Dylan's Redemption (8 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Ryan

BOOK: Dylan's Redemption
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He took off his hat, tossing it into the visitor’s chair. He ran both hands through his hair and swore under his breath. One hell of a morning. Jessie was back. Not only alive and well, but more beautiful than he imagined. And royally pissed. At him. At his mother because of that damn email. Even the thought of hurting Jessie with a letter like that made him sick. He’d never do anything to hurt her. That she believed it only showed how short he fell the one and only time he’d laid it all on the line to show her how special she was to him. Prom night. That night and Jessie haunted his memories.

He took a swallow of coffee and pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead between his eyes. A headache throbbed in time to his heart. The sun slowly descended into dusk, and still he hadn’t done what he’d come in on a Saturday to do.

He thought of all Jessie had been through in her young life, ending with Buddy slicing open her back. An injury like that could be fatal. Just the thought of what Brian described made him cringe. He’d seen his share of gruesome wounds in the military, on the Atlanta police force, and as a sheriff, but nothing prepared him to even think of something like that happening to the woman he loved.

Oh, he had no doubt he loved her. It had taken him not two seconds to figure that out the minute he saw her this morning, and the relief had nearly sent him to his knees. Jessie had knocked him on his ass, figuratively and literally. He smiled thinking of it now. Tough. Strong. God, he’d missed her. He didn’t know what he’d done to earn it, but he’d been given a second chance at a real life with Jessie, and he wasn’t about to blow it again. To think he might actually have a chance to get her back after spending the last years thinking she was dead. More than he could hope for, that’s exactly what he wanted and planned to make happen.

A knock at the door drew his attention. Lynn’s robust figure filled the space between the doorframe. Her white hair and smooth skin didn’t give away her age, except to say she was older than everyone in the sheriff’s office. He figured her age around sixty. A nice enough woman, great assistant, but she tended to be nosy as hell and talked a lot. She knew everything about everyone in town.

Right now, he wanted thirty uninterrupted minutes to mine his computer’s knowledge and find the information he needed to know about Jessie under whatever name she’d been using, because he’d never found anything in her name.

“What now?” He hadn’t meant to snap it out like that, but damnit he needed some peace and quiet.

“In a foul mood, I see. You often get this way after a long day, or something’s on your mind. Word is Jessie Thompson showed up out of the blue this morning. Most of the town is talking about it. Marilee told the cashier at the grocery store Jessie got Brian a job.”

When he didn’t remark, she continued. Who could stop her?

“I also heard you arrived at the house shortly after Marilee left. If memory serves, you and Jessie used to be close friends. You took her to the prom and disappeared just days later. Sure, everyone found out you’d joined the military, but Jessie had already disappeared herself by then.

“So, Sheriff. Did you see Jessie Thompson this morning? Is it true she’s back?”

Jessie wouldn’t like him, or everyone else in town for that matter, talking about her. They’d done enough of that over the years. Not one of those people, himself included, ever tried to help her. As far as he knew, no one knew what was happening at the Thompson house.

“She came by to visit Brian this morning and make arrangements for Buddy’s funeral tomorrow.”

The best course, keep it simple and not give out too much information. Lord knew, if Lynn had already gotten wind of Jessie’s miraculous return, then the whole town already knew about it. Hell, Lynn probably knew more about it than he did, and he was there this morning.

“I heard from Frank, who lives two doors down from Brian, he saw you two talking in the yard for quite some time, and she flew out of there driving one of those fancy cars. A Porsche,” she said and nodded with her lips pressed tight together.

He neither confirmed nor denied anything about his conversation with Jessie. “She does drive a Porsche. It’s nice. Black.” He wondered how she could afford such an expensive car.

Drunk most of the time, Buddy had scraped by on construction jobs, always riding the line between prosperous and poor. He might have done better if he didn’t drink away his profits.

Ten minutes, that’s all he needed alone to find out about her past and present. Then he could decide what to do next. How to approach her and get her to talk about what happened, why he left, and apologize for being a dick and what his mother did, sending her that email. Jessie had something to tell him too. Something big. The stress settled firmly between his tense shoulder blades. His mind told him he’d failed her somehow and it had nothing to do with Buddy Thompson.

