Jordan entered through the front door, and Liam crept through the backdoor. “Nothing.”
Gesturing with his chin, Jordan said, “You take that way. I’ll check the other side.”
Liam nodded. His heart hammering in his chest, he kicked open the doors to three empty bedrooms and searched the closets and hiding places. He came up empty.
“Out here!” Jordan called. “I’ve got something.”
Jordan had pulled aside a throw rug in the kitchen, the only floor covering in the house, near as Liam could tell, revealing a trapdoor.
As Jordan flipped back the covering, Liam aimed his shotgun at the opening. The other man peered into the void.
“It’s an exit,” he said. “A tunnel.”
The same thought struck them both with equal horror.
“Emma,” Liam whispered hoarsely.
FOURTEEN
Emma huddled behind the shed and rubbed her sore wrists. Bishop paced the narrow hiding place, his shuffling progress agitated. A bird fluttered past, and he drew his gun before laughing nervously.
“This is taking too long,” he said, his body vibrating with tension. “I’m going to go check it out.”
“They said to wait here.”
Bishop shook his head with a quick, jerky movement. “Nah. I ain’t waiting. I gotta see what’s happening.”
Her annoyance flared. She wasn’t a weak woman, but she didn’t appreciate Bishop leaving her in the lurch at every opportunity.
“Do you have an extra gun?” she demanded.
He guffawed. “What do I look like, a shop clerk? No, I don’t have an extra. I got this one.”
Pressing her hands against the side of the shed, she carefully peered around the corner. A thump vibrated beneath her fingertips.
“Did you hear that?” she whispered.
“No. What are you talking about?”
“Shh!” she ordered harshly. “I think there’s someone inside here.”
Bishop’s returning glare was skeptical. Whatever he might have said was lost when the door slammed open.
Emma yelped and stumbled backward. The sheriff appeared before them, blocking their path to the house. His eyes were wild and unfocused. The tidy, controlled man she’d known before was gone, replaced by a snarling, disheveled animal. He swung his gun violently. Aiming first at her, then at Bishop.
“Get out of here, Hopalong!” he screeched. “Go back to your pills or your meth or whatever it is that’s turning you orange. I can’t believe you took a shot at me before. You almost turned into a man today. Almost. Don’t make me kill you just when you’re starting to grow a backbone.”
Bishop paled. His expression turned blank, and the gun sagged by his side.
“That’s right, Bishop, she’s going to die either way,” the sheriff snarled. “You might as well save yourself. Run along. The adults have business.”
The deputy’s shoulders slumped, and he turned.
Emma gaped. “Don’t leave me.”
The sheriff chortled. “Bishop is a coward. Always has been, always will be. Your boy isn’t going to save you, either. He’s going to watch you die, and I’m going to watch him fry for it.”
Her ears buzzed, and she feared the paralyzing anxiety was going to consume her. He still didn’t know about Jordan. He thought Bishop was the second shooter. She clung to that thin shard of hope.
The sheriff leveled his gun at her head. “I switched out the bullets. When they dig the slug out of your brain, they’re going to trace it back to lover boy.”
A red haze descended over her vision. She should have told Liam how she felt about him. She’d made some bad habits over the years—immersing herself in other people’s tragedies had left her jaded and isolated. She’d buried both of her parents and spent her waking hours reliving the losses of others.
Her work had changed her, and she’d pushed her closest friends and family out of her life to concentrate on the dead. If only she’d recognized that every moment in the company of someone she loved was precious and worth fighting for. Love was worth suffering for.
Her dream came rushing back. The man in the ballroom holding a gun. The man she’d trusted. The man who’d betrayed her. That man was standing before her. A part of her mind had known he was guilty all along, and she’d been trying to warn herself.
She offered up a silent prayer of forgiveness for both of them. Cringing, she waited for him to pull the trigger.
The next instant there was an explosion. The sheriff jerked and fell forward, landing facedown before her.
Bishop stood behind him, a gun in his outstretched hand. “Guess he was wrong about me.”
The sheriff was motionless, his neck cranked to the side, his eyes unseeing. The deputy had shot Garner in the back before he’d had a chance to pull the trigger and kill her.
Emma’s knees gave out and she dropped to the ground.
The next few hours passed in a blur. She wanted to speak with Liam, to share her feelings, but they never had a moment alone. There were sirens and helicopters and police swarming the ranch. Throughout the entire ordeal, he never let go of her hand.
Bishop had shot Garner in the back. Texas law allowed the shooting since the witnesses on scene agreed with Bishop’s reasonable belief that deadly force was necessary to prevent the sheriff from trying to kill Emma. The deputy had other problems that he’d have to take one day at a time. Emma sensed he was ready to face his addiction. He’d turned a corner.
The sunset was glorious, all things considered, a melting ball of orange slipping beneath the horizon. The sight reminded her that life was going on around them. She wasn’t giving up what she did for a living, but she was going to make other changes in her life. She was going to dedicate as much time to the living as she did to the dead.
Liam cupped her cheek and brushed the hair from her forehead. “We should be able to go home soon.”
