Chapter 8
“You’re sure you’re good?”The sheriff’s headlights reflected the doubt in the man’s eyes.
Today would never be a good day. But she still had something to be thankful for. Her truck. It was found parked crooked with the back half on the curve of the road heading to the movie set. The keys still hung in the ignition. If she’d been counting the day’s answered prayers, God had been showing up. Which had to prove that He still cared for her.
Sophie threw her jack and tire iron wrench into the back of her truck. “I’m going to make it. Thanks for helping me with this.”
The moonlight sprinkled down through the branches, forming a pergola effect over the road. “I appreciate you driving me out here and helping me change the two blown tires.”
No wonder Lewis had ditched her truck. But what had the boy been thinking leaving her and Houston in the woods? Maybe he hadn’t known about the fire pressing in. More than likely, he’d been scared of getting in trouble, and he fled without thinking.
She didn’t want to, but she could sympathize with that gut reaction. She’d done it all too often herself.
The sheriff checked his watch. “I’ll follow you back into town in case you pick up another nail in your tires. You probably should stay at the emergency displacement shelter at the school tonight. I’ll head to your place first thing in the morning to check out the break-in damage and do my full report.”
“I’ll stay somewhere safe.” The last thing she wanted was to cry herself to sleep with strangers around at the high school. Once she stopped moving, the wound of losing Crispin would crash over her. She blinked quickly and pressed her palm against the pocket where his necklace hid. “First, I need to head to my other horses at the film set’s livery and check on them. They’ve been there since this morning. Not sure who last checked on them.”
The sheriff crossed his arms, stubbornness brewing in his gaze until his radio crackled on his hip. “All right. Hold on, let’s check your truck’s gas tank. Lewis could have run out of gas along with the tire issues.”
Sophie froze with her hand on the truck’s handle. “Gas…”
The motorcycle man at her front door.
She spun back around to the sheriff. “What if it wasn’t Lewis who broke into my house? He never admitted it exactly, and he claimed he was looking for his earbuds. I just assumed he was lying?—”
“You caught the boy at your house. I know you and Marley are friends and you tried to help out, but we can’t simply wish that people would do the right thing, or I’d be out of a job.”
Sophie moved a pebble on the road with the toe of her boot. “He still did plenty of wrong, but when I first arrived home this morning, there was a man at my house. I had hoped it was the bank department.” She waved that thought away. “The man did take a while to turn around to greet me. Claimed he needed gas for his motorcycle. Even knew who Lewis was, calling him Lewy. What if the man broke into my house then? I hadn’t gone inside to check before hurrying to the barn after he left. Perhaps Lewis tipped him off about something he thought was worth something? And Lewis stopped back by after the break-in; for what, I don’t know yet. Maybe the lost earbud story was the truth.”
She leaned her back against her driver’s door. “The man could have been the person who stole Crispin’s picture. Not Lewis.”
Which was actually worse.
“So you’re now thinking Lewis didn’t steal anything from your house?” When had the sheriff gotten his notebook out?
Sophie combed her fingers through her pony-tailed hair. “I never actually saw anything on his person except the necklace. Not even the photo, and when I asked him, he claimed he hadn’t taken any pictures. And hadn’t broken in. What if Lewis had just been scared of getting caught again? Couldn’t that have made him bolt?”
It probably would have made her flee. She’d begged her brother to move from Last Chance County because she was scared of all the rumors floating around about her.
The sheriff wrote in his notebook. “I won’t rule it out yet. What did this motorcycle man look like?”
Sophie covered her face with her hands. That moment felt like years ago, but it had been less than twenty-four hours. “He had blue eyes. A spotty beard that was a mixture of gray and some white along with its reddish-brown.” She pulled her hands away. “His hair was slicked back and brownish, and he wore a leather jacket with worn work boots. His Harley was older, and he had a gun half hidden on him.”
The sheriff was no longer writing anything down. “Anything special about his voice?”
Sophie straightened. “A little raspy. Not sure that’s the right word, but…you know who this man is, don’t you?”
The sheriff held his notebook up toward his headlights and circled something. “I know that if it’s him, he’s wanted for other crimes.”
“The other burglaries that have been happening around town?”
The sheriff only grunted and kept his attention on his notebook.
Something worse than burglaries then.
Sophie licked her lips. “If you can find him, I think I can ID him.”
The sheriff snapped his notebook closed. “Sophie, if you see him again, you call me immediately. The more info I’ve gathered…We don’t need that man angry at you. Especially if he thinks you know anything about what your brother could have been working on with Homeland Security.”
