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Carl had tipped off Rupert. He must have. How Carl had discovered the truth didn’t matter, but the clock was ticking on Sean’s time in Salvation.
Two deputies and the other paramedic appeared in Sean’s periphery vision before they moved in closer and took over holding Carl down.
“You.” The paramedic nodded at Sean. “Mosey on back. We got him now. Anyway, the deputies want to take your statement. Yours too, Ms. Sweet.”
They’d made it about a few yards away when Natalie pulled him to the side. “What in the hell was that about?”
Reaching deep for his rusty acting skills, Sean forced the tension out of his shoulders and let his face relax into a neutral mask. “The guy’s out of his mind.”
“No argument there.” She eyed him suspiciously. “But there’s something to it, isn’t there?”
For half a second the truth balanced on the tip of his tongue, and with it, a redemption he hadn’t realized he’d wanted. He hadn’t trusted anyone with his real identity, not since he’d hot–wired that car and drove until the Hollywood sign was only a vague memory. Not for the millions he’d left in a bank account. Not for the easy fame and even easier women. Not for the family who’d only seen him as a paycheck. But Natalie….
Looking into her crystal–clear blue eyes half hidden behind the black–framed glasses, he couldn’t help but believe she’d understand why he’d done it.
“Howdy folks. Looks like you’ve had some excitement around here.” Gravel crunched under the deputy’s rubber–soled boots as he approached. He stopped beside them and withdrew a notepad from his shirt pocket. “Let’s get started with some names.”
Always quick on her feet, it only took a second for Natalie to refocus on the deputy. “Natalie Sweet.”
“That one I knew. You’re kind of hard to miss around town.” The flirting tone in the deputy’s voice and the way he leaned toward Natalie set Sean’s teeth on edge. “How about you?”
“Sean.” The word came out as half a threat.
The deputy straightened and hardened his jaw. “Gotta last name, Sean?”
More than one. “O’Dell.” He rubbed the back of his neck and realized just how damn sick of lying he’d become.
“Okay then.” The deputy flipped open the small notepad. “Why don’t you start at the beginning and walk me through what just went down.”
Chapter Eleven
The day after paramedics hauled a ranting Ca
rl into the ambulance, a sense of impending doom continued to stalk Natalie like a hunter closing in on a deer. To counteract the uncertainty, she fell into her normal routine at the brewery with a vengeance. She poured one–hundred–and–forty–five–degree water into her cup of loose leaf Gyokuro green tea at exactly five after eight. Next, she powered up her laptop and tuned into an internet ambient–music station. After two minutes of calming music, she removed the tea infuser, set it aside, and inhaled the flowery–green aroma.
Normally, this was all it took to put her back on an even keel, but the ghost of anxiety still skittered across the back of her neck, setting her hair on end. Today she might need a double shot of teatime Zen—or another session with Sean in the reference room. She could blame it on the sex, but the feeling making her stomach do the loop–de–loop whenever she thought of Sean had nothing to do with sex—although that sure as hell wasn’t anything to scoff at.
The memory pulled her lips into a smile. Always tied to propriety, she hadn’t ever done it outside of a bed. Oh, she’d done a hell of a lot in that bed, but yesterday was a first in more than one way.
“So did you hear?”
Natalie jumped at her sister’s voice, sending the green tea sloshing around inside her cup and tweaking her apprehension levels up five notches. “Ever hear of knocking?”
“Jumpy, sis?” Miranda strolled in, holding a paper bag in her outstretched hands. “I come baring double–chocolate donuts from the Heaven Sent Bakery.”
Her mouth watered. The donuts were an explosion of chocolate goodness with even more chocolate on top. Eating one was almost as good as a bookshelf organized by genre and alphabetized by the authors’ last names.
“I could use a couple decades of quiet and calm.” Natalie snagged the bag. “But this will do.”
“I’m so sorry.” Miranda sank into the guest chair, her shoulders slumped. “I never thought when I conned you into coming down that it would be like this. I know Olivia and I kid you about the pearls and your lists, but it comes from a place of love. We’re both really proud of how far you’ve come.”
Warmth washed over her, that one–of–a–kind sisterly love of knowing someone was in her corner. After her breakdown during college, her sisters could have treated her like a broken doll that had been carelessly glued back together. But they hadn’t, and for that she’d be eternally grateful. Bald lies in the face of an ugly truth never sat well with her. She’d have shattered under kid gloves, and thanks to their tough love, she’d found the strength she’d thought she’d lost.
“That makes three of us.” She saluted Miranda with a donut. “The fact that I haven’t had a knee–knocking anxiety attack despite all of this crazy is comforting.”
Her sister grinned and grabbed the remaining donut. “You’re a hell of a lot tougher than you look.”
“You know I look just like you.” Mirror reflections, at least on the outside. But on the inside? What she wouldn’t give for Miranda’s bone–deep confidence, or Olivia’s willingness to take chances, instead of being the Nervous Nelly middle sister.
