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They both knew he was already aware of that and the pink turned a shade darker.
Noah briefly wondered what it would be like to have a grandparent who loved you enough to call at five thirty in the morning to check on you. His grandfather loved him, but the crusty old man wasn’t exactly what you’d call cuddly. He almost grinned at the thought, but cleared his throat instead.
“I’ll have Deputy Cooper dust the picture frame and the break-in area for prints tomorrow.”
Bates moved into position beside Abby. Noah had always wished to be a K-9 handler, but his position in the FBI hadn’t warranted it. He’d heard a lot about the Belgian Malinois breed. Alert, ready for action and easy to train.
“Why don’t you try to get some sleep? I’ll stay the rest of the night in the squad car and keep watch.”
She nodded, but then stopped. “I won’t be able to sleep. Why don’t I get dressed and make us some breakfast?”
Her offer was better than sitting in the patrol car. “Sounds good.”
* * *
Abby beat a hasty retreat upstairs. She had been more shaken than she had let on. Deep down, the terror still reigned. She couldn’t believe this mess had followed her all the way to Texas. She wanted her grandmother, but wouldn’t dare move Grammy here until the situation was resolved.
She pulled pants and a sweater from an antique wooden wardrobe, shed her pajamas and dressed. In the bathroom, she glanced in the mirror and groaned. “My hair looks like a rat’s nest.” Not that it mattered under the circumstances, but Sheriff Galloway was a sharp-looking man. She smiled, thinking about her grandmother’s antics. The older woman was forever nudging Abby back into the dating game.
She brushed her teeth and tamed her hair before hurrying back downstairs, only to realize Bates wasn’t dogging her heels. Stepping into the kitchen, she saw why. Noah had started the coffee and was rooting around in the refrigerator with Bates glued to his side. The dog was definitely food driven, just like the trainer had said.
“You’ve stolen my baby boy’s affection.”
Noah jumped and hit his head on the rack above him. Abby rushed forward. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Noah glared at Bates. “Some guard dog you are.”
Laughter bubbled up and it felt good. “He does love his food. The trainer told me to keep him on a strict diet, but I slip him a few goodies now and then.”
Rubbing his head, Noah straightened and froze when he looked at her.
Her hand reached for her hair. “What? Is my hair sticking out?”
The right side of his mouth kicked up and her heart pattered.
“No, it’s just... Never mind.”
An awkward silence filled the room and Abby practically ran to the refrigerator. “We can have eggs, toast and coffee if that’s okay.”
He nodded and took a seat on one of the bar stools.
“How do you like your eggs?”
“I’m not picky. Whatever is easy.”
Eventually an easy camaraderie filled the room while she cooked their simple meal. She remembered spending many mornings similar to this one with John. The memory filled her with mixed emotions.
Loading the food on the plates, she placed them on the kitchen island counter, took a seat across from him and bent her head to pray. “Lord, bless this food we’re about to eat. Keep us safe and help us solve the mystery surrounding me. Amen.”
“Amen.” Noah picked up his fork and began eating. “We’ll start by making a list of possible suspects.”
Abby chewed and swallowed. “But there are no suspects. That’s what I keep telling everyone. And I have students coming for piano lessons today.”
“We’ll work around that.”
A terrible thought crossed her mind. “Are my students safe coming here after what happened?”
His jaw turned to granite and those electric-blue eyes hardened. “We’ll keep you and your students safe, Ms. Mayfield.”
Warmth and a sense of well-being filled her. She believed him. “Thank you, and please call me Abby.”
They finished eating their meal in silence. Abby glanced at the photograph still sitting on the opposite end of the kitchen island. Her hand, holding a forkful of scrambled eggs, froze halfway to her mouth.
Noah straightened in his chair and his gaze sharpened. “What is it?”
She didn’t want the photo anywhere near her, but she had to be sure. Laying her fork aside, she stood and slowly walked around the island. Chills snaked up her spine as she leaned over and studied the picture of the happy couple holding a laughing child.
Almost a living thing, dread crept into the very core of her being. “The child in the picture? It isn’t me.”
THREE (#u9cbcf4e5-90fb-5b30-9d97-80317814011d)
The call of the investigative hunt pulsated through Noah’s veins. Every instinct screamed this was a major missing piece of the puzzle, but Abby’s obvious devastation shook him to the core. His first impulse was to comfort her. He wanted to promise he would make this situation go away, but that wasn’t going to happen. They needed answers.
Maybe trying to find solutions to her problems would calm her down. He pulled out a notepad and pen, making it routine. “You’re certain you’ve never seen the photo before?”
Sliding into a chair across from him, she stared at the picture a moment, then jerked her gaze back to his. “I’ve never seen that picture in my life.”
“And the child? You don’t recognize the child?”
She slowly shook her head. “No. I’m an only child and I don’t have any cousins.” Her eyes brightened. “You know what? The boy in that picture looks to be about a year old. I bet this was taken before I was born and my dad is holding a friend’s child. Maybe my parents went to the beach with another couple.”
