Valley of Shadows and Stranger in the Shadows: Valley of ShadowsStranger in the Shadows

by Shirlee McCoy

  “It was great. When she was little I actually did diaper duty, gave her baths, made sure she was fed.”

  “You were a lot older than her?”

  “There’s six years difference.”

  “That’s…” Crazy. Sad. Horrifying.

  “It is what it is. I took care of her the best I could until social services stepped in.” He finished the second fish, opened up a shallow container and dipped both into a mixture of spices. “After that, we were separated. It took me years to find her again. And, actually, she was the one who found me. Just showed up at the church one day. I’ve barely let her out of my sight since.”

  “That’s a great story.”

  “It is.” He grinned. “I never get tired of telling it. So, what do you say?”

  “About?”

  “Giving me a hand with Jake’s kids.”

  “I doubt Jake would want me over at his place.”

  “Why wouldn’t he?”

  “I’m a walking danger zone.”

  “And his house is like Fort Knox. Locks. Alarms. You name it, he’s got it.”

  “His wife—”

  “You’ve met Tiffany. She’s as laid-back as Jake is intense. She’ll probably feel a lot more comfortable if there are two of us with the kids.”

  “She did seem pretty easygoing when I met her.” But that didn’t mean Chloe wanted to spend the evening watching her kids. Not when doing so meant she’d be spending another evening with Ben. Ben whose vivid gaze compelled her and whose laughter warmed the cold, hard knot of pain she’d been carrying around for months. Ben who could easily fill the empty place in her heart and who could just as easily break it.

  “She is, but she’s also a mama bear when it comes to her kids. I doubt she’ll be able to enjoy her birthday dinner if she’s worrying about whether or not I’ll be able to handle Honor and Isaac on my own.”

  “Jake is taking her out for her birthday?”

  “Yes. Does that make a difference?”

  “Every woman deserves to be treated special on her birthday.” Chloe’s own birthdays were less than memorable. Her mother and grandmother hadn’t wanted to acknowledge the infamous date of her birth. Most of her boyfriends had been too caught up in themselves to mark the day. Even Adam hadn’t made much of it, his quick phone calls and hasty dinner arrangements making her feel more second-thought than special. Opal had sent cards and gifts, but she was the only one who’d ever cared enough to do so.

  “Does that mean you’ll help?” Ben laid the fish in the sizzling hot pain and a spicy aroma filled the air.

  Chloe’s stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast and that her mind might be fuzzy from lack of food. Now was not a good time to make decisions. She knew it, but couldn’t find the wherewithal to care. “I’ll help if you get Jake and Tiffany’s consent first.”

  “That goes without saying.” He nodded toward the containers he’d set on the counter. “There’s corn-bread batter in the yellow container. I’ll get the oven preheated. If you oil a pan and pour the batter into it, we can get it started. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

  “I could definitely eat.” A horse. A house. Anything large and filling.

  Chloe followed Ben’s instructions, then handed him the pan, her mouth watering as he slid it into the oven, a feeling of companionship and camaraderie washing over her. She and Adam had spent a lot of time together, but not all of it had been easy and comfortable. As a matter of fact, too much of that time had been spent arguing about his relationships with other women and Chloe’s unwillingness to accept those friendships. She’d felt sure that innocent lunches and dinner would eventually turn into something less innocent. He’d insisted he loved her too much to be tempted by anyone else. In the end, Chloe’s opinion regarding the matter had been proven accurate. That was cold comfort in the wake of all that had happened.

  She ran her hand over already mussed hair and pulled plates out of the cupboard, hoping to distract herself from thoughts of what had been. “Is there anything else I can do to help?”

  “Grab the ice cream out of the bag and throw it in the freezer. I almost forgot about it.”

  “Forgot about ice cream? Is that even possible?”

  “Chalk it up to last-minute changes in the menu and an ornery puppy who decided he didn’t want to leave the house.”

  “Last-minute menu changes?”

  “Opal called to ask me why I’d talked you into getting a puppy.”

  “I haven’t spoken to her since yesterday afternoon. How could she possibly know about Abel?”

  “The same way anyone in Lakeview knows anything. Rumor mill. Although I’m not sure if that’s an accurate description since it was your landlady who called Opal with the information.”

  “I had a feeling I wouldn’t get much privacy living in a house owned by Opal’s friend.” Chloe pulled forks, knives and spoons out of a drawer, grabbed napkins from the counter and finished setting the table. “So what did Opal’s lecture about Abel have to do with last-minute menu plans?”

  “I haven’t figured that one out yet. One minute we were talking about dogs taking over Blooming Baskets and the next she was asking me what I planned to serve tonight.” He grinned, flipping the fish and opening another plastic container. “I’d been planning to have fresh fruit for dessert, but Opal told me that wouldn’t do. Apparently, you need chocolate and ice cream and lots of it.”

  “I guess I’ll have to give her a call after you leave and tell her to stop meddling.”

  “Do you want her to stop meddling?” He opened the oven, peeked at the corn bread and closed it again, leaning a hip against the counter, his eyes meeting Chloe’s and capturing her gaze.

