by Gayle Trent
He pulled me to his rock-hard chest in a constricting hug. “None of that matters. I’ve had a lot of time to think. And I’m different. I’ve changed. I still love you.”
“L-let me go. Please.”
“Not until you agree to come inside and talk with me. You owe me that after what you put me through, don’t you think?”
I nodded. “Whatever…whatever you say.”
“There’s no reason to be afraid of me, Daph. I know I scared you before—and that cost me dearly—but I’ve forgiven you for having me put in prison.”
My throat was constricted, my nose was running, and tears were coursing down my cheeks. I could barely breathe. I nodded again.
Todd loosened his grip. “Look at me.”
I didn’t want to. I’d been trying for years to forget that face…those merciless, accusing hazel eyes…the thin lips always ready to curl into a snarl or a smirk.
“I said, look at me.” He shook me slightly, and I raised my eyes. “That’s better. Do you see how much I love you? Can’t you read it on my face?”
I nodded.
He wiped my tears away with his thumbs. “Don’t cry. I’m here now.” He ran his hands over my hair and then pressed me against his chest again. “I’d forgotten how good it felt to hold my wife.”
“W-why don’t I…make us some coffee?”
“All right. That’d be great.”
He let me go but put me in front of him so I’d have to go inside the house. I went into the kitchen, and he followed so closely that if I’d stopped abruptly, he’d have stepped on my heels. If I was going to get away, it was going to be by using my wits rather than my strength. That much hadn’t changed.
“I still buy that French roast coffee you always liked,” I said.
Todd chuckled, took my shoulders, and kissed the back of my head. “You’ve got a nice place here. At least, what I’ve seen of it so far. How’s the job market?”
“Pretty good, I guess.”
He pulled out a kitchen chair and lowered his tall, bulky frame into it. “How’s this…baking…thing going?”
“Fine.” I busied myself with the coffee pot, waiting for him to become complacent.
“Your mom thinks you need to go back into secretarial work, but I don’t see why you couldn’t do both.”
My mom… I clenched my teeth.
“Where’s your bathroom?” he asked.
Thank God. “It’s down the hall and to your left.”
“Be right back.” He smiled, winked, and strode toward the bathroom.
As soon as I heard the door shut, I ran out the side door, through the backyard, and into Myra’s house. I never even stopped to knock. I closed her door behind me and locked it. Then I sank to the floor and buried my face in my hands.
“Lord, have mercy! What’s the matter?” Myra came and put her arms around me. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
I couldn’t. All I could do was sit there and sob.
“Aw, hon. Everything’ll be all right.” She hugged me close. “Was it McElroy? Did you call him, and he was mean to you? If he was, I’ll light into him like a fox on a June bug.”
I shook my head. “It’s Todd.”
“Who? Todd?” It seemed to take a few seconds for her to remember who he was. “Wait, the killer? That Todd?”
I nodded. Even though he hadn’t actually killed me—obviously—that’s how Myra chose to refer to him.
“What about him?”
“He’s at my house.”
“Oh, dear sweet Jesus. I’m calling the police.” She stood. “Get over there, Bruno, and protect her. Daphne, honey, are you hurt? Do I need to have them send an ambulance too?”
“No. Just the police.”
Dutifully, Bruno came and took his mistress’s place at my side. He anxiously pranced on his tiny feet before half climbing up my side to lick the salty tears off my face.
“Forgive me for saying so, but I don’t think you’d be much protection against Todd Martin,” I said to Bruno softly.
He didn’t seem to take any offense to that and crawled into my lap. He wasn’t much in the way of protection, but he was an old hand at offering comfort.
Myra returned from wherever she’d been using the phone. “They’re on their way. I asked for McAfee because he’s the most intimidating.”
I knew the whole truth. She’d asked for McAfee because, as she’d told him on more than one occasion, he reminded her of that “gorgeous Shemar Moore from Criminal Minds.” He was intimidating, though. He certainly had Bruno beat by a longshot.
“Did you happen to peep outside?” I asked. “Is there still a blue truck in my driveway?”
“I did, and there is.”
“I just want him to leave.”
She held out her hand. “Here. Get up and sit with me on the couch.”
I took her hand, cradled Bruno with the other one, and got up. I sat on the sofa, still feeling somewhat dazed.
“I knew he was getting out of prison soon, but I just hadn’t given it any serious thought.”
“Well, that’s understandable,” she said. “You’ve had your upcoming wedding on your mind. You’re thinking about your future, not the past.”
“True. And I never dreamed he’d come here looking for me.”
“Are you sure he didn’t hurt you?” Myra gingerly lifted my wrist so she could examine my arm.
“I’m fine…physically.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“Actually, no. He said he loved me and that he’d forgiven me for having him put in prison.”
She let out a low growl that startled Bruno. “He put his own self in prison! Dirty rat!”
The little dog began to bark.
“You hush up,” she told him. “Save your strength in case the rat gets here before Officer McAfee does.”
The timer on my phone went off.
“I’ll get the brownies.” I turned off the alarm. I went into the kitchen, washed my hands, and put on the oven mitt that was designed to look like a large strawberry. As I was taking the brownies out of the oven, the doorbell rang, followed by Bruno’s yapping.
