Left Behind, page 1
Also by Sharon Sala
The Next Best Day
Don’t Back Down
Last Rites
Heartbeat
Blessings, Georgia
Count Your Blessings (novella)
You and Only You
I’ll Stand by You
Saving Jake
A Piece of My Heart
The Color of Love
Come Back to Me
Forever My Hero
A Rainbow above Us
The Way Back to You
Once in a Blue Moon
Somebody to Love
The Christmas Wish
The Best of Me
Copyright © 2024 by Sharon Sala
Cover and internal design © 2024 by Sourcebooks
Cover design by Ervin Serrano
Cover images © martin.dlugo/Shutterstock, Jeff Gammons StormVisuals/Shutterstock, Peangdao/Shutterstock
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
About the Author
Chapter 1
It was Linette Elgin’s day off, and since she was a nurse, days off rarely came two in a row. This morning she was hustling, getting ready to walk out the door, get all of her errands over with, so she could clean her apartment and do laundry later.
The day was already hot, but it was June in Jubilee, Kentucky, which meant if you wanted to stay cool, you either looked for shade or went where there was air-conditioning. She had dressed for the weather in old jeans and a lightweight gray T-shirt with the word no printed on it in bloodred ink before she headed for the elevator. When the doors finally opened, she found herself face-to-face with Cecily Michaels, one of the women who’d rudely interrupted her first date with Wiley Pope.
Cecily looked startled, and then frowned. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here,” Linette said, and then saw the shock spreading on Cecily’s face and grinned. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”
Cecily was horrified that she’d moved into the enemy’s camp and still pissed that Wiley had blocked her calls. So, being the utter bitch that she was, she couldn’t keep her mouth shut.
“How’s Wiley?” she drawled.
Linette pivoted so fast Cecily flinched, and in the sweetest voice, put her in her place.
“Bless your heart, honey. You must be the most miserable little thing to have nothing better to do with your life than interfere in someone else’s, so because I am a really nice person, this is just a friendly little warning.” Then she leaned forward. “Don’t fuck with me.”
The elevator stopped. The door opened, and then she was gone.
Cecily was in shock and just a little bit cowed. Every woman in the South knew bless your heart was code for kiss my ass, and Linette was taller and scarier up close. By the time Cecily gathered herself and got to the parking lot, Linette Elgin was nowhere in sight, and that was just fine with her.
***
Linette had already forgotten the new neighbor and was on her way to the bank. Traffic was already getting heavy, which was par for the course in a tourist town like Jubilee, and she was grateful to find a parking place. When she entered the bank lobby, she was thinking about making meat loaf later and what she needed to get at the supermarket. She had personal business to attend to and sat down in one of the chairs outside the vice president’s office to wait her turn. She was reaching for her phone when she heard a sudden commotion at the front entrance.
To her horror, three men came charging into the lobby, wearing surgical masks, waving guns, and shouting. A big heavyset man wearing gray coveralls and a Texas Rangers baseball cap issued the first order.
“Everybody down! Get down on the floor now!”
People started screaming and panicking, and one lady fainted where she stood.
Texas Ranger fired a shot into the ceiling. “Shut the hell up! Next one screams is dead! Belly down on the floor and don’t look up!”
There was a mutual gasp, the quick shuffling of feet as people dropped down onto the floor, and then silence.
Linette was horrified. Her phone was in her pocket, but she was belly down and couldn’t move. Mr. Trotter, the vice president she’d been waiting to see, wound up lying right beside her. She could hear the rapid, shallow gasps of his breathing and knew he was as frightened as the rest of them.
Texas Ranger shouted at the two men with him. “Get the money!” Then pointed at the tellers, who’d frozen in place behind the plexiglass windows. “All of you! Empty your tills into the bags and no funny business!”
The tellers began cramming the money from their drawers into the bags they’d been given as fast as they could.
One of the gunmen, a short, skinny dude, kept pulling up his pants and dancing from one foot to the other, then trading his gun from right hand to left hand, and back again.
Linette’s best guess was that he was high on something, which didn’t bode well for any of them.
“Hurry up, bitch!” Skinny Dancer shouted and pounded his gun on the counter in front of the teller.
Texas Ranger shouted again. “Who’s in charge?”
“That would be me,” Randall Trotter said, and held up his hand.
“Then get the hell up and open the vault,” Texas Ranger ordered.
“Yes, sir!” Randall said.
“Be careful,” Linette whispered, as they shared a brief look.
Randall was in the act of getting up when Skinny Dancer swung around, saw Randall getting to his feet and shouted, “He told you not to move!” and shot him in the face.
Randall Trotter was dead before he hit the floor.
More screams, then moans of dismay rolled through the lobby. Linette was in a state of disbelief. Randall’s body had fallen across her outstretched arms, pinning her to the floor. She was screaming inside so loud her ears felt numb, but in actuality, she was lying in frozen silence, watching the blood pooling around his head.
