The Last Straw, page 1
Praise for the novels of Sharon Sala
“Drama literally invades the life of an A-list Hollywood star, and the race is on to catch a killer.”
—RT Book Reviews on Life of Lies
“A wonderful romance, thriller, and delightful book. [I] recommend this book as highly as I can.... Exciting...and will keep you glued to the pages until you reach the end.”
—USATODAY.com’s Happy Ever After blog on Life of Lies
“In Sala’s latest page-turner, staying alive is the biggest challenge of all. There are appealing characters to root for, and one slimy villain who needs to be stopped.”
—RT Book Reviews on Race Against Time
“[An] emotional thriller, packed with action, love, regrets, and criminal activity that will make your blood boil.... A phenomenal story.”
—FreshFiction.com on Race Against Time
“The Youngblood family is a force to be reckoned with.... Watching this family gather around and protect its own is an uplifting tribute to familial love.”
—RT Book Reviews on Family Sins
“A soul-wrenching story of love, heartache, and murder that is practically impossible to put down.... If you love emotional tales of love, family, and justice, then look no further... Sharon Sala has yet another winner on her hands.”
—FreshFiction.com on Family Sins
Also by Sharon Sala
The Jigsaw Files
BLIND FAITH
SECOND SIGHT
THE MISSING PIECE
Secrets and Lies
DARK HEARTS
COLD HEARTS
WILD HEARTS
Forces of Nature
GOING GONE
GOING TWICE
GOING ONCE
The Rebel Ridge novels
’TIL DEATH
DON’T CRY FOR ME
NEXT OF KIN
The Searchers
BLOOD TRAILS
BLOOD STAINS
BLOOD TIES
The Storm Front trilogy
SWEPT ASIDE
TORN APART
BLOWN AWAY
THE WARRIOR
BAD PENNY
THE HEALER
CUT THROAT
NINE LIVES
THE CHOSEN
MISSING
WHIPPOORWILL
ON THE EDGE
“Capsized”
DARK WATER
OUT OF THE DARK
SNOWFALL
BUTTERFLY
REMEMBER ME
REUNION
SWEET BABY
DARK WATER RISING
IN SHADOWS
LIFE OF LIES
RACE AGAINST TIME
FAMILY SINS
Originally published
as Dinah McCall
THE RETURN
SHARON SALA
THE LAST STRAW
Love is the only emotion we have that can grow exponentially, spread faster than the speed of light and never die.
I dedicate this book to the people who love and aren’t afraid to show it.
To the love I lost, and to the bright spirit he is now, who still waits for me to follow.
This book is for Bobby.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Epilogue
One
After ten days of nonstop work at Addison-Tunnell Ad Agency, twenty-nine-year-old executive Rachel Dean was finally on her way home. The presentation was finished and ready to present tomorrow.
It was just after 7 p.m., and thanks to traffic on the Dallas Beltway, it took almost forty-five minutes to reach the historic district where she lived. The apartment she rented was in an old mansion called the Detter House. It had been renovated into apartments by the present owner about twenty years ago, and rare openings in the residence were a hot leasing commodity.
The two-story wings on either side of the midsection were now all apartments. The midsection had been turned into a communal lobby on the first floor with big-screen televisions, and the second floor was the central elevator system that led to both north and south wings.
There was a full basement beneath the central part, and the grounds surrounding it provided covered parking for the residents, a pool and an area for outdoor entertaining.
Rachel loved living here, and breathed a sigh of relief when the grand edifice appeared in her view. She took the turn up the drive and then drove around back to her covered parking space. Living alone for as long as she had, Rachel had a tendency to talk to herself, which was evident when she grabbed her purse and briefcase to exit the car.
“Oh, my Lord...my feet are killing me. I have never been so glad to get home.”
She waved to some of the residents who were outside grilling by the heated pool as she passed.
“Come join us!” one man called.
“Another time,” Rachel said. “I’m bushed!”
He gave her a thumbs-up, then turned back to the grill.
The grilling meat smelled good, but all she wanted was a shower, a bowl of soup and to kick back and put up her feet.
She took the elevator to the second floor, then down the hall to her apartment in the north wing. It was habit to lock the door behind her as she went in, and habit that she left her purse on the hall table and her briefcase on the floor beside it, before heading to the bedroom to change.
The floors were shining, and the woodwork dusted. Today had been the day the cleaning service came, and the scent of lemon oil and lilac followed her from room to room. Lilac was her latest choice of air freshener, and a subtle hint that they were also her favorite flower.
She stripped off her clothes, changing into old blue jeans and a long-sleeved Dallas Cowboys sweatshirt. She traded her high heels for socks and tennis shoes, then picked up the clothes she’d just removed, along with what was in her hamper, and took them to the laundry and started the load to wash.
