Love At Peace (Hometown Heartstrings #3)

Chapter 21

Heather

W orking the day after Thanksgiving should’ve felt weird, but it didn’t. Burton didn’t have that heavy of a shopping center. Main Street offered a few boutique places, but even they didn’t appeal for the biggest shopping day of the year. Most people in town drove to the closest city or hit up the nearest suburbs for the supposedly hot deals and sales at Wal-Mart and Target.

I was so busy during the morning that I lacked a chance to even sit down and think. Not only was I helping Janelle with some end-of-the-month paperwork, but I was also keeping up with the texts on my phone.

Hearing Ashley claim that she had a video that would damn David for slipping a mickey in a woman’s drink was the gift I’d been waiting for. Given how rocky my interactions had always been with her, though, I doubted she’d come through.

“If he didn’t try to go after my friend, I wouldn’t have cared,” she told me at the food mart. “I mean, it happens to all of us. Shit happens. It’s part of being a woman, having to worry about a drug in our drinks.”

I shook my head. “No. It shouldn’t be that way.”

She scoffed. “I’m too smart for that shit. And that’s how I caught him. No one’s going to be that quick with me .”

Now that sounded like her. Smug and untouchable.

“I lost count of how many idiots tried to slip a date rape drug in my drink in college.”

I blinked. “You went to college?”

“Dropped out the first semester, but whatever. This asshole, your David guy—”

“Whoa. No. He’s not mine.”

“Whatever. It sounds like he came to town looking for you.” She narrowed her eyes, as if she was rethinking helping me.

“He stalked me, Ashley. Stalked me. It’s so complicated to explain, but he is not my anything. Except my enemy. One I want to take down and make pay.”

She pointed at me. “Now that, I can help you with. If he hadn’t gone after Imogen, I wouldn’t have cared. I would’ve crossed him off as another pathetic asshole not worth my time after trying to drug me. But Imogen? Shit. She and her hubby just divorced. She just miscarried and lost her baby. Her mom and dad disowned her. Life was shitting on her, and then some asshole’s gonna try to date rape her? Uh-uh. Not on my watch is that asshole getting away with it. He messed with the wrong woman.”

I huffed. “It sounds like he messed with the wrong best friend who is a mama bear.”

“Exactly. No one messes with my friends.”

“Must be nice.”

“Oh, suck it up.” She smiled. “You always have. I give you shit because it never works. You’re a stone-cold hard soul to crack. You’ve never let me win and feel like I got to you.”

I laughed once. “You have. Trust me, you have.”

“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” she quipped.

I arched a brow.

“Fuck. Fine. I’m sorry, Heather. I’ve been a rotten bitch to you all my life because I hate how free you are. I’ve envied how independent you are and can do whatever you want.”

I’d never realized how confined she must have felt all this time, but it wasn’t hard to imagine. Her family was the big shot family of Burton, and I supposed she did have a lot of expectations to uphold and meet.

“Maybe we can reschedule this kumbaya moment for another day, all right? I want to make David pay.”

She narrowed her eyes. “If he was so bad, why didn’t you make him pay earlier?”

“Like I said, it’s complicated. You think you might have him by the balls with this video, but I know better. He’s a lawyer, and he’s got connections everywhere.”

She smiled. “So does my daddy. He might not want to piss off someone who donates money to his campaign, but he’s taught me a thing or two about how those political maneuvers work. How to use leverage with the right, bigger person.”

I shrugged. “You’ll send me the link to the video then?”

She nodded. “I’ll text you a copy of it too.”

Today, she seemed to want to start the process of befriending me. She was twenty years too late. Since kindergarten, she was terrible to me, but it seemed she’d changed to want to help me now. It was a moment of sisterhood, of women lifting each other up, and I wouldn’t let my reservations about accepting help hold me back now.

This morning, however, just wasn’t an idle time for me to tell her that I couldn’t reply to her rapid-fire texts. She was the kind of texter who send seven messages in a row, like a battery.

By lunchtime, I felt frazzled and pulled in too many directions. This new, strange almost comradeship with Ashley would take some getting used to. Then all the work tasks that we were handling without Fergus there to assist. And still this matter of trying to get David caught and held accountable for his actions.

Needless to say, I had a lot on my mind.

Nance accompanied me to the café, where we found that they were serving turkey leftovers. That suited me fine. I ate around talking, and Nance was intent on getting me to spill all.

