“Back off only slightly. You know I love having you in my life, but sometimes I wonder who’s blind. You or me? You’re more concerned about the evils of the world than I am. And yes, she left yesterday.”
“Having sight is the reason why I’m like this. Not to mention I see what happens in this town in court every day.”
“Things rough at work?”
“Oh, just the normal stuff, and some not so normal.”
“Right. How about you get dressed and let’s have a glass of wine?”
“That sounds amazing, but what about your client coming?”
“I have a half hour. Plenty of time to hang out and have some girl talk.”
“I’m in no hurry to get home to Troy.” Phyllis sat up on the table and the rustling of the sheet told Ria her friend tugged it against her naked body. Sometimes it was funny how people felt the need to cover their nudity even though Ria couldn’t see a thing.
“Meet me in the kitchen.” She easily made her way from the studio and into the kitchen, took down the bottle of wine from the cabinet and reached for the corkscrew from the top drawer just as Phyllis joined her. “Are you and Troy still having trouble?”
“Depends on your definition of trouble.” Ria heard the humor in the other woman’s voice. “He doesn’t get that with a full-time job, two young kids, a social party here and there, and a house to maintain, I’m just not in the mood for him to jump my bones when he’s ready, and trust me, his libido belongs to a man that’s twenty, not forty.”
“Why do I not see the problem here?”
“Because the last time you had sex big hair and sweat bands were in style.”
Ria picked up the towel from the counter and tossed it at her friend, not sure if she made her target or not. “That’s not true.”
“I could be off a little, but it must seem like a long time for you.”
“It’s been a while, but I try not to think about what I don’t have and instead focus on what I do have.” The cork popped and she grabbed two glasses down from the cabinet, then used her finger to measure how much she poured in each glass. She handed one to Phyllis.
“Well, for a woman to have sex she must be open to meeting a man.”
“I have met men. Don’t you remember the last disaster? Anyway, enough about me. Drink up your therapy and tell me what exactly is the issue with you and your husband.”
There was a long hesitation. “It’s difficult to feel sexy when I can’t get these last few pounds off.”
“Sweetheart, you had a baby six months ago. I’m sure Troy still finds you as sexy as the day you fell in love in high school. You’re his wife. The mother of his children. And I know him. Not to mention, I have my hands on your body once a week and I can say you have a to-die-for booty.”
Phyllis laughed, but it quickly fizzled. “You don’t know how lucky you are that you don’t have a relationship—” There was a slight pause. “Oh shit, honey. I’m sorry. How ignorant of me.”
“Stop right there. We’ve been through this so many times. Please don’t walk on eggshells around me. It’s been long enough since Jamie and I broke up. I’m not so sensitive that I’m going to break down every time someone says something about my past or my lack of a relationship.”
Honestly for her, on certain days, two years seemed like a lifetime ago, and others it felt like just yesterday when she and Jamie broke up. The first year had been chaos. She’d moved out of the condo they’d bought together, and eventually she sold the business she owned to move back home to be with Kora in their childhood home. When she moved out, Ria had decided to turn the downstairs into a massage therapy studio. She started from scratch and built a client list again and eventually hired a part-time assistant. As much as her career thrived, her personal life, well, not so much, just as Kora and Phyllis pointed out to her often enough. Dating seemed like a foreign thing.
Her current situation, she hadn’t been on a date in almost a year and that had been a blind date Phyllis had talked her into. During dinner, her date had asked at least a dozen times if she needed him to feed her, cut her steak, help her to the bathroom. To a certain extent she could have forgiven him for wanting to be helpful, but when he leaned in and kissed her without asking, that crossed the line. Not only caught off guard, she hadn’t wanted to be kissed.
Sadly, she didn’t miss dating. Maybe her expectations were too high, or she feared needing to rearrange her life to make room for someone else. And a man would have to be patient with her in certain situations—many situations.
Phoenix Cade had been patient with her. Then she vomited.
