Love Inspired Suspense June 2014 Bundle 1 of 2: Undercover Marriage\Collateral Damage\Forgotten Past (21 page)

“The ex-cop, yes.” Sarah smiled to herself. She could tell Emma was taken with Nick's friend. What impressed Sarah was that Megan Bradley had married him. She wondered, however, how Alec Thompson had taken that. Megan and Alec dated for a couple of years in high school. Of course, who knew about life in Jolly Mill after Sarah and her family moved away?

“Gerard had a talk with both of the brothers, and they said he always struggled with depression. They never blamed anything but that, and Gerard believes them.”

“So Nick and Gerard are pursuing other leads?” Sarah asked.

“It's kind of hard to dig up dirt on a well-loved pastor.” Never able to remain still for long, Emma sprang from the sofa and wandered through the room. “I drove through that town on my way here. Can you believe it's tinier than Jolly Mill?”

Sometimes her quick subject changes were dizzying, but Sarah kept up. Barely. “Verona? Why did you drive that route?”

“I wanted to drive past the plant that processed Agent Orange during the Vietnam War. That's, like, a gazillion years ago. That's what the dioxin leak was, you know.”

“Emma, you went alone. At night.”

“When you think about it, it's all kind of awful, huh?” Emma asked. “A tiny place in the middle of a peaceful farming community being used to make poison.”

“Which part of this whole thing isn't awful?”

“Meeting Nick and Edward.” Emma grinned, though it was a smile tinged by sorrow.

An unexpected chill breathed across Sarah's neck. Except for his temporary misadventures in English class—in which she tutored him—Nick was always brilliant, astute when it came to people. His initial hunch might have fizzled, and Sarah might just be allowing herself to be drawn into the drama, but she had always trusted his judgment.

Emma touched her arm. “Sis?”

Sarah allowed the warmth of that delicate hand to seep into her skin. “Yes.”

“What's going on in your head? You look freaked.”

“We need to go back to Sikeston. Today.”

Emma jerked her hand away. “I didn't come all the way over here just to turn around and go back. I want to help—”

“How? It's sounding more and more as if someone intentionally killed our loved ones—there's probably someone in Jolly Mill we can't trust.”

“Don't you want to see Edward again?”

“Of course I do.” Part of her, however, felt desperate enough to want to take Emma right now and skip town before things could get out of hand completely, or before Emma impulsively stuck her nose where it didn't belong.

“We need to spend some time with him, Sarah, not just say hi and bye. He was one of Dad's best friends. Nick said Gerard is keeping watch from his place above town, where he has a clear view of all movement here in the valley, and besides, if we don't go see Carmen while we're this close she'll never forgive us. You want that on your conscience?”

What Sarah wanted was for her daughter to be safe. Yes, she wanted justice, but what were a rebellious teenager and a kindergarten teacher—who had, admittedly, been well taught by her policeman cousin to shoot a target—going to do to help catch killers? Another thing she didn't want was an emotional revelation that could have unbearable consequences—couldn't it?

“Well?” Emma demanded. “Do you?”

“We can see Carmen on our way out of town.”

Emma crossed her arms again, her full lower lip jutting out in the tiny pout she often used to try to get her way—though she seldom succeeded, except with Sarah. “I'm staying.”

This was not going well.

* * *

Nick scrubbed at his hair with the towel until both were equally damp and wondered if the friction of his movements might have scorched the terry cloth. He had blades to sharpen, lawns to mow and clients to placate, but right now all he wanted to do was pull on his clothes, go downstairs and wait for Sarah—she might even be here already. Was that the door chime he'd heard a few minutes ago while the shower was pounding his head, or was he imagining that? She'd sounded pretty wiped out last night, so she might have slept in this morning.

He flicked the towel over the bar, trying to breathe through the steamy air and thinking about last night's events. Emma was a good kid, as much as he could tell from a couple of hours of talk before they all retired. Immature, but what sixteen-year-old wasn't? She was a worker, that much he knew. He'd put her to work helping him load the pickup and trailer with his lawn-care equipment before Dad got home last night, and she'd volunteered to help him mow and trim today. Of course, he'd turned her down.

He was reaching for his T-shirt when a voice trailed from the other end of the hallway. He jerked, bumped his elbow on the towel rack and gritted back a growl.

The voice was Sarah's. He couldn't keep a smile from his face. She was here.

Then Emma's voice fell plaintively on his ears, not quite clear enough to make out the words. The voices grew softer but more intense, which meant they were probably arguing and didn't want anyone to hear. Which made him want to hear.

He took two seconds to comb his still-damp hair and cracked open the door. Time to calm the waters.

