5. Jaxson
CHAPTER 5
Jaxson
A fter a late night of helping Margot around the B&B, working as quietly as we could so as not to disturb sleeping guests, I’d slept better than I have in years. Add to that the great run I just wrapped up and a morning of watching the sun rise, and my mood is pretty solid.
I also received an email late last night from the Finches thanking me again for finding Kleo, and an update that she is back to her normal self, though she did promise to take things easy in the near future.
God was watching over her, and I pray He continues to do so.
With the stress having melted off of me, I head up the steps toward the B&B. Margot will be up by now and probably having a cup of coffee, and if I time it right, I might get to enjoy a bit of her company before having to shower and head into the office to start my day .
Maybe she’ll have a better one too. It is a fresh day, after all, and she certainly seemed to be in better spirits when we’d finally called it a night.
I open the door and stop dead in my tracks when I hear the voice of the man standing across from the check-in desk, engaged in a conversation with Margot.
I’ll never forget the sound of his voice. Not as long as I live.
“What are you doing here?” I demand.
Margot’s gaze lifts to mine, her expression confused.
The man turns to face me, his face aged, yet somehow still the exact same. “Hi, Jax.”
“You two know each other?” Margot asks curiously. Her gaze flickers from him to me, then back to him.
“This is Bradley Payne,” I tell her, then turn my attention back to him. “You’re forcing me to repeat my question. Why are you here?”
“I want to talk to you.”
“And I want nothing to do with you. Get out.”
“Jaxson.”
“No.”
“I’m not leaving until you talk to me. So I can either sit right here in this kind woman’s lobby until you do, or we can get this out of the way now.”
I would love to call him on it. See just how long he’d be willing to sit here before running out like he did last time. But the last thing Margot needs is a scene made in the lobby of her B&B. “Fine. You have two minutes.” I turn and head toward the door .
Because I don’t want her to see my anger, I don’t look at Margot as I walk past the desk and back outside, into the early morning. I don’t bother to hold the door for Bradley as he follows me out, nor do I look back at him as I head across the small parking lot and toward the top of the steps I’d happily climbed mere minutes ago.
“It’s good to see you, son,” he says.
“No. You don’t get to call me that.” I turn to face him. I stand an inch taller than him now, and he’s far slimmer than I remember him being. Then again, maybe that was the terrified boy I’d been, looking up at a man he saw as a monster.
“You’re my blood,” he replies.
“Which meant nothing to you then, and it means nothing to me now.”
“Tyler and I have made amends.”
“Tyler wasn’t the one you nearly beat to death.” I snarl, taking a step closer. “Tyler wasn’t the one who had to step up and be a man and provider at the age of sixteen because you and Elizabeth couldn’t bother to be parents.”
“I was out of my mind drunk when I did that,” he says. “I never would have put hands on you sober.”
“And that makes it better?” I have to take a deep breath. Please, God, help me control my anger before I do something I will regret. “Either way, it doesn’t matter. It’s in the past. I’ve moved on, and I suggest you do the same.”
“I want to apologize. I want to make things right.”
“Fine. You’re forgiven. Now leave me alone.” I start past him, and he wraps a hand around my arm. I freeze in place as fresh anger washes over me. “I suggest you take your hand off of me, Bradley. I am not the boy I was the last time you grabbed me like that.”
He lets me go, then shoves both hands into his pockets. “I just want to make amends.”
“There are no amends to be made,” I reply. “I’ve forgiven you because it’s what I’m supposed to do. Truth is, I did a long time ago. But that doesn’t mean I have to have you in my life.”
Hazel eyes, so like my own, fill with tears. “I’m dying.”
The confession hits me harder than I’d have guessed it would. “Then take your deathbed confession to a preacher, Bradley. Get right with God, and leave me be.” I push past him and back into the B&B, leaving him standing down by the cliffside.
My chest feels like someone dropped an anvil on it, so I don’t even notice that Margot has followed me into my apartment until I’m turning to close the door and she’s moving inside.
“I am so sorry. I didn’t know his name. We hadn’t gotten that far. He just came in asking for a room and we got to talking about the beach and—” She stops talking and stares up at me. “I am so sorry, Jaxson. I never would have let him in the door if I’d known who he was.”
