Heath hadn’t accumulated much in his short few months in Whisper Falls. As usual, moving on should be easy.
He perched his hands on his hips and surveyed the little apartment. Not much to pack. A few boxes. His clothes and personal effects. His computer and TV. A man couldn’t get along without his big TV. All of his belongings would fit in the back of the SUV. One trip and he’d be gone for good, never to look back.
He sank into the old brown chair and rubbed his palms over his face. Who was he kidding? He’d be looking back at Whisper Falls for years, maybe forever. A man didn’t fall in love every day of the week and then forget about it.
He thought about driving out to Cassie’s house. Maybe if they talked one more time, maybe things would work out.
Heath chuffed, a sharp sound in the silent apartment. “Who are you kidding?”
Nothing could work out with Cassie. He’d blown that chance. Even if he could go back and change what happened, he wouldn’t. Oh, he might handle a few things differently, but Chapman and Carmichael were dirty and deserved justice. That was the Monroe way and he was duty bound. He couldn’t expect Cassie to understand. Nor could he expect her to forget that he was the man responsible for sullying her husband’s name.
A knock sounded at his door. Heath spun toward the entry, hope leaping in his chest, powerful and out of control. “Cassie.”
He flipped the locks and yanked the door inward.
A dark, lanky man leaned against the door frame, grinning his ornery grin.
“Holt?” The pulse in Heath’s throat began to slow as hope turned to curiosity. “What are you doing here?”
“Can’t a man visit his big brother?”
“I’ll be in Houston next week. You could see me then. Is something wrong? Is Mom all right?”
“Relax. The family’s fine.” His brother pushed away from the door to look toward the distant landscape. “Always wanted to see an Ozark summer. I thought I’d take the scenic drive.”
Granted, Whisper Falls was a spectacular jewel in summer with birds and butterflies, flowers and trees a riot of color and life, but he didn’t believe Holt for a second. “If that’s true, where are Krissy and the kids?”
“Dropped them off in Texarkana to see her folks. She sends her love.”
“So you came alone.”
“Yep.”
A thought that had been circling around Heath’s brain popped to the front. “Mom sent you.”
Holt’s slow, wide smile eased up his cheeks. “Looks like my cover’s made, but don’t be blaming Mom. We might have talked but I brought myself. You gonna let me in?”
“Oh, sure.” Surprised at himself for keeping his brother at the door, Heath stood to the side and let him enter.
“Small but nice.” Holt did a quick survey, his PI gaze missing nothing. “Great TV. You get cable up here?”
“Satellite.”
“HD?”
Heath smirked. “This is the Ozarks, not Timbuktu.”
Holt barked a laugh and slapped his hand atop the TV. “Man, it’s good to see you.”
“Same here.” Heath couldn’t help smiling at his younger sibling. As a kid Holt had been as hyper as a terrier. The man was full of focused energy. “You’re looking tan.”
“Mexican beaches are great. Especially on your money.” Holt smirked, a brotherly gotcha as he circled the room in his long, loose stride. “You’re already packing?”
“Collecting boxes. I’ll pack next week. You want a Coke or something?”
“Thanks. I’m parched.” Holt folded his long body into the brown recliner and accepted the Coke Heath offered. “What’s the hurry? A few weeks ago, you were loving on this quiet Ozark outpost.”
“Things change.” Heath flopped onto the couch. He was glad to see his brother again whatever the reasons. Phone calls were great, but in person rocked the house. He missed his family.
“The Mexican problem have anything to do with this sudden change?”
Heath dragged in a breath, exhaling on a gusty sigh. “Yeah. It does.”
“Figured as much. Mom said you were pretty messed up about something and being the brilliant strategic thinker I am, I put two and two together and came up with the widow you’re in love with.”
Heath sat upright. “I never said I was in love with her.”
“Yes, you did. You are. For the first time I can remember, you talked about a woman the way I talked about Krissy before I let her snag me. The way I still do.” Holt tilted his Coke can like a finger point. “Stop trying to blow smoke at a master investigator, and give it to me straight. What’s going on down here? Why are you jumping ship? How does the widow fit into all this? I told you she was clean and getting cleaner with each piece of the puzzle. So what’s the problem, bro? Grab your lady and do-si-do.”
