Chapter One

Tess Fenmore slouched behind the steering wheel of her car, staring out the windshield, the funeral home across the street taunting her with regret. All the pent-up anguish had nothing to do with the building but rather with the man inside. Johnny Sawyer. At one time, Tess had loved him so much and for years, memories of Johnny had driven her crazy. She hadn’t been able to get him out of her mind.

Even though he had made one hell of a mess out of her life.

Through months of heavy tears, she had tried moving on, but to this day the pain was still there. Deeply. It only proved she had never gotten over him.

Feeling the pain of her past as the sun beat down through the windshield, still staring at the gloomy funeral home, Tess wiped back a stray tear. The old memories didn’t seem old any more.

She wished she could banish them from her mind altogether, do away with every person in her life who had wronged her. Every time she found herself reminiscing, Tess felt the twinge in her gut from what she had walked in on that day long ago.

She placed her head on the steering wheel, closing her eyes, willing the images from her past to go away.

But they never did.

The hardest thing was, year after year, Johnny and Tess had continued living in the same town. It always struck her as funny to see how two people who were once close could live far apart with nothing more than a stolen glance shared between them. Yet the ache remained, seeing him move on with his life.

One more person who had thrown her away.

The hurt was as fresh as if it happened yesterday. However, it happened eleven years ago, and Tess couldn’t understand why the feeling of betrayal still lingered deep within her heart, persisting to haunt her.

It took all the emotional strength Tess had to put the car in gear and drive to the parking lot across the street. Feeling as though she were bordering on the edge of a cliff, her emotions threatening to come crashing around her, tears stinging her eyes, blurring her vision, she parked the car.

When Tess walked into the funeral home, feeling uncomfortable, alone, as though she had no right being there, people stared, their whispers unmistakable, probably wondering why after all these years she would show up at the wake.

Despite their intentness, Tess pushed forward. She had to do this, had to face the past, pay her final respects, more so for herself than for any other reason.

Suddenly, she stopped, her feet frozen to the dark-colored carpet beneath her. There he was. The time that had passed between them had been so long. To see him like this…

It was devastating.

No matter what was going on inside her head, Tess had to be strong, had to go to him, to Johnny Sawyer, who stood alone next to his wife’s coffin.

Tess approached the casket.

Other than a slight sideward glance, she tried keeping her gaze off Johnny as he stared, startled by her sudden presence. Kneeling down on the small wooden step, Tess said a prayer. Not a prayer filled with her forgiveness, just the simplest goodbye to someone who had once been an important part of her life.

Lindsey Moran…Tess’s one-time best friend, now Lindsey Sawyer, a woman who had deceived her in the worst possible way.

If it hadn’t been for the destructive thunderstorm, or the sharpness of the bend in the road, Tess wouldn’t have had a reason to be there.

She’d heard about the tragedy on the local radio station the morning after. A car had been traveling at high speed along a country road, when it veered off the shoulder. Why had Lindsey been driving so fast? Was her car the only one involved? The police would never know.

It was irrelevant now.

Lindsey Sawyer had been pronounced dead at the scene of the accident, the impact of the crash too much for her body to handle and the internal bleeding irreversible. The broadcast reported that the rescue team had been forced to call in the Jaws of Life to get her out of the mangled car.

The only thing that brought Tess out of shock that morning, after hearing Lindsey’s name come through the speakers of her radio, had been the sound of her coffee mug shattering on the kitchen floor.

Although it was true that Tess had never forgiven Lindsey for crossing the line, destroying their friendship forever, she wouldn’t wish such pain or eternal heartache on anyone.

Not even Johnny Sawyer.

Her mind was free of all thoughts of betrayal, rather filled with warm memories of Lindsey. From the times they had played together on the school playground, their prom, graduation… But no matter how hard she tried, the pain came back in full with the vision of seeing Lindsey in bed with Johnny.

Even in death, the thoughts, the images, couldn’t be banished.

After privately saying her peace, Tess started to turn, to head back down the aisle and out the door. Except she couldn’t. She faced Johnny with sadness in her eyes, a kind of sadness she couldn’t explain.

Tess walked to him, reached out and took his hand.

His body was shaking, shaking badly. He didn’t turn away. At that moment, Tess wanted nothing more than to take him in her arms, to hold him, to comfort Johnny in any way she could.

