CHARLIE FORCED himself to breathe. Annika Benedict and Benito Rodriguez were dead. Miguel was in the hospital. And Lane was right where he wanted her. Next to him. In the hours since they had left the Benedict House, they hadn’t had a moment alone together to discuss his feelings, or hers. It made him nervous. What if she still didn’t believe him? Given the chance, he’d gladly spend the rest of his days proving his love and commitment to her. For as long as it took.
Deputy Benningfield brought in two cups of coffee and a cup of tea as Sheriff Huggins went through another round of questions. Charlie was ready to argue, but Lane refused to go to the hospital for treatment until she had recounted what Annika had said about killing Sydney—proof of Miguel’s innocence.
The dark circles under her eyes, bruised face, and bloodied gash were heart-wrenching reminders of the trauma Lane had just been through and how close he’d come to losing her. He could wait a little longer to take her to the hospital.
“The DEA’s using Annika’s records to track smugglers and dealers across the country and several in the Middle East and Europe.” Sheriff Huggins hitched his thumbs into his gun belt. “Agent Edmonds said this bust is going take millions of dollars of drugs off the streets.”
“Sydney’s death wasn’t for nothing.” Lane’s voice trembled. “What about Miguel? Will he be in trouble?”
Charlie’s desire to wrap his arms around her made it difficult for him to keep his composure. Lane had a beautiful heart for the suffering, even at the cost of her own comfort and life. And Charlie was falling in love with her. But did she feel the same way?
“Annika owned two vehicles. One was a black Lexus with damage on the front passenger side. Forensics was able to pull a sample of Sydney’s blood from the bumper, along with a strand of her hair. As soon as Miguel’s released from the hospital, he’ll be free to return home.”
Charlie shifted. “Actually, after Mr. Benedict’s lawyers arrived at the scene, they mentioned they’d already been considering renaming the Benedict House. It will be called Home for Heroes, and when Miguel’s ready and if he wants it, they’ve promised him a room. Said Noble Benedict would’ve insisted on it for the suffering Annika caused.”
“Thank you.” Tears rimmed her eyes, making them appear even greener than they already were. She sniffed. “I still don’t understand why she had to kill Sydney.”
Sheriff Huggins sighed. “We won’t know the answer for sure until Miguel comes out of surgery, but if what you say is true, we think Sydney learned about Annika’s drug business and stole a painting to prove it. We think she tried to tell Miguel because she trusted him. Mrs. Donovan remembered that Sydney volunteered at the community center and helped with the veterans’ art program. It’s probably where they met.”
“And Annika exploited that relationship,” Charlie added.
“Annika called him a baby killer. Said he killed innocent women and children in Vietnam.”
“Vietnam was a different war. Miguel’s Army unit was involved in a horrific act of violence against a small village. However, Miguel and two other servicemen tried to halt the violence and protect the hiding villagers.” Sheriff Huggins let out a long sigh. “Soldiers come home as heroes nowadays, but not back then. We returned home to humiliation. Were spit on. Called names. Came home as scapegoats for a war no one understood. For Miguel, it was much, much worse. When it was reported what took place in that village, he and the two other soldiers were called traitors. They were shunned and humiliated by the country they swore to protect. After a long investigation into the massacre and a trial, it was determined Miguel acted heroically. Ten or so years ago, they issued him a medal, but it was too late. The damage to his reputation and his mind had already been done.”
“That’s why he kept saying he was protecting her.” Tears streaked down Lane’s face and fell into her lap. “Protecting them.”
Raw emotion choked Charlie. He doubted anyone in Walton knew about the hero who kept himself hidden in the woods. How many others were like Miguel—like Lane—hiding in the shadows of lies, believing they didn’t deserve to live?
“One of the symptoms of PTSD is flashbacks or memory confusion. It’s likely Miguel was confusing Sydney’s death with the deaths of the villagers,” Sheriff Huggins explained.
There was a knock at the door. Deputy Wilson stepped inside Sheriff Huggins’s office. “Sir, Miguel Roa is out of surgery.”
“I’d like to see him.” Lane wiped her face. “I want to be there when he wakes up. Make sure he knows he saved my life.”
“Are you sure you’re up to it?” Sheriff Huggins’s fatherly concern returned. “You’ve been through a lot.”
“Not as much as Miguel has.” Her gaze moved from the sheriff to Charlie. “I just want him to have a friend there.”
“I’ll go with you.” Charlie held his breath. “If that’s okay?”
“I’d like that.”
Lane’s smile reached her eyes and he breathed deeply.
“I can’t tell you how happy Byrdie and I are that you’re okay.” The sheriff came around his desk. He pulled Lane into his arms and hugged her. “I want you to know you saved Miguel’s life too. In more ways than one. Your kindness . . . your ability to see beyond what’s on the outside. I wish there were more of you in this town.”
Lane cleared her throat. “Thanks. Can I have a few minutes with Charlie?”
“Sure.” Sheriff Huggins kissed her forehead and stepped out of his office, closing the door behind him.
Lane’s cheeks turned pink. “I owe you an apology—”
“I do. I owe an apology to a lot of people. I took my life for granted. I saw myself as someone living life without purpose. I felt like a burden to those around me and believed it was better if I wasn’t around.” She slipped her hand into his. “I’m not saying my life won’t be messy, but I’ve decided to live my life on purpose. And I’m hoping you will give me a chance to prove I’m worth the trouble.”
He rubbed his fingers over her hand and up her arm until he tilted her chin. She closed her eyes and he leaned in—
His cell phone rang. He groaned and opened his eyes to find Lane smiling. A quick look revealed the caller’s identity. His father. What was he calling for?
“I’ll wait in the hall.”
“Five minutes.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Then we go.” He watched her leave and then answered the call.
“Charlie, it’s Dad. Your mother told me they found the Walton killer.”
“Yes, sir.” He denied himself the satisfaction of revealing his role in closing the case.
A few beats of silence passed between them. Did his father hang up?
“Did I ever tell you what made me join the Marines?”
Charlie glanced at Lane waiting. He knew she was anxious to get to the hospital, but a trip down memory lane with his father was rare. “No, sir.”
“Your grandfather, my father, was an alcoholic. Moved from job to job, leaving your grandmother and me to fend for ourselves most days.” Charlie’s father let out a ragged sigh—an emotional sound that brought wetness to Charlie’s eyes, forcing him to turn away from Lane as he continued to listen to his father’s story. “I was so terrified I’d follow in his footsteps that I chose the only path I knew wouldn’t allow me to mess up. The Marines told me what to do, when to do it, and how to do it. Signing up back then was a lifetime commitment, but it was the only way I knew how to not be like him.”
“Dad—”
“I’m sorry I missed out on so much, Charlie, but I want you to know I’m proud of you. I’m proud of you for choosing your own way.”
Charlie took a few calming breaths before responding. “Thank you for telling me that.”
His father cleared his throat. “Now, your aunt tells me there’s a girl.”
Lane stood outside Sheriff Huggins’s office, her green eyes beckoning him.
“Lane’s more than a girl. She’s an amazing woman who inspires me to believe I have a purpose here.”
“You believe you made the right decision?”
Charlie went to Lane and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. She rested her head on his shoulder. “I believe it’s the best decision I’ve ever made.”