Two days later, Harper felt like she was about the climb the walls. Everyone had been wonderful, pampering her and treating her like she was a member of the family. Rafe secretly admitted his mother was having a ball having another woman in the house to spoil, and while she didn’t mind indulging the wonderful woman, she wasn’t used to having somebody taking care of her. She’d lived on her own for far too long.
Nobody in Shiloh Springs knew her life before moving here. They had no idea when she’d first run away from home, she’d been homeless, living on the streets. Barely seventeen, terrified and naïve to the real world, it had still been better than what she’d left behind. For months, she’d moved around, never staying too long in any one place for fear of being caught and forced to return to Bigelow. If she was lucky, nobody from Louisiana would bother looking for her, and they would never believe her capable or smart enough to leave the state, much less come to Texas.
Pushing against the porch with her foot, the swing rocked back and forth. Kind of like her mood. Being here at the Big House made her happy. She loved the Boudreaus, even if they were sticking their noses into her business. They did it because they cared. Just the thought brought tears to her eyes. How long had it been since anybody cared for the skinny mouse who jumped at her own shadows?
But the opposite end of the pendulum was as scary as the Boudreaus were sweet. Somebody had killed five people and done their best to frame her. Chance’s photo expert confirmed what they’d suspected. The woman in the picture wore a blonde wig with purple highlights, curled and styled to mimic Harper’s look and style. He’d claimed the face hadn’t been manipulated, which meant there was somebody out there who looked enough like Harper to be her twin.
Brian had spent the last two days traveling between town and the Big House, working with Rafe, Chance, and Antonio. They all swore they’d figure out the connection between the five victims and Bigelow. It was too big a coincidence to think they’d been in or around her hometown and years later ended up dead. Even though she hated thinking about that life, the one she’d left behind, there was no escaping the facts. She had to remember, dig up all the agony and torment she’d spend the last thirteen years burying.
At the sound of an engine, she looked up, spotting Brian’s car pulling up the drive. He’d been gone when she woke up, and she’d oddly felt bereft without him being there.
He climbed the final step to the porch and crossed it, flopping onto the swing beside her, causing it to rock harder. There were shadows beneath his eyes, and she knew he hadn’t been sleeping well. Ms. Patti even commented she’d heard him pacing the floor in his bedroom. Guilt flooded her because she knew she was to blame for his sleepless nights.
“How’re you doing this morning, Harper?”
“Okay, except I’m going stir crazy. Everybody’s been great, especially Ms. Patti and Douglas, but I can’t stay here much longer. Rafe said my apartment’s been cleared by the evidence team, and the wall has been painted. I can move back any time.”
“About that…”
“What? Did they find something in their search? Nobody mentioned anything to me.”
Brian reached into his shirt pocket and pulled a photograph free, hesitating before finally handing it to her. It was a young boy, maybe nine or ten years old. Raggedy red hair hung over his ears, and he had the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. He grinned at the camera and held up two fingers in a peace sign. Behind him, water glistened in the background, sun shining like it was a brilliant summer day. He was shirtless, his scrawny chest showing the ribs, as if she could run her fingers across it, counting each one. Cut off jean shorts showed the straggly white threads hanging from the bottom edge, and his feet were bare.
“Do you recognize him?”
She shook her head, running her fingertip across the photo. “No, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him before.”
“Look on the back.”
Turning over the picture, her blood ran cold. Written in bold black print, the words distinct and chilling.
Five down, one to go.
“Where’d you get this?” Bile rose in the back of her throat at the thought the killer had somehow sent this picture. Thought she would recognize the importance of the boy in the photo, or the veiled threat the evocative words suggested.
“Chrissy found it in your apartment after we left. It was stuck to the back of the frame of one of the paintings under the sofa. And before you ask, no, there aren’t any fingerprints on it.”
“You know what’s eerie? This looks like my handwriting. At first, I thought it was, but I don’t remember ever seeing this picture before, so how is that possible?”
“I don’t know, hon, but it’s one more strike against whoever is trying to set you up. We’re trying to keep the pressure up on them, hoping they get careless or make a mistake.”
They haven’t so far, Harper thought. All they’ve done is make me look like the biggest serial killer since Ted Bundy.
“What do Rafe and Chance think about the picture?”
“They are running facial recognition on the kid, trying to see if they can get a hit. Gage is having a CIA buddy check too. We figure out who the kid is, we can maybe tie him to whoever is really killing people from Louisiana.” Brian stretched his arm along the back of the swing, his fingers lightly brushing against her shoulder. The morning had been muggy and warm, so she’d tossed on a tank top and jeans, leaving her shoulders and arms bare. With each touch, she felt a tingling rush inside, liking the sensation of his skin against hers.
