Cooper's Choice, page 20
“We’re planning to relocate you both to a safe house in Knoxville,” Jason said. “That’s one of the reasons we brought the chopper.”
The idea of flying back to Knoxville was thrilling and terrifying at the same time. But Mia’s biggest concern was for Cooper. She tightened her grip on his hand. “Are you sure about this?”
“Absolutely.” He spoke without hesitation.
“Okay, then, we’ll be ready to go when you are,” Mia agreed.
“Give me some time to talk to the men Kellen has in custody.” Jason Burke glanced at his watch. “We’ll need about an hour.”
“Okay, sounds good.” Mia watched as the two federal agents stood. When they were gone, she turned toward Cooper. “Last chance,” she said only half joking. “There’s still time for you to change your mind.”
“It hurts that you don’t trust me, Mia.” Cooper frowned. “What can I do to convince you that I love you?”
She met his gaze. “I believe you love me, as I love you. God brought us together, Cooper. But there’s a part of me that is worried you haven’t really gotten over your past.”
His expression turned thoughtful. “Okay, that’s fair. I believe you are right about God bringing us together, Mia. I have instinctively prayed to Him when I needed His guidance. And I should take a moment to thank Him for bringing you into my life.”
“Oh, Cooper. That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.” She smiled through misty eyes.
“I know there’s a lot for me to learn,” he acknowledged. “But I’m willing to do whatever is necessary. Hearing that Hailey and Rock are actually getting married in the church here in town makes me realize how important it is to put the past to rest.”
Hearing about a wedding they likely wouldn’t be able to attend made her feel sad. “I’m sorry you’ll miss their ceremony.”
“Stop apologizing,” he said without heat. “What can I do to make you trust me in this?”
“Kiss me,” she whispered, leaning against him. “I need you to hold me and kiss me, Cooper.”
“Now that is no hardship.” He pulled her as close as the chairs would allow and kissed her. Mia’s heart swelled with love and happiness.
“I love you so much, Mia.” He kissed her again. “And I know we’re going to be just fine from here on out.”
“I know we will.” She nestled against him, feeling content. Relocating to a new place, in a new town, in a new state wouldn’t be nearly as stressful with Cooper at her side.
And maybe someday, when Frankie and his accomplices were tried and convicted, they’d return to Gatlinburg, Tennessee.
The place Cooper called home.
Epilogue
Three weeks later . . .
Cooper didn’t mind the landscaping job the US Marshals had helped him obtain. The small apartment he and Mia shared, after a small and private wedding, wasn’t the best place in the world, but he’d been in much worse.
Florida was humid and sunny, much like Tennessee, only much hotter. The ocean was amazing, but he secretly missed the Smoky Mountains.
He could only draw in private, and that wasn’t easy to live with either, but since Mia didn’t mind sitting for him, he was generally content. More so than he’d ever imagined. And that was all because of Mia.
She was worth everything and more.
Mia worked as a receptionist in a medical clinic. The pay wasn’t great, they were barely scraping by, but she really enjoyed helping her elderly patients and had recently asked US Deputy Marshal Eric Sutton to allow her to take nursing courses. She already had the basic science college credits under her belt and wanted to move forward with a nursing career. Deputy Mark Beldon had survived and was still recuperating from surgery.
Cooper often wondered how Hailey, Rock, Sawyer, Trent, Darby, and the other fosters were doing. He wished he’d been able to spend more than a few minutes with Hailey and Rock, but he was blessed to have had that much. At least Hailey knew he’d survived the Preacher and could tell the others he was doing fine.
Especially Trent. If they’d managed to track him down by now.
Since he was finished for the day, Cooper rode his bicycle to the apartment he shared with Mia. They had one car, courtesy of the US Marshals, but Mia needed it more than he did. He preferred walking or biking to get from one place to another. Old habits died hard.
When he saw a strange vehicle parked on the road, he frowned. The car could have belonged to anyone, but he had the distinct feeling the Feds had dropped by for a visit.
And he was right. When he unlocked the apartment door, he heard Mia say, “Here’s Cooper now.”
Special Agent in Charge Jason Burke rose to his feet. “Nice to see you again, Cooper.”
Cooper couldn’t really say he felt the same, but he managed a smile. “What brings you to the Panhandle?”
“Frank Germaine Junior has decided to plead guilty to murdering Deputy Sean McCarthy and the attempted murder of Deputy Mark Beldon in exchange for taking the death penalty off the table.” The federal agent looked grim. “We have other charges pending against him too, but those are the ones that will put him away for the rest of his life.”
“I’m shocked he agreed to that,” Mia said.
“His mistake for killing a man in Tennessee,” Burke said with a shrug. “The good news is that his father’s empire has fallen apart after we made a series of additional arrests. The two men who you helped the Gatlinburg PD arrest spilled the beans on several others who were also hired by Frankie to find you. They worked in teams, apparently, yet still had trouble keeping you in their sights.”
“So they weren’t tracking my phone?” Mia asked.
“No.”