Heath leaned back against the couch and stared up at the ceiling fan stirring the air in lazy swipes. Holt would keep pecking at him until he knew everything just the way he kept pecking at an investigation until all the parts fell into place.
“All right, here’s the deal.” His shoulders slumped. He, a decisive, life-and-death kind of guy couldn’t run his own business anymore. “I messed up. I started seeing Cassie—Darrell Chapman’s widow—for the wrong reasons. Mostly.”
“What exactly does that mean?”
“I took her out at first to discover what she knew about her husband’s operation.”
His brother made a humming sound. “Dude, you are in a world of hurt.”
“Yeah, well, thanks. That helps a lot.”
Holt lifted both palms. “Just saying.”
“At the time I thought she might be implicated in the drug ring. I liked her, enjoyed her company, but in the beginning I was all about the investigation.”
“You let her think it was more?”
“Basically.”
“Oh, son.” Holt dragged out the word with a shake of his head. “Bad move. You’re lucky to still be breathing.”
Holt didn’t know Cassie. She didn’t fight. She retreated. Fighting might have felt better. Clear the air, let it rip.
“My plan was fatally flawed from the beginning. Instead of thinking small town, I acted like an undercover agent. Infiltrate, get to know her, pry out some information and move on. A normal investigation, exactly the kind I’ve done for years.”
“You dated suspects?”
“No, I didn’t date suspects!” The idea made him mad. Did his brother really think he was that low? When it was necessary, he befriended suspects and got to know them. He didn’t date them. “Never.”
“Until now. Until Cassie.” Holt hummed again, his restless foot making slow circles. “You may have thought you were out to collect evidence, but the heart knew something you didn’t.”
“Tell me about it. I was blindsided. One day, I’m praying she reveals something in the case and the next I’m praying she’s innocent and wondering how to get out of this mess without breaking her heart or mine.”
Holt was nodding, his sharp, analytical mind filling in the blanks. “Then I call from Mexico with a break in the case. As the case unravels so does your romance. You get the bad guys, you lose the girl.”
“Something like that.” Heath studied the side of his condensing Coke can, recalling the look of shock and betrayal on Cassie’s face. “Cassie didn’t take the news well.”
“You told her? That you’d dated her as part of the investigation?”
“Unintentionally.” When Holt only stared as if he thought his older brother was an idiot, Heath shrugged. “She asked.”
“Then she threw you out.”
“Basically.” Threw him out, turned her back, handed him his heart on the side of a summer-blessed hill.
He took a long, burning pull on his Coke.
“So you decided to quit your job and hit the road again. Forget about the woman.”
“The DEA is what I know. What I’m good at. I apparently don’t do so well with small towns and personal relationships. What other choice did I have?”
“You can dig in your heels and make this thing work. Call the lady up. Go see her.”
“Won’t happen. She hates me, not only because I dated her for the wrong reasons but for proving her husband was a do-wrong. She thought he was a superhero, a Romeo who doted on her.” Heath tapped his chest with one finger. “I’m the guy who shattered her fairy-tale illusions. You think she’s going to forgive that?”
“Have you told her how you feel, and that you hate what happened? That you wish you could change it?”
“She knows.”
“Does she? Let me give you a piece of advice, bro. Women need words.” When Heath stared at him with hopeless eyes, Holt clumped the soda can on the coffee table. “You know what I think?”
“No,” Heath answered wryly. “But I’m pretty sure you’re going to tell me.”
“And you’d be right.” Holt sniffed. “You’re afraid of commitment. You love this girl, and you’re afraid.”
A quick jolt of anger had Heath leaning forward, fists clenched. “Don’t be a moron. My middle name is commitment. To justice. To the drug war. To Dad’s memory. My record stands for commitment. You know that better than anyone.”
A tiny smile tilted the corners of Holt’s mouth. “Stirred you up a little, didn’t I?”
“Yeah.” More than a little.