“Sooo, give,” Lynn prompted. “What’s she been doing all this time? Where has she been?”

“She didn’t say.” He wasn’t going to say any more. Unfortunately, Lynn had other ideas.

“You know, some folks thought she left to find you. I think most people dismissed that notion when your mama told everyone you’d joined the military. Seems she told everyone just a couple weeks after Jessie up and left.”

Interesting. Jessie called his mother after she’d left town. Maybe his mother wanted everyone to know she wasn’t with him. Had to keep up appearances and propriety. That’s why she constantly told him to “stay away from that no-good girl. She’s nothing but trouble.”

“Other folks said she ran off with a boyfriend she’d met on one of those construction jobs she worked with her daddy. Course, no one said who that might be. She tagged along after you and her brother. Seems she stayed real close to you two as much as possible.”

He knew, now, why. She wanted to be safe with them. In the end, she hadn’t been. They’d both walked out on her. He couldn’t believe he’d been
that
guy. Stupid, idiot, teenager. Well, he’d never be
that
guy again. This time, he wanted forever.

“Most folks believed her daddy finally killed her.”

“Finally? What does that mean?” Lynn held his full attention now. “As far as I know, no one knew Jessie was being hurt. At least, that had been my perception.”

Lynn let out a incredulous laugh. “You were just a kid, engrossed in your own life and teenage dramas. Sports, school, girls. Those things held your attention.”

He had to agree. Self-absorbed described most teens, himself included.

“Weren’t no big secret old Buddy Thompson was meaner than a rabid dog to that girl. After her mama killed herself and Buddy took to drinking as his full-time job, he was known to leave a mark or two on her. A couple of her teachers noticed a few times and sent her to the office. Nothing was ever done. Buddy would come in and say how she’d fallen or gotten hurt at one of his construction jobs. Jessie backed him up, afraid to say anything against Buddy. Without any evidence, or a witness to the abuse, nothing was ever done.

“Who could blame her? On the days she went to the office, she’d come back the next day with more than a few bruises. Teachers became too afraid to say anything for fear the poor girl would pay for it. From the third or fourth grade on, teachers ignored her and the kids stayed clear of her. They figured if the teachers didn’t want anything to do with her, neither did they.

“I remember she was real smart. Brainy, most would call her. Quiet. Shy. I don’t think that girl ever had many friends, except you and Brian.”

On a roll, Lynn continued. “Now Brian, that boy got everything Jessie went without. You’d see him with new shoes and clothes. Jessie was always an afterthought with Buddy. Seems if he’d done better by her, others would have treated her better as well. Even your mama said more than a few unkind words about poor Jessie hanging around you. She didn’t like it one bit. Thought Jessie was no good. I bet your mama never thought you’d join the military and become an officer of the law.”

Surprised didn’t begin to cover it. He’d had more than a few arguments with her and his father about his chosen profession. The only concession he’d made to his parents’ dream for him was getting his degree in criminology. He’d worked damn hard to earn it, starting with correspondence and online classes during his military stint and finishing during his first year on the police force. He owed Jessie for that too. Her death made him think about what he really wanted for his life. He hadn’t saved Jessie, but he’d dedicated his life to saving others.

“Your mother blamed your life choices on Jessie too. She discovered you snuck Jessie into the prom and afterwards you didn’t even talk to her. Boy, that got her going, but good. A few days later, you graduated and disappeared.” Lynn waited to see if he’d tell her anything about his relationship with Jessie and if he’d left because of her.

He’d already signed up with the army by the time he took Jessie to the prom. What was he supposed to do? They were kids, she was only fifteen. He couldn’t run away with her. What would he have done with her? He had a contract with the military and lived in the barracks. He served a tour in Iraq and another in Afghanistan. At the time, he had nothing to offer her and no real way to take care of her. If he’d known about Buddy, he’d have found a way to make it work.

Hell, she’d scared him. He’d never experienced feelings that deep, ever, or since. For him, it had always been Jessie. During that time, it had always been him for her. Now, she didn’t want him to touch her. She refused to stay and talk to him.

It made him ache to think about the anger and sadness he’d seen in her eyes this morning.

