Love Inspired Suspense June 2014 Bundle 1 of 2: Undercover Marriage\Collateral Damage\Forgotten Past (38 page)

A tiny sob escaped from deep inside her. “I do trust you.”

“Then let me help you. Tell me what's happening.”

“I can't. I'm sorry, but I can't. JT, you almost died this morning because I asked for your help. I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you. I can't let anyone else die for me.”

The compassion in his intense blue eyes amazed her. “Did someone you love die because of the person who was shooting outside?”

“Yes,” she whispered at last.

“I know this is hard...trust me, I understand what it's like to lose someone close to you in a violent way. I was married once. My wife was murdered.”

She'd wondered about his past. He had an aura of sadness surrounding him. She'd noticed it when he brought Ollie back the night before. Yet nothing prepared her for hearing his wife had been killed. “Oh, JT, I'm so sorry. That must have been...horrible.”

He lowered his head. She couldn't see his eyes but his voice flattened when he answered. “It was the hardest thing I've ever had to live through and it's not something I like to discuss. In fact, you're the first person I've shared this with beyond my family and closest friends. For the longest time after Emily's death, I wasn't so sure I was going to make it through. I hated the world and blamed everyone, including myself, for her death.” His words grew thick with emotion. “But I
did
make it through...with the help of my family and friends.”

When he looked at her, she didn't make a sound, but gazed deep into his eyes, encouraging him to continue.

“You see, I realized I couldn't do it on my own. I needed help. It is possible to get your life back, Faith. Maybe even to be happy again, but you can't do it alone. It's one of the most valuable lessons I learned. At some time or other, we all need help. Let me help. Let Will.”

Ollie let out a pitiful whimper and she realized she was squeezing him tight. She released the dog and he went over to investigate something close by.

She knew what JT said was true, but still, giving up the one thing that had kept her alive these past two years wasn't going to be easy.

She silently recited one of her favorite verses from the Bible.

Let not your heart be troubled. You believe in God, believe also in Me...

Those simple words gave her a sense of calm. Nothing was too great or powerful for God. Not even this.

The one blessing to come from this nightmare was that she had started attending a small church in the Midwest on one of her previous moves and had found God. She was slowly learning how to accept His guidance for her life, but at times, it wasn't easy to let go. Trust. None of those things came easy to her.

Off in the distance, thunder rumbled low and ominous above the crashing waves. A storm was approaching. The ocean had a way of drawing them to it. In the morning, everything would be clean and fresh and filled with promise.

If only her life could be like that.

She rose, went to the window and opened the drapes. It was just getting light outside. There were several officers combing the yard and the surrounding area. They'd left the truck parked in the middle of her drive—yet another reminder of the danger stalking her. A forensics team was examining every inch of the abandoned vehicle, dusting for prints.

She let the drapes fall back in place. “Do you believe God has a plan for our life?”

Her question clearly surprised him. He came over to where she stood. “Yes, I guess I do, although I confess, sometimes I have a hard time understanding His plan.”

She felt the same way at times, but she truly believed God had a purpose for her as well. There had to be a reason why He'd led her here to Hope Island.

“It will be okay, Faith. I know it doesn't seem so right now but it will.” He hesitated a second, then gathered her close and she let him because it seemed as natural as taking her next breath. In just a short amount of time, he'd become her safe haven and she held on to him.

“Are you ready to talk to my friend?”

She looked up at JT and saw the strength she needed. “Yes.”

“Good. I'll go get him.” He'd taken only a couple of steps toward the door when the overhead light flickered once and came on. The power was restored almost as if it were a sign.

JT turned back to her. Their gazes met and she held her breath. The warmth in his eyes held so many possibilities.

“It may take some time, but we'll find out who's doing this to you and we'll give you back your life again.”

With his help, she believed they would.

THREE

C
hief Will Kelly did his best to put her at ease, but the two police officers standing guard outside the great room only served to emphasize the dangerous nature of her situation.

JT took the seat next to her. Even though he hadn't said a word, having him close made her feel like she wasn't alone anymore.

“Why don't you start with what happened this morning? When did you first become aware something was wrong?” Chief Kelly opened his notebook and fished out a pen from his pocket.

“When I got the call this morning. It woke me up.”

JT's gaze collided with hers. With everything that had happened since then, she'd forgotten to tell him about the phone call.

“He called again?” Something in his expression sent a shiver down her spine. The news of the call clearly surprised him, which meant what? That he didn't think her stalker's behavior was true to form?

“Yes,” she answered at last. “Right before I heard the truck outside.”

Will looked from Faith to JT. “Back up a little bit. What calls are we talking about here?”

“He—whoever's been doing this—has been calling me for over two years now. He never speaks. There's always a song playing in the background.”

The chief was busily taking notes. “What song?”

“‘I'll Be Seeing You.' It's always the same.”

“And he's never spoken?” The disbelief on Will's face made it hard for her to go on.

She squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye. “That's right.” She had seen that same expression on the Austin detectives' faces whenever she'd first told them about the calls.