His brother tilted back in a long, easy stretch and crossed his legs. Only his dark eyes, brown points of radar, revealed his intensity. No wonder Holt was a good PI. He’d come on affable and relaxed while prying every bit of information from a source. And then, bam! Like a mouse trap, he sprang.
“The family had a meeting, Heath.”
“About me?” Heath touched a hand to his chest, surprised again. “A meeting?”
Holt nodded. “Heston and Mom wanted to come along on my little scenic drive. I told them I’d handle this first round. But if they need to come down and talk to you, I can give them a call.”
“What is this? Some kind of intervention?” He felt a little horrified by the thought. He was the man of the family, not some troubled teen or struggling alcoholic.
“Take it how you want. We’re worried. All your adult life, you’ve been married to your job, taking the worst assignments in the most dangerous, darkest places.”
“Nothing wrong with that. Somebody’s got to do it.”
“Other agents get married, buy a house, settle down. Not you. You’ve never even owned a dog. Man, there is something sick about that.”
“Lots of people don’t own dogs.”
“You like dogs. You’re the kid who slept with a flea-bitten mutt until you left for college.”
“Addie didn’t have fleas.”
“No, she had puppies and you wanted to keep them all.”
True. He missed having a dog and had enjoyed hanging out with Cassie’s friendly, furry trio. “Dogs need lots of attention. I wasn’t around that much to take care of one.”
“My point exactly. When you left the agency and moved to Whisper Falls, Mom was overjoyed. Finally, her eldest was growing roots. When she learned you were dating someone special—” Holt raised his hands in a hallelujah.
“Courtesy of my big-mouthed brother, I suppose.”
“Of course.” Holt showed his teeth. “Here’s the deal in a nutshell, Heath. You’ve allowed Dad’s death to take over your life. It’s time to let it go.”
The statement rocked Heath. Let it go? Abandon his vow to honor his father in exchange for personal happiness? “I can’t. Dad was my hero. He deserves justice.”
“We’ve given him justice, Heath. All of us boys are doing our part to fight crime. All of us honor him every day of our lives. You’re the only one who’s taken the responsibility too far.”
“Not possible.”
“Yes, it is. Dad was first and foremost a family man. He loved us, Heath. He wanted the world for his boys and Mom.”
“Yes.” Heath rubbed a hand over his whiskers. “Yes, he did. He was the best.”
“Do you think you’re the only son who loved him that much?”
The question struck him in the chest like a bullet. “No, of course not.”
“Do you think Heston and I don’t do enough? That we don’t do our part to honor Dad’s memory and legacy?”
“I don’t think that at all.”
“Good, because I’d have to take you down and spit in your ear if you even suggested such a thing.”
The silly statement lightened the mood. Heath grunted, remembering some of the ornery things brothers did to each other.
“Dad would be proud of you both.”
“I believe he would. Being an honest member of law enforcement and a good family man is the way I honor our dad. Do you hear what I’m saying, Heath?”
“Maybe I do.” Heath nodded, the light slowly dawning. “Yes, I think I do.”
All these years he’d subjugated the personal side of his life in pursuit of justice for his father. He’d believed with all his heart that Dad would have expected that much from the oldest son. But Holt was right. Dad wouldn’t have wanted that. Dad was a man first, a cop second. Somewhere along the line, Heath had turned the priorities around.
“Tell me one thing, bro,” Holt said softly. “Do you really want to leave Whisper Falls?”
“No.” There was the truth. A truth that would, indeed, set him free. The weight he’d carried for weeks, perhaps years, lifted from his shoulders. “I was happy here until—”
Holt pushed up from the chair to clamp a long, hard hand on Heath’s shoulder. With understanding in his voice, he said, “Maybe you should give that lady of yours a call.”
Hope plummeted. Truth or not, Cassie and he were over. “She won’t answer.”
“Then go see her. Talk to her. Make her listen. At least try.”
That faint hope glimmered back to life. He didn’t know if Cassie would ever forgive him for being the man who used her to bring down her husband, but he was going to find out.
Bent over the changing table, Cassie fastened the tabs of Levi’s tiny diaper. Fresh from his bath, the little man smelled sweet and clean and his translucent skin gleamed under the overhead light. Even after his scary start, her nephew was thriving enough that Austin and Annalisa had left him with Aunt Cassie to have their first date night since the birth.
