and they found they had a great deal in common…except for Amber’s husband, a wealthy businessman twenty-five years Amber’s senior. Everyone in Florence knew Dalton Carr, one of the areas few multimillionaires.
If only she hadn’t stopped by the Carr’s home that Friday evening. But Amber had been eager to see the swatches for the draperies and Olivia’s boss had been eager to please her wealthiest client. When she arrived at the lakefront mansion, Olivia had found the front door wide open and upon entering the marble-floored foyer, she’d heard loud voices. Amber was screeching at her husband and he was bellowing obscenities at her.
Why didn’t I just turn around and leave before they knew I was there?
When Olivia heard the first shot, she hadn’t recognized the sound, but when Amber had screamed, “No, please, Dalton,” Olivia had acted on impulse. She had dropped the material swatches, frantically raked through her purse for her cell phone and had been unable to catch her bag as it slipped out of her hand and plunged down on top of the swatches. She had dialed 911 as she’d run toward the sound of Amber’s pleading cries. Just as she reached the entrance to the downstairs master bedroom, Dalton Carr had fired another shot. Olivia had stood there, frozen to the spot, unable to move or speak as Dalton stood over his wife and shot her for the third time, that time at point-blank range.
As if sensing her presence, Dalton had turned and stared at Olivia, and then pointed the pistol directly at her. The 911 operator’s voice had come in clearly on her cell phone, clear enough so that Dalton heard the woman. Olivia had turned and run back through the house and out onto the driveway. But before she could reach her car, Dalton Carr had come out of the house, gun in hand, and almost caught up with her as she fled. Her car keys had been inside her purse in the Carr’s foyer. She’d had no choice but try to escape on foot.
Olivia moaned as the memories of that night bombarded her foggy brain. Dalton had chased her. He had shot at her. But what had happened after that? Why couldn’t she remember?
Hunching over, cuddling herself by wrapping her arms around her wet, aching body and bringing up her knees, Olivia huddled in the dismal corner as she prayed for someone to help her.
She had prayed that night, too, prayed for someone to save her from Dalton Carr.
Jed had saved her.
“You were my hero that night,” she had told him later.
Unlike tonight, that night she had kept her cell phone with her. While running away from Dalton, she had spoken to the 911 operator. She had told the woman what had happened and that she was being chased by the killer. She had run for her life, pleading with God not to let her die, hiding in the darkness, afraid to breathe.
“Miss, you’re safe.” His soothing voice had calmed her. “We have Mr. Carr in custody. He can’t hurt you.”
She had looked up into the most striking blue-gray eyes she had ever seen and instantly believed the man who was lifting her up and into his arms. Apparently, she had passed out then and when she came to hours later, she had found herself in a hospital room, Jed Merrill sitting at her bedside.
“Hello,” he’d said. “How are you feeling?”
“Okay, I guess.”
“Do you remember what happened?”
She had nodded. “I—I ran from Dalton Carr after I saw him kill his wife. He chased me. I stumbled and fell. My knees hurt and—” She had lifted her right hand and encountered a large bandage over her left shoulder. “He shot me!”
“The bullet went straight through and the doctors say there won’t be any permanent damage.”
“You were there, weren’t you? You’re the one who saved me.”
He had shrugged. “I found you hiding in the bushes on the lawn of a house about three blocks from the Carr home. I followed the blood trail.”
“Who are you?”
“Sorry, I should have already introduced myself. I’m Lieutenant Jed
If only she hadn’t stopped by the Carr’s home that Friday evening. But Amber had been eager to see the swatches for the draperies and Olivia’s boss had been eager to please her wealthiest client. When she arrived at the lakefront mansion, Olivia had found the front door wide open and upon entering the marble-floored foyer, she’d heard loud voices. Amber was screeching at her husband and he was bellowing obscenities at her.
Why didn’t I just turn around and leave before they knew I was there?
When Olivia heard the first shot, she hadn’t recognized the sound, but when Amber had screamed, “No, please, Dalton,” Olivia had acted on impulse. She had dropped the material swatches, frantically raked through her purse for her cell phone and had been unable to catch her bag as it slipped out of her hand and plunged down on top of the swatches. She had dialed 911 as she’d run toward the sound of Amber’s pleading cries. Just as she reached the entrance to the downstairs master bedroom, Dalton Carr had fired another shot. Olivia had stood there, frozen to the spot, unable to move or speak as Dalton stood over his wife and shot her for the third time, that time at point-blank range.
As if sensing her presence, Dalton had turned and stared at Olivia, and then pointed the pistol directly at her. The 911 operator’s voice had come in clearly on her cell phone, clear enough so that Dalton heard the woman. Olivia had turned and run back through the house and out onto the driveway. But before she could reach her car, Dalton Carr had come out of the house, gun in hand, and almost caught up with her as she fled. Her car keys had been inside her purse in the Carr’s foyer. She’d had no choice but try to escape on foot.
Olivia moaned as the memories of that night bombarded her foggy brain. Dalton had chased her. He had shot at her. But what had happened after that? Why couldn’t she remember?
Hunching over, cuddling herself by wrapping her arms around her wet, aching body and bringing up her knees, Olivia huddled in the dismal corner as she prayed for someone to help her.
She had prayed that night, too, prayed for someone to save her from Dalton Carr.
Jed had saved her.
“You were my hero that night,” she had told him later.
Unlike tonight, that night she had kept her cell phone with her. While running away from Dalton, she had spoken to the 911 operator. She had told the woman what had happened and that she was being chased by the killer. She had run for her life, pleading with God not to let her die, hiding in the darkness, afraid to breathe.
“Miss, you’re safe.” His soothing voice had calmed her. “We have Mr. Carr in custody. He can’t hurt you.”
She had looked up into the most striking blue-gray eyes she had ever seen and instantly believed the man who was lifting her up and into his arms. Apparently, she had passed out then and when she came to hours later, she had found herself in a hospital room, Jed Merrill sitting at her bedside.
“Hello,” he’d said. “How are you feeling?”
“Okay, I guess.”
“Do you remember what happened?”
She had nodded. “I—I ran from Dalton Carr after I saw him kill his wife. He chased me. I stumbled and fell. My knees hurt and—” She had lifted her right hand and encountered a large bandage over her left shoulder. “He shot me!”
“The bullet went straight through and the doctors say there won’t be any permanent damage.”
“You were there, weren’t you? You’re the one who saved me.”
He had shrugged. “I found you hiding in the bushes on the lawn of a house about three blocks from the Carr home. I followed the blood trail.”
“Who are you?”
“Sorry, I should have already introduced myself. I’m Lieutenant Jed
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