by Mallory Kane
“Nothing was going on,” Faith lied. She didn’t want Glo worrying about the loan. Plus, as good-hearted and loyal as Glo was, she did like to gossip, so news of Faith’s stupidity would travel like wildfire.
“Faith, honey, you know better than to lie to me,” the older woman said with a smirk as she studied Faith’s face for a few seconds. Then she shook out her apron, tied it around her waist and patted her hair. “Seems to me that you two are getting awfully chummy. Could it be there’s a mutual attraction growing?”
“Glo, please,” Faith said, trying to pretend her cheeks weren’t heating up. “I don’t have time to listen to your fantasizing. I merely wondered if you think we can trust him.”
“Fantasizing? Is that what it is? You don’t think I’ve noticed that he’s here every single minute these days? You don’t think everybody in town has started to notice how he’s hanging around?”
Faith frowned. Was Glo right? “Well, everybody can just stop worrying. I’m not going to be fooled by a drifter ever again, Glo. I mean look at him. Could he be any more exactly like Rory?”
Glo brushed her hands down her bright green apron and checked to make sure her order pad was in her pocket. “Like Rory? Come on, Faith. There’s no comparison. Rory was so slick he practically oozed. You ask me, Matt Soarez is the genuine article. I’d trust a man in faded jeans and work boots all day long up against a slick piece of work in dress pants and ridiculous loafers with fringe and little bow ties.”
“But Matt’s only here for a construction job. He’ll be gone in a flash, as soon as the job is over.” A pang zinged her in the middle of her chest at that thought. “Not to mention that the last thing I need is another con man without two dimes to rub together.”
“Honey, I know Rory broke your heart. That was the first time you’d ever been in love, but you mark my words. You could do a hell of a lot worse than Matt Soarez. And—” Glo sent a knowing glance at Faith’s tummy “—you’re going to find out it’s damned hard to raise a kid alone.”
Faith walked around the counter and unlocked the cash register. “You don’t have to tell me that, Glo. I’m aware.”
Glo patted her blond hair as the bell over the door rang, announcing the first of the dinner customers. “By the way. Deputy Appleton told me he saw Rory the other evening. He didn’t come here, did he?”
Faith avoided Glo’s gaze.
“So he did. You watch out, honey. Don’t get tangled up with him again.”
“Don’t worry,” Faith said. “I don’t intend to.”
“Good. And Faith—”
Faith smiled wryly. There was no end to Glo’s advice, once she got started.
“Matt’s staying here to protect you. How long are you going to make him sleep down here in a cramped little booth that’s a foot too short for him?” With that, Glo nodded at the couple who’d just come in and grabbed the coffeepot.
Chapter Six
After Matt left Faith, he’d driven to Amarillo to the airport to pick up the equipment that Gavin Farrady had sent. While he was there, he ran by the house he’d rented for his mother as soon as he’d taken the job from Bart Bellows. She was cooking, of course.
“Is everything okay, Matteo?” she asked him, tilting her head up for him to kiss her cheek. “I thought you said your job would keep you too busy to visit for a while.”
“I’m busy, but since I was here in town I thought I’d come by and check on you.”
Coredad Soarez narrowed her black eyes at her son. “Somehow I think there is more to this visit than a desire to see your mother.”
Matt grabbed a hot empanada from the pan his mom had just taken out of the oven. He juggled it until it cooled, then bit into it. “I did want to ask you if you’d mind loaning the crib to someone who’s about to have a baby.”
“Someone?” His mom slid the rest of the empanadas off the baking sheet onto a plate, then turned around. “What someone?”
“Her name is Faith Scott. She owns a café, and she doesn’t have a crib.”
“And where is her husband?”
Matt studied the last bite of the empanada he held in his hand. “She doesn’t have a husband either.”
“Ah.”
He winced. His mother’s ahs could be a whole language unto themselves.
