Silent Killer

Chapter Thirteen

The house on Madison was half the size of the parsonage where Cathy had lived with Mark and Seth. The church had provided them with a modern twenty-five-hundred-square-foot home that she had decorated in a simple, traditional style. Due to Mark’s thriftiness, they had purchased inexpensive furniture, and only Cathy’s flair for decorating had kept their home from looking like an assortment of yard-sale finds. Over the years, she had used her owner’s discount at Treasures to buy a few antique items that had added a certain elegance to their home. She liked the idea of starting fresh now and being able to decorate this rental house without any input from other people, including her mother and mother-in-law. The movers had brought only the pieces of furniture she had chosen. She intended to sell the other items that were still in storage and gradually replace them with better pieces.

Ruth Ann had agreed to work at Treasures today, which she seldom did on Saturday mornings, so that Lorie could help Cathy instruct the movers and begin the grueling job of unpacking a slew of boxes. At one o’clock, Lorie had left to relieve Ruth Ann, and Cathy had taken a short lunch break, eating a pack of cheese and crackers and downing a diet cola.

After unpacking a box filled with bed linens, she carried an armload down the hall and into the kitchen, where the compact washer and dryer were stored in a small closet behind louvered doors. She put the sheets and pillowcases in the washer and laid the folded blankets and quilts on the floor to be washed later. Leaving the washer chugging away, Cathy strolled through the house, taking her time to explore each room. The twelve-hundred-square-foot house had been built in the early fifties and added on to in the mid-sixties. The exterior was a combination of dark red brick and wooden shingles that had recently been painted a muted moss green. One of the three bedrooms was tiny, only eight by nine. It would make a perfect studio/workroom for her. She could set up her drafting table and her sewing machine and add some bookcases along the back wall.

She intended to save the larger, twelve-by-twelve bedroom for Seth. The sturdy oak furniture that Lorie had helped her find through their connections with statewide antique malls and furniture outlets looked really good in there. Seth’s old bedroom furniture, a gift from J.B. and Mona, had been some of the cheapest on the market because it was made from pressed wood. She’d sell the set for little to nothing or give it away.

The other bedroom, the one at the back of the house, was ten by twelve, and the only furniture in the room was an antique four-poster bed, a walnut chifforobe and a lady’s writing table. All of the items had once graced the parsonage’s small guest room, each item purchased with the money she had earned at Treasures. This was her bedroom. She intended to paint it a pale, creamy yellow. Mark had disliked yellow, which was her favorite color, so she’d never been able to use it in her home or even wear a yellow blouse.

Just as she headed toward the kitchen, intending to unpack the pots and pans and dishes and glassware, the doorbell rang. When she entered the living room, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror she and Lorie had hung over the sofa. A few stray tendrils of hair had loosened from her ponytail, and perspiration had erased most of her makeup. But she’d been too busy to worry about her appearance.

She peered through the viewfinder in the front door, smiled, opened the door and greeted her visitor.

“Hi there,” Jack said.

“Hi,” Cathy replied. “Please come in.”

“Are you sure? I know you’re moving in today, but when I drove by, I didn’t see any other cars here, so I thought I’d stop and offer to help out.”

“In that case, most definitely come on in.” Cathy held open the door for him. As he eased past her, her breath caught in her throat.

He glanced around at the living room, which held a sofa and one chair and more than a dozen unopened boxes.

“Didn’t the Wilsons used to live here?” Jack asked.

“The Wilsons? I don’t remember them. I’m renting the house from a lady who lives in Chattanooga. Leslie McCaf-ferty.”

“She used to be Leslie Wilson,” Jack said. “I dated her a couple of times back in high school. Nice girl.”

“As I recall, you dated a lot of girls.” Cathy grinned. “I knew who you were a long time before you knew I existed.”

“I was a few years ahead of you in school and not into young, innocent girls.” Jack reached out and tucked a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear. “In case no one has told you recently, you’re even prettier now than you were at seventeen.”

A flush of warmth spread through Cathy, a direct result of the compliment he’d paid her. Odd. She didn’t remember Jack being the type to flatter a girl. He had been a moody, dark soul back then, and she suspected that in many ways he still was. But she liked seeing this side of him.