He was right. This could turn into the car chase all over again. But this time, she didn’t have her protector.
No, that wasn’t right. She still had God.
“I understand. I won’t go home tonight.” She hopped in her truck and turned it on.
His radio listed a code of numbers and an address. The sheriff turned it down and pointed at Sophie. “I’ve got to answer this call out. You promise you’ll go straight to the horses and back to the school?”
“After checking in at the livery, I’ll probably go to Marley’s instead of the school.”
The sheriff hesitated.
“Sir, I’ve left my horses up at the set livery for over twelve hours. They could be without water.”
His radio buzzed again. “Horses. Marley. Straight there and back. And if Lewis shows up, call me.”
Sophie nodded and got into her truck. The sheriff raced to his car, turned on his lights, and sped away.
She drove with her hands gripped on the wheel. Her bright headlights did little to shine on the unknown thoughts racing through her head. The road snaked around, and finally the dusk to dawn light at the shadowed livery called to her in the darkness ahead.
She pulled up so her headlights hit the set’s corral. They had left two of her horses outside the barn. That was not taking care of her animals. Good thing she’d returned to check on them.
Her taped ankle didn’t slow her down as she headed for the corral. A solar-powered light shined down from the roof, casting an arrangement of eerie shadows on the film set’s barn.
The air held only a hint of smoke that looked like clouds moving across the moonlight. Sophie ducked under the corral fence, and Thunderbolt stomped his foot. When she drew near, he twisted back his ears.
Sophie petted his head. “I’m so sorry. Your day hasn’t exactly been smooth either.”
The moon wasn’t bright enough to see whether the corral’s trough needed refilling. Her phone was still in the bag of rice drying out. So no flashlight.
Sophie stroked Goldie’s nose first and then moved down the line, running her hand down their legs and inspecting them for any injuries. “We’ll get you heading back inside for bed after I get you both some water and check on the others.”
Goldie let out a sigh, as if she knew exactly what Sophie was talking about.
“Don’t get too excited. You have to spend the night here.”
Though as of right now, she at least had a house and barn to return to. Unless the fire changed direction for the third time. Or maybe it was the fourth?
She closed her eyes. Her ankle’s throbbing had eased, but it ached with certain movements. As the entire day flashed bits and pieces through her mind, she glanced toward the western town set where she’d first thought she’d seen her brother. But even if someone was there, she couldn’t tell in the darkness.
But all hope wasn’t lost. Houston had prayed to find Frank. God had rescued them from the fire. He hadn’t answered her pleas in the past how she’d hoped, but that didn’t mean He wouldn’t listen now. Marley had told her not to worry until she knew for sure.
Please let Crispin be alive. Somewhere. Somehow.
Thunderbolt pressed his head against her stomach.
“Thanks, bud.” She rubbed under his ears.
Normally, this was why she’d rather be around animals than people. Animals got her. Or maybe she got them. Except being next to Houston had reminded her she was hiding from the fact that she was tired of being alone. And now with her one friend moving away…Was running a horse ranch by herself really what Sophie wanted?
After shutting the corral gate, she headed to the water spigot connected to a well just to the left of the fencing.
A stick snapped behind Sophie, and she glanced around.
Trees surrounded the barn and her. Her new, larger horse trailer was parked beside the barn where it had been blocked by a car earlier in the day. Thinking about that strange man at her house, and the break-in, had her on edge.
She didn’t need to be caught out in the open. Plus, she needed more light. She jogged back toward her truck and flipped on her headlights to bright.
This time, when Thunderbolt stomped his foot and huffed, something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye along the tree line. Whether she could see it or not, something was in the woods. But was it human or animal?
She could get in her truck and drive away, but she wasn’t about to leave her horses to face a mountain lion or some other predator. Yes, there was a man potentially looking for her, but it was more than likely an animal. One that viewed her animals as prey. She couldn’t leave until she knew for sure.
Goldie twisted her ears to the right. Sophie’s gaze followed the tree line, and this time there was something.
Or rather someone.
This silhouette of a man wasn’t the same build as the lanky teen or any of his friends. But he did have a hood pulled up to cover his head.
Sophie tightened her grip on the truck door. She was one second from hopping in and locking the doors. “What do you want?”
The man stepped into the truck’s headlights. A baseball cap peeked out of the hoodie and stole her focus.
