Reflection Point: An Eternity Springs Novel (38 page)

“I’ll see you around, then. Have a nice lunch, Sheriff Romeo.”

“Bite me, Mr. McClure.”

Zach strolled on, waving to the mayor, nodding to the lemonade vendor, then stopping to buy a cup since he was thirsty. That caused him to consider what he had at home for lunch. He had offered Savannah lunch. He should have food. He didn’t have any food in either his fridge or his pantry.
I’ll pick up something from a vendor and …

Abruptly the words Logan McClure had said filtered back through his mind.
She could have been Celeste Blessing’s twin
.

He stopped abruptly. Celeste Blessing’s twin.

Weeks ago Savannah had told him about Francine Vaughn.
She’s Celeste Blessing’s doppelgänger
.

The Vaughns had been arrested last week. Had they made bail? He hadn’t heard.

Logan had talked to Celeste Blessing’s twin.

“Oh, hell.” Zach dropped his lemonade and began to run.

Savannah’s heart pounded and her mind raced.
Okay. Don’t panic. Think. This is your home, your territory
.

Kyle Vaughn will not defeat you again
.

She needed to stall for time. Zach would arrive here soon. He’d be early. He wouldn’t wait until one. He’d kissed her. He’d said he’d take her to Reflection Point for lunch. He’d be wanting make-up sex.

He’ll be early. Buy some time, Savannah. Do what you have to do to survive
.

She slipped her bra straps off her shoulders and bared her breasts.
It’s no big deal. It’s not like he hasn’t seen them before
.

“Well now, sugar,” Kyle said, leering. “I’d forgotten what a nice rack you had. So tell me, did you get yourself a girlfriend while you were in the slammer? Bet you had plenty of ladies wantin’ to suck on those pretty tits.”

She eyed his gun. Had he come here to kill her? She knew he was a liar, a thief, and a drug dealer, but had he ever killed anyone before? Would he hesitate or would it be easy for him? What should she say? What should she do?

“Now take off those cute little shorts,” he demanded.

“My bathtub is going to overflow, Kyle. This is an old house and if it overflows it will leak down the side of the house. Someone might notice. Will you let me go turn it off?”

While he thought about it, she mentally inventoried her cabinets. Surely she could find something to use as a weapon. Hair spray. Tweezers. Didn’t she have a pair of scissors in the drawer?

“Don’t concern yourself with the bathtub, Savannah.
Look on the good side: you won’t need to worry about a water bill. Now, take off those shorts.”
Fine. More to distract him with
. She dropped her shorts.

He let out a wolf whistle. “Baby, baby. I don’t recall you wearing thongs. I think I’d remember that.”

Her stomach rolled. He’d come here to kill her, that was obvious. The voice in her head asked,
Okay, then, what are you going to do to stop him, Savannah Sophia?

Grams, you’re back!

Darling, I’m always with you. Now, answer the question, love. What are you going to do to stop this villain?

I don’t know!

Sure you do. You’ll do something. Anything
.

It’s a risk. A huge risk. He’s got a gun
.

And if he kills you, you’ll have died taking action
.

Taking action. Savannah liked that. Taking action meant not being a victim. Have a nice victimhood, Zach had said.

I don’t think so. Not again. Never again
.

That’s the spirit, Savannah Sophia
.

Of course, won’t it be just my luck to die right when I’ve found Zach?

Fiddlesticks. Maybe you won’t die. Maybe you’ll defeat the villain. After all, you’re not a victim anymore
.

No, I’m not. I’m Zach Turner’s woman
.

And she wouldn’t be afraid.

Savannah used the weapons she had at her disposal—her voice, her body, her intellect. She arched her back, stuck out her boobs, and asked, “Did you come here to screw me or shoot me, Kyle?”

His gaze dropping to her breasts, he said, “Both.”

“You know what I learned in prison? Danger is a turn-on. I’m pretty turned on. My panties are wet. Wanna see?”

His voice tight, he said, “Show me.”

