A Broken Place: Places, #3

By Fran Driscoll

When Reverie meets an old schoolmate, Jordy, who is a Green Bay Packer star, more than sparks fly..

 

However, Reverie doesn't live a simple life, and bodies always seem to follow her…

 

Jordy is framed for murder, and they kidnapped the two of them.

 

Reverie's Uncle Phil and Hunter join the case, but do they have a chance against a sophisticated crime ring that has a free hand in parts of the US and Puerto Rico? The McPhillen family is called upon to help free Jordy and Reverie and catch the "Brown-Eyed Girl" killer who began his spree in Wisconsin.

 

If you love Christian Romantic Suspense, you'll love "A Broken Place," Book 3 in the thrilling series, "Places."

 

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Fran Driscoll
• Release date: Sep 9, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201418649

Book preview

Chapter One

San Juan, Puerto Rico

Reverie’s shoes dug into a long, thin ribbon of sand behind the Orion Caribbean Suites, San Juan. The sound of the waves crashing against the breakers, and the majestic striations of color that painted her little stretch of beach made it worth the extra work of running through the sand. Reverie had never been a big fan of exercise, but now she had energy to burn. The ocean was calling her, and the beach was no longer brimming with tourists eager to soak up the Puerto Rican sun.

She ran, wide open, as close to the ocean water as she could get without soaking her shoes, resisting the urge to raise her hands in the air and shout like she’d just scored the game-winning run. Then she shouted anyway. Orion Caribbean, and its dozens of chic resorts, was now her customer. Crimson Sunset, LLC was next. It was only a matter of time before her dreams came true. Finally.

Wind whipped tiny strands of her thick hair into her chestnut brown eyes, and the waves danced raucously beside her. She was so busy looking out across the frothy water that she never saw the other runner. She felt the hit, and then she was flying through the air. Reverie landed with a wet thud and breathed in a mouthful of salty ocean water as she scraped along the bottom.

She coughed and thrashed as a pair of strong hands pulled her from the waves. She swiped her hair from her eyes and planted her feet, ready to defend herself if necessary. A man with short, honey-colored hair streaked with blonde held her hands firmly in his grip. His sapphire blue eyes captured her in their gaze for a moment until the pain in her arm and leg demanded her attention.

Are you okay? he asked, his handsome face dark with concern. I didn’t see you.

I never saw you either, she whispered almost to herself, as she splashed water against her bloody arm and tried to spit sand off her lips without being too obvious about it. Trying to control the tremor in her voice, she continued, I was looking at the waves, and I...

I was watching the dolphins. The man’s face was a mask of regret.

What dolphins? If he would only turn away, she could wash the sand from the side of her face and lips.

He did turn and pointed. See the fins disappearing over by that huge rock? They’ll come around this way again in a few seconds.

She cupped her hands and doused her face a couple of times. Then she squeezed the water from her shirt. Reverie stifled several coughs as she splashed away the sand and blood, while straining to see the playful mammals against the explosion of pink and orange sky. Moments later, she was rewarded with the dark shadows of a pod of four dolphins showing just enough of themselves to gain attention. Hey, I see them! The delight in her voice was genuine.

Are you positive you’re okay?

Reverie looked down at her right arm and dribbled more water on it. There was a long scratch above her elbow, and fat trickles of blood rolled from it. She bent down and submerged her arm, wincing as the salt water burned.

I’m staying at the Orion Premiere. He nodded in the direction of the elegant cottages farther down the beach. I bet they have a first aid kit.

It’s okay. I’m just over there in one of the suites. She pointed her thumb behind her. I can fix this scrape up in no time. My mother was a nurse.

He nodded. At DePere General, right?

She stared at the man, taking in his thin but muscular build and his beautiful eyes once more. Do I know you?

You’re Reverie Martin.

And you are…? She swallowed and pushed her hair back as a chill snaked its way up her spine.

Jordy Schmidt.

Reverie took a step back. I’m sorry. I don’t remember where we met.

