Page 31

There was no siren wailing in Augusta’s police car, but Savannah heard the ghostly shriek in her head as she sat in the back of the vehicle. Even wrapped in Hez’s arms, she was cold, so cold. How did she adjust to life without her sister? A thousand memories churned in her head: teaching Jess to swim, helping her pick out a dress for her first dance, staying up late cramming for Spanish class.

Where did it all go wrong? When had that smiling little girl turned into the woman consumed with revenge? If Savannah could go back in time to the moment it had started, maybe she could have stopped it. But life wasn’t like that. One wrong step led to the next and the next until there seemed to be no way of turning around. If only she had one more day to change what had happened.

Hez pressed his lips against the side of her hair. “We’re here, babe. Augusta has been waiting a few minutes, so we’d better let her get back to work.”

Augusta turned toward them from the front seat. “Take your time. I’m so sorry, Savannah.”

Her warm brown eyes held a wealth of sympathy.

Savannah blinked. She hadn’t realized the car had stopped. She lifted her head and saw Jess’s mansion. Jess had been so proud of her home and how beautiful she’d made it. She’d never brew coffee in that beautiful kitchen again, would never tend the flower bed or watch the leaves shimmer in the wind. Fresh tears sprang to Savannah’s eyes, but she blinked them back. She had to be strong for Simon.

She opened her door. “Thanks for delivering us, Augusta.”

“It was the least I could do. I’ll let you know when we’re sure your car hasn’t been sabotaged in any way.”

Savannah nodded and stepped out onto the pavement. The police car pulled away, and she clung to Hez’s hand to walk to the house. The scent of Jess’s roses was the stench of death, and Savannah decided in that instant that she didn’t want any roses at the funeral. She shuddered at how familiar this all was. It had been just like this when Ella died. The sirens with their flashing lights and the grim paramedics who moved with methodical precision instead of the urgency she felt inside. That thick fog of grief and shock blurring everything was the strongest déjà vu she’d ever experienced. She’d never thought to be in a place like this again.

The door opened, and Simon dashed out as she and Hez approached. His blue eyes widened as he took in her appearance. “You were in an accident and that’s why the police brought you home?”

Savannah glanced down at her bloody clothing. She should have stopped to change. This would be a picture in his head he’d never forget. She wet her lips. “I—I don’t know how to tell you, Simon. Your mother was in a terrible accident. Sh-she didn’t make it.”

Her voice wobbled, and she bit down on her lip to keep the sobs in.

She opened her arms, but he froze on the sidewalk and stared at her. She waited for him to speak, but he continued to stand with his arms hanging at his sides. The boy had only her and Hez now. Tears welled again, and this time she couldn’t stop them. She took two steps and folded him in her arms, but he still said nothing and his arms didn’t lift to hug her back.

Finally movement started in the form of trembling that shook him from his shoulders to his knees. “M-Mom.”

Hez came alongside them and put his arms around both of them. “We’re here, Simon. We won’t leave you.”

Savannah spoke against the side of his face. “I promised your mom I’d take care of you, and I will. Your uncle Hez and I love you very much, and we’ll get through this together somehow.”

She pressed her lips against his hair and inhaled the aroma of boy.

“Mom,”

he whispered. The word held a fountain of grief he couldn’t release yet.

Savannah’s geyser of tears felt unstoppable. Only God could get them through this, and she knew he would. He’d proven his steadfastness when she lost Ella, and she clung to the knowledge that he would help them now.

* * *

Hez woke to the aroma of fresh coffee. He lifted his head off Savannah’s sofa—and instantly regretted it. He’d fallen asleep with her curled up against him, exhausted from grief. He’d been in an awkward half-sitting position when her ragged breathing finally gave way to soft snores, and he hadn’t wanted to wake her by moving. Sleep had taken him a few minutes later, and he’d apparently slept through the entire night without changing position.

He levered himself into a sitting position and then stood, discovering a dozen more cramped muscles in the process. Pins and needles shot through his numb right foot as he staggered into the kitchen, lurching like a zombie from an old horror movie.

