Truth is in the Darkness (Paynes Creek Thriller Book 2) Read online

  And they’ll all say the same thing, I thought to myself. They want me to do all the work, while they collect the majority of the royalties.

  “That’s kind of you to say, Rachelle, but you and I both know that they’re just trying to run a profitable business.” I tilted my head back and stared up at the sky. It was partly sunny, and the temperature had risen enough that I was ready to shed a layer. The gentle breeze felt good on my face. “Look, I’ve got a few things going on here. I’m going to take the weekend to think about it. We’ll talk about it early next week.”

  “Okay, hon, but don’t wait too long. There are plenty of authors just waiting to take your spot.”

  How reassuring.

  I hung up and tapped the phone to my forehead. “Who needs their stupid contract anyway?”

  “Lil,” a voice said behind me.

  I turned to find Coop standing in the middle of the sidewalk. My stomach did a flip-flop.

  “I thought you were headed out to talk to the taxidermist,” I said.

  “He wasn’t around. I’ll try again later.” He hesitated. “Did I hear right? Did you get dropped by your publisher?”

  “I would have thought your mama taught you better than to eavesdrop.”

  “I didn’t mean to. I was just waiting to speak to you and… anyway, I’m sorry to hear it.”

  “There’s no reason for you to pity me. I’ll be fine. That’s the nature of the business.”

  “I think I can be sorry without pitying you. We were friends once.”

  My lips twitched at the corners. “Yes. We once told each other every little detail of our lives.” I turned and continued toward Grammy’s car.

  “Lil, wait,” Coop said, following me. “I—”

  He stopped short at the sight of Grammy’s car, as did I. The tires had been slashed.

  Coop pulled his phone from his belt. “Hi, Penelope. It’s Cooper. I need you to send a uniform over to the coffee house. Barb Kaufman’s tires have been slashed.” He scanned the street. “Yes, I realize I could take care of it, but I’m helping the sheriff with something. Send a patrol officer over now. The car is directly out front.”

  I looked for movement inside store windows, suddenly feeling like I had a target on me.

  As Coop hung up, I turned to him. “Who is doing this? And in broad daylight?”

  “I don’t know, but we’re going to find out.” He reached out a hand. “Come on. Take a ride with me.”

  I stared at his hand. Part of me wanted to cross my arms, tap my foot, and refuse to go anywhere with him, but the other part of me—the part that would always care for this man—yearned to go with him. I wanted to know where his promising career as an FBI agent had gone awry. I wanted to know how he and I had drifted so far apart over the years. And I wanted to let him help me.

  “Please,” he said. “We need to talk. You need to get anything out of your car?”

  I looked back at the car. “Actually, I have a blanket and my drawing pad. I was going to sneak onto the old Kuster place to think, draw, sort some stuff out.”

  “Get your stuff. I can’t think of a better place for us to talk.”

  I opened the back door and grabbed my tote bag. When I faced Coop again, he had an amused expression.

  “You were going to trespass,” he said. “Just like old times.”

  I shrugged. “I just needed to think. And drawing and writing are my preferred methods of escaping.”

  “Oh, I remember.”

  Cooper was driving an SUV rather than a squad car. It was exactly the type of vehicle I imagined FBI agents drove. He headed straight for the Kuster place, stopped at the gate, got out and unlatched it, then drove through, not bothering to close the gate behind us. He pulled up to the run-down old barn that used to be for keeping a few horses and farm equipment, except that it wasn’t rundown anymore—it had received a complete makeover, perhaps even completely rebuilt.

  “Is this the same barn?” I asked.

  “Same location, but no—new barn, new layout.” Cooper grabbed my tote and got out of the SUV.

  I watched him a second, then followed. “Coop, I know I said I was planning to drive out here, but I wouldn’t really have trespassed. We can go.”

