by Rachel Lee
Maybe she needed to return to therapy. She didn’t seem to be doing a very good job on her own. At least, not right now.
It would pass, though. One sick man peeking through her window couldn’t leave the kind of impression other things in her life had. No, he couldn’t. He was a trigger, nothing more.
Triggers could be handled.
She eased into deep breathing just about the time there was a rap on the door and Roger strode in. He had a large bundle in his arms.
“What’s that?” she asked, nearly sighing with relief as all the tormenting things eased away.
“Oh, a sleeping bag, an air mattress, a pillow.”
She felt her eyes widen. “But, Roger, there are three bedrooms upstairs. You could have a real bed.”
“I know. But I figured you’d rest easier if I was down here.”
He dumped the bundle on the floor.
“But...” She hardly knew what to say. She definitely felt touched, though.
“No buts,” he answered firmly. “Nobody can get in here except on the ground floor, and they’re going to trip over me. I have spoken.”
The way he said it drew a reluctant laugh out of her. “Your decree?”
“Absolutely.” He patted the pockets of the light gray windbreaker he’d donned. His hair still gleamed from being wet. Delicious.
“Yeah, here they are,” he said. “I was sure I’d tucked them somewhere.” From an inside pocket he brought out a bunch of packets. “Instant hot chocolate, for the man who forgot how to make the real stuff and doesn’t have the ingredients anyway. But I did forget to bring cream. It makes it more like the real thing.”
“Better that it has no cream.”
“Dang, the nurse reappears.” He winked as he passed her the packets. “We don’t need to make it right now. I just wanted it to be handy. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to stroll around outside.”
She tensed immediately. “Why?”
“To make sure all good people are in for the night. I’ll be right back.”
She supposed that should make her feel better. He’d clearly intended it to. Instead it threw her back into the dark places she’d been wandering lately.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” she said aloud and marched into the kitchen with the packets. She needed an off switch.
The curtains were like walls, she thought as she paused by the sink. The question was whether they were walling something out or walling her in.
Ugh.
She felt grimy from the day’s hunt, searching and packing. Flora had done her best, but Haley was buried in possessions and they had naturally grown dusty. She needed a shower.
But of course she’d once again left the front door unlocked so Roger could get back in, and that proved a bridge too far. She certainly didn’t want to lock him out, but disappearing into her grandmother’s bedroom and showering, which she’d been doing since she got here, had become increasingly difficult. Tonight, after her being jolted by that guy’s stride, it felt even harder.
Wait. Just wait until Roger returned. Then she could do it.
Tomorrow morning she was going to have a long talk with herself about backbone and the ridiculousness of letting one petty jerk resurrect a long-gone past. About letting herself become paralyzed by a fear that had no basis. At her age, who the hell was going to pull her through a bedroom window? No one.
How was anyone going to get into the house, as buttoned up and locked as it was? With a fire ax? She wished she could shake herself.
“Enough!” Only when she heard the word bounce back at her from a nearby wall did she realize she had spoken out loud. This was bad.
Just then, Roger returned. He closed the door behind himself and locked it. “All quiet except a bunch of people down the street drinking a little too much around a firepit.”
“I guess I should get out soon and meet the neighbors.”
He started to pull off his windbreaker. “I’d have thought most of them would already have come by. Maybe they’re under the impression that you won’t be here long.”
“Well, I dithered enough with the ladies from Grandma’s church. I still hadn’t made up my mind.”
“Are you changing it?”
“No. I refuse to.”
“Last stand and all that?”
Damn, he always seemed able to find some humor. She was going to envy him for it if she didn’t get over this hump and find her own sense of humor. “Not quite like that. Listen, I need a shower, so if you wouldn’t think I’m being rude...”
“Rude? C’mon. I invited myself over for a pajama party and just moved in on you. How could it possibly be rude of you to take a shower? Don’t think of me as a guest. I’m more of an invader.”
He always put a smile on her face, she thought as she headed for the bathroom. Always. He made her glad she’d decided to stay.
* * *
In the small foyer that turned on one side to the living room and on the other to the kitchen, Roger waited until her door closed behind her. The room was at the back behind the stairs, rather isolated at night. It was a wonder she hadn’t permanently retreated upstairs to sleep.
He looked for a convenient place to spread his air mattress out that would both allow him to prevent anyone from passing, yet not trip her if she needed to come out later. It wasn’t as if there was a whole lot of room. Well, she’d see how it was laid out when she finished her shower.
He spread everything out but didn’t blow up the mattress in case she wanted it elsewhere. Then he straightened again and walked around the downstairs. Like a fortress, which disturbed him.
The first couple of nights after the creep had looked in her window, it had seemed natural. But now it was passing that and driving home to him just how deep Haley’s scars really were.
Setting himself up as a watchdog seemed like a basically useless role. Yeah, she’d be able to sleep without fear, knowing she wasn’t alone in this house. Given the way she had looked this morning—worn out—and then the encounter with the guy on the street that had left her a bit shaken, maybe being a watchdog was the best thing he could do.
