Kitabı oku: «Stranger in the Shadows», sayfa 2
“I’m sure—”
“I won’t listen to any more excuses. I don’t like them.” The words were harsh, but Opal’s expression softened, her dark eyes filled with sympathy. “It’s been a year, Chloe. It’s time to move on. That’s why you’re here. That’s what you want. And it’s what I want for you. So, ready or not, you’re attending the wedding.”
Much as Chloe wanted to argue, she couldn’t deny the truth of Opal’s words. She did want to leave the past behind, to focus on the present and the future. To create the kind of life she’d once thought boring and mundane but now longed for. “Okay. I’ll stay. For a while.”
“Good. Now, I’m going to make sure everything is perfect in the sanctuary. You grab yourself a cup of coffee and put your leg up for a while.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“You’ll do exactly what I told you to do.” Opal bustled away, leaving Chloe both amused and frustrated. Opal was a force to be reckoned with. In her absence, the room felt empty, the hollow aloneness of the moment a hard knot in Chloe’s chest, the beauty of the flowers, the tables, the bows and ribbons reminding her of the wedding she’d almost had.
Almost.
All her plans, all her dreams had died well before the accident. Now her dreams were much simpler and much less romantic. She wanted to forget, wanted to move on, wanted to rebuild her life. Maybe with God’s help she could do that, though even here in His house, she felt He was too far away to see her troubles, too far away to care.
And that, more than the flowers and decorations and memories, made her feel truly alone.
THREE
Ben Avery’s attention should have been on the bride and groom, the wedding party, the guests who joked and laughed, ate and talked as the reception wound its way through hour three with no sign of slowing. Instead, his gaze was drawn again and again to Chloe Davidson. Straight black hair gleaming in the overhead light, slim figure encased in a fitted black pantsuit, she smiled and chatted as she moved through the throng, her limp barely noticeable. On the surface, she seemed at ease and relaxed, but there was a tension to her, a humming energy that hadn’t ebbed since he’d first seen her unloading the van.
He watched as she approached Opal Winchester, said a few words, then started toward the door that led outside. Maybe she needed some air, a few minutes away from the crowd, some time to herself. And maybe he should leave her to it. But he’d seen sadness in her eyes and sensed a loneliness that he knew only too well.
And he was curious.
He admitted it to himself as he smiled and waved his way across the reception hall and out the door. Already the day was waning, the sky graying as the sun began its slow descent. The air felt crisp and clean, the quiet sounds of rural life a music that Ben never tired of hearing.
He glanced around the parking lot, saw Chloe leaning against Blooming Baskets’ pink van and strode toward her. “It looks like the flowers were a big success.”
“Opal is pleased, anyway.” Her eyes were emerald-green and striking against the kind of flawless skin that could have graced magazine covers. Only a deep scar on the side of her neck marred its perfection.
“She should be. You worked hard.” He leaned a shoulder against the van, studying Chloe’s face, wondering at the tension in her. Opal had told him almost nothing about the woman she’d hired a week ago. Only that Chloe was recovering from surgery and working at Blooming Baskets. There was more to the story, of course. A lot more. But Ben doubted he’d get answers from either woman.
“So did you. Thanks again for all your help.” She smiled, but the sadness in her eyes remained.
“It was no problem. People in my congregation call me all the time for help.” Though he had to admit he’d been surprised by Opal’s early morning summons. Flowers? Definitely not his thing.
“That may be true, but being woken up before dawn and asked to do a job you’re not getting paid for goes way beyond the call of duty.”
“But not beyond the call of friendship.”
“If that’s the case, Opal is lucky to have a friend like you.”
“In my experience, luck doesn’t have a whole lot to do with how things work out.”
“You’re right about that.” She straightened, brushing thick black bangs from her eyes. “Opal came into my life just when I most needed someone. I’ve always thought that was a God thing. Not a luck thing.”
“But?”
She raised an eyebrow at his question, but answered it. “Lately it’s been hard to see much of God in the things that have happened in my life.”
“You’ve had a hard time.” The scars on her neck and hand were testimony to that, the pain in her eyes echoing the physical evidence left by whatever had happened.
Chloe’s gaze was focused on some distant point. Maybe the trees. Maybe the last rays of the dying sun. Maybe some dream or hope that had been lost. “Yes, but things are better now.”