“I am not surprised that he’d slip a drug into a woman’s drink,” she said, keeping her voice down so our talk could be confidential. “He seems like the sort to do that.”

“He is the sort to do that.”

She paused, her turkey BLT halfway to her mouth. “Did he drug you?” She almost whispered it with how quietly she asked.

“I— He—” I closed my lips and exhaled through my nose. “I don’t want to go into the details about what he did to me. With me. I have no evidence. And the times that I went to the cops or tried to tell someone what he was doing, no one listened. But someone will pay attention to Ashley’s video. Marty will be able to start...something.”

She nodded. “I called him too.” She cringed, ducking and lifting her shoulders. “I’m sorry. I know I said I wouldn’t, but after I saw him rush up to you outside my house I just couldn’t stop thinking about how different that could’ve turned out if Fergus and I weren’t there.”

I sighed, placing my hand on hers that she rested on the table. “It’s okay. If anyone were to ever lie to me about something, that was forgivable. Yes, I wanted to count on her to not tell someone my secrets or talk about confidential stuff behind my back, but in that case, she’d done it to protect me. I understood that.

“Will you come with me to the station so I can talk to Marty?” I asked.

She beamed, lighting up with instant excitement. “Right now? On our lunch break? Hell yeah!”

“Well, I was thinking we could go back to the bank.” I checked the time on my watch. We only had twenty minutes left and my conversation with Burton’s personable cop would take longer than that. “Tell Janelle, and then walk over there.”

She nodded, agreeing. “Oh, for sure. She’d totally understand. I mean, today’s a busy day, but she’ll understand.”

I hoped so.

After we paid for our lunches, we walked back toward the bank. While I was nervous, a little thread of excitement struck me too. I was going to do something other than run away and try to hide from my ex. I would take action, for better or worse. It was odd that I had the support that I did—my former childhood bully, a new coworker, and potentially, the last man I’d ever kiss. Roarke had that quality, that appeal of being the one, but I tried to keep myself looking at this one step at a time.

Ashley’s video of David trying to drug a woman was a huge turning point, and it was what helped me refocus my goals from running to fighting. I didn’t have to do this alone.

“I can’t wait. I cannot wait for that punk to get what he’s got coming to him.”

“I just hope it works.”

“Even if he tries to weasel his way out of trouble, you’re doing the right thing. He’s probably responsible for knocking out and punching your cousin. That’s assault. He’s harassed you. And with this video of him trying to drug a woman at the bar, he’s taken the whole being-an-asshole gig way too far. Someone’s got to stand up to him.”

Hearing her list the grievances against him reinforced me to go through with this. To show Marty that video. To tell him all that David had done. As soon as I spoke with Marty, I’d text Ashley back to let that video go live online.

Or that was the plan.

When Nance and I arrived at the bank, it seemed that Marty was making it easier for me. He was there, back in the employee area near our offices. I wouldn’t have to tell Janelle that I wanted to speak with him at the police station, with Nance as my backup. He’d come here.

Janelle stood next to him. Her brow was creased and lined with worry. Both of them stood together, almost blocking my way to my desk. As if they’d been waiting for me.

That wasn’t all.

I took in the full scene of the workplace I was so familiar with already after a short time.

Two others were standing near my office door. The woman, I had no clue who she was. But the man, I could’ve sworn I recognized his face. I’d only seen it in a small circle on my computer screen though, in the form of a user ID photo linked to the email I had for the county worker I had to email most often.

“What’s going on?” Nance asked.

I couldn’t find my voice. Seeing this many people looking at me, with equal parts worry and condemnation, I felt dizzy with anxiety.

They’re county officials. I only had one connection to them.

The toy drive.

The toy drive that they’re still investigating because of the compromised data from my laptop.

“Janelle?” I asked, wishing my voice was stronger and wouldn’t show how nervous I was.

Marty cleared his throat mildly, getting my attention before my boss could reply. “Heather? Fraud complaints are being filed against the bank. Against you. I’m here to handle the proper collection of evidence for the county.”

Nance’s jaw dropped. I went rigid.

“I’m...I’m...” I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t ask it. I could barely think with the proverbial rug being pulled out from beneath my feet.

“There are concerns about you committing fraud,” Janelle said, repeating what Marty said but in a gentler tone, as if my slack-jawed reaction indicated I was confused.

Nevaeh!

She was having me framed for fraud.