Authors: Shirlee McCoy
Tags: #Love Inspired Suspense
In a flash the notoriety had vanished, as had his chance of winning a gold medal.
A sigh crawled up his throat, but he swallowed it back. It'd been a lesson in futility, he'd decided. And stupidity.
“Amber, I'm sorry.” That was all he could say.
Her chin trembled, but she tempered it quickly and breathed deeply, seeming to pull strength from the air. “It's just part of the past.” She nodded, a gritty resolve in her eyes. Something she'd accepted and moved on.
All the same, something in that emerald gaze contradicted that opinion. In his heart he knew she'd meant to protect him, but she had hurt both of them and shaken her faith in the process.
* * *
An hour later and Amber's shocking revelation still haunted Patrick's thoughts. He was beyond frustrated, his thinking disjointed, his mind numb and swirling, blaming, stinging.
Amber had gone through unspeakable trauma. As a cop and an elite military soldier, he didn't need an imagination to know how ruthless some people could be. What he had a hard time getting his mind around was that she'd chosen to suffer through it herself.
Anger built in his chest, for himself and anyone else that kept what happened from himâeven Amber.
Pent-up emotions and dozens more spiked through him with savage force. Gritting his teeth, he swung his SUV out of Kim's driveway. Amber was safe at her friend's house for the night. Cell phone in reach, security system on, doors locked tight.
He was wired. What he hadn't understood eleven years ago, he was still trying to understand now. Why had Amber just walked away? He wanted to stay mad, disappointed, but how could he? She gave up on their dreams of a life together...to protect him.
Protect me!
Patrick slammed his hand against the steering wheel. Every muscle tensed, every fiber hummed. He wouldn't have faulted her for attending the party. He'd made plenty of foolish mistakes himself.
His own sense of failure cut him to the quick. If only she'd trusted him enough, maybe she would have come to him.
He wanted to believe he would have kept a level head. Supported her. Let the police do their job. Not do something as impulsive as break down doors in search of her attacker.
But...
He knew better than that.
Tightening his fingers on the steering wheel, he shook his head.
Now that he worked as a law enforcement officer, he loathed people who interfered with his investigations. Knowing the way he was back then, he would have made a few enemies, for sure.
Patrick gritted his teeth, then released the breath he'd been holding.
Thankfully those days were behind him.
Although, too little too late.
Patrick slowed at the blinking lights of an intersection before proceeding through.
When Amber walked out of his life, she'd taken part of his heart with her. For years he couldn't get her out of his head, couldn't stop wondering how she was doing. Stubbornness had kept him from picking up the phone, especially when his dreams of becoming a champion runner had begun to unravel.
One more reason to wallow in misery.
Nope, he hadn't handled disappointment well, so how could he fault Amber for handling the pain in her life the way she had? He'd nearly given up himself when his dreams had crashed and burned. What had finally got him straight was a kick in the pants from his boot-camp training officer, who taught him to persevere and thrive on adversity. To be a man.
As a result he got stronger. Less impulsive and hopefully wiser.
He firmly rubbed at his right temple, where a definite headache started to form, then stopped short as a thought barreled into his brain. If he'd gained any wisdom over the years, what was he thinking, leaving Amber alone tonight?
A block from his condo, Patrick turned into the first fast-food restaurant he saw open. Almost midnight, but the odds of a good night's sleep were slim to none. He was agitated and still buzzed from adrenaline the evening with Amber had wrought. As long as he was awake he might as well get in a little surveillance. A cup of coffee and burger should hold him until morning.
FIVE
M
ore relaxed in her sweatpants and T-shirt, Amber accepted a cup of brewed tea from Kim and sank onto the soft cushions of her friend's blue tweed sofa. Propping her sore legs on the coffee table, she tried to forget the past few hours.
At least for tonight.
Patrick was already running a check on the guys from high school, and tomorrow they'd meet to further discuss her short list of suspects. After a good night's sleep. Hopefully by then her mind would be ready.