But we both know she would have. Not to hurt me, but Margot is far too kind to close the door fully on anyone. It’s why Chad has managed to get a foot back into it.
“It’s not your fault.” I head over to the small mini fridge and withdraw a bottle of water. She shakes her head when I offer her one.
“Are you okay? What did he want?”
I haven’t told her anything about my past until last night, and I’ve no plans to start opening myself up further. Not when the wounds are far too raw from being ripped right open this morning. “We had a falling out, and now he’s dying and trying to get back in my good graces.”
She covers her mouth with a hand and her eyes go wide. “Oh, Jaxson, I am so sorry!” Before I can stop her—not that I would—she wraps both arms around me and holds on. Slowly, I return the affection, mainly because holding her feels as familiar as breathing, even if this is the first time.
I never want it to end.
She pulls away and looks up at me. “Are you okay? Do you need to talk?”
“I’m—” My phone rings, the shrill tone cutting through the moment. I start to ignore it, but then see Lance’s name on the readout. “Payne,” I answer gruffly.
“We’ve got a break-in at the Pillar residence. Can you meet me at her place?”
“Sure thing.” I end the call. “I’m sorry, work calls. I have to go.”
Margot smiles softly at me. “I’m here if you need me, Jaxson. I hear venting is what friends do for each other.”
Her repeating words I spoke to her just yesterday warms my heart. “I know. Thanks.”
She offers me a smile, then leaves my room, shutting the door behind her. I continue staring after it, recalling the way her arms felt around me. The way holding her made it feel—just for a moment—like everything was right with the world.
“I didn’t notice anything,” Emigh Pillar says as she bounces a baby on her hip. Her blonde hair is twisted up in a messy bun, and she’s still wearing her scrubs from her shift at the hospital.
She’s a single mother, her daughter just turning one. She lives alone, so no one set off the alarm by accident, and as far as she knows, no one was trying to get in. “It just started going off, so I grabbed Ollie and ran into the closet to get my gun.”
“Elijah is running security camera footage now,” Lance tells her as he closes his notepad.
“We didn’t see anything when we pulled up,” Deputy Wallace says. He was Lance’s first call since they’re closer than we were. “No one was fleeing the house, and we were here within minutes once we got your call.”
“I’m going to take another walk outside,” I tell them, then head out the front. According to Elijah, it was a window tamper alarm that went off first, so I head around the back of the house through a side gate.
The yard is small, though green. There is no mud, so no footprints to track, and the gate that backs up to a creek is locked from the inside. So either it’s a faulty sensor, or someone managed to get in and out of the back or side gate undetected.
I start at the window closest to the side entry gate, noting that there are no signs of tampering.
Then I creep along the side of the house, checking the windows, looking into the living room and the half bathroom.
It’s not until I reach Ollie’s window that I sense something off. The curtains are partially open, so I can clearly see the crib and a basket of toys on the rug in the center of the room.
Slipping a glove onto my hand, I lean in closer, noting tiny scratch marks on the corners of the windows, right near the sensors. To set them off, the perpetrator doesn’t even have to fully open the window. Any type of unnatural vibration will set them off.
If someone tries to pry the window open? The alarm goes off before they manage to make progress.
Which is exactly what looks like happened here. I turn in a slow circle, trying to track the easiest route out of here. Maybe they got caught on a branch as they were fleeing the scene. Definitely hoping for some DNA or torn fabric. Anything that could lead us closer to whoever was trying to get into baby Ollie’s window.
My stomach churns with unease.
How sick do you have to be to target an innocent child?
Or was it the mother they were after, and they figured the baby’s room was the easiest way in?
Using the half wall to hoist myself up over the fence, I drop down onto the other side near the creek bed. Here, the trees and brush are thick, but there are a few paths that teens are likely using to sneak in and out of houses.
I turn toward the gate—and freeze in place.
Taped to the outside of the gate is a two of hearts.
My blood runs cold, every single nerve in my body firing at once. I draw my weapon, then reach into my pocket with my free hand and call Lance. It’s all I can do to keep my movements steady.
“What is it?”
