Page 72

After two months of looking for her, God only knew how angry Briggs was by now. Given the fact he hadn’t given up the hunt and had possibly broken a law to find her, she suspected his rage was probably burning out of control.
Theo grinned widely at her response. “I was hoping you’d agree to that one. Edith isn’t the type to step aside if someone she loves is in danger.”
Gretchen blinked a few times, hating that she was on the verge of crying again. Not because she was sad but because Theo’s happiness at her agreement, paired with his assertion that Edith loved her, was too amazing.
Theo rose. “Let’s go to Edith’s, tell her the plan, and pack you a bag. Then, with your permission, I’d like to invite my entire family over for dinner to let them know what’s going on. I like the idea of having an army at your back.”
Gretchen laughed, even as a tear slid down her cheek. “I like the idea of that too.”
* * *
An hour later, Gretchen made her way downstairs in the Millholland House, after packing a bag and saying goodbye to her beautiful room at Edith’s. She knew it wasn’t forever, but she was still sad to leave the first home where she’d felt welcomed, warm, and safe.
She’d reached the bottom of the stairs when there was a knock on the door. Edith and Theo emerged from the living room, both looking as alarmed as she felt. She drew in a deep breath, steadying herself in case this was it, as Edith went to open the door. Theo, meanwhile, had crossed the foyer to stand partly next to but mostly in front of her.
When she saw Sheriff Anderson standing at the door, her heart started to race. She’d tried to warm up to the man, since making an ass of herself by running to hide in her bedroom the night of her welcome dinner. She and Theo—well, Theo—had chatted with him at the Fall Harvest Festival fair, and then again that same night, at the dance. Gretchen hadn’t contributed much to the conversations, but at least she’d been able to stand her ground.
She had even served him last night at Sam’s victory party, though she’d done little more than take his order, then deliver his beer and pizza.
When the sheriff’s gaze traveled to her, her stomach clenched.
“Edith,” the sheriff said, turning his attention back to the older woman. “Can I come in?”
Edith stepped aside—but uncharacteristically, she didn’t invite him to sit in the living room. She had noticed the sheriff’s interest in Gretchen as well. “What’s this unexpected visit about, Jacob?”
Sheriff Anderson took off his hat and raked fingers through his thinning hair. “Got a call this morning from a police officer in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. He was asking me about a Gretchen Parker,” the sheriff said, looking straight at Gretchen. “Your last name is Banks, right?”
Gretchen nodded, her throat closing.
“As I recall, you’re from Harrisburg.”
“I am,” she replied, her voice too weak to hide her unease.
“What did he want?” Theo asked.
While Sheriff Anderson was answering Theo, his gaze was locked on her. “Said he was looking for a mentally unstable woman who’d gone missing a couple months ago. Mentioned she’d gone off her meds and her family was worried about her.”
“Bullshit!” Theo cursed. “What was the cop’s name?”
Sheriff Anderson pulled a small notebook from his back pocket, flipping through the pages before responding. “Briggs Howard.”
“He’s her ex,” Theo said. “And an abusive prick.”
Sheriff Anderson’s eyes narrowed slightly. “He’s not a cop?”
“He is.” Gretchen forced herself to enter the conversation. This was her fight, not Theo’s. Jesus. If she couldn’t stand up to a sixty-year-old sheriff, what chance did she have against Briggs? “We were together for six years. He… He wasn’t a nice guy.”
“Is he dangerous?”
“Only to me,” Gretchen replied, hoping that remained to be true. She’d die if anything bad happened to Edith, Manny, or the Storms because of her.
The sheriff shoved his notebook back in his pocket. “So your family isn’t looking for you?”
Gretchen shook her head. “I’m estranged from my mother and stepfather. My brother is stationed overseas with the Navy SEALs. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know I’m not still living in Harrisburg.”
Sheriff Anderson nodded. “And the medication? The mental instability.”
Gretchen stepped out from behind Theo, tired of hovering in the background of her own life. “I tried to leave him several times,” she said to the sheriff. “Once, after a particularly bad beating, I stole money from his wallet after he fell asleep—because he never let me carry cash—and got a cab to the bus station. I didn’t bother with luggage or even a coat, too afraid he’d wake up and catch me.