by Lyz Kelley
“Do you have a first aid kit?” Joey asked.
“I’m fine.” She touched the nick on her neck from the guy’s knife.
“There’s blood on the stairs. I think Buddy ripped a nail trying to get to you. I think he bit the door handle as well.”
“In the backpack by the door there’s an emergency kit.” Mara pulled the dog into her arms, searching his front limbs. Buddy whined in pain and squirmed, but she held him tight. She held her hand out for the supplies when Joey paused on the step below her.
“Mara, let me help,” he murmured, taking her hand.
Her beautiful, blue, sightless eyes turned toward him. “Joey, I—”
“I know. It’ll be okay.”
“Joey.” Her eyes opened wider. “I think Mark’s the one who slashed your tires.” She took a step. “I smelled spearmint that night when you went outside. I caught only a whiff, so the scent didn’t completely register at the time. Mark chews spearmint gum, sometimes shoving stick after stick into his mouth. I bet if you look you’ll find at least one wad of gum on your property.”
“How do you know so much about this guy?”
“We were engaged.”
Well, shit. “Good to know. I’ll let the deputies handle the investigation. It’s their job.” But will make damn sure they follow procedures.
The sounds of sirens coming from the alley drew his attention.
He cupped a hand around her jaw. With his thumb, he rubbed off some dried blood. His heart ached when she leaned into his palm and closed her eyes, the physical connection clearly impacting her as much as him. “You’re going to be okay.”
Mara took a deep breath. “I know.”
She gathered Buddy closer to her chest. Joey nestled beside her on the narrow bottom stair, studying her. Hair tumbled around her pale face. Spots of Buddy’s blood covered her shirt and jeans. Her dog lifted his muzzle and licked Joey’s face.
“Yes, I know, Buddy. You’re going to be okay, too.” Lifting a hand, he dished out plenty of pats to reassure the worried pooch.
Two deputies from the sheriff’s department came through the door. Deputy Cunha introduced himself and Deputy Beaulieu, and gave him a cordial look when Joey flashed his badge. Little Napoleon, the guy with a slightly balding head and pursed lips, took a look around the shop.
Cunha whipped out a pad and pencil just as the paramedics arrived. Mara suffered through her medical exam as Napoleon hovered nearby listening as both Joey and Mara gave their statements.
“You say the intruder was Mark Walters. Are you certain?” Cunha asked.
Mara bristled. “Would you ask me that question if I wasn’t blind? I have no doubt who held a knife to my throat. And I would be careful if I were you. He’s desperate. He’s looking for a fix. He needs money, and he only got what was in my register.”
Joey wanted to ask how she knew so much about drug users, but he supposed most every small town across America had its fair share. “Do you know where this guy is?”
“Not yet. We’ve blocked the roads leading out of town. We believe he’s still on foot. He won’t get far,” Cunha said, snapping his notebook shut and tucking away the pen. “I have enough for now. The deputy here will finish collecting evidence and take some pictures. Ma’am, you’ll need to come to the station tomorrow to sign a statement since you can’t approve it online. And you should find somewhere safe to stay tonight.”
Buddy wriggled and stood. Mara pushed her foot forward, but a crunching noise made her pull back. She dropped her head into her hands. The blood on her hands from Buddy’s feet smeared across her cheek while tears welled in her eyes.
“Mara, it’s going to be all right.” Joey promised with a conviction he hoped she could hold onto.
“Please don’t make me leave. I don’t want to stay some place I don’t know, where I won’t be able to find my way around or take care of Buddy.”
The burn in his chest made him want to find Mark Walters and beat him raw for what he’d done, not only to his family, but Mara, and this town.
He put an arm around her shoulders. The shop might be a disaster zone, but he was finally beginning to understand. This building was her sanctuary. This number of steps to the sink. This number of blocks to the grocery store. This number of stairs to her bedroom. However, the back door now hung off broken hinges, and dozens of broken vases and potted plants lay scattered across the floor. Her apartment and store were no longer safe.
