Moments In Time: The Complete Novella Collection (14 page)

“Wrong,” a deep-timbered voice replied.
“Miss Adams’s hands are clean.”

My eyes searched the sea of faces; I blinked
away tears then gasped when I spotted him. “Nick,” I whispered.

He stood next to one of the news vans,
wearing the same cap he had on the last time we met, jeans, and a
black polo neck sweater. He moved forward, and people parted to
allow him to pass. “The case was revisited and further
investigation has shown that Miss Adams is innocent.” He addressed
the crowd, but his gaze stayed fixed on mine. “Mistakes were made.
New evidence has shown that even though Miss Adams did pull the
trigger while trying to save my brother, it was not the gunshot
wound that had killed him. He ended his own life.”

I covered my mouth with my trembling hands.
What was he talking about? How else could he have killed
himself?

“Mr. Johnson,” A woman in a fur coat neared
him. “Can you elaborate? If Miss Adams didn’t kill your brother,
how did he die? How did he commit suicide without pulling the
trigger?”

Without even a glance at the woman, Nick
climbed up the steps and stood next to me, draping an arm around my
shoulders. “I’m not at liberty to divulge that information. I can
only assure you that there is sufficient irrefutable proof of Miss
Adams’s innocence.” He paused. “My brother was ill, and in the end,
his illness won. Instead of killing him, Miss Adams had put her
life at risk trying to wrestle for the gun. Now I’d like to ask you
to leave this woman in peace. Allow her to live her life. Please
respect her privacy. Our privacy.”

“Do you love Miss Adams, Mr. Johnson?” one
of the reporters asked.

Nick waited for a long time before
answering. Then he turned to me and cupped my face with both his
palms. “Since the first day I saw her.” He lowered his head and
brushed my lips with his, setting them ablaze. I moved closer and
deepened our kiss, tasting his mouth, mixed with the tears rolling
down my face.

In the distance, applause and whistles broke
out.

Then Nick broke the kiss and grabbed my
hand. “Let’s get out of here.” He guided me down the steps and
through the throng of onlookers, whose number had increased while I
told my story. He pulled me close to his side and we hurried away,
pursued by a few reporters.

When we arrived at his Porsche, which was
parked down the block, he yanked the door of the passenger seat
open and helped me inside. Urging the reporters to stay away, he
ran to his side, got in beside me, and started the car.

As he sped away, my heart still thundered.
“What did… what did you mean back there?”

“Chris didn’t die from the gunshot wound.
You didn’t kill him.”

“But I did, Nick.” I wanted to believe his
words, use them as an eraser for all that had happened. We could
have a chance at a fresh start. But I was there when Chris died,
when he let out his last jagged breath and the light faded from his
eyes. Why would Nick suddenly choose not to believe it after
accusing me of being a killer before?

He didn’t respond, but he slowed down and
parked in front of The Rising Dough. He unhooked his seatbelt,
turned to me, and cupped my face in his palms again. He kissed me
and pressed his forehead to mine, his warm breath misting my face.
“I am so sorry for what you went through. My brother committed
suicide. The gunshot wound to his abdomen was not critical. The
bullet didn’t hit a major organ. What killed him was a lethal dose
of cyanide poisoning which he must have ingested at least two hours
before you found him. The paramedics would never have arrived in
time to save him. Chris was determined to die that day and didn’t
want to leave anything to chance.”

I unglued my forehead from his and gazed
into his eyes. “I don’t understand.” I drew in a shaky breath.
“Nick, that can’t be right. I saw all the blood…so much blood.” I
bit back hot tears. “I shot him.”

“Yes, but he succumbed to the poison before
he could bleed to death. Chris was desperate to die, and he
succeeded.”

“Why don’t I know about any of this?”

He brushed my hair from my neck. “Everything
seemed to be black and white. The police officer in charge the
morning Chris died had found you standing over Chris’s body and
didn’t see the need to dig further.” Nick closed his eyes briefly
and when he opened them again, they had a sparkle to them. “But
forensic evidence was analyzed soon after Chris died, and it
revealed had Chris had toxic levels of cyanide in his system. And
the gunshot wound was most likely not the cause of his death. But
the samples and reports were misplaced and only found two years
later, during a renovation of the police station.”

