His chest swelled with gratitude. He’d make sure she never regretted her decision to stay in Providence.
He pulled down the painting of him and Goliath and took it to his bedroom. Tomorrow, he’d hang it—where it would be the last thing he saw at night and the first thing he saw in the morning—but this new painting would sit at the heart of his home. The home he hoped to share with Jessie soon.
He hung the new painting, then stepped back and stared at it. Looking at the beautiful scene would never get old.
Finally, he sat on the couch and pulled his guitar from its case. It was late, but it was time to work on a new song for Jessie.
And he knew just the song.
Chapter 36
Patrick lugged the five-gallon jug of gas from the trunk of this week’s rental car into the old barn north of Providence. He’d driven past here enough times on his way to the Double Diamond to know the old farmer who owned this remote barn didn’t farm anymore. The overgrown weeds and grass in the surrounding fields attested to that.
The barn stood empty except for a few bales of straw, a couple of old wooden buckets, and some rusted farm equipment. Patrick kicked up dust as he crossed to the straw bales. He uncapped the gas can and started pouring.
This was an asinine move but his life was falling apart. Unraveling faster than his Aunt Hattie’s crocheting always did. Patrick had to take drastic measures.
Matthews had put him on an unpaid leave of absence weeks ago after a client complained about losing out on millions because Patrick didn’t buy the stocks he wanted fast enough. And of course, Patrick was racking up the debt with motel bills and rental cars.
He’d drained his savings several weeks ago to support that Jackson fellow in his campaign for sheriff. A horrible investment, but if it kept Winters from getting re-elected, it was worth it.
Yes, this was a rash, but he needed Jessica to come home, so she could help him pick up the pieces of the life she’d destroyed. He hadn’t been able to get close to her yet.
Jessica never left the ranch alone; her mom, the sheriff, or the rancher’s pretty wife always accompanied her. And any time he got close to the ranch, the dogs started barking. Patrick was pretty sure he saw a man with a gun on the front porch.
The timing of this distraction was crucial. He needed to get to Jessie before she left school with the rancher’s wife.
He grinned as the sweet, yet pungent, aroma of gas filled the musty barn. The last ten weeks, since he’d gotten out of the county jail, had been an exercise in patience. But the countless hours he’d spent watching Sylvia, Winters, and Jessica were all about to pay off.
Patrick would get back what belonged to him.
Winters couldn’t focus on his election and keeping Jessica safe if he was trying to find an arsonist. And when Patrick was long gone with Jessica before the flames were even out...
Well, then he will have won.
He dribbled a trail of gasoline to the door, then tossed the jug on the ground. Casting a last look around to make sure he was still alone, he pulled a lighter from his pocket. Flicking it, he watched the flame dance for several long seconds before dropping it on the ground and walking away.
He climbed into his rental car and drove down the dusty lane. This car was barely a step up from the raunchy, puke-colored one his lawyer rented for him months ago, but at least this one didn’t reek.
His breathing sped up as he approached the outskirts of town without passing a single other car. It wouldn’t have mattered if he had, because he drove a plain white sedan that looked like dozens of other cars here in this backwoods town.
He pulled into the high school parking lot and drove around the back of the building. He still couldn’t believe Jessica fancied herself a teacher.
The school bell split the air, and within seconds, the parking lot was chaos. No one paid attention to him as he parked outside the ceramics room. He checked his watch, waiting for his signal.
His heart raced, hammering against his ribcage at the thought of getting Jessica back. They’d leave this Podunk town for good and never look back. Once he had her away from here, he’d convince her to drop the assault charges, and from there, they’d work on getting him cleared of the other charges against him.
The trial for the bogus charges that hot-shot sheriff pressed against him was in three days. His lawyer planned to make it look like the sheriff attacked Patrick, and he’d only defended himself. Apparently, Internal Affairs had already cleared the sheriff of any charges, but Patrick’s lawyer still planned to maintain his innocence.
Regardless of the outcome of that trial, Patrick was facing some jail time. But after a full week in that cesspool of a county jail, he refused to go back, even for a few months.
His lawyer would have a heart attack if he knew Patrick was here. But he was determined to get Jessica to drop the assault charges against him before the aggravated assault trial. He needed Jessica by his side.
Not only was the trial for assault and battery against Jessica next week, her lawyer had informed him of a hearing to complete the divorce scheduled for next week as well. But Patrick wouldn’t let Jessica go. His entire world was crumbling around him, and he couldn’t fight the desperation that kept him imprisoned.
A siren split the air, and Patrick grinned.Perfect timing.
The crowd of students leaving the school had thinned, and Patrick climbed from the rental car, confident the few remaining students in the back parking lot weren’t paying him any attention. When a second siren joined the first, he tucked the gun he’d brought along—in case Jessica wasn’t cooperative—into the back of his waistband.
