When Fall Fades (The Girl Next Door Series Book 1) (27 page)

Reining in the selfish urge to break down, she knelt at his feet, forcing him to meet her eyes. “What do you need?” She whispered, placing her hands on his knees.

Archer shook his head, his voice so slight she barely heard it as a single tear blinked down his cheek. “I don’t know.”

She felt the earth fall back into rotation. This was her place—her gift and her curse—helping people with their unfinished business. “Let me drive you to the hospital, so you can be with your family.”

Maybe this had been the reason she’d met him. Maybe this wasn’t meant to be about her feelings or her second chance at all.

She didn’t want to think it, but the idea twined around her heart and strangled her selfish hope. Man it hurt, pained her so deep she felt infested with a cancerous unrest. She didn’t have to be a doctor to save the afflicted. But it seemed she would be the only one left terminally chained to the past.

Chapter 26

Archer Hayes

T
he ride back to St. Louis was quiet, mainly because Archer was lost in the only good memory he had of his father—the untimely death clenching the event as a solitary incident.

Teetering between relief and regret, Archer’s heart seesawed in his chest. The peace he longed for—the very thing he’d seen on his father’s face—wouldn’t stick. At least not today. Yes, he was relieved Roy had turned his life around—relieved that the gaping wounds of his childhood might finally begin to scab over. He’d even start to feel grateful for the reconciliation, but then something bitter would worm in and tip the scales. He knew better, but his anger scrounged for a target and hurled at the most convenient scapegoat.

Why now? Why did you have to take him now?
Haven’t you taken enough from me?

It was exactly why Archer fought for justice. The world didn’t play fair. Sometimes even God didn’t play fair. Innocents were trampled far too often and retribution was thin on the ground.

Through the haze of red, he caught a glimpse of a sign for St. Louis County. They were almost home. The silence in the Jeep felt vacuous without his ruminating thoughts. He looked over at Sadie, grappling for something to say to cut the silence and her catatonic fixation with the road. But he had nothing.

After they’d left the motel for the hospital, she seemed to sense the need for family time and made herself scarce. Being there must have been awkward for her, but when she was gone, even for a few minutes, he caught himself thinking about her, missing her. How stupid was that?

His life’s work as a soldier and FBI agent made him a little too worldly wise. Not much surprised him anymore. Except Sadie—the only person he’d ever met who constantly kept him off-balance. Always one step ahead of him, knowing exactly what he needed from her at any given time. Laughter, affection, space, distraction.

Oh, man was she a distraction.

One that had him desiring a little less
space
than normal. The impossibly close quarters of their overnight retreat proved to be all the space he wanted. Closing his eyes, he could feel it all over again. The sizzle of her warm breath against his skin as she slept, the soft curves of her body curled into his, trusting him to hold her in his arms through the night. It was perfectly innocent, and yet, it was the most intimate touch he’d ever felt. And this morning …

He wanted to groan in frustration. He’d been mere seconds from taking it too far.

No. The second he’d touched her warmth beneath the covers he’d crossed the line.

Sadie. The simple truth that she was an amazing woman didn’t change the fact that he wasn’t the guy for her. The guy who could give her the life she deserved. The guy who could promise to be home for dinner every night. Who could dedicate his life to making her happy. A guy with the capacity to love her fully. To put her first. She deserved nothing less than all someone could give and that, sadly, would never be something he could offer.

They had just merged onto Highway 40, heading toward his apartment just outside the city in the upper-class white-collar business district of Clayton, when he received a call that his car was ready. He asked Sadie to drop him at the office, and the car returned to silence. When they pulled up to the FBI building, he felt as if he was standing in front of a firing squad. What followed would forever haunt him as a severely bungled moment of shame. 

It all happened so fast, but he was pretty sure the replay in his mind went like this: He offered his hand for her to shake, gave it a reassuring squeeze—one that had to have confused her more than anything—and then he garbled out a hollow thank you like she’d just bought him a cup of coffee instead of leading him on a life-changing journey. It was more agonizing than the bullet that had once pulverized his leg and splintered his femur.