“Thank the good Lord you’re here!” Myra exclaimed. “We’re in mortal fear for our lives! Hush up, Bruno! We’ve been rescued.”
If I were to tell you that Myra Jenkins didn’t have a dramatic streak a mile wide, I’d be lying.
I put the pan on a wire rack to allow the brownies to cool before joining Myra and the officer in the living room. Officer McAfee looked relieved to see me. She was holding to his right arm for dear life.
“Ms. Martin, what’s going on?” He gently disengaged himself from her grasp and took out a notepad and pen.
I explained that my former husband had been in prison for assault with a deadly weapon. “Earlier today, my oven went out, so I came over here to use Myra’s oven to bake a pan of brownies.”
“Don’t they smell good?” she asked McAfee.
“Yes, ma’am. Please continue, Ms. Martin.”
“I set the timer on my phone and went back to my house with the intention of mixing up the second batch of brownies I need to make today. The blue pickup truck with Tennessee tags was in my driveway. There was no one in the truck, and I’d left my door unlocked so I was afraid that the person was in my house.”
“And this person was your ex-husband?”
“Yes!” Myra answered. “And he’s this big old bear of a man. I don’t know how on earth Daphne got away from him.”
Officer McAfee frowned and stopped writing. “When did you see the man, Ms. Jenkins?”
“Oh, I didn’t. But when Daphne got here the second time, she was scared half to death. I don’t think some scrawny little old thing could scare her, do you?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. “Ms. Martin, what did you do upon realizing that the driver of the truck might be in your residence?”
“I called out, and he answered me. Before I could run, he came out
of the house and grabbed me.”
“Did he assault you?”
“No, I wouldn’t say that. But, given our history, I was frightened.”
“He’s done tried to kill her once,” Myra said. “Who’s to say he’s not here to try again?”
“I understand that, Ms. Jenkins.” McAfee stepped out onto the porch and looked toward my house. “The truck is gone. Why don’t we walk over to your house and make sure there’s no one there and see if anything is missing?”
“All right,” I said.
“Let me put Bruno in his crate before we go.”
“Ms. Jenkins, as a matter of safety, I believe it would be best if you stay here for the moment.”
“You’ll come back and let me know what’s going on, won’t you?” she asked. “I harbored Daphne, gave her sanctuary or whatever you call it. That killer might be after me now too.”
“I’ll check back on you, Ms. Jenkins.”
As McAfee and I walked across the yards, he offered me his arm. “Here. You seem a tad unsteady.”
“I am.” I gratefully took his arm. “If I hadn’t frozen at the sound of his voice… But it was the last thing I was ever expecting to hear again, especially in such close proximity.”
“Did the man give you any indication that he was out for revenge?”
“No. In fact, he said he forgave me for having him put in prison.”
“Did he ask if you’d forgiven him for taking a shot at you?” he asked.
“No, sir.”
“That was a joke, Ms. Martin.”
“Oh. Yeah.”
He patted my hand, which was probably cutting the circulation off his upper arm. “It’ll be okay.”
“Unless it isn’t.”
“I’m here now. After we’re done going through your house, we’re going to report back to Ms. Jenkins, of course.” Officer McAfee shook his head. “And after that, we’re going to the station so you can see the magistrate for an emergency order of protection.”
“Will this order be printed on an iron shield or a Kevlar vest? If it’s not, I’m not sure how it’ll stop a bullet.”
“If he returns, you call the station, and somebody will be here as soon as possible.”
I nodded and murmured my thanks, but I still didn’t feel terribly reassured.
We got to my carport, and I released his arm. I didn’t want to restrict him in any way in case he might need to draw his gun or throw a punch or whatever. Since Todd’s truck was gone and I hadn’t seen anyone else around, I didn’t think that would be an issue. But it was certainly better to have the officer unencumbered if necessary.
“Anything out here look amiss?” he asked.
“No.”
“All right. I’m going in first. You stay close behind me.”
He didn’t need to worry on that account.
“Tell me if you see anything that looks strange or out of place.”
“Okay, I will.”
We walked through the kitchen, living room, down the hall, into the bathroom, and finally into both bedrooms. We checked all the closets. Nothing seemed to be stolen or out of order, and I said so to McAfee.
“Get your purse and your keys and lock up,” he said. “I’m going back to reassure Ms. Jenkins that everything is okay, get my car, and then I’ll be back. You can follow me to the station, and I’ll take you in to see the magistrate.”
“All right. Please tell Myra that I’ll get the brownies as soon as I get back.”
“I think those should be the least of your worries at the moment, Ms. Martin, but I’ll let her know.”
I thanked him again, and he left through the front door.
When I went to the kitchen to get my purse and keys from the hook near the side door, I noticed a piece of paper on the table. I regarded it as I might a dead mouse or some other “gift” left by Sparrow—it was unpleasant, but I needed to deal with it and get it out of my house.
I felt a twinge of morbid curiosity as I reached for the letter. If the letter contained a threat, it might help persuade the magistrate to award me the protection order, and that made me feel better about wanting to know what Todd had said.
