Stolen Hearts (Thoroughbred Men Book 2)

Stolen Hearts

by

Ginny Sterling

Dedication

Jill, I still can’t believe you referred to me as a “dirty bird”-even if it’s true.

Daddy you must stop reading the ‘naughty bits’, seriously… and if you insist?

Let me tell you, Hubby taught me ALL of that!

Now, who is traumatized?

1

              “Well, crap!” Millie said aloud as she pulled over and looked into her rearview mirror. The blue and red lights flashed brightly in the dimming sunlight as she pulled to the side of the main thoroughfare. She was seriously having issues with her newest acquisition: a bright red SUV with a Hemi engine.

              She had been practically talked into the purchase, and it was an easy sale for the salesman. Her eleven-year-old van was dying a slow death. The beautiful sports utility vehicle screamed comfort and could seat several people. It was honestly a perfect vehicle for her budding real estate business, except for a few minor flaws. It drank gas like you wouldn't believe and this was her second speeding ticket in two months.

              Millie let out a huge sigh, rolled down her window and got out her license and proof of insurance. This vehicle was getting super expensive, really quickly. Millie said not a word and flung her arm out the window, extending her paperwork to the officer walking up behind the car slowly and leisurely.

            
 
“Well, well, well, Millicent Clark. We met like this not too long ago, didn't we?” Officer Graham crowed loudly. “Seriously, young lady, you have got to stop this or you are going to end up arrested. You are in jeopardy of losing your license! Now how are you going to drive your customers around if you don't have your license?” he asked mockingly and whipped out his pad and pen.

            
 
“Yes, Officer Graham, this is becoming a problem quickly. I realize that,” she said coldly. “Can we get on with this and not give me a hard time about it?” Millie snapped.

                            She was angry at herself for speeding through town and it just drove so nice she had no idea how fast she had actually been going. In fact, the last time she had been caught by Officer Graham, she had been doing 80 mph on the highway, which had a posted speed limit of 65 mph. He had smirked and mocked her then too. Everyone seemed to know that if you see Millie in the red car, go ahead and clock her speed. It was getting old really fast and she wasn't exactly sure how to fix it. Putting a line on the instrument cluster only helped on the highway, the damn car just drove great and had too much power for her little lead foot!

              Officer Graham snatched her license and registration from her and changed his tone really quickly, matching Millie’s icy demeanor. “Listen, Clark, do not let me be the one to catch you again. Slow down and take that as your one warning from me. You are going ten over, but that attitude will get you more trouble if you don't watch it.”

              Millie shut up quickly and watched him write out a citation and rip it harshly off the pad. He handed it to her angrily and said, “I’m serious. Slow down before you end up hurting someone or yourself. If that is too much car for you, maybe you should find a line of work that doesn't involve driving and carting people around town.”

              Millie smiled syrupy at the grumpy old man. “Thank you so much, Officer, I appreciate your advice and will do my best,” she said, taking the documents from him. Mentally cursing him the entire time.

            
 
“See that you do, Millie. It’s for the best you know,” he said and tipped his hat at her. He walked back to the patrol car, flipped off the overhead lights and pulled away.

              Millie looked down at the ticket, groaned, and rolled her eyes. He seriously gave her a citation for speeding and wrote boldly across it “Second offense.” That was going to look fantastic when she appeared to pay it.

              Millie headed back to the office, puttering along it felt, through the town that had a marked speed of 30 mph. She felt like she was dragging along but there was absolutely no way she was giving that grumpy old man a reason to stop her again, especially after the veiled threat. As prissy as he was, he would probably arrest her or suspend her license, which would absolutely destroy her career in the small town. As it was, if word got out ‘lead foot Millie’ was dangerous to ride with, it would make it darn hard to show homes.

