22. Andie
Inever wanted to face off with my past. I wanted to bury it. Somewhere deep down in the dark, where it would never resurface.
But here I am, walking into the sheriff’s office, Elijah at my side. He’s been quiet since we left the house this morning, and I can’t tell if it’s because of this meeting or the fact that we’ll be making the flight to New York this afternoon.
I risk a glance up at him, my gaze traveling over the strength of his stubble-covered jaw, the soft lips I’ve begun to crave. How am I falling so hard so fast? Didn’t I learn my lesson?
“Are you okay?”
“Not particularly.” I press a hand to my stomach. “I feel like I might be sick.”
He threads his fingers through mine but doesn’t say anything aloud. Yet, the message is so powerful it’s as though he spoke it. You are not alone. I am here.
He has to release my hand as we move through the metal detector and he turns in his firearm. Then he takes my hand again as we make our way over to Lance, who is standing outside a door, talking to Sheriff Vick.
A uniformed officer stands just outside a white door.
“He’s in there,” Lance says, gesturing to it.
“There’s a viewing window so we can watch,” the sheriff tells me then points to a door directly to the left of the guarded one. “You won’t be alone.”
My stomach twists, nerves burning me up. He probably killed my mother. Was possibly behind the trashing of my gran’s house. Yet, here I go, stepping into a room—alone—with him. What could go wrong?
“I will be fine.” I take a deep breath.
Lance offers me a tight smile then walks through a door alongside the sheriff while I remain outside the white door that separates me from the man who derailed my life with a charming smile and empty promises.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to go in there with you?” Elijah asks.
“He won’t talk if you’re in there. He’s threatened by you.”
“Good.”
I swallow hard. “Before yesterday, I hadn’t seen him since the night before he left me.”
“You don’t have to do this,” he says.
Tilting my face, I look up into his kind, hazel eyes. “I do need to do this.”
Elijah grips my chin then leans down and presses his lips tenderly to mine. “I’ll be just on the other side of that glass. One word and I’ll be there.”
“Thank you.”
With a final nod, he slips into the viewing room. As I approach the door, the deputy smiles kindly.
“Yell and I’ll come in,” he says. “One loud word and it’ll only take me seconds to get to you.”
“Thank you. I’m ready.”
He opens it to let me inside.
The room has bright white walls with LED lights overhead, and a table sits in the center, bolted to the floor, George’s hands cuffed to the top. As I make my way over to the chairs across from him, my legs turn to jelly.
His eyes are on me.
Focused intently on every move I make, but I don’t meet his gaze until I’m seated.
“Annie, I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Andie,” I correct him.
“That’s not fitting for you,” he says softly, using the cajoling tone he always employed when I was in school. He’d spoken so softly to me, making me think that he was the only one who cared about me. “You’re too feminine. To soft. Haven’t I told you that?”
“I’m not soft,” I reply, honestly surprised that I believe it. “Did you kill my mother?”
His brows draw together. “You know I’m not capable of violence.”
It’s true. In the entire time I knew him, he never once had an outburst of anger. No, George was always too calm for that. His words were too carefully chosen. “You were seen at the place she was later found dead.”
“I would never hurt your mother. I would never do anything to hurt you.”
“Except saddle me with a mountain of debt and an apartment I couldn’t afford.”
He drops his head to stare down at his lap a moment before looking back at me, expression twisted in shame. It was a look that worked on me whenever I began to question his whereabouts or asked to go home to visit. The man could control me with a single glance.
“Annie, you’ll never know how sorry I am for what I did. I was so afraid though. So worried about you seeing that you were too good for me. So I ran. I got scared, and I ran.”
“You ran because you’re a predator,” I tell him. “And I got too old for you.”
George’s mask slips for just a second—long enough that I see pure rage on his face. In that moment, he reminds me more of his brother than ever. “If I’m a predator, then you’re a home-wrecker. Just like they always said you were. Showing up in class, wearing tight jeans. What was I supposed to do? I’m a man!”
“I was young!” I yell, slamming my hands on the table. He jumps. “I was fifteen when you first whispered into my ear. Do you remember that?” My stomach rolls. “A fifteen-year-old sophomore who should have been safe with her teachers. But you told me how mature I looked. How grown I was and that I should leave my hair down because it was so beautiful.” I gesture to the hair I’ve never kept longer than my shoulders since. “You’re the reason I keep it short. Because I know you loved it long.” Tears burn in the corners of my eyes. Shed for the girl I’d been.
