“He’s so pissed at me. He couldn’t get his deliveries, and…anyway, the cops thought it was me. Then last Friday, I was at Giselle’s looking for something she needed at the shop. I opened a cabinet and recognized those ugly pans you used to hang on your wall. It clicked, you know.”
That didn’t make any sense. “Why would she have kept them?”
“Crazies keep trophies.” He shifted to lean against a pole, taking the weight off his injured leg. “As soon as I left her house, the cops grabbed me again. I told ’em what I’d found, but they held me overnight while they looked into it. As soon as they let me go, I went to confront her. That’s when I saw you by the van, and all I could think of was getting you away from her. After that, everything happened so fast.”
“But why were the cops there? And why didn’t they intervene?”
“They were following me. They had evidence on Giselle, but they weren’t sure whether I was in on it. I swear I wasn’t, Jo. I’d never hurt you.” He ducked his head. “Not that way.”
“I know. You just scared me for a minute. I didn’t understand why you were there, trying to make me leave.” Jo stepped toward him and laid a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, too, Chase. That you’re having to deal with all this, the cops, Giselle, everything. You saved my life. Mine and Avery’s, and I’ll always be grateful to you for that. I’m really glad you’re okay.”
“I will be.” He bobbed his head. “I thought he was an asshole when he showed up at your apartment that night.”
That made her laugh. “Hewasan asshole that night.”
“But I saw the fear in his eyes when Giselle had ahold of you. Same as me, he was scared for you, not himself.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I hope he makes you happy.”
“Happiness is an inside job. Only you can make it happen.”
I’m trying, Grandma.
All week, she’d tried to ignore the ache that had taken up residence behind her ribs and the way it fisted around her heart and squeezed until she couldn’t breathe.
“Thank you. I should get back to work.”
“Don’t let them work you too hard.” His smile actually reached his eyes this time. “And tell that asshole Preston I said thanks for taking care of my girl.”
Jo watched Chase hobble off as she tried to compose herself.
Brooke sidled up beside her. “What did he want?”
“Nothing.” She didn’t want to talk about it.
“Well, you don’t have time for his bullshit. You’ve got a guest who demands to talk to the person in charge of the catering.”
“Great.” Jo inhaled through her nose and exhaled slowly through her mouth. “Point me in the right direction.”
“He’s straight through there.” Brooke pointed toward the head table.
“Fuck, is it Walt? I swear he’s complained as much as Georgia.” Jo strode forward, through the jam-packed tent. Georgia must have invited the whole county. A local band played country music that competed with the loud buzz of conversation.
A sea of lavender parted. The head table was straight ahead. And so was he.
Avery.
Jo latched onto Brooke’s hand and veered right to duck behind a pack of burly cowboys. “What’s he doing here?”
“Go hear him out,” Brooke whispered.
“What do you mean, ‘Go hear him out?’ Did you know he’d be here? What’s going on?” Panic fired through Jo, evaporating the oxygen in her lungs. Her pulse raced, growing louder in her ears, drowning out the crowd and the music. Sweat dampened her palms.
“He’s here for you.”
“He’s supposed to be in Greece.”
“But he’s not.”
No, he wasn’t on the beach with some beach babe in his lap like she’d imagined. He was sitting in this crappy tent with her crappy family, listening to them argue and complain because that was all they ever did. She smiled. “Thereisa fence.”
