Читать книгу Betrayed Birthright - Liz Shoaf - Страница 14

FIVE

Abby spit dirt out of her mouth and coughed as she tried to lift her head. Her eyes felt scorched and her throat burned from the smoke. She could barely breathe beneath the heavy weight covering her.

Noah! Is he okay?

Facedown on the ground, she tried to move, but froze when he stirred on top of her. Relief slammed through her when he whispered against her neck, “Don’t move. If the shooter is still here, we want him or her to think we’re dead.”

Her heart slammed against her chest and she whispered a quick prayer. She wasn’t ready to die, and Noah had a son to raise. It would be her fault if that sweet young boy was orphaned. “Dear Lord, please, please, please keep us safe until help arrives.”

Noah stayed quiet and Abby took short, gasping breaths until a siren wailed in the distance. Within minutes, Cooper’s patrol car swerved into the church parking lot and skidded to a stop. Noah’s deputy opened the driver’s door and took position, using the door as cover, his gun raised through the open window. Abby’s fear and tension lessened when soft lips moved against her neck.

“At least Cooper followed proper procedure. There might be hope for my deputy, after all.”

Her anxiety lessened, but there was someone who wanted her dead badly enough to blow up a church, and they might still be out there. A shiver of fear racked her body and she hated it. She’d never been afraid of anything and she refused to start now. She had faith that God was in control and Noah would solve the mystery surrounding her. He didn’t know it yet, but she was going to help him. Her grandmother had always taught her to face fear head-on.

A passing thought of the beautiful, Steinway baby grand piano that she had donated to the church—now burning to ashes along with the rest of the building—brought forth a blaze of fury.

“Abby, can you get up and run to the car?”

“You bet I can.” She swiped the hair out of her eyes. “I’m fine, just shaken.”

“Here’s what we’re going to do. On the count of three, I want you to stand as fast as you can and run to the car. Jump in through the driver’s-side door, climb into the back seat and lay down on the floor. I’ll be right behind you.”

He didn’t give her time to think. He counted to three and she scrambled to her feet. He used his body as a protective shield as she stumbled to the car. Once inside, she crawled into the back seat and nose-dived to the floor.

She heard Noah whispering instructions to his deputy.

“Looks like the shooter is gone, but we won’t take any chances. You cover me to the tree line. I’m going to check the perimeter of the property. I know the general trajectory of the bullet. The perp was up high, possibly perched in a tree.”

Abby squeezed her eyes shut when Cooper gave a shaky response. “Are you sure, Sheriff? I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“Cooper, you’ve been trained for this and you can do it. Stay focused and cover me.”

Noah’s voice oozed authority, command and encouragement. A true leader. In that moment, Abby’s heart—one that had slammed shut after losing her husband and unborn child—opened just the tiniest bit.

She prayed until she heard Noah’s voice.

“All clear.”

She didn’t know how much time had passed, but finally another siren wailed in the distance and Noah spoke again. “I don’t think there’s going to be much left for the fire truck to save.”

Abby closed her eyes against an invasion of disbelief and devastation. Fire truck, as in one? Blessing’s only house of worship was burning to the ground and it was her fault. The building, over a hundred years old, had tremendous historical value. It was irreplaceable.

The back door of the patrol car opened and Noah held out a hand. She grabbed it and allowed him to help her from the floor and out of the vehicle. Both of them coughed and stood in morbid silence, watching as four firemen fought to douse the flames.

God’s house was slowly being reduced to a smoldering heap of burning timber. Abby curled her hands at her sides and gritted her teeth. “This is my fault. I led whoever is after me to Blessing and now they’ve destroyed the church.”

Before Noah could offer platitudes, she turned to him. Soot covered his face, but she didn’t see any burns. “You saved my life. Are you okay?”

“Abby, this isn’t your fault. We’ll find the person responsible.”

“Yes, we will, and they’re going to go to jail for burning this beautiful building. And my piano.”

Cooper joined them. “The fire chief says it’s a total loss. I hope the church has insurance.” A sad, quiet moment passed as they stood, staring at the burning building.

Abby spoke up first. “I’m now taking an active role in this investigation, so get used to it.”

His sudden grin threw her off balance.

“What?”

His smile widened. “Ever since meeting you, I’ve thought of you as a steel magnolia. A sweet Southern belle with a spine of steel.”

The description stunned her for a moment, but then she realized she liked it. She liked it a lot. “You can thank my grandmother for the steel side of my personality. At least you didn’t call me Tinker Bell.”

“Now that you mention it—”

“Don’t even say it.”

* * *

The next morning, Abby cracked her eyes open and carefully stretched her body to work out the kinks. Before going to bed, she had taken a long, hot shower to get rid of the horrid, smoky stench and relax her muscles. Hitting the hard ground and having a large man slam his body on top of hers had left a few bruises. But she wasn’t complaining. Noah had saved her life.

Bates jumped on the bed, sat on his haunches and stared at her. She chuckled at the dog’s antics. “Come on, Bates, baby, give Mama a morning snuggle. I sure could use one.”

He licked her face and rooted his nose against her neck. She laughed, but after a few minutes pushed the dog away. “Enough. I have to get moving. I have a ton of things to do today.”

The familiar interlude put things in perspective.

Abby put the finishing touches on her makeup and wondered if Noah was up. He had insisted on staying in her guest bedroom—she would never tell Grammy that a man she wasn’t married to had stayed in her house overnight. The doorbell rang, and Bates was already standing at attention in front of the door when she hit the top of the stairs. The dog was alert but not concerned. He always stayed quiet, but she was beginning to understand his body language. The person ringing her doorbell was not an enemy.

Noah sped out of the kitchen just as she reached the foyer. “I asked Cooper to bring me some clothes.”

She smiled. “Good morning, Sheriff.”

He didn’t smile back. Something was wrong. He opened the door and there stood Cooper with a suitcase in hand.

“Got here as soon as I could, Sheriff. Ms. Newsome’s cat got stuck in a tree again and I had to get him down. Sam’s an ornery old tabby. Bit me on the hand while I was rescuing him.”

Noah grabbed the suitcase. “Thanks. Call if you need me.”

He was about to shut the door but Abby scooted around him. She frowned at Noah as she passed and then blessed Cooper with a big smile. “Would you like to come in and have a cup of coffee?”

Cooper reacted to the dark look on Noah’s face. “No, ma’am. I appreciate it, but I have to get back to the station.”

The deputy practically ran off the porch before Abby could say a word. She rounded on Noah. “That was rude.”

He ignored her and turned toward the kitchen. “Come on. I got a pot of coffee going.”

She followed him, fixed a cup for herself and sat down across from him. They stared at each other. The situation reminded her of two circling dogs. She didn’t care for the suspicious look in his eyes. She’d always been a straightforward person, and she leaned on that trait now, even as her heart plummeted.

“Spit it out, Sheriff. I have a right to know what’s going on.”

* * *

Noah wanted to believe Abby Mayfield was exactly who she claimed to be, but during his tenure at the FBI, he’d learned things were seldom as they appeared. He had to separate his emotions from the facts and do his job.

Firming his resolve, he organized his thoughts and maintained a mask of professionalism. “I need more information on your parents’ histories. Did they always live in North Carolina, or is it possible they lived elsewhere before you were born? Anything you can remember will help.”