It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was all she had and as much as she’d have liked to wait for Zach, she sensed she was running out of time. She went into full striptease mode, shooting a hip, letting her thumbs play with the elastic, slowly … ever so slowly … pulling her panties down.

She suppressed the shudder of revulsion. She was a warrior woman, using the weapons at hand, and they were working. He was distracted. He wasn’t on guard. Why would he be? He’d known the old Savannah. The innocent, foolish, starry-eyed girl. He hadn’t known Zach Turner’s woman.

She slipped off the panties, but kept hold of them. She swung them around in a slow circle, once, twice. On the third time, she intended to throw them in his face and lunge at him. She’d knock him to the floor and rip the gun out of his hand and if she had to use it, then so be it. She was Savannah Sophia Moore and she could do this.

It might have worked, too, had everything not gone to hell.

Zach called for backup. He knew he might be overreacting, but he called for backup anyway. Gabi was on the north side of town. She would be only minutes behind him. Martin was in a department vehicle descending Sinner’s Prayer Pass. His other deputy was on the highway north of town. “I’ll get them there fast, Zach,” Ginger assured him.

Good. If this was a mistake, then he could call them off before they arrived.

Only he didn’t think this was a mistake. Every instinct in his body was screaming.

Savannah was in trouble.

He arrived at the house and shifted into hunter mode,
breathing deeply to calm his breath even as he moved forward on silent feet.

He tested the lock on the kitchen door, and the knob turned easily. Crap. Savannah was one of the few people in Eternity Springs who kept her house locked even when she was inside.

Quietly he slipped inside. He listened hard. He heard something … water running? The bathtub?

She was taking a bath. He relaxed a little. Maybe she’d been thinking about make-up sex, too, and had simply forgotten to lock up.

Or maybe not. Something didn’t feel right. There was a tension in the house that wasn’t normal.

Aware of the sometimes squeaky hinges, he opened the swinging door that separated the kitchen from the rest of the house. That’s when he heard the voices.

The panties began their third rotation when the sound came from downstairs. TJ yelled, “Savannah? The credit card machine has quit working. Savannah?”

Kyle jerked his gaze away from her and turned toward the door. Time slowed to freeze-frames. Zach in the hall, his gun up. His eyes met hers.
He can’t see Kyle’s gun
.

“No!” she screamed, throwing herself at Kyle, at his gun, the gun pointed at Zach, just as his finger moved on the trigger.

The bullet ripped into her. Pain stabbed her. Savannah fell even as another shot exploded and gore and blood splattered against her skin. Kyle’s body toppled and Savannah knew he was dead, knew Zach had killed him.
It’s over. It’s over
.

“Peach!” He was there, kneeling over her, those gorgeous blue eyes of his fierce. Worried. “It’s okay. Help is on the way. It’ll be okay.”

He reached for her, and … then it wasn’t okay.

Freeze-frames again. His body jerks. His eyes widen.

Blood. Zach’s blood.
Oh, dear God
. He falls on top of her.

Over his shoulder, a wild-eyed devil stands holding a gun.

Not Celeste. Francine.

TWENTY-SIX
 

She awoke to the murmur of soft voices and the sight of an angel seated beside her bed. Not Francine. Celeste.

I’m either in heaven or a hospital
. Where’s Zach? Then she remembered. Zach!

This could be hell.

Her mouth was dry and she tried to say his name, but it emerged as a croak. Celeste looked up from her magazine. A motorcycle magazine. “Savannah, you’re awake.”

Celeste reached for the white foam cup with a straw on the bedside table and put it up to Savannah’s mouth. She sipped and would have thought that the water felt and tasted wonderful had she not had but one thought in her mind. “Zach?”

“He’s alive. He’s in surgery.”

Alive. Thank you, God. Savannah drifted back to sleep.

The next time she awoke, Sage was sitting in the chair beside her bed, reading a novel. Savannah asked, “Zach?”

Sage smiled at her. “Hello, sleepyhead. Welcome back. Zach is in ICU, Savannah. It’s serious, but I will tell you that he survived surgery and we have every reason to hope.”