  Well, I would have trespassed, but I wouldn’t have driven my car onto the land and announced I was trespassing. I looked all around for anyone who might have seen us drive in, but saw no one. The large clapboard house on the hill—a long-time favorite of mine—had also been given a modern facelift. Once white, it was now a dark gray with black trim around the windows.

  “Don’t worry. No one will call the cops on us.” He continued around the side of the barn and headed toward the big white oak tree. As he stopped to spread out the blanket I had brought, I was suddenly overcome with dread. This was the place we’d spent that memorable night together before our lives had changed forever.

  “Cooper,” I said in a soft voice.

  He looked up, and immediately closed the distance between us. “When you said you were planning to come out here, isn’t this the spot you had in mind?”

  “Yes, but…” I backed away, then turned and started back toward his vehicle. “I was wrong. It was a mistake to come out here.”

  He quickly caught up with me and maneuvered in front of me. “No, you would have been fine if you’d come out here on your own. It’s being here with me that’s got you worked up.”

  He was right. Being here with him dredged up too many memories I wasn’t ready to face again.

  “It doesn’t matter what’s got me worked up,” I said. “We should go.”

  I tried to get around him, but he only blocked my path again.

  “Lil… I’ve spent the last eight months working through crap that had been building for more than a decade. Whether you like it or not, you’re a part of that.”

  “How could I possibly be a part of it?” Why now, and not when the “crap” had occurred?

  He angled his head. “You know why you’re a part of this.”

  I looked away, then back at him. “We promised each other Coop.”

  “I know.”

  “You broke that promise.”

  “I know that, too. But so did you.”

  Coop and I had promised each other twelve years ago that no matter what happened, or where we ended up, we would find the other when something in our life went terribly wrong. Our connection had been so strong, that I had made the promise with my full heart. But he was right. We both broke the promise.

  “It was a silly promise. Made by two kids,” I said weakly.

  “That’s bullshit, and you know it,” Coop said. “No matter where I am, you’re never far from my mind. You must know that.” I didn’t know it, but since I felt the same way about him, it wasn’t hard to believe it. He grabbed my hand. “I want to tell you what happened. I want to keep the promise I made to you. Even if I’m a little late.”

  I looked away from him. “Grammy, Bryn, and the rest of my family have been keeping things from me.”

  “Because I asked them to. Don’t blame them. Blame me. I’m the one who convinced Barb that you were better off not knowing.” He touched his fingers to my cheek and steered my face to look at him. His touch was gentle, but the skin at the tips of his fingers was slightly rough and calloused. “There are only four people in this town who know what happened to me. Barb, my parents, and Sheriff Daniels.”

  I studied his eyes. “Why Barb?”

  “Because Barb is my mother’s best friend.” He shrugged. “My mother needed someone to help her through the pain her only son was feeling, and I needed Barb to protect you from the gossip that I knew would spread.”

  I stepped away from him. “Do you hear yourself, Coop? Why do I even matter? You and I have barely spoken in twelve years. Twelve years, Coop! You don’t have to tell me because of a promise we made when we were children.”

  “You do matter. You’ve always mattered, Lil. Besides, it hasn’t been that long. I se
em to remember we saw each other over Christmas one year not that long ago.”

  I remembered that too. After that spectacular evening, I thought we were finally going to work through our issues. Everything had been perfect for twenty-four hours. But I didn’t hear from him after that. He went back to DC, and I flew back to New York. And that, as they say, was that.

  I scowled. “That was one night. And if I’m remembering correctly, you never called me after that.”

  “If I’m remembering correctly, you told me you were in a serious relationship.”

  I squeezed the bridge of my nose. “Did you bring me out here to argue? To rehash the past?”

  “No. I brought you out here so that I could tell you everything. You’re the one person in this world that I wanted when my entire world came crashing down around me. Hell, you’re the one person I’ve wanted every day of my life since we were kids.”

  How did I tell him that I felt the same way? Wasn’t it too little, too late? “Then why didn’t you call?”

