Chapter Fourteen

For a solid week, Heath, aching and angry, used every spare moment to research the case of Darrell Chapman and Louis Carmichael, praying, hoping, dreaming that he’d find something better to share with Cassie. He’d broken her heart, watched her crumble before his very eyes and then walk away from their budding love.

She’d hated him for the truth. But he’d had no choice. Truth was truth.

Then why did he ache and yearn? Why did he lie awake at night longing for a way to make things right with her again?

Some part of him hoped to clear Darrell and play the hero, bringing Cassie good news instead of bad. Instead, the more he learned, the more convinced he became that two small-time operators had gotten in over their heads. If he could only find Carmichael for questioning, he’d be happy.

No, that wasn’t true. He wouldn’t be happy. He’d devastated the woman he loved and that was a hard pill to swallow. She’d broken him, too, the moment she’d turned her back and left him. He loved her. Wasn’t that enough? But he knew the answer and it stung like a burn. She’d loved Darrell’s memory more than a future with the agent who’d discovered the truth.

Still, he couldn’t let go. He’d called her every day, not knowing what he’d say but needing to hear her voice. She refused to answer. Twice he’d seen her. In a small town like Whisper Falls, running into each other was inevitable, but she’d ignored him. Turned and walked the other way as if he was invisible.

There was no denying how much that hurt.

But his father’s death had taught him that the price of justice was sometimes high.

As he turned the corner of Oak and Fairdale near the park, he spotted a car with a missing taillight and executed a traffic stop. He still felt strange performing routine police work such as this, but he pulled to the curb behind the car and scanned the Ford’s interior before stepping out of his vehicle. Thinking tactically had saved his life on more than one occasion.

Fortunately, today he was in no danger. The taillight belonged to Haley Carter, Cassie’s artist friend.

Allowing a smile, Heath approached the window Haley had rolled down. “Morning, Haley. Did you know you have a taillight out?”

The pretty auburn-haired woman turned her head toward the back as if she could see her fender. “Do I?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She screwed up her face in a grimace. “Does that mean I’m getting a ticket?”

“No ticket. Just get the light fixed. Wouldn’t want an accident with that cutie in the back.” He bent low to look in at Haley’s little girl. “Somebody’s catching a nap.”

Haley laughed, a wind chime sound. “Anytime she’s fussy, I take her for a ride.”

“And that puts her out like a light?” The little one’s head was flopped to one side, her bow mouth lax, long lashes stroking her pink cheeks.

“Every single time. Just wait. When you have kids, you’ll do the same thing.”

When he had kids. Like that was going to happen.

“Yeah,” he said, but his heart wasn’t in it.

“Listen,” Haley said, squinting up into the sun. “I’ve been meaning to ask Cassie, but since you stopped me, I’ll ask you. Creed and I would love it if you two would drop by for a visit sometime. We could have a cookout.”

Heath was thankful for sunglasses.

“Appreciate the invitation.” Not going to happen but it was nice of her to ask. He tapped the top of the car with the flat of his palm. “You get that taillight fixed today. Okay?”

“Promise. I’ll run out to the heliport right now and have Creed do it.”

“Sounds like a plan. You have a good day now.”

“Don’t forget to ask Cassie,” she said right before her window closed.

Heath watched her pull away and then headed back to his truck, stomach churning. Friends considered Cassie and him a couple. So had he. But given his line of work, perhaps this way was better.

The fact that she didn’t want to see him made sense. By doing his job, he’d hurt her and he hated that. He’d shattered her illusions about Darrell. He’d destroyed her fantasy of their perfect love, but knowing why she hated him didn’t make it any easier to let her go. They were just beginning. Now they were done.

His radio crackled and he answered. “Monroe.”

“Heath, Pudge has a problem down at the bait shop. A couple of rowdies trying to fight.” There was nothing stiff or fancy about Whisper Falls dispatching. She simply stated what needed to be done.

“I’ll head over there now.”

“Oh, and Heath? That DEA guy called again. Says he wants to sweeten the pot, whatever that means.”

