Midnight Secrets (30 page)

“And you really believe Henson and Dayton will keep their noses clean from now on?”

“If they don’t, they know I’ll be on them like white on rice.” Zach leaned forward and caught her gaze. “I’m not a fool, Savannah. I realize that letting them go isn’t without risks. But I also believe in redemption.”

She held his gaze for a long moment. He knew she heard the double meaning, as he had intended. Did she believe in redemption too? He sure as hell hoped so.

“So, what are we going to do with all these peas?”

Breath eased from him as he relaxed back against the swing. Maybe she didn’t understand completely, but she wasn’t going to challenge him. “I have the makings for a fine Southern dinner in the car. If you want, I’ll cook and you can keep me company.”

“You want to make dinner here?”

“Yes, if that’s okay.”

She stood and, holding the bowl of peas in her hand, said, “Then what are we waiting for? I’ll start the water for the peas and you go get the rest of your stuff.”

Zach stood, too. What he wanted to do was drop everything he had in his hands and fill his hands with her. He wouldn’t. He needed to go very slow. Every instinct he had to rush her had to be set aside. This was too important to hurry. He was fighting for his future with the woman he had never stopped loving. Nothing was more important.

Savannah took another sip of her iced tea and watched as Zach finished loading the dishwasher. She had to admit, she could get used to this, sharing cooking responsibilities with a good-looking man and then watching him clean up the kitchen. Silly, but one of her fantasies about Zach used to include this scenario. Most people might laugh at something so mundane, but she’d always been different when it came to the things she wanted. At least until she’d stopped dreaming and fantasizing about anything at all.

She shook off those thoughts. She had learned the hard way that dwelling on them led to even bigger problems. Zach was here now. What the future held, she didn’t know, and refused to even speculate.

They had kept the conversation light during dinner, talking about the mundane or world events. Nothing personal was discussed, for which she was grateful. Though there was a huge part of her that wanted to tell him about the letters and her grandfather’s suspicions, she forced herself to stay quiet. Maybe after she talked with Harlan Mosby tomorrow, she would know where to focus her investigation next. Having the current police chief’s support would be essential, since she would want to see police and autopsy reports. After her visit with Mosby, she would tell him.

For now, she focused on the fact that a man who had fascinated her from the moment she saw him was standing in her kitchen. And her fascination hadn’t lessened. Last night had proven that. She didn’t know what she felt for Zach anymore, but the desire was definitely still there.

He pulled out a chair and sat at the table across from her. “How’s the packing going?”

The opening was there if she would take it. Telling him about what she’d found in her grandfather’s letters was the perfect opportunity to discuss the investigation she had launched.

“I’m still working on Granddad’s library. I didn’t feel much like packing today, so I spent a lot of time in the guesthouse.”

Slumping down lower in his chair, Zach crossed his muscular arms over his broad chest in a relaxed pose. Savannah was instantly diverted. Memories rushed over her of last night and how he’d carried her upstairs after they’d made love on the stairway. So strong, so very hard. She swallowed.

“Lots of old stuff stored there?”

She jerked back to the present. “What?”

“The guesthouse. Did you find a lot of stuff there you’re going to have to get rid of?”

“Not really. Most of that stuff is stored in the attic. There are some antiques and memorabilia that we might donate.” She took a breath. “I did find boxes of letters that my grandfather wrote to my grandmother.”

His mouth curved into that sweet smile she remembered so well. “Did you read them?”

“Some. There are hundreds, maybe thousands. He wrote her from the time he met her until he died.”

“He must have loved her very much.” He stood and, holding out his hand, gave her that same sweet smile. “Let’s go sit on the screen porch and listen to the crickets.”

Unable to resist him or the lure of a quiet, peaceful night, Savannah took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. Tomorrow, after her talk with Mosby, she would go to his office and tell him. It was better to do that anyway—much more businesslike and professional. Tonight, she just wanted to be with Zach, the man.