But he was itching to do more. A guy didn’t get to his age, single, without learning a certain amount of self-reliance and without becoming accustomed to being in control of most things.
This was all beyond his control, from Haley’s natural fears to his inability to shut down the cause of them. He definitely had to learn the identity of that guy from this morning so he could tell Haley and ask if she wanted to see him again to reassure herself.
But finding the voyeur who’d looked in her window? He reminded himself the cops were probably keeping an eye out for men who were on the streets at a late hour, watching for shadows lurking near houses or walking in the alleys between. Of course they were. He wished he could join them.
Haley had been wrecked enough by the man’s sickness. He’d hate to hear that any other woman had to fear sleeping with an open window.
He ought to look into getting her security cameras. At least she could sleep better knowing that if the guy showed up again, he’d be caught on video. Security cameras. In this town? Only a few businesses had them and none of the homes. Despite occasional evidence to the contrary, people in Conard City persisted in feeling safe in their homes. Many still didn’t lock their doors.
Hell, he felt safe, too. On warm summer nights he often left his inner doors open to let breezes waft through the screen doors. The only place he ever worried about was his shop. Expensive tools in there. Tempting to someone with light fingers or a need for money. Dangerous chemicals, too. He couldn’t risk a kid getting hurt. He’d invested in some pretty strong locks there...but not security cameras.
There was an upside to installing cameras here, though. Gossip about it might be enough to keep the pervert away.
The thought
of that guy made him sick. He’d read up on the subject online and hadn’t at all liked what he’d read. Perverts indeed. Twisted minds that left their victims scarred. Some even ratcheted up to violence.
Most didn’t, he reminded himself. They just took their sick thrills and fled. If they found easy prey, they’d return, but the way Haley had this place shuttered, it was unlikely this peeper would return here.
How many other women was he looking in on, women who didn’t notice? That question bothered him, too. To find this guy, they’d need more than one report.
But if there were no other cases...
He stopped midstep as he walked through the kitchen yet again. Restlessness worked on him, but as another thought struck him, it became more than restlessness.
What if, despite astronomical odds, it was the kidnapper of her childhood? What if...?
He shook his head, trying to move away from that thought. The kidnapper had to know from the reports following the incident that she hadn’t been able to give the police any identifying information. The guy had nothing at all to fear.
So even if he was living in this town by some weird chance, he didn’t even need to be worried about it.
Get real, Roger told himself. Even if she claimed her kidnapper was here, who could do anything about it? She couldn’t identify him and would be dealing with a child’s memory anyway. Who’d believe her, especially after all these years?
Rock meet Hard Place, he thought sardonically.
There was damn all he could do about any of this. Soon he’d absolutely have to get back to work, and while he was willing to camp out here as long as she needed him, he’d still have to leave her alone all day.
“Roger?”
He heard Haley call him from around the corner. “In the kitchen,” he called back.
She appeared in the doorway, wrapped in an electric-blue terry-cloth bathrobe. Her white nightgown, buttoned to her throat, reached all the way to her ankles, nearly touching the tops of her white ballet slippers. She was hiding behind another layer. His chest tightened with the recognition.
He cleared his throat. “I wanted to check with you before I inflate the air mattress. You need to be able to move around at night.”
“Sure. Were you looking for some of that hot chocolate?”
“Not exactly, but it sounds good. How about you?”
She nodded.
“Then take a seat. I can make instant anything.”
A smile flitted across her face as she pulled out a chair and sat. “You’re familiar with Grandma’s kitchen.”
“Believe it. The woman wouldn’t let me do things around here without feeding me. The last couple of years she started to want some help with what she considered to be a proper dinner.”
She nodded. “I feel so bad for not getting out here.”
“Don’t feel guilty, Haley. She didn’t let anyone know she was sick, and she wasn’t all that old. Why wouldn’t you expect another ten years at least?”
“I ought to have enough experience to know that’s a lousy bet.”
“Any of us could say that.” He filled the kettle and turned it on before pulling a couple of mugs from the cupboard nearby. “You okay with the way this cocoa is?”
“Absolutely.”
He brought the mixed cocoa to the table and sat facing her. “Maybe I should have offered you warm milk instead. It might help you sleep.”
She regarded him from eyes rimmed with fatigue. “I’ll sleep. I think I could sleep through a tornado. But I’m starting to get pretty disgusted with myself. This is a total overreaction to some creep looking in my window. It’s not as if he could pull me through a six-inch crack the way the guy did when I was a kid. Nor is it likely I’d ever be kidnapped again.”
“Not likely, no,” he agreed. “But don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“Why not? I’m not this person.”
He hesitated. “You had a can of worms opened and they’re wriggling all over the place.”
She wrinkled her face. “Ugh, what a description.”
“Well, I could have said snakes.”