“Can we go to Blanche’s? Her house feels like home to me.”
“Absolutely.” He massaged her temple with his thumb. “How are you holding up?”
“Splendid,” she said, inhaling deeply. “I’m alive and every day is a gift.”
For the first time in a long time, she felt something glorious.
She felt at peace.
* * *
Liam woke early to the aroma of brewing coffee drifting through the house. He passed the dining room and discovered Emma watching over Duchess. She sat on the floor, a blanket draped around her shoulders. There were four tiny, squirming pups, each no bigger than his fist. Duchess proudly licked their heads as they blindly wriggled against her side.
Jordan had returned to work, but the siblings were planning a trip to Florida to see his dad—the ordeal had brought them closer together.
Liam rested a hand on Emma’s shoulder, and she patted the floor. “Sit with me.”
Folding his legs, he settled beside her.
She flashed a radiant smile, and he felt as though his insides had turned to liquid. “How are you feeling this morning?”
Touching his cheek, she said, “You can stop asking me that. I’m fine.”
“I know. I guess maybe I’m asking to make myself feel better.”
“Then I take back what I just said. Ask as often as you like if it helps.”
Emotion clogged his throat and his nose pricked. “I have to tell you something. Something I should have told you a long time ago. I have to leave on Monday.”
She turned to him, her eyes wide with surprise. “You’re leaving?”
“I should have told you before, but I couldn’t. My name isn’t Liam McCourt.”
Emma sucked in a breath. “I don’t understand.”
“My name is Liam McCallister. When the US Marshals put someone in hiding, they let you keep your first name and the first initial of your last n
ame. Makes the adjustment easier, and if you’re writing a check, gives you a chance to correct yourself.” He barked out a humorless laugh. “Not that anyone writes checks anymore.”
“Is this connected to your shooting?”
“Yeah.” He ran his palms down his face. “But I didn’t tell you the whole story. I grew up mostly in foster care. I was bounced around from home to home in a not so great part of town. I joined the Dallas PD and eventually worked my way into the gang unit. My superiors put me undercover because people knew me, but not well. I was safe. Except there was a girl. Her name was Jenny. We’d gone to school together as kids, but she didn’t remember much about me. Her boyfriend was a member of the Serpent Brotherhood gang. One day he backhanded her. I came to her defense. It was instinct. I thought I played it off, but the guy was suspicious. He started asking around. Didn’t take him long to realize that while I might have grown up in the neighborhood, I hadn’t been active in any of the local gangs. That was enough to start unraveling my cover. Just like that he was holding a gun on me, yelling. Asking me if I was a cop. The next thing I knew, he pulled the trigger. He said it was a mistake. That mistake went through my shoulder and hit Jenny in the neck. Caught an artery. She bled out in minutes.”
A gentle hand guided his chin toward her. “I’m so sorry. That must have been awful.”
“Jenny’s boyfriend went nuts. The scene was a mess. Swerve thought he’d killed us both. Dallas PD was running the undercover operation with the Feds, and they didn’t want anyone to know the gang had been infiltrated. They didn’t say a cop was involved. Instead, they said a civilian was killed and gave me a new name before sticking me here. It’s not much of a hiding place, but no one was looking for me in the first place. They all thought I was dead.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s my story. She’d be alive if it wasn’t for me. If I hadn’t made a mistake.”
He’d thought he was ready to face the unknown. He wasn’t so certain anymore.
“I hate to break it to you,” Emma said, a sweet, forgiving smile pulling up the corners of her mouth “But you’re not the first person who ever made a mistake. You didn’t kill Jenny, and you’re not responsible for her death. A thousand choices led to that moment. The choice to defend Jenny was only one of them, and not even the most important one. She had the chance to change her life, just like you did, but she didn’t.”
“I know that now, I think, but her death will always be a part of me.”
“That’s okay, too. The dead will always be part of us. We simply have to remember to give as much attention to the living.”
Getting that off his chest was like releasing a deadweight. For a moment, he felt as though he might float to the ceiling if Emma hadn’t been there to anchor him.
“What happens on Monday?” she asked.
“The Dallas district attorney is wrapping up the case. I have a deposition. Then it’s over. I can go back to work. I can be Liam McCallister again.”
“Is that what you want?”
“Well, here’s the thing.” Choked with emotion, he couldn’t speak for a moment. “You like the person I am now, and I like that guy too. Except he’s not the whole picture. But I thought, well, I thought that if you could love me at my best, then maybe you could love me at my worst, too.”
She shocked him by covering his mouth with hers in an ardent kiss, stopping only when Duchess barked her displeasure.
Emma grasped his cheeks and pressed their foreheads together. “You sweet, lovable, adorable, crazy man. Of course I’m falling in love with you. You made it impossible for me to do anything else.”
“You’re not mad that I lied to you?”
“How can I be? You told me you were lying to me from the beginning. You couldn’t even lie about lying.”
“You don’t mind the name McCallister?”