“So, did you really stop by to help me?” she asked.

“Absolutely. Point me in the right direction and issue orders.”

“How about helping me unpack the kitchen stuff,” she said. “I can’t reach some of the upper cabinets without a step stool.”

“Lead the way.”

Three hours later, with the kitchen boxes unpacked and the items neatly stored, the bed linens washed, dried and put in place on the four-poster, Cathy led Jack into the small bedroom at the front of the house.

“I’m going to use this as my workroom,” she told him.

He eyed the two large boxes pushed against the wall near the closet. “Want me to start with those?”

She nodded. “My portable sewing machine is in the smaller one. If you’ll unpack it and set it on that desk”-she pointed to the rectangular pine desk painted white-“I’ll take the packing tape off the larger one. My drafting table is in there. I haven’t used it in years.”

“Why didn’t you go to college the way you’d planned and become an architect?” Jack asked.

Bent over the large box, her back to Jack, Cathy stiffened. She had known that it was only a matter of time before he started asking questions. Not that this question would be difficult to answer, but the reply would invariably lead to more questions. And the answer to those would require either several lies or a major confession.

She took the box cutter in her hand and ripped through the packing tape. Staying focused on the task at hand, she replied casually, “I got married instead. And I intended to eventually go back to school and get my degree, but Mark and I moved around quite a bit as he went from one church to another. And, of course, Seth kept me pretty busy.”

Holding her breath, she waited for more questions. When Jack didn’t say anything else, she glanced at him and found him busy removing her sewing machine from the box. She breathed a sigh of relief.

As he placed the sewing machine on the desk, he asked, “How about we order something for supper and I stay here and help you until I have to go to work?”

“What time do you have to go in?”

“Eleven,” he replied. “I’m filling in for Tony Bradley. He’s at the hospital with his wife, who went into labor at ten-thirty this morning.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind? I’d appreciate the help. Lorie mentioned coming back around six-thirty.”

“We’ll order dinner for three, my treat. Can you recommend a place that delivers?”

“Why don’t I call Lorie and have her pick up something on her way here? And dinner is on me,” she told him. “It’s the least I can do to pay you back for helping me.”

“Yes, ma’am.” With a cocky, boyish grin on his face, he saluted her. “You call Lorie, and I’ll set up your drafting table.”

“Okay.” Feeling relaxed and happy, she returned his smile. “How about Italian? Frankie’s on Market Street has the best lasagna and a tomato pesto to die for.”

“Any Italian cream cake?” Jack asked.

“Oh my God, yes. You can gain five pounds just smelling it.”

He looked her over from head to toe and then leisurely made his way back up, stopping when their gazes met. “Why don’t you order cake for all three of us? A few extra pounds won’t hurt your figure.”

Cathy felt almost giddy and couldn’t hold back the laughter bubbling over inside her. After Seth was born and she’d been what some would have called pleasingly plump, Mark had helped her stick to a strict diet until she was at what he considered an acceptable weight. And over the years, he had kept a close eye on her eating habits. He had disapproved of her tendency to turn to food for comfort. And as J.B. had pointed out to her and Mona more than once, gluttony was a sin.

“I’ll order two pieces,” she said. “Lorie and I can split a piece and not feel too guilty for indulging.”

Jack shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He scanned the limited space in the small room. “Where do you want me to put the table?”

“There”-Cathy pointed to the area-“near the windows so that I can get a lot of natural sunlight during the day.”

He nodded. “Sure thing.”

She hurried out of the room, down the hall and into the bedroom, where she retrieved her phone from her purse. She hit the preprogrammed number for Treasures.

“Hey there. How’s the unpacking going?” Lorie asked.

“Quite well,” Cathy replied. “Especially since Jack showed up several hours ago and has been helping me.”

“He can’t seem to stay away from you, can he?”

“I don’t know, but if that’s the case, then I’m glad, because the feeling is mutual.” She lowered her voice. “Just being around him makes me happy. I don’t know exactly what it is about him, about us being together, but…I don’t know how to explain it.”