DePere High School. You were a year ahead of me, but our birthdays are only ten days apart. I was held back because of the cutoff. You’re August 28 th and I’m September 7 th. We had the same Chemistry class.

Reverie stilled herself and let the dead calm roll through her. It was only temporary, but the deep breath she was holding helped. Finally, she exhaled as the fog cleared. Mr. Withers? That man was the toughest teacher I ever had. But he knew his stuff.

He did. Little laugh lines around his eyes and mouth had made him seem older, but too much time in the sun could do that. Made sure we knew it too.

So why can’t I remember you? And why am I the only one who looks like a train wreck? Reverie looked for signs that he’d been running, but he hadn’t even broken a sweat. Had she seen him earlier in the day? There was something familiar about his face.

As if he read her mind, Jordy said, Picture me with huge blonde curls all over my head.

She stared, her mind racing, noting the slight gap between his two front teeth. How could she forget a face like that? But then it came to her. Jordan Schmidt, Schmitty, hung out with the super jocks, people who didn’t notice clumsy nerds like her. He was quiet and kind of faded into the background in school, but he was in with the kids who didn’t know she was alive. Wow, did he grow up fine—about a foot taller than she remembered, and those muscles were nice, too. She could tell he still wore a baseball cap because his hair was sun-bleached blonde at the tips. But those deep, Capri blue eyes, framed by long black lashes, were so enchanting. She could stare at them for hours. How had she missed those eyes during high school? Boy-watching was one of her favorite subjects.

You’re Schmitty. Reverie forced herself to look down at her arm when she realized she had been staring. She dabbed at the blood with the edge of her t-shirt.

Jordy lifted his finger and gently wiped sand from her cheek. I am. Please let me walk you back. It’ll be dark soon, and you’re bleeding.

She touched the place where his finger had been, but when she noticed Jordy’s amused look Reverie swiped water droplets from her face. She didn’t trust herself to speak, so she brushed as many of the sticky crystals as she could from her clothing. Then she turned back toward her suite. She tried to walk without favoring her left leg, but the pain wouldn’t let her. Just enough had been skinned off her thigh that it left a huge, raw, throbbing ache that made every step a challenge. Maybe she should take him up on his offer. Jordy had pointed to the high dollar section of the complex, and they might have a real doctor there who could look at her leg. As she looked him up and down, she thought she remembered seeing him when she checked in at the main desk, a curvy brunette wearing a tiny romper and a pink floppy hat next to him. Reverie hoped he wasn’t there on his honeymoon. But when she looked, there was no ring on his finger.

He stopped and drew next to her. Would it help if you leaned against me? His voice was full of sincerity.

No thanks. I’d just get blood on you.

I can take it. Jordy took off his tank top, shook the sand from it, and tied it around her leg. Now you can focus on that arm. He was way too close, and Reverie had to work to keep her eyes from his face, his amazingly cut upper torso with a farmer’s tan, and his powerful legs. She liked that he didn’t have perfect abs; a small layer of fat hung just below his belly button as pinchable as a baby’s cheek.

Reverie tore her eyes from his body, straightened her gait and tried to walk faster, but her right thigh screamed in protest. So, what do you do for a living? she asked as the silence became uncomfortable.

I’m a cornerback for the Green Bay Packers.

A snort escaped her lips. Sure. I’m one of the cheerleaders. The quarterback is Mickey LeFleur. What do you really do?

He abruptly stopped, and Reverie almost walked into him. I play defense for the Green Bay Packers. Corner. Back. You can look it up.

Reverie made a mental note to do just that, but she couldn’t let the man get away with such a ridiculous line. I watch Packer games all the time. How come I’ve never seen you? Plus, you’re too skinny for defense. You should weigh about fifty more pounds and have hair longer than mine, right?