“Get the key and come out the back gate. Now. Keep Emigh inside with the deputy.”
He doesn’t ask questions. Doesn’t demand clarification. “On it.” The call ends, and I shove the phone back into my pocket as I study the tree line. Is the person who left this watching me now? Admiring the fact that they got my attention?
“I’m going to find you,” I call out to whoever left the card. “This will not end well for you.”
“You good?” Lance calls out from the other side of the gate.
“Yeah. Don’t open it yet.” I turn back toward the gate, scanning the sides, top, and bottom for any kind of trap, then call out, “Okay, you’re good.”
Lance unlocks the gate and opens it slowly. His gaze lands on the playing card. “What is that?”
“It’s the calling card of a serial killer I put away. He was my last case before I moved out here. Every card we found was one more than the last. He used them to count his victims.”
But why leave it here? Is he trying to get my attention? Freak me out? Or is this just the way it starts?
“Do you think this is him?” Lance questions.
“I don’t know. He’s serving multiple life sentences, and I haven’t heard anything about an escape.” I make a mental note to call my former partner Alaric as soon as we leave.
“It’s possible it’s a copycat.”
“The calling card was never made public,” I tell him. “The only people who knew about it—aside from him—were me, my partner, and the DA.”
“He could have told someone.”
Somehow, the idea that there’s a second killer on the loose is even more sickening than the idea that Gil Morah got out. The former high school band instructor managed to fly under the radar for months, but now that I’ve caught him once, I know every move he would make.
If it’s him, I have every confidence that I’ll find him quickly.
However, if this is a new killer, someone who’s only using the calling card and going after—“Blondes.” I look at Lance. “Morah went after blondes.”
“Emigh is blonde.”
“So is Kleo.”
“Kleo? The doctor said she was hypoglycemic.”
“But what if she’s not? What if he drugged her somehow. ”
“You said the guy is a killer, though. So far, no one is dead.”
I look at the card, noting the number two printed in bright red ink. “So far,” I say. “But if this is Morah or someone like him, it won’t stay that way for long.”
With Emigh agreeing to stay with her parents, and Deputy Wallace putting patrols on their house, I finally feel at ease enough to leave and head back to the B&B. Where I’ve been sitting in the parking lot for the last ten minutes, going over every note I wrote down about Kleo Finch’s disappearance and the attempted break-in at Emigh Pillar’s house.
Though the more I look at the photos I took of the window, the more I don’t think it was an attempted break-in at all. They are too meticulous. Scratches made with the sharp edge of something without bothering to pry at the actual window.
I think whoever did it was trying to set the alarm off to get my attention.
My gut is telling me that whoever is doing this is toying with me. Trying to get me hyper focused on them so I’ll miss something.
But what?
Is it possible Kleo wasn’t number one, and I’ve yet to find whoever he went after first? Elijah is looking into missing women who match the description of those he used to target.
My cell rings, so I withdraw it and breathe a sigh of relief at the name on the screen. “Thanks for calling me back,” I answer.
“Yeah, of course,” my old partner, Alaric Newman, replies. We’d worked side-by-side for nearly a decade before I left LA behind to move out here and join Knight Security. “How are things in your tiny town?”
“Busy. You?”
“Not bad,” he replies. “Wrenley is pregnant again, this time with twins, so we’re prepping the house.”
I laugh. “You did always say you wanted a soccer team.”
“You ain’t lying, my friend. I’m well on my way there.” He laughs. “So what’s up? Your message sounded urgent.”
“We’ve had a two of hearts playing card left taped to a gate at the scene of an attempted break-in.”
Alaric mutters something under his breath. “Copycat?”
“I don’t see how. Unless Morah has had visitors in prison or managed to recruit someone before we caught him.”
“I can look into that for you. Pull visitor’s logs and everything at the prison. How many bodies?”
“None so far. We only found the one card, but we had a possible kidnapping victim who was found unconscious on the side of a road in some brush and an attempted break-in.”
“Which is where you found the card. ”
“Yeah.” I’m operating on the understanding that Kleo was likely victim number one. Maybe he got interrupted before he could grab her. Or maybe she was a way to draw me out—I’m not sure. But I can’t help but believe they are connected.