“You don’t have to. Whenever I’m within twenty feet of Mike, all I want to do is reach out and grab him.”

“Look, I didn’t mean to get all soft and gooey on you. I’m actually calling to ask for a favor.”

“You don’t want me to show up tonight as planned.”

“Yes, I do want you to come over, just as we’d planned, but I’d like for you to stop by Frankie’s and pick up supper for three. Get the lasagna, Italian salad, bread sticks, tomato pesto and two slices of Italian cream cake.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be alone with Jack? I could have them deliver dinner for two.”

“No, I don’t think I’m ready for a romantic dinner, just the two of us alone here at the house.” Cathy simply couldn’t handle more than friendship from Jack or any other man. Not yet.

“Okay, then. I’ll see y’all around six-thirty. And I’ll bring supper.”

Although she had been expecting Griff’s call, Nic nearly jumped out of her skin when her phone rang. She needed to hear his voice, needed to hear him tell her that he loved her and missed her as much as she missed him.

She hated the fact that in recent months she had become a jealous, insecure wife. Priding herself on being a strong, independent woman, Nic detested any weakness in herself. It had taken her a long time to completely trust Griff and even longer to trust the way she felt about him. Loving him had been the greatest risk she’d ever taken. She had gambled with her very soul, and now she was wondering if she’d made a mistake.

“Hello.” Crap! Her voice sounded too soft, too vulnerable. “How’s the trip going?” She forced a light, cheerful note into the question.

“I miss you,” he told her and sounded damn sincere.

“I miss you, too.”

“The next time I have to be away this long, you’re going to have to come with me.”

“You really do miss me, don’t you?”

“More than you could ever know.”

“Don’t be so sure of that.”

“Everything all right there?” he asked.

“Things are pretty much the way you left them. Holt Keinan arrived today, and Ben Trahern went back to Knoxville.” The Powell agents rotated two-week stays at Griffin’s Rest and while there were in charge of security. “And Maleah’s here, too.”

“Any special reason she’s there?”

“No. I just wanted her here with me for a while. Any objections?”

“What’s wrong, Nic?”

“Why do you think something’s wrong?”

“I can hear it in your voice.” He paused, waiting for her to reply. When she didn’t, he added, “And your wanting Maleah to stay at Griffin’s Rest is a dead giveaway.”

“I need a friend sometimes. Someone who is just my friend. You have Sanders and Yvette and even Barbara Jean.”

“They’re your friends, too.”

She didn’t know how to respond. Yes, Barbara Jean was a friend, but her loyalty was to Sanders, the man she loved, and Sanders’s loyalty was always first and foremost to Griff and to her only because she was Griff’s wife. As far as Yvette was concerned, Nic accepted her share of the blame that they were not good friends. Early in her marriage, Yvette had reached out to her, and she had sensed that Yvette wanted them to be friends. She had to admit that it had been easier to consider Yvette a friend when she’d lived in London, half a world away from Tennessee.

“You’re worrying me, honey,” he said. “Do I need to fly home tonight?”

“No, of course not. I’m fine. Just missing you. But I’m glad you’ll be home day after tomorrow.”

He grunted. “That’s the thing. I’ve run into a few snags, and it looks like I may be here awhile longer.”

“How much longer?”

“Four or five days. A week at most.”

“A week? Why, what’s happened? I thought this was just a routine business trip.”

“It’s a business trip that’s run into some problems that I have to fix.”

She needed to tell him that there were a few problems here at home he needed to fix, but instead she said, “I may fly out to San Francisco and visit Charles David.”

“Why don’t you do that, honey, and take Maleah with you. I’m sure your brother would love to see you.”

“Are the business problems you’re trying to fix putting you in any danger?” Nic asked point-blank. She knew how he had acquired his vast wealth and the kinds of people he’d dealt with in his past.

“You shouldn’t be so intuitive. Yes, there is a certain risk, but I’m working on eliminating any future problems.”

“Who do you have there with you?”

“Luke Sentell. And a man from Cam Hendrix’s firm, too. He’s an expert in international law. I brought him along to work with the European lawyers I have to deal with on this project.”

