by Hope White
SIX
Cassie had never heard anything so ear-piercingly loud, yet the eerie silence that followed was even creepier.
She felt guilty about clinging to Nate like a little kid, and knew she should let go. Yet he’d been the one to reach for her. It wasn’t like she’d jumped into his comforting arms that held her snugly against his chest. The pressure of their embrace dissolved the ball of fear lodged in her throat.
Then she realized Nate couldn’t investigate what was going on outside with Cassie stuck to him like Velcro.
Releasing him, she stepped back. “I’m okay.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, go ahead. Do your thing.”
He called it in. “This is Chief Walsh. There’s been an explosion on Main Street. I can’t tell what it is or from where it originated. Send a patrol car and I’ll meet him in front of the Sweet Rose Teashop.” He pocketed his phone and looked deep into Cassie’s eyes. “I need you to stay here and lock the door behind me. Don’t let anyone in but me, got it?”
“Of course,” she said with false confidence. He must have read fear in her eyes because he didn’t move.
“Go, go.” She led him to the door and securely locked it once he left.
She stood there for a good minute, pressing her forehead against the aged wood, praying that Nate wouldn’t be harmed and he’d return quickly.
“Uh,” she moaned, going back to the sofa and grabbing her cup. Five minutes, she wanted five peaceful minutes to ground herself from the craziness.
Then she realized she had felt grounded the moment Nate pulled her into his arms. Wow, that was a first. She’d dated a few guys, sure, but she’d never felt calmed by any of them. Considering the current situation—being stalked and threatened—it was quite remarkable that she could feel grounded from a simple hug.
“Of course he makes you feel safe. He’s the police chief,” she said.
As the minutes ticked by, she grew more anxious about what was happening outside, wondering if Nate was okay. She padded to the living room window and peered down to the street. A cruiser with flashing lights was parked in front of her building, but there was no sign of Nate or the other officer.
“Where are you?” she whispered.
A sudden movement caught her eye. On the corner, she noticed a man standing under a streetlamp, lighting a cigarette.
And he was staring up at her.
She snapped back from the window, her heart racing. Now she was overreacting about everything. She wasn’t in danger. Shovel Man was in custody. The guy outside was probably out for a walk and happened to pause at the corner to light a cigarette.
As she was about to peek outside again, someone knocked on her apartment door. She gasped. How did they get into her building?
She slowly crossed the room and eyed the peephole. The hallway was empty. Taking a few steps away from the door, she whipped out her phone to text Nate.
“Cassie, open up!” her sister called.
Cassie eyed the peephole again. Bree stood there holding Dasher in her arms. Cassie flung open the door.
“How did you get in my building?”
“Key, remember?” Bree waved her key chain. “You going to let me in?”
Cassie motioned her inside.
“Mom wanted me to check on you,” Bree said, carrying the dog in one hand and a take-out bag in the other. “She told me to bring food.”
“Hey, Dasher.” Cassie grabbed him for a quick hug.
“Mom told me what happened. You seriously locked her in the pantry?”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time.” Cassie shrugged. “Thanks for bringing Dasher, and dinner.”
“I figured you could use the company.”
“I had company until a few minutes ago. Didn’t you see the police car out front?”
“I parked in back.”
“Chief Walsh was here.”
Bree quirked an eyebrow.
“Knock it off,” Cassie said. “He’s just doing his job.”
Bree’s phone beeped. She held it up. “Mom.”
“Go ahead, tell her I’m okay.”
Bree answered. “Hi Mom...Yeah, I’m with her now. She’s okay...I’ll tell her. Love you, too.” Bree pocketed her phone. “Mom says she loves you even if you won’t stay with her at the resort.”
“It’s safer for Mom this way.”
“I wish you would’ve called me instead of me having to hear about it from Mom,” she said in her hurt voice.
Bree had survived her share of violent situations, and Cassie wanted to spare her big sister more trauma.
“Cassie?” Bree prompted.
Cassie put Dasher down and watched him enjoy all the new smells of her apartment. “I’m okay...well, I was okay until we heard an explosion outside just now. Chief Walsh went to investigate. He said not to open the door to anyone but him and when you knocked, I couldn’t see you through the peephole.”
“I was picking up the dog, sorry. What is going on around here? First the body in the cabin, then a crazy man in urgent care, and someone tried to break into the farmhouse? How are you coping with all this?”
“I’m fine.” Cassie glanced at the window across the room. “I just wish Chief Walsh would let me know he’s okay.”
“Want me to look?” Bree started for the window.
“No, stay away from the window.”
“What? Why?” Bree studied her.
“I saw a guy out there. It’s probably nothing.”
“Honey.” Her sister took Cassie’s hand. “Never, ever ignore your instincts. If you think there was something off about the man outside, then respect that feeling.”
Bree knew a lot about trusting her instincts. She’d learned the hard way after surviving a relationship with an abusive boyfriend. She’d also found a wounded man in the mountains named Scott, and trusted her instincts that told her he was not a criminal. Scott turned out to be a wonderful man who was now Bree’s boyfriend.
