New Year Heroes: The Sheriff's Secretary / Veiled Intentions / Juror No. 7

“Frank.” Mariah wouldn’t have thought it possible for the cold inside her to intensify, but it did at the sight of the man who had caused her such pain. A fear she thought she’d gotten past filled her.

“Your hair always looked so nice when you wore it short,” he said. “Now, aren’t you going to invite me in?”

Mariah felt Lucas’s presence just behind her. “I don’t know if she’ll invite you in, but I certainly will.”

As Lucas placed a hand on Mariah’s shoulder, she was filled with strength. This man, this monster, couldn’t hurt her ever again, and she refused to allow him to create fear inside her.

“By all means, come in,” she agreed and opened the door to her past. “We’ve been looking for you.”

“Who are you?” Frank asked Lucas as he stepped into the small foyer.

“I’m Sheriff Lucas Jamison and I have some questions for you, Frank.”

“I’ve got questions for you. Where in the hell is my boy? What kind of an investigation is going on that a little boy and some woman have been missing for the past four days and you can’t find them?”

Lucas’s eyes narrowed. “Why don’t we all go in and have a seat. I’ll be happy to answer your questions after you’ve answered mine.”

It was obvious Lucas intended to maintain the control in the situation. The three of them moved into the living room where Frank sat on the sofa and patted the cushion next to him with a smile at Mariah.

“When hell freezes over,” she muttered under her breath and sat in the chair opposite the sofa. Lucas remained standing next to Mariah’s chair.

“Can you tell me where you’ve been for the past four days?” Lucas asked.

Frank straightened his shoulders, as if affronted by the very question. “Surely you don’t think I had anything to do with this.” He glared at Mariah. “Ask her what she did to put our boy at risk. She’s always been irresponsible. If anyone is at fault here, it’s her.”

“Right now we’re talking about you,” Lucas replied, his tone holding an iron edge. “I’m going to ask you again, where have you been for the past four days?”

“Up until this morning I was in my home in Shreveport,” Frank said.

“We had the authorities in Shreveport looking for you, but they couldn’t find where you lived or worked,” Mariah said. Funny, for so many years he’d been a monster in her mind. He’d been big and strong and scary. But now, seated on her floral-patterned sofa, he looked small and petty and nothing like a monster at all.

“I’ve been living with a friend and I’m between jobs at the moment. It was during breakfast this morning that I saw a newscast about Billy and Mariah and of course I came right here.” He cast a sideways look at Mariah. “My new friend knows how to treat a man right.”

If Mariah had to guess, his new “friend” was probably a young, impressionable woman who didn’t realize the path she’d chosen when she’d hooked up with Frank Landers.

“I’ll need your address in Shreveport and the name of your friend,” Lucas said.

Frank’s square jaw tightened. “You’re wasting your time investigating me.”

“It’s my time to waste,” Lucas replied evenly.

For the next few minutes Lucas questioned Mariah’s ex-husband, and though she tried to stay focused on the conversation she found herself comparing the two men.

She’d once thought Frank the handsomest man she’d ever known, but now she saw the weakness of his jaw, the furtive cast of his eyes and the voice that radiated belligerence rather than strength.

Handsome was a man who loved his sister to distraction. Handsome was a man who had held her in his arms when she thought she might fracture. The fact that Lucas remained standing next to where she sat, creating a subtle united force to Frank, that was beyond handsome.

Somewhere in the madness of the past four days, her attitude toward Lucas Jamison had changed. As she watched the byplay between the two men, she realized she’d allowed her past to color how she saw Lucas and his actions toward Jenny.

“I demand to know exactly what’s being done to find my son,” Frank said, his strident tone bringing Mariah out of her thoughts. He stood as if unable to sit still another moment.

“We can discuss all that at my office,” Lucas replied. “Tomorrow morning at ten. I’ll meet you there and fill you in.”

“Fine. I look forward to hearing what’s going on.” Frank headed for the front door. Mariah started to get up, but Lucas touched her shoulder.

“Stay put,” he said. “I’ll walk him out.”

She remained in the chair and realized seeing Frank again had somehow freed her. She hadn’t known until this moment that he’d still owned a part of her, that a little piece of fear still reigned in her heart where he was concerned. Facing him again had evaporated that fear, and she knew he’d never have the power in life or in dreams to scare her again.

Now if she could just get her son back…. She rose from the chair and went to the window that looked over the backyard and stared out into the deepening shadows of the night.

Strange. The wrist Frank had broken didn’t ache now. Her worst nightmare had come true. Frank knew where they lived, but she wasn’t running this time. He’d chased her from everything she’d known once. He wouldn’t do it again. This was Billy’s home. He loved it here, had friends and roots here.

She’d gone to court before to ensure that Frank had no visitation with his son. He had no legal right to be here, and this time she wasn’t running.

She heard the front door open, then close. She knew when Lucas stood behind her, because she smelled the familiar scent of him. She wasn’t surprised when he placed his hands gently on her shoulders and turned her around to face him.

“You okay?” he asked, his features radiating concern.

“I’m fine.” She smiled. “He was my boogeyman for so long, but seeing him now I realized he isn’t anymore. He’s just a pathetic little man who likes to abuse women.”

“I called Agent Kessler while I was outside,” Lucas said. “I want your ex-boogeyman checked inside out and upside down. I want to know everything about his movements over the past four days.”

She frowned. “So you think he has Billy?”

“I think his concern for his son came off like an orchestrated act,” Lucas replied. “I’ve definitely moved him to the top of my suspect list.” He frowned. “He’s a nasty piece of work.” His frown fell away for a moment and a soft smile curved his lips. “But I will tell you now that you look beautiful with your long hair.”

She touched his jaw, the place where a muscle knotted when he was filled with angry emotion. “I owe you an apology.”

He covered her hand with his, his expression curious. “An apology for what?”

“For telling you that you remind me of Frank, for allowing you to believe that you have anything in common with that man.”

A pained expression chased across his face and he dropped his hand from hers. “I would never, ever willingly hurt Jenny or any woman, but there was some truth in what you said to me.” He stepped away from her and raked a hand through his hair. “I have been overbearing with Jenny. I didn’t mean it to be that way, but over the past couple of days I’ve given it a lot of thought.” His jaw knotted and his eyes darkened. “I just want a chance to do things differently.”

She moved into his arms and leaned her head against his broad chest. It scared her just a little bit, how comforting the act was, how much she felt as if she belonged in his arms.

What they were experiencing had nothing to do with real life. The connection she felt with him had been forged in circumstances of heightened emotions, of tense drama and fear. It had nothing to do with reality, and she’d be a fool to think otherwise.

Still she remained in his arms and thought of her son and his sister and wondered if there was a happy ending to be found in this mess.

Then the phone rang.

THE RING OF THE PHONE electrified Lucas. He broke their embrace and raced for the kitchen. He hit the record and speaker button, then picked up the receiver.

“Jamison,” he answered.

“Ah, the good sheriff. Listen carefully. At the corner of Main and Cotton Street …”