Around 11:45.
Beth exhaled heavily as she finally exited the Police Station; she and Shane paused near her car. She pointed to the combined trunk hatch, which held the overnighter and most of its contents. The diary was still in the McCabes’ vehicle. “You got any particular plans for all that stuff from the dumpster?”
“Hadn’t had much time to think about plans.” Shane scratched his head. “But it’s been with me for a long time.”
Beth lightly placed a hand on his battered mid-section. “If Sergeant Travis is right about that update, Lynette’s granddaughter—Helana—is still alive. She’s a direct descendant... maybe the only one.”
“So what are you thinking?”
“Those mementoes don’t belong up on a dusty shelf in a crowded garage or storage room.” Beth leaned into his left side.
“You’re probably thinking I should pack it all up and send it to the granddaughter.”
Beth smiled and hugged him gently.
“Well, I guess that’s where it belongs.” Shane’s eyes focused on the overnighter. “I’ve actually just been the custodian all these years.”
“The protector.” She rose up on her toes and kissed his injured cheek. “Like a valiant knight.”
“Once we send that away, there’s no trace of those dumpster divers anymore.”
Beth closed her eyes tightly and took rapid inventory. “Except my lovely chestnut bookcase... but that doesn’t remind me of them. Only of you.”
Shane leaned over and kissed her forehead. It surely hurt his cut lips, but he didn’t appear to mind.
They got into her vehicle and Shane drove to the town square, about a mile east. After he’d parked, both looked up at the moon, finally visible after the prolonged passage of that horrible storm front.
Neither spoke for several moments.
“I keep wishing I’d stayed over at your place on Sunday night. Then Ricks wouldn’t—”
“I know.” Beth’s hand touched his knee. “But, hey, it could’ve been worse... a lot worse. At least he didn’t...” Her voice caught in her throat. Beth’s hands clutched the torn parts of her sweatshirt and nightgown, visible because the borrowed sweater was not buttoned.
When Shane’s upper body turned toward her, she could see the long bandaging on his left upper shoulder. Arnie’s handiwork. It looked like wound material for a burn victim. “Coming up there... you could’ve been killed. By either one of them.”
“Despite everything that’s truly skunk-rotten about Ricks... I don’t think he’s a killer. Not of people anyway.”
“But he sure enjoyed inflicting pain... punishment.”
“Some people do.” Shane patted her hand, still on his knee. “Ricks needs a roomful of shrinks and a long, extreme detox. ‘Course after he’s been everybody’s girlfriend for a few years in prison, he’ll be even more screwed up.”
Beth shuddered at that image. “But Kaser—or whoever he is—would’ve killed both of us.”
“Absolutely. And likely would’ve enjoyed it, for practice.” Shane hunched forward and peered at the moon again. “You know, it’s practically a miracle that we kept Kaser talking long enough. Also, he was distracted by the storm... or something. Usually a pro like that is pretty focused on the assignment.”
“Well, he did say it was the final step of his job. So maybe he just wanted to savor it.”
“I think his timing was off... and it threw him.”
That didn’t make sense to Beth, but she didn’t care. “Back there, in the hotel room, you had such cold eyes.”
“It was too dark. You couldn’t have seen my eyes.”
“But I did. And it scared me because I knew you’d kill those guys.” Beth paused. “But it was also reassuring... for the same reason.”
Shane didn’t speak for a moment. “Are my eyes cold now?”
“No...” She peered closely. “In fact, they look incredibly warm.”
He smiled. “A mountain lion has cold eyes when it’s hunting... or fighting.” He reached for her hand and pulled it toward his mouth.
“Is this particular lion going to eat me?”
“Maybe later.” Shane grinned again and kissed her fingertips.
“Hmm. You look very hungry. What are you hunting now?”
“You.” Shane kissed her deeply, despite his pain.
Those kisses brought back memories but Beth interrupted them. “Shane, have you been with... anybody else?”
He was silent for another moment. “You already know about Sophia.”
Beth also knew there had been several women before Sophia. “No, I mean since we... since I moved here.”
Many men would have deflected such a question. Some may have made a light-hearted reply. Perhaps a few would have become defensive or even slightly angry. But Shane looked deeply into her eyes and didn’t blink. “There were plenty of girls around...”
Beth’s throat felt tight. Yeah, at the biker bar and the Harley shop.
“... but it was always the wrong timing.” He smiled. “And never the right woman.”
Tears fell down her bruised cheeks and she hugged him, trying not to touch his cut arm, gouged shoulder, or bruised sternum. “You waited for me?”
Though he groaned in pain as they hugged tightly, he held their embrace for several silent moments. “Anybody I need to know about?”
Beth searched her mind for the right image. “Well, some guys tried to crowd the plate a few times.” She grinned. “But I brushed ‘em back.”
“Guess I taught you well.” Shane shifted in his seat. “Beautiful woman... new to a small town—you must have had lots of uh, chances. Might’ve been some you didn’t want to brush back. Why?”
She kissed him deeply again. “I was waiting on you to drag that old Harley a couple thousand miles... and come rescue me.”
“Don’t you like my new Harley?”
“Yeah... for the highway. But for short rides, I’d still prefer the shovel head.”
Shane’s eyes, visible in the moonlight, warmed. “Let’s go home, Bethany.”
“Which home?”
“My home’s wherever you are.”
“Uh, how—?” Beth could imagine his brain flooded by calculating the logistics of selling, packing, moving, finding a job, et cetera.
Shane seemed to read her thoughts. “For three cases of beer, my cousin Stan will help with everything... and he’s got an enclosed trailer that could haul Sherman tanks.”
“What about the house on Pine Avenue?”
“For a dozen cases of beer, Cousin Stan will stay on long enough to get it sold.”
“He must love his beer.”
“We’re closer cousins than brothers could be.”
“Shane, would you do the same for him?”
“Would’ve three weeks ago.” Shane grinned and started the Shadow’s engine. “But not now.”
“How come?”
“I found you again, Bethany... way over here in Verde-town.”
Beth lightly stroked the bruised and cut knuckles of his right hand. “You’d really leave Long Beach... after all those years?”
“This little burg grows on you. Besides, Doc said Nashville has lots of chopper shops.”
“But there’s so much to do,” Beth sputtered slightly. “Too much to think about...”
“Stop thinking.” Shane embraced her. “It’s all good.”
Beth held him firmly. Blood oozed from the bandaged wound just above his elbow, he felt damp from rain and sweat, and Shane could definitely use some mouthwash. But at that moment Beth couldn’t fathom how she’d endured three long years apart from her protector.
Yeah... it’s all good.