And her emotions.
Dredging up the past would be difficult. Even worse, knowing that one of those suspects was out to kill her made her skin crawl. And as much as she appreciated Patrick's diligence to keep her safe, having him around was going to be uncomfortable for both of them.
Swallowing a sigh, she raised her teacup and gently blew on the steamy vapors.
“I know it's not safe for you to go back home for a while, and I want you to know that you're welcome to stay with me as long as you'd like,” Kim said, walking into the room.
Amber gave her a small smile. “I can't thank you enough.” The last thing she wanted was to pull her friend into her mess. But between Patrick's prodding and Kim's insistence that she stay with her instead of at a local hotel, Amber's choice was made. Since her parents were a world away helping with her brother's ministry in Chile, she was truly thankful for a friend like Kim.
“So, do you have any gut feeling about who this lunatic is?” Kim settled into one of the overstuffed armchairs.
Tension pulled at Amber's shoulders. Though her friend had asked a good question, Amber didn't have the mental energy to go through the story again. “Nothing conclusive.”
“But you have some idea, at least a direction to go in. Right?” A troubled look crept across Kim's face as she narrowed her blue eyes.
Amber nodded. “Yes. We definitely have more of a direction than before. One little blessing amid the chaos, I suppose.” Tell that to the knot in her stomach, she thought.
“Patrick being the detective on the case is another added bonus.” A goofy grin spread across Kim's face, and her gaze turned downright mischievous. “I can't believe you ever let that guy go.”
Now Amber regretted telling Kim she'd once been engaged to Patrick. It'd been a lifetime ago, but now her romance-loving friend would never let her forget it. “Things didn't work out for us, although I'm sure he's a fine detective.” However, the biggest issue with him being on her case was spending more time with him. Patrick could be dangerous. Her heart kicked at the reminder.
“And a hunk of a man.”
Amber took a sip of tea and shrugged. “One that apparently has a cute little blonde in his life.”
Ouch.
Just saying that hurt.
“Maybe not,” Kim quipped. “I didn't see a ring on her finger.”
Amber tucked a stray curl behind her ear and settled back against the cushions. “Hardly a reason to discount a relationship.”
Kim smiled and reached across the coffee table to refill her teacup. “Just for the sake of discussion, let's assume he's not in a relationship.”
Amber curled her hands around her cup, the warmth seeping through. No way would she allow her mind to even entertain that thought. “Well, maybe,” Amber teased, “I could try to fix you up with him.”
Kim roared and protested. “I'm not the one I was aiming to fix him up with.”
Amber needed to end this conversation before her nerves frayed any further. “Kim, I'm pretty exhausted and it's really late.”
Kim nodded and gave her a knowing smile. “I know you've had a rough day. I have the guest room set up for you.”
Setting down her cup, Amber got up from the couch. She was exhausted.
Hours later, after a restless slumber, she looked at the glowing red numbers on the bedside clock. Nearly 3:00 a.m. Thanks to memories mingling with new fears, and caffeine overload, she was no closer to sleep than she'd been when she crawled into bed at midnight.
She pulled a pillow over her head and crimped her eyes shut, willing herself to sleep.
Minutes passed. Nothing.
With a tired groan, she tossed the pillow aside and wrenched back the covers. Wearing the oversize nightshirt she'd borrowed from Kim, she got out of bed and crept down the darkened hallway, her bare feet squeaking against the wood floors. A cold drink was what she needed.
She opened the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water. Taking a swig, she padded to the bay window facing the street, lifted one slat of the blind and gazed out. A pale sliver of moon floated against a star-spangled sky. Peaceful and quiet.
Suddenly, her heart kicked with an overwhelming awareness that nearly stole her breath. An awareness that reminded her that God had created this beauty and more. He could keep her safe.
Closing her eyes, she breathed deep to fill her lungs. For a long moment she pondered that truth, waiting for peace to surround her. But niggling fears and doubt kept that from happening.