It was in her best interest to forget that night ever existed.
“Thanks for the massage and wine. I better get home before Troy feeds my kids snack cakes for supper.”
After bidding farewell to her friend, Ria headed back down the hallway to the studio, counting the number of steps to the doorway out of habit. She cleaned the table and prepared it for the next client, then moved to her desk, easing into the chair. Pushing a button on the clock, it read the time.
Her assistant, Leandra, was late…again. When Ria hired the young woman, she’d been a savior, but over the last six months she’d gone from hero to zero. Her job was important on so many distinct levels and Ria needed to be able to rely on her.
Reaching for her cell in the holder, she ran her fingers over the Braille keyboard, clicked a number and the phone dialed. After three rings, voicemail picked up.
“Hey, it’s Leandra. You know what to do, so do me.”
Waiting for the beep, she said, “It’s Ria. Just checking on you. Call me.”
With a sigh, she turned on her computer screen and said, “Delta, planner.”
The male computer voice read the date and time.
“Delta, appointment.”
“Mason Cox at six-thirty P.M.”
Clicking off the computer, the buzzer sounded, alerting her to someone at the door. Right on the dot, as usual. Mason Cox had never been late to an appointment. Ria stood and rounded the desk, making her way into the living room where she invited her client in. “Hi, Mason. Right on time.”
“Hi, Ria,” he said in a breathless, low tone.
“Were you in a hurry to get here?”
“Huh?”
She spun on her heels, following the sound of his footsteps as he moved across the room, pacing in front of the window. “You sound out of breath.” She closed the door with her foot and the automatic deadbolt locked into place.
“Yeah. I didn’t want to miss my appointment.” His breathing was still shallow and he seemed preoccupied. Usually they would have a few minutes of small talk before they headed into the studio. Not able to see his expression, she had to gauge his emotions and mood by the sound of his voice and something seemed off.
“I wanted you to know the program you put on my desktop is a life-saver. Delta has become my new best friend. I can’t thank you enough.” When he didn’t respond, she nibbled her bottom lip. “How about we get started?” She took a step toward the hallway, but a knock on the door paused her. “Maybe that’s my assistant.” No longer had she taken a step when a tight grip came on her elbow, drawing her hand back from the knob. Her breath came out in a hiss as she lifted her chin. “Mason? What is it?” His fingers dug into her skin.
“It’s not her,” he whispered.
“What are you talking about? Let go of me. You’re hurting me.” Her attempt at pulling away from his clutch only made him grip her tighter. Her throat constricted, and instinct warned her she’d been right from the beginning. Mason wasn’t his usual friendly self.
Finally, he let her go and she heard him pace the floor again.
“This is ridiculous. I’m answering the door.” Just as she reached for the handle, the person on the other side pounded a fist against the wood, rattling a framed picture hanging on the wall. She jumped back, alarmed. This wasn’t Leandra.
“Listen closely,” Mason was beside her again, h
is warm, tobacco-laced breath brushed her cheek and the stringent smell of sweat accosted her nostrils. She read the panic in his tone and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand straight up. Tilting her head, she turned her chin toward his voice. “There are very bad people outside that door. If you let them in, we’ll both end up dead. You hear?”
Her heart beat quickened and acid rose into the back of her throat. She had no clue what was happening. “You’re scaring me.”
“You should be scared.”
“Cox, I know you’re in there,” a man bellowed through the door. “You’re at the end of your rope. Let’s make this easy.”
Ria froze, but Mason was on the move again. Striding back and forth frantically.
“Mason? What do we do?” she asked in a lowered voice.
“Are all your windows barred?” he asked.
“Yes.” She knew she should have told Kora that the idea of bars was ridiculous. “How about the back door?”
“No. We’re blocked in. Fuck!”
Silence.
But it didn’t last long. There were mumbled voices outside and Ria listened, recognizing Leandra’s frantic tone although Ria couldn’t understand what they were discussing. “Mason. We have to open the door.”