Savannah turned toward him as he entered. She gave him a warm smile, but her eyes were red and puffy. “You look like a man who could use some coffee.”

She poured him a mug, which he gratefully accepted. “Very astute observation.”

He took a long sip, savoring the smooth taste and rich smell. “Aah. Captain Davy’s?”

“Of course. Sleep well?”

“Yeah.”

He rubbed his neck. “Waking up was the problem.”

“Me too. I dreamed about our wedding, and then I woke up and realized Jess wouldn’t be my maid of honor.”

Tears pooled in her eyes.

He put down his mug and took her in his arms. “I know, babe. Those ‘oh, yeah’ moments are the worst. They always got me with Ella too. I’d see a butterfly or a puppy and I’d be about to point it out—until I remembered. Just last month, I found a Cheerio under the passenger seat of my car, and it hit me all over again.”

“Your car . . .”

Her voice dissolved into sobs, and she buried her face in his chest. He kissed the top of her head and held her.

He wasn’t going to make the same mistake he made after Ella had died. He and Savannah should have experienced the pain together, talked it through, held each other, taken long walks, packed up Ella’s toys together, and so on. Instead, he hid from his guilt and grief by burying himself in work and numbing the agony with booze and pills. The woman in his arms deserved—needed—so much more.

Her breathing became even, and then she suddenly tensed. She looked up at him. “Your car. Were they trying to kill you?”

“Maybe.”

He released her and picked up his mug. “I talked to Hope last night while you were with Simon. She’s not sure who the target was. It might have been me. The bomb was in my car, after all. But I’m not driving, which the killer would have known if I was being watched. I let Jess borrow my car after her tires were slashed, and the killer might have seen her driving it. So she might have been the target all along. Hope thought it might even have been you.”

Savannah’s eyes widened. “Me? Why would they put a bomb in your car to kill me?”

He took a sip of his now-lukewarm brew. “Because your car was in the president’s reserved spot, which is right next to the building and in clear view of a security camera, while I park with the rabble in the staff lot.”

Savannah’s lips twitched with the ghost of a smile. “That’s right. Ellison Abernathy’s Cadillac got keyed two years ago, allegedly by a female adjunct professor whose contract wasn’t renewed after she rejected his advances. He was furious and insisted that his car be kept safe from ‘terrorists and vandals’ in the future. So he got a special spot and a new security camera. But that doesn’t explain why the killer would think I’d be driving your car.”

“Unless the killer realized I wouldn’t be driving it and that we probably wouldn’t just leave it sitting in the staff lot for three months. There was a good chance you’d eventually drive it over to my condo, where it would be out of the elements.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

A crease appeared between her brows. “Are we safe here?”

He shook his head. “Probably not. Did you notice the police car outside?”

“No.”

She stepped to the kitchen window and scanned the street. “Has it been there all night?”

“Yep.”

He finished his mug and poured a fresh one. “Hope sent them. State police, since we still have to worry about the mole in the Pelican Harbor department.”

“How long are they going to stay?”

“Hope didn’t say, but they can’t be our personal security indefinitely. This isn’t a permanent solution.”

“Should I get a new security system?”

“You could, but there’s only so much you can do here.”

He swept his hand in a wide arc that encompassed her cozy little cottage. “You’ve got a ground-level stand-alone house with two doors, windows in every room, and outside parking.”

“What do you suggest?”

He cleared his throat. “You’d be much safer someplace like, well, my condo. Jane is getting the locks changed as we speak, it already has good security, and your car would be in a locked garage that’s hooked into the building security system. Plus, it’s on one of the main streets with a regular police presence.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind us barging into your small space before you’re ready? I’ll have Simon too. And my dog. It will be a very full condo.”

He smiled and pulled her close again. “I’d love it, to be honest. I’ve been counting down the days until the wedding anyway. I miss having you around—finding you in the kitchen first thing in the morning, talking over sweet tea at the end of the day, and all the little moments in between. It’ll be great to have Simon too. He’s a terrific kid, and he gives me an excuse to play my old video games.”

She nuzzled against him. “I’ve missed it too.”