He was sure he heard a hint of doubt in her voice, but she didn’t give him a chance to comment, just shrugged too-thin shoulders. “I’d better get back inside before Opal sends out a posse.”
The words and her posture told Ben the conversation was closed. He didn’t push to open it again. Much as he might be curious about Chloe, he had no right to press for answers. “I’m surprised she hasn’t already. There must be at least five unmarried men she hasn’t introduced you to yet.”
“Is that what was going on? I was wondering why almost every person she introduced me to was male.” She laughed, light and easy, her body losing some of its tension, her lips curving into a full-out grin that lit her face, glowed in her eyes.
“You should do that more often.”
The laughter faded, but the smile remained. “Do what?”
“Smile.”
“I’ve been smiling all day.”
“Your lips might have been, but your heart wasn’t in it.”
She blinked, started to respond, but the door to the reception hall flew open, spilling light and sound out into the deepening twilight.
“There you are!” Opal’s voice carried over the rumble of wedding excitement as she hurried toward them. “Things are winding down. It won’t be long before Hawke and Miranda leave.”
“Are you hinting that we should get back inside?”
“You know me better than that, Ben. I never hint.”
It was true. In the years Ben had been pastoring Grace Christian Church, Opal had never hesitated to give her opinion or state her mind. A widow who’d lost her husband the same year Ben lost his wife, she was the one woman Ben knew who’d never tried to set him up with a friend, relative or acquaintance.
She had, however, told him over and over again that a good pastor needed a good wife. Maybe she was right, but Ben wasn’t looking for one. “So, you’re telling us we should get back inside?”
“Exactly.” She smiled. “So, let’s go.”
There was no sense arguing. Ben didn’t want to anyway. He’d come outside to make sure Chloe was okay and to satisfy his curiosity. He’d accomplished the first. The second would take a little more time. Maybe a lot more time.
That was something Ben didn’t have.
Much as he loved his job, being a pastor was more than a full-time commitment. Opal’s opinion about a pastor needing a wife aside, Ben had no room for anything more in his life. That was why he planned to put Chloe Davidson and her sad-eyed smile out of his mind.
Planned to.
But he knew enough about life, enough about God, to know that his plans might not be the best ones. That sometimes things he thought were too much effort, too much time, too much commitment, were exactly what God wanted. Only time would tell if Chloe was one of those things.
He pushed open the reception hall door, allowing Chloe and Opal to step in ahead of him. Light, music, laughter and chatter washed over him, the happy excitement of those in attendance wrapping around his heart and pulling him in.
“Ben!” Hawke Morran stepped toward him, dark hair pulled back from his face, his scar a pale line against tan skin.
Ben grabbed his hand and shook it. “Things went well.”
“Of course they did. I was marrying Miranda. Thank you for doing the ceremony. And for everything else. Without your help we might not be here at all.” The cadence to his words, the accent that tinged them, was a reminder of where he’d grown up, of the life he’d lived before he’d come to the States to work for the DEA, before he’d been set up and almost killed. Ben had met him while he was on the run, offered the help Hawke needed, and forged a friendship with him.
“There’s no need to thank me. I was glad to help.”
“And I’m glad to have made a friend during a very dark time.” He smiled, his pale gaze focused on his wife.
“Are you returning to Thailand for your honeymoon?”
“We are. I want Miranda to experience it when she’s not running for her life.”
“Try to stay out of trouble this time.”
“I think my days of finding trouble are over.” He paused, glanced at the hoard of women who had converged on his bride. “Miranda is finally going to toss the flowers. Come on, let’s get closer. My wife doesn’t know it, yet, but as soon as she finishes, she’s going to be kidnapped.”
That sounded too good to miss and Ben followed along as Hawke moved toward the group. Miranda smiled at the women crowded in front of her, turned and tossed the bouquet. Squeals of excitement followed as the ladies jostled for position, the flowers flying over grasping hands and leaping bridesmaids before slapping into the chest of the only silent, motionless woman there.
Chloe.
Her hands grasped the flowers, pulled them in. Then, as if she realized what she was doing and didn’t like it, she frowned, tossing the bouquet back into the fray. More squeals followed, more grasping and clawing for possession. Chloe remained apart from it all, watching, but not really seeming to see. Ben took a step toward her, hesitated, told himself he should let her be, then ignored his own advice and crossed the space between them.
