Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
COOPER
Ileaned back in the leather rolling chair, my fingers locked behind my head, and released a heavy sigh that sounded like a blend of paralyzing disappointment and defeat.
We had zero hits on the Optima.
Zero.
Not a single soul within a thirty-mile radius matched the description of our suspect. The Withered Man had vanished into thin air. His car had evaporated.
Fucking poof.
James threw his pen onto the desk as he slammed the phone down. “Goddamn,” he muttered through a headshake. “I don’t think I’ve ever worked a case this straight-up frustrating. This guy has given us everything, but we can’t crack him.”
I scrubbed both hands over my face.
We’d followed up with every lead. Every possible sighting, which had been hundreds.
White male, approximately fifty-years old, withered and lanky.
Silver scruff at the time of the abduction.
It was a common description, and the truth was, the man could be anywhere by now. He could have fled to Mexico. Ecuador.
The moon.
Frustrating was an understatement.
We’d had one promising lead that didn’t pan out, after re-interviewing the employees at Kristoff’s.
There’d been a discrepancy—a middle-aged man who drove a gray sedan had been let go the week prior to Abby’s abduction.
The man’s name was Kelly Weiland and Officer Holmes had mistakenly passed over the name, thinking it was a woman.
But Mr. Weiland had been in Canada the night of the attack, so he was promptly eliminated.
The discovery had only made Holmes feel like a giant asshole and had compelled me to take my anger out on a six-pack of beers that evening.
I was about to respond to James when the phone rang. I answered quickly. “Crow’s Peak Police Department. McAllister speaking.” A groan rumbled in my chest. “Hi, Dad.”
My father was begging me to come in and help train the new bartender he’d hired on. I wondered if hell no was too subtle.
“I need you, Son. Katie told me your shift is up at four today. I only need a few hours of your time,” Dad pleaded.
My eyes narrowed as I plotted revenge against my sister.
Way to have my back, Sis.
“I’m swamped at work. This case is killing me.”
“Are you the only officer in your department?”
“You know I’m not. That’s not the point.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Why can’t you or Henry do the training?”
“There’s a live band playing tonight. We’re going to be packed. I need an extra pair of hands, Coop.”
I tried to think of the last time I’d said no to my father, but I couldn’t. It simply wasn’t something I did. While our relationship had become strained after Mom had died, my loyalty never wavered.
Dad seemed to have already sensed my reluctant acquiesce, courtesy of my prolonged silence. “I appreciate it, Son. See you at seven.”
James shot me a look of sympathy as I hung up the phone. “Want some company? I could go for a cold one tonight.”
I could go for a shot of Patrón, a day off, and a twelve-hour nap.
But I’d settle for some company.
Abby
I tapped both feet in unison against the plush carpet of Maya Lowry’s office.
It was my fourth session with the psychiatrist and the fourth time I’d revisited those horrific two weeks of my life.
Every other day, those memories stayed buried deep.
I only dusted them off and gave them life when I was sitting on Maya’s aqua loveseat.
It was the only time I allowed myself to go to that dark, painful place.
Maya was looking especially lovely in a coral jumpsuit with oversized golden-hoop earrings and shiny pink nails. I couldn’t help but feel like a disheveled bum whenever I was in the woman’s presence. Maya’s eyes, teeth, and even her bronzed skin, seemed to sparkle.
It was a sparkle-fest.
I twisted my long, decidedly drab hair, over one shoulder as I studied the woman across from me. Maya’s foot bobbed, her leg crossed over her opposite knee. She looked through her notes before her eyes lifted to mine. “How are you today, Abby? You look well.”
“I’ve been feeling better,” I admitted, and it was the truth. “I’m still having nightmares, but the days are getting easier. A little less…long.”
Maya tilted her head to one side. “Tell me about your nightmares.”
My eyes closed as vivid images played across my mind like I was watching a horror movie. Ugly, horrible images. I’d been having night terrors for years—mostly about my parents. But, recently, they’d involved Cappy and his angry eyes.
The dreams always felt so real. I would wake up panting, soaking wet, unable to tell if I was damp from sweat or tears.
I swallowed back the fearful lump in my throat.
“Last night he was in my room. He was sitting in the corner of the bedroom, and all I could see were the embers of his cigarette butt.” I sucked in a quivering breath, fisting the fabric of my sundress.
“He didn’t speak to me, but that only made it worse.
He was just sitting there, watching me. Waiting. ”
“Do you have trouble falling asleep?” Maya wondered, jotting down notes.
