Authors: Morgan Kelley
When he returned to their room, she was still working on the task he gave her. He loved watching her in their personal space. Their bedroom was rather large, and it held one of the biggest beds he’d ever seen. On it were two suitcases, and a bunch of things.
As he stood in the doorway, he watched her work. Nate couldn’t imagine being blind. It had to be incredibly difficult to spend each day locked in total darkness.
He had to give her credit.
Avalon was trying her best.
As she stood there, she had stacks of clothes. She had to unfold them to feel what they were, and then re-fold them back up. It was time consuming, but he wasn’t going to stop her.
For so many years, she’d been trapped and treated like a damaged child. Nate was trying to give her some independence back. It was a cold cruel world out there, and Avalon needed to assimilate.
Granted, she’d been abused all her childhood by the people who loved her, and she knew all about the callousness that was out there. Nate wanted to protect her, and this was the best way. If something happened to him, she’d have to take care of herself.
“I know you’re there,” she said, not even turning her head toward where he was standing.
“How did you know?”
“I can see your outline in my peripheral. If you want to sneak up on me, you should head in from the back.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Have I ever told you that I love watching you?”
“I think you’ve mentioned it a few times.”
It was true.
He did.
There was something alluring about her as all that red hair cascaded past her shoulders. It reminded him of a sunset, and it was growing on him.
“Am I doing okay with the packing?”
He crossed toward her before staring into the suitcases. “Yes, you are.”
When she turned to get more shirts, he tossed some additional cargo pants into her suitcase. “I’ll help. I can do mine, and you can do yours.”
She smiled. “I love doing things with you. It’s nice to not be treated like I can’t offer something to the team.”
“Oh, I love when you do things
TO
me.”
Avalon’s soft laughter trickled across his flesh. It was music to his ears. He loved when she was happy. After years of pain, in both of their lives, nothing gave him more joy.
“I’m excited,” she admitted. “This is going to be fun.”
Oh, he knew she would be. He was dreading this, but he’d swallow it for Avalon’s happiness. Nate wasn’t going to keep her locked away.
She deserved better.
It was bad enough that they had to hide in plain sight. What he’d love to do is scream to the world that she was his.
Hell!
He’d tattoo it to his forehead.
Without thinking, his fingers went to the place on his shirt right above his own tattoo. The second he touched it, Avalon did the same to the back of her neck.
It astounded him that she was so connected to him that she’d know when he was focused on it.
“It looks like you have everything packed up,” he offered, closing the lid to each suitcase.
She was practically bouncing around the room. “I can’t believe how much my life has changed. Thank you, Nathaniel.”
With that, she raced from the room, dragging her suitcase behind her.
When she was gone, Nate closed his eyes and began praying. “Please get us through this. Don’t let anything happen to her,” he stated, before opening his eyes. “I hope I didn't just make a huge mistake.”
Nate grabbed his gear and headed out.
It was time to put his faith in Oracle and her visions. If she was wrong, it would be Avalon who paid the price.
They were about to dangle her in front of a psychic killer. It didn't get any crazier than that.
* * *
O R A C L E * * *
Crosspointe
As he stood there, surveying the destruction, Sheriff Rhett Longfellow didn't know what the hell to think of any of it. They didn't have much crime or violence in his town, and now he was worried.
It wasn’t that the house was torched to the ground. That was alarming enough, but it was about the person who would do this kind of thing.
A rogue arsonist scared the hell out of him. It was the last thing they needed in Crosspointe. This was going to be a nightmare, and he knew it.
Once word got out that there had been a body inside the house as it was lit up, the shit was going to hit the fan. The remains, still being pulled from the wreckage, were charred beyond recognition. That was enough to freak anyone out.
Even worse, he likely knew who the victim was. It made his gut knot, as he pictured her before she was dead. She was no longer a happy smiling face. Instead, she was ruined.
The woman who died was probably Mandy Ryan. She was the local party girl in town, and it was a well-known fact that she got away with practically anything that she wanted in life.
Why?
Well, it may have had something to do with her connections. Mandy’s daddy was the mayor.
And this was going to make this a million times worse.
Rhett knew that as soon as she was ID’d, the real nightmare was about to begin for him. Standing between the shit and the fan, when the explosion happened, was going to be the sheriff’s department.
Ultimately, he knew who was going to get the blame. It was going to be riding on his back. Just the mere idea stressed him out. His large hands ran through his hair in frustration.
This wasn’t going to go well, and he knew it. It was only a matter of time.
After all, Rhett was a smart man.
He’d grown up there, he’d worked his way up from deputy to elected sheriff, and he could smell trouble a mile away.
This wasn’t their first suspicious death in town, but it was the first one where the victim was burned.
In his head, he kept praying it was faulty wiring. If that turned out to be the case, his ass was out of the sling with the mayor’s office.
If the universe loved him, he’d get lucky. He was due for some positivity in his life. It had been thirty eight years of shittastic luck.
Then reality set in.
Yeah, he was screwed.
Looking around, he checked out the crowd that had gathered. They were staring, pointing, and taking pictures. They obviously knew who lived there.