  “The truth? No. Every time Opal sticks her nose into my business, I realize how much she cares.”

  “I feel the same about my foster parents. Mom calls every Monday. Dad checks in by e-mail a couple times a week. It’s good to know they’re there even if their hints about marriage and children are getting old.”

  “They want you to get married again?”

  “They want me to be happy. I think that’s what all good parents want for their children.” He pulled the bread out of the oven, turned off the burner and grabbed a plate. “Ready to eat?”

  “It smells delicious.”

  “Hopefully it will be. Of course, if it’s not, I’ll just blame Jake for catching bad fish.”

  “You two are good friends.”

  “He moved here from D.C. a few years back. We’ve been like brothers ever since.” He placed spice-crusted fish on her plate, spooned what looked like a three-bean salad from a container he pulled from the bag.

  “He met Tiffany here?”

  “Met her. Married her. Had a couple of kids.”

  “I’m surprised you haven’t followed in his footsteps.” The words slipped out and Chloe pressed her lips together. “Sorry, it’s none of my business.”

  He shrugged, placed a plate in front of her. “I think a lot of people are surprised I haven’t remarried, but what I had with Theresa was pretty special.”

  “What was she like?”

  “Sweet. Soft-spoken. A little shy. Strong faith. Strong spirit. Really into homey things. Sewing. Cooking.”

  “She would have made a perfect pastor’s wife.”

  “She would have, but that’s not why I loved her.” He sat down across from Chloe. “Unfortunately it’s what just about every woman I’ve dated has been trying to be. I guess they all have the same idea about what it takes to be a pastor’s wife.”

  “What’s your idea?”

  “My idea is that a pastor’s wife should be whatever God calls her to be. Whether that means sewing, cooking, serv
ing in church ministries, teaching. Computer forensics.” He grinned, the humor in his eyes making the comment a joke rather than a promise. “We’d better eat before the puppies get restless. Do you mind if I ask the blessing?”

  “Not at all.”

  Ben wrapped a hand around hers, his grip firm and strong as he offered a simple prayer of thanks.

  This was what home should be. Not four walls and furniture, but companionship, friendship. Faith shared and expressed. The intimacy of the moment wrapped around Chloe’s heart, holding it tight and promising something she shouldn’t want, but did—more dinners, more quiet conversations, more Ben.

  And that wasn’t good at all.

  As soon as Ben finished speaking, she tugged away from his hold, avoiding his deep blue gaze as she bit into the aromatic fish he’d prepared.

  Ben’s easy charm was nice, but there was no way she planned to fall for it. Her life was too complicated, her worries too real to waste energy and emotion on a relationship that was destined to fail the same way her other relationships had.

  But what if it wasn’t?

  The question whispered through her mind, tempting her to believe in impossibilities, happily-ever-afters and a hundred dreams she’d buried with Adam and his betrayal.

  But happily-ever-afters and dreams were for people who hadn’t been deceived, people who still believed in love and all that it meant.

  Chloe wasn’t one of them.

  Chapter Fourteen

  They went for a walk after dinner, the two puppies tumbling along on leashes, the soft rustle of grass and the gentle lap of water against the shore filling the night. The waning moon cast a silvery glow across the dry grass, giving the world an ethereal beauty Chloe tried hard to appreciate. Tried. Despite Ben’s presence, she didn’t like being out after dark, the open space, the hulking trees and shadowy bushes taking on forms and faces that she was half convinced were real.

  “Cold?”

  She hadn’t realized she was shivering until Ben spoke. At his words, she pulled her jacket closed, knowing it was fear and not the cold that had her shaking. “Maybe a little.”

  “Here.” He shrugged off his jacket, draped it over her shoulders, the masculine outdoorsy scent of it surrounding Chloe.

  “Now you’re going to be cold.”

  “Not even close. My foster parents loved camping. They used to take us kids into the mountains every fall. That was cold. Compared to it, tonight is downright balmy.” He wrapped a hand around her elbow, leading her along a sparsely covered patch of lawn, the rocks and soil treacherous under Chloe’s unsteady gait.

  “I’ve never been camping.”

  “Our church sponsors a youth camping trip every spring. You can sign up as chaperone and see what it’s like.”

  “It sounds like fun, but spring is months away. Anything could happen before then.”

  “You think you’ll move back to D.C.?”

  “No, but I may not be able to stay here much longer.”

  “I know you’re not asking for my opinion.”

  “But you’ll give it anyway?”

  He chuckled, the sound filling the night. “Something like that.”

  “Then I guess I’ll ask. What’s your opinion?”

  “Trouble has a way of following us no matter how far we run from it. If we’re going to have to face it anyway, we may as well face it with people who care about us.”

  “Maybe, but the trouble that’s following me is dangerous. Not just to me, but to everyone around me. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to Opal because of me. I’d feel the same way if something happened to you, Tiffany or Jake.”

  “You’re making our welfare your responsibility, but we can all take care of ourselves.”

  “That’s what I thought about Adam and look what happened to him.” An image filled her mind—fire, hot metal, Adam, blood seeping from his head and dripping onto the white shirt he wore.

