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Like Arrows (Cedar Tree #6)

Page 8

by Freya Barker


  "You okay?" I answer with a nod and he continues, "I can change the order if you like?"

  "Leave it, it's okay." My eyes slide to Emma, who's heard the exchange and gives me an encouraging nod. A moment later, Arlene slides plates in front of me and Emma, both omelettes. Mine ham and cheese, as Mal ordered, and hers mushroom. My mouth waters at the smells and as Arlene slides plates in front of the guys, I have a bite of mine, groaning a little when it hits my taste buds.

  "Seb's an amazing cook," Gus volunteers, loading up his own fork. "He's Arlene's better half—"

  "I damn well heard that, Gus bloody Flemming!" Arlene tosses over her shoulder while walking away from the table. Gus just chuckles.

  "As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, Seb and Arlene own this diner jointly and since the food is always amazing, we tend to meet here instead of in my offices at home. Although..." he says with a quick glance at his wife, "my wife's skills in the kitchen are close enough."

  "No need to butter me up, honey. I was already sold," Emma says, her eyes rolling mockingly.

  "I wanted you to meet with Gus, since he's the one who took on this real estate job to begin with. All the others," Mal says taking over, indicating the larger group sitting at the big round table in the corner, "they weren't really invited, but as you can see, it doesn't stop them from showing up anyway." I peek around Mal at the group at the table, finding only Naomi's eyes on me. The rest are deeply engaged in conversation. Naomi smiles and winks before she too turns her attention to whatever is being said. Must be something funny because everyone bursts out laughing.

  These people are close. Closer than just co-workers from the looks of things. More like friends.

  A pang hits my chest when I'm once again reminded how much I've missed. Hell—am missing. All because of some warped sense of self-protection. When it is ingrained in you, since childhood, that you’re not enough, that you fall short of expectations, only to have experience after experience confirm those words, into adulthood, eventually, you start to believe it. The harsh words spoken randomly over a lifetime become the soundtrack to your reality.

  As a result, I've held myself back from socializing, from making myself vulnerable to another person. Not until I met Kerry did I even come close, and still something holds me back from exposing myself all the way. I don't know why it is Emma's words that actually penetrate. Well, maybe I do. When I look at her I see someone very similar to myself. Even though I don't walk with a cane, I'm crippled by my body in a different way. Both by self-perception and by pain that regularly rages through my body without explanation.

  My eyes slide back to Naomi. There is another woman who has broken through somehow. Just by quietly listening to my issues last week, and instead of sending me home with another diet and exercise regime, immediately ordered tests to get to the bottom of it. I can't wait to find out what the results were on Monday. It's almost sick when you think about it, wanting for something to be wrong, but struggling a lifetime knowing your complaints are not a figment of your imagination. Beating down doors of doctors and specialists, only to be told it's all in your mind and if only you lose weight, you'd get better. It gets old. It's demeaning. It's absolutely debilitating.

  "Where are you?" the whispered rumble comes from Mal who I find leaning toward me. "You seem miles away. You haven't even really started eating yet."

  I look around the table and notice everyone's plate is empty while I have an almost complete omelet still sitting on mine. "Sorry," I mumble, forcing another bite in my mouth and feeling like a zoo animal at feeding time.

  This eating in public is definitely gonna take some work. If it was easy to stop thinking everyone is judging me, I would’ve done it a long time ago.

  Mal

  Despite the disastrous start to breakfast, Kim finally manages to eat half the omelet, and Arlene offers to pack up the other half for her. For a minute there she'd been lost to her thoughts and it was almost comical to observe a complete range of emotions play out on her face. I'd love to have a peek inside that head of hers.

  Gus used the time she was eating to tell us Neil had discovered that the deeds to the two farms bordering the Walker farm were now in the name of some obscure not-for-profit organization apparently devoted to preserving historic sites. The farms certainly weren't of any historic value but as is not uncommon here, the land often surprises us in revealing remnants of the days of the ancients. A partial kiva, some pottery, an occasional arrowhead. Some of that stuff is just lying there for the taking. So having a charity with a focus on preserving the history of the area is not too far fetched. But, as Gus explains, the fact that nothing, not an acting executive, not a board, not any living breathing person can be connected to this so-called philanthropic organization, is cause for suspicion. Enough suspicion that Neil and Gus are eager to get their hands on the flash drive, hoping it will bring some clarity on what we are dealing with.

