by Irene Hannon
“You want some company?” She wandered after him. “I don’t know where Chuck went, and it’s kinda lonely here.”
“No.” He motioned to the jar in her hand. “Save me some, okay?” Just in case.
“Sure.”
As he stepped out into the late afternoon sunshine, he blinked against the glare. He’d been holed up in the trailer all day, and the dirty, shaded windows hadn’t even hinted at the brightness outside.
Shoving on his sunglasses, he trudged toward Bev’s car, no destination in mind. All he knew was that he had to get away from this place for a while. Before he succumbed to the lure of the meth. He’d come too close a few minutes ago.
He knew why too. The plan he’d concocted for Alison Taylor when he’d been high had buoyed him up. Made him feel powerful and in charge. But as he’d begun to crash, his confidence had wavered. Doubt had begun to undermine his conviction that he could pull it off. He’d messed up everything he’d ever tried. Why should this be any different?
If he didn’t try, though, she’d win.
That didn’t sit well with him either.
He slid into the car. What he needed to do was get himself all riled up again. That would boost his determination.
And all at once he knew exactly how to do that.
Shifting into gear, he bumped down the rutted, gravel driveway and aimed the car toward St. Louis.
“That was a fabulous dinner. Thank you.”
As Alison smiled at him across the snowy expanse of white linen, Mitch was glad he’d opted for the high-end Italian restaurant on The Hill. It was quiet, elegant—and far safer than a sidewalk café in the Central West End, charming as those were. From his seat, he had an excellent view of the entire room and the doorway to the lobby. They were steps away from a fire exit. They could be out of here in seconds, if necessary. The favorable setup allowed him to focus on his lovely companion rather than security concerns.
“Would you like some dessert?”
She groaned. “I can’t eat another bite.”
“Coffee?”
“I usually drink tea, but coffee does sound appealing tonight.”
He signaled to the waiter, and two minutes later they both had steaming cups in front of them. When Alison added two packets of sugar and a very generous dollop of cream to hers, Mitch’s lips twitched.
She caught his reaction and stopped stirring. “What?”
“Maybe you should have ordered a mocha.”
“Very funny.” She wrinkled her nose at him. “You sound like my brothers again.”
After her trauma with Bert, he hadn’t expected her to be in the best of moods tonight. But she’d surprised him. While she was more subdued than usual, she’d responded to his light banter throughout the meal. He’d even managed to elicit a few quiet laughs.
“I thought we’d gotten past the brother thing.”
She smiled at him over the rim of her cup as she brought it to her lips. “We have.” Setting the cup back in its saucer, she grew more serious. “I appreciate all the effort you went to tonight to give me a pleasant evening.”
“It was no effort.” He reached across the table and captured her fingers in his. They felt small and delicate and vulnerable—an impression that did nothing for his peace of mind, considering bingo man was still on the loose. “I hope we can have a lot more evenings like this in the future.”
“I hope so too.”
She met his gaze, responding to his comment with a sweet, simple honesty that touched his heart. He was quickly learning that unlike many of the women who’d sought his attention through the years, Alison Taylor didn’t play games. You knew where you stood with her at every moment. He found that refreshing. And very, very appealing.
Stroking his thumb over the back of her hand, he decided to be just as candid. “You know, you’re different from any woman I’ve ever met.”
She studied him, a flicker of uncertainty shadowing her blue irises. “Is that good or bad?”
“Good. In every way.”
The shadow vanished, and she looked down at their entwined hands, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I ran into Erik Campbell today at the grocery store.”
“Did you?” It was an odd subject to introduce, but Mitch knew Alison had a reason for bringing it up. She wasn’t given to non sequiturs. He waited while she ran her fingernail around the base of her stemmed water glass.
“He asked me if I had a boyfriend.”
Now he got the connection. “What did you tell him?”
She transferred her attention to him again. “I said no.”
His spirits nose-dived.
“I figured it was too soon to say yes, since we’ve only known each other for a couple of weeks. But can I tell you something? Even in this short time, I’ve realized that what I had with David would never have led to the connection I already feel with you.” She moistened her lips, telling him she was nervous. Yet she didn’t break eye contact. “I hope this doesn’t scare you off, because I’m not suggesting we speed things up. But I’m hopeful at some point down the road, boyfriend might be the perfect way to describe you.”
His mood took a decided uptick.
“Can I tell you something? That doesn’t scare me off in the least. Just the opposite.”
Soft color suffused her cheeks, and she lifted her cup of coffee in a salute. “Given all the rough spots we’ve encountered in our short acquaintance, shall we toast to happier tomorrows?”
He picked up his cup and clinked it against her. “I’ll drink to that.”
And as he sipped his coffee, his fingers still entwined with hers, he realized that despite the trauma that had marred their relationship so far, his life was already happier than it had been in a long, long time.
But it would be even happier once they got rid of the stalker who was tormenting Alison and giving him a chronic case of insomnia.
“Mom!”
At Kyle’s frightened summons from the other side of the bathroom door, Nicole’s pulse vaulted into double time. She twisted off the shower and lurched out of the tub.
