Killer Exposure. Jessica R. Patch
his jaw, studied the room. “I want to see her first thing this morning, Greer.”
Greer exhaled a shaky breath, but she nodded. “I understand if you want to leave now.”
She understood nothing. “No, I can’t leave. As much as I want to.” He needed to clear his head. Think things out. There was so much to process and his mind was going billions of miles a minute. “Because some crazy is out there trying to kill you. So, I’ll be staying.” He paused beside her. “Make no mistake, though. It has nothing to do with how I feel about you.” She’d hidden a human being from him and if he hadn’t come to town, he still wouldn’t know! That was unfair no matter what he’d said about having or not having kids. It didn’t matter how terrified he was knowing he was a father. This was his baby. His. Baby. “But you’re the mother of my child. So, I won’t let anything happen to you. For my child’s sake.”
At the door, Greer sniffed. A sliver of him wanted to go and comfort her. But he was aching inside and needed to be alone.
“I’m taking the couch.” He marched down the hall and into the living room.
He fell onto the sofa, face in a throw pillow. Greer’s bedroom door quietly clicked closed and everything he felt, everything he’d missed out on, every slice of her betrayal, broke through and washed out his eyes on to the sagging couch.
* * *
When the alarm went off at 6:00 a.m., Greer rolled over and turned it off. She hadn’t slept a wink. After Deputy Crisp fingerprinted the window, she’d spent most of the night sobbing and begging God to help her figure this out. She’d never seen Locke so angry, though he had every right to be. Every right to hate her, to be disgusted. But he’d never understand her reasons. Locke wouldn’t believe he’d ever resent them and walk out one day. Her own dad probably hadn’t even thought that at first. One day it would happen. Locke never looked much to the future. He lived in the now. That was his way. She’d done what she thought was best. Right or wrong. She couldn’t take it back.
Now that Locke knew, Greer feared what he might do. What if he tried to take Lin from her? And do what with her? Take her to live in campers while he chased storms? Just toss her in a car seat with a toy camera as he raced with twisters? Hardly. But he was extremely impulsive to say the least, so Greer couldn’t be sure what he would or wouldn’t do.
When he’d shown up at her house after rescuing her again, she had been terrified, but then he’d taken her and held her against him. All the comfort and warmth she’d needed, he’d provided. His tenderness had been overwhelming. Twice he’d risked his life for her.
But now his protection was only due to the fact they shared a child. Any tender feelings he had were gone. Better that way, anyway.
That wasn’t the only terrifying thing sending her heart into arrhythmia. Locke was right when he said a killer wanted her dead. Somehow, the man in the maintenance uniform had discovered where she lived and she wasn’t safe. Greer had barely gotten free from his grasp a second time. Barely made it outside. If Locke hadn’t been there—again—she might not have made it at all. And what if Lin had been home? Her baby wasn’t safe, either. This guy wasn’t going to stop coming for her.
Today was going to be a long day. They had to find him. Put him away. It was the only way Greer and Lin would be safe. But before she could get to work and do her job, she had to take Locke to see Lin.
After cleaning up, she found him sitting at the kitchen table, eyes red-rimmed and hair disheveled. Didn’t look like he’d slept, either. She wasn’t sure if she was going to get more heat or if he’d blown his top and now would be less harsh. Either way, she’d take whatever dish he served up, whether hot or cold, and eat it without complaint.
“What time does she wake up?” he asked quietly.
“About now. I’ll call Tori and let her know we’re coming. Do—do you want anything to eat or drink?”
“I don’t want anything, Greer,” he murmured. “Just my daughter.”
She swallowed the ache in her throat and nodded, then went into her bedroom to call Tori—the only person in town who knew everything. Tori had been her best friend since third grade. When she reentered the kitchen, Locke had changed clothes and looked like he’d shaved. A duffel bag hung over his shoulder. The fact he’d freshened up to meet his nine-month-old baby girl sent a wave of warmth and grief through her.
He silently followed her outside.
“Do you want to ride together?”
“I do not.”
“Okay,” she mumbled. “Tori lives on a farm on the edge of town. She homesteads.” Now she was nervously babbling. “Just...follow me.”
As she neared Tori’s farm, her stomach knotted, and she felt like she might throw up. She pulled up behind Tori’s car. Locke was behind her in his Ford F-150. He followed her to the screened-in door at the side of the house. Tori met them at the door.
“This is Locke.”
“Hey,” Locke said, devoid of his typical charm and friendliness.
“Nice to meet you. She’s...she’s in her high chair.”
They entered the kitchen; the smell of toast and coffee permeated the room. Greer’s heart swelled when she saw Lin sitting in a wooden high chair with a few rice puffs on her tray. “Hi, baby girl,” Greer cooed.
Lin looked up, gave her that wide grin and banged on her tray, squealing. Nothing made Greer feel more loved and wanted. Locke hung back. His bravado, his anger, gone. He almost seemed nervous. Shy. Uncertain. Greer lifted Lin from the high chair and kissed her chubby cheek. “Mama missed you, baby girl. Did you have fun with Miss Tori?” She kissed her again and slowly brought her to Locke.
“I have some work down in the root cellar. I’ll be there if you need me.” Tori left them alone, and Greer brought Lin to him.
“She’s going through stranger anxiety so she may not warm up very fast,” Greer said.
“And do you know what that feels like, Greer? To be a stranger to your own child?” he whispered. “Does she have a name? I don’t even know my daughter’s name.” Anguish swept through his tone, and regret panged in her heart.
“Locklin, meet Stormie Lin. But she goes by Lin. L-i-n.”
Moisture formed in his eyes. “Lin,” he whispered. “Stormie Lin,” he whispered again. He looked at Greer, blinked back the moisture. His blue eyes were bright. Clear. “What’s her last name?”
Greer’s dream had always been to carry his last name. Her daughter should as well. “On the birth certificate it’s Gallagher. But around here, she’s Lin Montgomery.”
Locke sniffed, studied Lin. “At least you gave her my name legally. Thank you.”
A thank-you. Greer bit her lower lip. Locke reached out, hesitated, then touched Lin’s cheek. “Hey,” he said with a soft baby-talk tone. “Hey, Lin.”
She peered at her daddy, into identical eyes, with a somber expression. He tickled under her chin. “Do you know who I am?” He became more cheerful as if working to draw a smile. “I’m your...daddy.” His voice choked with emotion on the word. “Can you say ‘daddy’?” he asked.
Lin wrapped her pudgy hand around his finger on her chin and blew spit bubbles.
Locke chuckled, and she squealed.
“Can I...hold her?” he asked.
“We can try, yes.” Greer slowly passed Lin to Locke. “Go see your daddy, baby girl. It’s okay.”
Lin swiveled toward Greer but allowed Locke to take her in his arms. Greer had been in those arms many times. Surely, Lin would feel the strength and security in them, as Greer always had. The feeling of protection. She only hoped her baby girl would never