Her stubborn chin jutted, her spine straightened, her lips tightened. He turned his hand over to fold her tiny fingers in his. To get her out of the house, he’d probably have to pick her up and throw her over his shoulder, or worse, put her in handcuffs. At another time, under entirely different circumstances, handcuffs might be fun, but not now. She’d endured more than enough, and what she wanted was understandable and reasonable to a degree.
Her cold fingers grabbed his other hand. “Buddy needs to go out, but with the glass on the floor, he’ll cut his feet.”
“I’ll carry Buddy so he can do his business, but with one non-negotiable condition. You let me call a couple of people to help secure your store. It’s not safe for you to stay here.”
“But—”
“I said non-negotiable.”
“You’ve already done so much.”
The deputy Joey had dubbed Napoleon spoke up. “I’ll take the dog out. You’re not going to lift much with that arm. You should get your shoulder looked at.” Joey shot the little man a laser-pointed glare. “Just trying to be helpful,” the officer added, and shrugged before zipping his jacket and bracing himself to lift the seventy-pound dog into his arms.
“What’s wrong with your shoulder?” Mara asked, her hand reaching out and connecting with bruised and tender skin.
Joey sucked in a breath, unable to avoid an involuntary wince. “I ran into some trouble with a door. Seems it was locked, and I wanted to get inside. Please don’t start fussing. I’ll have someone take a look after I get a crew here to put this place in order. Just relax.”
“Relax. Sure. My ex-fiancé just broke in, held me at knifepoint, trashed the store and stole money I couldn’t afford to lose. And I have a sister-in-law who’s off delivering her first baby, and I can’t be there because I’m blind. Relax, you say. I’ll get right on that. See what I can do.”
Buddy came bounding into the store, semi-favoring his right paw, and headed straight for Mara before anyone could stop him. Joey rechecked the dog’s pads for additional cuts and glass and was relieved to find none.
“I’d better go get Buddy fed and see what I can do about his injured foot.” Mara and her sad expression turned away. Her slow and steady footfall on the stairs to the apartment marked time to the rhythm of defeat. He waited at the bottom of the stairs until the upstairs door closed. Then he surrendered to the adrenaline depletion.
The two deputies stood in the smashed doorway. “Guys,” Joey said, “thanks for coming.”
Napoleon tapped on the door. “I’ve got an extra door in my garage from an unfinished basement.” He studied the splintered lock. “My wife’s not going to miss tripping over the thing every time she walks in the garage. But I don’t have a lock.”
“Anything will help.” He shook the deputies’ hands before pulling the cell phone from his hip holster, wondering who he knew in town well enough, who, after ten years, might be willing to pick up a broom late on a Saturday night.
No one; that’s who.
But it wasn’t true. There was one person who could intimidate even a magpie into giving up its meal. Hitting his speed dial, he let the number ring.
“Hey, Ma. It’s Joey. Need your help. Do you think Dad has a spare door lock lying around somewhere?”
With all his mother’s interruptions, his three-minute story stretched to fifteen. In another twenty minutes, Franco arrived saying he couldn’t find a spare lock. To Joey’s amazement, word of Mara’s need had spread like peanut butter on toast. All sorts of people showed up�
�people he knew, many he didn’t.
Mara had called Tony to let him know what happened. Gina still hadn’t delivered yet, and from the sounds of her progress, it would be a while.
Camilla and Kym arrived an hour later in the flower van, toting pizza, pasta and salad in containers that looked familiar—another gift from his ma.
At Kym’s suggestion, Mara remained upstairs taking care of Buddy and soaking up some much-needed quiet time. Kym took command of the cleanup, since she had a good working knowledge of every inch of her friend’s shop, while he and the others did the heavy lifting. Floors were swept, cabinets righted, doors repaired, and inventory salvaged.
