No One But You
“When was it that you returned?”
“Three years ago.”
The fact that the community didn’t know him all that well couldn’t have helped when he was accused of killing his parents. It was always easier to think the worst of a stranger—or someone with a bad reputation.
His attention shifted to the food. “Roast? Wow. Smells delicious.”
She tried to hand him the plate, but he waved her off. “Go ahead and take it inside, okay? It’s getting too dark to keep working out here. I’d like to wash my hands and eat sitting down for a change.”
“Okay.” She was glad to hear he was quitting for the night. Although he hid the extreme exhaustion she’d noted before behind a smile as if he was fine, she could see the fatigue in his eyes.
“I’ve got to put away my tools. It might be a few minutes.”
“I’ll keep your dinner warm.”
She picked up his empty lunch plate on her way to the house, put his food back in the slow cooker and set a place for him at the table.
The slap of the back door alerted her when he arrived. She heard him go into the bathroom off the rear porch, recognized the slide of the pocket door as he closed it. When he came out, his hands were slightly damp as he gestured at the single place setting. “You’re not going to eat with me?”
“I ate while I was waiting for you to come in. I’m just going to mop the floor. Then I’ll go.”
“It’s after six-thirty. I’m sure you’d like to see your son. Go ahead and leave. You can mop tomorrow.”
Now that she could see him in full light and not the dim twilight, he looked even more fatigued than before. She wondered if he was going to be okay after she left. “I checked on Jayden not too long ago. He’s watching a movie with the babysitter’s kids. I’d really like to get the floor done so I can go home knowing I have one room finished, if it’s all the same to you.”
“It’s all the same to me.” He gazed around as he took his seat. “You’ve made good progress already.”
“Only in here. Cleaning out the cupboards and drawers takes time, especially because I had to wash a lot of the stuff that was going back in them. Maybe when you’re done eating, I can show you what I accomplished,” she said, dishing up his food once again.
“I’m sure it’s fine,” he said as she carried it over.
He didn’t have the energy to get up for something so trivial, she realized. He seemed grateful for the food, though.
Before she could fill the bucket she planned to use, her phone rang. She’d kept her ringer on in case Petra needed her. But when she checked her screen and saw it was Sly, she winced.
“Is that about your son?” Dawson asked.
She hesitated. Her new boss had been so intent on his dinner she hadn’t expected him to be paying any attention to her, whether her phone was ringing or not.
“Because, like I said, you can go,” he added.
“No. It’s not my son.”
“You don’t seem pleased to hear from whoever it is.”
“I’m not. It’s my ex.”
His chewing slowed. “Does he know I offered you the job—and that you accepted it?”
“Yes.”
“What’d he have to say about that?”
“He was sure to...make his displeasure clear.” And to send his cop buddies over to the diner to make the ramifications even clearer. She considered telling Dawson about that incident, thought maybe he should know that Sly had a lot of friends on the force, so he’d understand their bias if he ran into it. But she couldn’t be entirely sure he was as innocent as she wanted to believe, felt that it wouldn’t be wise to point out that she was losing support as far as the force went. Besides, she hesitated to wreck his day, especially when he’d been nice enough to hire her in spite of Sly’s threats. The police had had plenty of bias against him before she came to work here. Hopefully, he understood to stay clear of them all.
“Is that what this call is about?” he asked. “More displeasure?”
“No doubt.” She nibbled at her bottom lip while trying to puzzle out how best to handle Sly. She didn’t want her lack of response to cause another fight, and yet...she didn’t feel as if he had the right to continue harassing her about her new job. Besides, she didn’t care to talk to him, especially in front of Dawson.
After silencing the ringer, she went about mopping the floor.
She was relieved when Sly didn’t call back like he so often did, thought she’d been granted a reprieve—until she heard a knock at the front door about fifteen minutes later.
“Oh no,” she said, a spurt of adrenaline causing her stomach to cramp.
“That’s him, isn’t it?” Dawson had finished eating, was just having a glass of the inexpensive brand of wine she’d bought at the store.
“I don’t know for sure, but...maybe. I mean, who else could it be?”
“I have no clue. I’m not expecting anyone.”
“I’ll get it,” she said, but he put up a hand.
