by D. D. Ayres
Carly’s attention snapped back to Shay’s. “Ah, look. You’re getting all protective.” She put out a hand to touch Shay’s arm but Shay drew back, halting the gesture.
Ignoring the rebuff, Carly continued grinning. “I’m just admiring, honey. He’s all yours.”
“Right.” Shay let her gaze remain on the woman a moment longer.
When she turned away, she felt as if a hummingbird were trapped inside her chest. She’d just stared down a woman who was thinking about poaching her boyfriend.
Oh my God! She really had officially reached “my man” status.
Shay saw the doors to the bar kitchen swing open on her right and a huge tray of food emerge. She heard a waiter behind her call, “Coming through— Aw, fuck!” Then things went sideways.
Shay was bumped from behind and stumbled against a customer’s chair as an icy cascade of beer and glassware came flowing over her left shoulder. It soaked her hair, her blouse, the man whose chair she’d fallen against, and splashed every other diner at that table.
* * *
“I’m sure whatever beer is left will come out in the wash.”
Angie was holding Shay’s shirt under the hand dryer in the restroom while Shay tried to rinse the beer out of her hair at the sink. “Who was that woman at the bar?”
Shay grabbed for a handful of paper towels to squeeze the water out of her hair. “Someone I met last week.”
“Dry enough.” Angie shook out Shay’s shirt. “She certainly is pushy.”
Shay straightened up. “What do you mean?”
“She came into the office Monday. Said she needed a job and would Perry consider hiring her because you had recommended her.”
Shay went still inside. “What did he say?”
“That’s all I heard. I know he didn’t hire her.”
Anxiety bounded in and leaped on Shay, leaving her staggering around in her thoughts. She was still being followed.
Shay glanced back at the empty stalls to be sure they were alone. “Is she still out there?”
“No, she left as soon as you took that suds bath.” Angie handed Shay her shirt. “You ready for a second beer?”
Shay shook her head stiffly. “My headache’s back. I need to go home.” She pulled her shirt over her wet head. “But you and Henry stay.”
“If you’re sure?”
Shay nodded absently, wondering what that woman could possibly want. Was Carly trying to get information about her for Eric? Was she the stalker he’d hired? Wait, no. That was a man’s voice.
Her headache kicked up a notch as anxiety dug deep claws into her. “I—I need to go home and—”
Angie leaned in. “Say, you don’t look so good. Want me to drive you?”
“No. You guys need a little together time. It’s your first official date.” She was surprised she managed a smile. “I’m really happy for you both.”
Angie beamed. “I know. I’ve liked him for like forever, but did he notice?”
“He has now.”
* * *
Every nerve was on full alert by the time Shay turned into her apartment complex. Why would Eric have anyone stalking her after she had confessed everything to Cadwallader Jones?
Her head hurt, worse than before. She’d checked her rearview mirror so many times her eyes had whiplash. Not that she’d know if anyone was following her. It was dark. The cars in her rear-view were shadowy blurs behind their headlights. All she wanted was to get to the safety of her locked door so she could wait for James’s call.
She passed several lanes within the large complex of apartments and town houses. She lived toward the back. As she turned into her lane she thought she saw someone standing in the shadow of the stairwell that led to a block of upstairs apartments. There were always people coming and going, she reminded herself. Nothing extraordinary.
But her anxious mind kicked into high gear and wouldn’t let go of the sight.
Never wavering from gauging the man’s movements, she moved slowly down the lane to find her designated parking space. As she did so, the man reached the sidewalk right in front of her. He was wearing a jacket with the hood pulled up against the chill. And he carried a bundle under one arm.
As she turned into her spot, he suddenly stopped, pivoted, and ran past her, tossing something at her rear passenger wheel.
Shay slammed on the brake but it was too late. She heard the terrible screech of an animal in pain and then silence.
