And while Sam admired Heather for understanding her civic duty and testifying in the Covington trial, small talk had never been his strong suit.
Especially with the Finley family. He’d never forgotten the way they’d alienated one of their own.
“Zach’s inside,” he said, halting his pace. “Conference room.”
“Great.” She gave him a lopsided smile, her long red curls covering the shoulders of her bright green trench coat. “I owe him lunch after he drove me to Nashville last weekend. But I wanted to check in with you first.” She hit the key fob to lock her car doors. “Are you still living on Partridge Hill Road near the town line?”
“I rent a place up there, yeah.” Having some space between him and the rest of Heartache made the longer drive to work well worth it.
“My sister is moving into our old hunting cabin off one of the dirt roads at the top of the hill—”
“I thought Erin and Remy liked being close to your family?”
“Not Erin.” Her pause seemed to stretch out for minutes. Hours. “Amy.”
“Amy?” Sam hadn’t allowed himself to think about Amy Finley in years. Well, except when she sneaked into an occasional dream.
She’d been his high school girlfriend. A relationship they’d kept quiet at her insistence because of her mother’s instability. A relationship he’d been forced to walk away from to help Zach’s sister. They’d left town in a hurry, scared that Gabby’s stalker would try to attack her again. They’d agreed Gabriella would be safest if no one knew where they were going. He hadn’t even said goodbye to Amy. Weeks later he’d sent a message to tell her he’d had to leave to help a friend, but she hadn’t responded.
And now, after ten years of silence, she was back. Holy hell.
“Yes. It took a long time, but Erin and I finally convinced her to come home to Heartache, at least temporarily. She’s going to renovate my father’s hunting cabin into a real home so we can put it on the market. I’m hoping she’ll stay for my wedding.” Heather tucked a strand of hair behind one ear. “I thought maybe, if you knew she was up there, you could keep an eye on her.”
No.
The reaction was strong and immediate. He wasn’t going to put himself anywhere near Amy Finley. Didn’t matter that their relationship had died a cruel death a decade ago. He didn’t need any more trouble with women than he already had.
“She’d be...what? Twenty-seven years old by now?” He rubbed the back of his neck, where his exhaustion was turning into a knot of tension. “She won’t want a watchdog.”
He tried to temper the refusal with a grin, but he had the feeling it came across more of a grimace.
“I’m sure she doesn’t.” Heather surprised him by agreeing. “But it’s a remote cabin, and the access is limited. I just thought you’d want to know someone is living up there for at least a few months. If you see anything suspicious, keep in mind she’s all alone on that hill.”
Guilt crowded away the bout of selfishness.
“Of course.” He nodded, accepting the responsibility that he suspected would only stir up trouble. “I never consider myself off duty, anyhow. I’ll know if anyone goes up or down that road.”
Zach’s fiancée beamed. She didn’t look much like Amy, who he remembered as rail thin and tall with skin so pale he could spot veins beneath its surface in bright sunlight. But there was a radiance in Heather’s eyes that was similar to her younger sister’s, a happiness so joyous a person would have to lack a pulse not to smile back.
Sam did just that.
“Thank you. I feel better knowing you’ll check on her since I’m not sure when she’ll be ready to see any of her family.” Heather bit her lip for a moment before continuing. “For now, I’m just happy she’s home for however long she’s here.” She reached to give his forearm a gentle squeeze before she brushed by him to enter town hall, her suede pumps tapping a purposeful rhythm while Sam tried to recover from her news.
Amy Finley. Back in Heartache.
He had no business feeling one way or the other about that, given how they’d parted. But that didn’t prevent an old memory from drifting through his mind—Amy riding shotgun in his pickup truck on a hot summer day, promising she knew the perfect spot for skinny-dipping. He’d been seventeen and crazy about her, and even though he was supposed to be driving them both to work, he’d ended up following her directions to a private spot in the woods, where a bend in the creek made a shady pool.
She’d slid off her shorts too fast for him to see much—and he didn’t want her to catch him drooling over her—but he’d never forgotten the way she’d darted through the green trees, laughing and teasing him the whole time.
No doubt a woman like that had moved on. Family. Kids. He hadn’t looked her up online and hadn’t asked about her, even though his best friend was now engaged to her sister.
She’d never gotten along with her family. She’d even told him once that he was the only reason she could stand to stay in Heartache...
Damn.
Shutting down the old regrets, he moved toward his truck again. He didn’t need this kind of distraction now. His personal life had gotten about a thousand times more complicated this year, for one thing. And for another? He wanted all his professional focus on solidifying the case against Jeremy Covington. He’d given up Amy ten years ago to put this guy behind bars.
He would make damn sure the sacrifice had been worth it.
RETURNING FROM THE grocery store, Amy took the Partridge Hill Road slowly, climbing the sharp incline at a respectful speed. The tarmac looked like the town had been ignoring it for decades, and she was wary of the potholes and cavernous cracks.
Her car was on its last leg—to be expected since she’d snagged it on eBay for next to nothing after her previous vehicle had died. A gray sedan built for efficiency and not comfort, the car was held together with duct tape, furnace cement, a few well-placed zip ties and a whole lot of YouTube video knowledge on DIY mechanics. She was proud she’d kept the thing running this long, but she wasn’t about to risk her luck on one of those black holes.
Even if that meant she couldn’t zip past the house where Sam Reyes lived.
She kept her eyes on the road so as not to risk any accidental sightings. Not that she wasn’t curious, of course. Her long-ago boyfriend had been hot when other teenage boys were still gangly and awkward. Her imagination could quite nicely envision him as a man full grown. She didn’t need that visual confirmed, though. Especially not after they’d had the world’s most awkward non-breakup.
He just up and disappeared. Vanished into thin air with Gabriella Chance, a particularly adorable majorette who probably would have been homecoming queen. If she hadn’t left school to run away with Sam. His mysterious email—weeks later—claiming that he’d left to “help a friend” hadn’t exactly eased her anger.
Thump!
The car dipped down into a rut she hadn’t seen. The passenger-side tire scraped something sharp, a grating noise against the wheel. She hit the gas on instinct since her vehicle was prone to stalling.
And yet, of course, her sedan died right there.
“Unacceptable.” She closed her eyes. Willed the vehicle to life. “If not for me, you would be in a scrap heap.”
Sadly,