Page 95 of Crosshairs

“From the top of my head down.”

“I was afraid of that.” He filled his cup. “How does your day look?”

“Church with Gran, then lunch at her house—probably should be called Sunday dinner since she has pot roast and all the fixings—then visit Cora.”

“You have a perfect excuse for missing church. Someone just tried to shoot you.”

Ainsley had thought about it, but except for the singing part of the service she looked forward to going. “I’m not going to be held prisoner.” She gave him a wry smile. “And I doubt he thinks I’ll go out in public so soon.” If he knew much about her, he wouldn’t expect her to go to church. She hadn’t been since she walked away from her singing career.

Her phone chimed with a text. “It’s Pete Nelson, letting me know there’s a police officer parked outside on the street, and he would take me to and from church if I want to go.”

“Good. I texted him I had to go to Melrose today.”

She wasn’t used to someone looking out for her. “Thanks.” Ainsley responded to Pete with a thank-you as well, then refilled her cup and held it up as she walked toward the door. “And thanks for the coffee too.”

“You’re welcome. See you at five, and we’ll call your dad unless you want to call him before then,” he said. “And don’t forget to eat something!”

She grabbed a breakfast bar and hurried to her room. Maybe eating would help her with the tinge of anxiety she had about attending the only church she’d ever gone to. She’d even sung in the choir. How many would remember she’d wanted to make singing her career?

She wouldn’t let what others thought of her keep her captiveeither. Ainsley flipped on the shower while she finished her coffee. Even though she’d showered last night, she needed the hot water on her muscles. When she stepped into the glass enclosure, she adjusted the showerhead to massage and let the jets pound her sore body, glad Cora hadn’t stuck with keeping her renovations to the antebellum time period.

A jumble of thoughts ran through her mind before settling on one. Maddox. Had he somehow slipped through the safeguards? The man was wily, and even though the chief had assured her the security people her dad hired were top-notch, he could have breached the property. The man had escaped prison after all.

49

The music was just starting when Linc slipped inside the small church and searched for Ainsley. He’d unexpectedly gotten the day off when a water main ruptured at Melrose and tours were canceled. His gaze landed on her long raven ponytail where she stood four rows from the front. No surprise there since that was the same pew where her grandmother and aunt sat every Sunday.

He didn’t like being late but was glad to be here, even dressed in his NPS uniform. Going home to change after unexpectedly getting the day off would have taken too much time, and he couldn’t wait to surprise her. At least everyone was standing so it wasn’t so hard to slip in unnoticed.

Ainsley’s eyes rounded when he stepped beside her. “I thought—”

“I’ll explain later.” He looked past her and nodded to Rose before joining in on the last stanza, expecting to hear Ainsley’s velvety smooth voice rise above those singing around them. He leaned in closer, then glanced at her lips, which were moving though no sound was coming from her. She was only mouthing the words?

The song ended, and the congregation sat down as the pianist launched into one of Ainsley’s favorites, “In the Garden,” but once again, she didn’t sing. The song ended and the worshipleader who had been at the church since Linc was in high school took center spot. But instead of starting another song, he said, “I see one of our former soloists is back with us today. I’m hoping I can persuade Ms. Ainsley Beaumont to grace us with a song.”

The congregation clapped, but beside him, Ainsley froze, the color draining from her face. Linc leaned over to encourage her and caught Rose’s plea in her eyes for him to do something. Ainsley looked as though she might pass out any second.

Once again, the worship leader prompted her, and she shook her head. Unable to bear seeing her in such distress, Linc stood. “It’s been a tough week for Ainsley. You all know Miss Cora is in the hospital,” he said. “Maybe next time.”

The man finally got it and motioned to the pianist, who broke into “His Eye Is on the Sparrow.” Linc sat down, and she slipped her hand into his as the solo began.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

The song had been Ainsley’s favorite, and the longing in her face as she listened broke his heart. By the time the song ended, Ainsley’s lips were moving silently in sync with the music.

He barely heard the pastor’s sermon, thinking instead about the fear on Ainsley’s face. Something terrible had happened to her the year she was on the road, something she’d never told him.

And it was no wonder. Their last time together, they’d argued, and he’d yelled at her, told her she was making a terrible mistake, that she had to make a choice. She did, and it hadn’t been him. She probably thought he was just waiting to say “I told you so.”Three years ago, he might have. But not now.

When they stood to sing the benediction, Ainsley slipped past him and hurried toward the door. Rose motioned for Linc to go after her.

He nodded and quickly walked to the back of the church. The officer he’d seen when he first arrived was already out the door, escorting her to his patrol car. “Ainsley,” he said just loudenough for them to hear. They both turned, and he said, “Okay if I take you home?”

She hesitated, then said something to the officer before she turned to him and nodded.

“My SUV is right over here,” he said when he reached her. “You have your vest on, right?”

“Yep.” She tapped her chest. “Brand-new one. Bought it before I left East Tennessee.”

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