The teenagers passed and, sure enough, there was Chris. She heaved an exasperated sigh. “What are you doing here?”
“My assistant manager is getting married Saturday, and I had to buy a gift.” He held up a large department-store bag with a bulky box inside.
She put her hands on her hips and nailed him with a stern gaze. “You knew we were going to be here, and don’t try to deny it.”
“You said the mall. You didn’t say which mall.”
“Knowing this is the only mall within thirty minutes of Harmony Grove, I’m sure it wasn’t hard to figure out.”
He broke into a teasing grin. “Hey, I really did have a wedding gift to buy. But you can’t blame me for checking on you every chance I get.”
“As you can see, I’m fine.” She began moving toward the exit.
“Let me follow you home. It’s late.”
She tensed. “I don’t need you to follow me. I’m dropping BethAnn off, then going straight from the car to the house. I’ll be fine.”
“I won’t stay,” he argued. “I just want to make sure you get in okay.”
“I said I’ll be fine.” She spaced out the words, not even trying to keep the annoyance out of her tone. She had agreed to an occasional phone call. Everything else was getting on her last nerve.
BethAnn held up an index finger. “I’m going to hit the restroom before we head out.”
Melissa turned back to Chris. “I don’t need you hovering over me.”
“I’m only doing this because I’m worried about you.” His voice was low, its smooth timbre like warm oil over her frayed nerves. He stared down at her, concern flowing from his eyes, and she turned away. She didn’t want him to care, didn’t want to see the warmth in that dark gaze. But there it was, reaching out to her, touching something deep inside. And for just a moment, she felt cherished.
Then he continued. “I can’t help it. It’s in my blood. You’ve got some nutcase stalking you, and coming home alone at night isn’t safe.”
His words brought her up short. Of course it was in his blood—stamped into him through months at the academy and years on the force. His concern for her was the same as it was for any woman he was sworn to protect. No more, no less.
She turned away, defenses still intact, and began walking down the corridor. “I’m fine. It was one stupid little note, almost a week ago. You’re overreacting.”
“I’m not overreacting. You’re in danger and choosing to ignore it. What if the notes and gifts are from Eugene? What if he’s found you and is getting some kind of sick thrill out of tormenting you? And what happens when that isn’t enough anymore? What will he do then?”
Cold tendrils of fear slithered through her at his words, wrapping their icy grip around her heart. She shook her head. “No, it’s not Eugene. He couldn’t have found me. I took too many precautions.”
She suddenly stopped walking and stood stock-still, a chill sweeping over her for an entirely different reason. “You said Eugene. How do you know his name?”
Something almost imperceptible flashed across his features, visible only in a slight widening of his eyes and a twitch of his lips. But it didn’t light there long. A nanosecond later, the mask of control was firmly back in place. “You told me, remember?”
“I told you I had been stalked. I didn’t tell you his name.” She studied him, eyes narrowed. “You had me checked out. You used your connections to get information about me.”
“I had to know what kind of danger you were in, but you wouldn’t talk to me. Melissa, I’m sorry.”
He reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, but she jerked away before he could make contact. “Don’t touch me.”
Next to her, a worker lowered a metal gate, shutting down her store for the night. Others began to follow suit, and Melissa stalked away, the rattle and scrape of metal closing in on her from both sides. She maintained a fast, furious walk, wishing she could just hit the door and keep running—away from the constant fear that Eugene was going to find her, and away from the oppressive overprotectiveness of Chris. He was smothering her. And he had violated her privacy. She wouldn’t tell him when he first asked, so he got the information his own way.
Within moments, he was again beside her. “Melissa, please don’t be angry. I’m trying to protect you.”
“I don’t want your protection. I want you to leave me alone.” She skidded to a stop. “You had no business digging into my personal affairs.”
“Okay, I shouldn’t have done that. I should have waited until you were ready to tell me. I made a mistake. So how long are you going to refuse help?”
Another gate rattled downward, and a young couple overtook them, glancing back as they passed. She lowered her voice to an angry hiss. “As long as it takes. Eventually you’ll go back to your own life and stay out of mine.”
She spun away from him and stalked back in the direction from which they had come. BethAnn was up ahead, moving slowly toward them.
“I don’t know if I’ll be leaving.” The words came from somewhere behind her. “I might just decide to stay here.”
She stopped and whirled to face him. Surely he wasn’t serious. For several moments she studied him. Finally she shrugged. “Do what you want. Just stop hounding me.”
“I hope your stubbornness doesn’t get you killed.” He turned and walked away, down the corridor, out the door and into the night.
Now maybe he would quit bothering her. She didn’t want his help. She had taken care of herself since she was nine years old. She was used to it.
So why did she feel so totally alone?
“I take it that didn’t go well.”
She started at BethAnn’s voice so close to her ear. “He had me checked out. Before I even told him about Eugene, he already knew.”
“He could probably tell something was up and wanted to find out what.” Her tone was nonchalant. Of course, BethAnn wasn’t the one whose privacy had been invaded. “You know,” she added, “he’s really worried about you.”