“Aunt Cassie loves that idea,” she said as she swaddled him in the soft, blue blanket and then picked him up. She inhaled the fragrance of him, thankful to God that he was healthy and strong. “You’re a handsome boy. Just like your daddy. What?” She pretended to listen. “Oh, if you insist. I’ll give your pretty mama some credit, too.”
Tootsie, the poodle, lifted her head from the floor and cocked an ear.
Cassie grinned, both at the poodle and her own silliness. At only a few weeks old, Levi still looked more like a wrinkled old man than either of his parents, but someday, he’d be a lady-killer.
“You’re going to be a gentleman, too. Not like some men I could name.” Men who would lie and use women. Men who put their own agendas before the women they claimed to love.
The bitter root she’d been fighting dug a little deeper. She’d prayed for God to take away the anger and hurt, and she wanted to understand. She’d even talked to her close friend Haley about the situation. Sweet Haley had sympathized but advised her to look at things from Heath’s point of view. Then she’d told her to get in there and fight for the man she loved.
“Heath’s point of view? Really?” She had no idea what that was, but if he cared for her, he wouldn’t be leaving town. He wouldn’t have misled her.
And Cassie had no fight left in her.
Levi started to fuss and Cassie carried him to the rocker. With a toe to the floor, she set them in motion, snuggling the soft bundle to her chest. “Better to focus on you than men. Even if you will be a man someday.”
As if he understood, Levi squinted midnight-blue eyes at her for a full five seconds before they crossed. Cassie smiled. He was so adorable, her nephew. She loved being an aunt, was thankful to have this opportunity to love a child. Grateful because she was done with men. Levi was as close as she’d get to having children. “So I’d better enjoy you, little mister.” She kissed him on the tiny nose.
The house was quiet. No TV. No music player. Tootsie curled on the rug beside the changing table, chin on her paws, listening with drowsy eyes. Cassie enjoyed the house like this, when she could hear the air vibrate and the baby’s breaths.
She rocked the infant, letting her mind drift to the pretty artwork on one wall—a night scene of the moon and stars above a silver lake lapping against an empty, peaceful shore. Though she didn’t want to go there in her memories, she recalled the last full night of Darrell’s life as they’d strolled a moonlit beach, hand in hand. He’d been especially quiet and when she’d questioned, he’d blamed fatigue.
Something tickled at the edge of her memory, some featherlike itch of disquiet. Nothing Darrell had said but a feeling she’d experienced when they’d met another couple on the beach. A tight string of tension had vibrated in the balmy, ocean-scented air, though the conversation had been casual, an impromptu meeting of two couples on a Mexican beach.
In the aftermath of tragedy, Cassie had forgotten the encounter, but now she realized something had been off-kilter. The woman had complimented her brightly flowered skirt, a gift Darrell had purchased in the hotel souvenir shop. Nothing unusual about that. The odd thing had been the man’s comment. What had he said?
Something about the price of roses had gone up.
The woman had laughed and said, “Oh, but you’ll still buy them, won’t he, Darrell? No matter the cost.”
Darrell had said something in return, but his laugh had been dry and forced. And his hand against hers had been sweaty. She’d not thought much of it at the time. A brief moment on a beach with strangers.
Later, Cassie had asked about the couple and Darrell had denied knowing them, saying they must have overheard her call him by name. She’d believed the easy explanation.
But now, in the light of what she knew, Cassie didn’t think so. Darrell, she was convinced, had known the pair. The exchange about roses rang a strange, unsettling bell that echoed in her head. There was something. Something.
She gently placed Levi in his crib and hurried to her bedroom and the box containing photos and mementoes of a husband she had never really known. Darrell had lied to her, betrayed her, pretended to be someone he wasn’t. It was time for her to stop protecting him. She’d come to accept that, as painful as it was. Somewhere in this box could be the answer.
She removed the items she’d copied for Heath and rifled through them, studying each one with a fresh eye. Photos, receipts, notes. Frustrated, she dumped the remaining items onto the bed. A colorful pair of maracas, whimsical, useless keepsakes like the jumping beans and a plastic drinking cup emblazoned with the hotel’s logo. Souvenirs of a honeymoon that began in joy and ended in despair.