Out on the porch, Savannah headed to the chairs but Zach pulled her to the swing at the end of the porch. As children, she and her sisters would often all three get on the swing and glide. She remembered more than once that they’d gone too high and one or all of them had been knocked off onto the porch. When she was seven years old, she had fallen off and would have been fine if Bri hadn’t fallen on top of her and broken Savannah’s arm.

Still holding her hand, Zach began a slow, steady glide. As if they’d been doing this for years, Savannah put her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. The only sounds were the crickets and frogs, the squeak of the old swing, and the distant bark of a dog.

“Tell me about Savannah. Please.”

He had asked her the same question this morning and she had blown him off. Sharing the past ten years with him meant opening up in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to open up to anyone. After he’d left, she had closed herself off. With the exception of her sisters, no one knew the real Savannah anymore. Zach had at one time, but he had given that up. Could she allow him back in?

Before she could answer, he sighed and said, “Here I am, asking you to share, and I haven’t done much myself, have I?”

Relieved at the reprieve, she answered, “Not a lot.”

“Then ask me something … anything.”

The temptation to ask about other relationships was there but she held off. Not only because she dreaded learning about other women in his life but also because he would expect the same from her. How on earth was she going to explain that in ten years, her relationship history was as barren and dry as the Arizona desert?

Family was a relatively safe topic, at least safer than asking about other relationships, so Savannah started there. “You said that after you left here, you didn’t see your mother for a while. How are things between you now?”

“Better, but still strained. Finding out who my real father was didn’t exactly enhance it. I’ve always felt more like her big brother than her son.”

“Is she happy with your stepfather?”

“As happy as I think it’s possible for her to be. Leonard still dotes on her and Mom eats that up. As long as he treats her as if she’s the most important person on the planet, she seems satisfied.”

The one time she had met Francine Adams had been enough for a lifetime. Knowing what he had put up with growing up made Savannah admire Zach even more.

“Did you ever resent having to be the grown-up in the family?”

“Of course I did but I had no other choice. Keeping the family together was priority one for me. I did what I had to do to make that happen. When you have no choices, life can be damn simple—survival and nothing else.”

“Are you still close with Josh?”

“Yeah. Maybe even more since we’ve grown up. He calls me once a week, if he can. Other times, we email each other.”

“And the army? You said you liked it.”

“After I got used to it, yeah, I liked it. I got the discipline and structure I was looking for and needed. I finally felt as if I was doing something worthwhile.”

“Why did you leave?”

He was silent for several seconds and then said, “I was finishing up my second tour in Afghanistan. Got some shrapnel in one of my legs. When I got out of the hospital, I realized the zest I’d had before was gone. When it came time to sign up again, I just didn’t.”

She swallowed and asked the one question she didn’t want to ask but had to. “And relationships? Girlfriends … wives?”

When he shifted, she lifted her head to face him. “I won’t lie to you, Savannah. I’ve had a couple of relationships, but nothing that lasted long and never anything serious. Nothing like I had with you.”

She knew she should be happy about that, but for some reason she felt only sadness for them both. If things has worked out the way they had planned, they would have been married for several years, probably would have had at least a couple of kids by now.
Don’t go there.

When he lowered his head and softly kissed her lips, Savannah savored the sensation but couldn’t respond. As if he understood, he lifted his mouth from hers and whispered, “It’s getting late. I’d better go. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Savannah watched him walk away. She wanted to ask him to stay but she felt too vulnerable. Tomorrow she would be stronger, less apt to give way to temptation. She needed to get her head on straight. Last night had been different—they’d satisfied a desire, scratched an itch. But tonight … if tonight had shown her anything, it had revealed that Zach was wanting more than just sex. And Savannah honestly didn’t know if she had it in her anymore.

