.”

  She’s right. I don’t have anywhere to go, but staying in Juniper Springs isn’t an option. I should have remembered it isn’t far enough away, but each day that passed, I let logic fall by the wayside. I gave myself permission to believe I could have a future that didn’t include Mark Metzger.

  “Why are you leaving?” Adam is standing in the doorway, and the expression on his face is a mixture of anger and disbelief. Maybe even hurt. I can’t tell.

  “You know why. He’s found me.” The clothes on my bed are piled in a heap. There’s no time to be neat about packing.

  “So that’s reason to run?”

  “I’m not running. I’m protecting people I care about.” I yank open the top dresser drawer and scoop out the lingerie Francine had bought me.

  Adam stands in my way. “Call it what you want. If you do it, you’ll be running for the rest of your life.”

  “Mark didn’t send Jeremy just to find me. He wanted his friend to warn my friends. If they get in the way, he’ll move them.”

  “You think we’ve lived all of our lives here without knowing how to take care of ourselves and one another? Emily, listen to me.”

  I’m too antsy to stop and listen. My mind is telling me to go so my hands stay busy.

  “Dammit, Emily.” Adam takes hold of my shoulders and holds me in one place. “Look at me and listen. Mark isn’t going to hurt you again. I won’t let him.”

  “I know that. It’s your job to protect people.” I slip beneath his arms and return to my suitcase. The bite in my tone seems to bounce right off of him.

  “What? You really think this has anything to do with my job?”

  “I’m only going by what you said.” I peek back at him, and he has a blank look on his face.

  Francine makes a disgusted noise. “Sometimes you have to spell it out for them, Emily. He is, after all, only a man.”

  “Stay out of this, Francine.” Adam’s temper is rising, and he’s pinning me with a look that means business. “Now what are you talking about?”

  “Last night. You told me that protecting me is your job. I don’t want to add to your
duties.” My voice sharpens on the last word.

  “Is that why I got frostbite off of you this morning?” He’s back in front of me, closing the gap between our bodies until the heat rushing off his singes mine. “It didn’t mean what you think it meant.” He stops, looks over his shoulder. “Francine, don’t you have somewhere to be?”

  She stands her ground with a stubborn thrust of her chin. “Not particularly, no. And from the look of things, you two could use a mediator.”

  Ignoring her, Adam faces me again. “Yes, making sure people are safe is part of my job, but standing between you and Mark is different. You are…” he stops talking and lets out a breath. “You’re not just a job to me. You haven’t been since the moment I saw you.”

  My anger slowly deflates only to be replaced by sadness that wraps itself around my heart. I touch his face with gentle fingertips. “Fear can make me irrational sometimes.” I lean my head into his chest.

  He cups the back of my head. “I get that. It’s okay.”

  “But you can’t get in the middle of me and Mark. Not even that badge and gun of yours is going to stop him.”

  “I don’t need either to keep him from you. Guys like him don’t stand up to men. They prefer to torment women, and when I tell you he won’t get anywhere near you as long as you’re here, it’s a promise.”

  Francine nods her head. “He’ll have to go through me first, and, as you can see, I’ve got a big brother with a hell of a right hook. That bastard friend of Mark’s might have gotten in a couple of good licks, but he’s the one with the broken ribs. Art fights a little mean.” She sniffs and shrugs. “But he gets the job done.”

  I sit on the edge of the bed, my fingers curled tightly around a soft, cotton shirt hanging out of my suitcase. “The night I decided to leave Mark, I knew I was taking a risk, but I was okay with that. It was just me. My life I was risking. I can’t ask any of you to put yourselves in danger.”

  “So don’t ask.” Adam sits next to me, puts his hand on my leg. “It’s time to fight back, Emily, and you can’t do it alone. It takes an army to kick a dictator’s ass.” He cups my cheek and glides his thumb across my lower lip. “We can be your army.”

  I close my eyes and lean into his strength, my resolve weakening. I know Mark’s capabilities, and the fear is so strong it’s almost crippling. I want to be strong, to show him there’s more to me than the cheerleader who worshipped him in high school. But I don’t know if I’m ready.

  Adam’s offer of strength might help me, but at what cost? Would Francine end up paying for my acceptance in the end? Or would Adam bear the brunt of Mark’s fury?

  “Stop overthinking it.” Adam interrupts my musings. “You have a chance to start over here. Are you going to throw that away because your ex-boyfriend is an asshole?”

  The question brings a smile to my face. What I’ve found here in Juniper Springs gives me hope, and I don’t want to lose it. When my gaze meets Adam’s, I silently give him my answer.

  Art leans across the counter, a shiner covering his right eye. He’s sharing the full story with three of his customers who are taking great delight in every detail. They grin each time he swings a fist to demonstrate how he whacked Jeremy.

  “Each time he tells that story the number of times he thumped that guy will double.” There’s laughter in Francine’s voice.

  “Now will you tell me about that phone call you got yesterday?” I give her a look that I hope tells her I mean business.

  “It was someone asking for you. When that Jeremy guy showed up, I recognized his voice. If Art hadn’t come over when he did, I was going to cross his eyes with a baseball bat. I already had it in my hand.” She grins. “I’ve never been good with a gun, but I could hit a 90mph fast ball on the first try. Imagine what I could do with a head the size of Jeremy’s.” She waggles her eyebrows, and I start laughing.

