by Laura Scott
“Very smart, and I want you to be sure.” He kept the car in reverse. “Downtown Chattanooga is only about twenty miles from here.”
“Positive.” Her voice was firm. “I very much appreciate your offer, thank you.”
It was his turn to hesitate. Sawyer knew he was crossing the line, as a cop he shouldn’t bring Naomi anywhere near his home. But he couldn’t turn his back on her situation either. And they were only five minutes from his place.
Hoping he wouldn’t regret the impulse, he put the squad in gear and continued down the road toward his cabin. Naomi would be safe there, and he’d help her find her car and get money in the morning. It was the least he could do. By helping her, he’d feel as if he were belatedly helping his foster sisters.
Chattanooga wasn’t a large city compared to Nashville or Knoxville, but Sawyer preferred living away from others. A holdover from the years he’d spent with the Preacher.
When they weren’t being beaten with a switch or forced to kneel and pray for their sins for hours on end, they had been homeschooled by the Preacher’s wife, Ruth. And they’d done chores, like cleaning the cabin and caring for the vegetable garden.
Sawyer had enjoyed garden duty and had studied the plants native to the area around Cherokee, North Carolina, with great interest. And he’d eventually used that knowledge to his advantage.
When he realized he was gripping the steering wheel tightly enough to make his knuckles white, he forced himself to relax.
Thirteen years ago, his life had irrevocably changed forever. The horrible fire that had broken out in the Preacher’s cabin had nearly killed them all. He and the other foster kids had been forced to sleep in the cellar, and he still wasn’t sure how they’d managed to escape.
But the Preacher and his wife, Ruth, had died in the fire that night.
And Sawyer knew that their deaths were his fault. Because of what he’d done. Guilt still ate at him, even all these years later.
Not that he’d intended the Preacher and Ruth to die. Because he hadn’t.
But the end result was undeniable.
To this day, he’d never told anyone what he’d done. It was a secret he’d kept all these years.
One he planned to take to his grave.
Chapter Two
Naomi’s mind spun in a dozen different directions. She couldn’t quite figure out why she felt safe with Officer Sawyer Murphy. She should be avoiding all men, yet the cop who’d rescued her had been nothing but respectful and considerate of her situation. She hadn’t gotten any of the creepy vibes from him that she’d sensed the minute leering man had grabbed her. She even found herself believing his comment about being in the foster system.
Yet she also sensed Officer Murphy had a loner mentality.
His cabin was surprisingly warm and comfortable. Unusually clean and tidy, which made her realize he might have a girlfriend, someone who visited on a regular basis. For all she knew, his girlfriend might even clean for him.
“Are you hungry?” He glanced at her as she sank into a seat at the solid oak kitchen table. “I was planning to throw in a frozen pizza for dinner.”
“That would be nice, thanks.” Naomi watched as he turned on the oven, then pulled the pizza out of the freezer. “I want to thank you again for bringing me here. I hope you don’t get in trouble or anything. I’m sure this isn’t exactly standard protocol.”
He glanced at her. “No, it’s not. But it’s the least I can do.”
She nodded, her thoughts finally coming together. She probably needed to come clean, to tell him about her younger half sister’s disappearance. Now that she was safe, she couldn’t be sure the leering man who’d grabbed her after running her into the ditch was the same one involved in Kate’s disappearance. There could be more than one man out there interested in grabbing young attractive girls for nefarious purposes.
Officer Murphy would think she’s crazy if she tried to explain how she’d followed the boxy white van out of Dalton, Georgia. She’d been run off the road roughly twenty minutes later, just after crossing into Tennessee. She gave herself a mental shake. Why had she bothered following the white van at all? There had to be thousands of white vans driving around the country. Okay, they weren’t all boxy in shape, but still.
Except the fact that she’d been rear-ended and grabbed indicated she might have been on the right track. Unless she’d become a target because she looked younger than her actual age.
It was all so confusing. The near miss of being killed, staggering.
“Naomi?” She lifted her head, belatedly realizing Officer Murphy was talking to her.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” She flushed beneath his dark curious gaze.
“I’m going to change out of my uniform and wanted to know if you’d like to borrow one of my T-shirts. It will be too big, but it’s clean.”
She glanced down at her torn, bloodstained, and dirty shirt. “That would be nice, thank you.”
“I’ll be back in a moment. Keep an eye on the pizza.” He disappeared down a short hallway, presumably leading to the bedrooms.
She drew a hand through her tangled hair and tried to think of the best way to approach the topic of her missing sister. Maybe tomorrow morning was soon enough. Hadn’t he mentioned taking her to the station to take her statement?
Naomi had to believe the men in the black Buick were long gone. If they had intended to kill her and leave her in the woods, there’d be no reason for them to stick around. And for all she knew, the white van had doubled back to head south toward Atlanta, or north toward Nashville.
To give herself something to do other than stew about the mistakes she’d made, Naomi rose and went over to crack the oven door. The pizza wasn’t close to being ready.