Daphne:
I do still love you, and I think we could still work things out. You’re not married yet, so it’s not too late. I miss seeing my granny’s ring on your finger. Will you give me another chance?
Todd
Another chance to what? Kill me? I sighed.
The letter probably wouldn’t be helpful. There wasn’t anything threatening in it. Still, I shuddered as I wadded the paper up into a ball and flung it into the trash can.
All these years, and I hadn’t heard a word from Todd. Not a note, not a call, not a Christmas card. Now all of a sudden, he loved me and wanted to work things out? What was he up to?
CHAPTER THREE
I started when Officer McAfee knocked on the door to tell me he was ready to go to the magistrate’s office. How long would it be before my heart stopped racing and I quit being freaked out by every sudden noise?
“Are you all right to drive?” he asked. “You still appear to be pretty shaken up.”
“I found a note that Todd left on the kitchen table for me. I just hate that he had the run of my house like he did.”
“Let me see the letter.” He held out his hand.
“I…um…I threw it away.”
“Did he make any threats in this letter?”
I shook my head.
“And you’re sure nothing was taken?”
“I’m fairly sure.”
“If you realize something is missing later on, give us a call at the sheriff’s office.” He gazed around the room as if reassuring himself that nothing appeared to be damaged.
“All right. Can we go now? I’d like to get this over with.”
“Of course. I’ll lead the way. If you need to stop for any reason, blink your headlights.”
* * *
The magistrate’s office was right beside the jail. McAfee parked, got out of his cruiser, and motioned for me to take the empty space beside him. I pulled my red Mini-Cooper into the spot.
Before I could grab my purse from the passenger seat, he had come around and opened the driver’s side door. He kept one hand on my shoulder as he looked around—I assumed he was making sure there was no one suspicious lurking outside the building. Maybe he was looking for a blue pickup truck with Tennessee tags.
That he was being so cautious made me both glad and apprehensive. Would he take it the wrong way if I asked him to come back to my house and spend the night? Would Ben? He was my first choice of overnight protector, but he was out of town.
“I’m scared,” I said.
He looked down at me then, and I could see the compassion in his eyes. “I know. You shouldn’t be alone this evening.”
Had he read my mind?
“Is there someone you could stay with? I wouldn’t mind going back with you to pack a bag.”
“I’ll call my sister.” I was already thinking of a way to make my overnight visit plausible to Lucas and Leslie. My oven wasn’t working, and I needed to stay with them in order to get the baking done for the Save-A-Buck. The kids would be happy to help me in the kitchen, and they’d keep my mind off of Todd. Hopefully, tomorrow, my ex would be back in Tennessee and everything would be all right.
The magistrate was a short, stout woman with tightly curled brown hair. She wore a navy pantsuit and black loafers. She was looking pretty stern until she spotted Officer McAfee, and then her face broke into a smile.
“Well, hi there, handsome. Who’s this you’ve brought me?”
He explained how my ex-husband had been incarcerated in Tennessee for assault with a deadly weapon after he’d shot at me and missed. “He’s out of prison now—I checked it out on the way here and he was released—”
It had never crossed my mind that Todd might’ve escaped.
“He paid Ms. Martin a visit today,” he continued. “She was next d
oor at a neighbor’s house, and when she returned, she found Mr. Martin inside her home.”
The magistrate arched a brow at me. “You should never leave your doors unlocked, even when you’re only running out for a moment.”
“I know,” I said softly. I felt like saying, Lesson learned, lady. Can we move this thing along?
Her face softened as she looked at McAfee again. “Did he threaten her?”
“No, but given the fact that his incarceration was due to an apparent attempt on Ms. Martin’s life, I think an emergency protective order should be issued.” He smiled. “Don’t you?”
“I’ll defer to your judgment.”
I was confident that smile sealed the deal.
The magistrate explained to me that the emergency protective order was an ex parte order, meaning that Todd was not present nor did he have to be notified beforehand of the issuance. The order would grant me protection for the next three days and was intended to stop any contact Todd had with me or my family or any household members.
“To get a regular order of protection, you’ll need to go before a judge,” the magistrate told me.
“Hopefully, Todd will be gone before that becomes necessary,” I said.
“If he contacts you or returns to your home, inform him that you have an emergency order of protection against him. If he continues to harass you or refuses to leave, call the sheriff’s department immediately.”
“Thank you. I will.”
Officer McAfee walked me back to my car. I was grateful that he did, but I thought that not even Todd was dumb enough to approach me so close to a jail.
“I’ll follow you back to your house to make sure Mr. Martin hasn’t returned.”
“Thanks.” I got into the car, pulled out of the parking lot, and called Violet to ask if I could stay at her house this evening. My call went straight to voicemail.
“Hey, Vi. I’m calling to see if I could stay at your house tonight. My oven is on the fritz, and I have some baking to do.” I debated on whether or not to tell her the whole truth. I plunged ahead. “And that’s not all. Todd’s in town. He came to my house and scared the crap out of me. Guess who gave him my address? Mom. Can you believe that? Oh, well. Call me.”
