Kitabı oku: «Colton's Deep Cover», sayfa 3

Fishing her keys out of her purse, she locked the car and headed for the back entrance of the building. Her apartment was on the second floor, but the building didn’t have an elevator so she had to climb the rickety wooden stairs, which squeaked beneath her boots.

When she reached her apartment, the door swung open before she could even turn the key.

She winced. The latch on the door had been loose since she’d moved in, but she hadn’t gotten around to fixing it yet. Besides, after three weeks in Eden Falls, she’d discovered that hardly anyone locked their doors around here. The crime rate in town was zero—or at least it had been until those Amish girls had begun disappearing.

Entering her apartment, Chloe made a mental note to get the doorknob fixed tomorrow. After the attempted kidnapping of Violet Chastain, she really needed to take better precautions.

Right, because a scarred, middle-aged woman is a mighty draw for a sex ring.

Fine, so the sick perverts snatching up those innocent girls probably wouldn’t take a second look at Chloe Moreno aka Amelia Phillips. But that didn’t mean she shouldn’t be more careful.

After she removed her outerwear and tossed her purse on the plaid-upholstered couch she’d purchased from the sole furniture store in town, she ducked into her small kitchen and brewed herself a cup of tea. She still had that bookshelf to assemble, but at the moment she wanted nothing more than to sit on the sofa, watch the ten o’clock news and clear her head.

Heading back to the living room, she set her tea on the square glass coffee table, then settled on the couch. She drew a flannel blanket around her legs and flicked the remote control.

The second the screen came to life, sound blared from the television speakers.

“I, Chloe, take you, Felix, to be my lawfully wedded husband.”

Horror slammed into Chloe’s chest with the force of a sledgehammer.

Her eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets as she stared at her younger self on the television screen. Clad in an elaborate lace gown with a scoop neckline and full skirt, twenty-nine-year-old Chloe gazed up at her dark-haired husband-to-be with pure adoration. A white-robed priest stood before the happy couple with a leather prayer book in his hands. In the background, the soft strains of violins could be heard.

Her wedding. Dear God, this was her wedding video.

The video she’d left behind when she fled Malibu.

“I, Felix Moreno, take you, Chloe, to be my …”

Chloe leaped off the couch as if she’d discovered a cockroach in her lap. But no, this was worse than a cockroach. Far more terrifying than her irrational fear of insects.

He was here.

Felix was here.

Panic torpedoed through her. Acid burned her throat, making it impossible to breathe. She sucked in shallow breaths, her body trembling so violently she keeled over, sagging against the arm of the couch for balance. Her wild gaze landed on the DVD player, which was whirring away, the seconds ticking off on the display.

She stood there frozen for several long seconds, then she burst into action, grabbing the first object she saw—a heavy glass paperweight sitting on the coffee table.

Swallowing her fear, Chloe crept toward the narrow hallway leading to her bedroom. As she approached the closed door, her heart thudded against her ribs and her lungs ached, prompting her to take a deep breath.

Call the cops, a little voice ordered.

She faltered in front of the bedroom. If her husband truly was behind that door, she had no chance of fighting him off. Felix was bigger than her, and his anger had always given him an inhuman amount of strength.

She had to call the police, then run out of the apartment and wait until the cops showed up to apprehend Felix.

But what if Felix wasn’t here? What if she called for help and then had to explain to the responding officer why a simple DVD posed such a monumental threat to her? She’d have to confess to the police who she really was, and the news would then find its way to Felix. She’d pretty much be announcing to her husband that she was still alive.

When her palms started tingling and black dots danced in front of her eyes, she realized she’d forgotten to breathe again. Sucking oxygen into her lungs, she straightened her shoulders and tightened her grip on the paperweight. She couldn’t risk calling the cops. Technically, no crime had even been committed—her door had been unlatched and nothing had been stolen as far as she knew.

Gathering her courage, she reached for the doorknob and turned it ever so slowly. Then she braced herself, half expecting Felix to burst out and grab her.

But nothing happened.

She pushed the door open, lifted the arm holding the paperweight and burst into the bedroom.

Empty.

The room was empty. And the closet door was wide-open, revealing more empty space because she still hadn’t gotten around to hanging any of her clothes.

Relief skyrocketed through her. Taking another breath, she ducked out of the room and repeated the same process with the little bathroom across the hall.