“No, let me.” With a sigh, he pushed back his chair, seemed to summon what energy he had left and got up.
Sadie waited in the kitchen, hoping she was wrong about the identity of the visitor while listening to see.
“Officer Harris. What a surprise.”
She heard the sarcasm in Dawson’s greeting, knew Sly wouldn’t be able to miss it, either. Dawson didn’t know what he was getting himself into. If he wasn’t careful, Sly and the rest of the force would make his life a living hell, and she didn’t want to be responsible for that.
“Everything okay around here?” Sly asked.
“Have you received a distress call or something that would indicate otherwise?” Dawson responded.
The risks inherent in provoking such an egomaniac made Sadie catch and hold her breath...
“Not a call, exactly. But I have to admit, my cop’s intuition is sending out a warning.”
“Well, there’s no trouble here. You can go on your way,” Dawson said.
“Not so fast,” Sly responded.
Sadie tiptoed to the entrance of the living room and peered around the corner to see her ex-husband holding the door so that Dawson couldn’t close it. “I guess you decided not to take my advice, huh?”
“Advice?” Dawson echoed, using the same facetious tone as before.
“You know what I’m talking about. Was there some confusion?”
“No, not really. Why?”
Sly’s expression hardened. “Maybe you don’t know this yet, but it’s not smart to get on my bad side.”
“Your ex needed a job, and I had one. Seemed like the perfect fit. I’m not sure why you’d have anything to do with it, to be honest.”
“I have everything to do with it,” he said. “Everything to do with her. And I’m telling you, she doesn’t belong here.”
“Actually, she does now. Technically, you’re the one who has no business coming onto the property.”
Sadie gripped the edge of the opening so hard she thought she might leave impressions in the wood. “Don’t let him explode. Don’t let him explode,” she chanted silently to herself. She didn’t want this to come to blows, especially because she wasn’t convinced Dawson could overpower Sly, not when he was so tired. Even if he could, she was afraid Sly would make up some lie about being attacked and call for backup, which would land Dawson in jail again.
“Funny,” Sly said. “A murderer with a sense of humor. I like that.”
“Great. Glad to hear it. Now, I’m tired and eager for bed. Not interested in any domestic bullshit. So...why don’t I go on about my business—and let you go on about yours?”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” Sly said. “Not until I see Sadie. I tried calling her, but she didn’t pick up. When that happens, I tend to worry.”
Dawson didn’t even glance her way. “Her hands were wet. She’s mopping the floor. I’m sure she’ll call you when she gets done.”
“I want to talk to her now. So I suggest you make it easy on both of us and get her.”
Before Dawson could refuse and thereby provoke Sly even more, Sadie walked into the room. “Sly, what are you doing here?” she asked.
His gaze shifted to her, but his expression didn’t grow any friendlier. “It’s after seven.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means it’s getting late, and I’m wondering why you’re not home with our son.”
She slid in front of Dawson to block Sly’s view of him. “I haven’t finished work. I’ll be leaving soon.”
“When?”
“Fifteen minutes.”
“Fine. I’ll wait out here and escort you home.”
She wanted to tell him to leave, that she didn’t need an escort, but she feared that would only tempt Dawson into trying to enforce her wishes, which wouldn’t be good for him, or her. “Fine,” she said and shut the door.
“Please, try to stay out of it, if you can,” she whispered to Dawson when she turned to find that he hadn’t moved since she slipped in front of him.
“Because...”
“It could be dangerous not to.”
He seemed much more alert than before. No doubt Sly’s attitude and the anger it evoked had given him a shot of adrenaline. “How dangerous? Has he ever hurt you?”
She thought of all the temper tantrums and other rages she’d witnessed over the years. Sly putting his fist through a wall. Sly throwing something and breaking it. Sly peeling out of the drive and nearly crashing his car or screaming and ranting at her until he had her backed into a corner with her arms up over her head, convinced this would be the time he would strike. “Not yet.”
“But...”
“He will definitely hurt you, in any way he can, and I don’t want to be responsible for that. Now you’ve had a glimpse of...of what he’s like, you might want to change your mind about having me work here.”
He set his jaw. “You mean cop to his demands.”