“...don't listen to me. You never listen! I told you, Nick said I could stay. We can both stay. Edward said so, too.”

“And you thought you could accept the invitation for both of us without consulting me?”

“Come on, Sarah, they're family friends, practically family.”

“You've been communicating with him online. Do you know how dangerous that could have been? What if it hadn't been Nick?”

“But it was.”

“You didn't know that for sure. What would stop someone from contacting you online and posing as Nick to lure you down here? How did you know you weren't walking into a deadly trap?”

“But Nick said he wanted to talk to me...to us.”

“He had no idea you were coming here. What you did was beyond dangerous.”

The silence that followed her statement was telling. Nick waited for some exclamation of outrage from Emma, maybe a good, out-and-out catfight, but that wasn't Sarah's way except when it came to her twin, and judging by Emma's behavior last night, she might be impulsive but not aggressive.

“That car parked outside isn't yours,” Sarah said at last. “The title reverted to me upon Mom's death, and I'm the one who calls the shots in our household now, whether we like it or not. That car goes back to Sikeston today, and you're driving it.”

More silence.

Nick could almost close his eyes and picture the twins, Shelby and Sarah Russell, arguing in the school hallway, or on their front porch or just about anywhere. Typically it was Shelby who instigated the fight in an effort to force Sarah to do something she didn't want to do, such as join the cheerleading squad or go on a youth camping trip or sign up for summer sports. Sarah knew how to dig in and not be moved.

“I can't believe you would force me back home before I even have a chance to meet folks Mom and Dad used to know. How could you?”

It was time for Nick to make an appearance and stop eavesdropping. As the two continued to argue, he stepped down the hallway barefoot. He saw them before they knew he was there, saw Sarah's shiny, dark brown hair feathered around her face, those gray-green eyes that he used to look for in the school hallways. His friend. And when he wasn't being an idiot about her twin sister for those brief couple of weeks, he'd occasionally admitted to himself, even that long ago, that Sarah was the one with a special quality that put him at peace.

His breathing stopped for a second or two. Sarah's looks had changed dramatically, of course. Gone was the Goth look she'd worn to distinguish herself from her more popular sister. He still remembered the light of intelligence that had set off Sarah's gaze from Shelby's. Same coloring, different person looking out on the world, and that made all the difference.

“Sweetie, I'm not trying to be mean,” Sarah said.

“If we go home we might never come back. I want to meet these people and get to know them.” Emma marched across the living room to the sliding glass door that overlooked the backyard. Her warm brown eyes, that dark hair, the way she moved... Her appearance filled him with such curiosity. No one in the Russell family had brown eyes...did they?

“Now that we're here, Nick says we should be safe,” Emma said. “Why can't we stay?”

“You're not calling the shots. I am.” Sarah's voice held the barest thread of steel, tempered by gentleness.

Emma stood with her back to the room, arms crossed as she stared in the direction of the trees past the backyard.

“Do you know what people think when they see a girl your age drive up alone to a household of men?”

Emma turned around, rolling her eyes. “Oh, come on, Sarah.” She held out her arms and looked down. “I could pass for twelve, and Edward's a pastor. He and Nick know everybody in town. Who's going to think something gross?”

“The smaller a town is, the more people notice.”

Nick realized he was becoming an eavesdropper. “Trust me,” he said at last, “most folks in this town know us better.”

Sarah jumped to her feet and swung toward him, eyes wide. And then her full lips curved up in a smile of recognition. He remembered vividly the familiar light that had so often glowed from her when they were both young and full of life and ideas and dreams about the future.

* * *

Sarah's breath played and danced up and down her windpipe as she stared at Nicolas Tyler in his fully grown, fully masculine body, with shoulders appearing almost as wide as the swing set that they once played on in the Tyler backyard. His skin was already tanned, brown hair darkened by moisture from the shower. His dark brown eyes were still striated with flecks of sunshine gold. Emma's eyes. He entered the room in well-worn jeans and a navy T-shirt.

The impact after all these years took her breath completely.

His mouth curved up in a smile, setting off that characteristic cleft in his chin—the cleft his daughter had inherited. “Is this really Sarah Russell, who never stepped outside without her black everything?” Voice twice as deep as when they were teenagers, much nicer, even, than his phone voice. He sounded almost bemused.

Sarah chuckled. “Goth does not live on forever.”

“I bet you were glad that spiderweb tattoo on your collarbone was temporary. And you finally dropped the face goo.”

Sarah didn't blush easily, but she'd suddenly become Emma's age. “Hi, Nick.”
Stop it, Sarah. It's no longer high school, and you're a grown woman.
“Thank you so much for calling me last night.”