The feeling had nothing to do with her past love for him, but rather a need to ease his pain. Unfortunately, it wasn’t that simple. No matter what she said—or did—nothing would change the fact that he would have to bury his wife the next day.

“Thanks for coming, Tess. It means a lot.”

“I’m so sorry.”

She had always thought that particular phrase at a funeral was repetitious, but now she knew why people said it. What more could you possibly say to someone who’d had their whole world taken from them?

“She would’ve been happy to know that you came.” Johnny looked from Tess down to Lindsey’s peaceful face. “She’s missed you all these years.”

Suddenly, all that had happened back then seemed petty, and Tess began to feel guilty for not responding to Lindsey’s pleas for forgiveness after Tess had found them in bed together. Now it was too late.

“I missed her, too.”

Tess looked down at Johnny’s hands, which were still holding hers, feeling the tables turning. It was Tess who now felt as though she were betraying a friend by holding the hands of Lindsey’s husband while Lindsey rested in her coffin.

Tess pulled away… And Johnny lost control of his emotions.

She took him in her arms and held him close. She could feel Johnny’s heart beating against her chest, could feel his warm breath graze her cheek as the low sob escaped him.

They didn’t speak, nor did anyone approach them. Johnny’s fellow officers, half of the Dawson Valley Police Force, lined the back wall of the funeral home, but showed no signs of intruding. Or maybe it was that they didn’t dare get too close to Johnny’s pain for fear of not knowing what to say, what to do.

Johnny sobbed like Tess had never heard before. It was a heartwrenching sound, causing a feeling of helplessness to rush through her body. If only there was something—anything—she could do to take away the pain.

There wasn’t. Nobody could do anything for him. It was certain he would have the support of his friends and family. However, Johnny would have to endure this long road of anguish on his own because it was too soon for anything or anyone to lessen his pain.

“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling away, once again maintaining composure.

“You can’t keep this inside. If there’s anything you need, I’m here for you.” Tess didn’t know how it would come across, but she wasn’t able to help the words from coming out, didn’t fully understood herself exactly what she meant by them.

“No, Tess… I am sorry.”

It was time to go. Something about his repeated statement told her his words had nothing to do with Lindsey, and his wife’s wake wasn’t the time or the place to be letting such thoughts enter their minds.

Before she reached the comfort of the exit door, Johnny stopped her. He held her shoulders, only for a moment, holding her gaze through consoling eyes. After all the time apart, she still felt the tenderness in his touch, the way his fingers gently pressed into her skin, his heat radiating through the material of her silk blouse.

It was too much to bear. She stepped back, forcing Johnny to release his hold, enabling her to walk away from him and out into the open sunlight.

He followed.

“Tess.”

She stopped and turned to face him. No words left her lips, only tears of regret uncontrollably poured down her face. He remained silent, his hands safely tucked in the pockets of his dress pants.

Tess continued to her car at the far end of the parking lot. It was safer this way. Sitting in her car, she glanced in the rearview mirror as Johnny stood there watching her.

Now Tess wondered why she had come here. Why had she come to see Johnny Sawyer, his wife’s body lying in a coffin, his wife taken out of his life forever? Was it to see if she could do anything for him, to let him know she would be there if and when he needed her?

Tess tried to convince herself those were the reasons why she sat staring at the funeral home but knew they weren’t true. An unnerving chill ran through her body, giving her the answers to her questions.

Could I be that insensitive?

No…not intentionally.

Tess shook her head, then started the engine of her car, driving back down the tree-lined street, away from the man who had meant the world to her, the same man who had brought it crashing down.

She couldn’t deal with the reemerging feelings, and they couldn’t have come at a more disrespectful time. No. She didn’t think she could ever confess to Johnny Sawyer how much she still loved him.



*



Johnny sat on the leather sectional, a pint of whiskey in hand, getting drunk out of his mind at ten o’clock in the morning on what would have seemed to anyone else an ordinary day.

Though she was gone, traces of Lindsey were still evident in the house. The furniture, the wall coverings, the vases full of silk flower arrangements…

She was everywhere.

So were the lies.

Lifting the half-empty bottle to his lips, Johnny took a long swig. He could feel the slow burn as the whiskey traveled down his throat to rest in the empty pit of his stomach. Everything seemed out of proportion, and he couldn’t imagine waking up from this surreal nightmare any time soon.