FOUR
“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen a woman catch the bouquet and throw it back.” Ben Avery’s laughter rumbled close to Chloe’s ear, pulling her from thoughts she was better off not dwelling on. Hopes, dreams, promises. All shattered and broken.
She turned to face him, glad for the distraction, though she wasn’t sure she should be. “I didn’t throw it. I tossed it.”
“Like it was a poisonous snake.” The laughter was still in his voice and, despite the warning that shouted through her mind every time she was with Ben, Chloe smiled.
“More like it was a bouquet I had no use for.” She glanced away from his steady gaze, watching as a little flower girl emerged triumphant from the crowd of wannabe brides, the bouquet clutched in her fist. “Besides, it seems to have gone to the right person.”
Ben followed the direction of her gaze and nodded. “You may be right about that, but tell me, since when do flowers have to be useful? Aren’t they simply meant to be enjoyed?”
“I suppose. But I’m not into frivolous things.” Or things that reminded her of what she’d almost had. That was more to the point, but she wasn’t going to say as much to Ben.
“Interesting.”
“What?”
“You’re not into frivolous things but you work in a flower shop.” His gaze was back on Chloe, his eyes seeming to see much more than she wanted.
To Chloe’s relief, a high-pitched shriek and excited laughter interrupted the conversation.
“Look,” Ben cupped her shoulder, urging her to turn. “Hawke told me he was going to kidnap his bride. I wasn’t sure he’d go through with it.”
But he had, the broad-shouldered, hard-faced groom, striding toward the exit with his bride in his arms, the love between the two palpable. Chloe’s chest tightened, her eyes burning. At least these two had found what they were seeking. At least one couple would have their happy ending.
For tonight anyway.
The cynical thought weaseled its way into Chloe’s mind, chasing away the softer emotions she’d been feeling. She brushed back bangs that needed a trim and stepped away from Ben, ready to make her escape. “I’m going to start cleaning things up in the sanctuary.”
“You most certainly are not.” Opal appeared at her side, a scowl pulling at the corners of her mouth. “You’re going home. I’ll take care of things here.”
“I’m not going to leave you to do all this alone.”
“Who said I’d be alone?” As she spoke a white-haired gentleman stepped up beside Opal, his hand resting on her lower back. Opal glanced back and met his eyes, then turned to Chloe. “This is Sam. He and I go back a few years.”
“A few decades, but she won’t admit it.” The older man smiled, his face creased into lines that reflected a happy, well-lived life. “Sam Riley. And you’re, Chloe. I’ve heard a good bit about you.”
“Hopefully only good things.” Sam Riley? It was a name she hadn’t heard before. That, more than anything, made her wonder just what kind of relationship he had with Opal.
“Mostly good things.” He winked, his tan, lined face filled with humor. “But I promise not to share any of the not-so-good things I heard if you’ll convince Opal to go for a walk with me after this shindig.”
“Sam Riley! That’s blackmail.” Opal’s voice mixed with Ben’s laughter, her scowl matched by his smile.
“Whatever works, doll.”
“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” But it was obvious she didn’t really mind; obvious there was something between the two. A past. Maybe even a future.
And no one deserved that more than Opal. “If you agree to go for a walk with Sam, I’ll agree to go home without an argument.”
Opal speared her with a look that would have wilted her when she was a scared ten-year-old spending the night with her grandmother’s neighbor. “And that’s blackmail, too. I thought I’d taught you’d better than that, young lady.”
“You tried.”
Opal looked like she was going to argue more, then her gaze shifted from Chloe to Ben and back again. She smiled, a speculative look in her dark eyes. “Of course, I’ll need the van and you’ll need a ride back to the shop. Ben, you don’t mind giving Chloe a ride to Blooming Baskets, do you?”
“Of course not.”
“I appreciate that, Ben, but we’ve put you out enough.” It was a desperate bid to gain control of the situation. One Chloe knew was destined to fail.
“You’re not putting me out at all.”
“Good.” Opal smiled triumphantly. “It’s all settled. We’d better get started, Sam. It’s getting colder every minute and I don’t plan on freezing just so you and I can go for a walk.” She grabbed Sam’s arm and pulled him away.
“I guess we’ve got our orders.” Ben’s hands were shoved into the pockets of his dark slacks, his profile all clean lines and chiseled angles. He would have fit just fine on the cover of GQ, his sandy hair rumpled, his strong features and easy smile enough to make any woman’s heart jump.
