“No, he. . .uh. . hurt me,” she tried to explain.
“What? Preston wouldn’t hurt a fly. Despite what happened to me and that wasn’t even his fault.”
“What?”
This was the first time Shelly had heard anything about a conflict between Sydney and Preston. She knew that they’d had a relationship in the past, but everything ended mutually to her knowledge.
“I think we need to go inside for this.”
Sydney guided them into the kitchen, where she proceeded to tell her that while she was at college, she had met Preston who was working undercover, which she was unaware of. When he was away for a long weekend, two of the mafia men had followed Preston and used her to send a message. That was when Sydney showed Shelly the long scar on her arm where the men had wanted her to bleed out. Preston had saved her in the end, and she had healed, but it took years for her emotions to get back on track.
“So what did he do to you, except keep his missions a secret? Which they are required to do, Dylan only tells me snippets to keep me from worrying.”
“It’s worse than a secret. He broke my heart.”
Chapter Eleven
Preston wasn’t sure if there was a worse death than watching the person you loved walk away from you. His SAC had called while he was closing up the office and asked if he had any clues after reading through the file, but he explained that the only connection he could find was between the young man Damon Durcett and the warehouse.
“I want you and Dylan to come and track this kid. I think he knows something or can lead us to something.”
“Sir, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. We haven’t had any luck so far. And the town needs me this weekend.”
“I’ll have you home for the weekend. I want to see you and Dylan by 8 a.m. sharp.”
“Yes, sir.”
Preston promptly called Dylan and gave him the instructions from the SAC, to which his friend claimed that this was his last mission. And Preston had to agree. He was tired of the back and forth. Now that he met Shelly, he knew he wanted to start a family or spend the remainder of his life begging for her forgiveness.
Turning off the light to his office, he locked the door and ran smack into Jackie standing from her desk.
“I was wondering when you were going to leave.”
“Jackie? I thought you had left.”
“Well, someone needed to keep an eye on you. My son went back to his frat house today anyway, so I have no one waiting for me at home.”
“Oh, I hadn’t known he was home.”
“He prefers to hang in Asheville. Well, have a good night, Sheriff,” Jackie said with a wave as she hobbled on her crutches toward the exit. He assumed she could still drive since her other foot had been the one sprained.
Before leaving, Preston turned on the dispatch line, then locked the building. It was too late for him to reach out to the veterinarian's office to board Ace, and he knew he couldn’t bring him along. His only option was to beg Shelly to let Abel watch the pup. Even if she didn’t want to hear from him, he was sure she wouldn’t let the dog suffer.
“Thank you, Shelly,” he said as he handed her the last of Ace’s toys. She had agreed on behalf of Abel then rushed to get Preston out the door. It was painful to see her. Shelly’s eyes were rimmed red and the lids puffy as if she had been crying for hours; he felt just as worse for wear. Abel must have sensed a dynamic change because the poor boy simple carried the dog back to his room without a hello or goodbye.
“I’m doing it for the dog. Just text me when you’re on your way back and I will make sure he’s ready.”
“Can I just say that I’m sorry? And I will spend however long trying to make this right with you?”
“I’m not sure a sorry will be enough. Be careful, Pre
ston.”
As she closed the door, he knew that not only was he leaving his puppy in her care, but he was also leaving his heart.
The dank warehouse reminded him of the old mildewed basements in New Orleans. His friend kept mumbling about how he wanted to spend a week at the beach to make up for the crap the FBI was putting them through.
Something didn’t feel right, though. Even with their team of six and the night vision goggles, he felt like he was being watched. They checked all of the alcoves and openings, but they couldn’t find anything. Not even the tiniest slip of paper or residue to trace for DNA.