43. Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Three
E mma
Declan’s expression is so dire that I almost don’t want to ask, but my lips form the words anyway.
"What is it?"
Instead of answering, he turns to my Grandpa and says, "You mind keeping a lookout while we check out the bedroom?"
"No problem," Grandpa answers. "I'll holler if I see anyone, but I might already be done with him before you get down here." He lifts his baseball bat and settles it on his thighs
"All the better," Declan says and pats the older man's shoulder as we walk into the cottage. The living room still looks pretty much how it did after the renovation, but as we climb the staircase, I notice some mud on the wooden floorboards.
The real clue is in my bedroom. Grandpa was right. Whoever left, must have done so in a hurry because all my drawers were pulled out and the window left swinging wide open.
Wind rustles the curtains and Declan walks around, eyes scanning over each feature.
He doesn't say anything. I can tell he doesn't want to say anything. When he turns to me, there's a pained line sitting on his forehead.
He opens his mouth but not a single word comes out.
Oh, Lord.
Imagine something so bad that even Declan seems unable to choke it out.
I steel myself for whatever tragic news he has for me. I try to figure out what painful, unspeakable thing it might be, but for the life of me, I can't come up with anything.
Or is it about what he almost said back at the hotel before we got cut off by my grandpa's phone call? The word that began with 'l'?
Except I didn't think that was bad news at the time. As silly as it is, I thought he was about to tell me he loved me.
Of course, the minute we left the hotel, I realized how ridiculous that idea was. Declan would never admit to his feelings for me, especially not now. And the fact that he didn't mention it again felt like proof.
But then if it's not that, what terrible thing is it?
Suddenly, I feel like a band stretched, poised to snap at any moment. The air feels thin and faint, making my heart pound faster with every drawn-in breath.
"I’m listening," I say when it becomes apparent that Declan needs more prompting.
He sighs again and runs his hand over his face
"I really didn’t want to have to tell you this without knowing for sure," he hedges.
"It's fine. Just tell me." I clench my hands into fists, holding my breath.
Finally, he starts speaking.
"Earlier today, when I visited Nate Huntley, I had an epiphany. Nate didn't go into my office to steal anything in particular. He went there to get information. Information about our construction and the plans we had moving forward. He then fed that information to whatever crew he was working with so they could work to derail our progress. That's why the renovation has been going haywire since the start."
"Okay," I say carefully, digesting the information. It makes sense. Nate, like many people in town, probably wouldn't want the hotel to get renovated, although Nate probably has different reasons for that. He and his less savory friends used to hang out at the hotel all the time, and I bet they still planned all their mischief there.
"That led me to another realization that Nate isn't working alone," Declan continues. "And he's not the one in charge. He's the fall guy for someone else, and that person has been visiting him frequently in jail to make sure he doesn't blab about their plan."
"Did you figure out who it is?
"I have my suspicions but nothing concrete. I went through the list of Nate's visitors and the only two names there that occurred with any frequency were Rick’s and Poppy."
"What?" It makes no sense. "You think Rick and Poppy are behind your office break-in."
"Maybe not both of them, but one of them might be. I wasn’t sure at first but it makes sense. Neither of them likes me or wants me around. And they both have ties to Nate."
"Yes because Rick and Grandpa have known him for years. And Poppy too. Poppy taught him how to shoot before she realized why he wanted a gun. After he got in trouble, she was the only one who would hire him to do her yard work."
"Exactly. Which is a good reason for him to help her out with this little plan of hers. He probably feels indebted to her and Rick, so it didn’t take much convincing to make him their fall guy."
"This is crazy, Declan."
"Oh believe me, I know. I thought I was just being a crazy paranoid fucker too. Until now." His eyes are intense, marking the severity of the situation. "The dog didn’t bark, Emma. That little thing goes off like a windy-toy whenever Xavier or anyone he doesn’t know is around. But when someone broke into your house, he was mute."