  “Because I didn’t want to hurt you. You had worked so hard to build a life and a career for yourself in New York. I couldn’t mess that up for you. And wanting you here with me would have been selfish.”

  “Cooper, we’ve barely seen or talked to each other in years. How could you possibly have known what my life was like?”

  “Because I came to see you. Last fall, before the holidays.”

  “You what?”

  “I came to one of your book signings in Washington. I saw it on the schedule on your website. I kept hoping you would call me and tell me you would be in town, but you didn’t. But I went anyway.”

  I looked away and spoke softly. “My boyfriend was with me.”

  “Yes. You looked happy. And as much as I’d like to say I didn’t want to mess things up for you, I know now that I was simply protecting my own heart from the inevitable crushing pain of only being able to talk to you for a few seconds.” He looked away for a second, and back. “And I was in the middle of a case that was building in intensity. But mostly… I thought you seemed happy.” He lifted one shoulder.

  “So you just assumed that everything in my life was going great because of how I appeared at one of my signings?”

  Cooper stepped back. “What was I supposed to think?” He drew in a deep breath.

  “You’re supposed to talk to me. Ask me how things are going instead of assuming.”

  I knew I was being a hypocrite. I was already being stalked at that time. If I had been keeping the promise, I would have called Coop. Hadn’t I considered it? Knowing he would have dropped everything to help me?

  “Okay, let’s talk. What happened to the boyfriend? He acted like he planned to marry you when he posted pictures of the two of you all over social media.”

  “Seriously? You’re getting your facts from Facebook?”

  I managed to laugh at that. Then I gave my head a little shake. We were arguing over things that we couldn’t change. We were both bitter over so much, but the bottom line was that Cooper Adams and I had shared something that no one understood. And I was afraid that was why everyone had protected me from Cooper’s story.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I whispered finally. And for the first time since I’d seen him earlier this week, I did what I had been yearning to do. I lifted my hands and ran my palms down his arms, from his shoulders to his hands. Sliding my palms into his, I stared up at him. “I’m sorry for making you feel like you couldn’t reach out to me.” I touched a hand to his cheek. “I want to be here for you now if you’ll let me. We were friends once.”

  “Best friends.”

  “If you’ll let me, I’d like to be your friend again.” I let my hand slip into his again. Wrapping my fingers around his, I squeezed, then led him to the blanket he had spread under the tree.

  Just as I was about to sit down on the blanket, he grabbed me and pulled me to him, and before I could protest, he crushed his lips to mine. His arms wrapped around me, and I clutched the fabric of his shirt into my fists at his waist and held on. Our lips melded together, and as he deepened the kiss, my arms wrapped around him, and he brought my body even closer. I could feel his body reacting to me—to us—and a moan escaped from my throat before I could stop it. There was no denying that I had missed Cooper Adams very much.

  When he released the kiss, he leaned his forehead against mine. “I should tell you that I’m sorry for that, but I’ve waited so long to kiss you again. If you tell me that you’re still with some jerk in New York, I’ll step aside, and I won’t touch you again. But I needed to feel you before I confess what I’ve been keeping from you.”

  “What Bryn told you was true. A sting operation I headed went to shit.”

  Cooper was leaning up against the tree, his legs stretched out in front of him. Sensing how deeply the trauma affected him, I tried to ease his pain by scooting to his side. He slid an arm around me, and I leaned into his chest and shoulder. As much as I wanted to look into his eyes while he told me this story, I decided to let him off the hook for now.

  “I had been tracking a ring of sex traffickers, some of the lowest scum on earth, for more than five years. They were targeting young women from affluent families in DC, Virginia, West Virginia, Kentucky, maybe more. Such women fetch top dollar from the disgusting predators the traffickers call their clients.” When my body reflexively stiffened—a torrent of horrible memories rising to the surface—he held tighter.

  “If this is too hard—” he started.

  I laid a hand over his. “No. Go on.”