Empty.

Chloe’s shoulders relaxed, but tension continued to seize her muscles. Soft voices wafted through the apartment, followed by a burst of applause as the guests who’d attended her wedding cheered for the happy couple.

Feeling as if she’d just had the wind knocked out of her, Chloe trudged back to the living room and sank onto the couch. Her gaze fixed on the screen, on the broad smile gracing young Chloe’s eyes as she walked down the aisle arm-in-arm with her new husband.

Only two copies of that wedding video existed. One sat on the shelf of her father’s room at the nursing home in St. Louis, and she doubted Martin Hathaway even knew it was there and doubted even more that he’d suddenly regained his mental capacity, tracked her down to Eden Falls and left the video in her DVD player.

The other copy? Sitting in the entertainment system in the grand living room of her and Felix’s beachfront mansion.

“He found me,” she whispered, the agony-laced words echoing in the suddenly cold air of her apartment.

Chapter 3

“Amelia, I still need that file.” A pause. “Amelia?” Another pause. “Amelia.”

Chloe’s hand snapped up at the sharp command. She turned to see Derek in the doorway of the filing room, his brown eyes flickering with annoyance. “What?” she asked absently.

“Stu Robertson’s file,” Derek repeated, sounding aggravated. “He’ll be here any minute. He rescheduled his appointment, remember?”

“Oh, right, right. Sorry.”

She darted toward the cabinet that housed the N-R files and flipped through the tabs until she found Stu Robertson’s name. Her cheeks scorched with the heat of embarrassment as she handed Derek the folder.

Rather than leave the room, Derek tucked the file under one arm and eyed her warily. “Are you all right? You’ve been acting strange all morning.”

No, I’m not all right! My psychotic husband left our wedding video in my apartment last night and I’m freaking out!

She bit back the words, deciding she didn’t particularly feel like getting fired today. But she also didn’t blame Derek for looking irritated. She’d been distracted from the moment she opened her eyes this morning. Well, that was not entirely true, considering she’d never gone to sleep in the first place. She’d spent the night tossing and turning in bed, clutching the paperweight and trying to convince her panic-ridden brain that if Felix planned on murdering her, he would’ve done it when she walked through the door hours before.

But no amount of convincing could make her believe that anyone other than Felix had left that horrific surprise for her.

Her husband knew she was alive. There was no other explanation for what happened last night, and although she didn’t know why Felix hadn’t just confronted her outright, the sick souvenir didn’t really surprise her. Toying with people was Felix’s favorite pastime. The man was a psychopath hiding behind a white coat and a prestigious reputation, and she knew better than anyone just how much he liked playing games.

“Amelia?”

Damn it. She’d spaced out. Again.

“I’m so sorry, Derek,” she blurted, a streak of guilt soaring through her. “I’ve been a real pain in the ass today, haven’t I?”

“I wouldn’t put it quite that way, but … yeah.” He offered a sheepish grin. “What’s going on?”

“I didn’t sleep well last night,” she admitted. “I didn’t sleep at all, actually.”

He frowned, switching into doctor mode. “Are you prone to insomnia?”

“Not usually. It was just a fluke, I guess.” She smiled. “Maybe it was the excitement of being offered a permanent position here.”

He smiled back, and for the first time all morning she relaxed. Derek Colton’s bone-melting smiles always had that effect on her. “I don’t see how working for a small-town doctor could be very exciting, but thanks for the ego boost.”

“Dr. Colton?” came Nancy’s voice. “Stu Robertson is here.”

Derek glanced over his shoulder at his receptionist. “Put him in exam room two, Nancy.”

Chloe frowned. “Hey, that’s my job, remember?”

“No,” he corrected. “Right now, your job is to grab a cup of coffee and unwind for an hour or so. Maybe the caffeine will wake you up.”

Guilt prickled her skin. Wonderful. Her first day as a permanent fixture in the clinic, and she was being ordered to wake up.

Derek must have glimpsed the objection in her eyes because he chuckled. “I can handle Stu. He’s only here to get a prescription for his arthritis medication. Go, Amelia. Drink some coffee, breathe some fresh air and come back when you’re ready.”

He strolled off before she could argue.