“Yet they still found us, more than once,” Cooper said dryly. He exchanged a look with Mia. “All of this means what exactly?”
Agent Burke spread his hands. “Neither one of you is in danger any longer. If you want to stay in the program, that’s fine, but if you want to leave, that’s okay too. Your choice either way.”
“We’ll stay here,” Cooper said at the same time Mia said, “We’re returning to Gatlinburg.”
A smile tugged at the corner of the agent’s mouth. “Sounds like you need to talk about it before deciding.”
Cooper turned toward Mia. “Our life here isn’t bad, Mia. You mentioned going to a nursing program, now you can do that.”
“Your family is in Gatlinburg,” she argued. “Hailey is important and so are your other foster siblings.”
“They are, but that doesn’t mean we need to live in the same place. Lots of families visit each other across state lines.”
“Please, Cooper. I know your sketching is important to you as is your family. I can look into online nursing programs.” She paused, then added, “There’s a nursing program in Knoxville, which isn’t too far of a commute.”
Her willingness to go back to Tennessee with him was humbling. “I want you to be sure, Mia.”
“I love you, Cooper.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “And I want to go back home to Tennessee.”
It was in that moment he truly understood the power of God’s love. And the life he and Mia were blessed to have together.
* * *
Thank you for reading Cooper’s Choice! I hope you loved hearing about how Cooper and Mia’s fought danger in order to find happiness. Are you interested in reading Trent and Serena’s story in Trent’s Trust? Click here!
Dear Reader
I hope you enjoyed Cooper’s Choice, the fourth book in my Smoky Mountain Secrets series. I’m having fun writing about the fosters’ reunions and can’t wait until they all find each other in Jayme’s Journey.
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Until next time,
Laura Scott
P. S. If you’re curious about Trent’s Trust, I’ve included the first chapter here . . .
Trent’s Trust
Trent Atkins put everything he had into his performance yet found it impossible to lose himself in his music. After finishing the song, he sipped his water, glancing surreptitiously at the woman seated near the back of the pub. She was pretty, with straight chin-length blond hair, high cheekbones, and curvy physique, but so far he hadn’t seen her smile. The mystery woman had shown up at his last two gigs, but he did not get the groupie vibe from her.
Just the opposite.
She seemed to be sitting there, judging him. Was she someone he’d met when he’d been with the Jimmy Woodrow Band? A one-night stand he’d never contacted again? Or maybe one of Jimmy’s one-night stands? He abruptly steered away from thoughts of his buddy’s abrupt death or he’d never be able to finish this set.
Trent launched into another song, doing his best to ignore the woman’s intense stare. Music had always been his sanctuary. His place of peace. Something he’d lost when he’d joined Jimmy’s band. Of course, he hadn’t realized it at the time. No, Trent had been drawn toward the lure of raking in big money, being famous, and living large. All of which had come true. At least temporarily. The money had been great, better than anything he’d ever experienced before, but the drinking and drugs soon had the entire band spiraling out of control. He hadn’t taken many drugs, but the alcohol? Oh yeah. The booze had been the devil on his shoulder.
But not anymore. At least, not for the past four months. Which he knew wasn’t saying much. Trent closed his eyes for a moment and focused on the song. A country rock ballad he’d composed himself after getting and staying sober.
When Trent finished, he tipped his cowboy hat—it was a prop more than anything—to acknowledge the spattering of applause. Then he thanked the crowd for coming and mentioned he’d be playing at the Thirsty Saloon next Friday night too. He stood, looped his guitar crossways over his body, and moved off the small rough plank stage, heading toward the rear door of the bar.
The saloon was a far cry from the high-level clubs the Jimmy Woodrow Band had played in. Jimmy and the band had drawn huge crowds and had more gigs than he’d ever imagined was possible. It had been a roller coaster of a ride.
Until the night Trent woke up, hungover and trying not to puke, only to stumble across Jimmy’s dead body on the floor of their hotel suite.
The image haunted him still. Jimmy’s wide eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, his body cold to the touch. Since Trent had pretty much passed out, he had no real idea of what had happened.
If he were honest, he didn’t want to know. What if he’d somehow played a role in his friend’s death? Even after all this time, he was secretly waiting for the police to show up and haul him away in handcuffs.
Especially since Trent had cowardly left the hotel room without waiting around for the authorities to show up. He hadn’t even called the police but had huddled in a seedy dive motel room watching TV waiting for the news to explode.
And it certainly had.
Trent was so preoccupied with his thoughts, ruminating over the past, he didn’t notice the figure dressed in a black hoodie coming swiftly toward him until it was almost too late. Trent’s street-fighting instincts had him lashing out with his foot in an attempt to kick the guy’s groin while throwing a punch with his left hand, his dominant one. He also shouted at the top of his lungs, hoping to draw the attention of people passing by.
Out of nowhere, the blonde from the bar showed up and struck the attacker from behind, bringing two fists down onto the back of his head with surprising force. The hooded man stumbled, dropped a knife, then whirled and ran off, darting between the cars in the small parking lot.
