Hope White - Christmas Haven

Morgan wanted to slide into the booth next to her and put his arm around her. He took another swig of coffee.

“You were running away from him on the ferry. That’s when you tripped and fell?” Morgan said.

“Yes.” She glanced at him. “And you were there.” A content smile played at the corner of her lips.

He ignored it. “Do you think he’s a part of this?”

“I don’t know.”

Neither did Morgan, but as a precaution he’d kept a close watch on his rearview mirror last night to make sure no one had followed them from the ferry. “Supposing someone is after you, what do they want?” Morgan asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Jules,” he said, in a warning tone.

“I really don’t, Morgan. I don’t even know who these people are. I can only guess it’s related to the boys.”

“Tell me a little about them.”

“I can’t. It’s a confidentiality thing.”

“Tough. You need to confide in me so I can save your life.”

There, he said it. He knew the endgame in these types of situations was often murder. One of her clients was missing, perhaps dead, and another had been kidnapped right in front of her. What did she think was going to happen if the mysterious “they” found her?

“I really need to catch that bus,” she said.

“For where?”

“Port Angeles.”

“What happens when you get to Port Angeles?”

“I’ll get a job, I guess.”

“What about your counseling job?”

“I left town without telling anyone, so I’m sure I’ll be out of a job by the time I get back. If I ever get back.”

“You can’t run from your problems, Jules. They always find you.”

She stirred cream into her coffee, circling the edges of the cup with her spoon. Morgan opened three packets of sugar and poured them into her mug.

She cracked a smile. “You remembered.”

“I remember a lot of things.” Like her hurtful words when she’d tried to break it off with him. He’d thought he’d talked her out of it. He hadn’t.

“What do you remember about the night you witnessed the abduction?” he asked.

“I really don’t want to—”

“Look, you’ll never outrun these guys and they won’t stop until they get what they want. We need to figure out what that is.”

“I think they want me dead.”

Sure, he’d thought the same thing, but hearing her say it made it more real. He leaned back in the booth, fighting the panic knotting his gut. “Why do you say that?”

“I filed the missing-persons report for Andy. I witnessed Dane being abducted.”

“But the police hit a dead end. They’ve closed that file. No, there’s something more going on here. What is it?”

“I don’t know, okay!” She closed her eyes.

Anna poked her head around the corner. “Need a refill on those coffees?”

“We’re good, thanks,” Morgan said.

“I’m sorry,” Julie whispered.

A part of him wished she were apologizing for abandoning him instead of the outburst.

“Look, if I’m going to keep you safe, you need to be completely honest,” he said.

She glanced at him with fear in her eyes. Why? What else was she hiding?

“Do you have any files with you now?” he asked.

“Yes, in my backpack.”

“Good, we’ll start there.”

“Start what?”

“Trying to piece this together.”

“I don’t want to involve you in this.”

“Why, because you care about me?” He wanted to snap the words back the minute they left his lips. He wasn’t cruel by nature, but he was frustrated that he might not be able to protect her because she was fighting him every step of the way.

Silence stretched between them. He clenched his jaw and stared out the diner window.

“Morgan?” she said.

He glanced at her.

“I am sorry,” she said.

He knew she wasn’t referring to the current threat. Tough. He couldn’t deal with that right now. “Let’s focus on the present situation. Forget the past. Ready to go?” He slid out of the booth and waited.

“Sure.”

He dropped a ten-dollar bill on the table and started for the door. As he opened it for her, she hesitated and looked at him with those enchanting golden eyes. “If you figure out how to forget the past let me know, because I never have.”

She strolled past him onto the sidewalk.

As he watched her step to the curb and glance across town, he realized he needed to solve this case fast so he could put her on a ferry and send her to Seattle before he lost touch with reality and started dreaming again.

Dreaming of a charmed life with his high-school sweetheart.

Julie had wondered if leaving him would cause Morgan’s bad-boy tendencies to surface. When Mom told her Morgan had joined the service, earned his college degree and returned to become police chief, Julie figured he’d moved on and conquered the darkness.

Sitting across from his desk, she realized something else had changed: Morgan had become a master at closing himself off. It was as if he flipped a switch from charismatic chief to hardened detective. He was hyper-focused on solving the case the Seattle P.D. had been unable to get traction on. Not because Morgan was worried about Julie, but, she guessed, because he wanted to solve it so he could keep his citizens safe, and get Julie out of his life.

He hated her that much.

“Andy Trotter was a dealer? Of what?” he asked, leafing through a file.

She felt guilty showing him the boys’ personal files but she knew he was right: the more information he had, the better chance he had of piecing together some answers.

He glanced up, waiting for a response. His eyes grew dark blue and intense. Cold.

“Crack cocaine, mostly. Some heroin,” she said.

“Which means he worked for some pretty bad people. But the kid was homeless? Didn’t dealing give him enough money to live?”

“The kids get addicted themselves and end up spending their money on their habit.”

He fingered a sheet of paper. “I realize dealing drugs can be deadly, but why abduct a kid?”

“I didn’t see Andy being abducted. He just disappeared.”

“Tell me about Dane’s abduction.” He leaned back in his chair and tapped a pencil on his desk.

He was in cop mode, questioning her like any other witness.

“I was going to one of the flophouses Dane frequented. When I turned the corner, I spotted two men shoving him into the back of a van. I called out—”

“You what?” He leaned forward.

“Instinct, okay?”

“Did they see you?”

“I’m not sure. Anyway, I dialed 9-1-1 and watched the van tear off. I’ll never forget the sound of Dane’s voice screaming to let him go.”

“Did it sound like he knew them? Did he call them by name?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Think, Jules. Close your eyes and replay the scene in your head.”

With a sigh, she did as he asked. It had been a cool, blustery day in Seattle, and when she’d turned the corner she was fastening the top button on her coat.

Dane cried out, snapping her attention to the alley. She froze at the sight of two men practically ripping off Dane’s jacket to subdue him as he kicked and screamed.

Damn it, let me go! I didn’t do it, Henson. I didn’t do it!

Julie snapped her eyes open. “Henson, he called one of the guys Henson.”

“Good. It’s a start.” He picked up the phone.

“Who are you calling?”

“Detective Beck. You remember Ethan? He’s a Seattle cop.”

“Oh, right.”

She wished she would have known that before. She always liked Ethan, one of the Three Musketeers, as they’d called themselves growing up. Ethan and his friend Jake would vacation in Port Whisper every summer, and Morgan always looked forward to seeing them. As teenagers Morgan and Julie saw less of the guys from the other side of the water. She was glad Morgan had kept in touch with Ethan.