Undercut

by Heather Day Gilbert

  “An incident?” Now Zane’s face mirrored the deputy’s previous concern. “Was anyone hurt?”

  Deputy Calhoun shook his head. “No, but a woman felt threatened by a man lurking near her car. When she went for help, the man bolted.”

  Zane’s throat tightened. “Could you tell me who the woman was?”

  “You know, it’s strange, because she mentioned she’d spoken to you earlier today. Said you’d been nervous about some fellow going into the casino?”

  Zane pressed his palms into the bed. “You mean the woman was Molly? Is she okay? Was it the man I saw?”

  The deputy crossed his arms. “First, I need you to explain your relationship with Molly to me.”

  “Of course. I dated her. I mean I’m dating her. We grew up together.”

  Deputy Calhoun’s tightened lips slid into an understanding smile. “Well, nice to make your acquaintance. I’m engaged to Molly’s sister.”

  4

  The last thing Molly expected to hear at 11:10 p.m. was Ace’s deep, serious voice on the other end of her cell phone.

  He explained that Zane had been attacked in his home and was in the hospital for knife wounds. By the time she finished talking to him, she’d changed clothes and twisted her bed-wild curls into a loose bun. Thank goodness her headache was nearly gone.

  Trying not to think about the possibility of a stalker outside her apartment, she locked up and rushed down to her car. By the time Ace met her in the hospital parking lot and filled her in, she was as alert as if she’d drunk three cups of coffee.

  Ace led her through Zane’s hospital room door, then excused himself to call the sheriff. Molly glanced around, quickly taking in the scene. Mrs. Boone sat in an oversized chair, stroking the dark hair of a sleepy girl in her lap. Mr. Boone stood just inside the doorway, talking to a petite brunette. The woman shot a questioning look toward Molly as she walked past.

  Zane welcomed her with a smile. “You came. Not the best day for either of us, was it?”

  She was pulled in by his unexpected warmth and hesitantly stepped to the side of his bed. “You okay?”

  “I lost some blood and I might scar, but it’s nothing that will kill me.”

  “Thank goodness you survived. What happened?”

  “You tell me your story and I’ll tell you mine.”

  “My story seems tame compared to yours. Maybe it was all just in my head.”

  Zane’s smile flicked into a frown. Under the fluorescent lights, his eyes looked more blue than gray, and they swept her face as if searching for hints of irony.

  She tried to offer a reassuring smile before continuing. “It was just some stranger in the parking lot, blocking my way. I tend to freak out easily—just ask my sister. Not something I’m proud of.”

  Behind her, the brunette gave a slight cough. She had left off chatting with Mr. Boone and now stood at the foot of Zane’s bed. She was slowly edging into Molly’s personal space.

  The woman piped in. “Yes, Zane, I’d like to hear your story in your words. Your Dad told me some of it.”

  Before Zane could speak, Molly turned and extended her hand to the woman. She suspected she was Zane’s ex, since the small girl was probably their child, but she wanted to make sure.

  “I’m Molly McClure—sorry I didn’t introduce myself sooner. I was just worried about Zane and wanted to see him for myself.”

  “Didn’t we all,” the woman murmured. She accepted her hand and gave it a firm shake. “I’m Krista, Zane’s ex-wife.” She motioned to the girl, who had drifted to sleep. “That’s our daughter, Lola.”

  “Very nice to meet you,” Molly said. Her curiosity satisfied, she turned back to Zane. “Yes, please tell us what on earth happened.”

  By the time Zane finished his story, his eyes had taken on a slight glaze and it was obvious he could hardly stay awake. Molly realized with a start that the doctors had put him on some kind of pain medicine. She suspected he felt more miserable than he let on.

  A strong man, and a proud one. He reminded her of her dad. It had taken her years to understand that Dad’s unwillingness to show emotion wasn’t because he lacked emotion, but because he kept a tight rein on it. Molly wasn’t wired the same way. She figured if an emotion wanted to take her over for a while, she might as well let it. Bottling things up was unhealthy.

