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Hurting Everleigh... He’d rather die saving her life than cause her any more pain.
Downstairs was completely quiet, uninhabited when he got there, and he did a quick about-face, running back up the stairs to see that her door was closed. And he could hear movement on the other side.
She was still there.
Breathing a quick sigh of relief, he hightailed it for his coffee before he had to share the kitchen with her, and then holed up in his office.
He had plans to make, and then people to get with, in order to keep her safe, in order to have a team ready to save her, in the event that their visit to her house that day did bring her killer out after her.
With the warning having been sent, the perp was going to be watching to see if Everleigh complied and left town. And be agitated to find out that she had not.
Everleigh Emerson was not going to die that day. He’d die first. He’d die for her.
They might not have sex again, but he would always care about her.
He had an email from Bryce, who’d looped in Troy and Melissa. He still hadn’t located Tatiana Davison, the murderer’s daughter. They had to find Len Davison, before his next kill. And hopefully before the townspeople got wind that there was a criminal in their midst. They’d already lost enough faith in their law-enforcement department.
Troy responded that they’d made no progress on finding Randall Bowe.
Hitting Reply, Clarke’s fingers flew across the keyboard. With some help from Ellie the night before, he’d done a thorough workup on Davison’s two victims, as Melissa had asked. And proceeded to give the team more than they probably needed in terms of life histories, to conclude with the only information they really needed. Other than their ages and being unfortunate enough to both walk their dogs in the same park, there didn’t seem to be any connection between the two. Which made it more difficult to predict, and thus maybe be able to protect, Davison’s next victim.
By the time he hit Send on that one, he could hear Everleigh in the kitchen. And soon smelled bacon, too, whetting his appetite.
This woman seemed to have a knack for that.
And it just might be the death of him.
* * *
Turned out Everleigh wasn’t a one-and-done kind of woman. She’d wanted to be. Had honestly thought she could be. But when, just before dawn, she’d woken up next to Clarke Colton, and the flood of emotion had entangled her, she’d known she was in trouble.
All she’d wanted to do, the only thing that had sounded right to her, was to cuddle up next to him and go back to sleep.
So, she’d quietly left his bed and retreated to her own world as much as circumstances and being trapped in his condo would allow.
She’d showered. And started to research what it would take to open her own salon and spa. She didn’t need a cosmetology license to own the business, which surprised her, but she wanted one.
She wanted to be a stylist, too. She didn’t just want to run the salon. She wanted to have clients of her own. To make people feel good about themselves. To pamper them. She knew firsthand how easy it was for anyone to lose faith in their value. To allow themselves to be used, in the name of being a good spouse or family member, without asking for the time and space for the self-care they also needed.
She’d been cutting hair at the center, and for her mom and grandmother, for years. For some friends, too. She’d had no formal training, but she’d watched a lot of videos. And just liked to fool with hair. With different styles.
So, she looked at the nearest beauty school, found out she could be licensed in just ten months. And felt stronger. More in control of her life. Like she had a purpose.
And wanted to run downstairs and tell Clarke what she’d found out. Tell him she was going to get things started with the building she owned downtown. Ask him if he knew a good business attorney.
A lot needed to be done: get the place licensed; contract work, acquire permits and schedule inspections...but that could all be going on while she was in school. It wasn’t unrealistic to think that within a year she could be open for business.
But she couldn’t go running to Clarke Colton.
She couldn’t need him, want him or count on him.
They’d made an agreement. She was still a woman who stuck by her word. She hoped to always be that woman.
And yet...she was a woman who didn’t trust her own judgment where the people in her life were concerned. But life was still good. The future promising. Gram had listened to Clarke. There was a chance she’d think about the plea agreement. For the first time in her life, Everleigh had more money than she needed—or would the following Tuesday, when the life-insurance money entered her account. And she had a plan for her future that actually excited her.
A plan that included turning into the woman she’d always wanted to be.
She could do this.