Anger broiled inside me. “I can’t believe
this. How could this happen?” Here I was, living with a burden that
had almost destroyed me. A burden that could have been lighter.
“After they found the report, why didn’t they tell me?”

“My guess is they didn’t want to place a
spotlight on their mistakes. They had been sloppy with several
other cases too. Now, the chief of police and a few other officers
have been suspended from duty.”

“Carlene, I’m sorry. I feel like a fool for
refusing to hear you out,” Nick said, pulling me to him. “I was
just so shocked and angry. I didn’t know what to think or do.”

“I only found out Chris was your brother
when I saw you had a birthmark identical to his.”

“At the Lux?”

“Yes, in the morning.”

“That’s why you left so suddenly?”

“I couldn’t stay. I needed to find out if my
suspicions were correct. When I went home, I did an Internet search
and found a photo of you and Chris together.”

Nick sighed. “The only photo of us. I’d
taken it with my phone. Someone must have gotten their hands on
it.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “You never again need to
be sorry. What happened, happened.”

“I can’t believe it.” I covered my mouth as
tears flooded my eyes, washing away some of the pain of the last
few years, the guilt, the shame. “I could be innocent,” I said
between my trembling fingers.

“You are.” Nick produced a tissue from his
pocket and handed it to me.

“Thank you,” I blew my nose and wiped my
eyes. “Thank you for finding proof that I’m innocent.”

He placed his hand on my knee and squeezed.
“When I had the case reopened, I convinced myself I wanted to prove
your guilt.” He sighed. “In truth, I wanted to find out if there
was a chance at all that you could be innocent.”

“But you knew the chances were slim, since I
had already confessed.”

He nodded. “I knew I was searching in the
dark, but I couldn’t stop.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” Meeting Nick gave me
two things to be grateful for. He had shown me how it felt to fall
in love again. And if we had never met, I’d have continued my life
thinking I killed a person, someone I’d loved.

“Not as glad as I am. Even if the results
broke my heart just as much as they relieved me.”

“Nick, where do you think Chris got cyanide
from? If it’s that lethal, it can’t be easily accessible.”

“The police said he must have bought it on
the Internet. I think a person can buy anything online these
days.”

“You’re right.” I sighed and ran a hand
through my hair. “But I can’t help thinking I could have done
something, anything, to save him. I should have saved him
somehow.”

“Sometimes things just happen. He wanted to
go, and there’s nothing you, me, or anyone else could have done.
You have to stop feeling guilty.”

I nodded. “Okay.” But I wasn’t quite
satisfied with his answer. I would never forget the memory of Chris
with the gun to his head, his determined eyes as he prepared to
die, the sound of the gunshot, the metallic smell of his blood on
my hands. He died in my arms as my tears mixed with his blood. I’d
called 9-1-1 immediately, but by the time the police and ambulance
arrived, it was too late. Chris’s life was nothing but a
memory.

But Nick was right. If I wanted to live my
life, I had to stop blaming myself. I might not be able to forget,
but maybe one day the memories would fade and their power over me
would lessen. And maybe I’d create new ones with Nick.

Nick pulled me into a hug, stroking my hair
with one hand as he whispered into my ear. “It’s all over. You can
let go of the past now.”

I leaned against his shoulder and breathed
in his spicy, masculine scent. Only some of the weight rolled off
my shoulders. The thought of Chris hurting so much that he never
wanted to see another day killed me inside. I felt a slice of guilt
at not having been able to help him more than I had. But I had to
move forward in the comfort that he had found the peace he’d been
searching for most of his life.

“Spend the night at my place,” he said. “Now
that we have the question of your innocence out of the way, there
are some other things we need to catch up on.”

“Sure.” I wanted to spend as much time as I
could with him. I had found happiness with Chris once, but that had
been the heavy kind. My happiness with Nick was airy. Free. “How
did you know where I was?” I asked.

“Your friend Melisa called my personal
assistant and wouldn’t give up until I talked to her. I was
planning to come looking for you, anyway, in the next few days. But
she told me you were thinking of leaving town. I’m glad I made it
in time. Tell me you’ll change your mind about leaving.”

