than a good chance that both he and his deputy would be spending Christmas Day behind bars.
Joanna walked toward the exit of Godspeed General Hospital, past the huge twinkling tree in the foyer and out into the frigid evening air. The festive lights of Godspeed lay before them, reminding her that everyone else in town was preparing for happy days ahead.
“We don’t have much time,” Tyler said, removing her cuffs and sitting her in the back of the cruiser. “In about twenty minutes, the chief will start to get suspicious that we haven’t arrived at the station. Can you direct me to my house? I’m hoping that I keep spare weapons there.” He scratched his head. “It’s really hard to keep second-guessing myself. This is kinda crazy.”
“Head for the courthouse,” she said. “Your house isn’t far from there.”
Tyler slid into the driver’s seat, took off his hat and slung it on the seat next to him. He then pulled onto the road, all the while rubbing a hand over his forehead. He looked tense and uneasy, and Joanna’s conscience was pricked.
“Listen, Tyler,” she said, leaning forward. “You don’t have to do this for me. You could lose your job. Or worse. You’re committing a felony by helping me to escape.”
“I’m well aware of the implications of what I’m doing,” Tyler said. “But I don’t think you’d be safe in police custody, especially as we don’t know who set you up. You’re fortunate that the rival gang chose today to launch an attack, because otherwise I don’t think you’d be sitting here now.”
Joanna shivered, remembering staring down the barrel of a gun. “I guess I was blessed today.” She closed her eyes and tried to give silent thanks to God, but the words refused to come, so she gave up.
“I think The Scorpions intended to kill you and then leave a false trail of evidence to implicate you in their criminal activities,” Tyler said. “A corrupt deputy would really undermine the undercover operation. But now that you’re still alive, the gang will be looking for you in police custody.”
The car wound through the streets of Godspeed, and she noticed the look on Tyler’s face change as he passed the familiar sights: the library, the veterans’ memorial, the grocery stores, the high school, all lit by the soft glow of Christmas lights. A heavy sense of history always lay thickly in the air in Godspeed. The town had hardly changed since she was a girl, and she guessed that Tyler was seeing it as if for the first time in years.
“This must be weird for you, huh?” she said.
He didn’t answer for a few moments. He continued to drive, heading for the courthouse, stopping briefly outside the church where she knew the funerals of his parents had taken place over thirty years ago. After Tyler’s grandmother died, he left Godspeed to join the military. When he returned, most of the town folks who knew him were shocked. They had assumed there was nothing left for him to come back to. “I feel like I’m in no-man’s-land,” he said. “I can’t move forward and I can’t go back.” He cruised toward the courthouse. “Everything looks the same, but I don’t fit in. I don’t belong in Godspeed anymore.”
“Yes, you do,” she said strongly. “You gotta trust me on this. Yardley County is a much better place since you became our sheriff.” She pointed to a side street, dark and quiet. “Turn here. Your house is at the end. The one with the motorcycle in the driveway.”
Tyler’s eyebrows shot up. “I ride a motorcycle?”
“On your days off, yeah,” she said. “I guess you’re a lot cooler than you thought.”
He rolled to a stop along the curb and checked the street both ways. Then he settled his gaze on her, and she fought to suppress a tug somewhere deep inside. Tyler’s crystal-clear eyes, neither gray nor blue but somewhere in between, had taken her breath away the very first time she’d seen them. And they had never lost their ability to draw her in. The sheriff was beyond handsome, with his sandy-brown hair, matching stubble and olive skin. She could scarcely believe it when he had shown an interest in her. She had so wanted him to be her Mr. Right, but it wasn’t meant to be, and she had never dropped her guard long enough for him to get close. She infuriated him with her sometimes reckless attitude. Yet Tyler had no true idea why she liked to feel adrenaline course through her veins. He knew of her cancer history, but she had never divulged its profound effect on her. She didn’t want his pity. She didn’t want anyone’s pity. She just wanted to feel normal.
“Come inside with me,” he said, searching through his keys to find the one that would fit the lock.
“Take the car around back,” she said. “You keep a key underneath a stone in the backyard. I know where it is.”
“You seem to know a lot about me, Joanna. An awful lot.”
“I guess that’s a good thing right now.”
“I guess so. Stay alert and let’s keep quiet. We’ll take some essentials and hit the road.”
“Where will we go?”
“I haven’t figured out that part yet,” he said, starting up the car again and navigating around his motorcycle in the driveway, heading to the back of the house. “I can only take this one step at a time.”
* * *
Tyler was disappointed at the décor in his home. The living room was filled with hand painted, vintage-style wooden furniture, the kind he’d grown up with in his grandmother’s house, and the chairs around the fireplace were high backed and upholstered in floral fabric. It was a home that oozed simple Southern charm, yet the style seemed so unlike anything he would choose.
Joanna must have noted the look of surprise on his face. “Laura from the furniture store picked out most of these pieces for you,” she said. “You told her you wanted a home just like the one you grew up in.”
“I did?” he said, looking around, noticing familiar items from his past dotted here and there. One item in particular caught his eye: a photograph of six smiling men, his buddies on the last mission he recalled—Dark Skies. That was where he belonged. He was a SEAL. This home was all wrong for him. There was even a Christmas tree in the corner of the room, decorated with silver stars. He never normally bothered with festive decorations. He gave thanks for the gift of God’s son each year, but the adornments of the season had never held sway over him.
“What do you want me to do?” Joanna asked, snapping him out of his daze. “We have to be quick.”
He headed for the stairs. “I’m going to change out of this uniform. Do you know if I have a gun cabinet?”
“Yes. You keep the key on a chain in the closet.”
“Good. Get the key, find a bag and take everything in that cabinet. Then pack some food. We might need it.”
He took the stairs two at a time and walked in through the first door he saw. It was the bathroom.
“How can I not remember my own house?” he muttered, taking the next doorway along, leading into a bedroom that he knew must be his. A large picture hung above the bed showing the insignia of the SEALs: an eagle holding a navy anchor, a trident and a flintlock-style pistol. Underneath the insignia were the words The Only Easy Day Was Yesterday, one of the many mottos of the SEALs. Yes, this was his private space.
He found some jeans and a sweatshirt in the closet and discarded his uniform, instantly feeling better for having freed himself of the sheriff’s clothes. They didn’t seem to fit right. He spied a safe in the corner of the room and stopped dead in his tracks. What code would he use? Bending to one knee, he punched in the ID number of his old SEAL unit and smiled as the door beeped open. Inside the safe was a handgun, a cell phone, his passport and an envelope full of cash. His smile grew even wider. It was just like him to be prepared for anything. He placed the items in a large black bag, along with some spare