At that, she produced a half smile. “Snakes doesn’t sound so silly. Anyway, I’m starting to feel ashamed. I’m overly preoccupied with this whole thing. I need to let it go.”
“Yeah?” Again he paused a moment, sipping his hot drink, framing a response. “Look it up online. Even without your past, victims of Peeping Toms can have problems for a long time. They don’t feel safe. They feel their privacy has been invaded. And more.”
“Really?” She frowned. “I haven’t had any experience with that.”
“I doubt it shows up in the ER very often.”
“True.” She shook her head a bit. “I also feel like I’m stealing your time. You have a life, Roger, and I’m not giving you very much room to live it.”
“Quit the guilt trip. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.”
Then she honestly smiled. “You’re a very good man, Roger.”
That warmed him all the way to his toes.
Overreaction to a simple compliment? Well, it had come from her, and maybe that was the important thing. Regardless, he enjoyed the feeling.
* * *
Edgar couldn’t stay away, even though that seemed like the wisest thing to do. There were plenty of streets he could meander along with Puddles that didn’t take him anywhere near Haley’s house. Flora’s house. Whatever.
This time he’d left Puddles at home. The dog stuck out at night, being all white. Wearing dark clothes, Edgar strolled along an empty street. On either side, a few windows still showed light, mostly from the back as if folks were tucked in. An occasional upstairs window flickered from a TV.
A nice summer night had begun. Windows were open, people enjoying the breeze, settling in for a pleasant night.
Only one house was completely dark, and that was his target’s. He wanted to cuss a blue streak when he saw Roger McLeod’s truck parked out front again. Didn’t that man have a life?
Plus, he was getting in the way. If Haley stayed much longer, Edgar would need to act. The chance that she’d recognize him after all this time was slim, but he’d noticed the way she’d frozen for a few seconds when she’d passed on the other side of the street. Something had jogged her memory.
Therefore, she was a huge danger.
He, also, wasn’t a patient man.
So how to deal with the two of them? Maybe he’d let a couple more nights pass. The grapevine didn’t seem certain that she was going to remain in town. If she’d just pack and go, it would be done, and he’d much prefer that. It wasn’t that he had a bloodthirsty streak. Not at all.
Here he was, standing on a darkened street in a town he’d started calling home, with a job he loved and didn’t want to give up. He needed to make sure he could keep what he wanted and not lose it to the memories of a young girl.
Every time he thought of getting the hell out of Dodge, he felt sick and his stomach cramped. Leaving would remove the problem entirely. But it also would mean giving up every damn thing he cared about. He hated her for that. Hated her.
So Edgar stood there in the dark, trying to figure out how he could handle this threat. He wished to hell Roger would just go back to his saddlery. For crying out loud, why was he stuck to Haley like a burr? He could have had any woman in town. The county’s most eligible bachelor. Well, mostly. But, no. For some reason he wasn’t trailing after some other woman. For some reason he couldn’t seem to stay away from this one.
The thoughts that had begun to fill his head nearly terrified him. He’d gone from thinking he could scare her away somehow to thinking of ways to kill her.
A shaped charge, maybe. He’d learned a lot about blowing things up in the Alberta tar fields, and he could make a directed charge that would blow a hole in her bedroom and no
t destroy much else. He knew he could.
But, man, to do that without leaving a trail? It wasn’t like he could buy much in the way of explosives without proving his identity somehow, and providing a description of their use. Maybe he could steal some from a ranch around here? He didn’t know, but he’d have to look into it.
Or he could set the house on fire. He’d have to think that through, but its major advantage would be that the woman would no longer have a reason to stay here.
Damn, he just wished she had gone home the night he’d scared her. That’s all he wanted: for her to leave him secure in his new life. Was that so much to ask?
He was reasonably certain that she wouldn’t be able to pick him out of a lineup, partly because she’d seen his face only briefly, just once. Partly because the years had changed him a lot. And partly because she hadn’t been able to describe him in any useful way all those years ago.
He didn’t want to kill her any more than he had wanted to kill her when she was five. But this time he would, if it appeared necessary.
Yeah, he would. Because life in prison seemed an awful heavy price for a stupid mistake when he’d been so young.
No way was he going to let that happen.
At this moment, Edgar believed he would choose killing her over anything else if she didn’t leave soon. He was sick of being a virtual prisoner in his house, afraid he might run into her somewhere.
All he’d have to do was get her alone somewhere. Breaking a neck was easy. So was using a knife. He’d seen both done in the past. He could do it.
So, damn her, she’d better leave town, soon. Because he had a right to live his life unfettered by fear.
Turning to walk home, he reminded himself that no one could trace him to Gillette. He’d erased all that from his history, and no one had thought to ask what he’d done during those couple of years because he’d worked for so long in Alberta. There was nothing left to tie him to Gillette.
Except Haley McKinsey.
Chapter 6
When morning arrived, Haley stretched luxuriously, feeling more rested than she had since the night of the Peeping Tom. The room was dark because of the heavy curtains, but the clock told her it was already past seven.