Savannah studied her friend’s face. Before she’d moved to Eternity Springs and become an artist, Sage had been a doctor. She knew what she was talking about. “Promise?”

“I promise, honey. The next twenty-four hours are key.”

Tears flooded Savannah’s eyes and she shut them. She said a fervent, silent prayer, sipped the water Sage offered, then said, “I need to see him.”

“I know you do. We’ll make that happen just as soon as we possibly can. You have my word on it. In the meantime, you need to do your part. You rest and get your strength up and we’ll get you in to see Zach.”

Good. Okay
. “Teej?”

“TJ is fine. He’s here. He rode in with Cam and Sarah. You are at the hospital in Gunnison. You are going to be fine, by the way. The bullet went in and out. Nicked a bone and did some muscle damage, but you’ll heal.”

“Kyle?”

Sage’s face went hard. “He’s dead. The woman is, too. She had a shoot-out with Gabi.”

“She killed Francine?” Savannah asked, wanting to be certain she understood.

“Yes.”

“Gabi’s okay?”

Sage hesitated. “Physically she’s fine. She’s understandably upset.”

“Warrior woman,” Savannah murmured, then drifted back to sleep.

The next time she woke, she thought something was wrong with her eyes. She was seeing double. Two identical, tall, handsome strangers stood at the foot of her bed. Both looked tired and wore identical worried expressions as they gazed not at Savannah but at the figure seated in the bedside chair.

“You need to get some rest, Gabs,” one of them said.

“You’ll make yourself sick,” the other added. “That won’t do anyone any good. Max will be landing soon. He’ll be pissed if he gets here and sees you looking like a hag.”

“I don’t look like a hag,” Gabi said. “I’m fine.”

“You should go to the hotel and take a shower and a nap.”

“I will just as soon as they tell us that Zach is out of the woods.”

“But—”

“No, Lucca. Save your breath. I’m not leaving the hospital until I know that our brother is going to survive.”

Savannah’s eyes flew open. She croaked. “Your brother? Survive?”

Holy crap, I hurt
.

It’d be easier to sink back into the haze, Zach knew. Awareness meant agony—but something else mattered. Something … someone. Savannah.

In his mind’s eye, he saw her fall. Felt the warm, wet stickiness of her blood. Savannah! His eyelids weighed a ton. Sound. Make a sound. Say her name. “S-s-s-s …”

“He’s hissing again,” Cam Murphy said.

“That’s a good sign,” Gabi Romano added. “Right? Don’t you think that’s a good sign?”

He put all his energy into saying, “Pe-a-ch.”

“What did he say?” Cam asked.

“He said ‘Peach,’ ” a woman’s voice said in a beautiful southern drawl. “He said my name.”

Zach opened his eyes and saw her leaning over him, whole and healthy and full of life and full of love. She wore an angel’s wing necklace around her neck, and it brushed his cheek as she leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Thank God. You’re back. I love you, Zach. You’re going to be okay. We’re all going to be okay.”

He saw tears pool in her big brown doe eyes and realized with only a twinge of embarrassment that his own eyes were wet, too. He managed a smile as his heart overflowed, then he drifted back to sleep. In peace.

“I’m telling you, there is bad juju around the summer arts festival. It needs to be cancelled,” Sarah Murphy said five days later.

“Now, Sarah …”

“Don’t ‘Now Sarah’ me, Zach Turner. You’ve been shot twice—twice!—at our summer arts festival. You lost your spleen, for heaven’s sake. What will it be next time? A kidney? Your liver? That’s bad karma, and I think changes must be made.”

Zach glanced at Savannah, seated beside him here in the hospital cafeteria, the remains of the lunch that their friends had brought with them from their favorite local restaurant scattered around them. “She’s turned into such a diva.”

“You scared her.”

“You both scared me. I don’t want to go through anything like that ever again.” Sarah lifted her chin and added, “It’s not healthy for me.”

“Or me either,” Cat Davenport said.

“Or me,” Nic Callahan concurred.