“Got it. Thanks, Verletta.”

In less than three minutes, Heath was inside the fishy-smelling bait shop and in five more, two men, both drunk, were handcuffed and in the backseat of his SUV. After booking them into the jail to sleep it off, he headed into his office to do the paperwork and make that call.

“Agent Jefferson. Heath Monroe.”

“Monroe, good to hear from you.” Heath’s old boss had a voice straight off the streets of Philly where he’d grown up. “You know why I’m calling. Are you ready to come back to work for us yet?”

Heath rubbed at the whisker patch on his chin, contemplating. The timing was perfect. Maybe the phone call was God’s way of nudging him along. “I’ve been thinking about it. What do you have in mind?”

The line buzz said he’d surprised Jefferson with the easy admission. But why not go back to a job he loved and was good at? Nothing for him here in Whisper Falls anymore.

“I’ve got a promotion with your name on it and a nice pay bump. I can also offer you a choice of location. How does that sound?”

“Sounds promising.”

“Don’t play with me, Monroe. Give it to me straight. You’re one of my best agents. You don’t belong in a tiny place like Whisper Falls. You’ve too much expertise and we need you. They don’t.”

His old boss was only partly right. Fancy lot of good his expertise had done him in Whisper Falls. The only time he’d used it, it had cost him the only woman who’d ever made him think about forever.

Heath kicked back in his roller chair and surveyed the small office he shared with the part-timers. His jacket hung on a peg. A photo of his nephews and niece was propped on his desk and a colored picture Ashley sent him was thumb-tacked to the bulletin board. He’d started to settle in. “How soon do you need to know?”

“Today, tomorrow, next week. The sooner the better.” Jefferson cleared his throat. “I’ll start the paperwork.” He chuckled. “You’ll come back. It’s in your blood.”

After Heath rang off, he sat at his desk staring at a different kind of paperwork and thinking. Drug enforcement was his career, his life, his commitment to justice in memory of his father. As his former boss had reminded him, he was good at it.

He opened the photo gallery on his phone and scrolled through. Half the shots were of Cassie, of something they’d done, somewhere they’d been. Simple snapshots with her dogs, with baby Levi, with brownie batter on her nose.

A searing pain cut through him, hot and expanding inside his chest until he wondered if he’d erupt like a volcano. He loved her. But that was over. Her silence was signal enough, and belaboring the point would only hurt them both more.

He closed the app.

Whisper Falls was a fine town. He liked the people and if he were ever to settle anywhere permanently, Whisper Falls could be the place.

He pulled Dad’s badge from his pocket and placed it on the desk, a reminder of his vow, of his calling. The war on drugs needed him more than Whisper Falls.


Cassie heard the rumor from Michelle Jessup who’d delivered the news like a cat with a belly full of cream. Heath was leaving. She’d been so shocked at the news she’d spilled a bottle of shampoo in Mable Harmon’s lap and all over the floor. Cleaning up had taken forever and Michelle had sauntered out of the salon as pleased as could be.

Cassie supposed she shouldn’t be surprised that a man of Heath’s background and training would grow bored with the slow, small-town pace. Still, some foolish, broken part of her yearned to see him. He didn’t know, couldn’t know that she watched the street for his black Expedition and ached each time he parked in front of Evie’s Sweets and Eats. She was being ridiculous, all things considered. They were as over as last year’s replacement TV shows.

“Earth to Cassie. Earth to Cassie. I’m busy over here.” Louise raised a bottle of nail polish above the hands of a customer. “Answer that phone, please.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Cassie grabbed for the landline. “Tress and Tan Salon. Cassie speaking.”

With the receiver cradled between her neck and shoulder, she went through the motions of handling the caller, though her heart wasn’t in the conversation. Her heart wasn’t in much of anything these days.

She hung up the phone and finished folding a load of clean-scented towels while Louise completed Betsy Loggins’s manicure. When the woman left and the shop was empty, Cassie’s friend and partner stormed around her workstation.