“We’ll tell Nate about the strange man outside,” Bree said.
“No.” Cassie pulled her hand away. “I’m probably overreacting.”
“Or maybe not. Why don’t you want to tell him?”
Cassie sat on the sofa and Dasher jumped up beside her. “Nate’s got enough going on. He doesn’t need to deal with my paranoia about some phantom stranger.”
“That’s not it,” Bree challenged, joining her on the sofa. “Come on, out with it.”
“Look, he already thinks of me as his friend’s bubbleheaded little sister who talks way too much. Why add overreacting, hysterical woman to that list? I don’t want him looking at me that way. I want him to see me as...” Her voice trailed off as she noticed a wry smile playing across her sister’s lips. “What?” Cassie challenged.
“Nothing.” Bree winked.
“What’s with the wink?”
“Admit it, his opinion of you means so much because you kinda like him.”
“He’s the police chief. Everyone likes him.”
“I’m not talking that kind of like. I’m talking hugging and holding hands and—”
“Stop.” Cassie stood, grabbed the food bag and went into the kitchen. She had to get away from her sister’s teasing comments.
More like, unavoidable truth.
Drat, who was Cassie kidding? She’d been crushing on Nate Walsh for months and kept pushing it away, telling herself he’d never be interested in a naive chatterbox like her.
She also knew he was the exact wrong person to date because of his dedication to his job. She wanted to take off and explore the world, whereas Nate was firmly rooted in the community as police chief. He wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
“Cassie?” her siste
r said from the kitchen doorway. “I understand if you don’t want to admit it to me, but at least be honest with yourself.”
Cassie glanced at her sister. “Nate is not an option.”
“Why not?”
“I can’t stay here, Bree. I need to get out of this town.”
“Okay, well, make sure you’re running toward your dreams, not fleeing your problems.”
The apartment buzzer went off. Cassie pressed the intercom. “Hello?”
“It’s Nate.”
“Come on up.” She pressed the unlock button. A minute later she spotted his handsome face in the peephole. She opened the door and the dog burst into furious barks.
“Stop, Dasher, it’s Chief Walsh.” Cassie picked up Dasher and glanced into Nate’s eyes. “What was the explosion?”
“Someone started a Dumpster fire behind the hardware store. Probably kids needing a little excitement.” He glanced at Bree. “Hi, Bree.”
“Chief.”
He studied Cassie, cocking his head slightly. “What’s wrong?”
“What? I... What do you mean what’s wrong?” Cassie stumbled.
“Did something happen while I was gone?”
Cassie glanced at Bree, who bit back a knowing smile. Nate could read Cassie like a three-word text.
“Everything’s fine,” Cassie said, going to the sofa.
“She saw a suspicious guy outside and it freaked her out.”
“Bree!” Cassie snapped.
“Where?” Nate said.
“By the lamppost on the corner,” Cassie said. “It was probably nothing.”
“Stop denying those instincts,” Bree repeated.
“Good advice.” Nate went to the window. “No one’s there now. What did he look like?”
“Tall, wearing a baseball cap and smoking a cigarette.”
“She’s pretty jumpy,” Bree added.
“You can leave now,” Cassie said, half-joking.
“I don’t want to leave you alone.”
“She won’t be alone,” Nate said. “I’m staying for a while.”
“Good, well, there’s plenty of food for both of you.”
“Guys, I can take care of myself,” Cassie said, putting Dasher down.
“Bree, how about I escort you to your car,” Nate offered, and then looked at Cassie. “I’ll be right back.”
“Hey, don’t I get a say in any of this?” Cassie protested.
Bree hugged her. “Don’t argue. Enjoy his company,” she whispered in her ear.
“Stop.” Cassie playfully shoved at her sister’s shoulder.
“Did you want to keep the dog?”
“You should probably take him until all this is sorted out. He’ll have more fun at your place with Fiona, anyway.”
Bree picked up the dog and smiled. “Have a nice evening.”
Cassie’s cheeks must have reddened, because Bree darted into the hallway. Seemingly unaware of Cassie’s embarrassment, Nate followed Bree, and Cassie locked the door behind him.
* * *
Nate escorted Breanna safely to her car, then decided to walk the block to see if the suspicious-looking man Cassie had noticed was still hanging around. Other than the fire department making sure the Dumpster fire was out, Main Street was relatively quiet. There was no sign of the guy.
As he made his way back to Cassie’s apartment, his phone vibrated. He pulled it off his belt. It was his mentor, former Police Chief Washburn.
“Chief,” Nate said.
“Heard you’ve had a busy twenty-four hours.”
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying.”
Nate hesitated outside Cassie’s apartment building. “Have you been getting calls?”
“Just one or two.”
Which probably meant half a dozen, but the chief didn’t want to worry Nate.
“Do I need to hold a press conference?” Nate half joked.