“I know it sounds unappealing. Believe me, I hate it as much as you do. But that’s the only way to appease him.”
“That’s what you do?”
“That’s all I can do.” Suddenly feeling her own fatigue, she shoved the loose strand of hair that kept falling into her face out of her eyes again. “Anyway, I’ll go now so that he’ll leave, too, and you can get some sleep. But if you decide you have enough problems, that you’d rather not have me back tomorrow, just let me know.” She should’ve known this would never work, that Sly would never allow it to work. “I’ll understand,” she assured him and went to get her purse.
5
The anger that welled up as his new “caregiver” left, followed closely by her ex-husband, made Dawson long to hit something. He hated to see Sadie give in to Officer Harris, to let him control and manipulate her. Just watching it happen, being a party to it, brought back the horrible feelings of helplessness he’d experienced over the past year—and with it a familiar rage. So much shit had happened to him, and he’d been powerless to stop it. When his parents were killed, he’d been swept into a vortex of pain, loss, confusion, accusation, distrust and resistance to the truth that had nearly destroyed everything in his life—not only his parents but all they’d left behind, including their life’s work, their home and their poor daughter.
He’d often lain awake at night on that cement jailhouse bed, feeling as if he’d fallen through the proverbial “rabbit hole.” That was how twisted his life had become, how distorted from what was fair, right and true. And the crazy thing was, no matter how hard he fought back, or how much he proclaimed his innocence, there was no escape. He remained at the mercy of strangers, completely subject to the rationale, judgments and will of people who had no idea who he really was or what’d happened that terrible night. They stripped him of his freedom and convicted him in the press, pointing to the anger and confusion he’d experienced as an unwanted child as the reason he’d risen up to destroy the only people who ever truly loved him.
If not for the slimmest of margins, he’d be sitting on death row right now. Only, he wasn’t. He was here. Home. Sure, he was starting over with very little. But at least he had the chance to reclaim his sister, save the farm and find the man who did murder his folks. He might even be able to bring that man to justice.
If he didn’t screw up.
In an effort to calm down, he walked to the table and poured himself another glass of wine. As he stood there drinking it, he couldn’t help feeling a measure of relief at the transformation that’d taken place around him. The kitchen had regained its former dignity, because of Sadie. Sure, that was a small step forward, but it made him feel as if something had finally been put right, which gave him a shred of normalcy to cling to. Then there was Sadie’s practicality in bringing groceries and supplies, her flexibility in being willing to front the money for them, so that the shopping wouldn’t turn out to be a big hassle on his part, and her diligence in seeing that he got fed. She’d worked hard today. He liked her, believed he’d found a good employee.
But what she said was true: he had enough problems. He’d hired her yesterday despite Officer Harris’s threats—maybe, at least partially, because of them. It felt good to fight back. But did he really want to get involved in a battle that had nothing to do with him when he had more than he could handle already?
No. He’d have to put off getting Angela out of Stanley DeWitt. He didn’t like that she’d be disappointed, but he could continue to advertise for a caregiver—in Santa Barbara this time—hoping to find someone who was willing to commute. Santa Barbara wasn’t that far. Surely, if he gave himself more time, he could find an alternative to hiring a woman connected to an abusive ex-husband who also happened to be an egotistical cop.
But if he chose that option, if he let Sadie go, what would happen to her?
He recalled the tears he’d seen streaming down her cheeks yesterday, the way she’d turned her face up to the sky as if she wished the rain would just wash her away. She seemed pretty desperate herself. Whether he knew her well or not, he hated the idea of abandoning her to be victimized, hated the thought that she had to be experiencing those same feelings of helplessness that’d cut him to the quick. If she wanted to get away from the guy she’d married, she should have that right. If she wanted to work for a man suspected of killing his parents, she should have that right, too. She was an adult. So why did Sly Harris get to dictate what she did—what either of them did?
You can’t hire me now. You have no idea what he’ll do. He’ll make your life so miserable you’ll wish you were still in jail.
He believed her, especially after Sly’s latest visit. Her ex would not back off simply because they’d gone ahead despite his disapproval. They’d have a real fight on their hands, a fight that Dawson was ill equipped to take on in his current situation. But ducking that would only make him feel like he’d felt while he was in jail—completely at the dictates of others. And he’d never been one to back down from a fight. Perhaps he’d screw up his only chance to get his life back, but at least he’d go down swinging for what he believed in.