“I didn’t touch you until you were eighteen,” he counters.
“No. We didn’t share a bed until I was eighteen. But you did plenty before then.” I want to vomit. To scream. To slam my fist into his face over and over again until he’s no longer handsome enough to charm anyone. Dear God, be with me. Give me strength. I take a deep breath.
“I’m not here to debate any of that with you. The fact is I made my choices, and I live with the consequences.” I meet his gaze. “What I want to know is whether or not you killed my mother or had anything to do with the library or my grandmother’s house being trashed.”
“He’s going to leave you too, you know.”
“What?”
“Breeth. He’s going to get tired of you. And when he does, he’s going to leave you too. And you’ll be all alone, wishing that you’d come running to me when I opened my arms.”
Anger sings in my veins, so I lean in closer. “I don’t see you opening your arms, George, because they’re currently handcuffed to a table. Have you forgotten you’re being charged with the murder of my mother?” I shove my own insecurities over this newfound—whatever it is—with Elijah and focus intently on George.
He glares at me, the mask he’s worn for so many years slipping off. “I didn’t kill anyone.”
“Then why were you at my grandmother’s house?”
“I told you. I’ve been looking for you. I called a few months ago, and your assistant wouldn’t put me through. I tried to get ahold of you through your grandmother, but that old woman wouldn’t give me the time of day.”
Old woman. “You better watch your tongue.” I can practically feel Elijah simmering from the other side of the glass.
“That librarian too. She caught me—outside your gran’s house. Told me that I was a predator and that, if she didn’t know what God would do to me would be far worse than anything she could deal out, she’d handle me herself.” He snorts. “Stanley and I let her know what we thought about that.”
“So you trashed the library.”
“We demolished it,” he replies. “It was Stanley’s idea.”
“And the brick through my window?”
His cheeks redden. “That was Stanley. I told him not to do it. That I didn’t want to hurt you.” The mask slips back into place. “I only felt bad for leaving the way I did, and I just wanted to find a way to make it up to you. I’ve missed you.” He tries to touch my hand with his, but the handcuffs keep him in place.
“So you trashed the library and threw a brick through my window.”
“Stanley threw the brick,” he retorts.
“Why would you trash the place that mattered most to me in this world if you only wanted to make up?”
“I didn’t trash her house. The front window was Stanley. I don’t know who did the rest. And I didn’t kill Rebecca. Why would I? She was only ever supportive of us.”
I can feel the color drain from my face. “What did you just say?”
“Our paths crossed when she first got to town. She told me that she would never have kept us apart. That, if you would have listened, she’d have told you that I was good for you. That we were good for each other.”
I don’t know why I’m so shocked that she would hand me over to a man like him.
But I am.
“Fine. If you didn’t kill Rebecca, then where were you that night? Before and after you went to my grandmother’s house?”
“I was…” He sighs and shakes his head.
“Tell me, or you’re going to go away for murder, George. You’ve already confessed to multiple crimes. Don’t add murder to the list.” I try to use a bit of his game against him. “I don’t want to see you penalized for something you didn’t do.”
He smiles. “I knew you still cared.”
“Tell me,” I insist.
“I met someone online. She wanted to meet, so I went to meet her.”
“How old?” He doesn’t answer. “How old is she, George?”
“Seventeen. But it doesn’t matter because she didn’t show up anyway. I sat alone in a parking lot, waiting for her. When she didn’t arrive, I knew that I needed to follow my heart. So I went to find you.”
“Seventeen.” I shake my head angrily, trying to battle back the nausea. “You’re sick.”
“I want to love and be loved. What’s so wrong with that?”
I don’t even justify it with a response. “What about after?”
“I went to my brother’s. We had a few beers with one of his neighbors.”
His story about being with his brother and a neighbor can be easily checked, but the parking lot one will be a bit more difficult.
“So you’re saying that you didn’t kill Rebecca.”
“No. Of course not. I didn’t kill anyone. There was no one there when I showed up, and after I peeked through the window and saw all the damage, I took off. I’ve been so worried about you. Why wouldn’t you talk to me? Why wouldn’t anyone let me through? What did you tell them about me?”
“The truth.” I take a deep breath. “My assistant didn’t put you through because you’re on a no-contact list. As for my grandmother, as far as I’m concerned, you should be grateful she didn’t press charges against you.” I push up from the chair. “And as for me? I want nothing to do with you, George. You’re a sick, twisted man who preys on girls, and I’ll no longer fall victim to your game. In fact, I’ll find every way I can to keep you behind bars.”