“Want to talk about it? Or should I say him?”

“Nothing to talk about.”

“Oh, please. Spare me. Think I don’t know the signs? You’ve been distracted and quiet for a week. Heath doesn’t come around anymore. You don’t dance out the door to meet him at five every evening. You’re not—” she threw her hands out to the sides “—sparkling.”

“We broke it off.” Cassie concentrated on making a perfect square of the hand towel.

“So what? Don’t let a little spat and your silly pride stand in the way. Kiss and make up. You love him.”

“Just leave it alone, Louise.” Cassie turned away to put the stack of towels on a shelf. “I know you mean well, but Heath and I can’t work out. He’s leaving.”

Louise marched around in front of her. “Who said?”

One hand trailing the terry towels, Cassie admitted, “Michelle popped in with the news this morning. You were over at Evie’s chowing on cherry Danish.”

“Michelle wants him. She lied to throw you off the scent. You should ask him yourself.”

“Maybe I will.” And maybe she was looking for another lame excuse to talk to him. Was she so pathetic that a man could betray her and she still wanted him? Her head was tangled with crazy thoughts and uncertainties. She didn’t know anything anymore. “I think I’ll take an early lunch. Carly canceled.”

Louise slumped into a pitiful expression and whined, “Again? Her nails, too?”

“Sorry.”

Louise rolled her kohl-rimmed eyes. “Nothing like waiting until the last minute.”

“She always does.” Grabbing her wallet, Cassie exited the shop and walked across to Evie’s shop, eager to avoid more discussion of Heath Monroe. If he left town, she could forget him, and maybe he’d take his evidence and accusations with him and no one would ever know what a fool Cassie Blackwell had been.

Inside Evie’s Sweets and Eats, she strode to the counter, pointy heels tip-tapping, to order a chicken salad wrap and baked chips. The place was busy, the few tables crammed with customers, so she had to wait. Normally, she’d use the time for conversation with other businesspeople and friends who frequented Evie’s, but today she didn’t feel like talking to anyone.

When her food came, she took the items and turned to leave, thinking a walk in the park might do her good. Before she reached the door, the knob turned and Heath stepped inside.


Heath looked up, saw Cassie standing inside the door and felt his world stop. He slowly removed his sunglasses, drinking her in like a man in a long drought. When he reached her eyes, his chest contracted. Escape was written all over her face.

Hurt, wary, unsmiling, he said, “Cassie.”

“Heath.”

She looked good. Beautiful.

As if they were both on freeze frame neither moved. Heath’s pulse bounced against his collar.

“How are you?” he asked and then softer, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Thank you.” So stiff and formal, as if he’d never said “I love you.” As if he hadn’t held her and kissed her. “Yourself?”

He leaned closer, touched her elbow. “I tried to call you.”

She edged her arm away, clenched it to her side. “I’ve been busy.”

Too busy to care? Too busy to listen, to understand that he’d meant her no harm, but he’d had to do his job?

“I heard you might be leaving Whisper Falls.”

His mouth went grim. A man had no privacy in this town. A decision not yet made and already the rumor mill had him gone. “Word gets around fast.”

“So it’s true?”

“I’m considering.” Unless you want me to stay.

“Is it your old job? The DEA?”

“My boss called me again this morning.”

“He must want you back badly.”

He’d told her about the other calls but this one was different. “He offered a promotion, choice of locations, more money.” Though Heath had never been about the money.

“Where will you go?”

“Wherever I choose.” He told her the options, the job description, made the opportunity sound impressive mostly to convince himself that he wanted to travel again. But not to Mexico. Never again to Mexico.

When he finished the explanation, she beamed a bright smile that should have warmed him but left him cold instead. “You’ll take it, then, and you’ll be the best. The job sounds perfect for you.”

“I suppose.” Will you miss me? Will you be sad I’m gone or will you sweep us away like castaway curls from your salon floor?

His radio crackled. He wanted to rip the device from his belt and throw it out the door. “Excuse me while I check this call.”