Chloe stared after him in dismay, feeling even guiltier when she heard Derek greet Stu Robertson in that deep, congenial voice of his. The clinic’s appointment calendar was booked solid today, and instead of doing her job, she’d been so distracted that Derek had sent her away.

But she knew he’d made a good call. She’d be of no use to Derek or their patients if her brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders.

Ducking into the small office where she stored her things, Chloe grabbed her coat and purse, then exited the clinic through the back door. Derek was right—the second she breathed in the crisp December air, she felt more alert. In a brisk pace, she walked to the café at the end of the block and ordered a large coffee, then sat on one of the tall-backed stools in front of the window that overlooked the quaint street.

Clasping her hands over the cardboard sleeve of her coffee cup, Chloe attempted to formulate a plan. She’d already replaced her loose door handle this morning; she’d been out the door at eight o’clock and waiting outside the hardware store when the owner opened up shop for the day. She hadn’t been scheduled to work until nine, so she’d hurried home and installed the new handle, along with two shiny new dead bolts and a chain lock.

With that out of the way, she now had to—

Have to what? an incredulous voice demanded. Now you leave town, Chloe!

Her coffee cup froze before reaching her lips. Hands trembling, she set the foam cup on the counter and stared miserably out at the street.

Of course she had to leave town. What the hell other solution was there?

Felix clearly knew where she was—the little gift he’d left her last night proved it. And although Felix might be toying with her now, he wouldn’t play the game forever. Eventually he would confront her.

He’ll kill you.

Or worse, she thought with growing terror. She’d never imagined there could be anything worse than death, but Felix Moreno had shown her otherwise. She lifted her hand to her cheek, but even the scar was small potatoes compared to what Felix was capable of doing.

She couldn’t risk staying in Eden Falls. If she stayed, she wouldn’t just be placing her own life in jeopardy, but the lives of those around her.

Derek.

Her heart lurched at the thought. Felix wouldn’t hesitate to hurt Derek, especially if he knew she’d gone to the Coltons’ ranch for dinner yesterday evening. Her husband’s jealous streak was vicious, and she already knew he didn’t toss out empty threats.

“Something wrong with the coffee?”

Chloe shifted her head to see the barista behind the counter eyeing her warily. “No, it’s fine.”

“Oh. Because you’ve been sitting there for ten minutes and still haven’t taken a single sip.”

Ten minutes?

She hadn’t realized she’d zoned out for that long. Sure enough, when she lifted her cup to her lips, the coffee she swallowed had grown lukewarm. But the caffeine managed to do its thing, kick-starting her brain and making her see that her best option—her only option—was to leave Eden Falls as soon as possible.

With a heavy heart, she slid off the stool and left the café, tossing her half-full cup into the trash can on the sidewalk. Her gaze landed on the quaint brick building at the end of the block, the clinic where she’d finally found a sense of purpose and belonging. The thought of giving up her job was pure torture.

So was the notion of never seeing Derek again.

She hadn’t realized how much she’d come to like and respect him these past three weeks. How much she looked forward to seeing that gorgeous face of his every day, watching those capable hands tending to the patients who adored him.

Swallowing a lump of sorrow, Chloe returned to the clinic just as Stu Robertson was leaving. She smiled at the elderly man, then turned to Derek, who was bent over the reception desk murmuring something to Nancy. His white coat stretched over his broad back and shoulders, and she caught a glimpse of his handsome profile, those firm lips, that strong jaw, his proud forehead.

She fought a jolt of desire and a twinge of regret, wishing things could be different. That she could be the kind of woman that a man like Derek could fall in love with.

As if sensing her eyes on him, Derek turned, a half-smile lifting his lips. “Feeling better?” he asked.

At least stay for the rest of the day. You can’t leave him in the lurch.

Chloe ignored the inner plea, knowing that if she was going to quit, leaving Derek in the lurch was exactly the way to do it. If she left in the most unprofessional, distasteful manner, then the chances of him tracking her down and begging her to stay would be nonexistent.

So rather than smiling back, she slowly shook her head in response to Derek’s question.

His expression instantly sobered. “What’s going on?”

She crossed the room on shaky legs, cast Nancy a discreet look, then met Derek’s brown eyes. “Can we talk in your office for a moment?”

Amelia had quit.

She’d quit.

Derek still couldn’t wrap his head around it.