“You can go to hell, Officer Harris,” he muttered and sent Sadie a text.
* * *
Sadie refused to speak to Sly. Her phone rang while she was driving, but she ignored his call, wouldn’t even get her phone out of her purse. If he wanted to follow her home, let him. She couldn’t stop him from using the same highway. But that didn’t mean she had to have a conversation while she was driving.
When she pulled up to Petra’s, he got out, too, and tried to intercept her. “We need to talk,” he told her. “You can’t keep working for that bastard.”
“I’m not breaking any laws,” she said.
Petra must’ve heard their voices, or she’d been watching for Sadie, because she came out.
“There you are,” she said before her gaze shifted to Sly.
If anyone understood the truth of what her relationship with Sly was like, it was Petra. Although Sadie had been careful not to say too much, Petra knew she wished she could be rid of him, and that he refused to leave her alone.
Using the distraction Jayden’s babysitter posed, Sadie circumvented Sly and continued to the door. “Sorry I’m later than originally planned.”
“You warned me it’d be seven or eight. Jayden’s fine, anyway. How’d it go?” Petra swung the door open to admit her but said nothing to Sly, and Sly said nothing to Petra. He hung back on the walkway, as if he was waiting for Sadie to get Jayden and come out again.
“I liked it,” Sadie admitted as she went in.
Petra hesitated as if she wasn’t sure whether to close the door, since Sly was outside. She settled for leaving it cracked open to suggest they’d only be a moment. “What’d you do?”
“Mommy!” Jayden came running as soon as he saw her.
She pulled him into her arms and hugged him tight as she answered. “I cleaned the kitchen while Dawson Reed worked on the farm.”
Petra lowered her voice. “So...why’s Sly with you? Nothing happened—nothing went wrong, did it?”
Sadie did her best to maintain a pleasant demeanor. “No. He was...worried when I stayed so late. That’s all.”
“I see. And now he’s...making sure you get home safely?”
“Apparently.”
Petra’s eyebrows knitted as if she understood that meant much more than Sadie was saying. “Divorce is so hard. Here’s hoping I never have to go through that.”
“You have no idea,” Sadie agreed.
Petra squeezed her arm for encouragement. “What time do you need me tomorrow?”
“Same time, if that’s okay. I have to be at Lolita’s by seven.”
“No problem. The kids have school, of course, so I get up early.”
“Thanks. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your flexibility.”
“We love Jayden. You know that.” She picked up a toy that’d been left on the floor. “So it’ll be another long day? You’ll be going out to the farm after the restaurant?”
Sadie let her son wiggle down. He was getting too big for her to carry for long, anyway. “Um...not sure, to be honest.”
She cocked her head. “Dawson doesn’t need you tomorrow?”
If he knew what was good for him, he’d find someone else to help him. But she couldn’t say where he stood on that decision. They’d left it sort of open-ended. “He told me he’ll let me know.”
“Okay. Text me when you find out. I’d like to take the kids on a nature walk, but if Jayden won’t be here, I’ll wait until he is so he doesn’t miss out.”
The gratitude Sadie felt for Petra brought a lump to her throat. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“Of course!”
Jayden brought the bag Sadie sent with him whenever he came, but before Sadie could go, Petra caught her wrist. “I know Sly’s out there waiting for you, but... I’ve been dying of curiosity. What’s Dawson like?”
She thought for a moment. “He’s...determined.” Yes, she felt safe saying that, especially when she thought of the way he’d stuck it out in those fields.
“Somehow that isn’t what I was expecting you to say,” Petra said with a laugh.
Of course not. Everyone wanted to know if he was the killer he’d been portrayed as being. They were hoping for some small tidbit that might reveal more than what they’d seen on TV. The way he stares at me is so creepy... He sits around sharpening a knife all afternoon... He laughs about what happened... Something juicy and gossip-worthy like that. The good citizens of Silver Springs would be surprised to know all he did was work and work hard. “I think he’s innocent.”
