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She nodded. “I didn’t mean my comment to sound like it did. I was just thinking how fortunate you are to have family.”
Sean frowned. “You don’t?”
“Nope. I grew up in foster care, but the high school I went to with my last foster family was in a disadvantaged area, and some rich dude set up a program in my high school for every student entering their freshman year. If the kids stayed in school, kept up their grades, and graduated without being arrested, they had a free ride to a college degree. I chose to major in business with a minor in math. I like numbers. And that’s how I became a CPA.”
Sean kept staring at her, even after she stopped talking. He couldn’t get over how familiar it felt to be with her like this.
Finally, Amalie frowned. “What? Are you debating about mentioning all my scars, or—”
“No. I keep thinking we’ve met before. The moment I saw your face, I thought I knew you. The whole time I’ve been here, I’ve been racking my brain, trying to remember.”
Amalie’s heart skipped a beat.
“That’s weird, because the moment I turned and saw you, I had the same reaction. And since you didn’t ask, the scars are from a wreck. A little over two years ago, I was sideswiped on an expressway in Tulsa, Oklahoma. I spun out into a concrete embankment. Between the shattering glass and the ensuing fire, I’m lucky to be alive.”
“Oh my God,” Sean muttered. “How did you get out?”
She shrugged. “A trucker pulled me out. It took so long to recover from the burns that the firm I was working for filled my position. I completely understood, and thought I’d just get the same job elsewhere, but it soon became apparent that getting rehired and looking like a slasher victim wasn’t going to happen.”
“People are shits,” Sean muttered, thinking of how he’d lost his job at the IT firm in Conway. “That’s why I chose to be my own boss, too. So, besides that weirdthought-I-knew-youvibe, we’ve both been judged by members of the asshole society.”
Amalie hadn’t expected his anger on her behalf, or the bawdy humor, but it delighted her, and before she knew it, she was grinning.
“Been a member long?” she asked.
Sean managed a grimace, hoping it passed for a smile. “Long enough,” he said, and then he crawled back under the desk and went to work.
Only five of the tiny cabins at Bullard’s Campgrounds were occupied this week, and of the five, only one renter was still on-site. His name was Ellis Townley—Roadie to his friends. But he hadn’t come to Jubilee as a tourist. He’d come to do a job. A job he was being well paid to do.
All he had to do was watch for an inbound chopper that would be arriving around noon, coming in from the south. And when he saw it, he was to make a call to a certain number, and when the call went through, say the words, “It’s done,” then pack up and leave.
Roadie knew there was likely something fishy about it, but a phone call was a phone call. He’d demanded the money up front. It came in cash, which he immediately deposited. A seemingly easy job for a nice chunk of change.
Due to the time of year, he had his pick of cabins, so he’d made sure to choose one with an open view to the south. He’d been outside watching all morning, and it was already past noon. He lifted the binoculars again, scanning the sky. Wherever the hell that chopper was, he wished it would hurry. It was freakin’ cold.
He had the number he was meant to call pulled up on his phone. All he would have to do was press the call button and wait for someone to pick up, deliver the message, and his job was over.
Nearly twenty more minutes passed before he saw something high in the sky on the horizon. He lifted the binoculars to check, but it was still too far away to determine if it was a plane or a helicopter, so he hesitated,waiting for a better view. Then as it came closer, the sighting was confirmed.
“Finally,” he muttered, and hit the call button, but nothing happened.
He glanced down at the phone, realized the signal was weak, and cursed.
“Fucking mountains,” he muttered, walking a little farther out into the field.
The signal was strong. He pulled up the number again. He hit Call, then watched in horror as the chopper suddenly exploded in midair.
Roadie jumped back like he’d been jabbed, then watched in growing horror as the craft began spiraling down, down, down.
“Oh hell! Oh no! What the fuck have I done?”
He couldn’t think. He couldn’t move. He just kept watching it fall until it disappeared below the tree line. It was the second explosion that sent him running for his cabin. He grabbed the bag he’d already packed, tossed it in his car, and headed for the office to check out.
Roadie made it to the office and came in, stumbling, trying not to puke.
“Ready to check out? Was everything okay?” the clerk said.
Roadie blinked. It took him a second to realize the dude had asked him a question.