After his nurse had pretty much sprinted out the door as if a psycho killer was chasing her, he’d desperately wanted to run after her, but he couldn’t just walk away when he had a waiting room full of patients expecting to see him. For the first time in his life, he found himself cursing his success. A booming practice was every doctor’s dream, but today, the endless string of appointments had become Derek’s worst nightmare. All he wanted to do was find Amelia and try to make sense of what had happened. Instead, he’d forced himself to go about his day—seeing patients and updating charts—all the while fighting the urge to kick something.

Only yesterday she’d been thrilled to accept a permanent position. What the hell had changed?

I made a mistake.

Small-town life isn’t for me, after all.

Her feeble excuses continued to flash through his head, burning a hole in his gut, which roiled with anger and frustration.

“Will you excuse me for a second?” Derek said, cutting Rita Vernon off midsentence.

The elderly patient wrinkled her nose. “Is something wrong?” She paled. “Do my symptoms sound serious?”

“No, no,” he said quickly.

“High cholesterol? Anemia? Oh, God—please don’t say cancer!”

Derek inwardly cursed Amelia for leaving him in the lurch like this. Mrs. Vernon was a bona fide hypochondriac who showed up at the clinic nearly every other day, but Amelia had had a soothing effect on the woman the last time she’d come in, which had made Derek’s job a helluva lot easier. Now he was on his own, and as he fielded Mrs. Vernon’s panicked questions, his frustration levels skyrocketed.

“Mrs. Vernon, I’m fairly certain that you are of absolute perfect health. I just need to excuse myself so I can grab your file, okay?”

Because he’d forgotten to bring it into the exam room with him. Because that was Amelia’s damn job.

Mrs. Vernon relaxed. “Oh. All right.”

As Derek slid out the door and headed for the file room, he pulled his cell phone from the breast pocket of his coat and dialed his brother’s number.

Tate picked up on the second ring. “Hey, Doc, what’s up?”

“I need a favor.”

“Hit me.”

Balancing the phone on his shoulder, Derek yanked open the file cabinet. “Amelia just quit,” he muttered. “Can you—”

“She quit?” Tate interrupted. “Why the hell did she do that?”

“Apparently St. Joseph’s in Philly made her a better offer.” Bitterness lodged in his throat like a wad of gum. “And she also gave me some bull about not being suited for small-town life.”

There was a beat of silence. “Did you really just curse? Wow. You must be pissed beyond belief.”

Derek grabbed the Vernon file and stalked to the door. “Look, I need you to find out more about this St. Joseph’s job. See if you can figure out how much they offered her—if it’s a money thing, I might be able to match it.”

Tate’s whistle echoed in his ear. “You really want her, huh?”

Derek stiffened.

“As a nurse,” Tate added, amusement ringing in his voice. “You must really want her as your nurse.”

Derek neared the exam room. “I’m about to see a patient. Can you help or not, Tate?”

“I’m on it. I’ll get back to you.”

Derek disconnected the call and returned to Mrs. Vernon, spending the next twenty minutes reassuring her that she wasn’t dying of any sort of conceivable disease. By the time he ushered her out of the room, he was ready to tear his hair out. Despite the packed waiting room, he told Nancy to give him a few minutes before sending in the next patient.

He stalked into his office, shut the door and let out a string of curses that no doubt would’ve stunned everyone in his family speechless.

Pacing the office, he thought of Amelia’s agitated hazel eyes, the way she’d wrung her hands together and avoided his gaze. Then he remembered the way her entire face had lit up yesterday when he’d offered her a permanent position. How did a person go from happy to distressed in less than twenty-four hours?

Ask Tess.

Derek halted midstep. A jolt of pain shot through him as the memory of his wife surfaced, followed by a lump of bitterness that rose in his throat. Yeah, he knew all about irrational behavior, didn’t he? The mood swings, the tears, the desperation. Tess’s illness had destroyed their marriage—no matter how badly he’d wanted to be there for her, he hadn’t been able to help the woman he loved.

Ignoring the painful throbbing in his chest, Derek took a deep breath and tried to clear his head. Christ. He couldn’t hide out in his office thinking about Tess and Amelia. He had a responsibility to his patients and at the moment, that was all he could afford to concentrate on.