Petra’s lips formed a surprised O. Sadie was surprised herself, especially by how committed she was to that belief, so soon. She had nothing more to judge by than anyone else. Not really. She’d worked with Dawson only one day, hadn’t even seen him much. But there was something about him that spoke of the kind of integrity a murderer would not possess. Maybe it was his devotion to his sister. Maybe it was the courage it must’ve taken to come back to this place. He could’ve sold the ranch and moved to friendlier climes, disappeared into the melting pot that was LA or some other urban center where he wouldn’t have to face the same recrimination.
Or maybe she believed he was innocent because he’d had the guts, even after all he’d been through, to hire her in spite of Sly. He’d stood up to her ex at the door, too, probably would’ve done more if she hadn’t intervened.
She admired him, and not only for his looks.
That was something she’d never expected...
“What makes you think so?” Petra asked, still eager for details.
“He’s a strong man,” she replied.
Petra grinned and began to fan herself. “No kidding. I’ve seen him on TV. What a hottie!”
“He has a nice body, but I mean he’s strong in his head and his heart. He doesn’t need to kill old people to get what he wants, doesn’t seem like he’d ever attack someone weaker.”
“Are you sure?”
She realized she was sounding like Aiyana, who’d proclaimed his innocence all along. “No. That’s just my opinion.”
“Well, it sounds like he’s managed to impress you.”
Sadie nodded. “And he wasn’t even trying.”
“I admit I sort of hope he’s guilty—or I would if you weren’t working out there. I’d hate to think of anyone going through what he’s been through as an innocent man.” Petra gave her a quick hug. “Good luck with Sly. Would you like me to walk you to your car?”
“No. I’ll manage on my own and deal with him at home.”
“Okay. See you tomorrow.”
Sadie slung Jayden’s bag over her shoulder and led him outside to find that Sly had gotten back into his patrol car. Jayden saw the car, too, had to know it was his father, and yet he didn’t run over to greet him.
Sly rolled down the passenger window. “Want to come ride with me, bud?” he yelled.
Jayden looked up at her for some cue as to what he should do. Sadie could tell he was reluctant to leave her, since they’d been apart all day.
“It won’t be for long,” she whispered to him. “We only live a few houses down.”
“Okay.” He spoke so softly that Sly couldn’t have heard him, but he let go of her hand and walked over.
“Is it really necessary to offer to drive him home when I live half a block away?” she muttered so that only Sly could hear as she unbuckled Jayden’s safety seat.
“It’s going to be more than half a block,” he announced, full-voiced. “We’re going for ice cream!”
Fun. Ice cream should make up for the fact that you haven’t stepped up as a parent since the day he was born, she thought but said nothing.
Sly’s hand covered hers as he took the car seat. “Care to join us?”
Sadie resisted the urge to recoil.
“Come, Mommy!” Jayden cried, but Sadie didn’t have it in her. She couldn’t sit around making small talk with Sly when she was so upset with him. He’d just shown up at her work, might’ve cost her her job, and now he wanted to take her and Jayden out for ice cream as if he hadn’t done anything wrong. That was the kind of stuff he did all the time—crossed certain boundaries and then pretended he hadn’t.
“I’m sorry, honey.” She slid her hand out from under Sly’s. “Mommy’s too exhausted. I worked really hard today.”
Fortunately, Jayden didn’t complain. The prospect of a treat had won him over.
“I’ll wait for you at home,” she added.
“Don’t sit around and stew,” Sly said to her retreating back. “You have no reason to be mad! I was only trying to look out for you.”
She pivoted and nearly gave him a piece of her mind right there on Petra’s front lawn. The desire to let loose was so strong she almost couldn’t rein herself in. But she knew from experience that causing a scene would only make the problem worse, and she had Jayden—and Petra and Petra’s family—to think about. “I’ll see you when you get back,” she said in a firm voice, to let him know she wasn’t willing to discuss it, and waved to Jayden as they drove off.
It wasn’t until she got home and was taking her phone out of her purse to charge it that she finally saw Dawson’s text.
Be here at one tomorrow, if possible. And this time, could you bring a six-pack of beer? That wine you bought was terrible.
She couldn’t help laughing at the wine statement. She’d never tried that brand before. It had been in the right price range, but it had been terrible.