“It’s professional concern, nothing more. He’s a cop. It’s in his blood.” He even said so.
“I’ve seen the way he looks at you. What he’s feeling is a lot more than professional concern.”
“You’re seeing things that aren’t there.” She stepped into the night air and briskly rubbed her arms. As promised, a cool front had provided temporary relief from the oppressive heat. With the sun down and the erratic breezes, it was almost chilly.
BethAnn put one hand on her hip. The other held her purchases. “And I suppose you’re going to deny that you feel anything for him, too.”
“What I feel is irrelevant. It would never work.”
“Why not?”
“Besides the fact that he blames me for our breakup? He slept with Adrianne.”
“If you believe Adrianne. Personally, I have my doubts.”
A blast of cool air swept through the parking lot, and a shiver shook her shoulders. Maybe Adrianne was lying. But it didn’t matter. She didn’t do second chances. “I know what I saw. Besides, he doesn’t trust me any more than I trust him. And you can’t have a relationship without trust.”
She slid into the driver’s seat and slammed the door, shutting out the chilly night breeze. If only her thoughts could be closed off so easily. “Chris is thinking of staying.”
BethAnn stopped midmovement, right arm stretched across her lap, clutching the seat belt buckle. “Permanently?”
“I guess. He said he might not go back to Memphis.” She rested her elbows against the steering wheel and put her head in her hands. “If he stays, I don’t know what I’ll do. What’s kept me going these past few weeks is knowing he’ll soon be gone.”
BethAnn reached across the car to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “You’ll mak
e it. If you guys are supposed to be together, God will help you navigate the obstacles. And if you’re not... Well, God will help you get through that, too.”
“I wish I had your faith.”
“You don’t need mine. You’ve got your own. Give it time. Pray about it and listen for answers.”
She nodded slowly. She had been praying. But her prayers had consisted of pleas to help her survive his remaining weeks in Florida. And that was as far as she was willing to go.
When she reached Harmony Grove, stores were dark and streets were almost empty. The soft glow emanating from the curtained windows of the homes projected a cozy sense of warmth. She eased to a stop in BethAnn’s driveway, and the front door swung inward. Kevin stood silhouetted in the opening.
“Does he watch for you the whole time you’re gone?”
A goofy smile spread across BethAnn’s face, that same silly grin that appeared every time she thought of Kevin. “Probably.”
Melissa smiled, too. She was happy for BethAnn, even if her own prospects for love were a mess. She shook her head and backed onto the deserted street. Chris couldn’t really be thinking of staying. His life was in Memphis. There was nothing for him in Florida except his father’s marine store.
And her.
But that was ridiculous. He didn’t want a relationship with her. Of course, BethAnn thought otherwise. But BethAnn was a hopeless romantic, seeing sparks where there were none.
Even if BethAnn was right, she wasn’t interested. The memory of him in the arms of Adrianne would always be a dark, ugly stain, marring any chance they might have for happiness. What happened happened. And nothing was going to change it. Entertaining impossible dreams was a waste of time. So was crying over spilled milk.
With a sigh, she put her foot on the brake and turned onto Shadowood Lane. The long road was dark, the houses too distant to ease the feeling of seclusion. There was no moon, not even a sliver, and night hung heavy and thick. Her headlights cut a narrow swath through the darkness, temporarily holding it at bay. Then it rolled back in, pressing from all sides, swallowing her as she passed. Eventually, asphalt gave way to gravel, a chalky path through a field of obsidian.
Until six months ago, darkness didn’t bother her. Neither did seclusion. Back then she would have gladly traded apartment living for quiet, peaceful nights, the nearest neighbor five hundred feet away. Back then she took security for granted.
She reached for the door handle, then hesitated, reluctant to leave the safety of her car. The porch light was on, but it wasn’t much consolation—the semicircular glow barely reached beyond the porch steps. If only she could enter through the garage and avoid this whole trek up the walkway. Replacing the garage door with sliding glass doors had been a dumb idea.
She cast a final glance into the darkness and climbed from the car. The night was eerily still. The crickets had ceased their song, and the breezes that had chilled her thirty minutes earlier had moved past, leaving a deathly pall in their wake. She darted up the sidewalk, unable to shake the feeling that someone waited a short distance away, cloaked in darkness.
As she stepped onto the porch, a chill swept over her, prickling the skin on the back of her neck. An envelope was taped to the front door, her name across its front in familiar block print. With suddenly clumsy fingers, she snatched it from the door and jammed the key into the lock. The next moment, the shrubs against the house rustled. Strength drained from her like water, turning her limbs to gelatin. The fear nibbling at her insides threatened to explode into full-blown panic. One more lock. She had to get inside.
There was another rustle. Extended. Coming closer. Something—or someone—was moving through the bushes.
Dear God, help me!
She jammed the key into the upper lock and turned. It stuck for a fraction of a second. Then the dead bolt slid. She reached for the doorknob, hands shaking and heart pounding in her throat. A few more seconds...