  "One of the reasons the entire team is here is because we're committed collectively to finding answers," Gus says to Kim, "and keeping you safe. I'm sure you get that you might be in a dangerous situation here?" When she nods quietly, I put a hand on her knee under the table. She seems to need the assurance.

  "From what we can tell, no one knows you were there last night, but as his only employee, which I'm sure is a known fact, you would also be a loose end to them."

  "So no more going off to walk Boo alone. Even in broad daylight." I can't help reminding her of that stupid move earlier this morning.

  "Who the hell is Boo?"

  Arlene is back with a styrofoam container holding Kim's leftover omelet.

  "My puppy," Kim says and I throw my head back laughing.

  "Hardly a puppy, babe. More like a cow. Actually, he's exactly like a cow. He's got the spots and he's so gangly he can't walk a straight line."

  "He can too walk a straight line!" I'm glad to see the fire back in her eyes. She doesn't seem to have a problem challenging me, even though she can barely look anyone else in the eyes. Except maybe Emma, who is observing us with a little smile on her face.

  "Love dogs," Arlene offers. "Always wanted one but never had the time...still don't really."

  "My point was," Gus interrupts the talk of dogs. "That in order to keep you safe, it would be best for you to stay somewhere where it isn't so easy to find you. I'm thinking here in Cedar Tree where you'd have all of us at your back."

  I can tell she is moved by what Gus says but as soon as the reality of what he is saying penetrates, a crease forms on her forehead.

  "But where would I stay? I have all my stuff at my house, my dog."

  "There are a few options, actually. There is a fully self-sufficient guesthouse at the back of Emma and my place. You'd be welcome to bring your dog. Neil is staying there now but he can move to the motel easily for the time being."

  "Oh no. I couldn't do that. Put him out. No, I'll just stay at the motel?"

  It doesn't surprise me that she is not going for that option, but the motel is not an option for her.

  "They don't allow pets at the motel. Besides, it's only more difficult to watch out for you there. Motels and inns are the first place they'd look," I explain.

  This time Emma pipes up, "A friend of ours never sold her house when she moved in with her man. Her son was living there for a bit, but he's currently in training in Quantico so the house is empty. It's not big, but has a fenced back yard and is not too far from us."

  "That's too much trouble," her mouth says, but I catch the little spark of interest on her face, so I push a little harder.

  "Gotta stay somewhere, Nizhóní. Beth's house is actually perfect. Like Emma said, it's only a few streets over from her and Gus's place and it has a second bedroom, which means I won't have to sleep on the couch."

  At that, her head snaps up. "Why are you staying there?"

  “I live in a small apartment over the diner. There’s no room there and one of us will have to stay with you at all times. At
least until Neil has a chance to install a better security system. Can't take any chances if we don't even know who we're up against."

  "It's the smart thing to do, Kim. Trust me, I know how it feels to have your world turned upside down and alpha men sprouting on the spot, all wanting to protect you, but in the end what matters is that they do. It's worth a little discomfort while their doing it," Emma says and I notice Kim carefully takes what she says in carefully.

  "No shit," Gus says, as he smirks at Emma. "I never noticed I made you that uncomfortable?"

  "Oh hush. No one asked you," she says, punching him in the shoulder, which only makes him laugh harder.

  "But what about work?" Kim says to me, ignoring the interaction between the two people across the table.

  "Honey, I'm sorry, but with your boss dead, there is no job, right?" I suggest gently, watching her face as she swallows hard before lifting her chin in defiance.

  "That may well be, but I can't just leave our clients hanging. I at least have to notify them."

  "Shouldn't be a problem to haul whatever you need, computer and files, over to Beth's. We'll clear it with the Sheriff's Office first. We can't just walk in there, it's a crime scene. Which reminds me, we have to head down there to sign your statement. We should get going."

  I slide out of the booth and grab hold of her hand, pulling her with me. When she starts rooting through her purse and pulls out a wallet, I take the wallet from her hand and stuff it back in the bag.