"That’s still not evidence enough." I rub my temples suddenly feeling a dull throb behind them. A voice in my head whispers that this can’t be happening. The voice is my own and it sounds horrified.
Distant thunder rumbles marking the incoming storm.
"I know," Declan answers. "And I know it all sounds circumstantial at best. But it’s too much to be a coincidence right now. And I can't afford to ignore it."
Even though his eyes are sober, his gaze unyielding, a sad, almost pitiful look sits in their depths. He doesn't want to be telling me these things. It's evident even from the set of his shoulders. He's not deriving any satisfaction from solving this mystery. It's almost like he doesn't want it to be true either.
That, more than anything, sways me toward believing him.
And then I realize exactly what he’s not saying.
"Do you think whoever planned your office break-in was the same person who planned the break-in at my home?’
Declan doesn’t say anything for a while but then sighs. "It’s the only logical explanation. Why else would Nate take the blame for your break-in too?"
"That makes no sense!" The tension pops and the sound explodes from me. "You're telling me that Rick told someone to break into my house, Declan? Or Poppy? These people raised me. We’re more than just family friends or neighbors. Poppy is my best friend's mother. Rick is like a father to me."
"I know." The hands he places on my shoulders barely stop me from hyperventilating as he draws me into an embrace. "I know. And I’m so sorry that all this is happening. I'm so sorry, honey. Come on, let's take deep breaths."
I obey, breathing into his shoulder, and inhaling his sandalwood scent. But the mantra repeats in my head . This really cannot be happening.
Any moment now, I'll pinch myself and wake up.
But the nightmare feels too real. Declan's body is definitely solid as he holds me, murmuring comforting words, and running one hand through my hair. If he's real that means this is real too.
And Rick or Poppy may be behind this.
God, how horrible.
Eventually, the pounding in my ears subsides and I finally breathe steadily again. I relax into Declan's embrace, savoring the soothing hand on my back, the steady beat of his heart. I cling to him for comfort.
I missed him so much, and despite feeling like my world is falling apart, I'm happy that Declan is here with me, at least for now.
"Like you said, I could be wrong," Declan continues in a low tone. "This could all just be one big misunderstanding. But there’s only one way to know for sure."
"How?" I murmur.
"We need to talk to Nate Huntley." He pulls back slightly, his hand cupping my cheek as he stares into my eyes. "You don’t have to be there if you don’t want to, but Nate would be the best person to clear it up. Of course, if you'd rather take a break from all this–"
"No. I’m a grown woman and this concerns me too. I'm not running away from this. I'll go with you."
Declan grins down at me and then gently brushes his lips over mine. I know it's not supposed to be a real kiss. It feels comforting, almost like something a mother would do to soothe a child.
Of course, that is until I nip his lower lip and suck it into mine.
Declan's entire body freezes, but I don't. I stand on my tippy toes and meld our lips together, kissing him for all I'm worth. I bury my hands in his hair tasting his hesitation, the storm inside me taking on a new form.
"Emma." He groans and waves of lust hit me as he grips the back of my neck, his kiss dialing up the passion. He devours me, his tongue tangling with mine, licking and lashing at mine. I gasp into his mouth and grip his shirt to steady myself against the rush of desire rendering my knees shaky.
"Fuck." Declan whispers against my lips, his other hand drifting down to grip my butt and push me into the cradle of his hips. His erection stands hot and heavy against my belly, and my mind instantly goes blank.
All I can think about now is dropping to my knees and taking him in my mouth.
Suddenly, a gust of air hits my heated skin and I'm falling back against the wall. I open my eyes to find Declan at the opposite wall, his eyes swimming with dark animalistic hunger.
"Shit," he rasps, swallowing violent breaths. "Sorry. This isn't the time for this, but I couldn't help myself."
I nod. "I understand. Neither could I."
He attempts a smile. "We need to talk about this...about us. But not right now. When everything is over."
I nod, even though my brain is still slow to make sense of what he said. There is no us, I should have responded, but it's impossible to deny what just happened.
With the way I feel about him, there will probably always be an us.