  He absently ran a hand up and down my arm, playing with my hair intermittently. “Every time we made a bust and thought we had broken up the ring, another group popped up on our radar and changed things up just enough to keep us from cracking the ring for good. But about a year ago, I believed I had identified ten men at the top of the organization. I tracked a couple of them to the Lexington area, which put them too damn close to Paynes Creek. That was when I told Sheriff Daniels.”

  I did everything in my power not to move. To let him tell me the whole story. But the moment he’d mentioned sex traffickers, I had a horrible feeling where this was headed. “You brought back memories of the sheriff’s biggest unsolved case.”

  Coop pressed his lips to the top of my head. “I couldn’t let what happened to you happen in Paynes Creek again. I didn’t want it happening anywhere, but I certainly wouldn’t let that evil make its way back here.”

  I forced myself to relax against him. “Go on.”

  “One afternoon, I received an anonymous tip that a shipment of three girls was being flown on a private jet from West Virginia to Russia the following night. I set everything up to intercept. The FBI and West Virginia State Police established a perimeter. And SWAT moved in on the plane in its hangar just as they were loading their cargo.

  “They had these three girls in freaking cages, Lil.” His voice took on an angry edge. “The poor girls probably spent the last week planning a homecoming dance, and now they were being loaded onto a plane like animals to be sold as sex slaves.”

  I squeezed his hand in an effort to comfort him, while simultaneously trying to compartmentalize my own emotions the way years of therapy had taught me.

  “We thought we had them surrounded, but I had miscalculated the number of men protecting the operation. The SWAT team ordered everyone to lay down their arms, then they moved in. I was on the perimeter watching an infrared computer screen so that I knew where all the warm bodies were. And I saw a man materialize from inside the plane, almost in slow motion. He opened fire with an automatic rifle on the SWAT team. The girls were caught in the crossfire. All three were hit. One died.”

  “God, Coop. I’m sorry,” I said, my voice strained. “But you know it wasn’t your fault.” I pushed myself up and placed a hand on his cheek. “You know that, right?”

  His eyes turned glassy with tears he fought to hold back. “I was supposed to know where everyone was. That was my job. I
had missed a target. It was my fault. I had to tell a mother and father that we found their daughter, but that we couldn’t save her.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” I repeated. I traced a finger down the line that formed between his eyes. “Just like what happened twelve years ago wasn’t your fault.”

  He leaned into my touch. “Then why did it feel like I’d lost everything all over again?”

  Fourteen

  Coop

  I delivered Lil to Barb’s house later that afternoon. After verifying that Barb was getting new tires, that she had received a copy of the police report, and that she hadn’t seen anything else out of the ordinary, I drove home. I tossed my car keys on the kitchen island, grabbed a beer from the fridge and went straight to my office on the first floor.

  Having Lil back in Paynes Creek was messing with my head. Telling her my story had shredded me, and not telling her the whole story—that I was still investigating human trafficking from right here in Paynes Creek—made me feel dishonest. But those were the rules. And it was for my safety and hers that I kept that secret.

  And not only from her. Neither the Paynes Creek chief of police nor Sheriff Daniels knew that I wasn’t actually seeking out a detective’s position in Paynes Creek—and that I was, in fact, still working for the FBI. I had taken a leave from the Bureau to recover from the trauma of causing those girls’ deaths, but the Bureau had quickly cleared me of all wrongdoing. And thanks to incredibly talented therapists, with whom I still checked in regularly, I was back on the job with a new mission almost immediately.

  That new mission called for me to stay in Paynes Creek for a while, and “recover.”

  I stood in front of the wall where I’d hung the evidence I’d collected over the years. Tipping the bottle back and taking a long pull, I studied the first piece of evidence I’d ever obtained in this twelve-year-old case: the sketch of the man who nearly took Lil one night our senior year in high school.

  The man who did take her out of my life. Indirectly.