When Darlene and Ed pressed me about who Danny was, I blew them off. What could I say? Ed might be a drunk, but he was also a brilliant man. On his worst days, he was still the best lawyer in town. The trouble was, his worst days were becoming his normal days and nothing Darlene or I said seemed to make any difference.

For my part, I tried to keep Danny/Deacon off my mind by cleaning up after Ed. We had three new divorce cases to file and custody motions early next week. I met with the clients, skirting the bounds of practicing law once again. I knew one day soon, Ed wouldn’t be able to rest on the glory of his past reputation and goodwill of the local judiciary. If I wasn’t careful, somebody was going to call us on it.

For now, Ed signed the pleadings I prepared and I took his word for it that he’d read them. Crystal Falls was stuck in the twentieth century on a lot of things. One of them was their court filing system. It would probably be another fifty years before they switched to electronic filing. So, I shlepped across town and gave everything to the clerk by hand.

I made it down exactly two of the courthouse steps before a deep voice shouted my name. “Beth!” I turned and shielded my eyes from the sun. Sheriff Beckett Finch came bounding up to me, his campaign hat in hand.

“Hey, Sheriff,” I said, waving. My heart sank. Beckett had a grim look on his handsome face. Nearly five o’clock and the man was still cleanly shaven. He had a kind twinkle in his blue eyes but I knew there was something wrong.

“You got a minute?” he asked, gently touching my elbow. Beckett Finch was roughly my age. One of the youngest town sheriffs in the state, he’d come to Crystal Falls after I did under circumstances some thought just as strange. He, too, didn’t like to talk about his past. In his case, most of his were public record. He’d been a Navy SEAL serving in the Middle East.

“Sure,” I said, glancing behind me. I said a little prayer that whatever Ed had gotten himself into today, he wasn’t hurt.

“”Look,” Beckett said. He ushered me to a shaded area beneath a tall elm in the town square. “I don’t mean to pry into your business, but I just wanted to make sure everything was okay with you.”

I did a double take. I didn’t know whether to feel relief or indignation. Whatever this was, he wasn’t here about Ed, it seemed.

“With me? Uh. Of course. I mean ... what have you heard?”

Beckett chewed his bottom lip. He had a deep cleft in his chin that lent him a rugged charm he wasn’t even aware of. Whether he knew it or not, Beckett Finch, bachelor sheriff, was considered the catch of the county. To me, he’d just been a solid friend who didn’t ask too many personal questions. Until now, apparently.

“Listen, this is a little awkward for me. And I’m the last one who wants to give credence or even much attention to gossip, but ... rumor has it you had an out-of-town visitor the other day.”

My mouth ran dry. Of course. This was Crystal Falls. Danny probably hadn’t made it off U.S. 10 before half the town saw him headed this way.

“Really?”

Beckett spun his hat in his hand. To his credit, the turn of this conversation seemed to make him just as miserable as it did me. On the one hand, his concern was sweet. On the other, I just wish everyone in this town would mind their own business.

“Are you going to make me come out and say it? Look, I heard you got manhandled by a member of the Dark Saints M.C. Is there something I should know about? Do you need anything?”

Manhandled? I rubbed my brow with my index finger. “No!” My answer came out more abrupt than I wanted. “No.” I tried again, softer. “I mean, thank you for your concern, but it’s not necessary. Whoever told you that was mistaken. That guy was just an ... acquaintance. He brought me some news about somebody we both used to know.”

What else could I say? I’d been so used to guarding my secrets, saying nothing that could clue anyone into where I was from or who I knew from before. Was it really safe now that Sean was dead? Danny had said a lot of things, but I still didn’t know what to believe. Trust no one. That’s how I’d lived my life for the last ten years. Beckett Finch was still part of that list, fair or not.

“Beth, are you sure? If there’s someone harassing you, you know you can come to me. No questions asked.”

“I know. And thank you. But honestly, there’s no there there with this one.”

Beckett didn’t seem convinced. He creased his brow and slid his hat back on his head. “So this acquaintance, is he planning on making a repeat visit?”

Now he was Sheriff Finch again. Though it rankled me, I couldn’t really blame him. It was his job to keep tabs on everything that happened in Crystal Falls. I knew he didn’t want it to get overrun with an M.C. like Port Azrael. As it was, we were smack dab in the middle of territories run by the Devils Hawks out of Laredo, and the Saints in Port Az.

My heart skipped as I tried to think of an answer. Was Danny coming back? Did I want him to? I got a little woozy as I looked at Beckett. He read the conflict in my face and his expression fell. I forced a smile but it was too late. My poker face was slipping today. Danny had rattled me to my core.

“Just remember what I said, okay, Beth? If you need anything, you know how to get a hold of me.”

“Thanks, Sheriff,” I said, giving him a weak salute. “If you don’t mind, I’ve got to head back to the office.”

He nodded. “Me too, I guess. I’ll see you around, Beth.” Beckett shot me a good-natured wink and went on his way.

