Authors: D. T. Jones
“I have never forgiven myself for that and I have never allowed myself to be taunted into losing control again. I realized how stupid I acted that night on the plane and how close I had come to pushing you past your limits. I won’t do it again. I will not make you feel like you are beyond control of your emotions, not like that. That’s why when I tell you, you are in control of when and how much you can handle, I mean it. If you say no, then it’s no; if you say stop, I’ll stop. No questions asked. I will go beyond my own safety to protect you no matter the cost.”
“I trust you Creighton and I know you will never hurt me,” she whispered. “What happened was a long time ago and it’s over, you can’t blame yourself for her death.”
“It’s because of me she left the safety of England,” he said, the sorrow gripping his words. “I didn’t stop even when she begged me to.”
“But you’re not like that,” Sandra insisted. “When I’ve asked you to stop, you have, immediately. I don’t fear you and I never will.” Creighton suddenly lifted her into his arms, turning her to face him and sitting her astride his legs.
“I will never give you reason to mistrust me,” he promised. “You are my soul; because of you I can move forward past my nightmares. With you I have a future and hope for a normal life. I’ve allowed my money and my looks to get me whatever I wanted and because of that I cost a woman her life. There is no forgiveness for something like that.”
“Now you listen to me,” she said sternly. “You are a good man, you do good things and people love you. She was the one who told you to beat her; you didn’t want to do it. Maybe the reason she left was because she knew she had done something unspeakably evil to another person, that she had caused what happened to her and created the situation that put you in the position of uncontrollable limits. You can’t continue to blame yourself for what happened; there were two of you there and she was just as responsible for what happened as you were.” Creighton sighed again, pulling her against his chest and kissing her lips.
“You are my savior,” he whispered. “You are my reason and my conscious and I will never let you forget how desperately I need you, or how deeply I love you.” His lips fell across hers again; his kiss becoming more passionate as she raised her hips and allowed him to slide into her body. It was like a soul searing, soul healing act and he took advantage of her gift, thrusting into her until his soul was cleansed. In her arms he was safe, in her heart he was loved; in her eyes he was perfect. He would never do anything to alter that opinion or to let her regret her decision to join her life with his.
“Davies will have the plane here by ten,” he told her later that day as they lay embraced on the sofa, a book of wallpaper and window treatment open on her lap. The
afternoon had been spent discussing their designs for the house. Creighton told her about Andrew’s email and that they could move in when they returned to Yorkshire. They had emailed Maxine, the designer who was working on the house and assured her they would decide on what colors, schemes and furniture they wanted for the rooms and let her know by the time they reached Kansas.
Sandra had spent nearly forty-five minutes on the phone with her grandparents, informing them they would be coming back to discuss business and go through her belongings. They would spend several days, even a week or two depending on quickly Creighton could arrange the beginning of what he jokingly called project
Kansas Kandy.
The details of the plans had been submitted to the town’s planning committee and the mayor was already planning a press release to inform everyone that
New Hope Technologies,
with the aide of Hoisington’s former head librarian, would be arriving to settle the final details for the plant that would prove beneficial to the town. In another breath, he was also planning on suggesting that he was running for a third term as mayor. It would prove to be equally beneficial for all parties involved.
So far, they had chosen the colors for the bedrooms, each with their own unique design; the romantic Victorian theme for the master suite and told Maxine to leave the bedroom closest to the master alone, they would decide on what to do with it when the time came. The truth was, the decided it would make a perfect nursery
, but they weren’t ready to make the decision of how to decorate it just yet.
The living room already had the furniture they bought the last time they were in Paris and the kitchen had been stocked with all eco-friendly appliances. Creighton’s uncle Fenton had given them the dining set from
Emma’s mother and it was ready to be placed in the room once the painting and fireplace was repaired and finished. It looked like they would indeed have a home to move into once they were ready for it.
“Is Eryn going to be there?” Sandra asked, flipping through the pages of baby designs, pretending to not be interested.
“No. I explained to Davies that we didn’t want to be overseen and there was no need for her to join us this time. It will give her a chance to be with her boyfriend anyway. They’ve been having problems and could use the time to work on their relationship.”
“I’m not surprised they are having problems; she was too eager that night you were flirting with her, even if you were using her. She’s probably getting bored, or she’s been straying.”
“What makes you think she’s the one straying?” he looked at her with an amused smile. “Quite often it’s the man who looks at other women.”
“Not the way she was looking at you.
You would have thought you were on the discount rack and she was eager to snatch you up.” Creighton laughed softly, but chose it was probably best to drop the subject.
“I read on the internet that Miriam has returned to America to finish her book tour,” Sandra said
a few minutes later.
“Andrew said they questioned her and she even agreed to a lie detector. She came clean and they took her off their suspect list.”
“I’ve been thinking about her father,” she said quietly. “I don’t think he did the murders, at least not all of them. I can see where he had the opportunity and possibly even a motive for Lynette Stone.”
“He had every opportunity to do the crimes. He was ex-military
in the German Army, which meant he had the skills and knowledge of how to kill. Look what he did to me; what’s to say he didn’t do the same to innocent, weaker women. Sometimes people have a dark side, and I’m talking about a much darker side than the one I have.”
“I think your emotions are too involved to think straight on this,” she said softly
, pushing past the thought of him having an alter ego. “I think you want him to be guilty so you can find some sense of justice for the pain he inflicted on you.”