A feline screech pierced the still night, and two cats charged from the bushes and disappeared into the darkness, one chasing the other. She stumbled into the foyer, squelching the scream rising in her throat. It was only Mrs. Johnson’s cats. No one was after her. She leaned against the locked door for several moments, eyes closed and breath coming in short gasps. When she opened her eyes, Smudge peered at her from the living room doorway. She picked him up and offered several reassuring strokes down his back, allowing the last of the tension to drain from her body.
The cat incident was easy to ignore. The envelope in her hand wasn’t. She put Smudge on the floor and ripped the seal, torn between curiosity over what was inside and the desire to remain blissfully ignorant. It was a single page, folded in thirds, filled with the same bold, black print as the earlier letter.
Melissa, my sweetheart. My world is a roller coaster watching you come and go. You leave, and mournful gray clouds overshadow the sky. You return, and the sun shines again.
I won’t ask if you enjoyed the flowers. I know what you did. You gave them away. Your rejection of my carefully chosen gift breaks my heart. I will keep working to win your love, and someday you will feel as I do. Then we will run away to our own private paradise. Until then, I will love you from afar.
She dropped the page onto the Bombay chest and clutched the doorjamb for support. She was definitely being stalked. Now there was no denying it. This unnamed someone didn’t just know what time she went to bed last Friday night. He saw her take the flowers to Mrs. Johnson and had been watching her come and go ever since.
One possibility sat solidly in her mind. Dennis. From his vantage point, he could see everything without even leaving his room. Each time she turned on her bedroom light, then turned it off to retire for the night. Every visit to his grandmother. Saturday evening she paraded the bouquet of roses right past him, not giving it a second thought.
And all the while he watched from upstairs.
Bile filled her stomach and tried to push its way up her throat. It was happening again. She had fled Atlanta to escape one stalker, only to fall prey to another. She should go to the police, then proceed with getting a restraining order. It wouldn’t end until she did.
And sometimes it didn’t end then.
She removed her phone from her purse, but couldn’t bring herself to dial the three numbers.
What if she was wrong?
What if she accused Dennis and then found out it was someone else?
* * *
Chris walked into his office and settled behind the scuffed oak desk. Melissa had slipped in and out of his thoughts all day, and he was no less annoyed with himself at midafternoon than he had been that morning. How could he have let Eugene’s name slip? He knew she would be furious. And her reaction was just what he expected. She wanted nothing more to do with him.
And that left him feeling oddly bereft.
His visits with her had become the high point of his day. Without even realizing it, his goal had gradually shifted from simply protecting her to something much more. She was unwittingly winding her way right back into his heart, and he wasn’t ready for his time with her to end. Eventually it would have to. Eventually he would go back to his life in Memphis, and she would continue hers in Harmony Grove. When that time came, he wanted everything to be all right between them.
Tonight he would call her. And he would do whatever it took to make amends, not just for his invasion of her privacy, but for all the mistakes he made five years ago. It was time to say the things that needed to be said, to tell her why he believed the worst, why he made his accusations that night. It wouldn’t excuse what he did. But she would finally know what was behind his mistrust.
Derrick poked his head through the open doorway, interrupting his thoughts. “There’s a call for accounts payable on line one. With Donna gone, I guess that’s you.”
Not for long. He had done tw
o interviews that morning. The first candidate hadn’t impressed him at all. He didn’t expect a business suit, but jeans, a tank top and flip-flops didn’t exactly scream professional. Neither did the big wad of gum that she popped as a prequel to every answer.
The second applicant, though, had been just the ticket. Karen was proficient, professional and had one hundred times the personality of Donna, which was good since he had made the position full-time and included counter sales. She was available to start Monday, which would be none too soon. He had set up online banking and printed the last six months of checks and bank statements. But after two hours of wading through handwritten notes scrawled onto journal pages, he had given up.
He took the phone from Derrick and put it to his ear. And the next two minutes went from bad to worse as he learned of one unpaid invoice after another, going back ninety days. What started as a small knot of uneasiness in his gut rapidly evolved into a cannonball.
“You’ve been a good customer,” she explained, “but I’m afraid all future orders will have to be C.O.D. until these past-due invoices are paid.”
He asked her to fax them and promised to pay as soon as possible. Then he hung up the phone and slouched in the chair. If Donna had simply stopped paying their most important vendor, how many others had she failed to pay? Just how serious a financial mess was he in?
Suddenly he sat up straight, decision made. Until that moment, it was just an idea niggling at the back of his mind, easy to ignore. Now it screamed at him, demanding his attention. And he knew without a doubt what he would do.
The store was his father’s legacy, what he had worked for all his life. Walking away now felt like turning his back on the old man. And he just couldn’t do it.
He opened the desk drawer and began fishing for a card he had placed there. He had some calls to make. Before the afternoon was over, Lakeland would have one less business for sale. And Memphis would be short a detective.
Midnight Shadows (Love Inspired Suspense) Page 8
