So, it wasn’t a dream.
No, it’s a waking nightmare.
As soon as I finish talking to the sheriff again, to see if he found anything, I’m going to cancel the rest of my reservation and get the heck out of Dodge. I have no intention of repeating past mistakes and can find another paradise to paint. Moving on would be the best for everyone involved. The decision makes my stomach settle and I dress quickly, wanting to get it all over with so I can move on.
My cell rings before I can leave the room. Uncle Bradley again.
Knowing if I ignore his call, it will only cause him to be more relentless, I answer. “Hello?”
“Peyton,” he responds, and by the grave tone in his voice, I can tell that whatever reason he’s calling for can’t be a good one.
“Uncle Bradley? Is everything okay?”
His sigh fills my ears. “Unfortunately, no, sweetheart. I have some bad news, and I think the best way to handle it is to just tell you right out.”
I sit on the edge of the bed. “What is it?”
“The money in your trust…it’s gone.”
The tension goes out of my body and my insides turn to liquid. “Gone? How could it be gone?”
My brain blanks and I have to ask him to repeat his answer. Even then, I only catch a few words: lawyer, stole, embezzle, police. I don’t know how I manage to have a coherent conversation with him because the buzzing in my head is so loud, I can hardly think.
“Uncle Bradley?” I interrupt when I can’t listen any longer. “I have to go. No, I’m sorry,” I say before he can convince me to keep talking. “I’ll call you later and we’ll talk more about it.”
I feel bad for hanging up on him mid-sentence, but any more and I would have screamed. No more money in the trust. The trust that had paid for my therapy, the mortgage and upkeep on my parents’ house. The trust I’d been depending on for my little wild adventure. Gone.
Defeated, I decide to skip doing my makeup. Who cares what I look like? I certainly don’t. I want to get this over with.
The downstairs is full of people with their faces pressed against the glass window, watching the spectacle on the other side. The low murmur of their voices echoes up to the second floor. My stomach turns as I descend the stairs and I pass a hand over my hair out of habit, wondering if they’re already gossiping about me. Certainly they couldn’t have found out about my past so quickly.
My presence goes relatively unnoticed until I step into the front desk’s line of sight, where Nell spots me and comes out proffering a steaming mug of coffee. “I made it the way you like,” she says with a motherly smile that goes straight to my tender heart.
I accept the mug and try to look around for Ford without being obvious. “Thank you, that’s very sweet. Um, do you know where I can find the sheriff?”
She goes back behind the counter and adjusts her glasses with a mournful sound. “He should be back any minute. Why don’t you wait in Ford’s office for them?”
The thought of being surrounded by his things, in his space, makes me take a step backward. I want to keep as much distance between us as possible. Call it paranoia, call it self-preservation. It doesn’t matter. Ford is an enigma I have no interest in solving.
“That’s okay,” I tell Nell, “I think I’ll wait out here. Do they have any updates?” I can’t help but ask.
Nell leans over the counter, propping her chin on her hand. “Ford asked Hadley to keep things quiet, for the time being.” Her Southern accent clips the end of the word being into been.
“I’m sure he did,” I mutter, thinking of the conversation I had with his niece. Who had he been accused of killing and how had he gotten away with it? Nell and the others seem to like him, but there are charismatic people who hide their evil alter egos all the time. I know that all too well.
Except Ford is as opposite from charismatic as it’s possible to be. You’d think if he were guilty he’d try a little more to clear suspicion, rather than attract it by being so confrontational. I recall the argument with the woman a few days ago. No, Ford certainly doesn’t have a problem with getting on someone’s bad side.
“What’s that, dear?” Nell asks.
“Nothing,” I reply, then nod to one of the empty tables on the deck. “I think I’ll take one of those muffins from the bar and wait outside.”
She’s interrupted by the ringing of the landline and gives me a smile and a wave.