Jordy’s face colored, and he slipped his iPhone from his pocket. He punched the letters quickly and held up the screen, so she could see the results. There he was, on nfl.com in a Packer jersey. He looked a little younger, and his hair was longer, but that was definitely him. They hired me because I’m fast. I don’t have to be that big. I have good hands, too.

Now it was Reverie’s turn to flush. Her face and ears burned as she stammered an apology. "I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to call you a liar. You were quite the track star. I’d forgotten." She stared at her feet, trying to come up with something clever.

It’s okay, Reverie. Sometimes I don’t even believe it. What guy wouldn’t want to be part of Wisconsin’s Cheesehead Dynasty? Jordy moved to put his phone away and seemed to notice the cotton pocket of his Avanetti shorts for the first time. He began to tear it out along the seam, but only a small triangle of the flimsy white mesh came off before the seam in his shorts started to come apart. He looked at the flimsy fabric in frustration, and then handed the cloth to Reverie. This should help stop the bleeding on your arm. He slid his phone into his waistband, and Reverie could barely tear her eyes away.

Reverie forced her mouth closed. He’d just wrecked an expensive pair of shorts for her. She pressed the cotton on her wound, trying not to wince as it brushed her elbow.

Thanks. How long have you been playing? She could feel blood winding its way down her leg, and it itched. She resumed walking, willing away the urge to scratch.

He easily matched her stride. Three years. How often do you watch us?

Not often enough, obviously. In my defense, you do wear a helmet that covers most of your face. I did think you guys were going all the way last season. Reverie pulled the knot on the tank top tighter against the wound on her leg to staunch the flow of blood. It was painful, but Reverie’s mother had trained her well when it came to injuries.

We should have. I’m still hot about that late hit the Saints put on Mickey. There was no reason for it, and those cracked ribs really messed up our plans. Then the guy gets off with a slap on the wrist. Mickey swears he’s back to 100%, but he’s just not the same powerhouse, and he seems to have lost some of the fire in his belly. There’s nothing else we can do but hope that Mickey will get back to his old self next season.

I heard the guy that hit him, and the coach got huge fines.

Not huge enough. Mickey was in the hospital for ten days, but the rehab was a whole lot longer than that. And you’ve seen how green our back up quarterback is.

Reverie nodded. We were mostly worried about the concussion, but Mom kept us filled in. According to her, the whole staff found reasons to go into that room. Mickey was a good sport and signed about two hundred autographs. And the cops guarding his door? Dad was already a detective, but he volunteered. So did half the other officers within fifty miles. Shoot, my Uncle Phil and cousin Hunter were about to fly up from Mississippi when he was discharged. They’ve followed Mickey since he played at USM.

I do remember seeing your dad at the hospital now that you mention it. How many cops in your family, anyway?

I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you. She flashed an evil stare his way.

"I’m quaking. Anyway, this year we were knocked out of the playoffs after the first round again. Mickey threw a few missiles, but nothing like he used to throw before that low blow."

Reverie licked her lips, wincing at the taste of sand, and suddenly she remembered the last time she’d seen Jordy Schmidt. And you got thrown out of the big game for punching the guy who hurt him. That was you, wasn’t it?

His face flushed so deeply that Reverie could easily see the color, even in the half-light. He attacked me after I let him know what I thought of the dirty hit. I was just defending myself. Thanks to him a great guy suffered a lot. The whole team did. Besides, I hate making the playoffs and getting knocked right out. It’s embarrassing.

I watched that one for sure. We had a big cookout, and the house was packed. Dad even broke the remote during that last game. Jumped right on it when he thought the Packers were going to come back.

That was the plan, but everything fell apart. My girlfriend dumped me about thirty seconds after it was over. Sent me a text saying she was moving to New Jersey. It was a tough day all around.

Oh, you pros have girls coming out of your ears. Deep down Reverie was glad to know he wasn’t here with some gorgeous brunette after all.