  “Could I talk to you a minute?” Krista asked quietly.

  Molly nodded and murmured a goodbye to Zane, hoping he wouldn’t mention their date on Friday. She would contact him later to see if he even felt like going.

  Krista took her elbow with a surprisingly firm grip, steering her past the Boones and Lola and into the hallway. She launched into her concerns, bypassing any niceties of small talk.

  “What do you think—is he telling the truth?”

  Molly blinked, hoping she’d misheard. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  Krista pointed at her with a manicured burgundy nail. “I mean, is this some cockamamie story about a masked man breaking into his house with a knife?”

  Molly held up her hands, as if she could stop this strange line of questioning. “That’s impossible. His stomach was sliced and he was cut on his hand.”

  Krista tapped a frenzied beat on the floor with her ankle boot. The nervous energy emanating from the birdlike woman was impressive. But Molly didn’t like the mental trail Zane’s ex was following.

  Molly adjusted her stance, looming over Krista. “He wouldn’t have hurt himself.”

  Krista narrowed her dark eyes. “You might think that. But you don’t know him like I do. You didn’t have to live with him after his last tour.”

  Anger edged into Molly’s voice. “I’m sure active duty has changed him, but I’ve known Isaiah Boone half my life. One thing I’m dead-sure of is that he’s not a liar. Now, I hope you’ll excuse me. I know we’ve both had a long night.”

  She wheeled around and strode toward the elevator. Glancing at Krista when she pushed the button, she fought the urge to stick her tongue out as the doors slid closed.

  When the morning alarm dinged on her phone, Molly wanted nothing more than to turn it off and stay tucked under her fluffy white duvet. But she had to go in and oversee a breakfast tea for a large bridal party.

  Rummaging through her walk-in closet, she found her favorite black 50’s style skirt with latticework detail on the hem, then chose a white and black blouse to match. Setting out her red heels and a red leather purse, she felt somewhat prepared for her day. She prayed the man who’d been lurking had fled The Greenbrier for good.

  She was putting the finishing touches on her makeup when Katie’s ring sounded on her phone. She pushed the speaker button.

  “Sis, I’m getting ready to go.” She brushed a couple of strokes of mascara on her lashes.

  “I know. Ace told me about last night and wanted me to tell you he’ll stop by when you get off work, just to see you to your car. What time are you cutting out of there today?”

  Katie always made it sound like she didn’t have a real job, which would have struck Molly as funny if she hadn’t wondered the same thing herself. She would be thirty this year, and while she knew her dreams of being a top model or an actress were unrealistic, she wished she’d had other dreams to fall back on. It stung that her younger sister’s goals of getting married and taking over the library would come to fruition long before Molly even figured out what her goals were.

  “I’ll probably leave around four, maybe five. I can call Ace beforehand.” She teased her loose curls out with her fingers.

  “You’re coming over for Gilmore Girls and supper at Mom’s, right? I think she’s making peach pie, your favorite. Brandon’s going to Skype in, too.”

  Molly stifled her sigh. She didn’t feel like talking tonight, but Mom wouldn’t be happy if she bummed out on family time, especially if she’d made peach pie.

  “I’ll be there.” She gave a wobbly laugh. “As long as some psycho doesn’t grab me first in the parking l
ot.”

  Katie’s voice was calm but unyielding. “Trust me, that psycho would get a whole lot more than he bargained for if he tried something with Ace around.”

  Molly smiled, but it quickly faded. What if the psycho got to her when Ace wasn’t around?

  5

  Zane refused to wear his ridiculous, gaping hospital gown one second longer than he had to. The moment the doctors gave the all-clear, he pulled on the clean clothes Mom had dropped off and walked down the hall to check out.

  Ignoring the flirtatious glances of the young woman at the nurse’s station, he took his paperwork, went downstairs, and wandered into the parking lot. As he scanned the parking spaces, he realized he didn’t even know if someone had dropped his truck off here. He should’ve called his parents first.