“It’s growing on me. We can name one of the puppies McCourt. For sentimental reasons.” She tweaked his nose. “If you want to move back to Dallas, I can work anywhere. And I want to sell my house anyway. I don’t think I can ever live there again. I’m not cut out for a fixer-upper.”
“Here’s the thing—I’m not certain what my future holds.”
She scooted to the side and rested her head on his bent knee, staring up at him with her brilliant topaz eyes. “I think we could both use a nice, long vacation to sort out the future.”
“I know this great little bed-and-breakfast.” He ran his fingers over the silken strands of her hair. “They allow pets. McCourt will have a place to stay, too.”
“Mmm. Sounds nice.”
“I’d like to stick around and finish falling in love with you.”
“I’d like that too,” she said.
“You should know that I’m kind of old-fashioned. I want a house and a couple of kids and a dog and a standing date at the dock at twilight when the fish are biting.”
“Let’s start with the fishing and work our way backward.”
“Deal.”
“You know, for the first time in my life, I finally feel at home.”
His eyes misted. “Me too,” he said. “Me too.”
EPILOGUE
Emma adjusted the hanging sign that had previously advertised Blanche’s Bed & Breakfast, then stepped back to survey her work. Months had passed since Sheriff Garner’s shocking death, and a lot had changed in that time. Liam’s testimony had been pivotal in the trial against Swerve, and the Serpent Brotherhood had splintered apart.
The porch door swung open and Liam appeared along with Duchess and McCourt, the puppy they’d adopted from the litter. Her heart fluttered. She could hardly believe they’d been married for nearly two months already. They’d initially agreed to date each other for a year to see if they suited. Their wedding ceremony had taken place only weeks later in Blanche’s garden while the asters and the snapdragons were still in bloom. Blanche had already decided to sell, and though the house was far too big for only Liam and Emma, they’d bought it anyway. They had plans to fill up the extra rooms with children instead of guests.
Liam glanced at Emma’s sign and groaned. “Do we have to put that in our yard?”
“Absolutely,” she declared proudly.
She never tired of looking at him—of being near him. From the day they’d decided to marry, everything had fallen into place. They argued occasionally, both of them adjusting to a life that included two people rather than one, but they never stayed mad for long. He was still hesitant—she sometimes caught him looking at her as though he feared she’d vanish into thin air—but he was gradually learning to trust in their love for each other.
He was gradually learning to trust in their future.
“Seems only fair we have something on display.” Emma shrugged. “You are running for the office.”
He’d been serving as interim sheriff and the time had come for the official election.
“Yeah,” he said. “But I’m running unopposed. Hanging a sign in the yard seems like overkill.”
Bishop had taken early retirement and moved to Arizona. The change of pace suited him, and he’d been sober since the shooting. Liam had hired a deputy to replace him, but the department was still short-staffed. Though occasionally jealous of the amount of time he spent on the job, Emma had taken the opportunity to work on a book detailing her discovery of the Lonestar State Killer’s identity.
Liam was finally poised to hire a second deputy, which meant they’d have more time to spend together. A good thing considering what she’d discovered this morning.
“I almost forgot,” he said. “Blanche sent a picture.”
He scrolled through his phone and flashed the screen in her direction.
Squinting, Emma stepped forward. “Is she parasailing?”
“Yep. She loves Florida. She’s going on a boat ride to spot dolphins this afternoon.”
Though h
e’d never admit as much, Liam had worried that once Blanche relocated, they’d lose touch. Nothing could have been further from the truth. The distance had made the three of them appreciate each other all the more.
“And here I thought she was going to miss the old place,” Emma said.
Liam wrapped his arm around her waist, and together they gazed at the freshly painted Victorian house. “I think she was ready for another family to move into the house. And she’ll be back this summer for the town’s 150-year celebration.”
“Jordan might visit, as well. He said he had some news. Can’t wait to hear what it is. Summer will be an excellent time to visit,” Emma said with a mischievous smile. “We might have—”
A friendly honk from a passing vehicle interrupted her words.
Chad, one of the volunteer firemen, leaned out the window of his truck and waved. “Say Liam, can I still count on you to help out with the pancake feed after church?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” her husband replied.
Liam had not only embraced the town, he’d sewn himself into the very fabric of Redbird. They’d both worried about the reaction to the truth of his identity, but most everyone had embraced their interim sheriff and rallied around him. When the national news had swarmed the town with lurid headlines about a serial killer, Liam had provided a calm, articulate voice for the community. His efforts had earned him the respect of the locals.
Chad offered another friendly wave before turning onto Main Street.
“Don’t be late,” he shouted across the distance.
“See ya’ there,’ Liam returned.
Emma threaded her fingers through his. “I’m glad you finally joined the breakfast club at the church.”
“I’m not.” Liam rubbed his stomach with a grin. “Those pancakes are parking on my waistline.”
“Speaking of waistlines—”
“Emma!” a voice called. “So glad I caught you this morning.
Mrs. Lineham strode purposefully down the sidewalk, her elbows pumping in rhythm to her steps.
Killer Amnesia: Faith In The Face 0f Crime Page 19