“Lamby?” The voice croaked as if he hadn’t talked in days. Or perhaps he just hadn’t said her name in…
Three long years.
A strangled sound hiccupped from her mouth. She knew that voice.
Crispin?
She took another step toward him.
But before she could get her brother’s name out, someone else launched out of the woods. “Look out!”
The second man tackled Crispin from behind.
They both hit the dirt.
Sophie screamed.
* * *
Sometimes there wasn’t time to think.
Houston’s forearms took the brunt of the fall as both he and the man in the hoodie heading for Sophie slammed into the ground.
They landed outside the spotlight of Sophie’s truck. The tall, dry grass scratched his cheek. The man squirmed beneath him. He’d been a head taller than Houston. Broader shoulders too. But at least Houston had the surprise factor.
And surely, God would be on his side.
As Houston had been driving the curve toward the filming area, something reflected in his headlights in the woods. A bike, half hidden in a bush.
That was when the moonlight had snuck out from behind the clouds and highlighted a hooded figure watching Sophie with her horses.
The sound of Sophie’s strangled yelp coursed through his mind. “Stop!”
Houston paused, and his grip loosened. Too much.
As quick as a fire could change directions, the man twisted his body in a way that Houston had only seen professional wrestlers perform. The man spun and aimed a gun at Houston’s chest.
Houston only had time to swallow.
Sophie gasped and jumped in front of Houston. “Crispin. No!”
“Crispin?” The name released from Houston’s tongue like a prayer. He hadn’t taken his sights off of the man, whose gaze flicked to a spot behind Houston’s shoulder.
Was there someone else hiding? But the guy’s hesitation allowed Houston to step back in front of Sophie.
Crispin lowered the gun against his side but didn’t hide it out of sight.
Sophie launched toward her brother. “Crispin! I knew you were alive.”
Her brother wrapped Sophie up with the arm that wasn’t holding the gun. “Course you did. I wrote to you.”
“Until this year, and then the necklace?—”
“I did write this year.” Crispin’s eyes narrowed on Houston. “Who is this guy? Can’t be Landon. He’s shorter.”
Sophie backed up, wiping away her tears. Her shoulder brushed up against Houston, and he fisted his fingers to keep from tucking her against his side as Crispin had just gotten to do.
A half laugh, half cry came out of Sophie. “Of course it’s not Landon. He got me fired from my dream job. And how did you even know who my ex was? That was only two years ago. Where have you been for all these years?”
“You’re positive this is Crispin?” Houston said next to Sophie’s ear, and the smell of coconut from her shampoo hit his nose. Only hours ago, she’d thought him dead. Houston couldn’t recall running into her brother back in Last Chance County.
“You both need to stop saying my name.” Crispin’s voice filled with grit again.
Houston slipped his hand into Sophie’s. She stepped closer to him. A person could change a lot in the amount of time Crispin had been gone. The hoodie covering a baseball hat shielded his face in the shadows of the night. It was hard to even get a read on his eyes that were constantly scanning the area.
“It’s him.” Sophie wiped her cheeks again with her free hand. “I thought you had been burned. Well, apparently, shot. Then burned.”
Crispin tilted his head. For a moment it almost looked like there was scarring on the side of Crispin’s neck, but it was hard to tell with his scraggly beard. “Wait. Homeland told you all that?”
“No, I knew after that first postcard arrived with the sunflowers and the story only you could know, that what they’d told me was a lie.” She glanced at Houston and squeezed his hand. Then she lifted her quivering chin toward her brother. “I thought we found your body today.”
“Today?” Crispin glanced over his shoulder. “Where was this?”
“We can get to all that.” Houston moved his thumb over Sophie’s hand. “But I think it’s time for you to explain to your sister why you’re here after years of disappearance.” Houston pulled the main reason he’d driven out here over his head, Crispin’s necklace that Sophie had left behind. “And why a teen found your necklace by a dead body.”
Sophie sucked in a breath, and her hand slipped from Houston’s. The lack of her touch made him want to lean closer to her, but he stood still.
She grabbed the necklace and pulled it into her chest. “How do you have this? I put it in my pocket.”
Houston shoved his empty hands into his hotshot uniform. He didn’t make time to change before he’d run to his truck. “It was left on the office chair.”
She threaded her fingers through both rings. “And you came all the way out here.”
Was that a statement or a question? If only she’d look at him now. Apparently, his ability to read high schoolers’ tones didn’t transfer over in this moment. Had he made the right move or not?
Probably tackling her brother hadn’t helped.
