Shadows of the Past (Logan Point Book #1): A Novel (21 page)

She took the chair beside him. She’d noticed all afternoon that energy seemed to radiate from him, but maybe that was his normal persona.

“So, are you glad to be home?”

Taylor thought before she answered. “Yeah, I am.”

“You sound surprised. Your mom has really wanted you to come for a visit.”

“I know.” Just how close were they? Evidently close enough to discuss her travel plans. Taylor picked at her food. She caught sight of Pete talking to her mom in her peripheral vision. She nodded in his direction. “Pete’s worked for you a long time. What kind of work does he do?”

“Oh, a little of this, a little of that. I wish he would finish his last year of college and go to law school. I’d help him get started in a heartbeat.”

“Pete?” A lawyer. Wonders would never cease.

“Pete would make a great lawyer. He has a phenomenal memory—beats your uncle all the time at blackjack . . . and chess, and he has a grasp of the law that amazes me. Unfortunately, he’d rather drift from one place to another. When he shows up in Logan Point for a few months, Jonathan and I nab him before anyone else can.”

“Do you know where all he’s traveled?”

Ethan took a sip of tea. “Let’s see. New York . . . Florida . . . I think he was in Atlanta for a while . . . Louisiana too, I think. He really should write a book about his travels.”

Pete had lived in some of the same states she had. “Do you know if he’s been to Washington State?”

“Hadn’t heard him say. You ought to ask him sometime.”

Her mother waved, and they both waved back. “Have you received word about the judgeship nomination yet?”

Now he really seemed about to burst, and she stared at him. “You’ve heard!”

“It’ll be officially announced Monday morning, but yes, I am the new judge on the Tennessee Court of Appeals.”

“Congratulations! Does Mom know?”

“I told her earlier.”

Her mother could certainly keep a secret. “So will you be moving to Nashville?”

“Oh no. I’ll be on the panel that meets in Jackson, so I’ll be staying in Memphis most of the time. Although I have bought a condo to stay in so I don’t have to drive back and forth when we’re in session. Actually, Pete is driving over in the morning to start work on it.”

She glanced toward her mother again. “I can’t believe Mom didn’t say something.”

“She is very discreet,” Ethan said. He put his plate down and turned to face Taylor. “I’m fond of your mother. I hope that’s acceptable.”

His eyes challenged her. She gulped a breath of air. “I’m not sure how I feel. It’s hard to see my mother in that light. Even though my father’s been gone a long time, I just—”

“Your mother deserves to be happy.” His tone indicated he could provide that. “I don’t think you should keep reminding her of the past.”

“What are you saying?”

He shrugged. “Your questions about your father are upsetting. Not only to her but your uncle as well.”

“They told you that?”

“They didn’t have to. I see it.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think hiding from the truth is a solution. We’d all be better off if we found him and got some answers.” She worried her food around the plate. “You went with Jonathan to take him to the airport. What do you remember?”

“That was a long time ago.” He turned and stared toward the
lake, then shifted back to face her. “I came to the picnic, and afterward Jonathan and I dropped your father at the airport. We probably didn’t even park.” He gave her an apologetic smile. “I was in my twenties, didn’t pay much attention to things like taking people to the airport.”

“You don’t remember anything else?”

“I’m sorry. I wouldn’t even remember that if he hadn’t disappeared. And for your mom’s sake, let this go.”

Taylor sighed. “I wish I could.”

T
he wicker swing faced the west, giving Nick a perfect view of the sun edging toward the horizon. His soles scuffed against the boards on Kate’s front porch as he glided back and forth in a slow rhythm. The hospital had discharged Scott, and he was sleeping peacefully upstairs. Nick had talked with Taylor. She was coming over. He traced his finger around the links in the chain holding the swing.

For the first time since his wife’s death, the jagged edges of his heart had begun to heal. Not that he’d forgotten Angie, but he’d moved past the pain. In some ways, Taylor was like Angie. Gutsy and bulldog determined.

Her car swung into the drive. Seconds later, his heart kicked up a notch as she got out of her SUV, and he took in the length of her tanned legs, the trimness of her body, the curve of her lips as she smiled at him.

“Beautiful evening,” Taylor said as she climbed the porch steps and sat beside him on the small swing, bringing with her the light fragrance of honeysuckle.