Would he ever feel sane again?

During the last few months of Lindsey’s life she had been intolerable to be around, fighting with him every chance she had. However, now, the whiskey almost gone, Johnny would have given anything to be able to relive the last day of her life.

To have her back.

He got up off the couch to use the bathroom, then promptly returned. Not having shaved in three days, he looked as though he’d been run over by a truck. Stronger than the lingering guilt over their final conversation was the image of Lindsey trapped in her car.

Johnny couldn’t escape the haunting screams coming from the shadows of his mind…

When he’d heard the call go over the police scanner that night, the chance that it could’ve been his wife’s car turned upside down on the curvy dirt road had never crossed his mind.

When he had arrived at the scene, his sergeant stepped out of a marked car about fifty yards from the accident and stopped him with the news that his wife was turned over in the ditch. Johnny jumped from the truck, wanting nothing more than to get to Lindsey.

One of the paramedics grabbed his arm, telling him she was already dead, but Johnny didn’t believe it. As he scampered down the small hill, crawling to the car, a tow truck was turning the vehicle over from where it rested on its roof.

Johnny screamed for them not to move the car.

Out of respect, the crew stopped and ascended back up the hill to join the other onlookers, leaving Johnny with his grief. At the sight of the mangled sedan surrounding his wife, his grief forced the air from his lungs.

Johnny tried opening the door, but it wouldn’t budge. He frantically ran around the car, climbing in through the passenger’s side.

“Lindsey, baby, I’m here. You’re going to be all right. Talk to me—say something—Lindsey!”

Johnny struggled to block the words she’s dead out of his mind. Rubbing away the blood from her face, caressing her bruised cheek, he tried comforting her. But she didn’t move.

Nothing helped.

Instinctively, Johnny touched two fingers to her wrist, checking for a pulse. None. He pressed his fingers to her neck—still nothing. Not even the wet blood on his face from placing his ear to her chest was enough to convince him she was truly gone.

“I’m getting you out of here. Hang on, baby…I’m going for help.”

Johnny maneuvered his way out of the car, hurrying up the embankment, screaming in rage for someone—anyone—to save his wife. Everyone just stood, staring, eyes full of pity.

“What’re you looking at? Get my wife to a hospital!” Johnny grabbed one of the paramedics by the shirt, savagely shaking him. “She needs help!”

“Detective Sawyer, she’s gone. The impact of the crash was too much for her body to absorb,” one of the officers informed him. “Let them do their job, and we’ll get your wife out as soon as we can.”

Johnny stood on the side of the road, his fists clenched in the paramedic’s white shirt, trying to comprehend what was being said. He looked from his fists, to the officer, then up into the eyes of the man who had taken the brunt of Johnny’s fury.

He loosened his hold on the paramedic but not before looking deep into his eyes. “Be careful with her, okay?”

“I will, Detective.”

Johnny went back to his police cruiser and waited.

And watched…

He watched through tear-burning eyes as a second fire truck pulled up to the scene, eyeing the fireman as he descended the hill with the Jaws of Life. He cringed as they tore through the steel of Lindsey’s car. Johnny fell apart when they finally pulled her lifeless body out of the vehicle, laying her on a gurney, covering her with a crisp white sheet.

It took all the power and strength he had to reach down and pull the handle to open the door of the cruiser. Filled with disbelief, Johnny approached the sheet-covered body.

“We’ll give you some time alone, Detective.”

Johnny waited for everyone to disperse. Little by little, he pulled back the sheet so he could see Lindsey’s face. If it weren’t for the blood smeared along her cheek, he’d have thought she was doing nothing more than taking a peaceful nap. But she was gone, and he wanted to know one thing.

Why?

“Why were you on this road?” he asked through grief-stricken emotion, stroking her dampened hair. “We talked on the phone an hour ago. What were you thinking?”

Then the pain and reality became too much to handle. The phone call, the argument about Johnny never being there for her.

If only he had been there…

Now it was too late.

Johnny leaned down, placing a soft kiss on Lindsey’s lips, which were already cold to his touch, telling her he loved her. Then he pulled the sheet back over her face, motioning for the coroner to do his job.