Any woman except for Chloe.
Her heart-jumping, pulse-pounding days of infatuation were over. Adam’s betrayal had ensured that. Still, if she’d had her camera in hand, she might have been tempted to shoot a picture, capture Ben’s rugged good looks on film.
“Trying to think of a way out of this?” Ben’s words drew her from her thoughts. She shook her head, her cheeks heating.
“Just wishing Opal hadn’t asked you to give me a ride. Like I said, you’ve already done enough.”
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” His hand closed around her elbow, the warmth of his palm sinking through the heavy fabric of her jacket as he smiled down into her eyes.
And her traitorous, hadn’t-learned-its-lesson heart skipped a beat.
She wanted to pull away, but knew that would only call attention to her discomfort, so she allowed herself to be led out into the cool fall night and across the parking lot toward the trees that edged the property. Evergreens, oaks and shadows shifted and changed as Chloe and Ben moved closer. Was there someone watching? Maybe the same someone she’d seen that morning.
Chloe tensed, the blackness of the evening pressing in around her and stealing her breath. “Where’s your car?”
“It’s at my place. Just through these trees.”
Just through the trees.
As if walking through the woods at night was nothing. As if there weren’t a million hiding places in the dense foliage, a hundred dangers that could be concealed there. Chloe tried to pick up the pace, but her throbbing leg protested, her feet tangling in thick undergrowth. She tripped, stumbling forward.
Ben tightened his hold on her elbow, pulling her back and holding her steady as she regained her balance, his warmth, his strength seeping into her and easing the terror that clawed at her throat. “Careful. There are a lot of roots and tree stumps through here.”
“It’s hard to be careful when I can’t see a thing.”
“Don’t worry. I can see well enough for both of us.” His voice was confident, his hand firm on her arm as he strode through the darkness, and for a moment Chloe allowed herself to believe she was safe, that the nightmare she’d lived was really over.
Seconds later, they were out of the woods, crossing a wide yard and heading toward a small ranch-style house. “Here we are. Home sweet home.”
“It’s cute.”
“That’s what people keep telling me.”
“You don’t think so?”
“Cute isn’t my forte, but my wife, Theresa, probably would have enjoyed hearing the word over and over again. Unfortunately, she passed away a year before I finished seminary and never got a chance to see the place.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.”
“You must miss her.”
“I do. She had cystic fibrosis and was really sick at the end. I knew I had to let her go, but it was still the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
Chloe understood that. Despite anger and bitterness over Adam’s unfaithfulness, she still mourned his loss, and desperately wished she could have saved him. She imagined that years from now she’d feel the same, grieving his death and all that might have been. “I understand.”
“You’ve lost someone close to you?” He pulled the car door open, and gestured for her to get in, his gaze probing hers.
“My fiancé.” Ex-fiancé, but Chloe didn’t say as much. “He died eleven months ago.”
“Then I guess you do know.” He waited until she slid into the car, then shut the door and walked around to the driver’s side. “Had you known each other long?”
“Three years. We were supposed to be married this past June.” But things had gone horribly wrong even before the accident and they’d cancelled the wedding a month before Adam’s death.
“Then today’s wedding must have been tough.”
Chloe shrugged, not wanting to acknowledge even to herself just how tough it had been. Dreams. Hopes. Promises. The day had been built on the fairy tale of happily-ever-after and watching it unfold had made Chloe long for what she knew was only an illusion. “Not as hard as it would have been a few months ago.”
“That’s the thing about time. It doesn’t heal the wounds, but it does make them easier to bear.” He smiled into her eyes before he started the car’s engine, the curve of his lips, the electricity in his gaze, doing exactly what Chloe didn’t want it to—making her heart jump and her pulse leap, whispering that if she wasn’t careful she’d end up being hurt again.
FIVE
It was close to seven when Chloe pulled her Mustang up to the Victorian that housed her apartment. Built on a hill, it offered a view of water and mountains, sky and grassland, the wide front porch and tall, gabled windows perfect for taking in the scenery. When Opal had brought her to look at the place the previous week, Chloe had been intrigued by the exterior. Walking through the cheery one-bedroom apartment Opal’s friend had been renting out, seeing its hardwood floors and Victorian trim, modern kitchen and old-fashioned claw-foot tub, had sealed the deal. She knew she wanted to live there.