“No,” he barked.
A softer knock sounded. “Let us in, Mason. Please.” Leandra’s voice quivered.
Mason didn’t respond.
“Open up or I’ll kill the bitch!” the angry man outside the door said.
“They’re going to hurt her,” Ria whispered, tears sliding down her cheeks.
“If we let them in, they’ll kill all of us.” Mason was across the room.
The voices outside were muffled, but they were arguing. Ria planted an ear to the door and listened. Who…? Where…? Dead.
There was a pop, then a thud. She brought her hand up and covered her mouth to keep from screaming. Dropping her hand and controlling her breathing, she swiveled to listen for Mason. She could hear his rapid breathing. “What do we do? We have to help her.” Ria grabbed the door handle, but was roughly pulled back by Mason who shoved her to the side and she hit the wall.
“It’s too late. Hide! Now!”
“We should call the police.” Before she made two steps, the door knob jiggled, then a popping sound followed by splintering of wood.
She moved far away, panicking. Another popping sound made her jump. Mason had told her to hide. Where was he? Was he hiding too? To her left, she heard rustling sounds. Books being knocked to the floor. A vase being broken. “Mason?” she whispered.
Nothing.
Drawing up the layout of her small house in her head, she had no clue where to hide so a killer wouldn’t find her. She thought about going upstairs, but she wouldn’t make it up the stairs fast enough. A loud crack told her she was losing valuable time. The men on the other side had busted through the wood. The bolt lock wouldn’t suffice.
She could hide under the kitchen table. No.
In a kitchen cabinet. She wouldn’t fit.
Closets were off limits.
She heard the angry man say, “Just a matter of time now, Cox.”
Fear made her head ache and her world spin.
Hurrying down the hallway, guessing it must be in the shadows of the setting sun by now, she stepped into her studio just as a loud crash ricocheted off the living room walls, followed by Mason saying in a murmur, “Kill me and you’ll never find it.”
“I’ll take my chances,” a man said. A series of popping sounds made Ria’s breath still.
Biting her lip to keep from screaming, she quietly closed the door to the studio, wishing it had a lock. Phyllis had been right. Ria should have installed a security system.
Realizing she had to hurry before they searched her home, she didn’t want to die. Hearing heavy, booted footsteps in the hall, she made the only choice she could make. She slid onto the shelf under the massage table, pushing around the neatly folded sheets and towels and massage oils in order to fit into the snug space. Fixing the sheet that hung over the table, she hoped it was enough to hide the messy towels. She pressed against the metal bed frame and froze when the doorknob jiggled. The squeaking of the hinges unnerved her. There was a step and then heavy breathing of the angry man, making acid roll up into her throat. Covering her mouth, she squeezed her eyes shut, not that it would matter. She clenched her muscles, not breathing.
Hearing the unsteady gait of the intruder, he moved slowly into the room, mere feet away from the table now, hovering. He spun on heels as if to examine the space, one of his boots scraped against the planks of the wooden floor. She listened closely, hearing as much as she could through the loud rapidly beating of her heart in her ears. Her mind raced. Could she make a run for it? She was blind, but she knew the house and could possibly make it to the door before he could catch her. Then it came to her that Mason had said there were “men” and they were blocked in, so where were the others?
The footsteps surrounded the table, then paused. Bottles, candles, and other items hit the floor as he rummaged through the shelves. Minutes later, she heard the rustling of papers. He had made it to her desk. What was he looking for?
The chair striking the wall made her jump.
He searched through the spilled contents on the floor. The stapler. The notepad. Pens and pencils. Apparently not finding what he was looking for, he moved to the file cabinet, pulling out the drawers and emptying everything out. He cursed under his breath, then there was a long hesitation before she heard his footsteps again, coming back to the table.
Did he think to look there? Would he know she was in the room with him?