“I’m going crazy. Want to go for a walk? If you don’t have to head back to town right away, that is?”
Brian stood and held out his hand, and she placed hers into his. They headed down the porch steps, and she started to go right but he stopped her, pointing to the left. “Let’s go this way. There’s something there I think you’ll love. Ms. Patti showed it to me on one of my visits.”
Trusting him, she allowed him to lead the way, smiling when he kept her hand in his. She didn’t mind. In fact, it seemed kind of nice, being able to do something so simple. So normal.
“Be honest with me, Brian. If we can’t find anything soon to clear my name, am I going to be arrested?”
“I wish I could say no. But I’m not a local cop. Each of the local jurisdictions are investigating the homicides. Right now, the FBI is assisting in the investigations, because there are multiple deaths in multiple states. Because there is a strong belief this is a serial killer, the Feds take priority. But if one of the local homicides has enough evidence to take to a grand jury and indict, I honestly don’t know. But we’re all doing everything we can to keep that from happening, Harper. You’ve got a lot of people in your corner, working to prove your innocence. The best way is to find the actual killer and stop them before they strike again.”
“And nobody has a clue who it could be.”
“My gut’s telling me it all ties back to Louisiana. We need to head to Bigelow, ask a few questions.”
The bottom of Harper’s world fell, because she knew the minute he stepped foot in Bigelow, he’d find out the truth about her. He’d walk away. And she wouldn’t blame him if he did.
“I’ll go with you.”
Oh, no! Did I really say that? It’s finally happened, I’ve lost my mind because I swore I’d never set foot in Bigelow, Louisiana, again.
“You’d do that, sweetheart? I know you don’t like to talk about your hometown.”
Looking down at their clasped hands, feeling the connection to Brian, one she’d never thought she’d have, she knew it was time to stop running. Face the demon in the closet, the boogeyman who’d lived right over her shoulder for half her lifetime. If she didn’t do this, face up to her fears—nightmares—she might lose everything. And for the first time, she had something she didn’t want to lose.
Brian.
“When do you want to go?”
“If you’re willing, I’d like to leave in the morning. The faster we head there, the faster we’ll get answers.”
Twenty-four hours. Really less. She could do it. Would do it. Finally face the devil and pray at the end of the day she wouldn’t find herself alone.
“Let’s do it.”
Brian could barely contain the pride he felt at Harper’s bravery. He’d read her juvenile file. Knew going back to Bigelow would bring back memories she’d done her best to put behind her. Yet she wanted to help catch whoever had killed five people before they struck again.
And they would strike again if the note on the photograph was any indication. The wording made him think the murders weren’t random but were essentially vendetta-style killings. Someone righting a perceived wrong and holding six people responsible. Was it something to do with the kid in the picture? Figuring out who he was had taken top priority and Gage, Antonio, Chance, even Shiloh and Ridge were digging, trying to identify the red-headed kid.
Looking up, he realized they’d almost reached the destination he’d set out for when they started their walk. On his last visit to the Big House, Ms. Patti had brought him out here, showed him her magical place. Her secret garden, overflowing with flowers and vines and surrounded by trees. The gazebo in the center of the small clearing should have surprised him, but on seeing it, he realized it was the perfect oasis for the wonderful woman. She gave so much to others, raised a house full of rowdy boys which wasn’t an easy task of the best of days, and she deserved a quiet place of solitude and peace. He was glad she had one.
“Harper, I want you to close your eyes.”
“What? Why?”
“I want to show you something, and I want it to be a surprise. It’s a good surprise, I promise. Trust me.” He put a little extra pleading in his voice, wanting her to experience the special spot with its glorious magical quality. Though he wasn’t a fanciful man, he’d swear the place had put a spell on him, and he’d found himself thinking about it, about the peace he’d felt when he’d visited it with Ms. Patti. Of course, she might have had something to do with that feeling too.
“Alright, but it better not be a trick. I should warn you, I don’t get mad, I get even.” He watched a smile curve the corners of her lips upward.
“Duly noted. Now close your eyes, and I’ll guide you. It isn’t far.”
Taking both her hands in his, he gently directed her until she stood right outside the clearing and moved her to where she’d get the best view of the gazebo with its well at the center. The bright white paint was a stark contrast against the brown bark of the trees and the various shades of green from the pines and scattered bushes.
“Alright, open your eyes.”
He heard her indrawn breath, knew the moment she spotted the oasis of serenity amid the Texas forest. There were places on the Boudreau ranch never touched by civilization, and the wildness provided a perfect backdrop for the quaint conical building.