“Yeah, it’s my favorite time of day,” he said. Conversation waned as the swing creaked back and forth and the sun dipped below the horizon, leaving behind streaks of pale apricot, burnished reds, and smoky blues.

“Mine too. Everything is all soft and beautiful,” she said.

Like her. She had taken her hair out of the French braid, and it curled delicately around her face and neck.
Focus
.
“Thanks for coming.”

She ducked her head, a blush creeping into her face as she turned, facing him with one leg tucked beneath the other. “How’s Scott?”

“So-so. Still shaky. Sleeping a lot.” He rested his arm on the back of the swing, very much aware of her nearness. “He talked a little on the way home from the hospital, repeated what he said last night—still swears he never stalked you. Before you came tonight, I remember something he said once before about liking to be where you were because you were nice to him. I think that’s why he kept popping up wherever you were.”

“That’s a stretch.”

“If I remember correctly, Newton is pretty small. Wouldn’t be hard to keep running into the same person.”

Taylor gave him a gentle smile. “You just don’t give up on your brother, do you?”

“I’m all he has.” He wanted to quit talking about his brother and just take her in his arms. But he couldn’t, not until he laid his case out. “I still believe someone set him up to take the fall the night of the assault. Deputy Thornton said your door was jimmied. I believe Scott was lured there by your assailant to take the fall.”

Taylor leaned back in the swing, a frown creasing her brow. “Any ideas on who this assailant is?”

“He met a guy in Newton who befriended him.”

“This guy, does he have a name?”

“Digger.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“I wish.” Nick took a deep breath. He hadn’t mentioned Digger’s name in the email, only that Scott had called someone. “Scott claims he doesn’t know his real name. But he’s the one Scott called to come and get him from your house.”

“I’ll call Sheriff Atkins. Maybe one of his deputies can ask
around at the university and see if anyone remembers seeing Scott with someone.”

He could see Taylor processing the information. He didn’t blame her for being skeptical. Even knowing his brother and how he always got himself into messes, it still sounded crazy. “I think Scott is telling the truth.”

She dropped her hands in her lap and held his gaze, her blue eyes the same color as the smoky blue streaking the sky. A wayward strand of hair curled across her cheek, and he wanted to touch it, brush it behind her ear.

“I admire your loyalty,” she said, her voice husky.

Taylor’s voice lured him, and he touched her cheek, trailing his finger to her jaw. Her luminous eyes held his, and his heart caught at the hope and fear in them. The intoxicating scent of her perfume drew him closer until his lips touched hers, soft and warm, igniting a bonfire in his heart. When she responded, everything faded. Nothing else mattered. He pulled her closer, kissing her long and hard.

“Wow,” he murmured when they broke apart.

“Double wow.”

Nick flicked off the lamp beside his bed. He’d spent the last hour trying to figure out this growing relationship with Taylor. He flipped on his side, but his thoughts followed him. Taylor made him excited about living again . . . but was he ready to unlock the door to his heart?

Fine time to wonder that, after he’d kissed her twice. He was pretty sure she didn’t give her kisses to just anyone.

What was the worst that could happen?

Taylor could get hurt. She already felt that her father, then Michael, and even God had rejected her. If their relationship didn’t work out, she would see it as another rejection, and he didn’t want that. But—

“No! Stop!”

Scott.

Nick bounded from bed and ran into his brother’s room. Scott kicked at the sheet twisted around his ankles.

“Scott! Wake up!”

“Stop him!”

“Stop who?” Nick asked.

Scott’s eyes flew open. He stared at Nick, his eyes wild. Gradually he relaxed. “Nobody,” he mumbled. “I was dreaming.”

“More like a nightmare. Here, drink this.”

His brother’s hand shook as he reached for the glass of water Nick handed him. He gulped the water and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Where am I?”

“Logan Point.”

“Oh . . . yeah. The old lady’s house. What time is it?”

“Midnight,” Nick replied. “Have the shakes started again? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“No.” Scott’s voice cracked. “Don’t take me back.”

“Scott, I really think you need more help than I can give you.”

“I’ll be okay. Done this before on my own. Couple of days is all I need.” He held his ribs and rocked forward. “Give me two of the Valium they sent home with me.”

Nick went to his bedroom and shook two pills into his hand. He returned and handed them to Scott. There should be something else he could do.

