Warning Signs (Love Inspired Suspense) (16 page)

She caught sight of Stephanie’s coat hanging from the closet door hook. It looked right at home—as though it had hung there many times before.

Miriam tapped Owen’s arm to get his attention. “Ask her if she’s been here before.”

“Yes,” Stephanie answered Owen. “We’ve been seeing each other in private.”

Owen started to translate, but Miriam cut him off. “I got it.” She signed to Nick, “Is this true?”

She took his refusal to answer as a yes.

Miriam felt the first boiling bubble of her anger burst. “I know you’ve been misinterpreting my words, too, Nick. Why? All I want to know is why?”

Nick’s stare seared her before he flipped over on his side, giving her his back.

He’d shut her out.

Just like her mother.

Miriam closed her eyes, breathing through the effect from that memory. This was when she normally would have prayed
slow to anger
, but couldn’t make herself say it. Right now she wanted to get mad. She wanted give Nick everything he had coming to him. How dare he do the one thing he knew would hurt her?

Tears pricked her eyes. She hated that more. Why was she crying? Miriam covered her face to hide her tears.

Tears...not anger.

Could it be that what she had in her was not anger after all, but a deep sadness? Rooted back to when the little girl in her worked so hard to show her mother she was worth her love? If only she would accept her. If only she would talk to her.

Instead she shut her out.

Just as Nick had. Miriam had to face that this might be her life. That no matter what she did, she would never prove her worth to anyone.

Owen pulled her hands from her face and studied her with his intense onyx irises.

Lord, is this man any different?
Miriam prayed that Owen was different. He had to be. A little boy’s life depended on it. Cole needed Owen’s unconditional love.

He rubbed away the tears on her cheek.
So gentle,
she thought and breathed more easily. Owen’s differences showed in his touch and compassion. Hadn’t he demonstrated his acceptance of her when he’d refused to handcuff her right hand? He was different.

He withdrew his hand to sign, “I need to get you out of here. It’s not safe.”

Miriam noticed her secretary standing by the exit, her arms crossed at her chest. “What’s going on?” Miriam signed to Owen.

“Look on the nightstand. There’s a gold bracelet. Do you own anything like that?”

Miriam glanced at the wooden surface and saw the piece of jewelry. She shook her head. “I don’t wear jewelry around my wrist. It gets in the way of signing. Why?”

Owen eyed Stephanie. Something about that bracelet had him shielding her from her secretary. He took hold of Miriam’s hand and pulled her back through the cottage. At the cruiser, they shuffled inside across the driver’s seat.

“What’s going on?” she asked again with a frustrated hand.

“I saw one of those bracelets on the floor of your car before it went up in flames. I’m thinking it was Stephanie who locked you in the bathroom and hid your car in the woods.”

“Seriously?” Her hands shook at what else this might mean. “Do you think Nick helped her?”

“On the night you were locked in that bathroom, Nick came back. I’m thinking he’s working with her.”

This was worse than shutting her out. If Nick had locked her in that room, then he really was like her mother.

In a daze, Miriam faced the passenger window. A mother and child rolling a red ball in the yard next door caught her eye.

The little girl looked so happy. Both of them wore huge smiles that told Miriam they were laughing together.

“Once upon a time I would have given anything to laugh with my mother like that. Even my right hand.”

Owen didn’t respond.

Miriam twisted in her seat to find him sullen, watching the parent and child, too.

She leaned in, having an idea why. “It’s not too late for you and your son, Owen.” She touched his forearm, doing her best to dredge up a smile to encourage him.

Owen withdrew her hand but didn’t push her away. He studied her palm while he traced circles over it with his thumb. He let go to look straight at her and sign, “I’m no better than Nick. No better than your mother. I’ve been just like them. But I hope you’re right. I hope it’s not too late for Cole and me.”

Owen hesitated. A weird expression crossed his face. Weird, but not unfamiliar.

Miriam remembered that look when lifeguard Andy had ended their relationship. The “I don’t want to hurt you, but I’m about to” look.

But this didn’t make sense. Owen had kissed her that morning. Her lips still tingled where he had touched her so intimately. She had to be reading his expression wrong now. Maybe he still worried that he wouldn’t be able to accept his son.

That had to be it. She lifted her hands to reply, “It’s not too late, and I hope that I can help—”

Owen flinched and reached for his cell phone.

A text disrupted them.

Talk about the most ill-timed moment. Nerves quivered in her belly while she waited.

