The Lawman's Legacy (Love Inspired Suspense) (5 page)

“I’m hungry. Want to help me make the fish?” She sidestepped his question, pulling him toward the refrigerator.

She’d think about Olivia after Tyler went to bed.

She’d think about the promise she’d made to her.

Think about the secret she’d hidden beneath the floorboard in her closet.

Think about truth and lies and the fine line between protecting someone and obstructing justice.

Think.

Pray.

Hope that God would help her figure out what to do, because she didn’t know, couldn’t decide.

Right path.

Wrong path.

She’d stopped knowing which one she was on years ago.

Now she all wanted was to keep Tyler safe.

Please, God, help me keep him safe.

FIVE

M
idnight came and went. Two o’clock. Three. Sleepless, Merry listened to the house groan and the wind howl. Lonely. That’s how she felt. Lonely and unsure.

All the prayer and thinking hadn’t changed anything. She still didn’t know what to do.

“Mommy?” Tyler called out above the sound of the howling wind, and she hurried across the hall and into his room.

“What is it, sweetie? Did the wind wake you?” She flicked on the light, her heart jumping as she saw the empty bed.

“The policeman is back.” Tyler stood near the window that overlooked the front yard, his black hair mussed, his blue pajamas twisted around his hips.

“It’s too early for him to be here.” She walked to the window and lifted Tyler. Wide awake, he was wiggly and active and very difficult to hug. Sleepy, he cuddled close, his arms wrapping around her neck.

“He is there, Mommy. See?” He pointed out the window, and she looked, her heart skipping a beat as she spotted a dark SUV parked at the curb. Tinted windows blocked her view of the interior.

She stepped back, pulled Tyler a little closer.

“That’s not a police car, Ty. It’s someone else’s.”

“But I saw him. He was coming right up to the front door.”

His words shivered along her spine and filled her with cold, hard dread. No one wandered around the neighborhood at three in the morning unless they were up to no good.

She flicked off the light, set Tyler on his bed. “Go back to sleep, sweetie. We’ve got church in a few hours, and you don’t want to be a grumpy bear.”

“But he’s coming, Mommy. I want to show him my other cars.”

“Go to sleep.” She dropped a kiss on his head and walked back to the window, her heart beating a hard, heavy rhythm.

Outside, darkness shadowed the yard, but she was sure she saw footprints in the blanket of white snow.

Go down. Look out the living room window and the peephole in the door.

She knew what she had to do.

Knew it, but didn’t want to.

She’d never been overly brave. Mice freaked her out. Surprises made her unhappy. But she was a mother. A single mother. No hero husband was going to run to the rescue and take care of things, and she couldn’t wait around and hope that Tyler had been mistaken. If someone was wandering around outside the house, she needed to know it, and the only way to know was to look.

Go. Now!

She kept the lights off as she walked down the stairs, her hand sliding along the glossy wood banister, her pulse thrumming with fear. A quick peek through the peephole revealed nothing, and she moved to the living room window, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end, every nerve alive as she peered into the yard.

The wind swept powdery snow across the road and bowed the pine tree that stood at the corner of the front yard. Long shadows danced beneath the streetlights. Human? Inorganic? The white picket fence that she’d painted in the summer seemed to bend beneath the strength of the wind, and the gate swung eerily. Had Douglas latched it when he left? Had someone else unlatched it?

Something moved, and she jumped, biting back a scream as one of Tyler’s toys rolled in the wind.

There! Just a few feet from the porch. Footsteps in the snow.

Someone
had
been there.

Someone might
still
be there.

Ice flowed through her blood, her pulse racing with terror. She grabbed the phone, dialing 9-1-1 as a shadow separated itself from behind the pine tree. Tall. Thin. She couldn’t make out features or clothes, couldn’t see more than shadows and shapes.

“9-1-1. What is the state of your emergency?”

“I need the police. Someone is outside my house,” she whispered, though she knew whoever was outside couldn’t hear. Whispered because fear trapped the words in her throat, made it nearly impossible for her to get them out.

“Is he trying to enter your house?”

“I don’t know.”

“We’ll send a patrol car out. Stay inside until it arrives.”

“Okay.” She didn’t have to be told twice. There was no way she planned to walk outside and investigate. As a matter of fact, she’d rather not investigate from inside.

She stepped away from the window, but kept her eyes on the figure that stood staring at her house. He looked up, seemed to be eyeing something on the second floor. Had Tyler turned on the light? Was he standing in the window of his room?

Her stomach lurched, terror for her son making her shake.

She ran to the front door, flicked the switch to turn on the porch light, hoping to distract the man, maybe even scare him off.

Who was he?

What did he want?

Why was he still standing at the edge of her gated yard?

Questions filled her mind, but she had no answers.

An entire year of peace. An entire year feeling that Fitzgerald Bay might just be the safe haven she’d been searching for.

An entire year, and she’d loved every minute of it.

But it was over.

She felt the truth of that as she moved back to the living room window. The intruder shifted, and she knew he sensed her there in the darkness. She felt the weight of his stare, knew that the world she’d created, the
lie
she’d created was about to unravel.

Please, God, help me keep Tyler safe.

Please, let me
keep
him.

The interior light of the SUV flashed across blond hair and hollow cheeks as the man jumped into the vehicle.

Blond hair.

Not black.

She should have been relieved, but she wasn’t.

Should have relaxed as the SUV drove away, but she couldn’t.

Someone had stalked her house while she slept. Someone had stared up at Tyler’s room.

Leave town. Don’t ever come back.

Nicole’s words whispered through her mind. A reminder. A warning. She needed to heed it, needed to pack and go like she had so many times before.

Only things were different this time.

Olivia was dead.