He remembered people talking to him as he’d walked back to his police cruiser, but what they had said still wasn’t clear. The sound of his tires tearing through the dirt road had startled the crowd but hadn’t made him falter on his journey out and away from the area that had taken his wife from him for good.

The hardest thing he’d had to do that night was drive to the house on Elmwood Parkway and tell Lindsey’s parents that their only daughter was dead. Johnny never shed a tear. He knew if he had, he wouldn’t have been able to stop. The last thing he had wanted was to be consoled.

The rest was a blank.

Even now. Johnny barely remembered going to the funeral home and making the arrangements. It was all still blurry. He wondered how he’d gotten this far. It had happened so fast—the accident, the wake, the funeral.

The sound of the doorbell pierced his ears. If there was one thing he didn’t need, it was company. It would only be more sympathetic words. You’re going to make it through this; life works in mysterious ways; these things happen for a reason.

He had heard them all.

“Not again today,” he sighed.

Sitting in silence, trying to ignore the door, didn’t work. Instead of pushing the button, his visitor now used knuckles, rapping obnoxiously, continuously. Johnny picked up the whiskey bottle, pulling his arm back as if to throw it against the wall, then withdrew. His actions would only accomplish a floor full of shattered glass.

His life was shattered enough.

Taking his time getting up off the couch, Johnny wiped his eyes with the heels of his hands, stretched his back then looked at the door. The knocking continued along with the familiar hollering of his partner.

“I know you’re in there, man. Open up,” Mike Foster yelled from the front porch.

He would rather be left alone but knew Mike wasn’t going to give up. He opened the front door, immediately turning his back on Mike as he walked to the couch.

“Took you long enough to answer.” Mike came in and shut the door. “Did I wake you up?”

“Do I look like I’ve been sleeping?”

“You look like hell.” Mike sat in the leather recliner, gazing from the whiskey bottle to Johnny. “I know what you’re going through has to seem like you’re dying, too, but you’re not.” He gave Johnny a solid stare. “It’s awful what happened to Lindsey, and you should take all the time you need to grieve. But, Johnny, you can’t let yourself fall into that bottle.”

“You have no idea what I’m going through. Last time I knew, you didn’t have a wife.”

“I’m on your side. Just calm—”

“For God’s sake, at thirty years old, you’re still out trying to tag every piece of ass you can get your hands on! Don’t sit there and tell me that you know what I’m going through.”

Johnny got up, went to the dining room and opened the door of the liquor cabinet. He pulled out a fresh bottle of whiskey and brought two glasses to the table. Mike shook his head, declining the offer of a morning drink.

“I’m sorry, man. I want to help you.” Mike watched as Johnny took a mouthful of the brown liquid straight from the bottle before filling his glass.

“No one can help. I need to handle this on my own.”

“Is that what you told Tess?”

“What the hell does she have to do with this?” Johnny leaned back on the couch, bringing the whiskey to his lips while peering over the rim of the glass.

“I saw you two at the funeral home. Everyone did.”

“What’s your point?”

“What was she doing there?”

Johnny glared at Mike. “Is it so wrong that she came to pay her last respects to Lindsey?”

“Let’s be honest, Johnny. Did she come for Lindsey? Or for you?”

“I can’t believe you’re giving me hell about Tess. You know they used to be friends.”

“Yeah, before Tess found you in bed with her best friend,” Mike said.

“That was years ago. I’m glad Tess came. It would’ve meant a lot to Lindsey.”

“It makes me wonder…”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Let me ask you this.” Mike leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “How did it make you feel to see her? You got pretty emotional in her arms.”

“I’m not going to talk about this. My wife just died, and you’re dwelling on a girl I dated eleven years ago!”

“A girl you dated? Is that how you saw your relationship with Tess? I think she’d be offended by that.”

“Damn it, Mike, what the hell are you getting at?”

“Since you’re not going to tell me, I’ll ask.”

“By all means.” Johnny continued knocking back the glass of whiskey.

“What was Tess doing here this morning?” Mike finally got Johnny’s attention. “I came by earlier and saw her car sitting across the street. Granted she was in it, but I’m sure sooner or later she came to the door.”

“You’re the only person who’s been here banging on my door. I think you were seeing things.”

“I wasn’t seeing things, my friend. It was Tess, not wasting one moment to come back to you. Now, of all times.”