“God damn it!” Texas Ranger shouted. “What did you do that for? Now how the hell are we gonna get in the vault?”
The third man, who was standing lookout at the entrance, was distracted by the disruption of the killing and didn’t see the cop coming in the door behind him, but Linette did, and this time, her heart nearly stopped.
***
Jubilee police officer Wiley Pope was unaware of the robbery in progress, or that the silent alarm had been activated at the PD, until he entered the bank lobby. Within a heartbeat, his brain registered the customers in total panic, belly down on the floor with their arms stretched out before them.
The frantic expressions on the teller’s faces.
And the three armed men in the act of robbing the bank.
Wiley was already drawing his weapon when Lookout Man finally spotted him, yelled, “Cop!” and fired off a shot.
Wiley ducked behind a pillar and fired back. Lookout Man dropped, and the other two robbers were scrambling, which gave every teller in sight the opportunity to hit the floor below the counters.
The robbers were firing off shots at Wiley as they scrambled for cover, and he returned fire in rapid succession.
Skinny Dancer dropped.
Wiley and Texas Ranger were the last men standing, and a heartbeat later, both aimed and fired.
Texas Ranger’s shot hit Wiley’s chest and sent him flying backward, while Wiley’s shot ripped through Texas Ranger’s shoulder, splattering blood all over the plexiglass window at the tellers’ stations behind him.
The silence afterward was as frightening as the robbers’ entry had been.
The three men were unconscious and bleeding on the floor, and Wiley was staring up at the ceiling, reeling from the impact and trying to catch his breath.
All of a sudden, people began screaming.
Tellers came running out from behind the counters, and a teenage boy was on the phone calling 911, unaware the silent alarm had already been triggered.
Wiley was still struggling to breathe and grabbing at his shirt when a woman ran into his line of vision.
Oh my God! Linette!
“Help…” Wiley gasped, trying to unsnap his shirt to get to the bulletproof vest beneath.
***
Linette was in a panic. From the moment the robbers entered the bank to when Wiley was shot, every dream she’d ever had for a
Body armor! He was wearing a bulletproof vest! Thank you, God!
Without saying a word, she grabbed at the front of his shirt, knowing the vest that just saved him was now impeding his ability to catch his breath.
Wiley was fighting her, grabbing at her hands, when she grasped his wrists.
“Wiley, don’t fight me! Relax. It knocked the breath from your lungs. Relax and it will come.”
Even as he was struggling to breathe, her voice and her face splattered with blood shocked him out of his own panic, and then he realized she was mobile and talking, and he was not, so he leaned back against the pillar and tried not to pass out as she unsnapped his shirt and began yanking at the Velcro straps to loosen the vest.
His heart was pounding; the room was spinning. It felt like he’d just been hit in the chest with a sledgehammer. And then all of a sudden, the vest was loosened, his lungs inflated, and he was finally able to inhale. The look of gratitude that passed between them was telling.
“I hear sirens,” she said. “You’re doing great, Wiley. My God, my God, you saved us.”
“Check pulses,” he mumbled.
Her voice was shaking. “I hope they’re dead. All of them. They killed Randall Trotter and were fighting among themselves when you walked in.”
He grabbed her wrist. “Check…please.”
She cupped his cheek, then did as he asked, moving from body to body.
“They’re alive,” she said.
“Shit,” Wiley muttered, rolled over onto his hands and knees, and finally staggered to his feet. His hand was splayed over the center of his chest, afraid to move it for fear he’d fall apart, while he waited for the room to stop spinning. Once he could breathe and stand up at the same time, he reached for his radio.
“Officer Pope reporting. Attempted robbery at Jubilee Bank. One bank employee dead. Three perps down, but still have pulses. I took a shot in the chest. Suggest haste.”
Aaron Pope was on patrol when dispatch notified them of a silent alarm at the bank. As they were responding, they also heard Wiley radio in.
“Holy shit,” Officer Bob Yancy said, giving his partner, Aaron, a quick glance.
Aaron’s gut was in a knot. “At least he’s alive and conscious enough to make the call.”
***
But inside the bank, Wiley was already in containment mode, trying to get everyone away from the perps without passing out in front of them.
“What do you need? I’ll do it,” Linette asked.
“Move the customers to the front of the lobby.”
Linette turned around and began issuing his orders, loudly and firmly.
“Can we leave?” one man asked.
“Nobody leaves,” Wiley mumbled, then doubled over as a wave of pain rolled through him. He needed to get the weapons contained, but he couldn’t bend over for the pain.
Linette slid her arm beneath his shoulder to steady him and was moving him toward a chair when the police began pouring into the lobby to contain the scene. Once they had retrieved the weapons, they gave the all clear to the EMTs. After that, Rescue moved inside in teams and did what they did, readying the wounded for transport.
Aaron came in running, headed straight to Wiley, and then knelt beside his chair. “Damn it, Brother, are you okay?”