Speaking of her brother, Houston lifted his brow toward Crispin. “Well?” Whatever was going on in Ember, it looked like Crispin was involved. Somehow.
The question he worried about the most was if Crispin’s latest job would make Sophie some kind of target again.
“Do you trust this guy?” Crispin’s voice pitched lower as he flicked his focus to Houston, then swept the area behind them, before finally circling back to Sophie. Who else did he think was lurking in the shadows?
Besides him.
“I’m right here. I can hear you.”
Crispin only glared.
“I do trust him.” Sophie brushed her arm against Houston’s.
Houston squinted in the darkness. The man was stalling. Which was not a good sign. “I’m pretty sure this isn’t about me.”
“If you’re connected to my sister in any way, I’m going to make it about you.”
Sophie stepped in between Houston and Crispin. “We both can trust him. This is Houston James?—”
“The guy from Last Chance County?” Crispin’s eyes snapped to hers. “The one who stood you up, forbade you from visiting him in the hospital, and embarrassed you with all the rumors?”
Houston’s arm went slack. “What rumors?”
Sophie avoided Houston’s gaze. “It was a misunderstanding back then. We’ve worked out our history.”
Sure, he’d apologized for the past, but apparently only for a part of it. “Soph, please, tell me. The rumors you faced were because of me?”
“Doesn’t matter, Houston. It’s in the past.” Sophie’s voice was quiet. Too quiet.
It was as if they were right back at the beginning of the day, with a wedge between them. Yes, he’d driven out here to make sure Sophie had her necklace. But he also wanted to what? Check on her. Be brave enough to ask her out. To finally kiss her. Do the opposite of just allowing her to walk out of his life without seeing how she truly felt about him. Again.
Because Houston had always known that Sophie was something special. And he was smart enough to pray that she’d give him another chance. Or at least a real one.
Crispin shook his head. “Once you remained in the hospital, your friends spread awful things about her. For her sake alone, I’m not going to repeat any of those lies. But they made it clear that her worth was falsely inadequate, and they claimed their information had come directly from you. So really, you were the reason she wanted to leave Last Chance County.”
“Stop, Crispin,” she whispered. “I know now they weren’t really his actual friends, and Houston’s been with me every step of the disaster that was today. I trust him. The past or not.” Her voice hitched at the end.
Houston’s knees locked beneath him. The friends they had to be talking about were the two guys that had been over at the house the night of the house fire. “No, they weren’t true friends. After the fire, they lied to the cops about even being at my house at all, let alone mentioning they’d lit a candle to light their joints while I must have passed out from the shots of whisky.” Houston swallowed down the bitterness. “My poor choices hurt not only myself but also Sophie.” And even worse, he did remember saying unkind things about her. Words he hadn’t meant. Then or now. “Sophie, I’m so sorry.”
One tear slid down her face until she turned away from him.
Her wound slammed into him harder than hitting the ground. “In my own stupid way, I’d been trying to protect you. That’s not how it seems I know, but I’d seen how those guys had treated the girls they put on their next conquest list. They had started asking about you.”
He raked his hand over his head and took a step back. “I’d been determined not to allow my lab partner?—my friend—the girl that I…” Houston swallowed. “Determined not to find you on their list.” He heaved out a sigh. “I finally explained to my brother that the house fire was my fault, and not his. How I had placed your note to meet me into Macon’s locker instead to make it look like you wanted to meet him, all so Macon wouldn’t be home when my supposed buddies came over. But I’d lied about how I hadn’t liked you, Sophie.” Oh, he had.
Houston squared his shoulders in front of Crispin. “But I knew your sister was too good for me, with all my angst and anger from my physical pain. I was a poor friend and thought sacrificing my relationship with her was the only way to get those guys to bring me their supposed healing in the forms of drugs and alcohol. I couldn’t have been more wrong.”
Crispin tsked. “Why are you still making up lies now? Those guys said you’d created those slurs before your house fire and burns. Don’t you?—”
“His nerve pain was from a failed bone marrow donation to his brother years before.” Sophie’s whisper cut through the night.
Houston hung his head. So many years of nerve pain, until God provided an experiment with electrotherapy that actually worked for him. But his agony didn’t justify his hurtful actions. “I’m sorry, Soph.” He stepped toward Sophie, but Crispin slid in between. “I-I didn’t want you to be treated like those other girls.”
Except Houston had failed to protect her.
And worse, he’d been the one to hurt Sophie more.