“If Tess was out there, and I stress if, she didn’t come to the door. Yesterday was the first time I’ve talked to her in years.”

Johnny knew what Mike was getting at but also knew Tess hadn’t had any ulterior motives when coming to the funeral home. She wasn’t the type of person to use a situation like this to her advantage.

Mike and Johnny had been best friends since their football days in high school. They had played all the same sports, got into all kinds of adolescent trouble together and even fought over a girl from time to time.

Tess Fenmore having been their biggest fight ever.

Mike and Johnny had argued plenty about Tess. Mike’s excuse had been that he didn’t like her, thought she was a stuck-up snob. Except Johnny knew his best friend all too well. Although Mike had never admitted it, Johnny knew he’d had a thing for Tess back then.

“All I’m saying is you’ve got enough to deal with right now, and the last thing you need is Tess Fenmore hanging around, messing you up all over again.” Mike stood.

“How are things at the station?” Johnny asked, changing a subject neither of them had ever agreed on. “Have they found out anything more about the accident?”

“We’ve determined by the tire marks that there wasn’t another vehicle involved. It was just that, Johnny, a tragic accident.”

“How can you be so sure?” he demanded. He wanted someone to blame, wanted to ease his guilt.

“You know how we determine between an accident and a homicide, Johnny. We played everything by the book.”

“I’ll never understand why Lindsey went out in that storm.” Johnny took another drink, then set the glass on the coffee table. “Why was she headed out that way of all places? You know how bad that road can be at night.”

“I know.”

Johnny’s gaze dropped, the guilt again washing over him.

“If this counseling session is over, I want to take a shower.”

“I don’t want you to worry about work. We’ve got things covered. Take all the time you need.” Mike started for the door. “Try to keep out of the bottle. That whiskey will only make things worse.”

“How much worse can they get?”

“Trust me,” Mike stressed. “A lot.”

With that said, he was gone.

“Worse my ass!” Johnny screamed, this time throwing the glass across the suffocating room, smashing the picture on the mantle in the process. “Oh, dear God…”

He went to the fireplace, then knelt to gather the picture, carefully swiping away the shards of glass from the faces staring back at him. The faces of a couple who had once been happy, one of them still here, the other gone, taking with her the secrets that had destroyed their marriage long before her death had.

Leaving the mess behind, Johnny started for the stairs but couldn’t manage to make his way up. To go up would mean he would have to enter their bedroom.

He couldn’t face what was waiting for him in there.

The smell of her perfume still lingered in the room, her silk robe covered the back of the chair in front of her vanity. Worst of all, the pregnancy test she had taken the last day he’d seen her alive was still on the counter in the bathroom.

If he hadn’t felt bad enough that his wife was dead, it killed him to find out she’d been pregnant, too. Maybe that’s why she’d wanted him to come home so badly that day, to tell him the good news that they had accepted over the years would never come.

He couldn’t figure it out.

Her mood had been foul toward him. Why hadn’t she come busting through the station doors with the little white strip of plastic in her hand? They had waited a long time for something like that.

Again, the sound of the doorbell echoed throughout the house. Johnny stood and went to the door, throwing it open.

“Damn it, Mike, I thought we were—”

But it wasn’t Mike.

“Hello, Johnny.”

“Jennings, what the hell are you doing here?”

Although they’d both grown up in Dawson Valley, Ted Jennings was more of an acquaintance than a friend, and the fact that he was the shrink for Internal Affairs made him the last person Johnny wanted to deal with.

“I thought I could lend you an ear.” Ted stepped through the door without Johnny’s invite. “Off the record.”

“What’s going on in my life doesn’t involve my job.” Johnny kicked the door fully open, waiting for Ted to take the hint. “We have nothing to talk about.”

“I didn’t come here for the sake of business.” Ted took a seat on the couch, lifted the whiskey bottle to his nose, then set it back down. “Don’t you think it’s a bit early?”

“I don’t remember asking for your opinion.” Johnny slammed the door shut and moved into the room. “If you don’t mind, I was in the middle of something.”

“I can see that.” Ted looked at the floor where Johnny had thrown the glass, to the picture that still rested there, shattered within its frame. “I lost my wife two years ago to a drunk driver. Never thought I’d get through it.”