Noah’s gut told him otherwise, but he needed more information, so he kept his opinions to himself. “Let’s begin by writing down the names of any new people in your life.”
“I can’t think of anyone who would want to hurt me.” Her voice rose in anger and frustration. “I love living in Blessing, and after so many months passing with no more incidents, I was convinced I’d left this mess behind in North Carolina. I was ready to bring Grammy to Blessing, but this dangerous situation has to be resolved first.”
Noah lifted a brow. Abby’s back straightened and her shoulders squared. The steel had overridden the putty, and the transformation was amazing. Determination lit her eyes. Abby would be a fantastic mother—deep down, he knew she would fiercely protect a child of her own. He pushed that crazy, unprofessional thought aside and returned to the important issue at hand.
“You said you moved to Blessing eight months ago. Besides the permanent residents in town, have any new people entered your life? Choir members, music students?”
She placed her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “I'm fairly new to town, so everyone is new to me, but all of my piano students are from Blessing. The only new people I can think of are two that recently joined the choir, but surely they didn’t have anything to do with the break-in.”
Noah raised a brow. “Their names?”
“Joanne Ferguson and Walter Fleming. They’re both nice people. She’s been here about four months and he joined a couple of weeks ago. He’s the best tenor I’ve ever worked with.”
Noah almost smiled. Abby was such an innocent. “So, because he has a great voice, he can’t be a bad person?”
Her lips puckered and he choked back a laugh. He hadn’t laughed much in a long time. Not since his wife died, and especially not after the threats against his son’s life in retaliation for Noah killing Anthony Vitale’s father, Big Jack. Both men had been involved in the attempt on the mayor’s life in New York, but they were only able to find evidence on the mafia father. Noah had his own reasons for living in Blessing.
“That’s not what I said.” She popped out the words, then took a deep breath. “I apologize. Please, go on, but we have to hurry. I have students coming.”
“Aren’t they in school?”
“Yes. Normally I give lessons later in the afternoon, but we have a recital coming up and the principal allowed them to miss a few classes so we can get in some extra practice. There’s an advantage to living in a small town.”
Abby’s enthusiasm was contagious and Noah’s spirits lifted. “I’ll hurry it along. We should delve into your background,” he said. “Your parents died when you were six years old?”
“Yes. They were on vacation in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, and both died in a car crash. The police deemed it an accident. Neither one had any siblings. My dad’s parents passed away when he was in his twenties, and Grammy is my only living relative.”
“Where were your parents born and raised?”
Exasperation filled her voice. “What does that have to do with the break-in?”
“Humor me.”
“Fine. They were born and grew up in Mocksville, North Carolina. It’s a small town located between Charlotte and Winston-Salem.”
“Their names?” Her lips puckered again and Noah hid a smile. They’d only known each other a few hours and already he could read some of her expressions. The pucker equaled irritation.
“Lee and Mary Beauchamp.”
He dutifully wrote down their names. First, he’d do surface searches on Joanne Ferguson and Walter Fleming. If he had any trouble, he’d connect with a few of his old FBI buddies. As far as her parents were concerned, if they grew up and stayed in North Carolina, it shouldn’t be hard to find information. “Okay, this is enough to get me started. I’ll have Cooper bring my laptop when he comes to dust for prints so I can get to work on this.”
When she didn’t respond, Noah glanced up. Her lips were pursed.
“So you meant what you said, you’re staying until the glass pane is repaired? You don’t have to do that. I’ll be perfectly fine here with Bates, and as I said, I am proficient with a gun in a worst-case scenario. Surely whoever broke in won’t return in broad daylight.”
“Ms. Mayfield, I won’t leave until I’m convinced you’re safe.” His tone left no room for argument.
She gave him a mischievous grin. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. Listening to beginner music students is not for the faint of heart.”
If she was trying to get rid of him, it wasn’t working. “I’ll take my chances.”
A car horn blared outside and Noah jumped to his feet, one hand automatically reaching for the gun in his side holster.
“Settle down, cowboy, that’s probably Trevor, here for his piano lesson.” He glared at her, but her eyes twinkled as she moved toward the foyer.
He bolted in front of her and reached the door first. Her brows rose in question and he cleared his throat, feeling like a rookie. He didn’t like the sentiment. “I’ll go first and make sure the front yard is clear.”
She chuckled and he opened the door and they stepped out. A white SUV sat idling at the curb. Noah recognized Mrs. Johnson’s vehicle. Her son, Trevor—with whom Noah was well acquainted—threw open the passenger door and shuffled up the sidewalk with hunched shoulders. His eyes rounded when he spotted Noah standing beside Abby.
Stopping on the bottom step, his head whipped back and forth between the adults.
“You in trouble with the law, Ms. Mayfield?” he asked, his voice filled with something akin to admiration.
Amused, Noah waited to see how Abby would respond. She patted her hair down and released a nervous laugh. “Trevor, you know better than that. Sheriff Galloway just stopped by to check on me.”
