Don't Look Back (40 page)

He spoke into his microphone. “I need eyes and ears, people.”

“Copy that,” came the voice in his ear.

He wondered if he had time to wait. Scooting forward, he took another look through the blinds. Jamie backed into the den, then he caught a glimpse of the gun that followed her. Beth Wilkins stepped into view.

Jamie was saying something. Beth wasn’t having any of it, shaking her head and waving the gun.

“Is the alarm deactivated?” he asked into his microphone.

“Copy that.”

Connor shot him a look as though asking if Jamie was all right. A thumbs-down from Dakota brought a frown to his face.

Then Dakota said, “We’re going to have to get in there. The woman is unstable and she’s got a gun on Jamie.”

He called her number one more time, watching through the slits of the blinds.

The ringing phone made her blink. “I need to answer that.”

“No!” Beth’s hand shook.

Jamie took a deep breath. “Okay.”

The phone rang through to voice mail. Jamie backed up more. Beth followed.

Keep her talking.

“What do you want?” Another step back.

Evil settled on the woman’s face. Malice glinted, and any ounce of sympathy Jamie had lingering for the children who’d suffered such a horrendous childhood disappeared in the presence of the twisted adult. She had to do whatever it took to get away from this woman or she was dead.

Jamie took another step back and ended up in the sunroom. Could she get to the door and get out before Beth shot her?

The gun tilted and Beth’s eyes widened as though she just realized where they were. “Stop moving.”

Jamie stopped, having accomplished her goal of moving the woman away from the door.

Beth shifted closer. Jamie tensed.

“What do I want?” she asked calmly, as though the two of them were sitting down and sharing a cup of coffee. “I want a normal childhood with parents who loved me. But that’s not going to happen. I want my brother back.” A scowl, then grief twisted her face and tears appeared. “But since that’s not going to happen, I want to finish his work.”

“You’re crazy,” Jamie whispered.

“Crazy!” The tears stopped, the face hardened. “I’m crazy?” A pause. “Well, I might be, but it’s only because people like you made me this way.”

“Beth – ”

“Shut up.”

The back of Jamie’s thighs hit her paint supply table. An idea formed and her fingers felt behind her. Groped. Closed around the can.

Beth motioned once more with the weapon. “Now, we’re going to get in your car and we’re going to leave.”

Heart thumping, adrenaline rushing, Jamie kept the can behind her, waiting, watching for the right moment. “Where are we going?”

“Back to the house. No one will look for you there.”

“They’re still processing it as a crime scene. There are people still there.”

Indecision creased her forehead. Jamie could see she’d confused her, blown her plan out of the water, and now she didn’t know what to do.

A lilting whistle came from behind Beth.

The woman whirled.

Jamie grabbed the can and hurled it toward Beth’s face.

Turpentine splashed, Beth screamed and the gun fired. Some part of her brain registered the sound of a window breaking.

“Jamie!”

Dakota’s voice came from the door. Jamie threw herself past the woman who swiped frantically at her eyes and gasped for breath.

Strong arms pulled her behind him and uniforms swarmed the house.

Beth’s screeching protests rang in her ears, but all she could do was hold on to the man who’d saved her life once again.

37

December, Six Months Later

Jamie looked down at Maya’s grave, grief twisting her insides. “I miss her so much, Dakota. She was there with me, from the moment I woke up in the hospital until . . .” She thought. “Well, just until. A twelve-year friendship that was so much more than a friendship. She was my sister in Christ, my confidante, my spiritual mentor, my encourager . . .” Her whispered words trailed off.

“She loved you like a sister.”

“I know and it’s funny that we hit it off as well as we did. She was about ten years older than I. The same age as Samantha, and yet for some reason,” she shrugged, “we clicked.” A laugh. “I think I got the better end of the deal. I’m not so sure I did much for her. I was very needy, you know.”

The arm he’d settled over her shoulders pulled her closer to him. She let him, relishing the feeling of trusting him completely. His voice rumbled above her head. “She didn’t expect you to. Maya spent her life helping others, wanting to make a difference in the world.”

“You got that from her just from the few times you saw her?”

“Yep. And from observing your relationship with her.”

A tear trickled from the corner of her eye. “I know she’s with God, Dakota, but I
miss
her.”

“I know, hon.” He planted a kiss on top of her head.

“I don’t want to hate them,” she whispered in reference to Howard and Beth Wilkins, the brother and sister who’d suffered so dreadfully as children, warping their perception of the world and of people in general.

“No one would blame you if you did.”

“I would. I often think about what if someone had intervened sooner in their lives. What was wrong with people? Couldn’t they tell something was incredibly wrong in those children’s lives?” Another hug. “We’ve been over this. Things were different forty years ago, Jamie, you know that. Unfortunately, we can’t change it.”

“I know.” She knelt down and placed the flowers on the mound. She patted the headstone. “Bye, Maya. I’ll be back.”

Dakota took her hand. “Maya really made a difference in your life, didn’t she?”

Jamie looked up at him. “I wouldn’t be where I am today if God hadn’t placed her there for me. Even when I was rejecting him, he was taking care of me.”