He was just doing his job. Beckett was one of the good guys. I knew all of this. Still, every alarm bell in me rang. For ten years, I’d built a wall around myself. I never got too close to anyone. Never trusted. Every new person I met, I wondered if it was someone Sean had sent to find me. Or worse ... one of his enemies. Now that he was ... dead ... I could barely allow myself to think it. It didn’t seem real.

I went on auto-pilot the rest of the day, taking client statements for Ed, getting his reading material ready for tomorrow’s hearings. Darlene swore she’d make him look at all of it. Normally, I’d stick around to make sure. Today, I just didn’t have it in me. I just wanted a quiet night alone, to think.

I owned a little brick bungalow on Magnolia Street, a half a mile from downtown. It was quiet here, the name fit. Pink magnolia trees lined the sidewalk, casting shade during the hottest part of the day. The houses here were built right after WWII, craftsman style, made for couples ready to start new families.

I had three bedrooms, a small kitchen, and dining area. A little porch off the back led to my fenced-in yard. For years, I’d been meaning to remodel, knock out the wall between the kitchen and living room and open up the floor plan like I’d seen done on every home-remodeling show on TV. Someday, maybe I’d get to it.

My furniture had been a hodgepodge of different styles, things I’d picked up at estate sales and discount stores. Even in my decorating, it seemed I couldn’t commit anymore. The house was quiet and dark when I walked in. It’s what I’d wanted, but now it just felt cold and empty. The weight of what Danny told me pressed on me here in the stillness.

I poured myself a glass of wine. Then another. Then a third. Halfway through it, my head spun and I felt the pressure in my chest ease. I did something I hadn’t done in almost ten years. I went to the little wooden box I kept under my bed.

Heading back out into the living room, I set my wine on the table and opened the box. I didn’t know why I kept these little trinkets, of all things. There were the keys to my parents’ house in Port Azrael. I’m ashamed to say I didn’t miss them. I’d grown up in turmoil with two raging alcoholics who took turns physically abusing each other. My mother died of liver failure when I was just nineteen years old, the year after I married Sean. Last I heard, my dad had hitchhiked to Canada chasing after yet another get-rich-quick scheme that would never pan out.

Sean was supposed to be my savior. Instead, he’d ended up my jailer. Still, the keys connected me to something that felt real at times when the ground shifted beneath me. I had a letter from my tenth-grade English teacher, Mrs. Watkins. She’d written me a glowing college recommendation. She was the first adult to truly believe in me. At the very bottom, I kept two framed pictures.

Smoothing away the dust, I picked up the first. It was Sean and me on the day we got married. We stood on the steps of the Port Az courthouse. Eighteen. I’d been just eighteen. The thirteen years since seemed like they could have been a hundred. Sean looked tan and healthy. He held me close, wrapping his arm around my small waist. I wore a pink suit that I’d stolen from my mother’s closet. The sleeves were too long.

I’d loved him then. Sean had been my whole world. I was too young to see through the lies he told. The money came too easy. Flashy cars. Jewelry. He promised me the moon. I would have just settled for stability.

When I lifted the second picture, my heart twisted. It was the three of us. Sean, Danny, and me. We’d gone fishing off the pier. Sean had a trout on the line and swung it toward me, taunting me. He was laughing, but there was a glint in his eye that cut through me. This was later, just a few months before everything turned to dust. Danny stood in the background, leaning against his truck, watching. The smile on his face didn’t reach his eyes. Those were glued to me.

I pressed the picture frame to my chest. Danny held a secret in his eyes. His sin. It should have been my shame. But even now, after so much time had passed, the memory of what we shared still flickered as a tiny flame inside my heart. If I tended to it, that flame would grow. How many nights had I let it engulf me, leaving me gasping for air and my sex thrumming with the echoes of pleasure?

“Damn you, Sean,” I whispered. “Everything you touched turned to dust.”

The wine played a part, I’m sure. Opening the box had been a bad idea as my emotions churned and overtook me. God help me, I missed Sean. Not the man he turned into or revealed himself to be. He’d been cruel, sadistic, dangerous. But the man I thought I’d married. And I missed Danny too at the same time I cursed him for leaving me all alone.

I don’t remember doing it. But before I knew what was happening, I threw the wooden box against the wall. It felt good. Cathartic. I grabbed the picture frame and hurled it as hard as I could. The glass shattered into a million pieces. I felt foolish for a second, but then relief flooded through me. Tears streamed down my face. I picked up the wedding photo and threw that too. It ricocheted, hitting the end table beside me. Glass flew up and stung the corner of my eye.

“Shit!” I yelled. I had a large mirror hanging on the opposite wall. I got a little dizzy as I stood and saw a trickle of blood running down my cheek.

“Great,” I muttered, staggering toward the kitchen. I only made it three steps before the front door burst open and Deacon Wade loomed in front of me, his eyes cold as steel.