Joey looked at the bottle of water in his hand. Every muscle ached, and his shoulder felt like someone had jabbed him with a hot poker. No way could he lift either arm high enough to take a sip of water from the plastic bottle.
“Are you going to hold that box in place with your butt all night?” Kym asked.
“I was considering it.”
Kym kicked over a five-gallon bucket and sat next to him. “Got a question for you.” She yanked on a pair of mittens and crossed her arms, holding off the shivers. The temperature in the store had dropped to barely above freezing since the door was busted. “We could have handled the cleanup. You didn’t need to do this. Why are you still here?”
Kym, never one to be subtle, went straight for the jugular. Why? A question he’d been wrestling with since the first day he’d walked into this store.
“Ever heard the saying, ‘protect and serve?’ It’s my job.”
She pointed her half-inch lacquered nail, outlining the room. “This? This ain’t no detective duty. You don’t even work in this town. You went through a lot of hassle and expense to get your flight moved out another day. This, right here, is personal.”
“What if it is?”
“I’ve known Mara since grade school. Me, I’m a cynical, bossy bitch. Have been since the age of two. That girl upstairs, she’s an angel. Never had a bad word to say about nobody, even if they deserved it. She’s got a giving heart. Gives you everything she’s got until she’s got no more. I don’t want her to be hurt. She’s been through enough.”
Joey rubbed at the blister forming on his hand from sweeping, carrying and stacking. “I know she’s too good for me. But when I’m with her, it’s like I’m back on the soccer field. I’ve got the ball, and I’m heading for the net. There’s no one else. Just me and the goalie. Two people. Wanting a victory.” He rocked back on the stack of boxes. “I get what you’re saying. I’ll leave her be.”
“Most guys need a brick upside the head, but I think, in your case, you need a whole house of bricks to flatten you. Did you know Mara’s had a serious crush on you since seventh grade?”
“Really? I had no idea. I just thought—”
“Do me a favor, and don’t think. You’re bad at it. Just get your cute little rump up those stairs.”
He heaved a massive sigh and straightened. “I can’t stay. She knows that. So what could I say to make this situation better?”
“The shape you’re in, you wouldn’t need to say a thing. Knowing her, she’d take pity on your sorry ass and have you bundled up on the couch in eight minutes, tops. Besides, the bad guy is still out there, Tony’s at the hospital, and she might like to have a friend around. Especially someone with a nice, big, bruised shoulder to lean on.”
Joey never could figure out how Mara and Kym connected. They were as different as a Ford and Chevy. Somehow, though, the two had become each other’s support system, even with the notion Kym’s support came with some jagged edges. “It’s late. I’ll walk you to your car since it’s probably still at Mad Jack’s. Then I’ll see about climbing those stairs.”
“If you do decide to do some climbing, make sure you have some long-term intentions. Mara’s loyal. She’s liked you for a long time, and I get a feeling she’ll wait if you give her a good reason. Just remember, my two older brothers and six cousins live within a days’ drive of this place and will kick your ass if you act like a jerk.”
Joey gave a quick nod. “Roger that.”
Chapter Nineteen
Mara closed her apartment door after being banished from the ground floor. She felt so useless, so bleak, a sinkhole of unhappiness opened in her chest. First the baby’s arrival, now this. There were days she considered herself capable. Today wasn’t one of them.
Kym had arrived about an hour after she had told Tony about the store and Mark. Tony had threatened to leave the hospital, but she wouldn’t let him, which was most likely the reason Kym had arrived. Her friend had been up and down the stairs at least eighteen times, asking where display tables went, or if she could store the spilled dirt in a five-gallon bucket, or whether she should create a sign to sell the damaged flowers at a discount. Mara wanted to help, but no one would let her.
With the silence came feelings of abandonment and claustrophobia, strangling her air supply.
“Come on, Buddy, we need to go down and figure out where they put everything.”
Her hand skimmed the wall on the way down the steep stairwell, keeping Buddy behind her. When she reached the bottom step, she searched the floor tentatively with her foot.