Owen dropped the cell to the seat between them and started the engine.

“Buckle up,” he signed.

“Wait.” This was important. Miriam needed to finish what was on her heart, but Owen hit Reverse and sped out down the street. “Where are we going?”

“Your house.” He shot her a grave look with one hand on the wheel and one in the air to sign. “The drugs are gone.”

TWELVE

“W
hat is
she
doing here?” Wes bellowed as soon as Owen and Miriam entered the basement room. “She’s in custody.” Wes jabbed a finger in Miriam’s direction.

Owen replied, “First of all, I told you I would guard her, which I am. Second, she’s got an ROR.”

“You went above me? I could have your badge for this.”

“Oh, forget about it, Wes. You know as well as I do that she’s not guilty. Look around you.” He referenced the empty room that the marijuana packages had filled yesterday. “This room was locked up from the outside. You put one of your own men out there to guard it. Those drugs went out the same way they came in.” Owen pointed a square outline on the floor. “Through the trapdoor.”

“That doesn’t mean she’s not involved.” Wes squinted in Miriam’s direction. “She could have had her accomplice take it out. That would be a lot of money to lose, I’m thinking.”

Miriam tugged Owen’s hand. He noticed a masked fear darkening her eyes as she led him to the trapdoor.

A conflict of pride and protectiveness warred within him. Her bravery to be there astounded him, but he couldn’t shut out the part of him that wanted to tear her from the room and burn the place down so she would never have to revisit it again.

As though she could read his mind, she signed, “I’m okay. I want to do this.”

Owen bit down on the backs of his teeth, hating that he had to let her. “Show me how to open it.”

They bent down together. She felt around until she found the right board and lifted it to reveal a handle. “Turn it and pull it up.”

As he pulled, a sound upstairs alerted him to someone entering the house.

Wes said, “I’ll be right back.” His lips curled with derision as he pointed his finger at Miriam. “You better not run off.”

“Yeah, like she’s going to run off in a dark tunnel,” Owen retorted. “Where would she go?”

“If she knows how to open this, then it would seem she would know where it leads. She may have fooled the school board into giving her a job, but she hasn’t fooled me,” Wes replied, tossing his flashlight to Owen.

“Man, what is your problem?” Owen caught the flashlight with one hand.

“Oh, please. You said so yourself—you couldn’t believe a deaf person could be the principal of a hearing school.” Wes stomped out of the room.

Owen whipped around to find a quizzical expression scrunching Miriam’s face. Had she understood?

The trapdoor became his focus. He felt sick knowing she probably had. Owen threw open the hatch in a harsh, quick movement. A black pit loomed below. Cool air rushed at his face as he strained to see the bottom. Remembering Miriam had been dropped into this hole with bound hands had him chancing a glance in her direction again.

Her face blanched. She signed, “You go first. I’ll follow.”

Willingly she agreed to relive her nightmare. This had to be pure torture for her. “You’re not going in alone,” he signed. “I’m with you all the way. It’s not the same as before. Understand?”

A hint of a shaking smile curved up one corner of her mouth. Owen stood and brought a finger up to stop the quivering. It lingered on her soft, parted lips, which calmed beneath his touch.

But his earlier hurtful words pulled him back. If Miriam knew what he’d said, she would be crushed. He yanked himself away to hide the truth in the darkness below.

His feet clomped down on the wooden steps.

Miriam followed him, brushing up against his back when she hit the bottom. Her breath came shallow and fast on the back of his neck. He should distance himself from her, but in the dark he could forget he’d failed her just as he had failed his son.

He’d failed to see them as people before he saw their deafness.

Owen felt her trembling hands on his back. He understood how she feared the dark—the place where she stopped existing.

Owen faced her to take her in his arms. He pressed her into his chest, wanting her to feel his heartbeat. He wanted to remind her that he would walk right beside her the whole way. His fingers trailed into her long, silky strands and up toward her scalp. The tips of his fingers left lasting sensory impressions to carry her through the passageway.

And for him to carry the memory of her when he left her for good.

* * *

Owen flicked on the flashlight. The high-powered beam revealed the sharp angles of dark rock that would surround them for the hopefully brief excursion.

“Better?” he signed after she lifted her head to see the passage. Her hand still gripped the back of his shirt. With one final sweep down her hair, he stepped back out of her grasp. “Tap me if you want to sign, and I’ll put the light on you. Okay?”