“Don’t leave me!” he calls out. “I’m not done talking to you!”
“I’m done with you, George. If you ever manage to get out of here, don’t bother trying to contact me.” I slam the door behind me.
Elijah steps out from the viewing room alongside Lance and the sheriff. He holds me against him, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. The nearness soothes my pain.
“Do you believe him?” Lance asks Sheriff Vick.
“We need to verify his alibis.”
“Can you get him on the admission of soliciting a minor on top of the damage to the library?”
“We can. We’ll get a warrant, search his home and computer. Gather as much evidence as we can. He’ll do time.”
“Stanley too?” I ask.
“We’ll get him for breaking and entering plus vandalism,” he replies.
I swallow hard, feeling a sense of victory that he will not be able to target any other young girls.
“Are you all right?”
It takes Elijah’s words to break me out of my thoughts. I’m surprised to see that it’s just the two of us standing outside the interrogation room. When did Lance and the sheriff walk away?
“I’ll be okay. Thanks.” I smile. “I’m surprised you didn’t come barreling through the door.”
“I considered it, believe me.” He runs a hand through his hair. “But you seemed to have it pretty well handled.”
“I did okay.”
“You did great. You got his alibis. And uncovered the damage to the library and the brick through your window.”
“Not a confession for murder, though.”
“If he didn’t do it, a confession is useless because it doesn’t stop what is really going on.” Elijah reaches down and threads his fingers through mine. “But this is a win, Andie.”
As I smile up at him, the door to the interrogation room opens, and George walks out beside two uniformed officers. He sees Elijah beside me, his gaze traveling down to our joined hands, and his expression turns deadly.
It’s that change that has me doubting his insistence that he didn’t kill Rebecca. Because the way he’s looking at us makes me think that it’s possible he’s capable of murder after all.
* * *
“This isn’t necessary,”I say with a smile as Eliza offers me a mug of tea and takes a seat on the couch. Elijah, Michael, and Lance are all working on installing an even better security system in Gran’s house, so Eliza is keeping me company while they work outside.
“I know it’s not. But after hanging around with those three, I imagine you could use a little girl time.”
I laugh. “Honestly, aside from Lilly, I haven’t had many friends. Girl time is not something I’m overly familiar with.”
“Fair enough. If it helps, I’m the same way.”
I take a sip of my tea. “How long have you been in Hope Springs?”
“Almost two years,” she replies. “I came here from L.A.”
“That’s where Elijah is from, isn’t it?”
“It is,” she replies. “But we didn’t know each other from before. They’re a good bunch of men, you know.”
“They seem to be.”
“It’s hard to trust when you’ve been hurt.” The way she says it makes me wonder just what this woman has seen. “But the three of them will do anything for the people they care about. You seem to be someone they care about.”
“I hardly know them.”
“You and Elijah seem close.”
My cheeks heat. “I’m not sure what’s going on between me and Elijah,” I admit. “There’s something there, but it’s new. And he doesn’t seem overly thrilled with the idea of a relationship.”
“I wasn’t either. When I came here. Lance installed my water heater.” She chuckles. “I was so awful to him at first—I’d just gotten out of a terrible marriage and didn’t want anything to do with anyone.”
“Understandable.”
“But he was there when I needed him. Took a bullet for me—literally.”
I’d heard something about the stalker she’d dealt with, along with the near-death experience, but Elijah hadn’t gone into details. “You two are great together.”
“I never believed in soul mates,” she says. “But I do think God made us for each other.” Her grin is infectious, and I’m still smiling when Elijah steps into the room.
Our gazes meet and hold, the silent exchange between us worth well over a thousand words. Is he feeling this too? This stirring of the soul? “It’s done. No one is getting within ten feet of this house without us knowing. And the cameras are high resolution, so we’ll be able to make out features. As long as?—”
“They aren’t wearing a mask,” I finish.
“Yes.”
Michael breezes in and takes a seat on the couch beside Eliza. “While you two are living it up in the big city, we’ll monitor the place and let you know if there’s any activity.”
“Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
Lance comes into the room and walks toward Eliza. He leans down and presses his lips to the top of her head. “Ready to go, my love?”
“I am.” She stands. “We’re headed to Boston so Lance can check in with some of the clients and I can go shopping with his mother.”
“Sounds fun.”
“It is. If you need anything, you can call me. Elijah has my number. Be safe.”
As she says the words, I get this sinking feeling in my gut that whatever has been happening is only the beginning of what we’ll have to face before it’s all over.