Chapter 32
Knox
Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting Sloane’s hospital room in sterile white light that made her skin look pale as death. I sat in the chair beside her bed, fingers laced with hers, refusing to move despite three separate nurses suggesting I wait outside.
“Blood pressure’s good,” the doctor said, unwrapping the cuff from Sloane’s arm.
“Bruising on your throat is consistent with strangulation, but your airway looks clear. I don’t see any permanent damage.
We’ve cleaned and bandaged the cuts on your hands—those were superficial and should heal without any scarring. ”
“Can I go home?” Sloane’s voice was raspy, painful-sounding, and I flinched.
“I’d prefer to keep you for observation. Head injuries, potential shock—”
“I didn’t hit my head. And I’m not in shock.” Sloane’s grip on my hand tightened. “Please. I just want to leave.”
I met the doctor’s gaze over Sloane’s head. Saw the mix of concern and understanding there.
“You’ll be with her?” the doctor asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
The older woman deliberated, then nodded. “I’ll sign the discharge papers, if you promise to take it easy for the next few days,” she told Sloane. “If you experience any measure of dizziness, nausea, or difficulty breathing, come back immediately.”
“I will. Thank you.”
Thirty minutes later, we were free.
I guided Sloane through the emergency department, past gawking staff and curious patients, into the parking lot where afternoon sun beat down with cheerful indifference to the morning’s horror.
“The missing woman?” Sloane asked as we reached my Jeep.
My jaw clenched. “Still missing. But Walter Junior’s lawyer is already working on a plea deal. He’ll tell them where she is, and if she’s still alive, he wants life in prison instead of the death penalty.”
“If she’s alive.” Sloane’s voice broke on the last word.
“They’re moving fast. There’s still a chance.
” I helped her into the passenger seat, hating how carefully she moved.
How gingerly she touched her bruised throat.
“Here.” I pulled a bottle of water from the backseat.
“Doctor said to stay hydrated. And take these.” I shook a prescription bottle. “Super strength Tylenol. Take two now.”
Sloane accepted the pills and we were on our way.
I drove toward her house on autopilot, mind replaying the moment I’d arrived to find Walter Lehman Junior attacking her. My call to her had been cut short by her attack, and I’d broken every traffic law on the island getting to her.
I never should’ve left her alone. I’d spend the rest of my life making that up to her, if she’ll let me.
Thankfully, Sloane was a fighter. She’d held him off long enough for me to get there. And I loved that about her.
Hell, I just loved her.
Pride swelled in my chest, mixing with residual terror and overwhelming relief. I was lucky just to know her. And she loved me too.
My phone rang. Nash’s name appeared on the screen.
“Yeah?” I answered, putting the call on speaker.
“Got an update,” Nash said, exhaustion heavy in his voice.
Sloane’s hand found mine, cold fingers gripping tight.
“Walter Senior’s talking,” Nash said. “Asked for a lawyer first, but he’s cooperating now. Turns out he suspected his son might be involved but didn’t want to point fingers without being certain.”
“Jesus.” I tightened my grip on the wheel.
Sloane looked at me. “That’s why he was acting so weird, wanting to help us search. He thought we’d find his kid.”
“Probably,” Nash agreed. “Senior has a long history of domestic violence with multiple restraining orders over the years. His son took it ten steps further. Stalking and abducting women across multiple states. Unlike Dad, he just never got caught.”
Sloane made a small sound beside me, and I squeezed her her hand.
“How did Sam identify him?” I asked. “If Junior’s been flying under the radar?”
“One drunk and disorderly charge eight years ago. Only thing in the system. Without that arrest photo in the database, the sketch artist would’ve had nothing to match.” Nash paused. “Sam saved the day on this one. Kid’s got a hell of an eye for detail.”
“Walter told me about his son. I never gave the detail any thought,” I said. “He told me he lived in Walla Walla.”
“According to records, he hasn’t lived there in a very long time,” Nash said.
No, he’d been hunting women along the eastern seaboard.
Sloane squeezed my fingers. “So his dad’s house was his base of operations?”
“Most recently, yes,” Nash said. “When they fought, he’d spend a night or two in the ranger station, then head back when the argument had cooled. His last known address is Oregon.”
“That’s the state on the VW bus plates,” Sloane whispered.
“Exactly,” Nash confirmed. “We’re running down every connection now. Hotels, gas stations, anywhere he might’ve stashed the latest victim. Clock’s ticking, especially if she’s somewhere outdoors.”