Ted’s assertion was unexpected, making Johnny feel like a jerk for being rude.

“I’m sorry,” Johnny said flatly, kneeling down, picking up the larger pieces of glass, in no position to be consoling someone else. “How the hell did you do it?”

“What?”

“Drag yourself out of bed in the morning?” Johnny set the glass on the brick hearth of the fireplace, then sat on the floor facing the couch.

“I know you don’t want to hear this, but it takes time. The emptiness will never go away, but the pain…it subsides.”

“And the guilt?” Johnny stared at the bottle of whiskey.

“Does that ever go away?”

“What is it you feel guilty about?”

“Did the Chief send you here?” Johnny felt his body tense.

“I told you my visit has nothing to do with business.”

“Then why are you starting to sound like a shrink by answering my question with a question?”

“Look…” Ted stood. “I thought maybe it would help for you to talk, but I can see coming here was a mistake. Too soon… If you ever need to talk, you know where to find me.”

He got all the way to the door before something in Johnny reached out to stop him.

“Lindsey and I argued the night she died. She called me at the station, and I let her have it.” Ted slowly turned around, listening. “For the last year I had a hard time coping with Lindsey. Whether it was something she was going through, I don’t know, but her moods had become intolerable.”

Ted came back into the living room and again took his seat on the couch. “What’d you argue about?”

“She said she was sick of being home alone, accused me of never being there for her.” Johnny looked at Ted.

“Was there any truth to that?”

“I started working a lot of hours. She accused me of having an affair.”

“Were you?” Ted asked.

“Hell no!” Johnny waited for Ted to shoot another question his way, but he didn’t. “That was always her way of avoiding the real problems in our marriage. Damn it, I’d had it, told her that once and for all we were going to lay everything out on the table. That she was going to open up so we could get through our problems.”

“And did she?”

“We never had the chance. She hung up that night, and that’s the last time we talked.” Johnny stood and went to the fireplace, looking at each photo as he approached.

“Hanging up was a habit of hers, so it didn’t surprised me.” He quickly turned to face Ted. “If I had thought she’d jump in her car and go out in that storm…” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I wish I would have gone home.”

“You couldn’t have known.” Ted shook his head. “I see why you feel guilty, though. Like I said, I’ve been there.”

“I guess the question is, Doc, where do I go from here? How do I move on?”

“As hard as it sounds, you need to let go. The pain, the guilt, you need to let it all go because, bottom line, this tragedy was not your fault. Until you accept that, you’ll never be able to heal and move on.” Ted got up and walked to the door, turning back to leave Johnny with one last piece of advice. “Just be careful how you do it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Tess Fenmore.” Ted held up his hands to silence Johnny.

“Although we never ran in the same circles growing up, I remember you two were an item for quite some time. I don’t know why things didn’t work between you two, why you ended up marrying her best friend, but yesterday, the look in your eyes when you saw her… It’s clear that you still have unresolved issues with Tess. I hope you know what you’re doing, Johnny.”

Not waiting for a response, Ted left.

Johnny got up and went out to the enclosed backyard. This house had too many memories to deal with. Sad to say, Ted had been right. They all started with Tess. Johnny should’ve never bought this house and tried to make a life there with another woman.

That had been his first and biggest mistake.

It had been less than twenty-four hours since he had buried his wife, yet Johnny couldn’t take it any more. As soon as he collected his bearings long enough to pick up the phone and call the real-estate agent, he would. He was going to pack everything up and move. There was no way he could go on with his life in a house full of memories and hidden secrets of the past.

Looking out to the makeshift pond in the center of the yard, Johnny thought back to his conversation with Mike. Was Mike just being himself by making more out of Tess’s sudden reappearance in Johnny’s life? Or was there some truth to what he had said? If Tess had come to his house that morning, she certainly hadn’t come to the door.

What would he have done if she had? Slam it in her face like he had wanted to do to Mike and Ted Jennings? Or would he have given in to the unthinkable, taking her again into his arms and never letting her go, desperately holding onto the possibility that she could make all the pain go away?

Through the agonizing throbbing in his head, Johnny asked himself how any man could think about another woman when his wife had been laid to rest merely the day before?

What made the pain more excruciating was that the disturbing thoughts wouldn’t go away. They were still there, tearing, pulling at his soul.