The washer was filling with water as she went to the pantry to get a can of chicken noodle soup. She thought about making herself a sandwich, as she poured the soup into a bowl to heat, but opted for cheese and crackers to go with it instead.
She was waiting for the microwave to stop when she began hearing faint strains of music. It sounded like the cookout at the pool was turning into a party. She knew she’d be welcome if she joined them, but the thought of getting back into party clothes was too much, and despite the heated pool, the evenings were getting too cool now for her to enjoy a swim.
The microwave dinged as she was taking her plate of cheese and crackers to the table. She turned on the iPad she’d left there this morning, and then made herself something to drink. As she stepped back to the microwave to get her soup, she caught a glimpse of her own reflection.
Her features were a bit muddled, but the basic outline of her short dark curls and pug nose was obvious. She wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous, but she liked who she was, and that was enough. When she lifted the hot soup from the microwave, the scent made her stomach growl as she carried it to the table.
She reached for the iPad, pulled up the book she’d been reading, then tested the heat of the soup before she took her first bite. The warmth of the soup, and the homey taste of the noodles, were reminders of her childhood. She ate with relish, wishing her older sister, Millie, who still lived in their hometown of Tulsa, Oklahoma, were with her, and then got lost in the story as she ate.
She was about halfway through her meal when she heard the sound of laughter coming from the back of her apartment. It sounded like it was in her bedroom, which made no sense, because she lived alone.
Frowning, she put down her spoon and got up to investigate. There was no hesitation or fear as she walked into her bedroom. But she was surprised that her television was on.
“What in the world?” she muttered, and began looking around for the remote to turn it off.
When she finally spied it on the shelf below the television, instead of the bedside table where she always kept it, she assumed the cleaning crew had moved it, but it still didn’t explain why it had suddenly turned on.
Focused solely on getting to the remote, she didn’t hear the soft sound of a footfall behind her. Then the stabbing pain at the nape of her neck was shocking, and caught her unawares. She screamed, thinking something had just stung her, and was reaching for the back of her neck when the room began to spin, and then everything went black.
* * *
It was five minutes to 4 a.m. when Charlie Dodge’s cell phone signaled a text. He rolled over in bed, saw the time and groaned. Who would be texting him at this time of the morning?
Then he saw it was from Wyrick.
“What the hell?” he muttered, then threw back the covers and sat up on the side of the bed as he pulled up the message.
Stay off the beltway this morning. There’s going to be a massive pileup.
“What the hell, again?” he muttered.
Frustrated and sleepy, he forgot he was only wearing gym shorts as he got up and strode across the hall to her bedroom, then pounded on the door.
There was a long moment of silence, and then he pounded again, and got a very cranky response.
“Are you bleeding?”
He rolled his eyes. “No.”
The tone of her voice had not softened. “Then what the hell? It’s 4 a.m.”
“Why, yes, it is. So why are you sending me random texts at this hour?” he shouted.
There was another, even longer moment of silence, and then the door swung inward, and Wyrick was standing in the shadows wearing pink flannel pajamas with little white lambs on them—a complete dichotomy to the red-and-black dragon tattoo beneath.
He’d seen her in those pajamas before, and was always surprised by how vulnerable she looked without the war paint she wore in public.
As for Wyrick, she’d seen Charlie’s bare chest, hard abs and long bare legs before, and was still struggling to pull out of the nightmare she’d been having when he knocked.
“I didn’t send you a text!” she snapped.
Charlie shoved the phone in her face.
She turned on the light and then looked at the phone, and as she did, the color faded from her face. That was when he realized she was as startled by the text as he’d been.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She turned around and went to get her phone off the charger, then brought it back to the door, pulled up his number with their message history and handed it to him.
“Look for yourself. The last text I sent to you was yesterday...from the office...telling you what I wanted for lunch.”
Charlie frowned. “But this is plainly from you. So unless someone has hacked you, this doesn’t make sense.”
“It’s impossible to hack me. I need to sit down,” she said, and dropped onto the side of her bed.
Charlie followed, and sat down beside her, waiting in silence.
Finally, she took a deep breath and started talking.
“I can’t believe this happened. I was dreaming this. It was a thought in my dream. Not an awake thought. A dream thought. I am going to have to think about this a bit, but the bottom line is, I think I just bypassed the need to use a phone to send you messages.”
In that moment Charlie felt the world shift beneath his feet. He didn’t know what to say, but he’d long since given up being shocked by her growing abilities.
“Leave it to you to find a way to beat a monthly phone bill,” he muttered. “So is this text true? About the imminent crash?”