“Yes,” she signed with wide-eyed intensity.

With a flick of his wrist, the beam diverted to the narrow passage to their right. Before he could take a step, he felt her tap his shoulder. He put her back into the light.

“Thank you, Owen,” she signed. Something so simple, but after she spelled out his name, she put the letter
O
over her heart. She gave him his own name sign. Her words to Cole came back.
It’s more special when it comes from someone who loves you.

Loves you.

He shouldn’t be surprised she felt this way. Truth be told, her feelings thrilled him. But regardless of that, they had no future, and Owen couldn’t let her go on thinking they did. He had a relationship to fix with his son. And she deserved someone who didn’t struggle with her deafness. Someone who didn’t see it as a disability, but rather a quality that made her unique. “That’s not necessary,” he signed and turned away.

After about twenty steps, Miriam tapped him again. He bathed her in the light’s glow. “Is there a problem with calling you that? I only wanted you to know how important you are to me.”

Owen’s jaw twitched. “Let’s keep things business, okay?”

Shock marred her face. The eerie light beam hid none of her disappointment. “Sure,” she signed flippantly. “Let’s forget it, Owen.” She spelled out his name slowly and clearly. She got his message, and he got hers. He was here for business, and she would keep it that way.

Owen put her back into the darkness and walked on ahead of her. Then he realized he’d walked on too far. He’d left Miriam’s side. Now he’d broken his promise to walk beside her. What was wrong with him?

Owen pivoted to go back and apologize. He made the sign with his fisted hand and searched for her in the darkness.

But came up empty.

With a growing urgency, he flicked the flashlight in different directions. His apology on his fisted hand dropped with the plummeting of his stomach. He was too little, too late.

Miriam was gone.

* * *

Miriam’s feet refused to budge. The beam from Owen’s flashlight grew more distant with each step he took from her. She should run to catch up, but his rejection of her and her name sign knocked her steps out of rhythm.

She stood motionless, remembering what Wes had said about Owen not believing a deaf person could be the principal of a hearing school. After Wes had spoken, Miriam had hoped she’d read his lips wrong. She gave Owen the benefit of the doubt, until he’d made it clear he was only here for business. Now she knew her reading had been accurate.

Miriam took her first step.

Backward.

Her pace picked up, separating her from Owen with more than just physical distance. Each step away, each blind and jarring collision with the sharp, black walls, smashed to bits the tender trust she had given him.

She’d been wrong. He was just like everyone else.

Miriam covered her lips with her fingertips, remembering their kiss.

Her fingertips lingered where he’d touched her so sweetly just that morning. She wished partly to wipe it away, partly to seal the memory in for always.
Just what I need,
she scoffed as she approached the stairs
. Another memory to torment me.

The trapdoor remained open above. Sheriff Grant traipsed through her house somewhere up there. She had no desire to run into him any more than she did Owen. She wasn’t ready to put her backbone on and face the world yet. She was tired of proving her worth and—in Sheriff Grant’s case—her innocence.

At the foot of the stairs, she glanced in the direction she’d walked in her dreams so many times. The opposite way Owen had gone. She would have told him, but his snub had thrown her.

Miriam stepped off in the direction of her dream and allowed her memory to filter in. Each expected turn proved she’d walked this path before. Each sharp corner flashed a memory of pain she’d suffered in her bumps and falls as a child. So lonely and scared she’d been that night.

But not today. Her broken heart and disappointment curtailed any fear she should have had in the dark, tight quarters. She let her dream guide her. At one point she came to a fork, but she pulled from her memory and stepped forward to her right confidently. The open cavern wouldn’t be far. A few more turns and she would be there.

Miriam picked up her speed in anxious excitement. She was so close. Would the full memory finally be revealed to her when she got there? Would she remember who the woman was? Would she see the face that went with the hands and ring? She took the next right and saw a faint flickering light ahead.

Miriam halted, wondering if her mind played tricks on her. Was she dreaming again?

Or was someone in this passageway with her? In the same room she’d been in years before?

A few more steps and Miriam took the turn into the cavern as she had in her dream, her memory. Her gaze shot to where the woman had once sat. The chair remained, but it was empty. The candle on the table still flickered brightly. Miriam scanned the empty cavern, first to her right, then to her left and froze.

The cavern wasn’t empty.

Ben Thibodaux stood across the room, leaning against the wall and not at all surprised to see her.

The gun he pointed at her confirmed that.