If he were smart he would start distancing himself—had to happen at some point. Though, at the moment, as he walked away from her each step seemed to hack out another hunk of his limited supply of hope for the future. Leaving him feeling hollow. And he realized, for the first time in as long as he could remember, he didn’t like the feeling. Not one bit. 

Archer changed into the spare suit he kept in his office. He hated being at work in casual clothes—his suit was his shield, and he needed the sense of normalcy to focus.

As much as he tried to work, distractions crowded his mind. Funeral arrangements he promised to help his mom with midweek. Scheduling time off to go back to Kansas,
without Sadie
, for the funeral next weekend. Not to mention finding some way to exorcize her from his mind—or more critically, his heart.

Out of nowhere he had the strangest urge to pray. He smiled, knowing it was exactly what Sadie would suggest he do. In all honesty, it was the last thing he felt like doing.

Feeling oddly self-conscious about the notion, he brushed it off and continued going through case files and messages. Unproductive and scattered minutes turned into an hour of battling with his own stubbornness. He finally relented. “Fine, but you asked for it.”

He bowed his head and closed his eyes, the words strained and sour on his tongue. “God, what am I supposed to do here?
Maybe if you’re not too busy you cou—“

The door handle rattled, and Archer jerked his head up. Sal strolled into his office. “Hayes? What are you doing here? I thought I heard you went out of town for some family thing.”

“Yeah, I just got back. My car was ready, so I came here. My, uh, my dad died.”

“Aw man, I’m sorry … Wait, if your dad just died why do you look so …” He tapped his lips thoughtfully. “Hopeful?”

“I do?”
Huh?
What was I thinking about before Sal burst in—Oh.

“Maybe you should call it a day, Ace? Couldn’t have been an easy weekend.”

“I’m fine,” Archer ground out, “and we’re here to work.”

“All right, all right.” Though Sal often appeared aloof, he was actually incredibly perceptive. Helpful on a case, annoying in conversation.

“Anything new pop up on the Westwick case?”

“I just got the results back from the lab on John Westwick’s supply. It doesn’t mean that he’s not our guy, but the anesthetic used to kill Charles Westwick didn’t come from his son’s immediate stash. Records don’t indicate his practice carrying anything similar, ever.”

“Shoot. I had a feeling that would’ve been too easy. Where does that leave us?” The case had been the furthest thing from Archer’s mind. He needed to regroup. Reprioritize. Something he’d never had to do before.

“Well, while you were gone this morning I heard from Candice Stevens, the new ME. She said she wants us to come down to the morgue first thing Monday morning. I think she found something good, but she said she needed a few more days to confirm.”

“And Stink Eye?”

“Still in the hospital. Surgery went okay, but he hasn’t woken up from the anesthesia, which apparently isn’t a real good sign.” 

“Great.” Archer huffed. He couldn’t wait to put this case behind him. No more reminders of the ghosts of war. No more guilt about Charlie. And no more Sadie. “I just noticed this update on Reamus—the captain of Charlie’s battalion. It’s like the guy disappeared. We need to get to the bottom of this, soon.”

“I’ll do some more digging. See what I can come up with.”

Archer nodded and Sal started to leave, but he doubled back at the door. “Whatever is responsible for this change, don’t let it go. You look happier than I’ve ever seen you. That’s gotta mean something.” Then he left, having deposited that puzzling little tidbit to throw Archer off track all over again.

Letting his head fall into his hands, he dug his fingers into his scalp, let out a growl of frustration. He wasn’t sure if it was the praying or Sadie that had short-circuited his brain, but he knew that
neither
would be the most optimal answer.
He said I looked hopeful?

Do I feel hopeful?