“Nothing that public. But be willing to talk to people if they ask questions. It’s not every day a dead body shows up in town.”
“I get it, I do, but my primary focus has to be solving the case.”
“I hear frustration in your voice. If there’s anything I can do to help, I’m here, trying to enjoy retirement, and failing miserably, by the way.”
“Thanks. I might take you up on that offer. You’re around this week?”
“Around with a honey-do list in hand. Nothing that can’t wait. I’m serious, son, call if you need anything.”
“Will do. Have a good night.”
“You, too. And Nate?”
“Sir?”
“I recommended you for the job because I have one hundred and twenty percent confidence in your abilities.”
“Thank you, sir.” Nate ended the call.
What did Nate have to do to convince the townsfolk that he was a solid choice for chief, that he could protect them as well as Chief Washburn had for the past twenty years?
He went to Cassie’s building and she buzzed him in. Once upstairs, he spotted her peering through a crack in her apartment door.
“You took longer than I thought.” She motioned him inside.
“Got a call from Chief Washburn.”
“Everything okay?”
“As long as I solve this case by tomorrow, sure.”
“People have been calling him?” She sat down on the sofa.
“How’d you guess?”
“I’ve lived in this town for twenty-six years, remember? People worry when they hear things and don’t know what’s going on. It’s not a personal reflection on you or anything.”
“Thanks.”
“No, thank you for taking Bree to her car. You should have let her stay so you wouldn’t have to.”
“It’s my job.”
An odd, almost pained expression flashed across her face. She motioned to the TV.
“I was watching television, unless you’d prefer quiet.”
“Television’s fine.”
It didn’t surprise him that the station was tuned to a travel show.
He sat down on the sofa, a safe distance away from her. “So, Ireland, huh?” he said, nodding at the screen.
“England, France, Switzerland and eventually Australia, although that’s a superlong flight. I’d need tons of plane activities to get me through that one.”
“Plane activities?”
“Sure, movies, puzzles, books, you know, activities.”
He couldn’t help but smile. This woman fascinated him on so many levels, especially her enthusiasm for life and new experiences.
“You’re smiling,” she said. “It’s a good look on you,” she teased.
Again, as they drifted into natural conversation, he warned himself not to get too comfortable. “Other than the challenges of living in a small town, why are you so desperate to travel?” he asked.
“It’s a long story.”
“I’m not going anywhere for a while, remember?”
She shrugged. “I made myself a promise when I was a kid. As I lay in bed, praying my body would finally work the way it was supposed to, I promised myself that when I recovered I would visit all the places I read about in books. I would climb mountains and watch the Eiffel Tower light up on New Year’s. Too bad I hadn’t left last week, huh? That would have made my life so much simpler.”
He didn’t have a response for that, realizing how much he’d miss her once she left. “I’ll figure this out, Cassie,” he said, hoping to ease her fears. “I promise.”
* * *
A few hours later, after a pleasant meal courtesy of her sister, Nate found himself on the sofa beside Cassie as she watched a
nother travel program. His phone vibrated with an incoming call. It was Detective Vaughn. He started to get up.
“It’s okay. You can take it here,” she said, turning down the volume on the TV.
He sensed she wanted him to stay close, so he leaned against the sofa and answered the call. “Detective?”
“The perp’s license reads Len Pragner of Chicago. Someone saw him check into the Rushing River B&B, alone. I haven’t been able to question him. His injuries were worse than we thought, so he’s still at the hospital. Want me to stay?”
“No, see if Carrington can cover for a few hours so you can get some sleep.”
“Copy that. The deceased has been transported to the ME’s office.”
“Good. I’ll be posted outside Cassie McBride’s apartment tonight. I can’t risk her being alone, not until we figure out why someone’s after her.”
Nate felt pressure on his arm and glanced down. Cassie had fallen asleep against his shoulder.
“Any idea why she’s been targeted?”
“When the suspect stuck his head through the kitchen window he said if she told him where it was, he’d leave her alone. They want something from her, but the only thing she took from the cabin was the dog.”
“Strange,” Vaughn said.
“Have you found any connection between Pragner and our vic, Marilyn Brandenburg?”
“Not yet. I’ll do a more thorough check tomorrow when I get to the station.”
“Good night, Detective.” He ended the call and glanced at the blond-haired beauty leaning against him. He shifted to get up, but she was gripping his sleeve, mumbling something he couldn’t make out. She’d fallen asleep, and found comfort clinging to Nate’s jacket. He didn’t have the heart to wake her up.
As he puzzled through tonight’s events, his gaze drifted to the television program. The travel show reminded him that this, the feel of Cassie leaning against him and depending on him for comfort, was temporary. Still...there was no harm in enjoying the moment.
* * *
The next morning Cassie awoke up with a start, anxious and disoriented. She opened her eyes and focused on her antique nightstand lamp. She was in her bedroom, on her bed. Sitting up, she realized she was on top of the comforter with a blanket tucked snugly around her body.