Unlike so many other places she’d lived in, this one felt like home.
Tonight though, it looked sinister. The windows dark, the lonely glow of the porch light doing nothing to chase away the blackness. Her car was the only one in the long driveway and Chloe’s gaze traveled the length of the house, the edges of the yard, the stands of trees and clumps of bushes, searching for signs of danger. There were none, but that didn’t make her feel better. She knew just how quickly quiet could turn to chaos, safety to danger.
She also knew she couldn’t stay in the car waiting for one of the other tenants to return home or for daylight to come.
She stepped out of the car, jogging toward the house, her pulse racing as something slithered in the darkness to her right. A squirrel searching for fall harvest? A deer hoping for still-green foliage?
Or something worse?
Her heart slammed against her ribs as she took the porch steps two at a time. The front door was unlocked, left that way by one of the other tenants, and Chloe shoved it open, stumbling across the threshold and into the foyer, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end, her nerves screaming a warning.
Shut the door. Turn the lock. Get in the apartment.
The lock turned under her trembling fingers, her bad leg nearly buckling as she ran up the stairs to her apartment. She shoved the key into the lock, swung the door open. Slammed it shut again.
Safe.
Her heart slowed. Her gasping terror-filled breaths eased. Everything was fine. There was nothing outside that she needed to fear. Even if there was, she was locked in the house, locked in her apartment.
A loud bang sounded from somewhere below, and Chloe jumped, her fear back and clawing up her throat.
The back door.
The realization hit as the step at the bottom of the stairs creaked, the telltale sound sending Chloe across the room. She grabbed the phone, dialed 911, her heart racing so fast it felt as though it would burst from her chest.
Blackness threatened, panic stealing her breath and her oxygen, but Chloe refused to let it have her, forcing herself to breath deeply. To take action.
She grabbed a butcher knife from the kitchen, her gaze on the door, her eyes widening with horror as the old-fashioned glass knob began to turn.
Chloe clutched the phone in one hand and the knife in the other, praying the lock would hold and wondering if passing out might be better than facing whatever was on the other side of the door.
Ben Avery bounced a redheaded toddler on his knee, and smiled at his friend, Sheriff Jake Reed, who was cradling a dark-haired infant. “I’m thinking we may be able to go fishing again in twenty-one years.”
“You’re going next weekend.” Tiffany Reed strode into the room, her red hair falling around her shoulders in wild waves. Three weeks after having her second child, she looked as vivacious and lovely as ever. “Jake needs a break.”
“From what?” Jake stood, laid the baby in a bassinet and wrapped his arms around his wife. “This is where I want to be.”
“I know that, but Ben’s made two week’s worth of meals for us. It’s time for you to take him out to thank him.”
Ben stood, the little girl in his arms giggling as he tickled her belly. “I made the meals because I wanted to. I don’t need any thanks.”
“Of course you don’t, but you and Jake are still going fishing next weekend. Right, honey?”
Jake met Ben’s eyes, shrugged and smiled. “I guess we are. What time?”
Before Ben could reply, Jake’s cell phone rang. He glanced at the number. “Work. I’d better take it.”
Tiffany pulled her daughter from Ben’s arms, shushing the still-giggling child and carrying her from the room.
Ben made himself comfortable, settling back onto the sofa and waiting while Jake answered the phone. Whatever was happening couldn’t be good if Jake was being called in.
“Reed here. Right. Give me the address.” He jotted something down on a piece of paper. “Davidson?”
At the name, Ben straightened, an image of straight black hair and emerald eyes flashing through his mind.
“Okay. Keep her on the phone. I’ll be there in ten.” Jake hung up, grabbed a jacket from the closet.
“You said Davidson?”
“Yeah. Lady living out on the lake in the Richard’s place is reporting an intruder in the house. My men are tied up at an accident outside of town, so I’m going to take the call.”
“Did you get a first name?”
“Chloe.”
“I’m coming with you.”
Jake raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, that’s not the way it works.”
“It is this time. I’ll stay in the squad car until you clear things, but I’m coming.”
“Since I don’t have time to argue or ask questions, we’ll do it your way.”
It took only seconds for Jake to say goodbye to his family, but those seconds seemed like a lifetime to Ben, every one of them another opportunity for whoever was in the house with Chloe to harm her. As they climbed into the cruiser and sped toward the lake, Ben could only pray that she’d be safe until he and Jake arrived.