“I heard a kid drowned last night…”
“They found her body washed up on shore…”
“That scary owner guy killed a man because he was sleeping with his woman…”
If the situation weren’t so dire, the misinformed whispers from the crowd might have made me chuckle. At least no one knew I was involved…yet. And they won’t, so long as I have it my way.
The blueberry muffin I snag from the breakfast bar smells amazing, and even though my stomach revolts at the thought of food, I force down a few large bites along with several gulps of coffee. My hands ache for a pencil and pad of paper to sketch the scene in front of me. One of the things I learned in therapy was to draw to keep my mind from racing. Maybe it leeched a bit of the natural joy I got from art for a time, but it helped to distract me.
I could use the distraction now.
I sense Ford before I see him. The muscles in my neck and shoulders clench and the hairs on my arm prickle. My hands clench on the nearly empty coffee cup. I’m self-aware enough to realize my reaction to him can’t merely be fear. If that were the case, I’d still be in my room. I wouldn’t be out here, watching, waiting for him…and that’s what truly scares me. Not that he’s big and rough, and his direct gaze makes my insides shiver. Not his past, whatever it is.
What scares me the most…is not being scared of him at all.
Chapter Ten
Ford
Lack of sleep and a headache from straining to see through the murky water put me in a foul mood. Not that I’m normally in a perky one.
“How much longer do you think you’ll keep at it?” I ask Hadley, as we disembark from his boat and trek back up to the lodge.
Hadley looks about as good as I feel. He rubs at the dark smudges beneath his eyes. Guess I wasn’t the only one who got little to no rest the night before. “Couple more hours, but we could only spare a few guys and they’re volunteering. Can’t waste anymore manpower if we’re coming up with squat.”
“Sooner the better. All this nonsense is gonna start scaring off business.” I’d already had a cancelation from a current customer, who didn’t want to come back next month for their spring break vacation.
Hadley pauses and narrows his eyes at me. “Nonsense, huh? I thought you believed her.”
I shrug, my gaze lifting from the trail to find Peyton. It doesn’t take long. That woman always seems to be right in the middle of chaos. How she manages to derail everything in such a short amount of time, I’ll never know.
“It’s not that I don’t believe her. Shit, Paul. Just want this over with.”
He sighs and we continue on. “You and me both.”
Not to mention the longer this drags out, the more I’ll have to worry about Mercy, who took my request to leave about as well as I anticipated. Stubbornness must be a family trait.
In a compromise, I threw money at the both of them to go shopping or whatever a couple towns over, with strict instructions to keep themselves busy until Hadley and the other cops cleared out. Both in case they did find a body, or on the off chance reporters showed up.
So far, I’ve been lucky on both counts.
Hadley pauses at the top of the steps, nodding to the older couple who owns the town bakery and often stay at the lodge for a little getaway. The wife, Mrs. Margaret, is also the biggest mouth this side of the Mississippi, so if I have any doubts about word getting around they are squashed. Peyton gets to her feet as Hadley reaches her side. Her face is carefully blank and clean of makeup, leaving her looking even more innocent and vulnerable t
han usual.
I keep a couple steps behind Hadley and prop myself on an elbow. Technically, he shouldn’t need me involved, but I can’t seem to make myself go back inside. I don’t want to give a damn, but I also don’t want to leave her alone. Not when it looks like a stiff wind could knock her over.
Peyton gives me a look over Hadley’s shoulder, like she’s wondering what I’m doing here, and I glower back at her.
Nell, who must have been watching the security cameras from the front desk, comes out with a tray of steaming hot coffee and several mugs. She tops off Peyton’s, then hands Hadley and me the remaining mugs.
“Here you are, Sheriff,” she says.
“Thank you, Nell, I appreciate it.”
“You have a message for you when you’re finished here, Boss,” Nell tells me with a pointed look.
“Appreciate it. I’ll be back in a few,” I tell her. “Leave it on my desk.”
“Ya’ll need anything else while I’m here?”
“No, thank you,” Hadley and Peyton chime in.
“We’re good,” I say.