Now that I was innocent, Serendipity didn’t
seem like such a bad place to start over. “I changed my mind.” I
smiled broadly.

He kissed me lightly on the cheek. “That’s a
great decision.”

Neither of us uttered another word as we
rode to his place, and yet emotions flowed freely between us. A
dream coming true usually renders one speechless. Nick was truly my
knight in shining armor. I needed him in every way.

It turned out Nick lived in the massive
hotel suite where we’d made love the first night we’d spent
together. Well, why the hell not? He owned the Lux Hotel, after
all.

Once we were inside, he closed the door
behind us, and in one swift motion, swept me off my feet and
carried me to the bedroom, where he laid me gently on the bed. He
positioned himself above me and lowered his lips to mine. His
tongue teased and traced the edges of my lips first, then parted
them.

We dove into a hungry kiss, our mouths
devouring one another’s, tongues embracing. He sucked and gently
nipped my lips before taking my mouth in his again.

Then, without saying a word, he unbuttoned
my shirt, pausing between each button to kiss the spot it had
helped conceal. He pulled me up by the arms and peeled the whole
thing off. Before laying me down again, he wrapped his hands around
me and unhooked my bra while his breath fanned the sensitive place
where my neck and shoulders met.

I slipped out of my bra, releasing my
breasts, which he cupped and squeezed together.

He buried his face between them and inhaled.
“I love your smell.”

I kissed the top of his head, which smelled
like the ocean. “Not as much as I love yours.”

A breeze from the open window swept over the
naked parts of my body, turning me on even more. A flicker of
excitement bubbled up inside me. I was going to make love to him
again. Finally. We still had a lot to talk about, but all of that
could wait. Right now, we needed to communicate in a physical
way.

Nick took his time removing his sweater,
jeans, and underwear.

He stood in front of me, shoulders and chest
broad and well sculpted, his stomach firm, with hair only in the
right places, and his erection ready for me.

Desire swept over me, and I was soaking wet
in anticipation. I could have orgasmed without him even touching
me. But I knew what would come next.

We’d never really made love before. We’d had
sex, but it had been the hot, hungry, desperate kind, as if we were
afraid the moment would slip away.

As he lowered himself down on the bed, I
expected him to ravish me like before. But instead of tearing off
my underwear and entering me, he removed my panties like he was
performing an unveiling. Instead of throwing them to the floor, he
folded them and placed them on the leather armchair next to the
bed. He kissed me again, deeply, taking his time caressing every
inch of my lips, mouth, tongue. Then he moved his tongue along
every inch of me, searing a path down the length of my body.

The spot between my legs throbbed as he
moved his attention there and massaged my clitoris rhythmically
with his fingers, alternating fast and slow.

I moaned and bit my bottom lip to prevent
myself from screaming out.

“Are you liking this? Tell me what you want
me to do to you,” he said. “I want to make you happy.” He sucked on
my chin and at the same time, inserted a finger into me, which he
rotated while massaging my clitoris with his thumb. ”You
deserve to be happy.”

Enough—I couldn’t bear it any longer. I
wanted him more than I wanted my next breath. “It’s perfect.”

I arched my back as he moved his face
downward and slipped one of my nipples into his mouth, then sucked
on it gently, furiously, and then gently again. He moved to the
other and gave it the same treatment.

As fire spread from my nipples to the rest
of my body and pooled between my thighs, I curled my fingers into
his hair and tugged at it. “That feels so good. I missed you so
much, Nick... but I’d love to feel you inside me.”

“Not yet.” He slowed down. “We don’t have to
rush,” he said against my lips. “We have all night.” He kissed my
face, my ears, and moved to my throat, planting warm, damp kisses
on my boiling skin.

He continued pleasuring me until lighting
struck and his name rolled off my tongue.

With a smile playing on his lips, he pulled
me against his hard, warm body and held me until my breathing
became even again. He didn’t let go, didn’t make a move for his own
pleasure. In fact, he whispered, “I love you,” and fell asleep
holding me in the cradle of his arms, skin to skin. Surprised but
secure, I drifted off as well, into the deepest sleep I’d had in a
long time.