Sirens sounded in the distance and Chloe backed toward the window that overlooked the front door, her gaze still fixed on the glass knob. It hadn’t turned again, but she was expecting it to and wondering what she’d do if or when the door crashed open.
“Chloe? Are you still there?” The woman on the other end of the line sounded as scared as Chloe felt.
“Yes.” She glanced out the window, saw a police cruiser pull up to the house, lights flashing, sirens blaring. “The police are here. I’m going to hang up.”
“Don’t—”
But Chloe was already disconnecting, tossing the phone and knife onto the couch and hurrying toward the door. The stairs creaked, footsteps pounded on wooden steps and a fist slammed against the door. “Ms. Davidson? Sheriff Jake Reed. Are you okay?”
“Fine.” She pulled the door open, stepping back as a tall, hard-faced man strode in, a gun in his hand.
“Good. I’m going to escort you to my car. I want you to stay there until I’m finished in here.”
“Finished?”
“Making sure whoever was here isn’t still hanging around.”
Still hanging around?
Chloe didn’t like the sound of that and hurried down the stairs and outside, the crisp fall air making her shiver. Or maybe it was fear that had her shaking.
“I won’t be long. Stay in the car until I come back out. I don’t want to mistake you for the intruder.”
“And I don’t want to be out here alone.” She might not like the idea of someone being in the house, but she liked the idea of staying outside by herself even less.
“Then it’s good you don’t have to be.” As he spoke a figure stepped out of the cruiser. Tall, broad-shouldered and moving with lithe and silent grace.
Chloe knew who it was immediately, her visceral response announcing his name, her betraying heart leaping in acknowledgement. “Ben, what are you doing here?”
“How about we discuss it in the cruiser?” He wrapped an arm around her waist and hurried her down the steps. Strong, solid, dependable in a way Adam had never been. The comparison didn’t sit well with Chloe. Noticing how different Ben was from the man she’d once loved was something she shouldn’t be doing.
“Climb in.” He held the cruiser door open for her, then slid in himself, his knee nudging her leg, his arm brushing hers.
She scooted back against the door, doing her best to ignore the scent of pine needles and soap that drifted on the air, but he leaned in close, his jaw tight, his face much harder than it had seemed earlier. “Are you okay?”
“Just scared.”
“Jake said someone was inside the house with you. Did he make it into your apartment?”
“No, but it looked like he was trying to get in.” She shuddered, watching as the lights in the attic area of the Victorian flicked on.
“Did you see the person?”
“I saw something before I went in the house, but if it was a person, I couldn’t tell. There was no way I was going to open the apartment door to take a look.”
“I’m glad you didn’t. That would have been a bad idea.” The porch light flicked off, then on again, and Ben pushed open the car door. “That’s Jake’s all clear. Ready to go back inside?”
“Of course.” But she wasn’t really. Sitting in the car with Ben seemed a lot safer than stepping back into the darkness.
He rounded the car, pulled open her door and offered a hand. “It’ll be okay, Chloe. Whoever it was is long gone.”
Chloe nodded, not trusting herself to speak, afraid anything she said would be filled with the panic and paranoia that had chased her from D.C. Nightmares. Terror. The feeling of being watched, of being stalked. She’d been plagued with all of them since being released from the hospital nine months ago. Post-traumatic stress. That’s what the doctors said. That’s what the police said. Given enough time, Ben and Jake would probably say the same.
She braced herself as she stepped back into the house, sure that Jake would tell her he’d found nothing, that her mind had been playing tricks on her, that nothing had happened. She was only partially right.
Jake seemed convinced that something had happened, but his list of evidence was slim—an unlocked back door, a smudge of dirt on the back deck that might have been a footprint, fingerprints that might have belonged to the intruder, but more likely belonged to someone who lived in the house.
“We’ll get prints of the other tenants. See if I’ve picked up anything that doesn’t belong to one of you. Can you come to the station Monday?”
“I’ve got to work, but I’m sure Opal will give me the time off.”
“Good. In the meantime, keep the doors locked and don’t take unnecessary risks. I’m thinking this is probably a kid playing a prank or hoping to find some quick cash, but you never know.”
“No, you don’t.” Chloe shifted her weight, trying to ease the ache in her leg, trying to convince herself that the sheriff was right and that what had just happened had nothing to do with her former life.