With one last curious glance backward, Nell goes back inside. I push the curiosity of a message to the back of my mind.
“Good morning, Ms. Rhodes,” Hadley says.
“Sheriff,” she says shakily. If possible, her face has lost even more color, leaving only a slash of pink at her cheeks from the cold. Damn woman is gonna faint again if she doesn’t take better care of herself. Knowing she’d only bite my head off, I take a deep swallow of coffee and am pleased when she does the same.
I frown and look away.
No reason why I should be staring at her unless I want another rude awakening.
“We’ve searched the whole area,” Hadley begins. “Are you absolutely sure about what you saw? Where?”
Peyton crosses her arms above her chest and her lips pinch together for a second. “Yes, just as I told you. Do you want me to r-ride out with you to prove it?” Despite the tremor in her voice, she shakes back her hair defiantly. At least she’s a brave little bird, shaky, but brave. I’d bet anything, going out on that water is the last thing she wants to do.
I don’t have to check Hadley to know he’s probably thinking the same thing. He may be a local, small-town cop, but he’s not stupid.
“No, ma’am, we’ve got it covered. We’re gonna wrap it up shortly, though, if we don’t find anything. No use worrying everyone if there’s nothing else to go on.” Hadley pauses and lays a comforting hand on her arm. “Is there someone we can call for you? Husband, boyfriend. Your family? You seem pretty shaken up. There’s a counselor in town, but—”
“Thanks,” she interrupts, “but no. I’ll be fine. I appreciate you letting me know. I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused.”
Hadley adjusts his hat. “It’s no trouble. We’ve got your contact information if we do find anything.”
She nods. “Yes, please give me a call if you do.”
Hadley turns to me. “We’ll be out of your hair soon, Ford. Sherry and I will be by sometime this week for date night—if she doesn’t kill me before then.”
“We’ll have a table for you,” I reply, my eyes still on Peyton, who’s turned to look out toward the water where the other volunteers have started to pack up.
“Thank you for your help, Ms. Rhodes,” Hadley says, excusing himself to go and help. “We’ll be in touch if we need anything.”
Peyton visibly deflates as Hadley disappears into the distance.
“No evidence is a good thing,” I say, but she shakes her head and says, “I’d rather know for sure. Otherwise it’s a huge question mark in my head. It’ll drive me crazy.”
She places her mug carefully on the deck railing and turns to face me directly for the first time. Before she can apologize, again, I lift a hand and wave away her empty words. I’ve heard it all before. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got work to do.”
“Ford, I’m serious,” she starts.
“So am I. No need to apologize. You’ll let Nell know if you need anything? Checkout is Friday, right? It’s been a memorable stay, but I’m sure you’ll be excited to put this place in your rearview.”
She makes a pained face. “You believe me, don’t you?” she asks after a pause. “I’m not sure Hadley does, at least not completely.”
“He wouldn’t have spent all morning out there if he didn’t. It doesn’t matter what I think.”
“Yes—” she starts to shout, then glances around as heads turn in our direction. “Yes, it does. It matters to me. He would be more convinced if they’d found something, anything, but he only has my word to go on. The word of a stranger.”
“Hadley is a good guy. He’s just doing his job. Besides, I was there. I believe you.”
Her eyes grow wet and an uncomfortable knot takes up residence in my chest. I shift from foot to foot. “Are you okay?” I ask.
She clears her throat and shakes her head. “I’m fine. But you don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”
“Do I seem like the kind of person who caters to anyone’s feelings?”
Peyton gives me a small smile. “Definitely not.”
“Listen, it’s been a rough couple days. Why don’t you help yourself to the bar, on me, and relax. As for what happened last night, let’s just forget about it, okay? No hard feelings.”
“Are you sure? I didn’t mean to make it weird.” She sighs. “I’ve been through a lot and this is pushing all of my buttons. It’s honestly a miracle I haven’t lost my shit by now. I mean, like an epic breakdown. I don’t know if it’s better that they haven’t found anything or worse. I think it’s the not knowing that bothers me more.” Her panicked voice is sharp and getting louder the more she goes on. She gestures wildly.