Yep.
The mayor would be alerted well before he could get the ID—that was for sure. Gossip in small towns was wicked, and Crosspointe was about as small as you could get. There was no way he was going to stay ahead of this runaway train. Rhett wanted to yank out his brown hair in frustration.
All he wanted was to do his damn job.
He loved Crosspointe, and he loved the people there. His daddy had been sheriff before him, and he wanted to carry on the legacy.
This was home.
This was his past, present, and future.
Rhett would never leave the town that had formed and schooled him, and he’d never abandon his duty to the people there. Everything he ever wanted was right there.
He had a nice cabin.
He had a good job.
He had happiness.
After a few rough years, he finally achieved what he wanted more than anything—
peace.
Now, he was going to keep his fingers crossed and pray that they didn't have something more than an accidental death on their hands.
As he watched the local ME pulling the charred remains from the building, he could see the flashes of cameras.
Well, shit!
This sucked.
Scanning the crowd, his search found someone who didn't look morbidly fascinated. In fact, she looked horrified by what was going on. The look on her face said it all. She wasn’t watching the firemen or the ME. She was staring at the black body bag, and she was scared.
He studied her.
Curiosity was getting the best of him and for so many reasons.
It was hard not to notice her. As a man, he wasn’t immune to her. After all, she was pretty.
No, that wasn’t true.
She was gorgeous.
Her silky dark hair was set off by the chocolate brown eyes beneath thick eyelashes. When she blinked, he found it hard to not watch the long lashes kiss her pale flesh.
It was like a punch to his gut.
Who the hell was this?
One of the other benefits of a small town was that everyone knew everyone else. Yet, he’d never seen her before. Had he, well…he would have made a point to get to know her.
On a personal level.
As he watched her, he was fascinated. She was chewing on her lower lip as she stared at the mess going on behind him.
Rhett was three days past curious.
Not only did this beautiful stranger stand out, but she caught his attention with her simple motions. He never thought he’d give a rat’s ass about eyelashes, but he was drawn to hers.
And her lips.
Lord have mercy!
They were full and pouty.
Rhett wouldn’t mind taking that mouth out for a spin. For some reason, he bet she smelled amazing. A beautiful woman always had an arsenal of things that could break a man down, and he didn't doubt that she would too.
Yeah, he knew how dangerous that could be. Once burned, twice shy, was his motto.
Motioning toward his deputy, the man immediately rushed over.
“Yeah, boss?” he asked.
“Roosevelt, I want you to look over my right shoulder at the brunette in the crowd. She’s wearing a denim jacket and is chewing on her lip. Who the hell is she?”
The deputy did just that, pretending to be carrying on a conversation with his boss.
It wasn’t hard for him to find her in the crowd. “The pretty one?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I don’t have a clue. I haven’t been in town all that long, boss, but I know just about everyone. I don’t recognize her. Had I run into her, I would have asked her out. She’s hot.”
“Down boy,” he warned. Something about the deputy’s comments rubbed him the wrong way.
Then again, he’d thought the same exact thing. How could he fault the young man? He’d been a horny twenty three year old once too. Only, he’d been married at the time.
Horny and married didn't work well together.
Well, not in his experience.
He thought about the woman.
“Does she still look freaked out?” he asked.
Roosevelt focused on her. “Yeah, she does. It looks like she’s about to bolt.”
Slowly, he turned.
The man was right.
She looked like a deer in headlights, ready to run.
“I want you to follow her. Get me her address, and let me know where she rests her head at night.”
“Do you want it on the DL?”
He laughed. “Yeah, I do. I like to know all the strangers in my town, and eventually, I’m going to be welcoming her to Crosspointe.”
Yeah, once the shit died down.
The man nodded. “I’ll run her plate if she gets into a car. It won’t take me long to get an ID.”
The sheriff patted him on the back. “You’re a good deputy, Roosevelt. You’re a great addition to our team.”
The man raced off when he saw the pretty brunette scurrying away. There was no way he was going to let his boss down.
Rhett Longfellow watched his deputy head out. When he was gone, he switched his focus back to their new ME. He was leaning over the charred remains, studying the victim.
Heading over, he joined him. “Doc, what do you have? I need you to tell me it’s not Mandy Ryan. If it is, our boss is going to be on the warpath.”
Doctor Marco Allen glanced up from the remains. “I can’t tell you much,” he stated. “From the rings on her fingers, melted into her flesh, and the breast tissue that wasn’t as badly charred—all that I can tell you is that it’s likely a female.”
“Great. We’re boned.”
He knew it. It was going to be Mandy Ryan. His ass was grass.
The doctor didn’t disagree.
“I’m glad I’m not in your position, Sheriff.”
Yeah, Rhett wished he wasn’t either.
“I’ll know more once I open her up.”
“And when will that be? I’ve already called the town dentist for records. I need an ID, and fast.”
He understood the urgency.
“As soon as I get them, you’ll get an ID. Why don’t you give me some time with her, and I’ll see what I can dig up?”