Several hours later, Derek bid goodbye to his last patient of the day, sent Nancy home and marched back to his office. He kept a change of clothes in a small cabinet by the door, and he shrugged out of his jacket as he headed for it. He ditched his scrubs and put on trousers and a cable-knit sweater, then shoved his feet into a pair of leather wing tips.

His cell phone rang just as he finished dressing. A glance at the caller ID revealed Tate’s number. Finally.

“What’d you find out?” Derek asked in lieu of a greeting.

“Come outside and I’ll tell you myself.”

He wrinkled his forehead. “Why are you outside?”

“Because we’ve got Sawyer’s parent-teacher thing in twenty minutes.” Tate chuckled. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

Busted.

Derek couldn’t believe the conference had slipped his mind—he was normally on top of stuff like that. But Amelia’s sudden departure had sent his mind reeling.

Damn. He’d been planning on heading straight to her apartment once he’d cleared his schedule, but Tate had thrown a wrench in that plan.

“I’ll be out in a sec,” he said as he grabbed the wool coat draped over the back of his desk chair.

Tate was waiting on the sidewalk in front of the clinic when Derek strode outside. After locking up and setting the alarm, Derek turned to his brother with an expectant look. “So? Did you get the information?”

Tate scrubbed a hand through his light brown hair. “Yeah, I did.”

“What did St. Joseph’s offer her?”

“Nothing.”

Derek frowned. “What do you mean, nothing?”

“I mean, the human resources department at the hospital has never heard of Amelia Phillips. She never submitted a résumé, and she certainly didn’t receive any job offers from them in the past twenty-four hours.”

“You’re certain of this?”

Tate nodded.

A fresh wave of frustration crashed into him. What the hell? Amelia had lied to him.

But why?

And if there was no offer from St. Joseph’s, then what had spurred her to up and quit?

He shook his head. “I need to see her. Do you mind going to the school on your own?”

“No way, Doc.” Tate’s voice was firm. “We might all be Sawyer and Piper’s guardians, but you’re the one they look to as a father figure. And you’re the one who stays on top of the school stuff. I need you there, bro.”

Derek suppressed his annoyance. As much as he loved Tate, Gunnar and Emma, he sometimes felt as if they’d left him holding the bag after their parents died. Gunnar had enlisted in the military and disappeared for more than a decade, and although Tate and Emma had stuck around, they’d been more focused on their careers than their little siblings. And sure, their jobs in law enforcement were demanding, but so was Derek’s practice. Why was he expected to juggle his work with the responsibility of raising two kids?

He’d never voice the complaint, though. He’d come to accept the reality of his situation—he was Derek, the responsible rock of the Colton family, the healer and protector, the man who always did the right thing, who always put others first. But sometimes he wished his siblings would step up and shoulder some of the burden. A man could bear only so much weight before he broke.

Sighing, he fished his car keys from his coat pocket. “We’ll take separate cars. I want to head over to Amelia’s the second the meeting ends.”

Ten minutes later, he and Tate reconvened in the parking lot of Eden Falls Middle School. They entered the school through the back doors, their shoes squeaking against the linoleum floor as they made their way toward Sawyer’s homeroom.

“So you’re really riled up about Amelia,” Tate remarked.

“She’s a good nurse,” he replied in a terse voice.

His brother’s answering silence lasted far too long for his liking. “What?” Derek said defensively. “Say what’s on your mind, Tate.”

Tate lifted his shoulders in a nonchalant pose. “Seems to me you’re into more than her nursing abilities. You invited her to dinner—”

“Sawyer invited her,” he cut in.

“And the private ranch tour? That was all you, Doc. You wanted to be alone with her.”

He found himself unusually flustered. “That woman is damn secretive. I just wanted to get some answers.”

As they approached Sawyer’s classroom, Tate grabbed Derek’s arm and forced him to stop. “It’s okay to admit you like her,” Tate said in quiet voice. “Tess has been gone for two years. It’s about time you started to show interest in a woman.”

Discomfort wrapped around his spine like strands of ivy. Tate was wrong. He didn’t like Amelia, not in a romantic way, at least. He respected her. Appreciated her skills. Enjoyed her company.

Lusted over her gorgeous face and curvy body….

Shock spiraled through him. Holy crap. He did like her.

He shifted his gaze and noticed the barely restrained grin on his brother’s face. “Just figuring it out now, huh?”