On a sigh, she tugged on the pull cord and lifted the blinds this time. The street was quiet, bathed in the soft orange glow of the historic ornamental streetlamps. She leaned in, casting her gaze around, slowly searching the yard and the street, watching for anything suspicious.
Nothing looked out of the ordinary. No lurking figures. No movement at all. However, who knew what lingered beyond the glow of the streetlamps? It was too dark to tell if anyone might be out there.
Stalking. Waiting.
Her nerves fluttered and she turned to glance out the window again. Taking careful assessment of the area, her gaze stalled on the neighbor's house across the street. The wide front porch was lit, with a vehicle parked along the curb. Everything inside her froze.
Patrick's truck.
The SUV resonated of commitment and security. Still, it was not enough to immediately dampen her concerns, the panic of the day still fresh in her mind.
She stood there a moment longer, taking a long pull of water as if to wash away her fears. Cleanse the memories that she could no longer hide.
“Patrick,” she muttered. A wave of gratitude swelled up to replace the melancholy. Regardless of past regrets, he was trying to protect her. She closed her eyes, breathed deep and lifted a prayer of gratefulness. Maybe God was protecting her.
* * *
At the rhythmic
tap, tap, tap
on the window, Patrick woke up instantly, alert and ready as his years as a navy SEAL had trained him. Squinting against the sun blaring through the windshield, he pulled himself up in the driver's seat of his SUV. The last thing he remembered was dawn breaking.
“Good morning, Patrick.”
Turning, he met Amber's eyes through the side window, and a warm rush of pleasure overrode the surprise. She smiled, cutting cute little dimples into her cheeks.
Patrick lowered the window. A brush of cool air mixed with Amber's sweet perfume oozed through the opening. This was the first time since the investigation started that she actually appeared happy to see him. “Well, good morning, Amber.” He returned the smile.
“Sorry to wake you.”
“No problem. I dozed off, I guess.” He pulled himself up straighter in the seat. He never really slept. At least not deeply.
“I brought you some coffee.” She handed him an insulated mug through the open window. The rich aroma tugged at his senses. Caffeineâexactly what he needed.
“Thank you.”
“You're welcome.” Amber's edgy smile and the blush creeping into her face as she went on warmed his heart. “I noticed you didn't stray far last night.”
“Yeah, well, it's just part of the job.”
Her shapely brows drew together, causing her eyes to narrow, and Patrick immediately wished the words back.
Just part of the job...
It
sounded...well, as though he was just doing his job. Way too impersonal.
She gave a small shrug. “Still, I appreciate it.”
In reality, it was more than that. He wanted her safe and wasn't about to trust anyone else with that job. He opened his mouth to clarify, but Amber took over.
“I brought you this.” She pulled a single sheet of paper from her bag and handed it to him. “It's the list of people I remember seeing at the frat party. Most are old high school classmates.”
Patrick stepped out of the SUV and took the list from her, placing his drink on the hood. “We'll start making calls today and get a statement from everybody. Who knows, maybe one of them will recall something that will help us.”
“I hope so.”
Patrick leaned against the door and studied the list, trying to put a face to the names he recognized. Eleven years was a long time, and he had a hard time recalling some of his classmates. He wondered how many would remember attending the fraternity party. Or even Amber Talbot. He didn't pin much hope on any grand discoveries, but it never hurt to try.
Instinct told him to start his investigation with Carl, Bruce and Randall. He made that his number one priority for the day.
It chilled him to think that the man who'd attacked Amber and had drugged her and left her in an alley to die had been running free for the past eleven years. This criminal should have been brought to justice years ago.
Who knows, maybe things would have worked out differently between him and Amber? Maybeâ
Whoa, Wiley... Leave it alone.
Patrick straightened up to his full six-foot-two height, gaining control of his runaway emotions. They had no business in this investigation. He folded the paper and stowed it in his pocket.