She scrambled out of her car. What had she run over? It made an awful sound. It must be—
“Oh … no!” A long-haired cat lay crushed beneath her rear wheel. She recognized it as belonging to a neighbor, though it was rarely allowed out.
A neighbor came up beside her. “I heard a noise. What happened? Ohhh. That’s the Sanderses’ cat.”
Shay straightened up. “There was a man.” She swung around straining in the dark for a glimpse of the figure but he had disappeared.
“What are you talking about?”
She turned back. “There was a man. Standing there.” She pointed to the sidewalk. “I saw him as I turned into my space. He threw the cat under my car.”
“I see.” The woman backed up a step. “I’ll just go ring the Sanderses’ bell.”
“Yes.” Shay turned and pushed her hips against the rear passenger door, as if to defend her back as she searched the dark. Who would do—no, why would anyone do such a thing?
The Sanderses’ father came running, with his daughter right behind him.
When he reached Shay, his face was a mix of trepidation and anger. “What happened?”
Shay heaved a shaky breath. “There was a man. He was on the sidewalk as I turned into my space. He ran past and threw the cat under my wheel.”
“Oh, Daddy! Gandalf!” The girl’s shriek of pain stabbed through Shay’s thoughts.
Gandalf. The wise wizard. Shay felt even worse.
The father turned and grabbed her to his middle, pressing her face away from the sight. “It’s okay, sugar. It’s okay.” His voice was tender for his daughter but the expression on his face when he turned his head to Shay was anything but.
Shay shook her head, her hands rising in protest of the rage on his face. “There was a man.”
“Who would do something like that?”
“I don’t— Someone.” It was a hollow finish.
“Come on, lady. You killed my daughter’s pet. You obviously weren’t looking where you were going. At least show her how a grown-up owns up to something that’s her fault.”
Shay glanced at the crying girl. The bottom dropped out of her stomach. “I’m so sorry. I really am. I couldn’t stop. It all happened so fast.”
The father ignored her and picked up his crying child.
“But there really was someone. He caused me to do it.”
“Do I smell beer?” He took a step toward Shay and she instinctively backed up. “You’ve been drinking!”
“Just one. That smell, a waiter spilled a tray of beers on me.”
“You’re drunk!” The expression on his face changed. It was worse than anger. Contempt. Disgust. Fury. “You’re lucky I don’t call the police. Driving drunk. Killing children’s pets. You’re disgusting!”
“I’m not drunk.”
He adjusted his child higher in his embrace. “Come on, sweetheart. I’ll come back and get Gandalf later.”
“I’m not drunk!” Shay took a step toward them. “And I didn’t—I couldn’t…”
He stiff-armed her out of his path. “Keep away from us or I’ll call the cops!”
“The nerve of some people.” The do-gooder neighbor followed him back toward his door. “Wouldn’t even take responsibility. I saw it. Saw it all.”
Shay stopped herself from following, biting her lip in frustration as she met the eyes of the few curious residents who had approached to see what the argument was about. They dispersed quickly.
There was no use in continuing to protest that it wasn’t her fault. She’d
seen the look on Mr. Sanders’s face. If she pursued it, he would call the police. And they would not believe her, either.
She’d had a beer. She smelled of beer. Her car ran over the cat. The fact that it didn’t happen the way it sounded wasn’t going to bring the kitty back.
Accused, tried, and found guilty, again. The situation was ugly and familiar. No one knew or wanted to know the truth.
Yet she did. That man had deliberately made her kill that poor cat. And he was still out there in the dark.
Hugging an arm to her queasy middle, Shay swung around, panic seizing and holding her in place as her eyes searched every shadow for the sight of the man who had done this. Was he watching her from behind some bush? Had he heard every word? Was that what he wanted, to start trouble with her neighbors? Why?
Shay captured a sob before it could escape. Whatever the reason, she’d given him a bonus by having been the victim of a beer shampoo.
A new thought struck her, one that unglued her shoes from the pavement and sent her running like a frightened child for her door.
