Page 122

Because I finally confided in someone?

Or because I was here, with him close by?

Bowing my head, I close my eyes. Thank You, Lord, for this day. While I don’t understand everything that has happened to me, or why it happened, I do know that no matter my circumstances, You are good. Thank You for delivering me from that nightmare and for bringing me here. In Jesus’ name, I pray. Amen.

I open my eyes, then head into the apartment. Maverick’s space is the same floor plan as the one I am staying in, just a mirrored version. His large bed is against the far wall, perfectly made.

Did he get up early and make it?

Or did he not sleep in it?

Another wave of guilt hits me at the idea that he slept on one of the patio chairs last night. There are almost no pictures on the walls, though there is one on a bookshelf in the small dining room.

As I move in to get a closer look, the soft sound of muted voices carries through the door. Curious, I shift course and see that his front door is cracked slightly. Once again, the simple act of kindness warms my heart.

I pull the door open, expecting to see him on his cell phone. Instead, there’s another man out there with him. My heart jumps in my chest, the rest that I found last night vanishing in an instant and being replaced with a heavy dose of panic.

A man in a blue suit is standing opposite Maverick, a badge hanging on his belt. He smiles kindly at me, but I’m still trying to wrap my mind around why he’s here. I told Maverick I couldn’t go to the police.

That I didn’t trust them to protect me.

I’m ready to tell him just that when I find Maverick’s expression hard, his arms crossed. He’s not happy, either.

“Miss Eaton?” the officer says. “I’m Captain Alan Leopold with the Stormwatch Landing PD.”

“Why are you here?” I blurt. “I didn’t call you.”

“Someone from the bar did last night.” He looks at Maverick. “Can I come inside now?”

“No. I need coffee, and it’s downstairs.” He starts toward the stairs, and just the sight of him retreating has my palms sweaty with nerves.

“I’m coming.” I push out and follow him, shutting the door behind me. It’s not until I step on the cool ground just outside the apartment that I realize I have no shoes on.

Didn’t I have shoes on when I went to sleep?

Maverick shoves the door open, stepping aside and holding it open for me as I pass. But he doesn’t make eye contact with me. Why not? Is he upset because someone called the police? Because I brought trouble into his life?

Of course he’s angry about that. Why wouldn’t he be?

I continue forward, stopping only once I reach the bar. Yesterday morning, the place was in pristine condition, but today it’s a mess. The chairs are scattered, there are glossy spots on the floor from where drinks were spilled, and cups and trash litter more than half of the tables.

He didn’t have time to clean last night because of me.

More guilt slams into me. I blew into this guy’s life, and he took pity on me, only to have me leave a tornado of disaster in my wake. How is that fair?

“Sit. I’ll make coffee.” He clears part of the bar top, so I take a seat on a stool, watching him through the glass of the door as Captain Leopold stops beside me.

“We can get started now if that works for you?” he asks.

“I’d rather wait for Maverick.”

“Any particular reason?” His expression is neutral, but I’ve seen enough police procedural TV shows to know that he’s asking for a very specific reason. So, I answer honestly.

“He makes me feel safe.”

The captain nods and smiles. “Then we can wait for him.”

Minutes tick by, but Maverick still hasn’t come out yet. I shift in my chair, nerves twisting my stomach into what feels like thousands of knots.