If Griff had taken Luke Sentell with him to act as his bodyguard, that meant he had anticipated trouble-big trouble. Sentell was a former Delta Force commando. “If you go and get yourself killed, Griffin Powell, I’ll never forgive you.”

Griff chuckled. “That alone is reason enough to stay alive.”

“Does Yvette know what you’re doing?”

Silence.

Then he took a deep breath and replied, “Yes.”

“I see.”

“No, you don’t. What I’m dealing with right now concerns a part of the past that has come back to haunt me and Yvette and Sanders. That’s the only reason they know more about this than you do. Believe me, honey, I want to protect you from-”

“When you come home, you’ll tell me everything.” She didn’t add “or else,” but she might as well have.

“I’ll tell you everything I can. I promise.”

Tears gathered in her eyes. Damn it, she hated women who cried at the drop of a hat. She’d never been the type. She cleared her throat and swatted away the pesky tears.

“Nic?”

“Come home to me, okay?”

“I will. I’ll call you tomorrow night. And Nic-I love you. You know that. You’re everything to me.”

“Same here,” she told him. “I love you.”

Griffin Powell laid his phone on the table and walked away, his heart heavy. He hated himself for what this secrecy was doing to Nic, the person he loved more than life itself. But how could he tell her that the ghosts of a past he had thought dead and buried had suddenly reappeared and possibly threatened not only his life, but the lives of Sanders and Yvette and anyone they loved?

At this point, there were only rumors. Vague. Unsubstantiated. Underworld gossip. But if there was even a grain of truth in the vague reports he had received, he didn’t dare ignore them.

Luke Sentell stood at the windows overlooking the Paris street below the fourth-floor apartment. “She’s sleeping.”

“Did you have to give her an injection?” Griff asked.

“Yes. She was too agitated to rest otherwise and finally agreed that she needed sleep. She’d been awake for more than forty-eight hours.”

“I hate what this is doing to her.”

“It’s necessary.”

Griff nodded.

“You should rest for a while, too,” Luke told him.

“I will.”

Griff left the parlor, intending to go to his bedroom and try to get a few hours sleep, but as he passed the guest room, he heard her moaning loudly. He eased back the partially open door. She tossed restlessly in her sleep, her arms flaying about as if she were fighting off demons.

Perhaps she was. He had no idea what vivid images appeared in her mind, even when she was asleep.

He walked quietly into the room and over to the bed. When he reached down and pulled the wrinkled sheet and silk coverlet up and over her, she cried out, the sound chilling. And then she settled again, quiet and unmoving.

Griff stood by her bed and watched her sleep for several minutes. Meredith Sinclair’s curly red hair looked like orange flames against the cream silk pillowcase. Without makeup on her round, freckled face, she looked young. Much younger than her twenty-nine years.

“I’m sorry, Meredith,” he whispered. “I know what this is costing you. But Yvette understands that you could well be our only hope of finding out the truth. That’s why she sent you with me.”

Cathy made a pot of decaf coffee and served it with the Italian cream cake. Both pieces were enormous. Frankie’s was known for its large servings. Jack and Lorie had cleared away the Styrofoam containers that had held their dinner and dumped them and the used plastic utensils into a large black garbage bag. When Cathy lifted the silver serving tray loaded with the coffee pot, three cups and saucers, a sugar bowl and a creamer, as well as three plates and plastic forks, Jack took the tray from her and carried it over to the small oak kitchen table. After he sat down, she distributed the cups, saucers, plates and forks and then poured the coffee. She hadn’t been able to find her silverware, and the only dishes she had unpacked were her everyday Wal-Mart pottery. Thankfully, one of the first boxes she had unpacked had contained her coffee service, which she had bought several years ago using her Treasures discount.

“This cake looks delicious,” Jack said. “I have a weakness for sweets, especially cakes.”

Lorie surveyed his long, lean body. “Either you have a great metabolism or you work out like crazy to keep that great toned body.”

Jack chuckled, but before he could comment, the doorbell rang.

“Are you expecting someone?” Lorie asked.