  Did he even have his keys? He rummaged through the small bag Mom had brought over, relief flooding him as he touched his keychain. Pulling out his cell phone, he called her.

  “Mom, I’m on my way home. Is my truck here?”

  “Hey, honey! I take it you’re feeling better? That was fast.”

  He grunted what he hoped sounded like an affirmation. In reality, he probably should’ve taken the stronger pain medication they’d offered him. But he’d seen too many friends get addicted to the stuff in order to wipe out their nightmares, only to fall prey to the creeping oblivion of addiction. He refused to further torpedo his relationships with the people he cared for the most.

  She continued. “Your dad parked the truck over around the left side of the building. Sorry it’s so far from the entrance. You want me to pick you up?”

  He walked that direction. “I’m fine. Thanks, Mom.”

  “Now listen, I just made a fresh batch of biscuits and gravy. I’ll run those over for your lunch, okay? You sure you’re okay to get back to your house?” Her voice faltered.

  She hated it when Zane was in any kind of danger, although in reality he was better equipped to handle deadly situations than she was. Once a mom, always a mom, she’d said before he went to boot camp. That means you always call me first, to let me know you’re okay.

  But there were some things you didn’t even tell your mom.

  Rounding the side of the building, he caught sight of his truck. “I’m sure. I’ll need a hot shower when I get back, but feel free to stop by around one. Love you.”

  “Love you, son.”

  Once he’d adjusted the driver’s seat—Dad always moved it up because his legs were shorter—Zane slowly backed out of his space.

  Two cars down, another car slid out of its space and inched up near his bumper.

  Tailing him?

  He paused, unwilling to push the gas. Surely his attackers hadn’t followed him to the hospital? Ace would have been monitoring new admissions, watching for someone with a gunshot wound to the shoulder, but he’d mentioned nothing.

  Zane checked his rearview mirror—the car wasn’t one he’d seen before. The driver tooted the horn. Probably some worn-out family member, going home after spending all night at the hospital. He obligingly drove toward the exit. As he pulled into traffic, he spared a quick backward glance.

  The car was nowhere in sight.

  Unsure whether he should feel alarmed or relieved, Zane steadied his thoughts and focused on the road. When a tight pain squeezed at the stitches in his stomach, he clenched his jaw. His lips turned up in a grim smile. His injuries had been a high price to pay, but maybe now his shrink would take him seriously if someone started tailing him again.

  At home, Zane jammed the blinking play button on his answering machine. Krista’s voice filled the room—her message short, but nowhere near sweet:

  “If you’re listening, I guess you’re back. Of course, Lola is worried half to death and wanted to stay home from school so she could visit the hospital again, but I made her go. Could you stop in tonight so she can see you’re doing okay?”

  He closed his eyes. Had there really been a time when Krista loved him? It seemed impossible. She hadn’t taken long to get back into the dating scene after their divorce, occasionally begging off from picking up Lola when she and her dates stayed out too late.

  Striding into the kitchen, he turned on his coffee maker, ready for a cup of stronger brew than what the hospital offered. He poured in enough hazelnut creamer to give him a serious sugar rush, then called Molly to see if they were still on for Friday night.

  As her phone beeped and went to voicemail, he left an awkward message and hung up. He pictured Molly when she’d walked into his hospital room in the middle of the night—a gesture that had spoken volumes. He’d noticed how Krista had covertly studied Molly, like she was sizing her up.

  And maybe she had good reason to do so. Molly had never been one to hedge around, and her actions showed she had a genuine concern for him.

  Unlike his ex-wife.

  After taking a long shower, Zane dug into Mom’s biscuits and gravy. Once he downed a couple more cups of coffee, he felt refreshed enough to return to work.

  First, he stopped in at the office, where his matronly office manager, Mrs. Gransky, filled him in on details of their upcoming logging jobs. True to form, she made a fuss over his injuries, saying she didn’t know what this world was coming to when someone broke into a good man’s house and tried to kill him.