              Millie pulled in front of her office located farther up the road on the main street bisecting the town. She exited and walked around the SUV to unload the signs and waved at Sarah across the way. Sarah was pulling in her tripod sign that was perched out front and flipping off the open sign in the glass window of her bakery called BatterUp! Millie waved back politely. Sarah was so nice to everyone, and Millie was glad to see she hadn't seemed to change, still nice to everyone, except she never stayed late anymore - when she did, she usually had her boyfriend there.

              It seemed like yesterday she had walked over to get a muffin and coffee after her client cancelled on her last minute, only to find Sarah on the floor beaten and bruised. Millie was aghast that something like Sarah’s assault would happen in such a small town in Kentucky.

              That was part of the appeal after all-safety and security…and everyone knew you. At least, that was how she presented it to any out-of-towner who was shopping for homes in the area. Millie had stayed with Sarah until the police showed up and then quickly ducked out when she saw
him
arrive.

              Officer Jacob Hunter made her knees weak and made cool, composed Millicent feel like a fumbling, stuttering, teenager. When Jacob arrived at the scene, he glanced over the area. Their eyes met then he proceeded to help Sarah. Millie stepped away quickly. She gave her statement to the other officer arrived, who happened to be the same that ticketed her just now, and promptly got away from Jacob, Sarah, and the bakery. To be honest, it scared her that something like that had happened and could happen to anyone. Sarah was so sweet and nice. How could someone do that to her?

              Millie unloaded the signs from the open house she had just hosted and unlocked the front door of her office. Danielle had already left for the day at 4:00 PM.  Millie was arriving back at the office late, opened the door, propped it open against her high heeled foot and dragged the signs inside, locking it behind her quickly. She still felt antsy, couldn't help it. They hadn't found the person yet and it creeped her out to no end.

              Millie kicked off her heels and walked barefoot across the tile floor to her desk. She uploaded the photos, responded to a few emails and was finishing up when she heard a loud pop from outside her office. She looked up and saw a man standing by the glass, she yelped and ducked down, grabbing her phone. Millie called the police immediately.

            
 
“911 can I help you?” the voice on the end of the line droned.

“Yes, my name is Millicent Clark of Clark Realtors in Pleasureville and there is a man outside my office. I think I heard a shot fire! I don't know.”

            
 
“Yes, ma’am, we have an officer on the scene already,” the voice on the line reported back after a brief hold.

            
 
“Thank you,” Millie gushed nervously. She stayed ducked behind her desk until she saw those darn blue & red lights bouncing all over the walls of her office. Millie peeked over the desk and sat back stunned. There were patrol cars everywhere… but in front of Sarah’s bakery, not in front of her office. Surely to heaven, Sarah was all right?

              Millie raced over to the door, barefoot, hesitated and put on her heels. Composure plus you didn't want to end up with glass or something in your feet! She unlocked the office, locked it again behind her and walked calmly over to the growing crowd that was gathering. “What is going on?” Millie asked calmly and then staggered when she saw the bullet hole in the glass. “Oh my word! Is Sarah okay?” she squeaked and then clenched her now shaking hands.

              One of the officers turned and started yelling at the crowd, asking them to all step back. Millie could hear the wail of the ambulance coming down the road and stepped back with the crowd towards the hardware store at the corner.  Everyone parted to make room for the oncoming ambulance. The EMTs hopped out and unloaded a gurney from the back, and headed to the door. Officers opened the door and held it for them in order to wheel in the gurney.

              Millie heard car brakes lock up behind her and flinched, not knowing if she or the crowd would be hit. Sarah’s boyfriend, Matt, shoved his way through the crowd. Matt made eye contact with Millie and she could see how pale and distraught he was. The line of police stopped him, and then let him through. Millie decided to step back and give them all room, plus the crowd was pushing against her and she was not a ‘rubber neck’ type of person, she was simply afraid something had happened to Sarah again.