She gave the maracas a shake then put them aside to once more search through the bits and pieces of paper—the hotel bill, receipts.
She turned over a receipt, and there it was, though she’d looked at the page many times without seeing what was there. A small, handwritten notation on the delivery confirmation for a dozen roses, signed by Darrell. The air whooshed out of her lungs as she read, “The price of roses has gone up.” And then a number to contact for more information.
She’d thought her new husband so wonderfully generous to order flowers for her every day. Now, she dug through the box for the other receipts, despising her suspicions. Hands shaking, she found another cryptic reference to roses and money and one with the words, “Delivery by Dias tomorrow night at 8. Room 2.”
They hadn’t stayed in room two.
Now she understood the note she’d found at the tornado site. Darrell had somehow used his gift of roses as a means to pass messages to drug contacts.
What a naive fool she’d been.
Heath was right. But like Darrell, Heath had used her for his purposes. She was doubly foolish and doubly humiliated.
At three rapid barks from outside, she shoved the receipts into her pocket. Though too early for Austin and Annalisa to return, she couldn’t chance them seeing her tears. They’d never understand without the explanation she wasn’t ready to give.
Tootsie shot off the bed, a furry cannonball, and ran for the door, yapping. Levi awakened, startled and began to cry. Dashing at her moist eyes, Cassie hurried to the nursery and picked him up.
“Shh. Shh,” she murmured, gratified when his cries ceased the moment she snuggled him to her chest and went toward the barking dogs.
A shiny black SUV pulled into the drive. Her heart leapt, stuttered, hurt. Her legs felt like water.
“Heath.” Quickly, she tamped back the glad reaction. He wasn’t hers. He didn’t love her. He was probably bringing her more bad news about the investigation.
Oh, Heath. You were right. And I don’t want you to leave. But he would. She wasn’t enough to keep him here.
Resolved to be strong, to give him the evidence and let him go without tears, Cassie stepped out on the porch and asked, “What are you doing here?”
Halfway to the porch, Heath froze in his tracks. Hers wasn’t the greeting he’d hoped for. Yet there Cassie stood holding a baby and looking so motherly and beautiful, his whole being strained toward her. She was what he wanted—no, needed—in his life more than anything. This woman, a future together. The family they could make.
Holt was right. After God, a family and a woman to love kept a man grounded and filled. Heath had been running on empty for a long time.
On the drive from town he’d planned his speech, but now, with Cassie staring holes through him, the carefully arranged words abandoned him.
He started toward her, watched her mist-green eyes go from hurt resistance to bewilderment and then to resignation. Cradling the baby in the crook of her left arm, she reached into her pocket, withdrew a rumpled stack of paper and thrust it at him.
“You’ll want to follow up on these, especially the phone number. I think Dias was Darrell’s contact.” Her voice was stiff and cool. She swallowed, revealing her stress. “Maybe his murderer.”
She’d remembered something. He could see it in her eyes, the despair of knowing the truth. But he hadn’t come about the case. At the moment, he didn’t care about anything but her.
Almost rudely, he pushed her hand aside. “Later. I’m not here about the investigation.”
“No?” She stepped back in surprise, wary as a doe. “Really? I thought that’s all that mattered to you.”
“The case can wait. This can’t. I can’t.”
“Then why are you here? To say your goodbyes? Because I don’t need that, Heath.”
Her lips trembled and he despaired, knowing he caused her pain.
But a woman needed the words. Wasn’t that what Holt advised?
“What if I’m the one who needs something?” He took a step toward her. She backed away.
“I can’t help you anymore. Take the information and leave.” She thrust the papers toward him again.
Really frustrated now, he stalked her until she backed into the wall of the house and further escape was impossible. “I need you, Cassie. You and only you. Forget the investigation, forget everything else.”
Her mouth opened. Her lips trembled as her stoic expression began to melt like candle wax. She spun away. Her shoulders arched, heaved, and Heath berated himself. Was she crying?
