Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
They'd been back at the cottage for three days when Tessa finally felt safe enough to suggest a walk into town.
The cabin had been a cocoon, a world separate from everything that waited outside the locked gate.
They'd slept late, cooked simple meals, and made love on every surface that would hold them.
Brian had built fires in the stone fireplace each evening, and they'd talked until the flames burned low, sharing pieces of themselves they'd never shared with anyone.
But Sergeant Diaz had called that morning with news. Marcus Webb hadn't been spotted in Copper Moon since the concert. His car hadn't been seen. His credit cards hadn't been used anywhere in the state. It was as if he'd vanished.
"That doesn't mean he's gone," Brian had said, his jaw tight.
"No," Diaz agreed. "But it also doesn't mean you have to stay locked up forever. Live your life. We're watching."
So here they were, walking down Main Street in the late morning sun, Brian's hand warm around hers. The shops were open, tourists wandering in and out with shopping bags and ice cream cones. A normal day in a normal town. Tessa tried to let herself believe in it.
"I want to stop at Ruth's," she said. "I finished the book she recommended, and I need something new."
"Lead the way."
They passed Lila's Sweet Treats, the scent of fresh bread drifting through the open door. Cooper's Hardware with its hand-painted signs. The bookstore where Bree's paintings hung in the window, their copper tones catching the light.
Tessa was looking at one of the paintings, a seascape with the moon rising copper over the water, when she felt Brian's grip on her hand tighten.
"Tessa."
His voice was low. Controlled. The voice of a man who didn't want to cause a scene but was ready to.
She followed his gaze.
Marcus Webb stood on the sidewalk across the street, watching them.
He wasn't hiding anymore. No gray cap pulled low, no sunglasses obscuring his face. He stood in plain sight, hands in the pockets of his khaki pants, wearing a button-down shirt like he was on his way to a casual business meeting. His dark hair was neatly combed, his posture relaxed.
He looked like any other middle-aged professional enjoying a beach town on a weekday morning.
Except for the way he was staring directly at her with a small, knowing smile.
"Brian," she said, but he was already moving.
He stepped off the curb, pulling her with him, crossing the street in long, purposeful strides. Tessa's heart hammered against her ribs. This was wrong. This was the opposite of what Diaz had told them to do. Don't engage. Don't confront. Call us.
But Brian wasn't stopping, and she wasn't letting go of his hand.
Webb didn't move. He watched them approach with that same infuriating calm, like he'd been expecting this, like he'd planned for it.
Brian stopped three feet away, his body angled to shield Tessa. "You've been following her for weeks. It ends now."
Webb tilted his head, studying Brian with clinical interest. "You must be the new boyfriend. The firefighter. Or is it EMT? I've heard conflicting reports."
"I'm the man who's going to put you in the hospital if you don't walk away."
"Violence." Webb's smile widened slightly. "Interesting choice for someone in the helping profession. Does that response work for you often? The intimidation, the threat of physical harm?"
Tessa stepped around Brian, putting herself in Webb's direct line of sight. Her hands were shaking, but her voice came out steady. "What do you want, Marcus?"
His eyes shifted to her, and something flickered in them. Something that looked almost like pleasure. "Dr. Callahan. It's been a long time since we've spoken face-to-face. How long has it been? Eight months? Nine?"
"I know who you are," she said. "I know what you've been doing. The police know too."
"Do they?" He seemed genuinely curious. "And what exactly have I been doing? Walking? Looking at the scenery? Attending a public concert?" He spread his hands. "I'm a free citizen enjoying a beautiful coastal town. Is that a crime now?"
"You followed me from Chicago."
"I relocated. Many people do. The cost of living in the Midwest is quite reasonable, but the winters..." He shook his head. "I needed a change."
Brian's voice was a low growl. "Cut the bullshit. We know about your brother."
For the first time, something shifted in Webb's expression. The pleasant mask cracked, just for a moment, revealing the rawness underneath. Then it was gone, smoothed over so quickly that Tessa might have imagined it.
"My brother," he said quietly, "died on a table in Chicago General's emergency room. The trauma surgeon on duty decided he wasn't worth saving."
"That's not what happened." Tessa's voice shook now, the old guilt rising up like bile. "His injuries were catastrophic. No one could have saved him. I tried. I did everything I could."
"Everything you could," Webb repeated the words like they tasted bitter.
"That's what they always say, isn't it? The doctors, the nurses, the administrators.
Everything they could. And then they move on to the next patient, the next shift, the next paycheck.
While families are left with nothing but a body and a bill. "
"I am sorry about your brother," Tessa said, and she meant it.
She'd carried the weight of every patient she'd lost. They all stayed with her, ghosts that lived in the quiet moments, in the space between sleeping and waking.
"But stalking me won't bring him back. Terrorizing me won't change what happened. "
"Terrorizing." He laughed, a hollow sound.
"Is that what you think this is? Terror?
" He stepped closer, and Brian shifted, ready to intervene.
Webb held up his hands in mock surrender.
"I'm a psychologist, Dr. Callahan. I study human behavior.
