Page 38 of Risk of a Lifetime
She looked up into the eyes she could barely stand to look away from. The ones she’d let leave because he wanted the world, and she only wanted Crayton…and him. If the times were reversed right now, she’d toss both their suitcases in the back of his truck. Escape to wherever he wanted to go.
He palmed his fingers through his hair and squinted. “What the hell did that mean? Didn’t need my attention. For what? Sometimes, Marcy Bradley, you need to be a little more specific.”
The sheriff cleared his throat. “Could we get back to the case at hand?”
Kennett pecked on the office glass, his hands filled to the brim with food and a tray of drinks, which he deposited on a side table. The sheriff excused himself to go check for incoming faxes. JB retrieved a couple burgers from the sack along with a canned soda and retook his chair, thunking back against the wall with more force than necessary.
Others wouldn’t notice that he practically growled as he bit into the food. Wouldn’t notice the hard sigh as his body released its tension. Wouldn’t notice the flash of sadness in his eyes. She noticed. She noticed more than she had in a long time. She’d hurt him more than she ever realized.
Shaken by the memories, Marcy inched back in her chair.
The sheriff rejoined them empty-handed and grabbed his meal before sitting down behind the desk. “Let’s take a little breather. Been a long day.”
Evans placed a Styrofoam container on the desk in front of her and the two shakes she’d ordered, then took his own food and walked into the adjoining room. Said he needed to check in at home.
She smiled at the heart and flower designs floating around her name on the top of the Styrofoam. Cute. That was a first because Joanie had never been one to be flowery. Nice to know her friend was thinking about her. Marcy sipped her shake and opened the lid of her sandwich box.
The smell of beef, tomatoes, lettuce, and onion triggered her stomach as she reached in for the usual, white-wrapped burger. Her fingers touched a folded piece of paper underneath the sandwich. A note…how nice. Burger in one hand, Marcy was poised to take a bite of the soft bun and makings as she unfolded the note.
She choked on her gasp of inhaled shock. Dropped her food as she stood. Backed away from the terrifying words.
…
JB shot out of his chair, engulfing Marcy in his arms as she turned to him. A quick glance showed a paper on the desk next to her food. Kennett reached over and picked up the note.
“Don’t touch it.” JB grabbed the rookie’s arm.
Kennett jerked his head in a self-imposed sigh and grimace as he released the sheet of paper. “Sorry, man. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Nobody else touch it.” The sheriff motioned to close the door, then nodded to Kennett. “Read what it says.”
“Dear Ms. Lucky, three times is usually the charm. You must have nine lives.” Kennett glanced at Sheriff Davis.
JB felt Marcy tremble in his arms, and he pulled her closer to his chest, one hand rubbing circles on her back. The other pressed into her hair as he held her close. This wasn’t a time to think in terms of boundaries in their relationship. This was about keeping her calm.
“Read the rest,” he said. She deserved to know exactly what they were up against.
Kennett nodded. “…must have nine lives. If you keep being so lucky, I’ll finish off your hot-shot ex-husband instead. Your choice. Your life? Or, his?”
The four men exchanged looks of definable anger. Sheriff Davis motioned for Evans and Kennett to collect the food bags from Joanie’s as evidence.
When JB looked down at Marcy, he’d never seen her so quiet, so pale. He seemed to be the only thing holding her up. After leading her to the low, leather sofa at the back of the sheriff’s office, he sat with her cuddled in his arms. Minutes on minutes passed. The police work wrapped up, and the sheriff closed the door behind himself and the officers as they departed the room.
“Someone really hates me, don’t they?” she said.
“Don’t worry. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”
JB felt himself swaying back and forth from side to side, hoping Marcy would walk through her shock and come out stronger. His mind raced with whys, what-ifs, whens, and hows—as well as plans for survival. He never let himself imagine otherwise when put into a life-or-death situation. Attacks called for justice. Attacks against his ex-wife called for survival. Whoever sent the message would feel JB’s attack mode before this ended.
“What have I done?” she whispered.
“Not a thing.” He kissed the top of her head. “Someone sick enough to write that note doesn’t need you to have done one single thing. Sick people imagine what they want. Wreak havoc from there.”
She sat, cupping his face in her hand. “If you’d been out there on the road by yourself today, and your brakes went out, you’d have gone over the edge. Crashed into the water.”
“Nope. Might have gone over the edge, but you know me…” Trying to lighten the mood, he poked the side of his head with his finger in an always-thinking motion. “Halfway down, I’d have opened the door and did a half-pike into the water. Swam across the lake and back again, then grabbed a couple of fish and backstroked to shore.”
Marcy fake-smiled, and a smidge of color returned to her cheeks. “What kind of fish?”