“Thanks.” Scott popped the pills in his mouth and swallowed them with a swig of water. He sank into the bed and closed his eyes.

“Want me to tell you a bedtime story?”

Scott cracked one eye open. “Are you serious?”

Nick grinned. “I can sit here and talk until you get sleepy.” He moved a chair to the side of the bed. “Remember that home run you hit in the playoffs when you were twelve?”

A spark of interest flicked in Scott’s eyes. “Yeah, I had a pretty good game that day.”

Fifteen minutes later, Scott’s eyelids drooped. Nick stood. “I’m going to bed.”

“I’ll try not to wake you again.”

“Okay, but remember I’m across the hall if you need me.”

He was almost out the door when Scott called his name. Nick turned around.

“I didn’t hurt Dr. Martin or that sheriff.”

Nick studied the guileless face of his brother. “I believe you, Scott. We’ll find a way out of this mess.”

T
enth pew, middle of the row—Taylor took her seat beside her mom just as she had every Sunday morning of her childhood. She noted that when sunshine filtered through the stained-glass windows, it still splashed a rainbow of color on the pew in front of her. Just like when she was a child and believed God answered prayer.

Seeing Nick’s faith made her question if she might be wrong about God. But if God cared about her, wouldn’t he have answered her prayer about her dad? What would Nick say about that? She smoothed a wrinkle that creased her white linen skirt, then tucked a stray curl behind her ear, remembering how Nick had done the same thing. Right before he kissed her. She closed her eyes, savoring the memory of his kiss. She wanted to believe he was ready for a relationship, but maybe it was too soon, like Livy said.

The organ struck the first chord of the call to worship, and everyone stood. Chase and Abby sat two rows up with Kate. Taylor craned her neck around to find her uncle. “Where’s Jonathan?” she whispered to her mother.

“He came to the early service,” her mother whispered back.

Early service? There’d been no early service when she was a teenager. She opened the songbook her mother handed her. “Praise God from whom all blessings flow.” In spite of her resolve to do
nothing more than sit, Taylor joined in on the familiar song. “Praise him all creatures here below.”

Taylor sensed someone to her right, and then a warm baritone joined in the song, and her heart fluttered in her throat. Nick.

“Praise him above ye heavenly hosts; praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.”

She cut her eyes to the right and gave him a shy smile. He winked, and Taylor reminded herself to breathe. The song ended, and as they sat, Taylor leaned over and whispered, “Who’s with Scott?”

“Kate’s husband, Charlie.”

Taylor tried not to react. Letting Charlie look after Scott was like putting the fox in charge of the henhouse, but she didn’t tell Nick. No need to worry him.

After several songs, some she remembered and some she didn’t, the pastor came to the pulpit. Taylor glanced at the bulletin.
Reverend Carl Thompson, senior pastor
. Not the same one who’d been here when she left.

The reverend directed the congregation to a passage in Luke. When Nick turned to the Scripture, she flushed. She hadn’t brought a Bible. Nick’s eyes flicked to her empty lap, and he placed his where she could read along with him.

The book was worn, and Nick had underlined some of the verses. She half attempted to focus on the sermon, but her thoughts kept wandering to Nick and how his leg was almost touching hers. He reached for a pen from the holder attached to the pew in front of them, and Taylor jerked her mind back to the pastor.

As Reverend Thompson spoke about lost sheep, her mind wandered again.
Don’t think about Nick. Think about the meeting
tomorrow.
She needed to leave the house by nine to meet Livy at Rob Wilson’s house. She tried to imagine why some of the notes in the case file were missing. Hopefully, Wilson could find his personal notes on the case.

Her mother nudged her and looked pointedly toward Taylor’s
left foot, which was swinging furiously. She stilled her foot, and finally it was time to sing the closing hymn.

Nick’s baritone and her mother’s alto blended, creating a sound so beautiful that chills ran down Taylor’s spine. “Come home. Ye who are weary, come home . . .”

As the last note ended, Taylor turned to leave, and her mother intercepted her. “Taylor, do you want to introduce me to your friend?”

Not really. Knowing her mom, she would read more into their relationship than what it was, even seeing it as a way to get Taylor back to Logan Point. But as she was trapped between the two, and Nick seemed to expect an introduction, she pasted a smile on her lips. “Uh, Nick, I’d like you to meet my mom, Allison Martin.”