  “What happened to Adam had nothing to do with whether or not he could take care of himself. What Jackson did was unexpected. Something no one could have known to be prepared for. We’re in a completely different situation now. We know there’s potential danger and we’re prepared for it.”

  “Forewarned is forearmed?”

  “Exactly.”

  “It’s not good enough, Ben. Until we find the person who’s been stalking me, no one will be safe.”

  “Jake is working hard to find the answers we need.” He turned her back toward the house. “I saw that you were working on your computer when I arrived. Dig anything up?”

  “Not as much as I would have liked. I decided to look back over the cases I was working on before the accident. It’s possible I’ve got information that I don’t know I have. Something that a person might be willing to commit murder over to keep quiet.”

  “Maybe.”

  “But?”

  “Someone has spent an awful lot of time trying to make it look like you’re having a breakdown. I wonder why.”

  “Revenge?”

  “That’s the obvious reason, but usually acts of revenge are brutal and quick. This seems more like slow, malicious torture.”

  “I can’t think of anyone who’d want to torture me. My clients and business acquaintances don’t know me well enough to care. My friends have only been friends since I moved to D.C.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  “Six years.”

  “Where were you before?”

  “Chicago. I’ve got a few friends there that I still keep in touch with, but I can’t imagine any of them wanting to harm me.”

  “Maybe not, but the way I see it, what’s going on is really personal, more personal than just wanting to keep you out of an investigation. Maybe even more personal than wanting to pay you back for a perceived wrong. If that’s true, someone you know is doing this to you.”

  “If someone in my life hated me that much, wouldn’t I know it?”

  “Not necessarily.” They’d reached the porch and Ben gestured to the swing. “Want to sit for a minute?”

  “If I sit, I might not be able to get back up. My leg’s been giving me trouble today.” Not to mention the fact that she’d had about all she could take of the darkness. Having Ben around might offer some sense of security, but a warning was crawling up her spine. Outside was not where she should be and the quicker she got back into the apartment the happier she’d be.

  “Too bad, but it’s probably for the best. I’ve got to get home. I’ve got a sermon to deliver in the morning. I’ll walk you up to your apartment and then head out.” He lifted Cain, who was racing back and forth across the porch, and pushed open the front door.

  “What’s your sermon about?”

  “If I told you that, you’d have no reason to come hear it.”

  “Who said I was thinking about coming?”

  “You probably weren’t, but I bet you are now.”

  Chloe laughed. “As a matter of fact, I am.”

  “Good. Keep thinking about it and I’ll be looking for you tomorrow.” He laced his fingers through hers and led her up the stairs, waiting while she closed and locked the door.

  She could hear his retreating footsteps as she collapsed into the easy chair. Hanging out with Ben had been fun, almost exhilarating, but it had done nothing to solve her problems. What it had done was give her something to think about. For the past few months she’d waffled between believing a member of The Strangers was after her and believing she was coming unhinged. It hadn’t occurred to her that something completely different might be going on. Her injuries, her grief, her surgeries had consumed her life and left no room for much more than reaction to the circumstances she’d found herself in.

&n
bsp; It was time to change that. To act instead of react. To start using her skills to find the answers she needed—who? Why?

  She grabbed her laptop, pulled the comforter off her bed and settled back into the chair, flicking on the television and letting background noise fade as she began searching through her files once again. This time, though, she also reread e-mails from friends and co-workers, searching for something that would point her in the right direction and praying that she’d know it if she saw it.

  Fire. Heat. The screaming sound of sirens. Her own frantic cries for help choking and gasping out as she reached for Adam’s hand. Get out. We need to get out! The words shrieked through her mind, but she couldn’t get the door open, couldn’t find her way out of the smoke and flames. She banged her fist against the window and saw the shadow, leaning close, staring in at her, eyes glowing like the flames—red and filled with hate. She screamed, turning toward Adam, wanting desperately to wake him, to get them both out alive. But Adam wasn’t there. Instead, she saw sandy hair, broad shoulders, a strong face covered with blood. Blue eyes wide and lifeless.

  Ben.

  Chloe screamed again, lunging up, fighting against the seat belt and her pain. No. Not a seat belt. A blanket. Not a car. An easy chair. Not the past. The present.

  She took a deep, steadying breath and lifted Abel, who sat whining on the floor. He felt warm and solid, his furry body comforting as Chloe stood and paced across the room. Seeing Ben in the nightmare had made it that much more terrifying, the new twist on the old dream filling her with dread.

  “I need this to be over. Not tomorrow. Not the next day. Now. Before anyone else is hurt.” The words were a prayer and a plea. One Chloe could only hope God heard and would answer. Anything else didn’t bear thinking about.

  She glanced at the clock. Four a.m. Too early to leave the house. Too late to try to get more sleep. She scratched the puppy under his chin and set him down on the floor. “How about a snack? Then we can do some more work on the computer.”

  Not that the hours she’d spent the previous night had revealed much. As far as she was concerned, she’d hit a dead end. She’d have to either find a way around it or take a different path.