“No, I’m not.” Cathy laid down her plastic fork and scooted back her chair. “If y’all will excuse me, I’ll go see who it is.”

“If it’s a tall, dark, handsome stranger, invite him in,” Lorie said. “And I’ll take him home with me.”

Cathy laughed as she left the kitchen. Despite all the hard work involved in moving and unpacking, Cathy had enjoyed the day immensely, in great part thanks to Jack. And the easy camaraderie that she and Jack and Lorie had shared this evening reminded her that this was the way life should always be.

When she reached the front door, she glanced through the viewfinder and smiled when she saw Seth standing on her porch. She opened the door without hesitation, ready to welcome her son, but suddenly she saw that he was not alone. Brother Donnie Hovater and his daughter were with Seth, and Missy held what appeared to be a potted plant of some sort.

“Hi, Mom,” Seth said.

Donnie Hovater tapped his daughter’s shoulder.

Missy cleared her throat, held out the plant that sported a small red bow and said, “Happy housewarming, Mrs. Cantrell.”

Cathy accepted the gift and invited them into the living room. “Please come in. And excuse the mess. I’m afraid I’ve made only a small dent in the unpacking.”

“That’s quite all right,” Donnie said as they entered the house. When he heard laughter coming from the kitchen, his brows rose quizzically. “Are we interrupting anything?”

“No, certainly not.” Cathy shut the door and motioned to the sofa. “Please, won’t y’all sit down?” She looked at Seth, puzzled as to why he was with the Hovaters. “If you’d like to see the house, feel free to look around.” Then she turned back to Donnie. “I have decaf coffee. Would you care for some?”

He shook his head, then asked, “Do you have dinner guests?”

Right on cue, Lorie and Jack came out of the kitchen. Lorie answered for Cathy. “Just us,” she said as she looked at Seth. “Hello, Brother Hovater. I’m not sure if you remember me. I’m Lorie Hammonds. We met a couple of months ago. Reverend Floyd introduced us.”

“Yes, of course, Ms. Hammonds,” he said. “How nice to see you again.” He eyed Jack, who stepped forward and offered his hand.

“Jackson Perdue.”

They shook hands.

“I’m Donnie Hovater, and this is my daughter, Melissa.”

Cathy felt an odd tension in the air, and when she glanced at Seth, she realized he stood there ramrod straight, his gaze riveted to Jack.

“What’s he doing here?” Seth asked.

“Seth, where are your manners?” She scolded her son as if he were a child, but then he was acting like a child.

“Sorry,” Seth grumbled.

Cathy suddenly realized that she was fiercely clutching the potted plant, so she walked past her son and placed the plant on the mantel at the opposite end of the living room. “Jack is a friend. He and Lorie have been helping me unpack today, and we decided to order dinner from Frankie’s.”

“We probably should have waited before stopping by,” Donnie said. “But I thought it would give you and Seth a chance to visit and for him to see your new home.”

“Brother Hovater is taking Missy and me over to the community center for the Christian youth rally, and I asked him if we could stop by here on the way,” Seth said. “If I’d known he was here…uh…that you had company, we wouldn’t have bothered.”

“Felicity and Charity Harper were going with us, but their plans changed, so their dad’s taking them,” Missy explained.

“I hadn’t heard anything about this youth rally,” Cathy said, feeling like a stranger to her own son. “What sort of…?”

“It’s a community event and will be adequately chaperoned,” Donnie told her. “If I thought it wasn’t an appropriate event, I certainly wouldn’t allow Missy to attend.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to imply otherwise,” Cathy assured him. “I’m afraid that since Seth is living with his grandparents for the time being, I’m out of the loop on his social life.”

“This rally is one of Patsy Floyd’s Uniting-Christians projects, isn’t it?” Lorie asked.

“Yes, I believe so,” Donnie replied. “However, I’ve been assured that it is a nondenominational event, and no Methodist doctrine will be included.”

Cathy quickly glanced from Lorie to Jack. She noted the way Lorie’s mouth twitched and how, with a broad grin, Jack glanced down at his feet.