Faith still couldn't believe everything that had happened since the call woke her and she'd reached out to JT for help.

Will stopped writing. “By the way, the breaker box around the side of the house was flipped off, which explains why the power was off. We're dusting for prints, but I'm not holding out much hope. We ran the truck's plates. It was stolen out of a junkyard in Portland two weeks earlier.”

Two weeks.
Fear coiled into the pit of her stomach like a venomous snake. She couldn't believe it. He'd been stalking her, planning this move all this time, and she'd had absolutely no idea he'd found her again until the call came in yesterday.

Will flipped his notebook closed. “I'm guessing he stashed another vehicle on the main road. That's how he was able to get away so quickly. My men are combing the area for any evidence, but he's obviously good at this. Who knows how long he's been watching you.” He paused and she knew what was coming next. The moment of truth. She'd been expecting it. Dreading it. “But then, I have a feeling you've been here before. Haven't you, Faith?”

She could feel the color drain from her face. She said a quick prayer and a sense of peace came over her. It was as if God was right beside her, telling her it was okay to let go. She didn't have to do this on her own anymore. “Yes, I've been here before. Many times, in fact.”

Will held her gaze. “Who's doing this to you?”

At times, she'd give anything to know the answer to the chief's question, and at others, well, she wasn't so sure she could survive the truth.

Every time she thought about the interview with the Austin police, she shuddered. They'd all but accused her of being part of the Jennings' murders. They'd detained her at the station for hours until she'd finally asked for an attorney and then they'd let her go. She'd been terrified they would arrest her for the crime. Terrified they might be right.

“That's just it. I don't know who's doing this.”

“I think you'd better explain,” Will said.

She nodded slowly. “Two years ago, when I lived in Austin, I was attacked and badly beaten. My throat was slit. I almost died and the worst part of it all is I don't remember a single thing about the incident.”

Will appeared lost. She couldn't blame him. If she hadn't lived through the nightmare, she'd probably think she'd lost her mind.

“Believe me, I know how crazy this sounds, but it's true. I don't remember anything about what happened.”

“You mean you've blocked out the memories of the attack,” JT offered.

She shook her head. “I mean I can't
remember
anything about it or my past. Nothing. Not a single thing.”

When her memory hadn't returned after a few weeks, her doctors were at a loss for answers. They'd told her most victims of violent crimes who suffered temporary amnesia usually regained their memories in a matter of weeks and the amnesia certainly never encompassed other parts of their lives.

“I'm so sorry. I can't imagine what that must be like.” The gentleness in JT's tone brought a lump to her throat. “What did the police say? Did they have any suspects? An old boyfriend? An acquaintance? Someone you were having trouble with around that time?”

At first, the police had seemed genuinely baffled, but it didn't take long before they started hinting at the possibility she was lying about not remembering because she might be mixed up in the murders. For them, it had been the only plausible explanation. And by the time she left Austin for good, they didn't bother hiding the fact they believed she was responsible for her friends' murders. One of the detectives had told her that the only thing keeping her out of jail was the lack of evidence he was sure they'd come up with eventually.

She shook her head. “Since I wasn't able to remember the attack, there were no suspects.”

Will frowned at her answer. “So there's never been anyone charged with the assault?”

“No.” On top of being terrorized by her stalker, she'd lived in constant fear the police might be right. Maybe she'd blocked out the memories because she was the real monster. But if that were true, then why was someone stalking her?

“How soon after the attack did the calls first begin?” Will asked.

“Not long, maybe about a week after I was released from the hospital.” She hated thinking about those awful days following the attack. Her fear consumed her. Every time she looked at her reflection in the mirror she saw the evidence of how close to death she'd come. She was so battered and bruised she could barely walk. She'd been so afraid she couldn't leave the apartment for days after. She didn't know if the person responsible for killing the Jenningses might be waiting for her to leave the apartment so he could finish the job.

She realized Will was analyzing her every reaction. “Tell me exactly how the calls started.”

It had all begun so innocently. “It started with just a few hang-ups. At first I thought maybe someone from my past didn't recognize my voice.” Both men looked confused and she explained. “I'm an accountant so I had people call in from time to time to ask questions. One of my clients told me I didn't sound like myself when he called. The injury damaged my vocal cords. My voice was...off. Huskier, I guess. Anyway, I assumed the calls were harmless until the music started and somehow I just knew it had to be him.”

“When you reported this to the police, what did they say?” JT asked.

It was hard for her to keep from showing her resentment. “They didn't believe me. They pretty much accused me of making the whole thing up. I was terrified. I begged them to do something. They said their hands were tied until they actually caught the person committing an act of violence against me.”

“I don't understand why they wouldn't believe you. You almost died from a brutal attack. The person who hurt you was obviously still at large, so it would be a reasonable assumption to connect the calls to the attack.” Will narrowed his eyes at her. “What aren't you telling us, Faith?”