“Of course she may borrow the crib,” she said. “It has held beautiful babies. You tell her that her child will be blessed.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Matt said, breathing a silent sigh of relief. He’d gotten off easy this time. “I’ll load it into the pickup and get going. I’ve got to—”
“Oh, no,” Coredad Soarez said. “You don’t got to do nothing until you sit down and tell me all about this Faith Scott. How far along is she? Is she having a boy or a girl? Where’s the father?”
It was another hour before Matt was able to head back toward Freedom. He was on his way to Bart Bellows’s place to drop off the equipment when his phone rang.
It was Farraday. The governor’s chief of security wanted to go over the plans for security at the town hall meeting on Saturday. He asked Matt to meet him at the Corps Security and Investigations headquarters. CSAI offices were just outside of Freedom in an old rifle factory that had been turned into office buildings. He didn’t want to take a chance on them being seen together.
“Did you pick up the equipment?” Farraday asked as soon as they were inside the CSAI conference room.
“Yeah. This afternoon. I have it in the backseat of my truck, in the shipping boxes.”
Farraday glanced out the window. “Is that your truck with the baby bed in the back? Are you sure our equipment is safe?”
“Has been so far. I just picked it up this morning.”
“And you came straight here?”
“No. I went by my mother’s house for a few minutes first.”
“So you haven’t had time to inventory it or test the equipment.”
“Actually, I checked the boxes there at the airport when I signed for them. Then I stopped in the taxi parking lot and tested the com units. Sadly, I couldn’t recruit any volunteers to test the tasers on, except myself. They worked on the lowest setting.” Matt rubbed his left palm. “They worked well,” he added.
“Okay.” Farraday leaned forward, his elbows on the long mahogany conference table. “Governor Lockhart will arrive at the Talk of the Town Café at seven o’clock Saturday night. She’ll be in a dark SUV. We’ll bring her into the dining room through the kitchen door. We’ll have a raised platform specially built to go behind the counter for the governor to stand on.”
Matt nodded. “Do you need to do a walk-through of the café before Saturday?”
“No. I have a scale drawing. The platform’s going to be necessarily small, because of the limited space behind the counter. The governor, myself, Mayor Arkwright and two other bodyguards will be there. Arkwright will step down and join the audience once he’s finished with his introduction of the governor. You said you wanted to observe from the platform. So once Mayor Arkwright leaves, you can step up. You’ll be closest to the door to the kitchen. Does that work for you?”
“Yeah. Sounds good.”
“I have the scale drawing right here.” Farraday spread the sheet out on the table between them. “Where are you and the sheriff planning to place the deputies?”
Matt went over and finalized the security plans with Farraday. Farraday nodded his approval.
“I do wish we had a more secure facility,” Matt said.
“Me, too, but the café is what the governor wants.” Farraday shrugged, a what-are-you-going-to-do gesture.
“Has anyone briefed Faith about her role in the meeting?”
“Faith?” Farraday looked puzzled. “Oh, Ms. Scott, the owner? The governor’s PR person, Tanya Gossett, is talking with her.”
“What’s the time frame for the meeting?”
“The governor wants to speak for about twenty minutes, then open up the floor for questions. We plan to shut it down by
nine o’clock. We’ll take her out through the kitchen, just like she came in, and put her into the waiting SUV. Your guys will have to disperse the crowd.”
“So realistically, what do you think is the likelihood of someone trying to harm the governor during the meeting?”
Farraday frowned. “I’m afraid the odds are increasing. Did Bart tell you about the note the governor received after the Fourth of July parade?”
Matt shook his head no.
“It was very short and to the point. It said Time to die, Lila.”
“How was it delivered?”
“It was in with her mail. Nobody knows how it got in there.”
“What do you think?”
“I don’t know,” Farraday said. “It was printed in block letters on cheap copy paper. No envelope. They used her given name, but she’s widely known as Lila, so that doesn’t really tell us anything.”
“Then we have to assume that she’s in grave danger. Will she be wearing body armor?”