This time, I do step forward. I place my hands on her arms. “Hey, everything will be fine. You’re going to go get lunch, get a drink, and let me handle Hadley. I’ve got you.”
At my words, Peyton stills, her eyes watchful. “What did you say?”
My lips twitch. “I said everything will be fine.” I push her back in the direction of the French doors. “Now go. Take care of yourself before you pass out again and I have to carry you.” Or before I do something stupid and kiss her until we both forget what’s happening.
A laugh bursts from her lips and dances briefly in her eyes, then she turns and reaches out a hand for the doorknob. “Why don’t you join me?” she blurts out.
“Join you?”
“Dinner, later. My treat. To thank you for everything. And to apologize for the way I acted last night after everything you’ve done for me. For saving me. Believing me. I owe you.”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
She rolls her eyes. “Do you want food or not?”
God, but I don’t want to tell her no. I knew the second I saw her standing at the desk, with all that hair and her perky smile, I wanted nothing to do with her. She was trouble. The worst kind of trouble.
“Make it drinks,” I tell her, “and we have a deal.”
The last of the volunteers are gone after check-out at one and I can finally have some peace and quiet. Or I would if the gaggle of women at my back could stop their henpecking.
“So I did some digging,” Mercy began the second I was finished with the last customer.
I spin around in the stool and raise a brow. “Did you? About what?”
Mercy scoffs and Nell takes a step out of my office where she’d been copying papers. “About the girl.” She wiggles her brows. “The one you’ve been staring at like she’s a steak and you’re a starving dog.”
Mercy’s bawdy laugh fills the space. “He is a dog!”
“Why are you here again?” I ask her. “Don’t you have someone else you can bother?”
“Lexie is out with some friends she met in town and Frank is at the shop with his car.”
“Frank the Mustang guy?”
“Hell, no, I ditched his ass. I met Frank at the bar.
”
A sterling character reference. “Get to the point, Mercy, I’ve got things to do.”
“So, anyway, I did some digging on this Peyton girl.”
That gets my attention. “You what?”
Mercy plops in the seat next to me and spins to lean toward Nell. “I mean, who wouldn’t, right? This girl shows up and shit starts to go down. That can’t be a coincidence.”
“You had no business doing that,” I say to her.
“Please. It was absolutely my business. Especially when you go around making eyes at her.”
“C’mon, Mercy, we’re not fourteen years old anymore. I’m not making eyes at anyone.”
“Pfft! Oh, please. You may have disappeared over the past five years, but I’ve been your sister for your whole life. I was there when you made eyes at Marjorie Lennox. I was there when you made eyes at Julie Smith. I know you. And you may be some badass Marine, but I’m still your big sister, and it’s still my job to protect you however I can.”
“You don’t need to protect me.”
“Someone has to. Anyway.” Mercy turns to Nell and gestures with a hand. “You wouldn’t believe what I found out about our little Peyton.”
“I’m not listening to this,” I announce and turn back to the computer in front of me.
“You don’t have a choice,” Mercy says.
“For God’s sake,” Nell mutter-screams. “What did you find out?”
I give a brief thought to leaving. If Peyton wanted everyone to know her history, she’d tell it herself. Like me, if I were interested in playing armchair psychologist, I’d talk about what happened to me.
That sure as hell doesn’t stop me from listening to what Mercy has to say next.
“Well, I did some searching and she’s still using her legal name, so she must not be trying to hide it. Anyway, some tweakers broke into her parents’ house and robbed the place. They took the family hostage and then killed her parents.”
“That’s awful,” Nell says.
Mercy leans forward, her eyebrows raised. “That’s not the end. Peyton was in the house when all this went down. The tweakers tied her up in the basement. Held her parents for hours while she listened to them torture them. When they were done, hours later, they shot her and left her for dead.”
Traitor (Last to Leave Book 1) Page 7