“Makes you wonder why he’d let her be killed, doesn’t it?”

She shrugged. “Sure, it does. But I don’t question his goodness, his overall plan. In spite of my grief and shortsightedness, I still believe he knows best.” She thought for a moment. “And if Maya thought her death would further his work, then she wouldn’t regret the cost to herself.”

“I’m still processing all that.”

She grinned up at him through a sheen of tears that still lingered. “You’re praying and seeking God, Dakota. You’ve given him your life. That’s all he asks. He’ll take care of the rest.”

As they walked back to the car, Dakota watched Jamie. She had a newly relaxed attitude. She smiled more and didn’t jump when he touched her anymore.

He heard her phone ring and she grabbed it. “Hello?”

As she listened, her eyes widened, then she swung around and grabbed his hand. “Come on, it’s time. Samantha’s on her way to the hospital!”

The moment they’d all been waiting for.

He felt just as eager as Jamie. He was going to be an uncle. Well, almost an uncle. If Jamie would marry him, she’d make him an uncle.

He reached over and clasped her hand. “Are you ready yet?”

“Ready?” Confusion clouded her gaze.

Dakota rubbed her ring finger. “Ready.”

“Oh.” The light went on and she flushed, then looked up at him from beneath her lashes. “Yeah. I think I am.”

Joy exploded in his chest. To cover it, he started the car. “Okay, we’ll address that issue later.”

“Okay.”

“And definitely soon.”

The hospital never stilled. Jamie sidestepped a mother and two toddlers to make her way over to the elevator. She punched the button with a shaking finger.

“Hey, you left me in the dust back there.”

Whirling, she threw her arms around Dakota’s neck and squeezed. “I’m sorry, I’m just so excited.”

He hugged her back and laughed. “I know.”

The doors slid open and she darted in, pulling Dakota in after her. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. “Come on, come on,” she muttered.

“Jamie, chill. They’re not going anywhere.”

She slanted a look at him. “Laugh all you want, Richards. I’m ready to meet my nephew.”

“Might be a niece.”

“He wouldn’t dare.”

Dakota just shook his head at her and she smiled. “I’ll still love her if she’s a girl.”

The car finally stopped on the right floor and they stepped out. Jamie spotted her parents in the hall. “Mom?”

The woman turned and grinned. “He’s here!”

Jamie squealed and gave Dakota’s arm a light punch. “See? I told you.”

Her dad grinned. “An eight-pounder.”

“He’s not a fish, Charles,” his wife reprimanded him.

Jamie let the laughter peel from her. Connor chose that moment to stick his head out the door. “Come on in, everyone.”

He didn’t have to ask twice.

They all crowded into the room.

Jenna stood holding her little brother, beaming down at him. Jamie pulled the blanket aside and reached out a finger to touch his perfect cheek. “He’s just beautiful,” she whispered. Awe filled her.
Thank you, God, for bringing us here.

“Amen,” Dakota whispered in her ear as he gazed down at the newborn. “You were praying again, weren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

Jenna grinned. “You want to hold him?”

“Uh-huh.” Jamie held out her arms and Jenna placed the precious bundle in them. A perfect fit. She inhaled his clean baby scent and her heart clenched as though he’d reached through her chest and grabbed it in his tiny fist.

“Hey, Jamie, I’m the one that did all the work. You wanna speak to me?”

Everyone laughed at Samantha’s affected outrage. Jamie crossed the room to lean over and kiss her sister’s cheek. “You did good, Sam.”

Sam’s eyes flooded with tears. “Yeah, I did, didn’t I?”

Connor didn’t seem to know where to look. His eyes flitted from his wife to his son, then back to his wife. Dakota punched his buddy on the arm. “Good job, man.”

Connor grunted. “I better not take any of the credit if I know what’s good for me.”

A knock on the door brought their attention around. Sam called out, “Come in.”

Kit pushed open the door and stepped inside the room. “Hey there. Thought I’d come meet my nephew.”

Jamie passed her bundle reluctantly to her twin. “What’s his name?”

Samantha and Connor exchanged a look, then Sam said, “Connor Andrew Wolfe. We’re going to call him Andy.” Andy let out a squawk as though approving the name.

“For Connor’s partner, Andrew, who was killed,” Jamie whispered. Sam nodded and Conner cleared his throat. “He would be proud.”

Dakota gripped her hand and looked her in the eye. “Soon?”

She nodded. “Real soon.”

And in front of everybody, he leaned down and kissed her. As the sound of clapping penetrated her fog of bemusement, she grinned against his lips. “Real, real soon.”

Epilogue

One, two, three,

You laughed at me,

You tapped your feet,

You rolled your eyes,

The time has come for you all to die.

The Judge clutched the pen so hard, it snapped in two. Blue ink dripped onto the paper in front of him. He ignored it. Not the best poem he’d ever come up with, but it would do. The Judge pulled the last picture in front of him, then placed it into the box. One by one, he’d gathered their pictures, their photos, their schedules. He’d learned everything there was to know about each and every one.