Things We Never Said (Hart's Boardwalk #3) - Samantha Young Page 0,117
myself for killing Tony, for failing Julia. I believed I didn’t deserve good things. That living an empty life was my penance.”
“Jess,” I sobbed. It was like she was inside my head, my heart. I didn’t feel alone anymore.
And then she was up and across the room. She lowered to her knees in front of me and grabbed both my hands in hers. “I put Cooper through the wringer because I was afraid to tell him what I’d done. That he would realize he deserved better than me. He made me see the truth. His love—his strength—helped me find the peace I thought I didn’t deserve. But I do deserve it.” She tugged my hands to her chest, her eyes pleading. “And it breaks my heart you don’t think you deserve it too. You do, Dahlia. The guilt won’t go away overnight, maybe not ever,” Jess whispered. “Not completely. But loving Michael, letting him love you, will make it a little easier every day. Do you know what my redemption is?”
I shook my head, unable to speak past the emotions in my throat.
“Cooper. Knowing I make him as happy as I do. That he needs me. That’s my redemption right there.” Her expression turned fierce. “I don’t believe you need to prove yourself or find redemption. But I know you think you do. So … make Michael yours.”
I slid off the chair and wrapped my arms around her, inhaling her strength, breathing it in. If Jessica Huntington-Lawson could get through such horror and come out the other side as strong as this warrior in front of me, then for God’s sake, so could I.
Instead of going into Cooper’s to question the introverted cook, Crosby, Michael wished he was going in there to drown his own sorrows. In lieu of that, he was chasing their only lead so far. Cooper had called to tell him Crosby might have seen Jackson but wasn’t one hundred percent sure and didn’t want to waste police time.
It wasn’t a waste of Michael’s time.
He was following every lead possible.
Cooper nodded to him as soon as he strode through the door. Michael could sense the bar quiet down a little and eyes were on him as Cooper lifted the bar top, came out from behind it, and gestured for him to follow into the back room.
“He’s pissed I called you,” Cooper said as he led Michael down a short hallway and into the kitchen.
Crosby made that clear from the moment he saw Michael. “I hate goddamn cops,” he blurted, shaking a metal basket of fries in the fryer.
After baring his soul to Dahlia that morning, Michael wasn’t in the mood for anyone else’s shit. “Just tell me what you saw.”
Crosby glared at Cooper. “I said I wasn’t sure.”
Michael snapped his fingers in front of Crosby’s face, his own expression severe with impatience. “Answer my question.”
“That’s why I hate cops,” Crosby grumbled. “No manners.”
“That’s funny coming from you, Crosby. Answer Detective Sullivan’s questions or I’ll send Isla in here.”
Michael didn’t know why the idea of sending one of the wait staff in here would bother the cook so much, but it did. He cursed under his breath and then glared at Michael like a petulant schoolboy. “I got a trailer over on Oak Meadows.”
Michael nodded, knowing the area well after searching all over Hartwell for Jackson.
“This morning, before dawn, I saw someone sneaking out of Willy Nettle’s old trailer.”
Michael turned to Cooper.
“He died about eight months ago,” Cooper explained. “His daughter lives in New York. She must not have gotten around to selling it.”
Jesus. Son of a bitch. Michael had been out all over the county looking for him, they had an APB out all over the East Coast for this dirty bastard, and he’d been hiding under their fuckin’ noses?
“How did I not know about this?”
Cooper grimaced at Crosby. “Please tell me you didn’t know that place was lying empty and didn’t say anything?”
His cook scowled. “If I had seen anything weird going on there, I would have said something. And we don’t know it was Freddie Jackson I saw.”
“Was the person male or female? How tall? What build?”
“It. Was. Dark,” Crosby spoke condescendingly slow.
Michael tried to hold on to his patience. “But you saw someone. You also saw how big they were.”
He shifted uncomfortably. “It was a man. But that’s all I know.”
Giving Crosby an abrupt nod, Michael turned on his heel and pulled out his cell. Jeff picked up after two rings.