“I need to get back to the shop. Good luck on the new job.”

“Cassie,” he started and then didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want her to go. He wanted to tell her, but there was so much inside and all of it useless at this point. He was who he was. He couldn’t change even if he wanted to. Full of regret and longing, he simply said, “Take care of yourself. Be happy. I want you to be happy.”

Her bright smile wavered but she found it again.

“You, too. I mean that, Heath. I wish you every good thing. I’ll pray for you.” Her fingertips grazed his shirt sleeve. “I’ll always pray for you.”

Before he could delay her any longer, she slipped past him and out the door.


Cassie couldn’t do this anymore. Her face was about to crack. She couldn’t go on smiling and pretending all was well when she was crumbling inside.

Heath was leaving. Anything they might have had would go with him. Nothing she could say or do would stop him anyway. She was the gullible fool who’d married a drug dealer, and he was the DEA agent with the powerful sense of right and wrong. He must think she was stupidest woman on the planet, a woman whose new husband hadn’t loved her enough to protect her from himself—if, indeed, Darrell had ever loved her at all.

For the rest of the afternoon she went through the motions of styling hair and friendly chitchat, none of which she remembered. All she could think of was the conversation with Heath. Like a revolving door, his words circled back again and again. He wanted her to be happy. How in the world did he think that was possible?

When the day finally ended, she got in her car and drove home to the ranch. Austin and Annalisa had taken the baby in for his checkup and hadn’t yet returned, for which she was thankful. She didn’t want to talk to another person. She didn’t want anyone else to ask what was wrong.

Other than the faithful dogs, Cassie was blessedly alone. Restless, hurting, needing to think and pray, she changed clothes and saddled her horse for a long, private ride in the woods.

As the buckskin plodded up the trail, past the place where she’d learned the truth about her pseudo-marriage, the sun warmed her back and shone glossy on the horse’s cream-colored neck. In the west, thunderheads built, huge and white and fluffy like a giant’s cotton balls.

She passed a vivid orange butterfly weed, alive with thirsty monarchs. Black-eyed Susans lined the pathway, nodding their sunny faces toward her in greeting or perhaps in sympathy. June, the month of brides, was beautiful in the Ozarks. Normally, the natural beauty refreshed her. Today she simply prayed for peace.

Letting the horse take the lead, Cassie rode for a while without direction. When she heard the gush and roar of Whisper Falls, she realized this had been her destination all along.

She’d prayed here months ago to feel alive again. And look what that had brought her.

Dismounting, she tied the horse near a stand of grass at the base of the pool and started the ascent to that secret, spiritual place behind the foaming cascade of water.

Spray coated the rocks and dampened her face and hands. She was halfway up when the tears came, hot against the cold spray. God had answered her original prayer. The numbness was gone. She could feel again, but she had discovered the hard way that feeling hurt too much.

Too burdened and heavy to continue, she abandoned the climb and came instead to sit on the gray limestone rocks beside the pool at the base of the waterfall. Lacy ferns formed a canopy overhead. Knees drawn up under her chin, Cassie stared into the mirrored pool and prayed. She prayed to understand God’s will and direction. She prayed for Heath, for his job and his future wherever his pursuit of justice might take him because she loved him. Most of all she prayed for God to tell her where to go from here. She couldn’t trust her own judgment about men, not after the double fiascos.

Losing Darrell had been sharp and cruel and fast. Losing Heath was a slow, burning agony.

She couldn’t return to business as usual. For so long after Darrell’s death, she’d convinced herself that she was destined to be alone, the sister, the friend, the best salon operator in the Ozarks. No matter how much she enjoyed her work and her brother’s family, her life felt empty and meaningless without love. Not love for love’s sake. Without Heath.

But Heath was leaving. For all his sweet words and passionate kisses, like Darrell, he hadn’t loved her. He’d needed her for an investigation, and love had been his weapon.

At the harsh reality of that bitter, bitter truth, Cassie put her face on her knees and grieved.