I was curious about you, that's all. The woman who held my brother's life in her hands and let it slip through her fingers. "
"We had a patient in common once," he continued, his voice taking on an almost academic tone. "Your patient. My brother. And now I've had the chance to observe you in your natural habitat. To see how you live, how you cope, whether you show any signs of the trauma you inflicted on others."
"That's enough." Brian's hand closed around Webb's upper arm. "You're going to walk away now. You're going to leave this town, and you're never going to contact her again."
Webb looked down at Brian's hand, then back up at his face.
"Or what? You'll hit me? Right here on Main Street, in front of all these witnesses?
" His smile returned. "I don't think so.
You're too smart for that. You know how it would look.
The violent boyfriend, the crazy accusations, the poor grieving brother who just wanted answers. "
"I don't give a damn how it looks."
"You should." Webb gently removed Brian's hand from his arm. "People get hurt when they stop thinking clearly. When they let emotions override judgment. It never works out the way they think it will."
He turned to Tessa, and the mask slipped again, just enough for her to see the grief and rage that lived beneath it. "I'm not done studying you, Dr. Callahan. There's still so much to learn. About guilt. About consequence. About what happens to people who walk away from the damage they've caused."
"Is that a threat?" Brian demanded.
Webb's expression smoothed back to pleasant neutrality.
"It's an observation. I'm a scientist at heart.
I observe, I document, I draw conclusions.
" He checked his watch, a casual gesture that seemed deliberately designed to infuriate.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment.
Lovely to finally speak with you, Dr. Callahan.
I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again. "
He turned and walked away, unhurried, his footsteps steady on the pavement. Just a man going about his day. Nothing to see here.
Tessa realized she was trembling. Her whole body was shaking, the adrenaline that had been holding her together suddenly draining away.
Brian's arms came around her, pulling her against his chest. "I've got you. I've got you."
"He's not going to stop," she whispered against his shirt. "Did you see his eyes? He's not going to stop until he gets whatever he thinks he deserves."
"Then we make him stop." Brian's voice was hard with certainty. "We call Diaz. We tell her exactly what he said. That was a threat, Tessa. The restraining order, the interstate stalking, and now direct confrontation with implied violence. That's enough for an arrest."
She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe that the system would work, that the police could protect her, that this nightmare would end with handcuffs and a jail cell.
But she'd seen Webb's eyes. She'd seen the patience there, the calculated calm of a man who had been planning this for months. Maybe years. He wasn't going to make it easy. He was too smart for that.
"He's a psychologist," she said. "He knows exactly how to stay just inside the line. Everything he said could be interpreted as grief, as curiosity, as a man trying to understand his brother's death. A good lawyer would tear the case apart."
"Then we get a better lawyer."
She pulled back to look at him, at the determination in his jaw, the fury banked behind his pale blue eyes. He meant it. He would fight for her, spend whatever it took, do whatever was necessary to keep her safe.
It should have made her feel protected. Instead, it made her afraid.
"Brian." She touched his face, her palm against his cheek. "I don't want you to get hurt because of me. Webb is dangerous. Not in the way you're used to, not the kind of danger you can fight with your fists. He's dangerous in his head, in his planning, in his patience."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"I know. That's what scares me."
He covered her hand with his, pressing it harder against his face.
"I spent fifteen years running into burning buildings.
I watched my friends get hurt, watched strangers die, and carried bodies out of wreckage that shouldn't have been survivable.
And the one time I couldn't save someone, the one time it mattered most, I walked away.
I ran. I came here and hid from everything I used to be. "
His eyes held hers, fierce and unwavering. "I'm done running. I'm done hiding. Whatever Webb throws at us, we face it together. That's not negotiable."
She kissed him, right there on Main Street, with tourists walking past and shopkeepers watching from their windows.
She kissed him because she didn't have words for what she was feeling, because the fear and the gratitude and the love were all tangled together in her chest, and this was the only way to let them out.
When they broke apart, he was smiling. Just slightly, the corner of his mouth lifted in that way that made her heart flip.
"Was that a, yes?" he asked.
"That was a, we're in this together," she said. "Now call Diaz. Let's make this official."
He pulled out his phone, but before he could dial, it buzzed in his hand. A text from Hank: Saw the whole thing from the shop window. Colby and I are coming. Don't do anything stupid until we get there.
Brian showed her the screen, and despite everything, Tessa laughed. It came out watery, tinged with the residue of tears, but it was real.
"Copper Moon looks out for its own," she said, remembering what Colby had told her at Lila's that first week.
"Yeah." Brian's arm came around her shoulders, solid and warm. "It does."
They waited on the corner, watching the direction Webb had gone, watching the street for any sign of his return. The morning sun was bright overhead, the sky achingly blue, the kind of perfect beach day that drew tourists from miles around.
Somewhere out there, a man was walking free who believed she owed him something. Who believed that grief entitled him to make her life a living nightmare.
But she wasn't alone anymore. She had Brian beside her, Hank and Colby on their way, a sergeant who answered her calls, and a town that had decided she belonged.
It wasn't safety, not exactly. But it was something close.
It was a fighting chance.