Not the kind of girls you bring home to Mom. It’s hard to know who to trust and who just wants to be the wife of a Packer. I’ve met so many girls that talk a good game…

I bet you have. It must be rough having all those girls throwing themselves at you. Reverie tried to keep the edge out of her voice as she stepped away from him and dabbed the sodden cloth at the wound on her arm. She’d never had any patience for the poor, popular kids who have everything but love. As if they were the only ones who sometimes got handed broken hearts. They were usually the ones dishing them out.

Jordy took a step toward her and tried to lighten the conversation. Speaking of relationships, I don’t see a wedding band on your finger. Did you ever marry ‘Brain’ Rouse?

Bri-an Rouse went to Yale on a full scholarship and never came back. Plus, he was the king at using the loveable nerd act to get girls. I found that out too late though.

I never saw him with any girl but you.

Then we were both fooled. I can’t blame him though. If I lived in his house, I’d spend every minute I could somewhere else, too.

Wow, I always assumed you married Brain. He may have been weird, but I figured it was because he was so smart.

No, his family was—well, his Mom was an interesting person. I never met his dad, and I can’t even understand why she has two children with the way she despised men. Let’s just leave it at that.

Little brother was quite the bug collector if I remember correctly. And he used to follow you around like a lost puppy.

That poor kid sure got the worst of it. I think he ended up at Yale with his brother eventually. I don’t know why I’m telling you this. You have a lot more to worry about than my collection of lost boys. Reverie bit her bottom lip, trying to think of something clever to say. She was not enjoying this trip down memory lane. I do have a life. I’ve just made my biggest sale ever. That’s why I was running on the beach.

You’re completely single and working on your first million dollars?

Actually, I was planning to marry Daniel Bissonnette after college, but it didn’t work out. Reverie turned and limped back toward her suite, thoroughly depressed. She decided to forego the doctor in residence at Orion Premiere, if there was one.

Daniel? Really? I wouldn’t ever put you with that loser. Jordy was next to her in an instant.

Reverie cocked an eyebrow at him. Her limp became more pronounced as the sting intensified. Sand and sweat were rolling into the scrape, and all she could think about was a shower. Yet, the insult made her stomach clench. Why not?

You’re a super-brain. He was an obnoxious jerk, and dumb as a rock. The girls he dated were not like you. The last words came out very slowly, as if Jordy didn’t know how to put them together. He stared into her eyes for a moment. How about you take those wet things off and give them to me?

Her mouth dropped open, and she stopped, the heat flaming from her chest to her forehead. I beg your pardon?

Your shoes and socks. It can’t be easy to walk in those squishy things. Let me carry them, Reverie. His face was a picture of innocence.

I can manage.

Just give them to me, so it’s easier to walk. I’ll help with that bloody sock. He dropped to his knees.

Reverie stopped and slipped out of her sodden tennis shoes, and Jordy whisked the socks off in a blink. The sand felt good between her toes, and she glanced at his waist to see if his phone was still secure. Jordy tucked her socks into one shoe and balanced the whole mess on two fingers. She tightened the makeshift bandage on her leg, forcing her face to remain frozen so the pain wasn’t evident. As much as she knew this dead calm was only temporary, she welcomed it. But she wasn’t about to let Jordy’s insult go unanswered.

I don’t know why you think Daniel was a loser. She tried to keep her voice even, but she hated that everybody knew Daniel’s shortcomings but her.

Guys talk, Reverie. And you don’t want to know what a sick puppy Daniel was.

Daniel had his good points. And I’m not a super-brain. Trust me.

Jordy let her set the pace. You won every award they gave out at school. Weren’t you valedictorian?

No, I was just third in the class. I got to introduce the VIPs. But that was so long ago, and I didn’t do so well on the SAT. Third place doesn’t count much when it comes to the good scholarships.

Jordy raised an eyebrow. "You had to have offers."

Reverie slowly squeezed blood from the cloth and pressed it against her elbow as she considered her answer. This was territory that she planned never to wander into again. I didn’t go away to college because I thought I was marrying Daniel, so I only applied at local schools. I ended up with a Bachelor’s in Communication from UW-Oshkosh.