When she heard a noise behind her, she startled badly, banging into the oven as she spun around. Officer Murphy stood there, wearing casual clothes, jeans and a short-sleeved shirt, holding a dark blue T-shirt in his hand.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” His dark gaze was sympathetic as he held out the shirt. “Bathroom is down the hall to your right. It has a lock on the door, just as the spare bedroom does.”
“Thanks.” The spurt of adrenaline sent her pulse into double digits. She tried to slow her breathing as she took the offered T-shirt and edged around him to find the bathroom. The way he’d reassured her about the locks made her glad she’d decided to trust him.
After closing the door behind her, she carefully set the clean shirt on the top of the commode. The cotton fabric was soft and carried a hint of Sawyer Murphy’s musky scent. She told herself to get a grip and washed at the sink, scrubbing the dirt from her hands and face.
She wasn’t looking for a man. Certainly not one who lived so far from her home. It had only been two months since she’d broken things off with Tony Baldwin, her former boyfriend. And truthfully, she hadn’t missed him very much. His working night shift at a local carpet factory while she worked days at the outpatient health clinic meant they didn’t see each other often.
And when they had been together, they’d often argued.
Tony claimed she was difficult and unrealistic when it came to her expectations about a relationship. And he was probably right. She’d been mildly attracted to him, but the fact that he’d pressed so hard for intimacy had bothered her. He should have respected her desire to wait.
Instead, he’d given her an ultimatum. So she’d walked away.
Obviously, she was better off without him. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, wincing at the mess of her hair. Using her fingers, she tried to comb through the tangles. Her efforts weren’t very successful.
Whatever. She wasn’t here to win a beauty contest.
When Naomi returned to the kitchen, she found two places had been set at the table. The domesticated scene made her want to smile.
“I have water and a variety of soft drinks.” He raised a brow. “Which would you prefer?”
“Water is
fine.” She was one of those weird creatures that didn’t like the taste of most soft drinks. Coffee or water, those were her staples in life.
Officer Murphy filled two glasses with ice water and handed one to her. “Sit down, the pizza will be ready soon.”
She sipped her water and resumed her seat. Her stomach rumbled loudly, making her blush. “I haven’t eaten in a while.”
He eyed her thoughtfully for a moment. “I can always make a second pizza.”
“No, this should be fine.” How embarrassing.
He pulled the pizza from the oven and set about cutting it into triangles. When that was finished, he set it in the center of the table.
Naomi clasped her hands in her lap and sent up a quick silent prayer thanking God for bringing Officer Murphy to her aid and for the food they were about to eat. When she lifted her head, she noticed Officer Murphy was sitting motionless, waiting for her to finish.
“Thanks again for dinner, Officer Murphy,” she said, reaching for another slice.
“You may as well call me Sawyer,” he said dryly. “I’m officially off duty.”
She nodded but didn’t respond as her mouth was already full of the tangy pizza and gooey melted cheese.
“Are you sure you don’t have someone you can call?”
She chewed, swallowed, then glanced at him. “I have a friend, Amy, but she’s working over the next few days. I’d hate to have her miss work.”
“What about family?” Sawyer pressed.
She stared down at her pizza for a long moment, the meal congealing in her stomach. “Would it be okay if we talk about this tomorrow?”
He stared at her as if trying to read what was going through her mind. She couldn’t very well call Kate as her half sister was missing. And their mother was gone, having died of cancer six months ago. Her stepfather had left years ago, leaving Naomi solely responsible for Kate’s welfare.
No way was she going to call Tony, which left her co-workers at the clinic as the only alternative for help. Co-workers that she wasn’t all that close to as she was still relatively new in her clinic nurse role. Amy was the nicest of the bunch, but honestly, they weren’t that close. Besides, she’d called in sick for her shifts, something they wouldn’t appreciate.
“Sure,” Sawyer finally agreed. “Tomorrow morning works fine.”
Her appetite had vanished, but she forced herself to eat anyway. Supporting her sister had taught her to take advantage of eating when the opportunity presented itself. Not that they’d gone hungry often, but there had been some difficult times when she’d struggled to make the mortgage payments.
Now her sister was gone and her damaged car was likely towed. Naomi felt as if her entire world was crumbling down upon her. She felt helpless, considering the Dalton police department hadn’t done squat to find Kate, emphasizing the fact that there had been no indication of foul play.
Would Sawyer Murphy believe Kate to be a runaway as well? The boxy white van a figment of her imagination?
Or would he believe her?
Sawyer could tell something was bothering Naomi. More, he thought, than narrowly escaping two men who’d kidnapped her.
But she apparently wasn’t ready to confide in him. It went against the grain to sit by and wait until morning, but the beautiful woman seated across from him was so pale, tense, and skittish, he couldn’t bear to force the issue. He wanted to help those in need, the way Joe had done for him.
If Joseph Kohl hadn’t given Sawyer a helping hand eleven years ago, his own life would have likely turned out very different. After learning he was stealing to eat, the cop who’d arrested him had dropped the charges and brought Sawyer home with him. At the time, Sawyer had considered stealing from the burly cop, then hightailing it out of there. To this day, he wasn’t sure what had made him change his mind. Sawyer had stayed, taking the offered food, clothing, and shelter. Amazingly, all had been provided with no strings attached.