“Cassie, don’t. Please.” He touched her shoulder. She stiffened but her body quaked.
From the corral, a horse whinnied, tail swishing at flies. Flashy pink flowers sprawled along the porch railing. Butterflies dipped and curtsied in the evening sun, supping the sweet-scented nectar. A man with his training missed none of the details, but he only had eyes for the woman.
He took her elbow and gently turned her to face him. “Cassie.”
She shook her head and made a feeble attempt to pull away. “The baby.”
“Can we go inside and talk? About us.”
Her expression was stark and wounded, like a kicked puppy. “There is no us.”
Heath’s heart plummeted. Holt was wrong. Cassie wouldn’t have him back. She wouldn’t forgive him.
As if he felt the adult tension, the baby began to wail, a high-pitched, red-faced squall that split the air. Both of the big dogs winced and disappeared around the corner of the house.
Without a word, Cassie went inside the house and left Heath standing alone. He felt like an idiot for coming, but better an idiot than never to know.
Jaw tight, he pounded on the door and then without permission, opened it and walked into the living room. He smelled pizza and would have smiled if the situation wasn’t breaking his heart. His Cassie loved pizza. But she was nowhere in sight.
He raised his voice above the baby’s cry. “I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”
From down the hall, toward the nursery she’d proudly shown him, the baby quieted. A large sunburst clock above the fireplace ticked. The peach-colored poodle padded in to sniff his pants leg and then disappear into the nursery.
He’d already made a fool of himself. “Why stop now?” he murmured.
If Cassie wasn’t going to come out, he’d go to her. With nothing more to lose but his pride, Heath strode to the open nursery.
“We’re going to talk.”
Cassie, leaned in to settle her nephew, turned her head. Her silky black hair swept across her cheeks. “Don’t, Heath. This is hard enough without...”
“Without what? Without telling you that I made a terrible mistake? That I love you and if I could change what happened, the way it happened, I would? That I’d do anything to make things right?”
Slowly, she straightened, and Heath knew he finally had her attention.
“You do? You would?”
“I would. My entire adult life has been about my work and bringing honor to my dad. I was wrong about that, too. Life is so much more. Family and home and the right woman to love.” When she didn’t move, he said, “If you want me to grovel, I will.”
“No.” Then more emphatically, “No. Never.”
But she didn’t help him, either. “Then what will it take to win you back? What do you want? Name your price, Cassie, and it’s yours.”
She took a step toward him, reddened eyes swimming with emotion. “All I ever wanted was for you to love me. Truly love me.”
“I do. I should have told you everything from the beginning, but I didn’t know I’d love you this way. I’ve never felt like this about a woman before. Forgive me, Cassie. Let me be the man you need, the one you love.”
“I don’t know what’s true anymore.” She closed her eyes and put a hand to her forehead. A frown formed there, furrowing her brow. “I was wrong about Darrell and then about you. How do I know this time is right?”
He closed the gap until they stood a breath apart, not touching, but with everything in him, Heath longed to hold her and make up for all the hurt he’d caused. He longed to smooth away her frown with a kiss and make her smile again.
He tapped the place on his left chest. “Listen to your heart. You know. Hear my voice, see this man ready to go to his knees to gain your trust again.” To prove his worth, he did exactly that. He went to his knees in front of her, took her hand and said, “I love you. After what you’ve been through, you’ll say it’s too soon and I promise not to rush you, but I know you’re the one for me. I want to marry you, Cassie.”
A gasp escaped her parted lips. “You do?”
“With all my heart. Say you love me, too, or tell me to hit the road. Your choice.”
She stared at him for such a long moment that his stomach tumbled. In slow motion, she followed him down to her knees. The frown fled and wonder filled her expression.
“You’re right.” She touched the place over her heart. “I do know. In here.” A beautiful smile lit her face. “I wish things had been different, but I can’t hold a grudge. I love you, Heath. And I say yes.”
A flood of joy and relief and thanksgiving rushed through him greater than any adrenaline thrill.
With a tenderness he didn’t know possible, he cupped the face of his love and joined his lips to her soft, trembling ones. When she moved into his embrace and held him tight, he owned the world.