“You think I’m out for revenge?” he asked with a frown, watching her shrug her shoulders.
“It wouldn’t be the first time a victim wanted to see their attacker found guilty of a heinous act.” Before Creighton had the chance to answer, his phone began to buzz, putting an end to the subject; at least temporarily.
Creighton pressed the button on his phone and listened to the
message, an excited smile curving the corners of his lips. He sat up on his elbow and listened intently, then hung up the phone and tossed it to the coffee table.
“
Bachmeier has been caught,” he said cheerfully watching the shocked expression cross his wife’s beautiful face.
“How?”
“Clark has been watching Miriam’s clinic through the security system and saw an intruder last night. The person wore dark clothing and had come in through a basement window, stumbling around as though he was unfamiliar with the place. With Miriam and Juliet out of the country there was no need for anyone to be there. Clark called the security team and the police got there a couple of hours later. They found him asleep in the medieval room.”
“But Miriam wasn’t there?”
“No, but she was informed of the events and who was found in her clinic. She pressed charges against him, with that, as well as leaving the country while on probation, breaking and entering at my parents’ place, carrying a weapon and the assault on the waiter, he’ll be going back to jail for a long time to come.” Creighton collapsed on the sofa beside her again, sighing contently.
“Well, your parents will be happy,” she said. “At least now your mom won’t have to worry about setting the alarm or triggering it
accidentally.” Creighton sighed, relief shinning on his face.
“I think everyone w
ill be able to sleep better now, including the neighbors. Mum said it was the first time they started locking their doors. Most of them didn’t have keys and locked themselves out of their own homes.”
“I’m glad
it’s over. Now things can settle down and we’ll be able to find a pace to call normal.”
“
We should definitely find some sense of normality from here on out; a typical British family is what we’re going to be.” Sandra sighed into him as he wrapped her closer to his chest. This was as typical as she wanted to be; in his arms, making love on a whim and relishing each other’s body. Yep, this was to be the Ashford’s new normal.
Sandra’s ears popped as the elevation increased and the jetliner ripped through the morning skies. Creighton was once again busy on his computer, finishing a number of projects and reviewing the details of the final designs of their farm.
The garage was underway, the barn had been built during the time it took for the forensic team to finish up their investigation
and the house was finished, save the décor and furnishings. The wedding presents had been delivered to the house and the news of Bachmeier’s arrest had filled the front pages of the local newspapers. Things were finally looking up for the young couple.
Sandra was feeling much better and had not had another experience of nausea or dizziness since yesterday morning. It was a relief though she was concerned; Creighton said the nausea was a good sign, what did it mean when it stopped?
“You look about five thousand miles away,” he said sitting down next to her on the large sofa. Sandra closed the pregnancy book she had been reading and set it aside, smiling up at him. For the first time in her life, she was getting tired of reading.
“I was just thinking about the future and what it held in store for us. I’ve never been consumed by so many subjects all at once before
; marriage, pregnancy, wife of a perverted stalker. I just keep wondering what else will happen before I can hang my coat in the closet for good.”
“The lunatic has been caught, the project in Kansas is about to be completed and we’ll be back in England in a few weeks, securely tucked away and preparing for our next step. Once we get home you can start your writing career and I’ll return to my husband lessons. Life will find a new path for us and we’ll walk down it together.”
“So long as I can have a rocking chair on the front porch to watch the sunset, I’ll live happily ever after.” Creighton smiled, kissing her temple.
“Andrew emailed me
again,” he said a few moments later. He felt much more comfortable talking with her about all that was happening at home then he thought he would. “He interviewed Harry Stone, but he’s refusing to take a lie detector. He claims his wife ran off with a secret lover after discovering she was pregnant. Forensics will check to see if that part of his story is true or not. Andrew confronted him about the details in Miriam’s book and the bruises she saw on Lynette’s face, but he denied knowing anything about them and said he wanted his solicitor if they had any more questions.”
“Do you think he had anything to do with her death?”
“I’m not sure,” he said, kicking his shoes off and placing his feet on the coffee table. “He’s hiding something, but it’s uncertain what. Until there are some details from the autopsies, it’s just a lot of speculations. The DNA testing is still ongoing and that will determine if he had anything to do with the murders or not.”
“It will also show if
Gerrald Bachmeier had anything to do with them as well,” she confirmed.
Creighton nodded, easing her into his arms, her head leaning on
his strong shoulder, sighing deeply. The hum of the jet engines vibrated beneath their feet, the soft rocking of the hull as it passed through the dense clouds across the Atlantic Ocean lulled them into a quiet sense of serenity.
“Did Andrew find anything else out about the other bodies?” she asked after a few minutes to consider the situation back home.
“All he has found out about them so far was that they were varied in age when they died, between late teens to mid-twenties. There is no real significance to match them, so the M.O. was not their looks or age. One was black, one blonde and two brunettes. Lynette was the oldest and the other girl that was found the same day appears to be the youngest, around fourteen or fifteen with ginger hair. Nothing matches, not the height, weight, coloring, nothing. There has to be another reason behind the murders. Maybe a school, an area or a pub they liked to frequent, something.”
“Most serial killers don’t kill just for the thrill
alone,” she added. “They like their victims to be a specific type or age. It’s odd that they were so different from each other.”
“It has Andrew and his team very confused
as well.”