Trellises filled with climbing roses and ivy spilled in cascades along the columns. Though the plants should have been showing signs of dying during the early fall weather, the abundance of flowers and greenery was a testament to Ms. Patti’s green thumb, and probably a little bit of the magic of the place.
“Oh. My. Goodness. This is—I don’t think I have the words to describe it. How did you find it?”
“I didn’t. Ms. Patti showed it to me. This is what the family calls her secret garden. A place where she can get away from everything, leave the house, the family, the worries and stress behind for a little while. From what she told me, she’s worked on it for years, striving to make it prefect. Douglas put in irrigation, so there’s water to keep everything healthy and growing. He also put in electricity. The gazebo lights up.”
“I bet it’s spectacular at night. I wish I had my camera. I’d love to paint this. Maybe I can come back and get some shots later. It screams for watercolors. I haven’t done watercolors in a long time, but for this I might make an exception. Soft brush strokes to play up the intricate shading. It’s beautiful.”
Brian pulled out his cell and started snapping pictures, trying to get everything in the picture. He didn’t think Ms. Patti would mind, and if it made Harper happy, that was a win, too. Satisfied he’d gotten good shots, he stuffed the phone back in his pocket and pointed to the gazebo.
“There’s something special inside, take a look.”
Grinning, she climbed the steps and walked over to the well, leaning over the ledge and peering inside. Pulling a quarter out of his pocket, he handed it to her.
“Make a wish.”
He watched her close her eyes, take a deep breath, and flipped the coin end over end into the well’s depths. The light splash as it hit the water made her laugh.
“Thank you for sharing this with me. I was sitting on the porch feeling sorry for myself, having my own personal pity party. Thinking the world is a lousy place, and most people stink. This,” she gestured to the gazebo’s walls, “reminds me not everything is bad or ugly. There are special people in this world, and I’m lucky to have them in my life.”
“I hope I count as one of those people, Harper.”
Pink flooded her cheeks, and she lowered her head before answering. “You are number one on the list.” She met his gaze, her expression serious. “Am I crazy to feel this way? We barely know each other. It’s only been a few weeks, and we didn’t meet under great circumstances. Yet I feel like I’ve known you forever. I trust you, and I don’t trust easily. I…there’s a connection, something I want to explore, to see if it can be, I don’t know. More. It’s crazy. I can’t even think about getting involved with anybody. Not with all this hanging over my head.”
“You’re not alone in your feelings, sweetheart. From the first time I saw your picture, I felt drawn to you. It didn’t matter the evidence was stacked against you; I couldn’t shake the feeling you were more than a case to me.”
“I’m afraid. What if…”
“Don’t go there, sweetheart. Nobody’s promised tomorrow. We only have today. Here and now. We take things one step at a time. I know you. I’ve watched you when you’re with your friends. When you’re with Douglas and Ms. Patti. Even when you didn’t know anybody was there, I saw you and I cared. And before you ask, yes, I was doing my job. Now my job is to keep you safe, and find out who’s setting you up, so you can be free, and we can see where we go from here. Can you live with that? Taking things slow?”
She nodded and walked over to sit on one of the benches lining the walls of the gazebo. “It’s exactly what I was going to suggest. So far, everything the past few weeks has felt like a runaway train speeding toward a dark tunnel, and I don’t know what’s on the other end. It might be nice to slow down, take a deep breath, and simply find out if this,” she waved between them, “is real or simply close quarters.”
He moved over to sit beside her, stretching his legs out in front of him. It was just after noon, and the heat was spiraling upward. For late September it was going to be a hot day, and he felt like this moment in the quiet might be the last one they had for a while.
“You know I’ve seen your record, don’t you? Your juvenile record?”
She took a deep breath and nodded. He knew he’d tossed the question at her unexpectedly, especially after they’d been talking about giving some kind of relationship between them a chance. But this was important, and now seemed like the best time, since tomorrow they’d be heading east to Louisiana and possibly confronting some of her worst memories. Besides, he wanted—no, needed—her to know who he was, the man he’d become because of this place. The people who’d set his feet on the path to being a decent human being.
“I want to tell you a story. My story. Why this ranch, these people, are important to me. If you want to hear it.”
“Of course, I want to.” She smiled and added, “After all, you know all my secrets.”
“I’m sure there are a few I don’t know about, but that’s okay. We’ve got time.”
He scooted closer to Harper, and slid an arm around her shoulder, resting his cheek against the top of her head. Maybe it would be easier if he wasn’t looking her in the face while he spilled his guts. It wasn’t an easy story, wasn’t one he shared with many people. But she deserved to know who she was getting involved with if she still wanted him after he finished.
“Get comfy, hon, this might take a while.”