“Seth, since you’re here, would you like to see the rest of the house?” Cathy asked. “I can show you your room first and-”

“Not tonight,” Seth answered coolly, glaring at Jack. “We don’t have time.” He looked pleadingly at Donnie. “We’d better get going, hadn’t we?”

“Uh, yes, yes, I guess we had.” Donnie seemed taken off guard by Seth’s sudden need to leave. “I look forward to seeing you in church Sunday, Cathy.” He glanced from Lorie to Jack. “And y’all are, of course, invited. Anytime. Anytime.”

Before Donnie finished issuing his invitation, Seth was opening the front door. Cathy followed him out onto the porch, catching up with him and grabbing his arm.

“Why are you acting this way?” she asked him.

“What way?”

“I’m happy that you wanted to stop by to see me and our new home. I wish you wouldn’t rush off in a huff just because Jack is here.”

“I don’t like him.” Seth pulled away from her and walked down the steps and into the yard.

Cathy followed. “You don’t know him.”

“Are you dating him?”

She groaned silently. “Is that the reason for your bad attitude? You don’t want me to start dating because you think I’d somehow be disloyal to Mark…to your dad if I did?” She laid her hand on his shoulder, ignoring the fact that Donnie Hovater and his daughter stood on the porch directly behind them and possibly could hear their conversation. “Mark would not disapprove of my dating. He would want me to go on with my life.”

“Dad would expect you to date someone like Brother Hovater.” Seth looked her square in the eye. “Granddad says that Perdue guy is bad news, and he’s a trained killer and all messed up in his head.”

Cathy wanted to scream. Actually, she wanted to strangle J.B. How dare he say such things to Seth. And about Jack, of all people. Count to ten. Say a prayer. Do something to keep from exploding and taking your anger out on your son.

“Jack is a former Army Ranger,” Cathy said as calmly as possible. “He’s a decorated soldier. Your grandfather’s choice of words implied something altogether inaccurate.”

“Are you saying Granddad lied?” Seth demanded vehemently as he jerked away from her.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Donnie said as he and Missy approached them. “And I certainly don’t mean to interfere in what appears to be a family disagreement, but, Seth, son”-he patted Seth on the back-“your grandfather would expect you to show your mother the proper respect. And I’m sure she didn’t mean to imply that J.B. lied. I believe she was trying to tell you that J.B. might have been misinformed about Mr. Perdue.”

“So, he used to be a soldier,” Seth said. “They train soldiers to kill, don’t they? Dad didn’t believe in killing. He believed in turning the other cheek, in loving your fellow man.” Seth paused for half a second, and when Cathy simply stared at him, uncertain how to respond, he went on. “After what you’ve been through this past year, the last kind of guy you need right now is somebody who’s got his own mental problems.”

Seth had rendered her momentarily speechless. Who had her son become in the year she’d been away? Where was the compassionate, tenderhearted, caring young man she had raised? J.B. had done a good job of trying to turn Seth into a duplicate of Mark, and she hated him for doing it.

“You and I will talk tomorrow,” Cathy said. “I’d like for you to have lunch with me.”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to ask Granddad.”

“I have an idea,” Donnie interrupted again. “Why don’t Missy and I take you and your mother out for lunch tomorrow after church? I’m sure your grandparents won’t object.”

“Yeah, sure, thanks. That would be great.” Seth looked at Cathy, waiting for her to agree.

“Yes, thank you,” Cathy replied.

Donnie spread his arms out, placing one around Seth’s shoulders and the other around his daughter’s waist. “Come on, kids. It’s nearly eight o’clock. Y’all don’t want to be late. This thing is from eight tonight until eight in the morning, right?”

“Yes, sir,” Seth said.

“Yes, Daddy, eight to eight.”

Cathy stood in the yard and watched Brother Hovater back out of the driveway. He threw up his hand and waved. She waved back at him and smiled.

Donnie seemed like a very nice man. He had certainly tried his best to act as a mediator between Seth and her tonight. She appreciated his offer to take them to lunch tomorrow, which would give them time to talk without J.B. being involved.

Jack came up behind her so quietly that he startled her when he spoke. “Are you all right?”

She gasped and jumped simultaneously.