Well, with Sadie that made sense. She was about as close to perfect as they came and seemed to bring out a side of him he hadn’t known existed. But he’d just started praying when Sal burst in, hadn’t he? Fine, so not a very powerful, heartfelt communication, but the pieces of his broken faith were still shifting beneath his feet.

Why was it so hard to get back on solid ground?

It’s not.

Archer shook away the voice in his head. He’d just gone down this painful road with that stupid box from his closet, and then again with his dad. He was overloaded, emotionally unsteady, and as a result, not thinking clearly.

Once this case was over everything would go back to normal. A thought he refused to acknowledge depressed the heck out of him.

Where had he put it this time?

Archer was losing it—the sharp edge of his highly trained mind dulling to the consistency of that spongy shag carpet. Rearranging and lifting the papers, he tried to remember if he’d set his phone down on the cluttered disaster of his desk. He’d already checked his pockets and his overnight bag. Then he called the stupid thing from his office phone. All of which led to a resounding nothing.

Last time he’d used it he was in Sadie’s Jeep. He swore under his breath and picked up his office line. His fingers hovered over the numbers he’d already committed to memory. “Just get it over with.” How was he supposed to go about forgetting this girl when he kept conveniently leaving things behind?

“Hello?”

“Hey Sadie, its Archer.” The idiot from a few hours ago.

“Hey, are you doing okay?” The tender concern in her voice made him feel like a colossal jerk.

“Yeah. I’m hangin’ in. I was wondering if I left my phone in your car?”
Smooth move, Arch. Skip the pleasantries and get right to business.

“Oh. Umm, let me run out and check.”

A silent minute ticked by. Archer knew he should say something but for some heinous reason, he was at a loss. The yips were upon him.

Maybe his feelings had gotten a bit tangled from their overnight getaway and the pressure was getting to him. Whatever it was, he needed to pull it together before he made a complete ass of himself.

“Yeah, it’s here. It slipped between the seat and the console.”

Perfect. Just freaking perfect.

It wasn’t a good time to see Sadie again, everything was too fresh. His defenses were at a critical low, but it would seem he had no choice.

“Archer, are you there?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. Would it be all right if I came by to get it?” His throat was as barren as the Iraqi desert, but he managed to get the words out.

“I won’t be here. I have this benefit dinner my mom organized tonight at the City Museum. And I’d drop it by before, but I’m already running behind.”

“The City Museum is pretty close to here. I could meet you there?”

Silence. She was stalling. “Uh … yeah, that’s fine. Just meet me outside the front entrance around seven fifteen.”

“Okay … good … thanks.” Every stupid word out of his mouth was as painful as a root canal—and they were only talking on the phone. In fifteen minutes they’d be face-to-face.

Time to focus. Game face. Archer snapped into the old familiar mold, deciding it was as good a time as any to remind himself who he was. He stood from his desk, straightened his tie, cracked his neck, letting the machine take over. It was a matter of discipline.

No more romantic thoughts about the girl next door. No more distractions. Period.

He pulled up to the City Museum—an eclectic playground of unique and recycled art—got out and started pacing around the front entrance walkway. A hum of voices chattered from inside the museum doors, the glass revealing men in suits and women in long, drab evening gowns rubbing elbows.

Sadie was late. As the minutes ticked by he grew more apprehensive about his decision. He should’ve had her leave his phone on her porch. Then he could have avoided this confrontation. Though, the brewing mass of gray shifting overhead meant rain and that wouldn’t have been good. Maybe her mailbox? A Ziploc bag? It didn’t matter now. He was here. He was in control.

He hadn’t decided what he would say. Maybe he shouldn’t say anything. Maybe he could just grab his phone and—

“Hey Archer, I’m over here.”

Archer turned and was paralyzed by the sight of Sadie gliding toward him in a flowing peach-colored evening gown. Her hair illuminated under the streetlights, slightly curled and silky, spilling like liquid sunshine over her bare shoulders. “I …” He stammered. “You look …” No amount of eloquent words could do her justice.