She shook her head. She couldn't tell them everything—it was just too ugly. “The police never believed my amnesia was real. They thought I might be using it as an excuse to keep from telling them what I knew about the attack.”

“In other words, they thought you knew more than what you were saying,” the chief concluded.

“Yes.”

“And do you?”

The room grew quiet. Tension slithered down her spine. For a little while, she'd actually believed this time might be different, but one look at the skepticism on Will's face shattered her hopes. He thought she was lying. Would JT feel the same? How could she ever convince them she wasn't guilty when even she had doubts.

Faith got to her feet and headed for the door. “This was a mistake. I shouldn't have gotten you involved in this. I'm sorry I wasted your time.”

She made it to the hallway when JT caught up with her and reached for her arm, preventing her from leaving. “Don't do that.”

She closed her eyes for a second then turned to face him. “Do what?” she asked wearily.

“Give up on us. Me. Please don't lose hope, Faith.”

The sincerity in JT's eyes reached past the wall of self-preservation she wore around her like armor.

“He doesn't believe me, JT, and I can't blame him. Don't you think I know how crazy all this sounds?”

He tugged her closer, she went into his arms, and he held her close. As she burrowed her head against his shoulder, it scared her how right this all felt. It was as if nothing bad in the world could ever reach her when she was in his protective embrace.

“Will's just doing his job. If he didn't ask a few hard questions, I wouldn't want him working the case. I trust him, Faith. You can, too.”

She believed him. “Okay,” she said at last.

“Good.” JT took her hand and they went back to the great room where the chief waited for them.

“I know this is hard. I'm just trying to understand the details of the case. I'm not judging you,” Will offered with a faint smile. “So, let's start again. Did you know more about the case than what you told the police?” he repeated.

“No.” That was certainly true enough. She had told the police everything she knew about what happened and they hadn't believed her.

“So when they offered no help you did what you had to do to survive. You ran. I take it you've been running ever since.”

She glanced down at her clasped hands. “Yes. I didn't know what else to do. I changed my name from Davenport to McKenzie, yet every time I thought I was safe, he found me again.” She was so exhausted. She wasn't sure she had it in her to run anymore.

“How many times have you been forced to move?”

She'd almost lost track of the times she'd packed up and taken off for parts unknown. “Counting Hope Island, there have been seven.”

Will didn't try to hide his surprise as he chose his next words carefully. “So you're telling me that you uproot your entire life because of these crank calls? Seems a bit extreme. Something else must have happened. What's the real reason why you've relocated all those times?”

Instinctively, she reached for JT's hand and held on to it. He turned to her. The warmth in his eyes seeped into the cold places inside where her fear lived, melting away her doubts. She was safe with him. She hadn't felt safe in a long time.

JT squeezed her hand. “You're doing great. Take your time.”

She took a deep breath before telling them the details of that horrific time. “It started right after the third call in Austin. He broke into my apartment and left a picture of my friend Rachel and me on my dining room table. In Billings, I came home from work and found a candlelit dinner waiting for me. In Newport, Oregon, he left a bloody knife on my doorstep. Then in Kansas, he snuck into my apartment and watched me sleep one night.”

Faith shuddered at the memory, but the look of encouragement on JT's face compelled her to continue. “When I woke up and saw him there, I was terrified. He wore a mask and the room was dark so I couldn't see his face, but I knew it was him. He didn't say a word. As soon as I acknowledged his presence, he left. I think he just wanted me to know he could get to me anytime he wanted.”

“Hold on,” Will interrupted. “You said it was dark and he wore a mask, but do you remember if he was tall or short? Was he stocky or slim?”

Faith thought about it for a second. “I'd say medium height, not quite six foot, and he had a slim build.”

“It's something. Go on.”

She shook her head. “The roses from yesterday are just the beginning. The method varies, but it's all part of the same twisted game.” Yet something
was
different this time. She'd turned to someone for help. Now she'd reached out to the police. And unlike all those other times, her stalker now seemed determined to finish what he'd started two years earlier.

“What roses?” Will asked.

She realized he had no idea what she was talking about. “He left a dozen roses on my porch last night.”

Will digested this new piece of information. “Where are they now? I'll need to see them.”

“They're in the trash can behind the house. I couldn't bear to look at them,” she added in response to JT's surprised expression.

He nodded. “I wish I'd known. About the flowers. About everything. I wouldn't have left you alone.”

Her breath caught in her throat at the compassion she saw in him. Just for a second, as they stared into each other's eyes, it felt as if it could have been just the two of them. Nerves, awareness and something she couldn't begin to name flitted into the pit of her stomach.

Close by, Will cleared his throat.

JT untangled his gaze from hers and looked at his friend. “The flowers were from Stedman's downtown. There was a card attached as well.”

“What'd it say?” Will asked her.

Those chilling words had kept her awake long into the night. Her voice shook as she repeated them.
“You belong to me and I want what's mine. I'll be seeing you soon.”
She shivered when she thought of how he'd been right outside her front door. It was as if he enjoyed finding new ways to torment her.