She nodded.
“Is there any way we could notify someone to prevent it?”
A muscle jerked in the side of her jaw.
“No. It is what it is,” she said.
“Then we take backstreets to work. Thanks for the heads-up. I’m going to shower.”
“It’s too early to go to work,” Wyrick said.
“Agreed. But sleep is impossible now, so I’m still gonna shower,” Charlie said, and left her sitting.
When he got back to his room, he shut the door between them and headed for the bathroom. Later, as he was rinsing the shampoo from his hair, he kept thinking of her—and of him—and how their lives had changed in the past few months.
Universal Theorem was responsible for all she was. But they’d become so threatened by her existence, that they’d tried to kill her. And after losing his wife, Annie, there was nothing to tie him to his previous lifestyle, which was why he was in residence at the estate where she now lived.
He owed his life to Wyrick. She was a warrior. She backed down from no one. But it appeared she’d just shocked herself. She was still evolving, and this time she’d projected the energy to create a text message and send it, while she was asleep. Freaky weird, but cool as hell. If this was the way this day was going to begin, he could only imagine what the rest of it would be like.
Unfortunately, Wyrick wasn’t as unaffected by this as Charlie seemed to be. She was still sitting on her bed, trying to come to terms with the shock of what she’d just done.
She had stunned herself. The ramifications of being able to send a text message with her mind wasn’t something she would have ever believed possible, and yet, she’d done it.
She scrubbed her face with her hands, as if trying to wipe away the reality of who she was, then got up and walked into her bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror.
I am such a freak. If I had hair, I’d be pulling it. The upside of that is, if I start growing horns, they’ll be easy to see.
Then she turned away from her own reflection and followed Charlie’s lead, stripped, tossed her pajamas in the laundry and got into the shower.
The heat of the pounding water eased the tension in her shoulders, and slowly, she began to relax. What had happened was a little startling, but considering everything else that was evolving within her, it was just one more thing to accept.
The upside of the latest revelation was Charlie. He was unflappable. As soon as she got out, she dressed in sweats and headed downstairs.
Wyrick was, in no way, a domestic goddess, but she was thinking along the lines of “feed a cold, starve a fever,” as she went. She felt weird, like she hadn’t eaten in days, and guessed food would be the first step in taking that away.
She could toast a mean waffle when the need arose, and this morning, in light of the fact that she’d just bypassed text messaging as the world knew and understood it, eating seemed like the thing to do.
By the time Charlie came down, she had coffee made, and a platter of toasted waffles on the table, with butter and syrup in containers beside them.
“Seriously, Martha Stewart?” Charlie said as he walked into the room and smelled the waffles.
She turned toward him, the fork in her hand in a gesture of defense.
“If you ever want another bear claw in your office again, you might want to shut it,” she snapped.
He grinned, but had the good sense not to respond. Instead, he poured himself a cup of coffee, waited for her to sit down and then joined her.
A brief wash of regret moved through Charlie as he thought of all the times he and Annie had sat down to breakfast like this, but because of the early-onset Alzheimer’s she had suffered, he’d lost that life with her a long time before he lost the woman.
They ate in relative silence for a few minutes, until he got up to refill his coffee and carried the carafe to the table and topped off her cup, as well.
“Did we tie up all the loose ends on the missing twins’ case?” Charlie asked.
Wyrick nodded. “The police were given all of the information you got on the guy connected to the human trafficking ring. Last I heard, they’d picked him up, but I have no idea if he turned on his people. All I know is, those girls are lucky you found them when you did. They were bound for Dubai.”
“We found them. Never belittle the online tracking you do,” Charlie said.
Wyrick said nothing, but the praise went deep. She was dedicated to never letting this man down. Even when he made her crazy, his place in her life was ingrained.
Charlie pointed to the last waffle on the plate.
“You gonna eat that?” he asked.
“I can’t,” Wyrick said.
He frowned. “Why?”
“It has your name on it,” Wyrick said.
It took him a second to realize she’d actually made a joke, and then laughed out loud as he forked it onto his plate.
“That’s a good one,” he said, then buttered it up and drowned it in syrup, just the way he liked it.
Wyrick got up and carried her dishes to the sink. No need to sit there and get all comfy-cozy with the boss—even if he was living under her roof for the sole purpose of keeping her alive.
“I’m going to check my email,” she said. “I’ll be ready to leave for work around 7:30.”
Charlie had a mouthful of waffle, and nodded as she left the kitchen.
Wyrick thought about going out to the greenhouse to pick some of Merlin’s tomatoes first, then decided against it. She’d get them tonight when they came home. She’d been putting off checking online messages and email, but this morning it felt like the thing to do.
