Lissa shivered. “I haven’t been back since the...”
Mack frowned. “That’s over, Lissa. Don’t let that part of your life color how you feel about the house you grew up in.”
“Right,” she said, and she got out with purpose in her step.
Mack thought he was following for moral support, but even so, the hair stood up on the back of his neck when he walked into the house. Bad things had gone down in here. This house needed people and laughter in it again to heal the energy.
“Oh, my teacher friends did such a great job,” Lissa said, as she went into the kitchen.
The last time she’d been here, Mack had been bloody and unconscious. She traced the caulking on the new window glass with a finger, then moved out of the kitchen and down the hall to her bedroom with Mack right behind her.
“Here goes nothing,” she said, and walked in.
The chaos she’d seen the night of the attack might never have happened. The broken glass, the torn clothing, even the broken night-light that had been the last link to her childhood...all gone.
“Oh, wow,” she said softly, moving to the closet and turning on the light.
Her clothes were back on hangers, her shoes back on the rack.
She opened the drawers in the dresser at the far end of the closet and sighed at the sight of everything clean, folded and back in place.
“They put everything back together again.”
Mack walked up behind her and took her by the shoulders. “Good friends are worth their weight in gold, right, honey?”
“Yes, they are,” she said. “Now give me a few minutes to find something suitable and we’ll be out of here.”
Mack gave her a quick pat on the butt and then sat down on the side of the bed to watch. She flipped through the hangers for a couple of minutes before she zeroed in on one outfit, and promptly took it out of the closet and slipped it into a garment bag. Then she chose shoes to go with it.
“I’m ready,” she said just as Mack took everything out of her hands.
“You lead the way and lock the door behind us. I’ve got this.”
After dropping off the eulogy at the church, they were finally on their way to Summerton.
Lissa pulled the visor down to use the mirror on the back, looked at her reflection and groaned.
“Just look at me. Black eye, bruise over half my forehead and a busted lip. What on earth are people going to think?”
“That you won the fight?”
She grinned. “Really?”
Mack shook his head. “I am in so much trouble, aren’t I?”
“No. I like you. I won’t ever hurt you, I promise.”
He eyed the little blonde sitting beside him and burst into laughter. “Like I’m scared,” he drawled.
“Well, you’re not and we both know it, but I love you for not minding being seen with a girl with a smashed-up face.”
She flipped the visor back into place, smiled when he winked at her and settled in for the ride.
* * *
After Trey’s interrogation, Betsy Jakes had been feeling less scattered. Maybe it was turning her dream journal over to the police that made the difference, as if she’d given up the responsibility of trying to figure it out to someone else.
Trina’s breakup with Lee Daniels had also helped shift her focus. Trina’s heartache had turned on Betsy’s mother mode. She was still having nightmares, but now she was able to let go of them more easily on waking.
Still, she couldn’t get rid of the feeling that she’d lost a limb and was just pretending she still walked and talked like everyone else, knowing any minute they would see her for the fake she was. And when the reveal finally happened, which she knew was inevitable, she would never get back up again. She’d even come to terms with the fear of dying. After all, Connie had been dead for years. The rest of them had gotten a free pass from that wreck. Despite how this was playing out, maybe it was just God’s way of putting out that final call.
* * *
The killer was on a mission, reconnoitering. Everything he’d been working toward was almost finished. Only one more to get rid of and he would be home free, with no one the wiser.
According to today’s paper, Paul Jackson’s memorial service was going to be held tomorrow afternoon. Everyone in town would be there, including him. He couldn’t afford to be visibly absent, but he intended to take advantage of everyone being out of place when it was over. It would take a bit of luck, a little finesse and a good aim, but he’d always managed to land on his feet in life and expected nothing less now.
He was almost at the Jakeses’ place now. All he needed was to remind himself of the layout and see if his plan would hold water; if not, he would take care of things somewhere else.
He could see the mailbox in the distance, and of all things, there was Betsy herself getting the mail. If only he’d brought his weapon, everything would be over. But he hadn’t, and maybe there was a reason. As he neared the mailbox she turned and disappeared. That was when he realized how dense that stand of trees was on the north side of the drive. It might be a good place to hide out until he could get inside.
As he drew closer he saw a small blue metal sign fastened to her mailbox post. A security company! Hell, her house was probably wired to the hilt, which entailed a change of plans. He would not be taking her out inside her own home. Then he saw her about twenty yards down the drive and, on a whim, honked and waved. When she turned and waved back, he took it as a sign.
She thought she’d just said hello, but he knew it was goodbye.
* * *
The closer Mack got to Summerton, the more anxious he became. Lissa had been asleep for half an hour, but he was going to wake her up because they would drive right past his lumberyard and he wanted her to see his name on it. He was proud of what he’d accomplished. He wanted her to see his business and his neighborhood and the street where he lived. He wanted Lissa to love his home as much as he did. He wanted her to walk in and feel like she’d lived there forever. He hoped he wasn’t wanting too much.
As soon as he reached the city limits, he reached over and touched her arm. “Lissa, honey? We’re here. We’re in Summerton.”
Her eyelids fluttered, and then she raised her seat back to a sitting position, and began fluffing at her hair and looking around.
“I’m ashamed to say I haven’t been here once since I moved home, although I didn’t really have a need.”
“Well, you’re here now, and I wanted to show you something as we pass.”
She smiled. “Okay. What should I look for?”
He pointed up at a huge warehouse-style building spread out over the entire block, and then to the name over the wide porch at the front door.
“Jackson Lumber Company,” she said, and then gasped. “Oh! Jackson! Your company! Oh, my gosh! Oh, Mack! It’s huge. It’s amazing.”
“Yeah, do you want to see inside? If you don’t feel like it yet I totally understand. We’re a little short on time anyway, so—”
“Yes, I want to see inside. I feel fine. If you don’t mind introducing me looking like this,” she added, and pointed at her face.
“Baby, trust me, they already know I got hurt and why. They already know you nearly died. You’re going to come across as one tough survivor, okay?”
She nodded, already getting nervous as he pulled into the parking area and then drove around back.
“This is where I always park,” he said, and before he even got out, someone had already spotted his SUV and was pointing. “Well, no sneaking in for us. We’ve been made. Are you ready?”
“I feel like I’m about to meet your family for the first time,” she said.
He paused, touched by what she’d said. “In a way, I guess you are.”
He circled the truck to help her out. By the time she had both feet on the ground, at least a dozen men had surrounded them.
“Wow, boss, it’s good to see you up and around,” one man said, and then he grinned at Lissa. “So here’s the little lady who just took Summerton’s most eligible bachelor off the market. She’s sure a pretty thing.”
Lissa grinned. “Most eligible bachelor?”
Mack couldn’t have wiped the smile off his face if he’d tried. “Just filled in one of my blanks there,” he said. Then he introduced her. “Everyone, this is Melissa Sherman, the girl I should have married ten years ago and didn’t, but that’s about to change. Melissa, these are the best employees in town. The old guy is Mark. The one with the Mohawk is Charlie. The bald guy with the beard is Andy. He grows hair on his face because it won’t grow on his head.”
And so it went as he introduced one after the other, all the men laughing at how he singled them out. By the time he was through, Lissa had forgotten about her face and everything else but how absolutely perfect the rest of her life was going to be.
“It’s great to meet all of you, but I still have one heck of a concussion and just quit seeing double. So if I forget your names next time I see you, I hope you’ll understand.”
And with that admission, she sealed herself as all right with every man there. She’d seen them like Mack saw them—as equals, not the hired help, which was part of why Mack Jackson’s business thrived.