Everything happens for a reason, he reminded himself. Looking back, the odds had been against them from the get-go. Youth, immaturity and the fact that they'd attended separate colleges on the opposite sides of the state were hardly conducive to a lasting romance.
The sharp trill of his cell phone cut short his thoughts. He pulled it from his belt holster and held it to his ear. “Wiley here.”
“Good morning, Patrick.” Liza's sultry voice drifted over the phone line. “I hope I didn't wake you.”
“No. I'm awake. What do you know?” Patrick glanced at his watch, wondering what time it was. Seven-twenty. He had napped some.
“Not even a good-morning?” Liza sighed.
“Sorry. Good morning, Liza.” Patrick's gaze drifted back to Amber...to her sparkling green eyes. Eyes that met his and widened. He held up a finger and mouthed,
I'll be done in a minute
. He didn't want to take a chance of her scooting away.
She nodded and he smiled, noticing how nice she looked dressed in stylish jeans, a purple silk blouse and high-heel sandals. Her hair was pulled back in some delicate twist, except for a few unruly curls ruffling in the breeze.
Patrick swallowed, frustrated from even noticing her appearance.
“I did a little investigative search on the three names you sent last night.” Liza's words brought his thoughts back to the job he needed to do.
“What did you come up with?”
“For one, Bruce Austin was a marine.”
“A marine? Interesting.”
“Don't get too excited. He was killed in Iraq five years ago.”
Patrick's heart sank a little. He and Bruce had never seen eye to eye on much. All through school they'd been fierce competitors in sports and academics. But Patrick felt a wash of sadness for anyone who had died for his country and was so young.
“Too bad about Bruce.” There was now one less suspect to contend with. “What about the other two?”
“Carl Shaw is employed by the Chatham County public school system. He works as a gym teacher and a coach for Cavalier High School.”
His and Amber's alma mater. “Gym teacher and coach?” Patrick crossed one ankle over the other. “Well, if Carl's the culprit, I'm sure he wouldn't want a story about drugging and assaulting a woman to come out, not to mention attempted murder. What about Randall Becker?”
“Mr. Becker is the owner and manager of Coastal Karate School.”
Patrick gave a slow whistle. “Think of all those kids on his roster. He has a ton to lose also if rumors start flying.”
As he spoke, Amber stood ramrod straight, arms clasped tightly over her chest. Face blank, she stared at him. He sent her a tentative smile. She didn't respond.
“That's as much as I have so far. I thought you'd find it interesting.”
“I do. Thank you, Liza. I have a few more names I'll be sending over to you today.”
“Or you can drop by with them. I'll be here all day.”
Patrick changed the phone to the other ear, suddenly self-conscious about the direction of the conversation with Amber standing in such close vicinity. Crazy. He had no intention of getting romantically involved with either woman. Still...
He cleared his throat. “I'll email you the list. I have a lot going on today.”
“All right.” Liza sighed. “I'll call if I come up with anything else.”
“I'd appreciate that.”
Patrick clicked off his phone, his eyes still on Amber. A succession of emotions flitted across her face from a touch of chagrin to annoyance.
“You told Liza what happened to me?” Her voice remained soft, but he could hear the hurt in her tone.
Patrick froze, stunned for a moment as he stared at her. Did she expect him to keep the information to himself? “Amber, everything that happened to you at the frat party is pertinent to this case. And everyone on the investigative team is privy to the data collected.”
“Of course. That makes perfect sense.” Amber shrugged, looking close to tears but trying to be nonchalant. “I just hadn't considered who would need to know.”
Patrick took a step toward her. “Don't think for a moment that I take what happened to you lightly. Believe me, I want whoever did this to you found and brought to justice.”
She nodded, her lashes lowering and shielding whatever emotion was in her eyes. “It's all new to me,” she explained. “Talking about a part of my life I tried so hard to forget. Although I understand why it's necessary.”