He glanced at Emma. Was he studying her features a little too carefully?

Emma looked away. “Sorry, sis, really. I should've called you. Nick and Edward both drilled me on it. Didn't mean to scare you.”

“Why did you turn off your cell?”

Emma grimaced. “I forgot my charger. My phone went dead halfway here last night.”

Something eased in Sarah's stomach. So Emma hadn't shut her out intentionally. Right? “It's a good thing I didn't know that last night when you were on the road alone. We'll have to hunt for it when we get home.”

“But not today, right?” Emma gave Sarah her most plaintive look. “I know all about Dad's side of the family, but Mom had family here in Jolly Mill. I wanted to find out more about her, okay? Talk to people who knew her. You got to live here. I didn't. It's not fair.”

“Fair? You grew up in Sikeston. Larger town, more relatives, and they all knew Mom, too. We'll visit Carmen before we leave.”

“I miss Mom and Dad.” As more tears slid down Emma's face, Sarah sneaked at glance toward Nick's compassionate, sorrow-filled expression, and she knew all their lives had just taken a huge turn. He had questions; she could see them in his eyes. How was she going to answer them?

She was still lost in Nick's gaze when the sound of a softly closing door reached her. She glanced around the room. Emma was gone. Seconds later came the sound of the Beetle as it revved and buzzed away from the house. Emma was going to get her way, and nothing would ever be the same.

FOUR

N
ick caught the flash of terror on Sarah's face when she realized Emma had slipped out. “That is one strong-willed kid.”

Sarah reached for her purse. “Always has been. Got to stop her.”

Nick placed a hand on her arm and felt that connection all the way to the pit of his stomach. Amazing how a simple touch could stir up so many memories...so much elation, so much loss.

“It's okay, Sarah. I'm sure she's just going to see Carmen. She and Dad talked about it last night, and he gave her directions to the clinic where Carmen works.”

Sarah's muscles retained their tension.

“And you'd better believe Carmen's not going to let you out of town without a nice, long visit, anyway,” he said. “The clinic's only a few blocks away. Emma's perfectly safe. She isn't six—she's sixteen.”

“And what if the killer already knows who she is? Who I am? You know how quickly news spreads around here. If your friend Gerard is watching over the town with a telescope, why can't someone else?” Sarah took a tremulous breath and let him take her purse.

“Possible, but not probable. He has the highest vantage point.” He could feel her quaver. “New at this mothering stuff, huh?”

Some of the tension eased from her face. “I'm not unfamiliar with the situation. That child is in her element with all this drama.”

“She's a lot like Shelby sometimes, isn't she?”

Sarah's eyes widened and Nick wished he could read her mind. Once upon a time, he thought he could.

“This isn't the time for her to go traipsing off into unfamiliar territory,” Sarah said.

“Dad showed her a map of Jolly Mill online last night.” Nick placed her purse beside the overstuffed chair and gestured to her. “Sit for a minute. We can call the clinic and make sure Carmen's working the Saturday shift. She's usually there until noon. Emma wanted to see her first thing this morning.” As he spoke, he picked up the phone on the end table and dialed. He could tell by the expression on Sarah's face that she wasn't inclined to sit still for long, but she sank onto the front edge of the cushion, shoulders straight, hands clasped on her lap, her delicate chin jutting out just a little. The expression in her gray-green eyes showed she was still braced for conflict. Like Nick, Sarah was at the end of her resources and was ready to jump at the slightest imagined threat. He could understand that so well.

“Edward? That you?” came Carmen's perky voice over the phone.

“Wrong Tyler,” Nick said.

“Oopsie. Sorry, Nick. Everything okay? Nobody's sick, are they?”

“No. I actually called to talk to you. I don't suppose you've got company there now, have you? A red VW Beetle pulling up in the parking lot?”

There was a rustle of paper, a quick gasp and Carmen said, “Boy howdy, what d'you know? You clairvoyant or something?”

“It's your cousin Emma.”

“Why, someone's getting out of the car now. Long, dark brown hair, a little skinny, but oh, how adorable. That's her, all right! Yee haw, but I'd've recognized that child anywhere, 'cept she almost looks like she's got some Tyler blood in her.”

Hmm. “You don't say.”

“When did she get to town?” There was the sound of quickened footsteps, as if Carmen might be running to the door to greet Emma.

“She arrived late last night. Sarah's here with me now.” No need to go into detail yet. “With all that's happened, we can't take chances with Emma. Sarah didn't want her out on the streets by herself.”