Merry had found the body.

Douglas Fitzgerald was on the hunt for a killer, and he seemed to think Merry knew something that would lead him to his prey.

He’d hunt
her
if she left. That, more than anything, kept her tied to Fitzgerald Bay.

A marked SUV pulled up in front of the house, lights flashing, sirens off. Merry hurried to open the door, stepping onto the porch, cold wind blowing through her flannel pajamas and whipping her hair as a broad figure jogged toward the house. Nearly blind from the wind, snow and hair blowing in her face, she still knew who was coming toward her. She felt it from the tip of her frozen toes to the icy edges of her wild hair.

Felt
him.

Her stomach clenched.

Not in fear this time.

In acknowledgment.

“I hear you had an early morning visitor.” Douglas’s voice flowed over her, deep and rich as dark chocolate and even more comforting. She wanted to throw herself into his arms, bury her face against his chest and confess everything. Every secret, every fear.

Stupid.

Foolhardy.

She stepped back into the house, her heart thundering with the need to confess it all, with the desire to share her burden with someone else.

But the consequences would be too great, the risks far outweighing any benefit.

“Yes. He was in the yard, staring at the house.”

“Did he try to get in?” He repeated the question the 9-1-1 operator had asked, flecks of snow melting in his black hair as he urged her farther into the house and closed the door.

“I don’t think so.”

“Tell me what you saw.” He pulled out a small notepad, wrote quickly as she described the SUV, the tall, lean man, the feeling that he was staring right at her.

“Did you recognize him? Was he someone you’ve seen before?” Douglas looked up from his notes, his eyes searing into hers. Concern. Compassion. Strength. She saw them all in the depth of his gaze.

Saw them. Wanted to cling to them.

She swallowed down the desperate need to tell him what she feared—that Tyler’s father had come looking for his son.

Come looking for revenge.

“No.” Her voice shook, her hand trembling as she brushed cold, wet curls from her cheek.

“Here. Come sit down while I take a look around outside.” He led her to the love seat in the living room, urging her onto the cushions, his hands gentle and warm through her flannel sleeves.

Flannel sleeves?

She glanced down at her faded blue pajamas. Pink and yellow hearts danced in wavy lines across fabric that had seen better days, and she blushed, yanking the knit throw from the back of the love seat and pulling it around her shoulders.

As if that would help.

He’d already seen everything there was to see.

Wild, wet hair.

Faded pajamas.

Multicolored toenails peeking out from too-long cuffs.

As if he sensed her thoughts, his gaze dropped to her feet, to the toenails she’d let Tyler paint green and orange and purple.

“Nice.” His lips quirked, and she blushed again.

“I thought you were going to check on things outside.”

“I am.”
In my own good time.

She was sure she heard the words, though he didn’t speak them. Didn’t do anything but smile and turn away. Walk out the front door.

She stood, dragging the blanket more tightly around her shoulders, watching from the window as he crisscrossed the front yard, stopped near the pine tree, bent down, studying something.

Having him there felt better than it should.

Safer than it should.

He looked up, and she could see his eyes gleaming in the darkness, knew he was watching her watch him. Her heart jumped, her pulse raced.

Fool!

The last person who should be making her heart jump and her pulse race was Douglas Fitzgerald.
Captain
Douglas Fitzgerald.

She turned away, walking into the kitchen and flipping on the light. She needed caffeine to clear her head. Maybe one of the double chocolate cookies she’d baked earlier to settle her churning stomach.

She
needed
to pull herself together.

Someone had been outside her house, but that didn’t mean her world was crumbling. It didn’t mean Tyler’s father had found them. It didn’t mean Merry needed to throw herself into strong capable arms and beg for help.

But maybe she wanted to.

Maybe, for once, she didn’t want to go it alone.

She shivered, wiping away water that dripped from her hair and down her cheek, wishing she hadn’t promised to keep Olivia’s secret. If she hadn’t, she could have given Douglas what Olivia had left with her. One less secret to keep. One less burden to bear.

Someone rapped on the back door, and Merry jumped.

“Merry? Open up,” Douglas called out, and she hurried to unlock the door.

“Thanks. It’s wicked out there tonight.” He brushed snow from his coat, brushed it from soft black hair.

“Want some coffee?” She turned away, afraid if she didn’t, she’d look into his eyes and just keep on looking.

“Sure.” He accepted the steaming mug, wrapped broad hands around the sturdy porcelain. “You have an alarm system, don’t you?”

“I had one installed when I moved in. Ida said it wasn’t necessary, but I feel more secure if I have one. Not that I don’t think Fitzgerald Bay is safe, I do, but you just never know. I mean, look what…”
Stop talking. Stop right now!

She took a deep breath, tried to quiet her nerves and still her tongue.

“Look what happened to Olivia?”

“Yes.”

“It’s good you’re thinking that way. The person who was outside your house wasn’t just in your front yard. He walked from his car to your porch, then around to the back door. He stopped at every window on the way there. He wanted a way in. He just didn’t find it.” He eyed her over the rim of the cup, his eyes blazing.

“What now?” she asked, because she wasn’t sure what else to say. She didn’t believe the attempt was random. Didn’t think someone had chosen her quaint little Cape Cod over the larger more elaborate homes on the street as the one that would yield good returns on a robbery.

“I’m going to dust for prints. Maybe we’ll pull one that matches someone who’s already in the system.”

“If you do get a match, what then?”

“We’ll find our perp.”

“You make it sound easy.”

“It would be easier if you’d tell me everything you know. Whatever you’re hiding, Merry, why don’t you tell me about it? Let me help you?” His hands cupped her shoulders, his touch light, but she felt it deeply, felt the connection he was trying to build. That she wanted to build, too.