He grasped her mom’s hand. “It’s my pleasure, Mrs. Martin.”

“Call me Allison. I’ve read all your books so I feel like I already know you.” She linked her arm in Nick’s. “And thank you so much for autographing my copy of your last one.”

“My pleasure.”

“Would you like to join us for Sunday dinner?” her mom asked. Taylor held her breath. As much as she’d like to spend time with him, Nick and her family and Sunday dinner wasn’t what she had in mind.

Nick hesitated. “I’d like to, but I better get back to the B and B and check on my brother. Maybe another time.”

She breathed again.

“We’ll see after your brother,” Kate said as she and Chase and Abby joined them.

Taylor introduced her brother to Nick.

“You visit with the Martins,” Kate said. “It’ll give you an opportunity to tell them about that camp.”

There was going to be no escaping it, she could feel it in her bones.

“I’ve made chicken and dressing,” Mom added.

“In that case, I accept.”

Oh, boy. Taylor’s emotions swung from one end of the spectrum to the other. She wasn’t ready to share Nick with her family. Now every time she talked to Mom, her mom would want to know what was going on with them. It was too early for that kind of pressure. Yet part of her wanted him there—the part that enjoyed torture
.

Exactly as she expected, Nick was a big hit with the family. He and Chase connected right away. Jonathan joined the conversation when it turned to sports, and Nick even wowed little Abby. Taylor couldn’t deny feeling a little left out. She could understand him wanting to make a good impression, but to practically ignore her? Evidently, she had totally misread the kiss last night. Nothing new there.

Sometime during the meal, her mother left the table and returned with Nick’s other two books. She placed them on the buffet. “Would you mind autographing those before you leave?”

“Sure.”

Taylor noted a redness creep up his neck. It amused her that he was uncomfortable with his fame.

“When will your next book be out?” Mom asked as she sliced a chocolate cake.

“Publication date is set for November. I’ll see to it that you get an advance copy.”

Mom beamed. “Thank you. I’ll treasure it.”

“What did Kate mean about a camp?” Chase asked.

Nick turned to her brother. “It’s my dream to start a boys’ camp, and Kate thought I might find land around here.”

“How much land are you talking about?” Jonathan asked.

“At least twenty acres.” As Nick shared his dreams with her family, his words drew Taylor into his vision.

After the meal, when the men adjourned to the library, she wanted to join them but instead helped clear the table.

“It’s good to hear Chase laugh,” her mother commented. “And maybe Nick looking for a piece of land is an answer to my prayers.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Over the years, we’ve bought up several tracts of land at the lake. One of them has twenty acres. Doesn’t have much lake frontage, but it has a boathouse. Maybe if we all signed our part over to Jonathan . . .”

Taylor saw where her mom’s thoughts were going. That would be one answer. “Did Nick autograph your books?”

“Not yet, and if he forgets, something tells me Nick Sinclair will be returning.”

“What do you mean?”

“The way he looks at you—he’ll be back.”

“Really, Mom, he’s barely even spoken to me this afternoon.” And she wasn’t going to give him another opportunity to ignore her. Pleading a headache, Taylor escaped upstairs as soon as she could. She unbraided her hair and brushed it, letting it fall softly around her shoulders, then changed into shorts and a shirt and considered her running shoes. As tempting as running away was, it would be rude, and Southern hospitality was one thing Michael
hadn’t
drummed out of her. Beside the fact she’d promised her mother she wouldn’t go out running alone.

She picked up her father’s file instead and sat on her bed, searching for the detective’s notes. Taylor frowned. Okay, where were they? She was certain she’d copied them. She flipped through the case file she’d profiled for Livy and found Wilson’s notes and the copy of the letter her father had mailed near the back. She didn’t remember putting them in the victim’s folder. As she perused the notes, a knock interrupted her. “Who is it?” she barked.

“It’s me, Abby.” Her niece’s voice sounded small.

“I’m sorry, honey, come on in.”

The door opened, and Abby peeked around the door frame, her blue eyes huge. “Are you mad, Aunt Tay?”

“No, not mad, just kind of busy. But never too busy for you. Climb up here with me.” Taylor set the files on the table beside her bed. “What’s that in your hands?”