  Finally extricating himself from her sympathies, he drove the winding road up Ellison Mountain to meet his crew. The trees had lost their leaves, and he slowed to take in the gentle, blue-gray lines of the Appalachian ridges.

  “Montani Semper Liberi,” he whispered. He’d learned the West Virginia state motto as a teen, and it still spoke to him today. Mountaineers are always free.

  He located his men easily enough by following the line of felled trees that carved a road to the primary cut site. He parked and hiked up a low hill, following the heavy sound of a tree thud.

  As he approached, Trevor turned to greet him. “Did you see that? Brett hit a good shot.”

  Zane glanced at the tall, thick pine that now lay on the ground. “Sad to say, I missed it.”

  The young man’s eyes were bright. “Fell right where he wanted to drop it, as usual. When are you going to let me be the high climber, Zane?”

  “When you’re older than twenty—a good bit older.”

  “Such a stick-in-the-mud.” Trevor got serious. “You okay? We heard someone broke in and attacked you? Did it have something to do with that foreigner who showed up this morning?”

  Zane’s smile faded. “Foreigner?”

  Brett made his way over in his steel-spiked boots, dusting wood chips off his reinforced pants. “You telling him about that guy this morning?”

  Trevor nodded, stepping back as Brett shook hands with Zane and took up the tale.

  “Foreign fella came all the way up here this morning—darker skinned and had an accent so thick, I could hardly understand him. From what I could make out, he’d been to the office. Mrs. G must’ve told him where to find us. Seemed like he wanted us to work a job all the way over in Logan County as soon as next week, but I told him we were booked. He said something about talking to my boss, but I said you weren’t here. Got really nosy about when you’d be joining us on the mountain.”

  Trevor butted in. “Brett told him to get lost.”

  Brett shook his head. “Not in so many words, but I told him I wasn’t sure and he should call first.”

  Zane rubbed at the bandage on his hand. Was it possible the same man who’d attacked him was now hunting him down? A few of his loggers carried guns to work and they could easily overpower one man, but what if several showed up?

  He needed to talk with Ace and see if the cops had turned up anything. But first, he needed some good old-fashioned manual labor to clear his head.

  “Thanks, Brett. I’ll check on that. But I came to help out some.” Before Brett could protest, Zane pulled on his gloves, took the chainsaw from Trevor, and walked over to the next small oak in their path. He made a top notch, igno
ring the twinge in his stitches. After shouting a warning, he gave the final undercut that would fell the tree.

  If only he could deal with the problems in his own life so easily.

  Molly returned his call around 4:30, surprising him by expressing a desire to swing by his work site. “I’m tired of being cooped up inside and I’d like to see what lumberjacks do,” she said.

  “No strange men lurking around your car today?” Zane asked.

  “Ace walked me out, and there were no weirdos in sight.” She lowered her voice. “What about you? Are you doing okay? I can’t believe they let you go back to work so soon.”

  Truth be told, he hadn’t listened to the doctor’s instructions or read the paperwork they sent home with him.

  As his stomach growled, an idea struck him. “I’m doing okay, but I’m pretty hungry. Do you want to go out to eat from here? Just someplace casual?” He wouldn’t mind company tonight, and if they had an early meal, he’d still have time to swing by and hang out with Lola.

  There was a pause that lasted longer than he’d expected. He spoke into the silence. “I guess I’m putting you on the spot.”

  Molly cleared her throat. “Not really, and I’d love to, but my mom was fixing a family meal for us tonight. You want to come over and join us? Ace and Katie will be there, too.”

  He remembered Mrs. McClure from high school—she was the mom who sent cupcakes in for her kids’ birthdays, who cheered loudest at ballgames, and who could always spare a minute for an encouraging pep talk. It would be a treat to see her again.

  He agreed to the meal, then texted Krista to let her know he’d drop by around eight to see Lola. As he tucked the phone into his pocket, he couldn’t help but reflect on how flexible Molly was. Krista never liked impromptu dates. Nor would she ever visit his work site, since she despised the outdoors.