Page 113 of Rescued Dreams

God had shown up for her when she’d needed Him most. In her darkest hour, as they said. She figured that meant it was time to really figure out what this Christianity thing was all about. Learn more. Claim it for herself.

God was real. It had taken her long enough to figure that out. She had no time to lose now.

“Thanks.” Izan scrunched up his nose, but he looked relieved. “You’ll always be my lieutenant, Patterson. That’s just the way it is.”

She smiled.

“Okay.” Macon elbowed through everyone else. “All of you clear out. Give Amelia some space.”

Izan squeezed her shoulder and followed the others back into the hallway.

Chief James came over to the side of the bed. “How’s your head?”

“It’ll be good by the time I come back to work.”

Ordinarily, she would have dismissed the injury for the sake of not being put on medical leave until she was healed up. Right now, she figured that wasn’t what he was asking for. He wanted honesty. Besides, she was barely the same person who’d been called to his office and asked where her paperwork was.

She’d faced her greatest nightmare and lived to tell about it.

“What happened to Nicholas? And Cherry?” With Ridge beside her and everyone out of the house, she had barely paid attention to what was happening around her.

“Both in custody.” Macon stood at the foot of the bed. “They’re trying to figure out how Cherry got tangled up with him and whether he is actually the father of her baby.”

Amelia shook her head. “She was convincing. But at the end of the day, he wanted my father’s money just like everyone else. And he was going to kill me, probably horrifically, out of revenge.”

Macon’s expression darkened. “He isn’t going to hurt you anymore.”

Amelia figured a good therapist could help her unpack all this. It would take time, but good things—and healing—usually did. Rushing it wasn’t going to get her anywhere but back on her face, trying to figure out what to do with her life. She still wanted to sell the big house and ensure all her father’s properties were offloaded. That might mean legally claiming her heritage, but it was a means to an end.

Like donating the house to a local women’s shelter or a foster kids’ organization so they could have bigger facilities.

Zack’s wife Naya might be able to help her work out something that would benefit the local community.

“Nicholas is never going to get out of prison. Not for several lifetimes.” Macon looked like he wanted to punch something.

“Good.”

He nodded. “They already started looking through the rubble. Starting in a section that didn’t collapse. They found a lot of evidence in the debris, surveillance photos of you. Equipment for bombs and explosives. He had all kinds of sick things planned.”

“Seemed like he was constantly evolving the plan depending on what happened.”

“He’s not some criminal mastermind. Just a guy with far too much time on his hands and a sick obsession.” Macon folded his arms across his chest. “But he’s behind bars now, and he won’t get bail if the cops have anything to say about it.”

“I’ll probably have to testify.”

“If you do,” he said, “I guarantee there will be a row of firefighters in the gallery to support you. You aren’t going to have to face him alone.”

She nodded, sniffing back more tears.

“Elam is behind bars. Who knows what the district attorney is going to do about your father’s money in those accounts.”

“Nicholas thought he could get me to sign it all over to him.” Her mind was still reeling from everything that had happened.

“He also nearly killed you in the training house, strangling you with his bare hands.”

If he’d been after the money the whole time, he probably hadn’t planned to go so far as to kill her. He’d just wanted her weak and off shift so he could enact his plan.

Macon reached out and patted her foot under the blanket. “Get some rest. Get better. I’ll see you back at work when you’re ready, and not before. And I expect you to pass that lieutenant’s exam after that, when you’re back up to speed. Get your rank back, Patterson.”