all the memories behind.
His mother had signed the house over to him when she and Leonard moved from Midnight. With Josh gone from home, too, and no one looking out for the upkeep, he had figured it would be in bad shape and he had been right. But something remarkable happened. In the midst of scraping, painting, and refurbishing the small, ramshackle house where he’d grown up, Zach had somehow found what he was looking for—a home.
Staying in Midnight made absolutely no sense other than the feeling that this was where he belonged. He had been treated like garbage by many of the good citizens of Midnight, so maybe it was his own twisted sense of humor that made him stay. Or maybe it was self-punishment for the sins he had committed. Most likely it was to piss certain people off. Whatever the reason, Zach was here to stay.
Finding a job hadn’t been as big of a problem as he’d anticipated. Once his house was done to his satisfaction, he’d had a half dozen people approach him about doing work on their homes. Within a matter of months, he had a small business going with three employees and more job requests than he could accept. Though many folks still remembered the poor skinny kid that was always in trouble, Zach had no real problems until Henson’s grocery store had been broken into. And who had Chief Mosby come to question? None other than Zach Tanner, former juvenile delinquent and still number one on Henson’s shit list.
Zach had been torn between slamming his fist into Harlan Mosby’s face and busting out laughing. He’d done neither … just quietly cooperated. Two days later, the punks had been caught.
There’d been no apology from Mosby or Henson; Zach hadn’t expected one. However, Mosby’s attitude had made him wonder just how soon he’d be called in to answer questions on another crime. It’d taken exactly a week. When Mosby had no idea of a suspect, Zach became his go-to guy. Though he was usually slow to rile, a fed-up and pissed-off Zach wasn’t something most people wanted to tangle with. Ones who did lived to regret it. A very public confrontation had taken place in the middle of city hall. The results had been mixed. Many people had enjoyed watching a snarling Zach give Mosby his comeuppance. A few wanted to run Zach out of town. But Zach had gotten his desired result—the chief off his back.
Six months later, Mosby was calling it quits because of poor health and Midnight was in the market for a new police chief. The only person to step up for the job was Deputy Clark Dayton, a man who appeared poised to follow in Mosby’s crooked footsteps. Time hadn’t improved Dayton. He was still the same jerk he’d been in high school. At the urging of a few newfound friends, Zach had agreed to interview for the position. Much to everyone’s surprise, including his own, he’d gotten the job.
Odd how he felt so at home in a place that held so many bad memories.
As if it had a mind of its own, the patrol car turned onto Wildefire Lane—something it did at least twice a day. Early on, he had told himself it was because he was the police chief and therefore it was his duty to keep an eye on vacant properties that might invite vandalism and theft. Empty homes were prime targets for all sorts of crimes. But he had long stopped trying to convince himself of something he knew wasn’t true, especially since this had become a ritual long before he became police chief. No, he drove by the grand mansion for one reason only. Midnight held bad memories except for two magical months. And the woman who owned the house on Wildefire Lane had been the reason for that magic.
Ten years had passed since he’d seen her; held her in his arms, tasted her lips, heard her laughter, basked in her smile. She had gone on to fulfill her dreams. He had told her she would and he was glad to know that he’d been right. They’d been two kids who’d found what they needed at the time. Then life had interrupted in all its realistic and dirty glory.
As he came to the long drive leading to the mansion, Zach stopped the car. Even though it had stood empty since Daniel Wilde passed on, the residence was kept in perfect condition. Caretakers came weekly to