The man and Carly from the bar might be working together.
Maybe they weren’t done yet.
She needed help. She needed James.
As she approached her apartment she spotted something on her door, a note. The note simply said “YOU.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The sight of a sheriff at her door an hour later mustered only mild surprise. The owner of the cat must have called them about the death of Gandalf, after all.
Shay took her time unlocking her locks. She had showered, brushed and gargled, put on fresh clothes, washed her beer-soaked ones. She opened her door a crack with the chain still on, her gaze unwelcoming. “Yes?”
“Are you—” He paused to glance at the envelope in his hand. “Ms. Shayla Denise Appleton?”
Shay blinked. Very few people knew her full legal name. “Why?”
He pushed his hat back with a hand, his expression still bland. “Are you Ms. Appleton?”
“Yes.”
“This is for you.” He inserted a manila envelope through the narrow space of the open door.
Shay didn’t reach for it. “What is that?”
He didn’t answer, just held it there.
When she took it, he touched his hat in salute and backed off. “You have been served a summons. Good evening, Ms. Appleton.”
Shay held the envelope in two fingers. Every sense was telling her it wasn’t good news. She carried it over to the table where the paper with the word “YOU” had been dropped. It didn’t take her long to figure out that the sign referred to the crushed cat. It was an ugly threat and more direct than any of the others.
She went back to her sofa and picked up her phone, then reread James’s text for the tenth time.
We need to talk. I’ll call late.
She desperately needed to hear a friendly voice.
She had texted him two hours ago, after the cat incident, but there’d been no reply.
She hadn’t expected him to stay in touch during the week. She’d even told him not to bother to call, because she didn’t want to be disappointed if he forgot. Yet he’d texted Good night each evening about ten P.M. It was ten-fifteen.
She dropped the phone in her lap and let her gaze stray back to the table. A summons. She wasn’t certain what a summons was. Something to do with Halifax Bank, probably. Or Eric.
Possibilities shot through her like an electric current. What if Eric was suing her for slander? She’d need to hire a lawyer to defend herself. She didn’t have that kind of money. Couldn’t even afford to get her car door painted. Still, she should know what she was facing.
She opened the envelope, unfolded the sheets, and read a few lines. It was a copy of a complaint and the summons. It stated that she was listed as the defendant in a civil suit. She was being sued for false accusations and for defamation of character.
Of course she was. That was all there was left to happen in her life. The only amazing thing was how quickly Eric, or Halifax Bank, had filed a petition with the court. There must be a VIP lane in court for bankers like Mr. Cadwallader Jones.
She flipped through the rest of the paperwork without any real curiosity, yet mild surprise bubbled through her when at the bottom of the final page she saw the plaintiff’s name. Jaylynn Marjorie Turner. Who was that?
She went to her desk and opened her computer and typed in the name.
Shay sat down with a thump as the images appeared. Images of Jaylynn Turner turned out to be plentiful. And in every one the face of the woman who had brought Bogart in to be put down was staring back at her.
Stunned, Shay switched to reading articles.
Jaylynn Turner was a TV personality in Charlotte. She had plenty of other titles. Miss North Carolina Petite, Junior Miss Charlotte, winner in the North Carolina Perfect Pageant, and runner-up of Miss North Carolina.
None of those titles were as impressive as the fact that Shay recognized her as the woman who had brought Bogart in to be destroyed.
She skimmed a few more articles, including the most recent one, less than a week old, where Ms. Turner claimed to have been a victim of a cruel hoax by parties yet to be determined.
Shay glanced over at the summons in disbelief.
“But that’s crazy!” She had done nothing, didn’t know the woman from Adam, except for the fact that she walked in on a day when Shay had been volunteering at the local animal shelter.
Shay read through that last article again, looking for clues to the hoax Jaylynn claimed had been played on her. There were none. In fact, there was a very noticeable absence of details. Leading a cohost at a competing network to comment in print, “Let’s hope this isn’t one of those attention-grabbing stunts. We are, after all, in the midst of November sweeps.”