I shrugged. “Sometimes. I usually fall asleep okay, but I can never stay asleep. I wake up every few hours after a nightmare.”
She nodded slowly. “I’m going to prescribe you Trazadone. It should help with the PTSD-related nightmares.”
Silence filled the room.
I didn’t want medication. I didn’t want to be drugged.
“Tell me what’s been helping you get through the days. What keeps you distracted? What makes you smile?” Maya continued.
I closed my eyes again, allowing the darkness to scatter. “Photography. It feels great picking my camera back up again. Also, I put an offer in on a house. I’m excited to make it my own.” A smile crested as I imagined the new adventures that awaited me.
“I’m so happy for you,” she said kindly. “What else?”
My grin broadened as my thoughts drifted to Cooper. “I know it’s weird, but…Cooper and I have become closer. He’s so kind and caring and—”
“Hot?”
My head snapped up, startled by Maya’s bluntness. “Oh. Um…I, uh, haven’t really noticed.”
I ducked my head at the blatant lie.
Maya chuckled. “Considering you haven’t mentioned anything about vision problems, I’m going to chalk that up to being modest.” She shifted in her chair, seemingly mulling over her next words.
“Abby…you know Officer McAllister could get into a lot of trouble if you were to pursue him in that way. He could lose his badge.”
“What?” I gaped at her, my chest tightening. I knew my feelings were complicated, but my mind had never gone in that direction.
“Yes,” Maya said. “You’re at the center of his investigation. It’s a conflict of interest.”
“I…I didn’t realize. I mean, it’s not like anything has happened.
We’re just friends. And I doubt he even thinks about me like that.
He’s just been so dedicated, you know?” My eyes were glued to my tightly folded hands, unable to meet Maya’s hard gaze.
“Anyway, it’s silly. Nothing is going to happen. ”
“Good,” Maya chirped. “I’d hate for him to get into any sort of trouble. He’s a good cop.”
I felt itchy and mildly ashamed by Maya’s words. Like a scolded child. I slunk back against the loveseat, hoping the cushions would gobble me up. “Sorry. You’re right.”
“Don’t be sorry, Abby.” Her perfect features remained soft and unruffled. “It’s normal. He’s a very handsome man in a position of power. He’s also the officer who rescued you. I would just hate for you to get your heart broken after all the progress you’ve made.”
“Oh. You think…you think he wouldn’t be interested in someone like me?” My cheeks grew hot. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear Maya’s answer.
Not that it mattered.
Maya blinked, gathering her thoughts. She pulled her lips between her teeth and flicked the end of the pen against her notepad.
“Abby, you’re a lovely girl. I just don’t really think you’re…
well, you know. His type.” She smiled warmly to soften the sting.
“And I don’t mean that to offend you. I think you need to concentrate on your own well-being before getting involved with someone else.
You’ve come a long way, but you’re still fragile. ”
My heart seized
It felt like Maya had jabbed her shiny pink claws into the tender organ and squeezed as hard as she could.
Not his type.
No. I supposed I wasn’t.
A man like Cooper McAllister had much higher standards than a damaged trauma victim with oodles of post-traumatic stress and more baggage than those luggage carousels at the airport.
Maybe Cooper wasn’t necessarily dedicated to me—he was just dedicated to closing my case.
Doing his job.
Perhaps our stolen moments and longing looks had been one-sided.
Maybe…Cooper was just being nice.
Jordan had stayed with me for over a decade out of pity.
Abigail Stone: the moody rich girl with no friends. The outcast. The orphan.
I fought back tears and tried to collect myself.
Maya was right. As much as her words felt like tiny daggers to all my sweet, magical daydreams, she was right. I needed to squash my feelings fast.
Cooper McAllister deserved better.
Cooper
Dad was right—The Crow Bar was packed.
My father had run out to get more ice, leaving us temporarily short-handed. I was frazzled as I tried to keep up with drink orders, while simultaneously training the new bartender, Lana.
Lana was a cute college girl with a honey-blonde bob and big doe eyes. While she came across as shy and innocent, her flirting game was on point, and the intoxicated male customers were eating it right up.
“Shit,” she cursed, waving her hands with frustration in front of the register. “I’m so sorry, Cooper. Can you fix this? I rang up this Mai Tai as a Miller Lite.” She jutted out her bottom lip for added effect.
I smiled as I approached, tapping a few keys and re-inputting the order. Her kiwi perfume reminded me of the fact that it had been a damn long time since I’d had a woman in my life.