“So far, so good. I think it’s safe.”
Sliding her feet along the linoleum tile, she let Buddy pass and take the lead. She felt along the store’s outer wall, surprised to encounter a solid door. She then made her way to the sink. Her mat, scissors, and knives had been returned to their proper places. Stacked buckets lined the far walls, ready for tomorrow’s delivery, a delivery she luckily could afford since Mark hadn’t gotten his hands on the coffee can money. The shelf above her head normally containing various shapes and sizes of vases was empty. She made a mental note to tell the deputies to update their case file with the damaged items. Hearing footsteps in the alley, she called Buddy to her, pulled a knife from the magnet board, crouched down, and pulled the dog behind a stack of buckets.
The door opened behind her. “Go away. I don’t have anything you want.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
Her emotions pulled in opposite directions. She experienced relief for recognizing the voice and aggravation over the humor layered on top of the words. “I find nothing funny about this situation.”
“If you want to defend yourself, I’m going to have to teach you to use a knife correctly.” Joey closed the door behind him and slid a chain into place. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
The difference between not meaning to and doing seemed a blurry line. He sounded despondent, which made her pause. “You’re still here. I thought you might have gone back to your brother’s house. You must be exhausted. Can I get you anything?”
“A carpenter and locksmith are coming to fix your rear door in a few hours. The best we could manage was drilling new holes for a chain guard. If you have a sleeping bag or couch I could crash on for a few hours, I would appreciate it.”
You can share my bed. The idea buzzed around her head like a bee around a flower.
“Did they catch Mark?”
“Not yet.”
Damn you, Mark. She let out a long, frustrated breath and decided to remember the positive aspect of this mess. If Mark hadn’t tried to rob her, the yummy-catchy-monkey would already be headed for the airport.
“You would be the type to take the floor when there’s an empty bed upstairs.” Her bed again came to mind. “I can throw fresh sheets on my bed while you take a shower if you’d like. I’ll take the fold-out in my office. Tony has a change of clothes upstairs. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you borrowing them.”
At least the G-rated offer seemed decent. Her mother wouldn’t have to do a flip-flop in her grave for a severe breach of courtesy. She sensed his hesitation. Envisioning his conscience and his body having a standoff with neither side willing to fire the first shot, she figured she’d better negotiate a cease-fire. “It’s no trouble,” she added.
&nbs
p; “May I ask you a somewhat awkward question?” His croaking tone, the rustling of his clothes and the shuffle of his feet gave her the impression the question might strangle him if he didn’t ask whatever he wanted to know and quickly. “I mean, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
“If I can…I’ll answer.”
“Did you have a crush on me in high school?”
When she saw Kym next, she’d smack her with a dozen rose branches. Unable to prevent flames from heating her cheeks, she turned to place the knife above the sink and washed her hands, starting the count to a thousand to avoid the humiliation.
“Mara?” A warm, gentle hand landed on her shoulder.
If the cat she’d had as a kid could stick his head behind a curtain and pretend to be invisible, why couldn’t she? She reached for the towel, but used it to dry her hands rather than giving into the urge to put the piece of cotton over her head. “To answer your question, I did. But so did half the freshman class. So you see, having a crush was no big deal.”
His hand dropped. “Half the class? Who knew?”
She pushed past him to make her way upstairs. “I’ll change those sheets now.”
Joey said something to Buddy, but spoke too softly for her to hear. Both followed her up the stairs.
Shame added twenty pounds of iron to her boiled wool slippers. Why couldn’t she admit going all googly-eyed the first time Joey had walked past her hall locker? He looked so dang yummy she almost dropped her books at his feet. The way he felt, she bet he still looked just as good.
Entering the kitchen, she released a frazzled breath and pointed down the hall. “The bathroom’s the first door on the left and my room is on the right. There are shampoo and towels under the sink. I’ll bag some ice for your shoulder.”
And I would be happy to help scrub your back if you’d like.
Saying it out loud would have taken courage.
