Page 3 of Perfect Pact

Jumping off the couch, I rush to see what’s going on. Mr. Jacobs’ pill bottle and timer are sitting on the counter.

“Geez, Beth,” I mumble to myself, padding across the floor. I can’t believe I fell asleep. One minute, I was finishing up some chores, and the next, I was watching a Dateline rerun. Since I had to cut back, cable was the first to go.

I pick up the timer and reset the alarm. “Mr. Jacobs, you’re in trouble, old man.” I snag the medication and march down the hall to his room.

“Knock-knock,” I announce, tapping my nails against the cracked door. When he doesn’t say anything, I push the door open further. He’s already sound asleep. “Well, I guess you don’t need these.” I walk over to his nightstand and place his medicine box next to his water. His doctor has him taking a regimen before bed to ensure he’s comfortable and can sleep through the night.

“Thank you for tonight.” I kiss the top of his head and instantly know something isn’t right. Mr. Jacob’s sleeps with an oxygen mask to help assist with his breathing. He’s not wearing it.

Please, God, let him be okay.

I whisper his name once again.

Nothing.

“Mr. Jacobs,” I beg. “Wake up.”

Nothing.

“No—no, no, no.” I shake my head as I take a step back. “Mr. Jacobs, please don’t leave me. I’m not ready for you to go.”

Nothing.

“Oh, God.” I squeeze my eyes shut, closing off the flood of tears threatening to spill over the dam. This can’t be happening. Not now. Not today.

I pry my eyes open and gaze at a man who isfinallyresting peacefully. With a faint smile on his face, and the picture of his family he kept on his dresser mirror in his hands. He’s reunited with the love of his life and no longer in pain.

“You knew. Didn’t you?” I exhale a breath. “You tried to tell me in your own way. You tried to say goodbye. I just didn’t want to hear it.”

Tonight was more than a sunset. It was his wife calling him home. No longer does he have to count the days to when they can be together.

Knowing there’s nothing more I can do, I pull my phone out of my back pocket and collapse onto the bed as I dial nine-one-one.

“What’s your emergency?” Bess, Mason Creek’s emergency dispatcher, answers.

“It’s Buck Jacobs. He’s passed away at his home.”

“Beth, is that you, sweetie?”

I nod, unable to speak.

“Are you still there? Talk to me.”

“I am.” My body trembles as I choke back the tears threatening to fall.

“Someone will be right out. Okay, sweetheart? Just go outside and wait for them there.”

“Okay. Thank you, Bess.” I end the call, but I don’t go outside. I’m not leaving the man who not only gave me a chance, but gave me hope.

“I’m sure going to miss our talks, this farm, the sunsets.” I place my hand over his. “I’m going to miss you, Buck. I love you.”

I smile. He’s probably up there pitching a fit to his wife that I finally called him by his first name.

“Beth?” Wyatt Murphy comes strolling into the bedroom. Not in his police uniform, but in jeans and a white T-shirt.

“Why are you here?” I don’t mean to come across as rude, but I’m not ready to let him go.

“There was a boating accident on the lake. All units are there.” He scans the room. “I was on my way out there when the call came over the radio, so I took a little detour.”

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