Chapter 22 #2
When she reached the front door, she tried the handle. Locked. Not a surprise. She wasn’t so na?ve as to think she’d just waltz straight in without having to work for it.
“This is a terrible idea,” Joel growled.
“Maybe.” She moved to the living room window and lifted. Also locked.
“Polly—”
“One search of the house and if we don’t find anything, we leave.” She crossed to the bedroom window. It opened.
Bingo.
She went to climb in, but Joel grabbed her arm. “The last time you broke into a house, you found dead bodies. And the time before that you needed me and Ethan to bail your ass out.”
“And this time you’re already here, so we’ve skipped a step. And I doubt we’ll find any dead bodies today.” She pulled herself up and through the open window.
There was another curse behind her before he entered after her.
“So you make a habit of breaking and entering,” Joel muttered.
She glanced over her shoulder, a smile tugging at her lips. “Look who’s talking.”
He pulled the window closed with a humph .
She stepped over to a framed photo. It was of him and her mother. They were hugging. They looked happy.
Was it a lie? Or maybe he really did love her…but he also loved killing women.
Warmth pressed at her back, then Joel’s deep, rumbly voice sounded. “Do you want it to be him?”
“It’s not about what I want.”
“No. But I’m still asking the question.”
She studied her mother’s wide smile. “It would kill her. But the mystery would be solved, he’d be arrested, and the town would be safe.”
“Let’s see if we can find some evidence then.” He kissed the side of her neck before moving away. And dammit, she wanted him back.
She snuck a peek at him beneath her lashes. He was breaking into a house for her. Committing a crime.
God, she loved him.
As he searched the drawers and beneath the bed, she went into the bathroom. She didn’t even know what she was looking for. Duct tape? A “how to kill” manual?
She wasn’t a detective. But she was hoping she’d know what she was looking for when she found it.
When there was nothing suspicious in the bathroom, she stepped into the walk-in closet. The space was tiny. So small, she could barely fit.
Luckily, Jonah was a man and didn’t have a million pieces of clothing.
She made sure to keep the door open. Wide open. She did not need to have a panic attack right now.
First she checked the floor beneath the hanging clothes. Shoes. A couple of empty boxes. When she found nothing of interest, she grabbed a step stool from the corner and searched the top shelf above the clothes, spotting a shoebox.
Maybe this was it. Maybe she’d find suspicious items belonging to the missing women. Phones. A shoe. A creepy lock of hair.
Her heart began to race, anticipation almost making her fingers shake.
One. Two.
She opened the lid.
Shoes. Men’s shoes.
Goddammit. She pushed the lid back on and put it back onto the shelf.
She stepped back to the ground. “I haven’t found anything. Nothing. Squat. It’s like…”
Something on the floor caught her attention. A pamphlet that sat in the corner that she’d almost missed.
Slowly, she lifted it to see it to see an AA information sheet.
What was this? Was Jonah an alcoholic? Was that why he’d been away from her mother a few evenings and not wanted to tell her? “Joel?—”
Joel was suddenly in front of her. His hand covered her mouth and he stood so close, her face was almost in his chest.
She was about to yank his hand away when she heard it—the front door opening.
Oh no…
Joel stepped forward, shuffling her backward before pulling the door closed behind him. Then it was just them, in a space so small that her skin began to crawl.
Not good. This was not good. She’d hidden in a closet at Lilith’s house, but that space was bigger. Brighter. There was room to move. To breathe.
Shit . He’d known this was a bad idea. He should have stopped her. He should have tossed the woman over his damn shoulder and driven her home.
Cursing sounded from the other room.
“That gun. That stupid gun!”
Joel frowned at Jonah’s angry muttering.
“This is bad,” Jonah continued. “ Really bad.”
Soft steps against carpet sounded, like the guy was pacing in the bedroom. Then the sound of a dial tone while on speaker.
“Hello, Benson Defense Lawyers, Ashley speaking. How can I help you?”
“I need to speak to Martin Tills,” Jonah said quickly.
“I’m sorry, sir, he’s in a?—”
“ No . This is urgent. Tell him it’s Jonah Goodwill.”
Polly’s heavy breathing suddenly pulled Joel’s attention away from Jonah. Not just heavy…ragged. And she was trembling.
Her claustrophobia. Fuck. How had he forgotten? Of course she couldn’t breathe. This space barely fit one person, let alone two.
His hand was still over her mouth, her quick breaths against his fingers. Even though there was no space between them, he inched closer, his entire front touching hers. Then he leaned down, his lips grazing her ear as he whispered, “Breathe for me, Sunshine.”
She gripped his shirt, her hands balling the material in her fists. “I…I’m trying.” Her words were so quiet, they barely reached him.
She turned her head toward his. Their breaths mingled. Their gazes locked.
“You’ve got this,” he whispered. “In and out.”
For a few long beats, her gaze held his like she was a prisoner. Like they were tethered and there was no pulling away. Then she closed her eyes and touched her forehead to his.
He cupped her cheeks, trying to warm her cool skin. Gently, he stroked his thumb over her cheek. Soothing. Calming.
“That’s it,” he whispered, his words just for her. “It’s just you and me.”
Her breathing started to even out. It was still faster than it should have been, but it wasn’t coming out in short puffs anymore.
When he straightened, she leaned into his chest, pressing her cheek over his heart. He kept stroking her cheek, willing her to breathe, and with his other arm he held her close.
A loud banging suddenly sounded on the front door. Joel’s focus shifted back to the other room.
“Oh no!” Jonah gasped. “I think he’s here.”
Who was there?
“It’s okay,” a voice over the phone said. “I’ll meet you at the station.”
Another bang on the door, then a voice.
“Jonah. Open up! It’s Ward.”
There could only be one reason Ward was at Jonah’s house, and it wasn’t good.
He wasn’t sure if Polly was listening or just focusing on keeping air moving through her lungs. Either way, there was no change in her breathing.
The creak of the front door opening sounded, then Ward’s distant voice.
“Jonah Goodwill, you’re under arrest for the murder of Jenna Hampstead.”
And there it was—the gun was the weapon used to kill Jenna. Jonah had definitely held the gun in his hand…but had he used it? Had he murdered her?
Ward read Jonah his rights, then the door clicked closed and there was silence.
Joel didn’t step out of the closet right away. He needed to be sure they were alone and no one was coming back.
A few long minutes passed. The silence stretched. Polly kept her cheek against him and he continued to stroke her back.
Finally, Joel pushed the door open and guided Polly out.
She sucked in big gulps of air. “Thank God!”
“Are you okay?” He studied her eyes. Eyes that were still too wide and unfocussed.
“I’m okay.” She hugged him and leaned her head into his chest again. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
For a moment, he just held her. He didn’t care that they stood in someone else’s house. That they shouldn’t be here. He just cared about her and making sure she really was okay.
When she finally stepped back, she frowned up at him. “Ward arrested Jonah.”
“Yeah.” He slipped an arm around her waist. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. I am officially banning you from breaking into any more homes from this point forward.”