“What is it, honey?” After toweling herself dry as fast as she could, she grabbed her robe off the hook on the back of the door and shoved her arms into the sleeves.
“I think that man is in the parking lot.” His muffled voice quivered with alarm.
She didn’t have to ask who “that man” was. Since Daryl had shown up last Tuesday, she’d found herself constantly looking over her shoulder. She’d also kept Kyle on a short leash. He had strict orders to stay with his group during aftercare at school and not to wander into remote corners of the playground during recess. They’d gone to the park yesterday, but again, she’d stuck close. And she’d asked him on several occasions, doing her best to keep her tone casual, whether he’d seen Daryl anywhere. The answer had always been no, but she could tell the question upset him.
Now this.
Pulse accelerating, she opened the door. Kyle’s eyes were too big in his solemn face as he grabbed her hand.
“Come on, I’ll show you. I heard a noise in front. That’s why I looked out. I saw him right away.”
He started back toward the living room, but she tugged him to a stop. Although she kept the blinds closed at night, the lights were on in there. If she cracked them, it would be apparent from the outside.
“Let’s look from your bedroom.”
Keeping a firm grip on his hand, she led him to the darkened room and shut the door behind them. Then she felt her way across the carpet. Once her toe connected with the toy chest that rested on the floor under the window, she helped him climb up. “Okay, honey, where is he?”
She cracked one of the slats in the blinds so they could peer out. Two seconds later, she felt his shoulders droop.
“He’s not there anymore. I guess he left while I came to get you.”
She exhaled slowly. Now what? If Kyle had seen Daryl, she’d have no compunction about calling the police. She’d war
ned him away twice, and he had no business hanging around her parking lot. That was stalking, and it was against the law. But if she lodged a complaint and Kyle was mistaken, she’d be bringing more trouble down on a man who’d already had plenty and who might be trying to build a new life.
“What was the man doing, Kyle?”
“Sitting in his car. Right there.” He pointed to an empty parking spot a few doors down from the entrance to their building. “And he was looking up at our apartment.”
“Are you sure it was the same man, honey? It’s really dark out there.”
“I’m pretty sure.” He scrunched up his face. “Somebody had a flashlight or something down there, and it shined into his window. He kind of ducked down when that happened, but I saw his face for a minute.”
Nicole knew her son had keen observation skills. He often surprised her by noticing things most kids would never spot. An unusual pattern of lighted windows in an office building. A tiny flower growing in the cracks of an old wall. A small scar on a passerby’s forehead. She was certain he’d taken note of Daryl’s features the day she’d talked to her former boyfriend.
Still . . . with the darkness and the quick glimpse he’d had, he could be wrong.
“Was he driving that same truck, Kyle?”
“No. It was a dark-colored car.”
A different vehicle. That shot a few holes in Kyle’s story. She’d been surprised Daryl had access to one vehicle, let alone two.
Torn, Nicole helped her son down from the toy chest. Then she crossed to the wall switch and flipped on the light, bathing the room in a warm glow from the bedside lamp.
“So what are you gonna do, Mom?” He looked up at her, his features taut.
“I don’t know, honey. I need to think about it. And we’ll both keep watching for him until I decide, okay?”
“Okay.” He poked at the corner of his mattress, eyes downcast. “Could I sleep with you tonight?”
At his plaintive request, a pang echoed in her heart. She’d tried so hard to give Kyle a sense of security and safety. Now, Daryl had undermined that. Even if it hadn’t been him outside tonight, his reappearance in their lives had been disruptive. She fought down a rising tide of anger, determined not to further upset her son.
“I think that would be fun.” She summoned up a smile, hoping he wouldn’t notice it was strained around the edges, and pulled him into a tight hug. “We haven’t done that in a long time.”
She could feel the tension ease in his body.
“I’ll get my stuff.”
As he scrambled for his pajamas, Nicole was still undecided about how to handle the situation. So she did what she’d learned to do over the past three years whenever she’d been confronted by a difficult problem.
She put it in God’s hands, with a plea for guidance.
That had been close. Too close.
Lifting his arm, Daryl tipped his head and wiped the film of sweat off his upper lip with the sleeve of his T-shirt as he pulled onto I-55 south. Nicole’s brat had seen him. No question about it. The way his eyes had widened had been a dead giveaway.
He should have left when he’d spotted those kids playing with that flashlight.
Well, it was too late for second thoughts. If he was lucky, Nicole would tell her son he was imagining things. If he wasn’t . . . no one knew where he was staying. And they couldn’t prove he’d been in the lot even if they did find him. No one else had seen him. He was safe.
The good news was his visit had done the trick. As he’d sat there looking at Nicole’s apartment and envisioning himself living there instead of in Chuck’s hovel, his anger had returned. Hot enough to convince him he needed to put the finishing touches on his plan and then carry it out.
Alison Taylor deserved to suffer for sticking her neck in where it didn’t belong and ruining his life.
Tonight, after he got back, he’d do one more line of meth to clear up his thinking so he could nail down all the details. He wanted to be ready to move by Tuesday.
