CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Is there anything left that needs to be done?”
Brynn would have named at least a dozen other chores if it meant delaying the inevitable. She wasn’t ready to be alone after tonight’s events. Still, she told Lance the truth.
“No, I think that’s it for now.” Brynn left the softer lights on overhead the counter of the bar like she did every night before walking around to join Lance. His gaze had been drawn to the back entrance down past where the restrooms and her office were located in the hallway. She didn’t like that she questioned whether or not the door was locked. She’d already checked it twice, right? “I appreciate you staying so late, but you really should get back to your place. I know you wanted to stay out there to prevent another break-in. After what’s happened recently, that’s not such a bad idea.”
Brynn didn’t question the fact that Lance was properly armed for such a confrontation. She knew he carried a sidearm for close-in-point targets and had borrowed his father’s coach gun for area targets out to twenty yards. He’d been in the military for twelve years, was well trained in the practice of using firearms, and certainly had the tactical ground fighting skills necessary to handle himself in such situations.
“We’re past break-ins, though, aren’t we?” Lance ran a hand through his short black hair in frustration, shaking his head in self-recrimination. “I feel responsible somehow.”
“You’re not, and you know better,” Brynn argued, fully believing that the discovery of those pictures wouldn’t have prevented Whitney’s disappearance. “You were seventeen years old when Emma went missing, and not even anywhere around here at the time Sophia was murdered. Deputy Wallace was killed in cold blood while guarding a crime scene, leaving behind a family who loved him. There was nothing you could do about any of that, just as there was nothing you could have done to stop Whitney from being abducted. There’s only one person to blame for all of this, and he’s the one who took Whitney Bell.”
“You’re assuming it’s a man.” Lance finally gave Brynn his attention. “Something tells me you’re right about that, but we shouldn’t assume anything until we have more facts in the case. Noah called me a bit ago and said that the police are canvassing the surrounding area, but they are asking that the residents stay close to home.”
“Did Noah say why the law enforcement agencies don’t want the additional help? I would think Detective Kendrick would take all the assistance he could get.”
Sheriff Percy was currently on suspension, and word had it that he was about to turn in his resignation. That left only three local deputies on the payroll. The town was shorthanded as far as their law enforcement officers went, so she found it strange that such a mandate regarding help wouldn’t be issued. Blyth Lake was a small community where everyone watched out for everyone else, regardless of hard feelings or feuds passed down from one generation to the next.
“I heard from Harlan there were blood stains found inside the Bell residence that indicated Whitney was in some type of altercation. He and Miles drove to Jeremy’s house to see if he needed anything. It was by sheer happenstance that Jeremy decided to go home after eating at the diner instead of coming straight here. Poor guy.” Lance shook his head at the chain of events. He then went down the road she’d already tried to block off in her mind. “Whitney’s photograph was in that stack of pictures, Brynn. What if whoever took them is going back for the ones who either got away or this sick fuck never had a chance to take?”
“Did you recognize anyone else?” Brynn was almost afraid of his answer, because she’d been at that year’s summer camp, as well as Emma, Sophia, and Whitney. “Maybe Detective Kendrick will provide them with twenty-four-seven protection.”
“I don’t think there was anyone else included who we knew, but Sophia’s body being found has obviously set this guy off. This son of a bitch seems focused on Blyth Lake, which is why I’d feel better if you were to come home with me tonight.”
“What?” Brynn hadn’t meant to blurt out the question as if she’d been offended by his request. She tried to cover her surprise. There was no indication that she was in harm’s way. “No, no, no. I’m good here, and besides, my picture wasn’t included in that tin box you found. I have nothing to worry about. I can take care of myself, you know.”
Right? Brynn hadn’t once been frightened about her wellbeing in regard to whoever had killed Sophia. There had been no reason for her to fear someone who was partial to teenage girls. Now that a full-grown woman had been taken, Brynn was second guessing herself.
Lance surprised her when he stepped forward and took her into his arms. She instinctively stepped into his embrace, regretting her response almost immediately. Being with him now made it seem as if all those years they’d been apart hadn’t existed at all.
But they did. He’d caused her a great deal of loneliness and pain.
They were different people than the teenagers they’d been in high school. She’d always had confidence in the life she’d planned for herself, and even more so now that the bar was her own to operate. Blyth Lake had always been her home, Tiny and Rose were her family, and the residents were just an extension of that relationship.
Lance coming back as if he’d never left was playing hell on her psyche.
Couldn’t he see that they couldn’t just pick up where they left off?
They couldn’t simply fall back into love, could they?
“This isn’t the homecoming I was expecting when I drove into town earlier this week. Everyone is looking at everyone else with suspicion, tensions are high, and unfounded conclusions are being drawn against completely innocent people,” Lance murmured against her hair, his right hand stroking her back while his left held her close. “I heard what you threatened to do to Charlene Winston if she wrote an article about my family. It’s nice to know you still have my six, blondie.”
Brynn couldn’t help but smile as she rested her cheek against his chest, but her grin slowly faded. She’d always had his back, just as she fully believed he had hers in an abstract sense.
“Lance, we have nothing to do with this investigation,” Brynn pressed, though she wasn’t willing to give up this comfort just yet. The last two months had brought up some very emotional memories. She recalled how he’d held onto her back then, too. “The only thing we can do is offer our moral support to Jeremy, just as we did with the Irwins back when Emma disappeared. I’m completely safe here. Honest.”