Over time, Joe’s support had helped him lose the chip on his shoulder and let go of his past. Joe hadn’t necessarily said much about God, but one statement had stuck with Sawyer. Let go of the hate or there will be no room for love. Sawyer had done his best to honor the cop’s wishes, except letting go of the hate he’d harbored toward the Preacher and his wife.
Sawyer wished Cooper and Trent had stayed with him, but within that first rough year after escaping the Preacher, the two boys had taken off, insisting on going their own way. At the time, it had been all Sawyer could do to take care of himself. When Joe had rescued him, and the burly cop had heard his story, Joe had insisted on trying to find his foster brothers. Without success.
Shaking off the morose thought, he focused on the present. When Naomi finished her three slices of pizza, she stood and began clearing the table. “I can do it,” he protested, reaching for the last slice.
“It’s the least I can do.” She avoided his direct gaze, and he found himself wondering if she might disappear in the dead of night. Although, really, where could she go on foot? Chattanooga was twenty miles from here.
He quickly finished the last of the pizza. “Let me show you the guest room,” he offered. “I have a spare toothbrush, and you should feel free to borrow anything else you might need.”
“Thanks again.” She dried her hands on a dishtowel.
The situation was awkward, to say the least. He led the way to the guest room, then disappeared into the bathroom to grab the extra toothbrush and small sample toothpaste he’d recently gotten from the dentist’s office.
“Make yourself at home, Naomi.” He smiled, then backed out of the room, providing the privacy she deserved.
He waited until she’d finished in the bathroom before taking his turn. Afterward, he crawled into bed and tried to sleep.
Unfortunately, the day’s events kept swirling around and around in his head. Starting with Louisa Marchese’s disappearance without a trace and ending with stumbling across Naomi Palmer running out of the woods waving her arms at him.
He’d wondered again if the two incidents were related. Louisa’s mother claimed her teenage daughter had run off to meet with her boyfriend, leaving a note behind, whereas Naomi had been driving in her car before being run off the road and kidnapped. Two very different scenarios.
Still, they were also both young women involved in something that smelled abhorrently of sex trafficking. Granted, Naomi was older than Louisa by over ten years, but she’d looked young enough to be high school age.
Besides, Sawyer didn’t believe in coincidences.
He must have fallen asleep because a creaking noise had him bolting upright in bed. A glance at the clock on his dresser indicated it was four in the morning.
It took a moment for him to remember he had a houseguest. Moving quietly, he pulled on his jeans and discarded shirt, then grabbed his gun. He crept barefoot from his room.
The door to Naomi’s guest room was open, but he didn’t see any lights. He continued down the hall, listening intently.
Knowing his house, he was able to avoid the creaking floorboard. The one Naomi had stepped on.
Was it that she was having trouble sleeping? He couldn’t blame her, yet her moving around in the dark bothered him. It felt as if she was trying to be sneaky.
Was she going to steal from him? Had she made up the whole kidnapping story?
At the end of the short hallway, he stood, giving his eyes additional time to adjust. He frowned when he didn’t see any sign of her.
For a moment he thought she might have decided to take off in his squad, then he remembered he had the keys.
Had she really left on foot?
He crossed the open-living kitchen space to the front window. There were no streetlights out here, and the leafy tree branches along with the always-present mist hovering in the air obliterated most of the light from the moon. Still, there was just enough ambient light for him to see the dark silhouette of a woman, standing several feet from the squad, her arms wrapped around he
r body as if she were chilled to the bone.
Sawyer let out his breath in a silent whoosh of relief.
She hadn’t stolen from him or left on her own.
He stood for a moment, unwilling to scare her by going outside yet unable to leave her alone.
Calling himself all kinds of crazy, he opened the front door and softly called, “Naomi? Are you okay?”
Even though he’d kept his voice hushed, she startled just as badly as she had earlier in the kitchen. He stepped outside, wishing he’d put his shoes on.
“I can take you into town, if you’d rather be around other people,” he offered. “Just give me a few minutes to finish getting dressed.”
“No, it’s fine.” Naomi walked toward him. “I’m sorry I woke you.”
“Having trouble sleeping?” He stepped back, silently encouraging her to come back inside.
She crossed the threshold and shrugged. “Had a nightmare and couldn’t fall back asleep.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” He knew all about having nightmares; his escape from the fire in the Preacher’s cabin haunted him even all these years later.
Mostly because of the role he’d played in the Preacher’s death.
“You didn’t cause the nightmare.” Her voice was testy, as if she was low on patience.
“Still, I’m sure being in a strange place with a cop you don’t know isn’t helping.” He hesitated, then added, “I’ve had my share of nightmares, so I understand what you’re going through.”
She glanced at him in surprise, then nodded. “I thought I heard a car outside.”
“Really?” He glanced through the window at his long and winding driveway. “My place isn’t visible from the road.”
“I know.” She shrugged. “Most of the time, fear is irrational.”
“And sometimes it’s your brain’s way of warning you of a dangerous situation,” he countered. “In my line of work, I depend a lot on my gut instinct.”