In the meantime, he’d enjoy thinking about how he’d been making her life miserable. If she hadn’t gotten his love letter today, it would be waiting in her mailbox when she got home from work on Monday. While she spent a sleepless night worrying, he’d be going over his plans. Everything had to be in place before he made his move. There couldn’t be any slipups.
And if he was lucky, if he did this right, for once in his life he’d prove his old man wrong and not mess up.
15
“Good night, Rog.”
“’Night, Alison. I’ll watch from the window until you get to your car.”
Alison gave the uniformed, middle-aged security guard in the lobby of her building a resigned look. “My brother called you, didn’t he?”
He grinned back at her. “Can’t blame a guy for wanting to take care of his sister.”
She sighed. “I guess not. See you tomorrow.”
With a wave, Alison exited the South County strip mall office space that was shared by multiple state agencies, then set off across the parking lot. It had been a busy Monday—but not as productive as she’d hoped. Her thoughts had kept wandering to the dinner she’d shared with Mitch on Saturday . . . and the Sunday service she’d attended with him and his father yesterday.
Mitch had suggested the latter when he’d dropped her off at Cole’s, after he’d asked about her plans for the next day and she’d mentioned church. Although Cole had already offered to take her and pick her up, he hadn’t been in the least disappointed to hear she’d made other arrangements.
One of these days, she’d get to the bottom of his faith crisis.
But at the moment, she had too many other issues to deal with.
Once in her car, she locked the doors, pulled out her cell phone, and dialed her brother’s number. He answered on the first ring.
“Hi, Alison. What’s up?”
“When did you talk to Rog?”
“Who?”
“The security guard at my building.”
She heard him expel a frustrated breath. “Don’t make an issue of it, okay?”
“I’m not making an issue of it. I just asked a simple question.”
“I called him last Friday.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
There was a brief hesitation, as if he was debating whether her expression of gratitude was sincere. “You’re welcome.”
She put her key in the ignition and smiled at his cautious inflection. “I need to stop by my house and pick up three days’ worth of mail. It’s probably falling out of the box.”
“Could you ask a neighbor to get it?”
“Yes, but I’m sure there are a couple of bills in there that need attention. I can reach it without getting out of my car. I’ve done that in rainy weather. Then I’ll come straight to your place.”
“I guess that will work. Promise to stay in the car, though. No matter what.”
“You have my word.” She pulled her seat belt across her lap and clicked it into place.
“Are you planning to cook tonight?”
She smiled at his hopeful tone. “Yes. Baked chicken, mashed potatoes, broccoli au gratin. I might even whip up some chocolate chip cookies.”
“Wow.” His response came out hushed. Reverent. “Look, I’ll be home as soon as I can, okay?”
“I had a feeling that menu might light a fire under you.”
“Hey, you can’t blame a guy for looking forward to a home-cooked meal. Since Mom moved to Chicago, I’ve been relying on takeout and nuking.”
“You could learn to cook.”
“Not likely. See you later.”
As Alison tucked the phone back in her purse and started toward her house, her thoughts shifted to the encouraging conversation she’d had with Ellen Callahan today. The woman had seemed receptive to all the ideas Alison had suggested, and she’d already reviewed the GED information Alison had dropped off at her apartment on Thursday.
With each day that passed, A
lison was more confident her assessment of the woman was accurate. Like Nicole Larson four years ago, Ellen was determined to get her children back and build a better life for herself. Now she just had to demonstrate that commitment to the judge.
Twenty minutes later, when she turned onto her street, she remembered her promise to Cole and pulled close to the mailbox. As she’d feared, it was packed. She had to twist in her seat and tug at the envelopes and circulars with both hands to dislodge them. Mostly ads and junk mail, she confirmed with a quick glance.
After dumping the first batch on the seat beside her, she pulled out the rest and tossed it on top of the pile, eyeing the mess in disgust. Sorting through it would be a welcome, mindless task for after dinner. Followed by some nice, relaxing knitting.
And if Mitch happened to call, maybe she could round out her evening with a trip to Ted Drewes.
Smiling at that thought, she closed the mailbox and headed for her brother’s.
She wasn’t staying at her house.
Slowly making a second run past Alison’s street, Daryl watched her pull away from her mailbox. He’d followed her here from her office, which had been a breeze to track down. There were only four locations for the Children’s Division of Social Services, and he’d guessed right on the second call. He’d simply asked for her, then hung up while the call was being transferred. It hadn’t been hard to blend in at the strip mall parking lot while he’d waited for her to get off work either.
It was tougher to be inconspicuous here, but he doubted a moving car would attract much notice. After she exited her street, he’d follow her to wherever she was staying. He didn’t think that information would be important to his plan, but you never knew when some nugget might be useful.
Once she was en route to the main road, Daryl fell in behind her, maintaining a safe distance. Feeling smart. And in control. Maybe he shouldn’t have caved over the weekend and done two more lines, but they’d bolstered his courage—and confidence. Plus, they’d helped clarify his thinking.
As Alison pulled into the eastbound entrance ramp for I-44, he edged over a lane to do the same, going over his final plan in his mind. After a lot of thought, he’d decided not to blindfold her, as Chuck had suggested. Why go to all that effort if he couldn’t see the fear in her eyes? That was the payoff.
