Shirlee McCoy

Lakeview Protector


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had been killed, before she understood what true grief was, before she realized that a heart could be torn in two and still go on beating. It could. It did. And she had no choice but to keep living, to keep doing her best to find the path she was supposed to travel.

      Whatever that might be.

      She sighed, walking down the hall and into her room, wishing she had the kind of faith that would make her feel as if something good would eventually come of her loss. She knew it was what she was supposed to believe; it was even what she wanted to believe. She just wasn’t sure she did believe it. How could good come from losing the only man she’d ever loved? How could it come from losing the children she would have given her own life to save?

      “Faith needs to be a little easier, Lord. A little more concrete. Not feelings and emotions and hunches, but firmly grounded facts.” She snatched the sketch pad from the desk, but couldn’t focus enough to do any drawing. She’d known coming to Lakeview would be difficult, but she’d thought she was far enough away from the tragedy and her grief not to let the memories get to her. Apparently she’d been wrong.

      The doorbell rang, and she hurried back toward the living room, motioning for Sarah to relax back down onto the sofa she was struggling up from. “I’ll get it. It’s probably the security company.”

      “Just remember, you’re not paying for the system to be installed.”

      Jazz ignored the comment as she pulled open the door. She expected to see a uniformed representative of A-plus Security Systems; maybe an older man carrying a clipboard and a DVD featuring underpaid actors telling tales of break-in horrors.

      That was what she expected to see. What she actually saw was Eli. Standing in the shadow of the porch, backlit by watery sunlight, he looked dark and dangerous. More like the man she’d met at the cabin the previous day than the charming, easygoing guy she’d spoken to that morning. The dichotomy bothered her. Who was he, really? “Eli. What can I do for you this afternoon?”

      “I was hoping to speak with Sarah.”

      “About?”

      “No need to screen my visitors, dear. Come on in, Eli,” Sarah called out from the living room, and Jasmine’s cheeks heated.

      Eli shot a half smile in her direction before moving past, the scent of him tickling her nose as he stepped into the house—spicy, masculine. Compelling.

      Her heart jumped and a million butterflies danced in her stomach. She didn’t like it. She should not be having this kind of reaction to the man. She would not have this kind of reaction to him.

      She took a deep breath and followed Eli into the living room. He’d already taken a seat on the recliner and was leaning toward Sarah, his elbows on his knees, his golden eyes focused on her. If he noticed that Jazz had stepped up beside him, he didn’t acknowledge it. She had a feeling, though, that he had noticed. She was pretty sure there wasn’t much he missed.

      “Sorry for dropping by uninvited, Sarah.”

      “There’s no need to apologize. I’m always glad to have visitors.” Sarah smiled at him as if he were a Publishers Clearing House representative offering her a giant-sized check, her eyes sparkling for the first time since Jazz had arrived in town.

      “Thanks. I had a few questions I wanted to ask if you don’t mind.”

      “About the rental? Is everything okay with the cabin?”

      “The cabin is fine. It’s probably the best accommodations I’ve had all year.”

      “I’m glad. So, what did you want to ask about?”

      “A young lady named Mary Cornell. I heard she worked for you until a couple of months ago. Is that true?”

      At his words, Sarah stiffened. Not much, but enough for Jazz to notice. She tensed, too, curious and somehow anxious though she wasn’t sure why.

      “Yes, it is. She worked here for six months.” Sarah leaned back in her seat, and Jazz was sure she was doing her best to look relaxed and unconcerned. It wasn’t working. Tension rolled off her, filling the room and demanding attention.

      “She quit a few months ago?”

      “Six or seven weeks ago, I think. I hired another college student a few days later.”

      “Did Mary give you a reason for quitting?”

      Sarah hesitated for a heartbeat, just long enough for Jazz to notice. “No.”

      It was a lie. Jasmine knew her mother-in-law well enough to recognize the tightness in her jaw, the frown line between her brows. What was she hiding and why was she hiding it? Curious, Jasmine took a seat in the old rocking chair that sat beside the recliner. The rocking chair she’d rocked the girls to sleep in. The one she hadn’t had the heart to give away to anyone but family.

      The time-worn wood of the armrest felt warm beneath her suddenly chilled fingers, and she clutched it tight as if that could anchor her in the present.

      “I spoke to Mary’s pastor earlier. He said she left seven weeks ago. Her parents haven’t seen her since.”

      “That’s a shame.” Sarah’s response was noncommittal, and Jazz was sure she knew a lot more about Mary than she was letting on.

      “Yeah, her mom is pretty broken up about it.” Eli paused, his gaze sharply focused. “Her father thinks you might know something. According to the pastor, he seems pretty convinced that you know where his daughter is. That you might even have helped her leave.”

      Sarah blanched, but she didn’t look away. “Maybe if Jackson Cornell had been as interested in helping his daughter pursue her dreams as he is in making accusations, Mary wouldn’t have felt the need to run away.”

      “So she was running away from her father?”

      “I don’t know her reasons, but I do know that things weren’t easy at home. Her parents and that hardnosed pastor of theirs didn’t agree with her plans to attend college. They wanted her to marry right out of high school. It was ludicrous.”

      “Lots of people do that, Sarah.”

      “Of course they do. I did. But I was in love. Mary wasn’t.”

      “It sounds like you know a lot about her.”

      “That doesn’t mean I know where she is, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

      “I was. I need to speak with her about Rebecca McKenna.”

      “Rebecca fell out of love with her husband and in love with a man she met at Liberty University. It’s as simple as that.”

      “Maybe so, Sarah, or maybe not. Until I find Rebecca, I can’t know for sure what happened.”

      “And I suppose there is a reason you need to find her?”

      “I’m doing a favor for a friend. Someone still in Iraq. He asked me to find his sister and make sure she’s okay.”

      “Then I wish I could help you, but Mary’s the one who told me Rebecca ran off with another man. I doubt she has anything else to add to the story.”

      “I’d still like to speak with her. Do you know how I can get in touch with her?”

      There was another minute hesitation before Sarah spoke. She was going to lie again. Jasmine knew it as well as she knew her own name.

      “No.”

      “You’re sure?”

      “Young man, I may be recovering from hip surgery, but I assure you there is nothing wrong with my brain. I’m very sure that I can’t help you get in touch with Mary.”

      Did Eli notice the odd phrasing of Sarah’s response? Jazz dared a quick look in his direction, saw the tightness of his jaw and the frown that added more than a hint of danger to his hard-angled face. “A woman is missing. If