Farraday smiled wryly. “Not unless we wrestle her to the ground and force it on her. And that’s not going to happen.”
Matt was surprised. “Are you kidding? Because if she were under my protection, that’s exactly what I’d do.”
“Yeah? Well, obviously, you’ve never dealt with Governor Lila Lockhart.”
JUST AS FAITH FINISHED verifying the credit card receipts late Thursday evening, Matt knocked on the front door. She ran to the door and unlocked it.
He smiled at her, and her heart gave a little leap. “I see you listened to me and locked up,” he said, indicating the door.
Faith nodded. “I’ve just told my regulars that if they want pie after nine o’clock, they’ll have to call first, so I’ll know they’re coming.
“Speaking of pie—” she chuckled “—I saved you a piece of the cherry. And let me tell you it wasn’t easy. The mayor had to settle for apple.”
“You’re the best,” he said, touching her chin with his forefinger.
Faith felt the touch all the way down to her toes. Just as she was making a mental note to give herself another lecture about him, she felt a sharp pain in her side. The baby.
“Thanks,” she murmured, aiming the remark at both Matt and her baby.
“So what’s going on with the town hall meeting?” Matt asked casually.
Faith frowned at him. His tone was odd—almost too casual, as if he was forcing it. “Everything’s on schedule, I think. The mayor’s public relations assistant called today, and we went over their plans. It sounds like the governor’s staff is on top of everything. They seem to have it running like a well-oiled machine.”
“Good.” He paused, and his gaze shifted around the room. “I’ve been contacted by a bodyguard for the governor to help with keeping an eye out for troublemakers.”
“Really? You?” Faith said, surprised. Immediately, she realized how her unthinking words sounded. “I didn’t mean—”
Matt waved away her apology. “Apparently Mr. Bellows recommended a couple of us who’re working on his driveway as muscle in case of any trouble. I told them I’d be glad to. I mean, I’ll be here anyway.”
For some reason, Faith’s face grew warm. “I’d better get the cash register closed out. And you need your pie. Do you want ice cream with it?”
Matt nodded and sat on a stool. He pulled out a five dollar bill and laid it on the counter.
“Matt, please stop trying to pay for everything. You’re staying here to…to protect me. I owe you much more than a few meals and some pie.” Faith pulled out the piece of pie she’d saved for him and added a generous scoop of ice cream.
Matt didn’t answer her. He just dug into the dessert.
As Faith finished closing out the register and locked it, she thought about what Glo had said this morning.
“Matt?”
He was finishing up his pie. As he scraped the plate with his fork, he looked up at her.
“Would you…” she started. How was she going to ask him this without making it sound like a proposition? “Would you want to sleep upstairs? In the living room I mean. On the couch. In the living room.” She took a deep breath. “You already have a key.”
Matt had eaten the last dregs of the pie and ice cream. He laid the fork down beside the plate, then spent a few unnecessary seconds straightening it.
“That would be nice,” he said finally. “The booths are great for sitting, but they’re a little short and narrow for sleeping on.”
Faith nodded. That had gone better than she’d expected it to. Once again, she was impressed at how open and genuine he was. Rory would have leered and made a suggestive remark, as would some other men in town. But Matt took the invitation for what it was and answered politely. Glo’s words echoed in her ears.
Matt Soarez is the genuine article. I’d trust a man in faded jeans and work boots all day long.
“Okay, then,” she said. “I’ll go upstairs and get out some sheets and a quilt—for the couch.”
“In the living room,” Matt said with a smile.
THE NOISE STARTLED FAITH out of a deep sleep. For a split second, before she came completely awake, she thought it was part of a dream. Then something heavy hit the mattress, sending shock waves through her. Tiny pricks peppered her arms.
What was it? Ants? Still half asleep, she pushed the covers back. She had to get them off her.
Then she was blinded by sudden light.
“Faith! Don’t move!”