“You'll tell Sarah I want to see her, won't you?”

“She already knows.”

“I feel awful for missing the funeral. I'd never have thought to see the day when Carmen Delaney would neglect family, but what with all the goings-on here—”

“Sarah understands how hard it was for all of us then. We'll be seeing you later, but once you get your visiting over with, would you send that child straight back here?” He'd found himself slipping back into old, casual, southern Missouri speech patterns since returning from Illinois.

“I'll be sure and tell her. Gotta go now, Nick. I see more folks pulling in. We've got a pretty full morning.”

He said goodbye and disconnected. “Problem solved.”

“For now.” Sarah sounded resigned and still fearful. It was out of character for the Sarah Russell Nick had once known.

He sank onto the sofa armrest closest to her. “Coffee's brewed. Want some?”

She took a deep breath, as if enjoying the fragrance that wafted through the air. “Love some. Got cream?”

He smiled. “No sugar. Just like your dad used to drink his.”

Her smile faltered only slightly, and then her attention shifted toward the hallway entrance. “Edward.” She breathed the name, and her voice held a wealth of pain, love and something else.... Was it regret?

The man stood looking at her with tears in his eyes, then held out his arms. She jumped from her chair and rushed into them. Nick looked on as the two of them held on to one another, Dad in his fishing jeans and old, torn plaid shirt, his graying hair ruffled over his forehead. Sarah's profile showed such agony that Nick quietly turned and walked into the kitchen. Sarah needed a moment with Edward.

How could he have forgotten how close they were? Mom and Dad had loved both the twins, but Nick always suspected they held a special place in their hearts for Sarah, who soared above her sister in intelligence but floundered miserably trying to fit into any social mold.

His parents had always wanted him to have a baby sister. He'd overheard them talking about it one night when he was about seven. The doctor had broken the news to Mom that day that Nick was going to be an only child. Until then, he'd never thought about it much, but when his mother cried because she couldn't have another baby, he'd begun to pray that the doctors were wrong.

Though his prayers weren't answered, he imagined that the Russells had been deposited down the street just so they could share their very different twin girls with their best friends.

Nick took a tray from the cabinet above the coffeemaker and filled three mugs with coffee and cream. He added sugar for Dad, then slowly carried the tray back into the living room, where Dad and Sarah sat on the love seat, side by side, Dad with his arm around Sarah's shoulders. He gazed down at her as if soaking up her special presence.

“I didn't realize how much I needed to see you,” Sarah told him softly. “You were like a second dad.” Tears streamed down a face that Nick had seldom seen moist in all the years he'd known her.

“Still am, sweetheart,” Dad said. “Let's make sure that doesn't change. I loved your folks as if they were siblings. So did your aunt Peg.”

Sarah's face scrunched and she pressed her face into Dad's shirt. “And it all happened so quickly, all at once, and there was no time, and I couldn't be here for you, and—”

“And I couldn't be there for you.” Dad's eyes were moist again, and then his face was wet, and he held Sarah in a tight embrace that spoke of his deep loss.

To the sound of Sarah's quiet sobs, Nick placed the tray on the coffee table and sank onto the chair across from them, giving them time and silence to seek solace in one another as he shared their pain. Not for the first time, he felt a secret rush of gratitude that Emma's headstrong deliberation had brought the Russell girls across the state, despite the danger that could have posed. When it was time for them to return home, he would go along to make sure they stayed safe.

If his guess was correct, Dad would go, too. He only hoped that wouldn't be for a few days. Nick had already called Gerard this morning, had alerted several old hunting buddies—those who knew how to handle a weapon responsibly—and though Jolly Mill didn't have police coverage, they definitely had watchmen guarding them from nearly every block in town, and several around the outer edges. The sheriff's office in Neosho wasn't convinced that there was a serial killer in Jolly Mill, but the residents were.

Even more protective than the actual weapons was the fact that word was spreading about the community circling the wagons and watching out for one another. If a killer was still in town, that person must be lying low.

Nick pulled tissues from a decorative box on the side table. He silently thanked God for the solidarity of friends and vowed to apologize for his reticence since arriving here. He'd been devastated, bitter, lost when he came home from Illinois to find his father so broken. Old friends had called, but he hadn't returned their calls. They had surrounded him and Dad at Mom's funeral, sent cards and flowers—but mostly they brought food to fill the freezer to keep two bachelors from starving. Emma's arrival last night, and Sarah's this morning, had changed things for him.

He squished a tissue in his hand as he thought about his actions the past three weeks, then looked up to find Dad and Sarah watching him. He gave them each a tissue and then handed Dad his coffee.