She looked out into the backyard and the wilderness beyond. Coming home had become so much more complicated than she had planned. Not only was the man who’d crushed her heart wanting to start up again, she might well have uncovered the truth of a terrible crime. What she learned from Mosby tomorrow could change the course of so many lives forever.

Mobile, Alabama

County General Hospital

The beeps and clicks of the machines beside him were distant and faint. It was a sound he’d heard on numerous television shows over the years and one he’d heard when his daddy lay dying.

Harlan Mosby breathed out a shaky, shallow breath. They said it wouldn’t be much longer … a few days at the most. He tried to be okay with it. Dying wasn’t too bad. Pain was as distant as the sound of the machines, hovering but never really penetrating his consciousness. What he felt most was a disappointment in what he’d had. Never had much and was leaving with even less. Had a wife once but she left him after a couple of years and a few too many drunken binges. Be nice if he had a kid or two by his side, but since he’d never cottoned to kids, he hadn’t had any. His only relatives were a couple of distant cousins who didn’t give a hoot in hell if he lived a hundred years or died yesterday. Which seemed fair since that was pretty much the way he felt about them, too.

Preacher had come by this morning and wanted to know if he wanted forgiveness for anything. As if he’d tell a damn preacher. What he had inside him he’d take to his grave. That’s what he had promised, and if nothing else, Harlan Mosby was a man of his word. A small niggle of regret did hound him, though. He had pledged to do the best job he could as Midnight’s chief of police and thought he’d done a pretty good job. Kept the riffraff to a minimum, protected law-abiding citizens, and when a citizen misbehaved, he’d seen them punished—some of them by his own hand. Folks might have looked down on him if they knew some of the things he’d done, but there was no regret in that.
Sometimes you gotta get covered in a little manure if you’re gonna watch things grow.

A small smile twitched at his mouth at the thought. That skinny runt Zach Tanner had learned that lesson all too well. Damned if he hadn’t enjoyed that night about as much as he’d ever enjoyed anything. Watching that no-account kid get the shit beat out of him and then get covered in cow shit was still funny after all these years.

The fact that Tanner was now the police chief of Midnight stuck in his craw like a dry chicken bone. If he’d had any money, he would’ve paid to have someone take care of Zach Tanner once and for all. Trash like that running his town? Maybe it was good he was dying.

No, he had few regrets except maybe when it came to the Wildes. Hell, they’d been a good family … a little too highfalutin for his taste, but they’d never done him any harm. The whole thing had bothered him. Yeah, he’d been paid well, but that money hadn’t lasted all that long. He hadn’t dared ask for more, though, ‘cause he didn’t trust that he wouldn’t be next. The killing of pretty little Maggie Wilde was about as messy as he’d ever seen. Poor woman hadn’t had a prayer. And then having to string up Beckett Wilde hadn’t been fun, either. Poor bastard had woken right at the last minute and had stared them down, all of them.

Even now, pumped up on morphine to the hilt, he felt a shiver of fear sweep through him as he remembered the burning hatred in the man’s eyes. Harlan hoped to hell he didn’t have to meet him in the afterlife. He sure as shit wouldn’t want to have to tangle with him.

He blew out another shallow breath. Nope, not a whole lot of regrets for sixty-eight years of semi-rough living. Now he was headed to eternal peace, which sounded pretty damn good to him. That is if he didn’t believe what that old preacher man had told him about hellfire and eternal damnation. He sure as shit hoped that wasn’t true.

The sound of a door squeaking open hit his consciousness. Probably one of those horse-faced nurses checking on him. Seemed like if a man was on his deathbed, they’d have the courtesy to send someone halfway decent looking to take care of him. Having one of those old biddies being the last face he saw sure as shit didn’t help a fellow die peacefully.

Harlan blinked as a shadow came into view. The figure was kind of short and a little on the skinny side. Didn’t look like one of the nurses … maybe an orderly or some kind of helper. Doctors had stopped coming a few days ago. Guess they figured there was nothing else to be done.