“I can’t believe this,” Shay murmured. How had Jaylynn found her? She wasn’t easy to find. Even James said— Of course! James had filed a report. That report would be public record, and that’s how Jaylynn knew how to find her.
Shay searched the Web for the Charlotte-Mecklenburg police blotter. It took her nearly five minutes to read through all the public records of crimes in the Charlotte newspapers for the past two weeks. There was nothing about Bogart, or his return, or actions filed against Jaylynn Turner.
Shay sat back and hugged her arms to her body. Maybe this was a mistake. It would all just go away.
The bump of relief lasted no longer than it took her gaze to settle on the summons again. She was being sued. That was very real.
“That’s crazy.” Shay said the words aloud to make them real.
What made Jaylynn think she could accuse her of anything? Being a finger-pointer was the very last thing she needed in her life these days. Not after her accusations against Eric. No way would she agree to be a witness in another case. In fact, no one in Charlotte knew who she was.
Except James.
Something cold and heavy and ugly sank down through her.
James had told her he’d had her investigated for details he needed to complete the police report on Bogart’s return. Why hadn’t he warned her about Jaylynn’s intentions? Or, was he using her information to get back at his ex?
Other dark thoughts swarmed through her head like a colony of bats leaving their cave. For several dark minutes she let that sense of betrayal and anguish snatch her up and carry her along in a flurry of self-pity and desolation. The dark flight was familiar.
But at the end of that very long, scary flight, Shay wasn’t decimated. She wasn’t soul-scorched. She was angry.
Maybe James didn’t know about the civil suit. No, of course he knew. This didn’t just materialize overnight. He must have known what Jaylynn Turner was up to before he left Charlotte. It was in all the news accounts she just read online. Why hadn’t he warned her?
Shay grabbed her phone and dialed James. This time he answered. She didn’t give him time to say hello.
“You lowdown, lying
rat bastard!”
“You got the summons.” He didn’t even sound surprised by her anger. “I’m sorry. I wanted to call sooner—” His voice sounded muffled. “Hold on.”
Shay closed her eyes, her heart beating as quickly as if she’d run a mile. She’d trusted him with so much—no, everything. How could he do this?
“Okay. This is better.” His voice sounded normal, happy even. “I was in the kennel putting Bogart up. We just finished a night course. You’ll be really happy to hear that he took first place overall.”
“Don’t! Just don’t!” She didn’t want to hear happy news. She was too furious for any kind of happy to leak through. “You lied to me! You said you’d take care of things. You did that, didn’t you? Only you took care of them in a way that’s going to humiliate me and drag my life out before every news agency in the state.”
“I got a summons today, too.”
There was a beat while she took a breath. “What?”
“I’m named as a coconspirator or something, for collusion with you to extort— Hell, I didn’t finish reading the thing.”
Shay swallowed. That took a bite out of her anger. “Did you know about this before today?”
His turn to pause. “I thought Jaylynn was bluffing about the claim she’d been defamed. At the time I hadn’t even filed my report. Once I did, I thought it would all go away.”
“Well, it didn’t.” Shay was pacing, needing the activity to work off the extra energy. “I’ve been on the Internet. I know who she is now. Why didn’t you warn me that she’s a celebrity? In court it will be my word against that of a TV personality. It doesn’t take a lot of imagination to see how the testimony of a ‘nobody’ is going to stack up against the words of ‘Charlotte’s Sweetheart.’ Oh my God, and once they find out about my past—”
“They won’t. Shay, listen to me. This is my mess. I’ll figure out how to clean it up. I’m going to fight her. I already told her that.”
Shay took a breath in surprise. “You’ve already talked to her?”
“It’s not like that, Shay.”
Shay shook her head though he couldn’t see her. “You can’t help me. You’ve no idea what you’ve done!”
Her head was pounding with thoughts moving too fast to put into words.