Jordy shook his head, and Reverie tied the makeshift bandage that had been his shirt into a knot around the oozing scrape on her leg. Every time it slid against the wound, she wanted to scream. And that was not an option. The only thing she hated more than revisiting her man-curse was looking like a fool.

What brings you to San Juan? Reverie was desperate to change the subject. Her maternal grandparents kept reminding her that she hadn’t reached her potential and she didn’t want to hear once again how smart she was. Smart hadn’t gotten her business off the ground. Hard work did.

My big sister Julianna is getting married tomorrow. She always wanted a wedding on the beach, and you know that’s hit or miss in DePere at this time of year.

Julianna Schmidt had been the president of Chemistry Club when Reverie was inducted sophomore year. She had the most perfect spiral curls at a time when girls paid big money to get spiral curls. She was gorgeous, brilliant and never met a stranger, one of the few genuinely friendly popular girls at DePere High. Do I know the groom?

Nah, it’s some rich guy she met in Boston. How many people go to watch the Boston Marathon and come back engaged? It’s crazy, if you ask me.

They’ve only known each other for two months?

Jordy shook his head. They met last April. He ran the marathon again this year, but Julianna didn’t make it to Boston. She told him that the wedding plans took precedence, but I think she has an aversion to standing outside for hours in the cold.

How did the groom feel about that? Reverie felt herself getting jealous. Some girls got all the breaks. She fought against the negative emotion, but it seemed that Julianna’s life had been charmed from day one.

He says Julianna is more intoxicating than any race. Ugh. Jordy rolled his eyes.

Don’t you believe in love at first sight?

One in a billion, and I’m not a gambling man.

Not gambling is good. Maybe they’ll let you keep your job. You could do a lot worse than being a Packer in Wisconsin.

Believe me. I know it. I’ve seen so many guys ruined by injuries, by money, by life in general. I hope to ride this train for as long as possible. But if a little thing like you can knock me down, I think I’d better step up my workouts.

Reverie resisted the urge to slap his arm. She wasn’t petite; she was 5’9 and solidly built. Nobody would ever mistake her for tiny. She forced herself not to take another peek at him as she fumbled in her pocket for her room key. You really should get your own comedy club, Jordy. I don’t remember you ever being this entertaining."

Oh, I am. That’s why the guys kept me around in school.

Well, this path leads to my suite. Thanks for walking me back, and have fun at your sister’s wedding. She was always nice, and Julianna was an awesome president. In fact, that club is part of the reason for my business. Reverie leaned against a palm tree.

Really?

Yes, Patrice and I went on a virtual field trip that eventually gave us the idea for our linens. They’re 100% natural and repel mosquitoes.

You’re in business with Patrice Driskell?

It’s Patrice Horne now. And this resort became our biggest client today. Horne-Martin linens will grace every Orion Caribbean resort from here to Galveston.

That’s great. But I still think we should find somebody to look at your leg.

I don’t need any first aid. The bleeding has stopped already. Reverie stuffed the bloody rag in her pocket and held out her hands for her shoes and socks.

Jordy’s blue lasers bored into her as he continued to walk by her side ignoring her outstretched arms. What are you doing tomorrow night? I’ll be busy during the ceremony, but if I know my sister it’ll be a short wedding. She’s all about the celebration afterward. It’s open bar, and the food should be fantastic. I’d love to have somebody from home to talk to during the reception, and you can catch up on science nerd stuff with her.

Thanks, but I’m sure I don’t have anything nice enough to wear. Besides, I’m not home much these days, so I don’t know any of the local gossip. Won’t your parents be there?

Jordy shook his head. My youngest sister Janette is only six months along, but her baby girl is trying to come early. They were packing to go to the airport when her blood pressure spiked, and now she’s stuck in a hospital bed taking medicine to stop her from going back into labor. Nothing can get Mom to leave.

That’s terrible. Reverie twirled the key card in her hand,