“Sugar?” Dad mopped his face.

Nick nodded, cleared his throat, gave Sarah a mug of her own.

She thanked him and took a hearty sip, then placed the mug down and dabbed at her eyes and nose. “I didn't mean to cause all this.” Her voice wobbled as it had last night on the phone.

“You didn't mean to bring comfort to two people starving for it?” Nick asked.

She acknowledged his statement with a nod and accepted another tissue. It, too, became soaked. With a sigh, she took another swallow of coffee, then closed her eyes and leaned back. “This is delicious. Real cream.”

“From a church member up the creek a ways,” Dad said. “He keeps us in milk and cream from his dairy. Where'd Emma get off to?”

Sarah gave Nick a look. “Last I heard, she was at the clinic.”

“Oh, good. Carmen will keep an eye on her.”

“I'm sure Carmen has a busy schedule today,” Sarah said. “I should probably take a stroll down there and make sure Emma doesn't make a pest of herself or take off for some other part of town.”

Dad laid a hand on Sarah's arm. “Take a break from your mothering duties for a little while. Please tell me you and Emma will stay in Jolly Mill for a few days. Your aunt Peg loved you so much. Having you here would bring me a lot of comfort. I think, despite our fears, you might find some comfort here, as well.”

Nick saw the hesitation in her eyes. She glanced toward the vestibule, her gaze seeming to rest on the large family portrait that hung above a sofa table. She blinked, swallowed and took a deep breath.

Sarah managed to set her mug down without spilling a drop of coffee. It wasn't easy. She met Nick's gaze, and though she saw lingering sadness there, she also saw an impish mischief. She might be able to put her foot down with him, and even with Emma, but she could never tell Edward no.

Besides, being held in Edward's arms had reattached the emotional umbilical cord she'd once had to this home.

The Tylers had kept an open-door policy for the kids from church. Though Shelby spent time here with the rest of her friends, Sarah had her own special time alone with Edward and Aunt Peg, and often Nick, when Shelby was away at games. Mom and Dad almost always attended those games. That was when Sarah felt as if she blossomed under the loving, individual attention of the Tylers.

“Tell me you at least packed a suitcase,” Nick said, placing his empty mug on the tray.

“I did. I can't tell you for sure what's in it. I wasn't thinking clearly when—”

“I'll bring it in.”

She met his gaze, silently begging him not to push her further. “I do want to stay for a while,” she admitted. “But maybe I should make arrangements with Carmen. I don't want the rumor mill to hurt your—”

“I'm not worried about the rumor mill,” Edward said gently.

“Neither am I,” Nick said, still watching her closely. “But judging by the way Carmen talked this morning, Dad, I'm afraid she might pack up and move in, too, if Sarah and Emma decide to stay here.”

Edward gave a soft chuckle. “You could be right, and having Carmen move in might raise a few eyebrows, especially with those who know we dated in high school.” He patted Sarah's hand. “You do realize how badly we felt when no one was able to make it to Sikeston. Carmen was beside herself.”

Sarah nodded. “The Russell clan packed the funeral home, so don't worry, we had support.” In fact, she'd been overwhelmed by the crush of people when all she'd wanted to do was hide away.

“Now that Emma's met Carmen,” Nick said, “I'm sure she'll be eager to stay with her.”

“Have you heard anything more this morning about Chaz?” Edward asked his son.

“I talked to his mother earlier. I think she's convinced her son was simply frightened and left. He did pack some clothing, and he'd warned her not to talk about the explosions to anyone.”

“But he didn't say why?” Sarah asked.

“He's young,” Edward said. “Too inexperienced for the responsibility laid on him. This town's filled with good folk, but every place has a troublemaker or two, and our kind of tragedy could have sparked an ornery streak in someone.”

“I would have thought that, too, Dad.” Nick's voice was gentle. “If it wasn't for the same thing happening in two places.” It sounded as if they'd debated this subject a few times already, and Edward still hovered between belief in Nick's suspicions and hope that the explosions were simply catastrophic coincidences.

Sarah picked up her mug and swallowed the final drops of coffee. “I think I should go rescue Carmen from Emma so she can get her work done.” She reached for her purse. “I'll see if Carmen's up for some overnight company.”

Nick stood with her. “No need for you to go alone. Dad? Want to join us?”

Edward held out his arms, his holey old shirt evidence that he had other plans. “Fishing. Supposed to meet Chapman down at the bridge in a few minutes, and I've already stood him up twice. That guy thinks fishing can heal anything.” He leaned over Sarah and kissed the top of her head. “I'll be seeing you later, right?”