Midnight Exposure (37 page)

Not likely.

She leaned her aching head against the vinyl. The detective droned on. “A search of the mayor’s basement turned up all sorts of books and objects related to pagan religious rituals, specifically human sacrifices. It seems like that was their intention. The collection of Celtic artifacts is extensive. Some of the stuff is museum-worthy.”

“Any idea why they did all this?” Reed’s face was pale. His green eyes lacked their usual intensity.

“Maybe.” The detective gestured with his pen. “An e-mail on the mayor’s laptop indicates that his uncle was suffering from an extremely rare genetic disorder called Campbell’s Insomnia. Lesions form in the thalamus of the brain, which is the area that regulates sleep. The individual loses the ability to sleep. Dementia and hallucinations develop in the first six months or so, progressing to coma and death within a year or two.”

“So they go crazy and then die from
insomnia
?” Reed asked.

“Basically, yes.” The detective nodded. “The disease is genetic, so Mayor Hall and his son may very well carry the gene. If so, they’ll both eventually develop the disease. There’s no treatment and no cure.”

“What about the…er…” Reed glanced at the sleeping boy next to him. “Thing on the pole?”

Jayne flinched. Did Scott know about the decapitation? He’d find out eventually. Horrific information, even though the act had been performed postmortem. As if the kid hadn’t had enough horror already.

“Ancient Celts thought
that
was the source of power in a person.” The detective dropped his voice further. “Dental records confirm that it’s Zack Miller.”

“Do you have any leads on Nathan’s whereabouts?” Reed shifted his position and winced.

“We have some theories, but nothing is substantiated.” The detective stuck his pen in his chest pocket. “A thorough investigation is underway. We’re just as concerned as you are that Nathan is still on the loose. I assure you an extensive manhunt is being conducted throughout the New England area. We will find him.”

What if they didn’t?

Reed nodded. “How’s Jed?”

Detective Rossi closed his mini notebook. “Just out of surgery. Doctor’s giving him even odds.”

That could have been Reed. If Aaron’s knife had been two inches lower, it wouldn’t have been deflected by Reed’s ribs.

Jayne closed her eyes. What was she going to do? She didn’t want to go home. She didn’t want to go anywhere without Reed, let alone eight hundred miles away from him. She could live in this icebox of a state. She could live without Starbucks. She could even live without her brothers. She’d miss them every day, but she’d live.

Watching Reed bleed all over his truck had convinced her she wanted every possible minute with this man.

But did he want her? They hadn’t spoken about the message from her editor. They’d barely exchanged two words since arriving at the hospital. His trust in her had been decimated. Could he ever forgive her?

Reed asked a couple more questions and the cop left.

Pat cleared his throat. “You should go back to your bed, Jaynie, and get some rest.”

“In a bit.” Jayne’s eyes found Reed’s. He met her gaze, but his mouth tightened.

Pat’s gaze ping-ponged from Jayne to Reed and back again. “I’m going for coffee. I’ll come back for you. Please don’t go back to your room alone.” With a suggestive nod to Conor, Pat ducked out of the room.

Conor was at Pat’s heels. “Coffee sounds good.”

Though Scott was unconscious, Jayne lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’m so sorry, Reed. I should’ve told you that I worked for the
Scoop
. My editor got a lead that R. S. Morgan lived at your address and sent me to check it out. But I didn’t confirm it. I didn’t send any shots of you. The paper is running a piece on the kidnappings, though, just like all the rest. Your identity will come out. I don’t see how you can escape it.” Apparently, the only thing that paid better than celebrity humiliation was murder. The ritual Celtic angle of the killing was the cherry on her editor’s sundae. “They’re paying me for an interview, then I’m done with them. Back to travel mags. Money isn’t worth selling my soul. My brothers and I have been broke before. We’ll manage.”

Reed’s eyes softened. “I can’t hide anymore.”

A tear blurred Jayne’s vision. “I know. I feel like that’s all my fault. If I hadn’t come here to expose you…”

Reed reached across the bed. His fingers beckoned. Jayne set her palm in his. Her heart swelled as his hand closed around hers. “It wouldn’t have changed anything. Aaron would’ve kidnapped someone else. Maybe someone less resilient. You foiled his plan by fighting back and escaping. If you hadn’t come here, he might’ve gotten away with multiple counts of murder. Who knows where it would’ve ended.” His voice cracked. “Without you, Scott might not be here.”

Jayne couldn’t believe her ears. Had he really forgiven her? “Your life isn’t going to be nice and quiet the way you like it.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m done with hiding. R. S. Morgan is coming clean.” Reed tugged her closer. “What would you say if I put my house up for sale? I’ve been thinking of moving south, like maybe to Philadelphia.”

Joy bounded through Jayne’s heart.

“I love you, Jayne Sullivan.”

“I love you too.”

“I don’t want to live eight hundred miles away from you.”

“Me either.” Sheesh. She was a blubbering idiot. “But the pictures.”

“I don’t give a shit about the pictures. All I care about is you and Scott. My son almost died tonight. You risked your life to help me save him. Without you, I’d have nothing left worth living for. I owe you everything. And I know you. You couldn’t have gone through with selling me out.” Wincing, Reed leaned forward and kissed her.

Jayne pushed him back onto the bed. “You’ll tear your stitches.” Reed settled back on the pillow. “I assumed the town would ask you to be chief.”

“They did. I turned them down.” Reed tugged at her hand. “I don’t belong here, Jayne. The town council will have to deal with Doug or find someone else for the job. Besides, I want you and Scott far away from Huntsville as quickly as possible.”

“Really?”

“Really. I can sculpt anywhere, Jayne. I just need to be with you.” Reed pulled her onto the bed. “Come here.”

“So, all of a sudden you’re Mr. Easygoing?” Jayne stretched out on her side next to him and brushed her lips across his stubbled
jaw. “You didn’t even choke when Scott told you he didn’t want to go to college in the fall.”

Reed grimaced. “After seeing him tied to that post in the woods, I wouldn’t care if he told me he wanted to go to clown college or become a carny.”

“He’s an adult. His choices.”

“Whatever.” Reed pulled her closer. “The moment I met you, my whole life changed direction. Even my work has taken on a new look. No more negativity. No more hiding.”

She stretched out next to him, careful not to touch the large bandage. His arm went around her as she leaned against his shoulder and slid her hand over the center of his chest. Reed’s heart thudded against her palm.

“I need you, Jayne.” Reed covered her hand with his. “Did I tell you the name of my new piece?”

“No.”

“
Triumph
.” Reed lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “And I can’t finish it without you.”

THE END

Photograph by John Tannock Photography

Melinda Leigh abandoned her career in banking to raise her kids and never looked back. She started writing as a hobby and became addicted to creating characters and stories. Since then, she has won numerous writing awards for her paranormal romance and romantic-suspense fiction. Her debut novel,
She Can Run
, was a number one bestseller in Kindle Romantic Suspense, a 2011 Best Book Finalist (The Romance Reviews), and a nominee for the 2012 International Thriller Award for Best First Book. When she isn’t writing, Melinda is an avid martial artist: she holds a second-degree black belt in Kenpo karate and teaches women’s self-defense. She lives in a messy house with her husband, two teenagers, a couple of dogs, and two rescue cats.