Millie's Second Chance (12 page)

“No, that can’t be. I was just texting…”

Millie realized as the words left her lips what exactly was happening here.
Clare texted me last night. She was at my apartment with the award. Detective Flynn called Wyatt. Clare is missing.

She covered her mouth with her free hand and gasped. She was shocked and then she reached for the phone.

Wyatt pulled it away.

“That could be her. I was just talking with her through texting.”

He shook his head.

“She was reported missing yesterday.”

“So it’s probably a mistake. She went to my apartment to drop off the award.”

“Honey…Millie…her body was found in your apartment. She’s dead,” Wyatt told her, and Millie felt as if she were going to faint. Immediately, Marco guided her toward the porch bench and knelt down beside her.

She shook her head. “No, it can’t be. Who would do that?” She looked up toward Wyatt, who was reading the text on her phone.

“Frank?” she whispered as the tears hit her eyes and her stomach clenched.

He nodded his head.

“What does the text say?” Kenny asked as he stood next to Wyatt.

“A response to Millie’s last text.”

“
Your friend was really nice but couldn’t give me the answers I wanted. Come back to me, Millie. Don’t make me come for you.”

“Oh God, no!” Millie stood up and Marco joined her. He held her by her waist.

“Calm down, sugar. It’s going to be okay. We’ll protect you,” Marco whispered down to her. She shook her head and covered her mouth. Their words were sinking in.
Frank killed Clare. Oh God, poor Clare.

She tried to push past Marco.

“Honey, slow down. Where are you going?” he asked.

“I’m going to be sick,” she blurted out with her hand over her mouth as she rushed inside to the bathroom.

* * * *

“Son of a bitch, Wyatt. What the hell is this all about? Who is this guy and what does he want with Millie?” Marco asked.

Wyatt took a deep breath then slowly released it. He glanced toward the doorway that Millie had just disappeared through.

“Over two years ago when Stacy, Millie, and Anna lived in New York, Millie started dating this guy, Frank. They were together for a while and he was abusive,” Wyatt began to tell Marco and Kenny. Marco had to hide his anger. The thought of some asshole hitting a woman pissed him off. But it especially made him angry that it had been Millie.

“He was dealing in steroids and guns, supposedly, but lost it one night and nearly killed Millie. He beat the hell out of her and was about to kill her when Stacy arrived and saved her life. It was intense, and Stacy suffered some injuries, but nothing compared to Millie. She was hospitalized for weeks and nearly didn’t survive. Her total recovery took months. Apparently, this Frank character still wants her.”

“How the hell did the bastard get out of jail so darn quick?” Kenny asked as they made their way into Millie’s cottage.

“Apparently, he got out early on good behavior and from the recommendation of his therapist. It’s a fucked-up situation. He called Millie, she called the detective that worked her case in New York, and he recommended she leave town for a bit. He hasn’t been able to locate Frank and Frank hasn’t been to see his parole officer.”

“Well, big fucking surprise there,” Kenny added.

Marco turned toward the hallway just as Millie emerged from the bathroom.

She looked scared and he was compelled to go to her, to protect her from this monster. He couldn’t imagine why this was happening to her.

“Come sit down, Millie.” Marco reached for her to guide her to the couch, but she shook her head.

“What do we need to do, Wyatt?” she asked, then took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. She was trying to be tough, but he could tell that she was shaking.

“They’re on the hunt for him in New York, Millie. Detective Flynn said to keep you here and safe and that’s what my men and I plan on doing.” Wyatt stood there with his hand leaning on the butt of his gun.

“It’s my fault that Clare is dead,” she whispered and Wyatt moved in front of her.

“You listen to me, Millie. I know a bit about individuals like this and believe me when I tell you that this is not your fault. The damn system failed you and it failed Clare. Now it’s our job and Flynn’s job to ensure that Frank is captured and that you remain safe. I’d say you have a lot of people around here to care for you, so you’re not alone in this.”

“I can’t stay here. What if Frank found out I came to Pearl? What if he goes after Stacy or Anna or the other women in the shelter? Then what? He’ll board a plane or take buses or whatever he has to in order to get to me. You don’t know him, Wyatt. None of you know this type of man,” she blurted out as tears rolled down her cheeks.

Marco wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against his chest. She cried as he consoled her.

“I know you’re scared, Millie, but trust that Wyatt and the rest of us know what we’re doing here. He won’t step near this town without us knowing first.” Marco continued to caress her back and hold her tight. She clung to him despite not knowing him well.

Just as he thought that, she began to pull away and wiped the tears from her eyes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to slobber all over your uniform.” She caressed her hand against his chest as if to wipe her tears away, but all it did was make his body warm and want things he shouldn’t want from a woman he hardly even knew.

“Don’t jump the gun, Millie. Marco is going to stay here with you while Kenny and I inform the others about the situation so they’re all on board. I’m taking your phone with me and calling Flynn so he can look into these texts. If in fact that was Frank texting, then he just incriminated himself. It can also help to establish a timeline. I know that Flynn is contacting Frank’s therapist and the parole board. He’ll be back behind bars in no time,” Wyatt explained.

“He doesn’t care. You read the texts, Wyatt. He was toying with me and he killed Clare so easily just because she hadn’t told him what he wanted to know.”

“Clare didn’t know about Pearl or Stacy and Anna?” Marco asked and she looked up into his eyes and shook her head.

“We worked together but never really hung out until the gala. She had a great personality and we hit it off, but she didn’t know about my personal life. If she did…”

Marco placed his hand on her shoulder.