Linette recognized him. “Your brother was our hero. He took a bullet in the chest. The body armor stopped it, but he’s hurting. Steady him. He’s dizzy. I’m going to get an ambulance for him.” Then she passed Wiley off to Aaron without another word and ran.
“What happened?” Aaron asked as he slipped his arm beneath Wiley’s shoulder.
“They killed Trotter before I got here,” Wiley said, holding his hand against his chest. “Body armor saved me. Feel like I’ve been hit with a sledgehammer. Can’t breathe. Sick to my stomach. Perps still have a pulse.”
“Stop talking, buddy,” Aaron said. “We’ll figure it out,” he added and started walking Wiley toward the door.
At that point, Linette sped back into the lobby. “The first ambulances are here. Walk him out. They’re waiting to take him to the ER. I’m staying here to help.”
Wiley started to thank her, but she was already gone.
Aaron helped him out of the bank and loaded him up into the back of an ambulance.
“Don’t tell Mom. She’ll fuss,” Wiley said.
“You don’t get to choose,” Aaron said. “She’ll kill the both of us if I don’t. I’ll get there as soon as I can,” he said, then stepped back as they closed the doors and took off to the hospital. At that point, he called home.
***
Shirley was mopping the kitchen floor when her cell phone rang. She saw Aaron’s name on caller ID, leaned the mop against the wall, wiped her hands, and then answered.
“Hello, honey. You caught me in the middle of mopping. What’s up?”
“There was an attempted robbery at the bank. Wiley walked in on it. He’s okay, but on the way to the ER. He was wearing his body armor but took a bullet in the chest. It never penetrated, but he’s hurting. Just wanted you to know.”
“Oh my God,” Shirley said. “What about the bank robbers?”
“He took down all three of them, but they’d killed Mr. Trotter before he got there. The perps were all still alive when we got to the bank and are in the process of being transported to the ER. I’ve got to go.”
“I’m leaving now,” she said. “Thank you for calling me. He wasn’t going to, was he?”
Aaron chuckled. “What do you think?”
Shirley sighed. “Right. Does B.J. know?”
“Not yet, but I’m calling him next,” Aaron said, and disconnected.
At that point, Shirley dropped her phone in her pocket and took off through the house to Sean’s office while Aaron was calling their youngest brother. He was the head pastry chef at the restaurant in the Serenity Inn, and most likely elbow-deep in sugar and flour, but he had to let him know.
***
As Aaron predicted, B.J. was in the hotel kitchen when his cell phone rang. He started to let it go to voicemail, and then noticed it was from Aaron and stepped out into a hallway to answer.
“Hey, Aaron. What’s up?” he asked.
Aaron repeated everything he’d just told their mom.
B.J. was stunned. “He shot all three of them? Are they dead?”
“No. They were all still breathing when the EMTs transported them.”
“Is he conscious?” B.J. asked.
“Yes, and talking once he was able to breathe again.”
B.J.’s eyes welled. “All this shit was happening while I was baking bread.”
“And I was sitting in a police car on patrol. And Mom was mopping the floor, and Sean is likely in his office, and that’s how life works. Don’t go there. We live our lives by our choices until we’re done. Wiley is damn good at what he does. He saved a bunch of lives today, okay?”
B.J. took a breath. “Yes, okay. It’s just overwhelming to think about. I’m not sure if I can get away. I’ll call Mom first, and if he’s in trouble, I’ll be there. Thank you for letting me know.”
“Of course. Just take a breath for Wiley, and one for yourself. I’m sure he’s okay. I walked him out to the ambulance myself.”
“Right,” B.J. said, but the moment he disconnected, he called his mom.
***
Within minutes of receiving the message, Sean and Shirley were in the car and heading into Jubilee, with Sean behind the wheel and Shirley riding shotgun. They’d barely left the driveway when her phone rang. She glanced at caller ID and then answered.
“Hello, honey.”
B.J. was shaking inside, but trying to hold it together. “Aaron just told me what happened. I’m not sure I can get away without bringing the whole pastry line to a halt. Will you tell Wiley I’m saying prayers and let me know if he’s not okay?”
“Of course. Sean and I are already on the way into Jubilee. Wiley was wearing his bulletproof vest. He’ll be bruised and hurting, but I’m sure he’s going to be fine. I’ll keep you updated, okay?”
“Yes, okay. Love you,” B.J. said.
“We love you, too. Go back to work, and I’ll call you when I know details.”
“Thanks,” he said, then hung up and hurried back into the kitchen, waved at three of his sous-chefs, and pointed at the timer. “Get the pans ready. The rye dough is on its last proofing. And this time, remember to braid the loaves before you set them to rise. The dough for the baguettes is also ready, and for the love of God, delicate cuts, delicate cuts on the baguettes this time. Last time they looked like they’d been run through a guillotine. I want them as perfect as that diamond in your fiancée’s engagement ring, understand?”