They have to be.
“No bodies, this isn’t like Morah.”
“I don’t think whoever is doing this is trying to kill anyone. Not yet, anyway. I think they’re toying with me.”
“Brought some LA to small-town Maine, huh?”
My stomach twists. “Apparently.”
“Well, listen, I’ll look into it for you and let you know what I find.”
“I appreciate that. Thanks. Good to talk to you.”
“You, too. Try to call me for something other than a case now and then, yeah?”
I chuckle. “Sure thing. Talk soon. Tell Wren I said hi.” I end the call and take a deep breath before climbing out of my truck and locking the door, then unlocking the front door of the B&B. Since it’s well past eleven at night, Margot has closed everything down, so I’m quiet as I make my way into the kitchen.
A bright green sticky note stuck to the counter catches my eye. With a grin, I lift it, reading Margot’s familiar handwriting.
You didn’t make it home for dinner, so there’s leftover spaghetti in the fridge. I also grabbed a pie from Kira’s Bakery and managed to save you a piece. Enjoy! -Margot
The stress of the day melts away at the mere idea that she was thinking about me after what happened this morning with Bradley. And, with a smile still on my face, I head down the hall and toward her office where I still see a light.
My affection for her grows when I move into her office space and see her sleeping at her desk, her head down, the black-rimmed glasses she occasionally wears partially off of her face. Her hair is braided over her shoulder, and she’s wearing green flannel pants and a sweatshirt.
She’s beautiful.
Perfect.
It nearly hurts me to see. Moving forward quietly, I stop beside her, then glance down briefly at what she was working on.
I see a manila folder open with the papers Chad brought to her, as well as a list of bills written on a tablet, alongside a bunch of outstanding notices beside her. My heart aches when I note the total cost circled at the bottom. Twelve thousand dollars. Is she struggling more than she let on? She’d had to let go of what little staff she had, I knew that, but is it worse than I thought?
My thoughts drift to the bank account I’ve been saving money to buy my own place. I could help her. Offer to cover the cost and just stay here for a bit longer. But Margot is prideful. Would she accept my help?
And how would I even begin to offer it?
Reaching forward, I finish removing her glasses. She groans and turns into my touch, and I still, not wanting the moment to end .
How I would love to gather her into my arms and sleep right beside her.
But I can’t. She’s not for me.
I should leave her here, cover her with a blanket and go up to my apartment to take an ice-cold shower. No, colder than ice-cold. Is that a thing?
But I remember the last time she fell asleep in here she ended up with a tension headache that lasted her three days.
So, even as a voice in my head is screaming danger , I reach down and gather her into my arms. As I do, she groans and comes half awake. “Jaxson?”
“Hey, you fell asleep in your office. I’m just taking you to your apartment.”
“Oh, okay.” Half asleep, she loops an arm around my neck and lays her head against my chest. I want this. Forever. “Did you get the pie?”
I chuckle. “Not yet.”
“It’s really good.” She’s still half asleep, so her voice is a bit more gravelly than normal. What I would give to listen to her talk forever.
Carefully, I shift her enough so I can grab the keys off her desk, then make my way through the back of her office. I carefully shift her again so that I can unlock the door without waking Matty up.
Quietly closing the door with my foot, I carry her through her living room and into the back bedroom that serves as her space. I can smell her lavender shampoo the moment I step across the threshold, and desire churns in my gut.
I set Margot on top of her bed, then cover her with a blanket and start to back away. I need space. Distance. Fresh air. Because right now, being in her space, my mind is a foggy mess. I could lean down and kiss her right now, press my lips to hers for just a taste.
But that wouldn’t be what either of us needs.
“Wait.” She grips my hand, and I stop walking. I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. The feel of her slender fingers against my calloused palm is too much. Too overwhelming. “Did you see the pie?” she asks again.
“I saw the note. Thanks.”
“Yeah.” A bit more awake now, she releases me and stretches with a yawn. “There’s spaghetti too. I can heat you up some.” She starts to move the blanket, but I quickly cover her hand to stop her.
“I can do it. You get some sleep.”
Her gaze narrows on me. “Is everything okay?”