Derek promptly averted his eyes and took off in a brisk walk again. They reached Sawyer’s classroom, but when he poked his head into the room, he saw that Sharon Bentley, Sawyer’s teacher, hadn’t wrapped up her current conference. She held up one hand to signal she’d be another five minutes.

Derek nodded in response, then stepped back into the hall and gestured to the wooden bench lining the wall. He and Tate sat, their big bodies awkwardly positioned on the kid-size bench. Both stood at six feet, and the bench was so low to the ground it was as if they were sitting on the floor.

“Anyway, about this Amelia thing,” Tate continued.

“I can’t talk about that right now. I … I can’t.” He let out a breath. “Tell me what’s happening with the investigation.”

Tate’s expression hardened. “The sting operation is going down next week.”

“So your informant came through?”

“Yeah, Miller’s giving us the locations where the girls are being held. My supervisor has me posing as a buyer—I’m a rich New York businessman looking to buy myself a sex slave.” A combination of revulsion and rage dripped from Tate’s tone.

Derek felt pretty sick himself, and he was totally feeling his brother’s rage, too. It horrified him to think that innocent girls were being sold off in a sex ring as if they were cattle. Both Tate and Emma were working overtime to crack this online ring wide open, and the coordinated efforts of the FBI and the Pennsylvania and Ohio PDs were finally paying off, especially now that Solomon Miller, a minor player in the ring, was working as an informant to help law enforcement nab the ringleaders.

“Gunnar’s underwriting the op,” Tate added, “so that’ll make it easier to play the part of Richie Rich without costing the taxpayers a dime.”

“What exactly does this sting op entail?” Derek asked.

“I’m going to inspect the wares,” Tate said in distaste. “As a buyer, I have the option to take a closer look at the girls before I commit to purchasing one.”

Bile coated Derek’s throat. “What happens if one of those girls is Hannah Troyer? Or Mary Yoder? Will your team swoop in and rescue them?”

To his shock, Tate shook his head. “Not during that first meeting.”

“Jesus, Tate, why the hell not? You’re just going to leave those girls at the hands of those sadistic bastards?”

“Our goal is to nail these sons of bitches to the wall,” Tate said grimly. “Which means bringing down the ringleader and wiping out the entire ring. If we tip our hand now, the bastard will just close up shop or move the operation to some other state. We will rescue those girls, but not until the time is right.”

“Dr. Colton? Detective Colton?”

Ms. Bentley’s voice put an end to the conversation. Both men stood up as their brother’s teacher appeared in front of them. “You can come in now,” she said with a smile.

Before Derek could take a step, his phone went off. With an apologetic look, he fished out the phone. Although he was done for the day, he remained on call in the evenings.

“Give me a second,” he said, gesturing for Tate to go with Sawyer’s teacher.

Derek glanced at the caller ID and frowned when he saw the unknown number. He hoped this wasn’t about Clara Watson—the woman had been having some complications with her latest pregnancy, and he’d already made three house calls to her in the past month, each time expecting the worst. He’d ordered her on bed rest, but he knew damn well that patients didn’t always follow their doctor’s orders.

“Dr. Colton,” he barked as he flipped open the cell phone.

“Derek!”

His shoulders stiffened when Amelia’s anguished voice sliced through the line.

“Amelia?” he said warily. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, God, I … I … Can you come over?”

The terror in her tone was unmistakable and Derek’s entire body went cold. “Are you okay?” he demanded. “Are you hurt?”

“Yes … no … please. Please, I need you.”

“I’ll be right there.”

He hung up without another word, sprinted into the classroom and sought his brother’s gaze. “I have to go,” Derek said flatly.

Tate took one look at his face and paled. “Is it Sawyer? Piper?” He started to get up.

“They’re fine,” Derek said quickly. “It’s a patient.” He glanced at Ms. Bentley. “I apologize, Sharon, but I’m afraid you’ll have to hold this conference without me.”

Without letting either of them reply, Derek dashed out of the room. His heartbeat hammered out a frantic rhythm as he raced out of the school and hurried toward his car. He’d never heard Amelia sound like that. Panicked, shrill, frightened. His mind suddenly flashed to Tess, to the agitated voice mail she’d left him before she’d driven her car off that bridge.

His heart pounded even harder.

As he started the car and sped out of the parking lot, he prayed that Amelia was okay.

And that this time he wouldn’t be too late.