My jaw clenched. “Keep us posted.”
“Will do. And Knox?” Nash’s voice softened. “Nice work this week. Carolina Bay has been lucky to have you and your team with us.”
I ended the call and glanced at Sloane. Tears tracked down her cheeks, silent and devastating.
“That poor woman,” she whispered. “She’s still out there somewhere.”
“They’ll find her.” I brought her hand to my lips. “You did everything you could. You survived. You fought back. That’s what matters.”
“It doesn’t feel like enough.”
“It’s everything.” I squeezed her hand.
I pulled into her driveway a short time later and immediately regretted it. Crime scene tape crossed the door. Evidence of the violence that occurred inside.
Sloane went rigid beside me.
“I can’t,” she said. Her voice was small and broken. “I can’t go in there. Not yet.”
I was already in reverse. “Come stay with me. For as long as you need.”
“Your house?” Sloane turned to look at me. “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”
“You’re not imposing. You’re—” Everything. My future. The reason I’m staying in Carolina Bay. “I want you there. Stay until you feel safe going home. However long that takes.”
“What about my things?”
“We’ll get whatever you need later, when you’re ready.
Clothes, toiletries, your laptop. You can make a list and send Maggie.
Whatever makes you comfortable.” I reached for her hand again.
“When you’re ready to go back, I’ll make sure the place is secure.
Archer and Colton will install the glass-break sensors and night vision cameras before they finish their leave. ”
Sloane’s eyes filled with fresh tears. “Thank you.”
Within days, my mother’s house became filled with Sloane’s presence in ways that made it feel more like home than it had since Mom’s death.
Sloane’s laptop sat at the kitchen table where she worked on environmental reports.
Her coffee mug stood beside mine in the sink.
Her laughter echoed through rooms that had been silent too long.
Maggie stopped by with takeout one evening, grinning when she saw Sloane curled up on the couch with her work.
“Your mom would be delighted, you know?” Maggie said, following me into the kitchen.
“I do.”
“And she’d be proud of you. For staying. For fighting. For letting yourself have this.” She gestured around.
My eyes rose to the horizon through the kitchen window, wondering if Mom was out there watching. A smile curved my lips, because I knew she was, and that Maggie was right. She would be pleased.
“Speaking of people finding what they need….” She trailed off, picking at the edge of her thumbnail. “Can I ask you something? As someone who’s known Nash nearly as long as I have?”
“Of course.”
She glanced toward the living room, then lowered her voice. “Have you noticed anything off about him lately?”
I thought back to our interactions. Nash had been professional, focused, maybe working too hard. “He seems stressed. But he’s short-staffed with limited resources. That would stress anyone out.”
“I think it’s more than that.” Maggie’s voice dropped. “He’s been different since last summer. When Avery left.”
“Avery?”
“Yeah. She came to town looking at vacant storefronts. She got a flat tire, and Nash helped. They were inseparable from the moment they met.” Maggie shook her head.
“I’ve never seen my brother like that. They had two days together, and he was so happy.
For a minute, I thought his luck had changed. You know?”
I knew exactly what she meant. Because my luck had changed when I met Sloane. “What happened?”
Maggie shrugged. “Avery had to go back to her life in Richmond, I guess. Her job, her apartment, her whole world was there. And Nash is here, married to this badge and this island. She never came back to open that store.” Maggie’s eyes filled with worry.
“I’ve seen the way he looks at his phone, even after all these months.
The way he jumps every time it buzzes. Sometimes I think he’s hoping it’s her. But it never is.”
“Do you want me to talk to him?”
Maggie pushed off from the counter. “No. I just worry about him. I thought someone else should know. He’s always taken care of everyone else. He holds this whole community together. But who takes care of him?”
“You do,” I said. “You’re a good sister.”
“Then why do I feel like I’m watching him break, and I can’t do anything about it?
” Her voice cracked. “He thinks nobody notices, but I see it. The way he works eighteen-hour days so he doesn’t have to go home to an empty house.
He’s running from his feelings, and I don’t know how to make him stop. ”
I pulled Maggie into a hug. “Give him time. And keep being there. That’s all you can do.”
“What if time isn’t enough?”
I didn’t have an answer for that. Sometimes people missed their chances.
But looking at Sloane in my living room, I made a silent promise not to miss another moment with her.