“It’s not your fault. It’s this asshole’s fault and he will be captured.”

“Let’s hope so,” Millie replied.

Detective Flynn and his partner, Detective Mario Bower, stood in the examination room at the coroner’s office. The medical examiner, Dr. Lawrence Martin, looked over the various wounds he found on twenty-two-year-old Clare Brown. He announced his findings into a recorder as Flynn and Bower looked on in disgust and sadness. Detective Flynn still couldn’t believe that Frank Bennett had done this and for no apparent reason except to find out where Millie Donovan was hiding. He really shouldn’t be surprised by the brutality of such a man as Frank. However, his behavior didn’t coincide with his therapist Dr. Sheila Perkin’s notes and findings. She stood before the parole board and placed her medical reputation on the line for Bennett and showed medical proof in counseling sessions. Could Frank Bennett have manipulated the therapist? They wouldn’t know the answer to that until they located the doctor. Currently, she was unaccounted for.

“You see these marks right here along the thigh that can also be seen along other parts of the victim’s body?” Dr. Martin asked them.

“Yeah,” Flynn and Bower both replied.

“Well, it appears to be from a knife. However, up here along the breast line and abdomen are more scratch-like gashes.”

“So what are you thinking, doctor?” Flynn asked.

“This woman was tortured for hours. The killer used at least four types of weapons to assault, abuse, and ultimately kill her.”

Flynn gave a disgusted sigh.

“He left a lot of prints at the scene. I’m confident we can gather enough evidence to charge this guy. He won’t be able to run for long. We’ll catch him,” Flynn added.

“That’s good to know, because a person who could commit such a brutal sexual assault like this does not deserve to be alive or living free. May God help you find him quickly.”

* * * *

Millie heard what sounded like trucks pulling up in front of the cottage. It was only seven in the morning and she felt a splitting headache. She glanced toward the nightstand and then covered her head with a pillow. Thoughts of last night’s tragic news resurfaced in her brain.
Clare was murdered. Frank killed Clare.

She suddenly smelled coffee and wondered who would be making coffee in her house. It was more than likely Anna or Stacy. They stayed with her until midnight along with Ben, Charlie, Marco, and Wyatt.

Marco was insisting that he could stay the night on the couch and finally she was so exhausted and sick to her stomach she walked out of the room and went to bed. She didn’t want to argue with him, but he was stubborn as damn hell.

Her eyes popped open under the pillow.

Is he still here? Did he spend the night?

A panicky feeling filled her at the thought. She slowly got out of bed and peeked through a small opening on her bedroom door. Sure as shit, Marco was standing there in casual clothes, sipping a cup of coffee and meeting someone at the front door. His dark jeans stretched across a perfect ass and the material looked plastered against his muscular thighs. She licked her lips and felt her nipples pebble.
Damn, he is a fine-looking man
.

She felt the tears reach her eyes as she leaned her aching head against the door.

She had the worst luck with men and even if Marco seemed sincere and thoroughly delicious, she couldn’t entertain her attraction to him or any other man. How could she even be thinking such thoughts when Clare was murdered because of her? Clare was dead and Frank was out there somewhere.

She walked back over toward her bedroom mirror.

She wasn’t surprised to see the red-rimmed eyes, blotches over her breasts, and hair rumpled. She’d had a sleepless night. She ran her fingers through her hair, annoyed that the hairbrush was in the bathroom down the hallway. She’d sneak in there first and make herself look decent before venturing into the living room.

She adjusted her T-shirt then grabbed her robe.

Her plan was to go take a shower then tell Marco he could leave and that she would be just fine, but as she slowly opened the door she caught sight of both Anthony and Jeremy Lewis doing something to her front door.

“Excuse me, but what the hell is going on?”

* * * *

Anthony was measuring the door to see where to place the dead bolt and provide extra security in case someone attempted to break into Millie’s cottage.

Marco had spent the night and that gave them all a little peace of mind about Millie. None of them could believe what had happened to her. Anthony and his brother Jeremy had immediately suggested coming over to the cottage in the morning to secure it better. Marco had said that Millie hadn’t been too keen on him staying over last night.

Just then, Millie entered the living room and she didn’t seem too happy about them being there, either.

Marco turned toward Millie and just stared at her. She looked tired and her eyes were red and swollen as if she had been crying, and she seemed angry.

“Anthony and Jeremy came over to do some security upgrades. They won’t get in your way and should be done in a little while.”

“Security upgrades? What the hell are you talking about?” She held her head between her hands.

“You okay, Millie? You have a headache?” Jeremy asked, and she nodded her head then walked toward the kitchen.

Jeremy stopped what he was doing and headed after her. Marco felt a tinge of jealousy that stemmed from his need to protect Millie. His feelings grew stronger for her overnight as he checked on her while she slept. He wanted to hold her as she moaned in her sleep and tossed and turned. She even cried a few times but was so exhausted she slept right through it. He gathered more information on Frank while she slept and he even spoke with Wyatt first thing this morning.

Things seemed to be getting worse.

* * * *

Jeremy met her by the small island in the kitchen.

“Where do you keep the aspirin?” he asked her.

“I don’t know. I just moved in here a few days ago,” she whispered as if it would provide less noise for her headache.

He began to gently open cabinets until he found the one filled with a few different over-the-counter cold remedies and ibuprofen.

“Here, I found some. Let me get you a glass of water.”

He walked toward the refrigerator, poured some water into a cup, and brought the meds and drink to her.

“Take two of these, honey, and it will help in no time.”