The thought plagues me as we leave my grandfather. We give him strict instructions to stay indoors and lock everything. Then we drive to the police station.
On the way there, Declan makes two phone calls. The first is to someone called Frederick who I deduce from the nature of the conversation is the PI he hired. Declan gives him a rundown of everything he just told me while the other man listens silently on the other end of the line.
"I think I'm close to figuring out who's behind this," Declan says. "So I'll need you to work quickly and give me everything you have about Poppy Moon, Rick Jovin, and Xavier..." He glances at me.
"Hill," I fill in. "Xavier Hill."
"I already have information on the first two," Frederick responds. "I've been collecting info on everyone in town since I got here and thought those two might be people of interest. Although you beat me to the punch on that one."
"Good. We're almost at the police station, so just email me the report. I'll read it later."
"Alright."
After he hangs up, the next call is to Cross.
"Did you find Xavier?"
"Yeah," Cross answers. "He's at a coffee shop now making a bunch of phone calls."
"Good. Keep your eyes on him. And if he seems dangerous don't hesitate to shoot him."
I shoot Declan an alarmed look and he rolls his eyes and adds, "But somewhere nonfatal like in the leg."
"Sure thing boss." Cross sounds like he's laughing when he hangs up.
I shake my head at Declan who simply cocks an eyebrow unapologetically. I know he doesn't like Xavier, for a very good reason, but that doesn't justify having him shot in my book.
At least not yet.
For the rest of the ride, I zone out staring out the window. Declan turns up the heat in the car, but I still somehow feel a chill in my bones. The dark cloud has turned everything grey.
I don't know if it's the dismal weather or my own shattered illusions, but even the lake doesn’t seem as pretty anymore as we drive. In fact, it seems downright menacing, still on the surface with something threatening rumbling just underneath.
Just like my beautiful town.
I’m still hoping Declan is wrong but I’m scared that he’s not.
When we arrive at the police station, the eerie stillness seems to follow. Officer Jensen is once more the only officer in here, and he looks up as the door clangs closed behind us.
"Do you have it?" Declan asks and Jensen wordlessly nods and tosses him the now dry, dirty sack. It's the same one we found in the Pink Hotel Basement.
"Thanks," Declan says and walks to the cell holding Nate. I follow him two paces behind.
Declan holds up the bag. "You had a secondary reason for breaking into my office, didn't you? Did you lose something? Were you looking for this?"
Nate tries to school his features into disinterest but he doesn't do a very good job. "I don’t know what you’re talking about and I'm not talking to you without my lawyer present."
Declan grins savagely. "Alright. Then I talk, and you just listen. Here’s how I think the story goes. You and your gang or whoever, are hoarding Rainbow Pearls to sell on the black market. I don’t know how you find them or how expensive they are yet, but I do know they’re rare and that usually means that someone is willing to buy them. You were in my hotel at some point, probably looking for the renovation plans and then when you heard someone coming, maybe you hid in the basement. Then you dropped this as you made your escape, and unfortunately for you, Emma found it before you could go back to retrieve it.
“You wanted to get the pearls back, but you didn’t want anyone to know why or how you got them in the first place, so you couldn't exactly go to the police. So instead, you went to Emma's house looking for them and wrecked the whole place to cover your tracks. Is that correct?"
"I want my lawyer."
"Nate, who is it you're working with?" he asks. "Tell me, and I might consider sparing you in all this."
"I said I want my lawyer."
Suddenly, Declan pauses. His eyes flare open like he just realized something.
Gardening gloves,” he says. “I found gardening gloves on my first day at the Pink Hotel. Those were yours, weren’t they? Emma says that you used to do Poppy’s yard work. Did you tend to her garden? Is she the one putting you up to this?”
Declan's phone rings, interrupting his questioning. He frowns and holds it up to show me the caller ID. It's Monty.
He puts the phone on speaker. "What is it, Monty?"
"Boss," he says, his voice labored. "I fucked up."
"What?"
"They took your daughter."