“I colored a picture for you during church. Daddy says coloring keeps me still. It’s David and Goliath.”

“Let me see.” Taylor held the picture up. “Good job. I’ll take this back to Newton with me.”

“Why don’t you stay here?”

“Oh, I have a job there and things I have to do. How are things going with you?” she asked, wrapping her arms around the girl’s thin shoulders.

“Okay.”

“Really?”

“Most of the time.” Abby picked at a loose thread in the bedspread, and Taylor stroked her niece’s hair. After a few minutes, Abby took a deep breath. “Did you and Mommy play together when you were my age?”

“We sure did.”

“Did she look like me?”

Taylor grinned and poked Abby in the belly as she tickled her. “She looked a lot like you. She was
skinny
like you, and she had
freckles
like you.”

Abby giggled and tried to wriggle away. Taylor held her fast, and she giggled again. “No, really, Aunt Tay. Do I look like my mommy?”

Taylor hugged her. “Except for your hair, you do. Her hair was almost the color of carrots.”

Abby heaved a child-size sigh. “Why did she go away? Did I do something wrong?”

The questions echoed in Taylor’s heart. The same questions she’d asked about her dad for twenty years. And no matter how many times Taylor told herself that it wasn’t her fault her dad left, she never believed it, not down deep where it mattered. She had to do a better job convincing Abby.

“No, honey, you didn’t do anything wrong. Sometimes adults do really dumb things. I want you to always remember that it wasn’t your fault your mommy left.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” Why couldn’t she claim that same promise? Why did she feel responsible for her father’s disappearance?

“Then why did she leave?”

“I’m not sure.” Taylor chose her words carefully. “Sometimes a person’s thinking gets messed up. They think that everything they do is wrong, and if they go away, everyone will be better off. That’s what might have happened to your mommy.”

“So, if her thinking gets better, she’ll come home?”

Taylor didn’t want to give Abby false hope. “I don’t know. I hope so. But you have your dad, and your two grannas, and me and Livy, Grandpa Charlie . . . and Uncle Jonathan. So don’t be sad.”

“I’m not, but I miss my mommy.” Abby turned so her face was even with Taylor’s. She cocked her head to the side. “Aunt Tay, are
you
sad?”

“Sometimes.”

“You shouldn’t be, not if you have Jesus in your heart. Did Daddy tell you I’m going to be baptized before school starts?” Abby placed her small hands on either side of Taylor’s face. Her blue eyes locked into Taylor’s. “Do you have Jesus in your heart? He doesn’t want you to be sad. He cares about you.”

She’d believed that once. Enough to walk down the aisle one Sunday morning with Livy. “I—”

Jonathan’s voice boomed through the closed door. “Abby, you in there? Time to go to play practice.”

She squeezed Abby’s hands. “We’ll have to finish talking about this later. Come on in, Jonathan.”

Jonathan cracked the door. “Y’all having a hen party?”

Abby giggled. “That’s funny, Uncle Jonathan.” She turned to Taylor. “Do you want to go with us? We’re doing
The Wizard of
Oz
, and I’m Dorothy.”

“
The Wizard of Oz
?” She looked at Jonathan. “That’s an undertaking. What part do you play?”

“I am Professor Marvel, aka the Wizard,” Jonathan replied with a deep bow.

“Wow.”

“Will you come with us?” Abby pleaded.

Taylor glanced toward the papers on the bedside table.

“I think she has other plans,” her uncle said.

Taylor shot him a quizzical glance, but her uncle simply smiled.

“Another time,” she promised.

Jonathan turned to leave. “Oh, by the way, Nick’s looking for you. He’s waiting downstairs. That’s a nice young man you have there.”

“He’s not
my
nice young man.” Why did her heart have to betray her, fluttering like a canary on steroids? “Did he say what he wanted?”

Jonathan’s shoulders lifted in an exaggerated shrug. “Now why would he be telling me what he wanted?”

Taylor followed Jonathan and Abby down the stairs. Nick leaned by the door, sport coat slung over his shoulder and tie dangling from his hand. He straightened when he saw her. From the look in his eye, she knew he was remembering their kiss.

Abby stopped in front of Nick and cocked her head up at him. “Are you going to be Aunt Tay’s boyfriend?”