Trent gaped at her, trying to understand what had happened. A mugger tried to steal from him, but his mystery woman had charged to his rescue. Why? He had no idea, but he didn’t think it was simply a kind gesture on her part. “W-who are you? What do you want?”
She gripped his arm and steered him toward a dark blue SUV. “We need to talk.”
Talk? His paranoid instincts from the time he’d spent living on the streets came rushing back to him. She was even more beautiful up close, but that didn’t mean anything. He dug in his heels and roughly shook off her hand. “No way, lady. I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Trent, I have reason to believe the guy who attacked you is no ordinary mugger.” She stepped closer, tipping her head back to meet his gaze. For a tiny thing, she’d packed a wallop.
No ordinary mugger? The crime rate in Nashville was such that he found it difficult to believe. Lots of petty crime and worse happened every day. Why would tonight be any different?
“We need to talk,” she repeated sternly.
He swallowed hard and eyed her warily. The way she referred to him by name was alarming. As if she knew a lot about him when he didn’t know squat about her. “About what?”
There was a long moment of silence before she said, “Jimmy Woodrow’s murder.”
Murder. The word hit him square in the chest with the impact of a bullet. He staggered back a step, wondering if he’d misheard her. Maybe he was losing his grip on reality. It wouldn’t be a surprise to realize the secrets he’d never voiced had instead slowly and surely eaten away at him, causing him to go quietly insane.
Even the role he’d played in the night of the fire when he and his foster siblings had escaped the Preacher’s cabin didn’t compare to what had transpired with Jimmy. Not for the first time, it occurred to Trent he never should have left his foster brother Cooper behind in Gatlinburg.
He never should have come to Nashville at all.
“Please, Trent. I promise I only want to talk.”
He shouldn’t trust her. He had learned to trust no one, except maybe Cooper, who was still living in Gatlinburg and was of no help to him now. In fact, Trent had ignored his foster brother’s phone call a couple of weeks ago, too embarrassed to respond. But that didn’t matter right now.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
“My name is Serena Jerash.” She paused as if waiting for him to recognize her.
He didn’t.
“Why do you care about Jimmy?” he asked harshly.
Her gaze was shadowed in the darkness, impossible to read. “I’m a friend of his. And I just want to talk to you, nothing more.”
Yeah, she kept saying that, but he wasn’t buying it, not for one hot minute. She must have known he had been there the night Jimmy had died. It was the only explanation.
The steamy September night closed in on him, stealing his breath. He struggled to remain focused, ignoring the keen, desperate desire to go back inside for a shot and a beer, followed by another and another until he could no longer see Jimmy’s blank stare in his mind. Yet Trent knew the relief would only be temporary. Staying sober was the only way to survive. He gathered every ounce of willpower he possessed. “Lady, I don’t know who you are or what you’re up to, but I’m not going anywhere with you.” He turned away.
“There’s a restaurant that’s open all night about a mile up the road.” She hurried after him, putting a hand on his arm. She was persistent, he’d give her that much. “We can talk there. It’s a public place but won’t be too busy at this time of night.”
“Why should I?” He stared at her. “Muggings are not unusual in Nashville, and in case you haven’t noticed, we happen to be standing in a rough part of town.” He was at the point where he couldn’t afford to be picky when it came to places willing to hire him to sing and play his guitar. He took any and all gigs he could get. Even then, he was barely making ends meet.
“Because the same person who killed Jimmy Woodrow is likely coming after you.”
That blunt statement stopped him cold. “Are you a cop?”
“No. As I said, I just want to talk.”
His thoughts whirled. He shouldn’t talk to her. To anyone. Trent knew the best thing he could do was to get as far away from the blonde as possible. Yet she’d been at his last few gigs. And would likely show up next Friday here at the Thirsty Saloon to see him.
Unless he blew off the gig, which he was in no position to do.
“Please, Trent.” Her low husky voice had him wondering if she was a singer. It would explain her interest in Jimmy’s death.
His murder?
His curiosity got the better of him, and he capitulated. “Fine. I’ll see you at Connie’s Café.” Without saying anything more, he twisted out of her grip and walked to his rusty and badly dented Ford truck. After sliding his guitar off his shoulders, he stored it in the back seat, then climbed in behind the wheel. Glancing through the driver’s side window, he noticed Serena Jerash hurried to her much newer and nicer SUV.
Against his better judgment, Trent waited for her to pull out of the parking lot before following behind. The ride to Connie’s Café didn’t take long, and he seriously considered driving past once they’d reached their destination.
But he pulled in and parked beside her, hoping he wasn’t making a giant mistake.
Serena half expected Trent to make a run for it, but to her surprise, he parked his battered truck right beside her. He waited for her to emerge from the vehicle first before pushing open his door to accompany her inside.
Her hands were sore from where she’d struck the assailant before he’d dropped the knife and taken off. She’d been relieved there hadn’t been a need to pull her gun. She’d seriously considered using it because going after the guy might have given her an indication of who had hired him. Yet sticking close to Trent Atkins had seemed the better choice.