I long to ask her about the bills piling up. About letting me help shoulder some of this burden, but I’m not sure now is the best time. So, I ignore the warning bells going off in my mind and reach forward to brush the hair from her face. “It will be.”
Her lips part.
The thought of kissing her assaults me again.
I swallow hard and pull away. “Goodnight, Margot.”
“You really think this could be the same guy?” Lance asks as he swings on the heavy bag I’m holding.
“It’s possible.” I step away to grab a swig of water, and Lance does the same. “But my old partner is a great cop. If there’s a link, he’ll find it.”
“Elijah is looking into it, too. He’s trying to see if he can find any connections between our current cases and your old ones.”
“Great.” I take a seat on the edge of a stool. “If I brought trouble here?—”
“Don’t take too much credit,” Lance replies. “Trouble was always here.” He smiles at me, trying to put my mind at ease, but all it does is cement my fears. Lance is the best guy I know. The man lives his life by faith. Walking with God and trying to do everything according to His plan. He’s a brand-new dad though. What if the danger I brought here puts his family at risk?
“Not like this.”
“It’ll all be okay,” Lance says. “God has a plan, and He will guide us where we need to go.”
“I wish I had your faith.”
“You do have my faith. You’re just struggling to hold on to it right now because you’re distracted by the worry.” He clasps me on the back. “How are things with Margot?”
“What do you mean?”
Lance arches a brow. “Michael may be blind when it comes to your interest in his little sister, but I’m not. I see the way you look at her.”
“She’s Michael’s younger sister. ”
“And she’s a grown woman with her own feelings.”
“No. I’m not going there.”
“But you care for her.”
“Of course I do. She’s a good person. She deserves to be happy. We’re—friends.” I couldn’t help the hesitation, and I know Lance didn’t miss it.
“You deserve to be happy, too, Jax. You’re one of the best men I know.”
“I’m divorced.”
“Remember after Eliza’s lighthouse burned down and we had that drive for her at the church? You called me out for my feelings for her even as I tried to deny them.”
“Because you were wearing them on your face. So was she.”
“And I’m only returning the favor. Anyone around you two more than five seconds can sense a connection, Jax.”
“We’re friends. I’m not looking for a relationship. Not after everything Rosalie put me through.”
“Not every woman is out to break your heart.”
“She didn’t just break my heart. She broke me. I was still in a wheelchair when she left me.” Lance doesn’t respond. “I had to sign divorce papers while not knowing if I would ever walk again.”
“I’m sorry, man. But she wasn’t your only chance at love. If you care for Margot, then don’t you think you deserve to know if she feels the same?”
“Bradley Payne showed up at the B&B,” I blurt. Partly to change the subject, and partly because I’m really struggling with letting go of what he told me, and I’m not sure how to go about moving forward with my life now knowing what I do.
“Your dad?”
“Bradley,” I correct. “But yeah.” I take a swig of my water bottle.
“What did he want?”
“To make amends and tell me he’s dying.”
“Man.” Lance shakes his head. “You okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I haven’t seen or spoken to the man since he abandoned Tyler and me. I couldn’t care less.”
“That’s not true, and we both know it.”
Always one to call me out when I’m trying to glaze over something, Lance doesn’t let me get away with that one. “Fine. I don’t know why I care.”
“He’s your dad. Good or bad, that’s a fact that carries its own weight.”
“I don’t want anything to do with him.”
“I believe that,” Lance replies. “But that doesn’t mean you have to carry the heaviness of anger around with you.”
After taking another drink of water, I set my bottle aside. “There was a time I wanted so badly to beat him bloody.” The admission feels like a weight off of me. “Honestly, had this happened before I actively started to grow in my faith, I might have.”
Lance lets out a laugh. “I guess there’s a reason God timed it for now. ”
“Maybe.” I take a seat on a bench ringside. “I don’t want to be angry.”
“Then give it to God,” he replies. “Pray about it, and do what you need to do in order to move past it. We can’t change what’s happened to us in the past, but we can open our hearts so God can heal them.”
“It all sounds so easy when you say it.”
“It’s not,” Lance replies with a laugh. “It will be one of the hardest things you’ve ever done. But it’s worth it.”