              Millie stepped back, circled the crowd, and glanced over her shoulder as she crossed the large street. She did a double take at the body bag being wheeled out on the gurney. She audibly gasped in relief when she saw Sarah in the window, safe. Thank goodness!  Millie strode back to her office, grabbed her purse and headed to her car, thankful that maybe they caught the person who had beat up her business neighbor and growing friend. She climbed in her SUV and glanced again at the scene, locked her car doors for good measure and slowly heading home.

              Jacob exited the building with his supervisor, a knot in his stomach. He had been patrolling the street and saw Millicent Clark pull up in her new big flashy car-complete with her phone number on the back glass. He had been assigned duty to watch for suspicious activity in the area, particularly to watch Sarah Donnally and see if the attacker returned to the scene to finish his attempt on her. He had spent time watching the bakery from his car and occasionally would get out and walk the street, checking, but usually caught himself looking for signs of Millicent Clark at the same time.

              Millicent Clark was classy and cold.  She was stunningly gorgeous to look at. Smooth long black hair, pale skin and always wore fitted suits. Heels. She always wore the hottest heels he had ever seen. Her long legs looked like they went on for miles whenever he saw her, he couldn't help but look at her when she walked. Those heels made him think about warming up the ice queen.  She reminded him of an iceberg: frigid, stunning to behold and untouchable. Everyone knew she was business personified and rarely ever seen just ‘hanging out’ around town.

              Jacob had parked his patrol car up the street and had been walking the block when he saw Millicent exit her car and attempt to drag signs into her office. He watched her from a distance pull and lug the signs. They were plastered with her picture and labeled for the open house, advertising her company. He viewed the scene before him. As she tugged the heavy displays, her pants suit shaped her behind quite nicely. So nicely, he almost missed Tyler Randall step into the small doorway across the road from the real estate office.

              Jacob dropped down behind a car, pulled his gun silently and started to race down the street. He ducked behind each vehicle as not to be seen. Jacob called on his radio quietly reporting his findings and announced he was in pursuit.

              Jacob got to Millicent’s vehicle, looked towards the bakery and saw Tyler holding a gun, gesturing wildly, and then pointing at Sarah who was backing way. He waited and watched for a moment. Stepped closer, clear of Millicent’s vehicle. He stood tall and saw Tyler level the gun towards Sarah with his finger on the trigger. Jacob fired from across the street and ran towards the bakery, heart pounding with adrenaline, fearing that he missed or that Tyler had shot the gun towards Sarah before he could stop him.

              Jacob came up to the door, saw Sarah had left the scene and tried the entrance. Locked. He reared back, kicked at the entry. He felt the wood splinter and give way, opening. He raced inside, alarm now blaring loudly. He held his gun tightly in front of him, came around the counter carefully and saw Tyler on the floor, dead. He went through the kitchen and still saw no signs of Sarah, other than she had fled through the rear exit.

              For Jacob, the next several hours were a blur of activity and exhausting. He had to give a statement repeatedly of what had happened and why he fired. He had to turn in a report to his chief regarding the events, and the crash from the rush from earlier had worn him out…and for some reason, Jacob could only think about calm, cool, composed, Millicent and how she would handle the situation.

              Over the next week, Jacob grew more and more uncomfortable with what had happened. He was being praised everywhere he went as a hero. Jacob left his apartment and was hailed by his neighbor, who thanked him again for being an officer. He went to the grocery and the butcher told him that he “did the town a favor,” and gave him a steak. He went to mail his bills and buy stamps, he was poked on the shoulder by a mother pushing a stroller, who thanked him for making sure they were all taken care of and protected. Jacob was growing very uncomfortable with the attention.

              The guys at the precinct said not a word, but the silence spoke volumes.  He felt like an outsider. In a small town, you gave citations, made calls, served papers but nothing major like investigating assault charges, much less killing the culprit. Jacob did not feel much like a hero; he felt like a fraud and felt guilty he had taken a life. Regardless, Tyler Randall was once someone’s son or brother and he had taken that away.