“Sorry,” he said.

She turned and faced him. “It’s okay. And yes, I’m all right, but not happy about hearing my father-in-law’s words come out of my son’s mouth.”

“All the more reason you should do everything you can to regain custody of Seth,” Lorie said from where she stood on the porch.

“I hate that my being here tonight bothered your son so much,” Jack said. “But you have to know that he’s not going to approve of your dating, no matter who the guy is. No man will live up to his father. Not in his eyes.”

Lorie and Cathy exchanged quick oh-my-God glances, and then Cathy looked directly at Jack. “That wasn’t Seth talking tonight. That was J.B. Before I went away, before my breakdown, Seth and I were very close. He was my son far more than he was ever Mark’s. Seth and Mark had a good relationship, but…I can’t let this happen. I cannot lose Seth. I will not allow J.B. to manipulate him this way.”

“I wish there was something I could do to help you,” Jack said.

“There isn’t, but thanks. I’ll deal with this in my own way and in my own time.”

“Come on, you two,” Lorie called. “I’ll put on a fresh pot of decaf and we can eat our dessert.”

Jack slipped his arm around Cathy’s waist. She felt his touch in every nerve in her body. A tingling warmth spread through her, an odd mixture of excitement and contentment. Side by side, the strength of his big body comforting her, they went up the steps, onto the porch and into the house.

Jack and Deputy Willis were holding down the fort tonight, and so far, more than four hours into their eight-hour shift, things had been relatively quiet. He glanced at the wall clock. It was already three-thirty Sunday morning. The night dispatcher had taken a total of five calls, and all of them had been easily handled by the night-shift patrolmen on duty. With little to do, he’d found himself thinking about Cathy. When he had returned to Dunmore and taken the job with the sheriff’s department, he’d been at loose ends, uncertain what the future held. Now, here he was back home only a few weeks and he’d hired a contractor to restore his old home and he was pursuing a girl who’d dumped him for another guy nearly seventeen years ago.

Well, maybe he wasn’t actually pursuing Cathy, just renewing their old friendship and seeing where it went. And to be fair, he supposed he couldn’t accuse her of dumping him. He’d been the one who had left her behind when his unit had been sent to the Middle East and he’d wound up spending months as an Iraqi prisoner of war. What had he expected her to do when he’d been reported missing in action?

Just as he lifted his coffee mug to his lips, Jack heard a ruckus at the front entrance, where Deputies Gipson and Dryer were escorting a group of teenagers into the building. He set the mug down on his desk and headed toward the officers and a gang of grumbling youngsters. He counted seven in all, four girls and three boys. Two of the girls were crying, and one of the boys, a redhead, looked scared to death.

“My folks are going to kill me,” one of the girls whined.

“Yeah, my old man will ground me for the rest of my life,” the frightened redhead said.

“Ah, shut up pissing and moaning,” said a stocky boy with a long, dark ponytail.

“You shut up,” a tattooed girl with jet black hair and heavy purple eye shadow told him. “You’re the reason we’re in this mess. You promised that nobody would know if we slipped away for a while, just to smoke and drink a few beers. We didn’t know you meant smoke marijuana.”

Jack called out, “What have we here?”

“A bunch of stupid kids. The ones that were reported missing, the ones the police have been looking for,” Deputy Dryer replied. “They didn’t think anybody would miss them when they left the youth rally over at the community center. They were wrong.”

“We just happened to find them a block away in the Piggly Wiggly parking lot,” Gipson said. “They had three six-packs of beer that apparently one of them had stashed there earlier, and a couple of them were smoking pot.”

“Miss Dagger Tattoo and Mr. Tough Guy were the two smoking,” Dryer added.

“We didn’t know it was marijuana,” the tattooed girl said. “I swear we didn’t.”

Gipson rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure, sure.”

A tall, lanky boy with brown hair turned from where he’d been shielding one of the girls with his body. When Jack got a good look at the boy, he sucked in a startled breath.

Son of a bitch. There stood Cathy’s son, Seth, a nervous yet defiant expression on his face. And the girl he’d been trying to protect was none other than Brother Hovater’s daughter.