She blinked in the brightness. It was Matt. He’d turned on the overhead light. His sharp eyes took in her bed and her in one glance.
“I don’t know what happened,” she gasped, looking down at herself. Her arms and gown and sheet were covered with sparkly glass. She lifted an arm to brush it away.
“Be still!” Matt yelled, flipping the lights off, then vaulting toward the window. He looked out.
“Matt? What is it?”
No answer. He hit a preset number on the phone he held. “Sheriff, someone just threw a brick through Faith’s window. I saw a figure get into a dark pickup. I think he drove west.” He paused. “Good. Both ends of the street. Thanks!”
“Matt, do something!” Faith cried. “Tell me something.”
He stayed at the window for a few seconds, then turned and glanced at her, then at the door, as if debating whether to stay or go. He headed toward the door, but all he did was turn on the lights.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, his gaze roaming over her and the bed.
“I don’t think so.”
“Oh, God!” he breathed in a strangled voice.
“What?” Faith looked down at herself uncomprehendingly. But within a second or two, the sounds, the dots of pain like ant bites, Matt’s words, all made sense. She was covered with tiny bits of glass. It glittered on her gown and arms and sparkled on her sheets. In the bright overhead light, she looked as if she was in a bizarre, gaudy painting.
Then she saw it—what Matt had seen. She opened her mouth but nothing came out. She couldn’t get her breath.
A huge shard of glass—at least six inches long and sharp on both ends—had buried itself upright, like a sword, less than four inches from her left thigh. Just behind it, near her hip, was an old brick with a note attached to it by a rubber band.
Matt took a couple of quick pictures with the cell phone in his hand.
“What—what are you doing?”
“If anything comes up later, I want to be able to prove that this is more than just a prank. You could have been seriously hurt or killed.”
Faith looked back at the lethal shard of glass. She tried to swallow, but her throat was too dry.
“Where are your shoes?” Matt asked, still staring at the shard.
“My—” Faith was having trouble processing what Matt was saying. Her heart was pounding in her ears, her mouth and throat were almost too dry to talk and her limbs had started trembling.
“There they are,” he muttered. He picked up a pair of
slides and clapped the soles together, then brushed them off with his fingers. He set them on the floor beside the bed.
“I want you to do exactly as I say, okay?”
She nodded.
“First of all, do not move a muscle unless I specifically tell you to. If there’s another large piece of glass somewhere, you could cut or stab yourself.”
He glanced around and spotted her robe. Grabbing it, he used it to pick up the brick. “The surface is probably too rough for fingerprints, but maybe we can get something from the note.”
Then, with a sleeve of her robe around his hand, he grabbed the shard of glass like a knife and pulled on it.
To Faith’s horror and dismay, Matt had a little difficulty extracting the shard from her mattress. She tried her best to wipe her mind of the picture that rose, a picture of that shard embedded in her thigh.
He laid the robe on her dresser.
Faith looked down at herself. She had on a long nightgown, but it had ridden up. Her hand reached out to tug it down.
“Faith!”
She froze. “I can’t sit here without moving any longer,” she said.
“Okay. Just a second. We’ve got to be careful.” He inspected the sheet beside her hips and thighs. “Okay, sit up carefully. You’ve got broken glass all over you. Then turn sideways.”
Faith did as she was told. She felt a couple of pricks on the backs of her knees.
“Now I’m going to put your shoes on for you, then you just stand straight up. Got it?” He knelt. His hands were large but amazingly gentle as he ran them around her ankles and over the top and sole of her foot before he slipped each sandal on.
Then he stood and held out his hand. She put her right hand in his.
“Stand up,” he said and tugged. She stood. Glass pinged onto the hardwood floor. A few tiny bits hit the tops of her feet.
“Take a change of clothes into the bathroom and shower. Have you got flip-flops you can wear in the shower so you don’t cut your feet?”
She nodded. “What about the brick? There’s a note attached to it.”