The floor creaked and the sheet moved. He was right above her…
Ria almost jumped out of her clothes when she heard another set of footsteps coming down the hall and stopping in the doorway. “Find anything?” the gruff voice asked.
A strong citrus scent combined with tobacco reached her nostrils. She recognized the stale cigar smoke, although it wasn’t a cheap brand. Her father was a smoker too.
“Nothing. I’ve searched the desk and cabinets. I know he had it with him,” the first man replied.
“He could have dropped it before he came here. We got to get out of here, Snake. This is a quiet neighborhood and anyone could have heard the lady scream.”
“You made sure she’s dead, right? We don’t want any witnesses left behind.”
“Yeah, I made damn sure. What luck she had to come at that moment. We sure did surprise her, didn’t we?” he snickered. “How are we going to find the shit now that the asshole is dead?”
“I know Cox. He came here for a reason. Did you clear the upstairs?”
“There’s just a small room. I looked through the dresser and some personal crap, but the broad doesn’t have much. She doesn’t even own a TV. Who doesn’t own a TV?”
“She’s blind, idiot,” the first man grumbled.
“That explains a lot. Damn place is like a museum. Too clean.”
“Shut up. I’m trying to think.”
“We better scram,” the second man continued.
“I have one more room to look through. I’m not leaving until I’m sure. Something just ain’t right here. Boss said she’d be home.”
“Who gives a fuck, Snake? Maybe she stepped out. She ain’t nothing to worry about anyhow. She can’t see. Let’s get the hell out of here before the fuzz shows up.”
Ria took a sip of air, still not daring to move, even after both men left the office and she could hear them in the back of the house searching through the laundry room. For now, they had no clue she was here in hiding…
They had killed Leandra. Tears filled Ria’s eyes.
Pulling herself together, Ria swiped her tears away as she mentally arranged the facts in her mind. Both men sounded mean…rough…and both had accents although the first intruder had a more prominent enunciation in his words. They weren’t from around town, or Wyoming for that matter. Maybe up no
rth. New York, maybe Brooklyn. Both were smokers, but one smoked cigars. One wore leather—a jacket or gloves possibly. The citrus scent had been strong. What was it from? A soap? The first man had an unstable gait. Did he limp? Or wore special shoes?
Time seemed to freeze. The men were still in the house.
Her legs cramped and, involuntarily, one leg muscle jerked and her foot struck the metal frame. She stilled her breath, listening. Had one of the men heard the noise?
The footsteps were returning. The man with the limp paused in the open doorway to the studio. How long would it take them to realize the table had a built-in shelf? Just as the killer had said, he wanted no witnesses left behind.
As she lay under the table, wondering if they would find her and kill her too, she practically suffocated in the strong smell of the man. His panic-induced sweat smell reminded her of a boy’s locker room.
What was he doing now? She could hear his heavy breathing, feel his presence, but he wasn’t moving. Then a shuffling to her right.
She prayed to God that the killers would leave and she’d stay alive. She hadn’t lived through the accident, the months of suffering and physical therapy, overcoming her disability, only to die at the hands of a murderer. They weren’t here for her. They’d come after Mason, but why? And why were they looking through her things? Because they believed he had hidden something here. She would know if he did. Wouldn’t she?
“What are you doing, Snake?” the second man said in a droned voice. “We gotta hit the road. We can’t push our luck.”
“I thought I heard something.”
“The place is clear. Let’s go.”
Another long hesitation and then the uneven footsteps disappeared sluggishly down the hall followed by the slamming of the front door.
She almost shouted in relief, but didn’t make a move to leave her perch under the table. What if this was a ploy? Maybe they were waiting. As soon as she moved from under the table they would shoot her and she couldn’t live to help the authorities catch the killers.
Seconds turned into minutes, until she’d lost track of how much time had passed. All she could hear was the loud silence and the beating of her heart. And still she waited.
Protected by the Lawman Page 4