  Her attempts to take my mind off Mark’s next move are working. The amount of customers pouring through the door doesn’t hurt, either. Since word of Art’s fight has gotten around, Baby’s Diner has been packed wall to wall. Coming in to help with the crowd was the least I could do to make up for his bruised eye.

  “I asked Adam if Jeremy said anything about pressing charges against Art, but he didn’t know.” I glance at Art who, by this time, has an audience of seven men and two women, all listening to his story with rapt attention. “Now that I think about it, though, he won’t press charges. That isn’t what he was here for, and it would interfere with Mark’s plans.”

  Francine hands me a new ticket book. “Plans don’t always come to fruition.” She nudges me with her shoulder.

  “Adam said he was going to have a talk with Jeremy.” It’s already been two hours since I’ve seen him, and he hasn’t called. I’m anxious to hear about the conversation. Most importantly, I want to know what Mark’s next move is.

  The bell over the door jingles, and several men walk in together, each trying to crowd the other out of the doorway.

  “For the love of Pete,” Francine mutters and moves to intercept before the pushing match escalates.

  I watch as she calms everyone down and offers them coffee. Then I realize someone is watching me, and I look back to the door. Adam is standing just inside the diner. He isn’t moving, and when my gaze meets his, I know something is wrong. Really wrong. I place a cup of coffee in front of a customer at the counter and slip through the crowd of people to greet him.

  “Hey. Did you get a chance to talk to Jeremy?”

  He takes hold of my arm. “We need to talk. Let’s go into the kitchen.”

  Whatever he has to say isn’t going to be good. My feet move like they have leaden weights tied to them. From behind me, I hear Francine’s shoes slapping against the tile. She’s right on our heels.

  “Francine, I need to speak to Emily alone.”

  “Whatever you have to say to her, you can say to me and Art because this doesn’t look like it’s going to be good news.” She barrels into the kitchen behind us and comes around to block Adam’s path. “What’s going on?” Arms folded, she looks ready to do battle.

  Adam rubs a hand over his face and looks like he’s ready to argue then he shakes his head. “Dammit. I don’t want to do this.”

  “What is it?” I keep my voice soft because I don’t have much oxygen. There’s no sense even trying to brace myself. Whatever he’s about to say is going to be bad. I just have to hang on the best I can.

  Hazel eyes fill with regret. “I just got a call from the Sheriff in Ogilvie County.”

  I can’t breathe.

  “There’s a warrant for your arrest. I’m to hold you at our jail until a deputy gets here to take you back to Broomtown.”

  My heart drops, and I close my eyes. Francine speaks for me. “What’s the charge?”

  “Attempted murder.”

  The handcuffs dangle around my wrists, too loose to really do any good. Francine protests when Adam puts them on me, but he tells her it’s procedure. At least he leads me out the back door so the diners can’t see my humiliation.

  We don’t speak as he places his hand atop my head, and I slide into the backseat of the cruiser. Francine rushes out, waving her hands wildly.

  “You can’t do this, Adam. You know that girl ain’t guilty of anything of the sort, and if you do this, you’re giving that ex of hers exactly what he wants.”

  “I don’t have a choice, Francine. I have to uphold the law whether I like it or not.” His gaze drops to my face. “And I don’t like it. I wish you’d told me.”

  “I couldn’t. Not yet.”

  “And now it’s out of your hands.” Adam’s jaw clenches, and he leans in to me, putting his face so close to mine his warm breath caresses my cheek. “I can’t fix this without your help.”

  I draw back and look away. “You can’t fix this at all, Adam.”

  With a curse, he straightens. Before he can close the door, Francine wedges her body in the gap. “I won’t let you do this.
You’re not taking her.”

  “Francine, for the love of all that’s holy!” Art storms toward his sister, his round face flushed from the heat of the stoves. “You can’t interfere with the sheriff. He’s just doing his job.”

  “A little too well in my opinion.” She leans in and pats my face with her fingertips. “Don’t you worry, Emily. We’re gonna get you a good lawyer. In the meantime, you just keep quiet. Not a word.” She wags a finger then pulls back to glare at Adam. “Don’t you try to get any information out of her, Adam Madison. She has the right to keep silent.”

  “Which I’ve told her.” Anger creeps into his voice. “You think I want to do this? I have an arrest warrant. A deputy from Broomtown will be here tomorrow morning to transfer custody, and—”

  “Tomorrow morning!” Francine thumps him in the chest with the back of her hand. “You expect her to stay in that drafty old cell all night? Why can’t those lazy asses get here any sooner? It’s not like we’re five hundred miles away.”

  “The sheriff said they were short-handed.”

  Adam’s getting tired of the discussion. The tension in his jaw shows it, but Francine misses the obvious and plows on. “That’s some bullshit if I ever heard it.”

  “Francine, you don’t know anything about it. It could be true.” Art takes hold of her arm and tries to rein her in, but she shakes him off like he’s nothing more than a bothersome fly.

  “What I know is that Emily didn’t try to kill anyone, least of all that useless ex of hers. And even if she did,” she spares me an apologetic look, “she was completely within her rights. I’ll bet it was self-defense.”

  “That’s up to a jury to decide.” Adam tries to move Francine back, but she isn’t budging. “I need to take her in. Nothing you can say will change my mind.”