“Like it or not, I became part of the investigation the moment my brother found that body. I trust that Detective Kendrick can do his job, but that doesn’t mean we can’t take precautions. Whitney was taken right out of her father’s house, from what I’m hearing. I don’t think I can go back to my place knowing full well you’re here all alone.” Lance pressed a kiss to the top of her head before pulling far enough away that he was able to take her face into the palms of his hands. “My living room and bedroom furniture were delivered to the house this afternoon. You can take my bed while I sleep on the couch, but at least you’ll be close so I don’t have to worry about you tonight. You don’t want to be the reason I’m sleep deprived, do you? What if I electrocute myself doing the rewiring of my basement? Who would know for at least a week?”
Leave it to Lance to lay guilt at her feet over something she had every confidence wouldn’t happen even if he’d gone three days without sleep. The problem was looking into those warm blue eyes and turning down the offer of his bed. Did he really think that the two of them together—alone—under the same roof was a good idea while they were reestablishing a fledgling relationship as friends?
She came very close to saying that she was the one who would need to worry about electricity, but she managed to paste a sweet smile on her face as she slowly stepped away.
They were both grown adults.
Brynn had proven that she had her head on her shoulders and could make sound decisions all on her own.
There was no reason she shouldn’t sleep in her own bed tonight. Why then, after going through such a relatively rational checklist, did a reply the total opposite of what her mind had composed come off her lips?
“Let me grab a change of clothes and some personal items.”
*
Lance didn’t bother to suppress his groan as he shifted awkwardly on the couch cushions, trying his best to find a comfortable position that would lull him to sleep.
He had zero luck in that department and wondered what the hell he’d been drinking when he’d bought this damn leather living room set in the first place. It might look nice, but this crap was uncomfortable as hell. Granted, he’d had the same stupid furniture for close to six or seven years and the leather did wear well. That wasn’t going to stop him from driving into the city in the near future and hitting up one of those all-inclusive furniture stores for a microfiber living room set or maybe a La-Z-Boy that he could take a snooze in. This junk was getting relegated to the basement. He had a specific taste he’d grown into, and it wouldn’t take long for him to choose the correct furniture.
He and his dad would design and create the wooden pieces anyway, so all he really needed were couches and chairs to complement the warm earth-tone autumn color scheme floating around in his mind.
There were other things he was definitely thinking about—or a specific someone who was currently upstairs lying in his king-sized bed—but designing his house was a safer concept to contemplate at the moment.
The sound of something or someone banging into something reverberated through the house, followed by string of muffled high-pitched curse words. He couldn’t help but smile at her language that would even stun the men he’d served with in the Marines. It was more than apparent she’d picked up some of those interesting combinations while working at the bar, but she was able to embellish them in a manner that suited her personality.
What the hell was she doing awake anyway?
Lance shifted until he was lying flat on his back, listening closely to the sound of her movements. All of those floorboards upstairs needed to be tightened down. From the swish of her subdued footsteps, he gathered she’d made her way into the hallway and was slowly making her way down the stairs.
“Okay,” Brynn exclaimed as she announced herself in the doorway with a bit of frustration. The moonlight streaming in through the windows cast a beam on her white t-shirt and lime green shorts, highlighting her feminine shape that had filled out nicely since their high school years. The maturity only made her more attractive, and he had to clench his hands into fists to prevent himself from reaching for her. “Did you know that the large oak tree out back needs to be trimmed? There are a few branches that keep hitting the window. Seriously, I’m surprised the glass hasn’t cracked yet. It’s impossible to sleep here. It’s going on five o’clock in the morning and nothing has happened, so I suggest we climb into your truck and head back into town. You can crash at my place. At least there, the ghost of Christmas past isn’t knocking on the side of the house.”
“Driving back into town would only cut into our sleep time, and as it stands, we’re only slated to get four hours at best. I have a delivery of hardwood flooring scheduled at zero nine hundred.” Lance shifted onto his side after tossing back the thin blanket he’d grabbed out of one of the boxes that he’d gotten from Dad’s place. He patted the cushion, knowing full well she could see his gesture in the moonlight. He’d have to add blinds and curtains to his ever-growing list. “Come here, blondie.”
Brynn crossed her arms and stood her ground. She’d piled her blonde hair on top of her head in some type of scrunchy. He recalled she was constantly losing them back in the day. He also remembered taking them out quite often and launching them across the bench seat of his truck while they were tangled together in a moment of passion.
“Do you remember the pact we made about always being honest with one another?”
Where was she going with this? Brynn had stayed far away from mentioning the night they’d each brought up their plans for the future. It had been one of the toughest, stripped-down emotionally conversations he’d ever had in his life. He’d bared his soul to her, and she to him. In the end, they’d still taken their own separate paths.
“Yeah,” Lance murmured, leaning up on his elbow and resting his head in his hand. “I do.”
Lance hadn’t been sure which direction she was taking this conversation, but he should have known she’d thrash him around until he got whiplash.
It was part of the reason he still loved her.
“We both know we’re having sex if I crawl onto that couch with you,” Brynn stated matter-of-factly, though she almost sounded out of breath by the time she’d finished her proclamation. “Are you ready for that and what comes with it?”