Trevor moved up the steps, patted her arm and gave Noah a sly grin. “It’s okay, Ms. Mayfield, I won’t tell anybody the sheriff was at your house first thing in the morning. That is, if you can find it in your heart to let me skip piano lessons today.”
Abby’s mouth fell open, then snapped shut. “Trevor Johnson, I can’t believe you just tried to blackmail me. Sheriff Galloway has a very good reason for being here, and it’s none of your business.” She pointed a finger at the front door. “Now, march right into the living room and prepare for your lesson.”
Trevor’s shoulders slumped as he slowly trudged into the house.
Abby’s cheeks were pink with frustration and Noah’s mouth stretched into a wide grin. “The kid’s a terror. A few weeks ago I had him doing community service—picking up trash—for a minor infraction.”
She waved a hand through the air and talked fast. “I don’t want to know what that boy’s been up to. I better get inside before he destroys my house.”
Noah laughed out loud and it felt amazing. He gave her a small salute. “I’m sure you can handle it.”
The woman disappeared into the house, and Noah scanned the front yard while pulling his smartphone out of his pocket. He typed a text instructing Cooper to bring his laptop to Ms. Mayfield’s house and added a note to swing by his house and pick him up a change of clothes, but then he changed his mind and cleared the text. Instead, he told Cooper to come to Ms. Mayfield’s and plan to stay for an hour or so. He’d go home, take a shower, make sure things were well on the home front and pick up his laptop. Cooper texted back and said he was on his way.
Noah slid his phone back into his pocket and checked the surrounding area again. He wouldn’t have insisted on staying close to Ms. Mayfield if the break-in had been a normal grab and run. His intuition—one that had served him well during his tenure at the FBI—was screaming that trouble had followed her from North Carolina and the situation was more complicated than either of them imagined.
Hearing mangled piano notes filter out the front door, he opted to stay outside and sat down on the porch swing to await the arrival of his deputy. He pulled his phone out again. He’d check in with his grandfather, Houston, and make sure he was available to take care of Dylan in case Noah found himself tied up longer than expected.
For the first time in a long while, he was excited about work. Moving to Blessing had been the right thing to do, but truth be told, he missed being in the FBI. The big cases. The camaraderie between agents. He missed it all, but Dylan was safe in Blessing, and his son was the most important thing in his life.
* * *
Abby waved at Mrs. Johnson as she picked up Trevor after his piano lesson. Going back inside the house, she closed the door and released a deep sigh. Her dog sat on the floor, his eyes tracking every move she made. “Mercy, Bates. That was a long hour. That child is a terror. As much as I’d love to have a houseful of children, I think I might pass if I thought I’d get one like Trevor.”
Bates canted his head to the side and Abby chuckled. “I know. We take what God grants us, and we’re to be happy about it, but I’m still going to say a prayer for Mrs. Johnson. She’s been blessed with such a...unique child.”
Abby glanced around the foyer. She rubbed both arms as the previous night flashed through her mind. She still couldn’t believe whoever was after her in North Carolina had followed her to Texas. She hadn’t tried to hide or cover her tracks. She and Grammy had hoped it was someone local to North Carolina and the move would get rid of the problem. The worst part of the situation was that Abby couldn’t think of a soul who would do something like this to her.
The police in North Carolina had interviewed everyone she knew and come up empty. The entire thing was scary and frustrating. She headed into the kitchen and gave Deputy Cooper a curt nod. He had a pained expression on his face as he took a sip of coffee, no doubt from Trevor’s less-than-sterling piano skills, but she didn’t feel sorry for him. He had opted to sit out the piano lesson in the relative safety of the kitchen after Noah fled the scene and left his deputy to babysit. The repairman had come, fixed the glass pane and left. She didn’t understand why Cooper was still there. As she had learned in North Carolina, the police didn’t offer personal bodyguard protection for a mere break-in.
Cooper stuck his nose back into the newspaper in his hands, and she picked up the landline to call her grandmother. She needed to hear a familiar voice.
“Hello.”
“Grammy? It’s Abby.”
“Girl, I’ve been worried sick. It’s about time you called.”
Abby closed her eyes as her grandmother’s loving voice washed over her. “Sheriff Galloway left his deputy here with me and I had a piano lesson, but everything’s fine.” The handset was wireless and she stepped into the foyer, lowering her voice. “Grammy, you’re not going to believe this. Sheriff Galloway is the FBI agent who saved the life of New York’s mayor.”
Silence.
“Grammy?”
“I remember reading about him in the newspaper. It was a big deal back then. He cut the head off the mafia beast in New York. They still bring it up in the news periodically. Everyone claims he’s an ace investigator, that he never gives up or backs down until he has his man. Wonder how he ended up becoming the sheriff in Blessing?”
Uneasiness scaled down Abby’s spine. Grammy made an effort to sound normal, but Abby sensed that something was amiss.
“Grammy, is something wrong? Is everything okay?”
A nervous chuckle filled her ear.