If anyone deserved to be angry about her past, it was Jessie. He wanted to help her heal some of that hurt. Maybe then they could make a life together.

“Sheriff, are you listening?”

He pushed those thoughts aside and tuned back into Lynn. “What? Sorry.”

“Work slowed down. Get on home to Will before things pick up again.”

“I have work to do on the computer. I’ll head out shortly.”

She turned to leave his office, but he called her back. “Lynn, is there anyone I should know about who’s in the same situation Jessie was in when she was young? Anyone? A child or a woman who needs our help?”

Lynn kept her ear to the ground, knew who slept with whom, and who had skeletons hidden in the closet. Dylan hated to think he’d overlooked someone who needed help.

“You took care of Shannon for Owen, though that was a whole other twisted kind of thing.”

Didn’t he know it.

“You know about the Dobbs woman. Several calls came in about her husband knocking her around some nights. I heard there’s a boy in the third grade. He’s been having a real hard time of it. Seems he’s gotten into trouble for bullying the smaller children in his class. His mama does her best, but she doesn’t have any help. Her husband ran out on her a few months back. Ask me, the boy is neglected, and he’s acting out at school because of it. Perhaps if someone stepped in now and gave him and his mama some help, you could prevent that boy from growing up and being more than just a bully. I’m sure a stern talking-to about being kind to others from the sheriff just might turn him around. His name is Jimmy Boyd. I’ll get you their address.”

“If you hear anything you think I should know, my door’s always open.”

He held back a laugh as she beamed and avowed, “Looks like you’ll make a fine sheriff for the county, much better than Sheriff Leland ever was. A lazier man, I’ve never met.”

Which explained why Buddy got away with everything that happened to Jessie. If the law didn’t care, who did?

Alone, finally, he set to work on discovering some of the answers to his many questions about Jessie.

 

Chapter Eight

J
ESSIE PARKED BEHIND
her brother’s truck and cast a glance at the other twenty or so vehicles parked along the road next to the cemetery. Maybe more than one funeral was planned for today. Her gaze scanned across the expanse of lawn and headstones to where she’d picked out the plot. Everyone stood around her father’s grave site waiting for the funeral to begin. She wondered how all these people found out about the proceedings. Who knew Buddy had so many friends?

Unprepared to see all these people, she hesitated but bolstered her resolve and moved forward. Just like she always did. About thirty men and women watched and waited. It didn’t look as though any of them were particularly sad over Buddy’s death. Too busy studying Brian, several of them spotted her and literally gaped.

Some of the faces she remembered: Charlie and Buddy, his longtime fishing cronies; and Toby, his old partner in the construction business. Buddy had been more a hindrance to business than help, but Toby put up with Buddy for years.

Dylan stood beside her brother and sister-in-law. Seeing him, her feelings jumbled into a fiery ball in her gut. He wasn’t dressed in his uniform, or what he used as his uniform. He didn’t go in for the whole getup. At Brian’s, he’d worn black jeans instead of his uniform pants. He hadn’t gone with the sheriff’s hat either. Like today, he’d had on that dangerous-looking black Stetson.

Gone were the jeans in deference to the funeral. In their place, he wore black slacks and a white dress shirt opened at the collar. She loved the way he looked, especially his broad shoulders and strong arms. The dress shirt couldn’t hide either feature. He stood with his legs apart, hands in his front pockets as he spoke with Brian, his clothes and stance, both casual and elegant.

Dylan had always demanded and expected respect. He’d always gotten it, because he earned it. She doubted he had to work to make a living. He came from money, had a large trust fund and inheritance from his mother’s side of the family, and probably worked because he liked it. Just one of the things she admired about him, he didn’t use his wealth to separate himself from people who had less.

Everyone loved him. Easy to love, he had a great sense of humor and treated everyone like a friend. She’d fallen for him. From puppy love, to girlhood crush, to all-out love, she’d given herself to him through every stage of her young life. From the time she fell on the playground, skinning her knees, when a pack of boys chased her under the guise of playing tag but were really tormenting her. Dylan pulled her up and brushed her off, glared at the boys, and told them to leave her alone. To the night of the prom when she’d given him her body, her heart, and her soul.

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