  "But I need to pay for breakfast."

  "No you don't. Here, put on your coat and grab that take out container."

  "I pay my own way," she says stubbornly.

  "Fine. Then how about this, this one goes on my tab and the next one you can cook for me. Now say goodbye."

  Kim

  "Yes hi, Ms. Lowe, the sheriff is waiting in his office."

  Smiling at the older lady at the front desk, I see a door open on the other side of the barrier.

  "Thanks Carol," Mal mutters as he opens the gate to let me through.

  The moment I walk into Sheriff Carmel's office, he is out of his chair, coming around the desk.

  "Kimeo. Hope you slept okay after last night's events? Come sit down."

  "It's Kim," I say, uncomfortable when he puts his hand on my shoulder to guide me to the single chair in front of his desk. “I believe I mentioned that a few times already.” I sit down hoping to dislodge his hand, but his grip stays firm.

  "Right. I keep forgetting. We won't be long, you can wait outside, Mal," he directs behind me.

  "Not a chance. And Drew? You may wanna take your hands off her. I don’t recall her inviting you to do so." Mal's voice sounds even deeper than normal and there is no mistaking the underlying bite to it. The sheriff does immediately pull his hand back and takes a step back.

  "I want him to stay."

  His eyes flick from Mal to me and back before he nods his head once and retreats behind his desk.

  After that, it's a pretty straightforward procedure. The statement I gave last night is read to me, I'm asked if there's anything I'd like to add and then I sign. Mal asks when we can get my files and computer from the office, and the sheriff arranges to meet with us there on Monday. The whole thing lasts about thirty minutes.

  The sweet lady at the front desk, Carol, waves as we pass her, the phone at her ear.

  "So what now?" I ask, as soon as we're back on the road.

  "Now we go grab the dog and anything else you need from your house, pick up some groceries and head back to Cedar Tree to get you settled in."

  Settled in, that's a joke. There's no way I'll be able to settle with this man around. I'm far too aware of him and too self-conscious to be able to relax. I really don't want to be cooped up with Mal, but I get what everyone was saying at the diner this morning. The knowledge that they were all there in support says a lot about the kind of people they are, and I really don't want to cause anyone trouble.

  I'm just going over a checklist of things I need to pack, when Mal disrupts the surprisingly comfortable silence in the car.

  "Expecting visitors?"

  My eyes search out my driveway where Kerry is standing beside her car. Shit. Her angry eyes spot me through the windshield and don't let go until Mal pulls in beside her and turns off the engine.

  "My friend," I say by way of explanation. "We go to yoga every Saturday morning and for coffee after. I totally forgot about it." I jump down from the truck before Mal has a chance to come around and lift me down, and quickly move to Kerry whose mouth is set in a firm line.

  "God Kerry, I'm so, so sorry!"

  "Let me tell you about my morning," she starts, but Mal interrupts.

  "Let's move this inside," he says, ushering us both into the house where I'm almost bowled over by Boo who is quickly pulled away by Mal. I look over to Kerry who is standing at the kitchen counter, observing his movements as he grabs Boo's leash from the trunk, mouths a "be back" to me and takes off, my dog in tow. I can tell she is holding back on the shit storm she's about to unleash on me.

  "Seeing as it's Saturday morning, I headed over to the yoga studio, expecting to meet up with my friend, who I've been meeting there for the past year. Every Saturday without fail. I called her and didn’t worry too much when she didn’t answer, thinking maybe she was in the car, or perhaps in the shower and couldn’t hear. I tried calling again after yoga, and headed over to our coffee place, hoping she'd show up there. Then I considered that maybe her boss had finally shown up and called her into the office. Odd that she wouldn't let me know, but still I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt." When Kerry takes a breath, I discover from the search my hand conducted through the content of my purse, that said phone is probably somewhere here in the house. Sure enough, it's not a foot from Kerry's hands resting on the counter, where I forgot it this morning. I feel guilty when I see Kerry take a deep swallow and blink back tears. Oh boy. "I got worried when I was greeted by miles of yellow caution tape cordoning off her office building and the parking lot. It was then I got worried. So worried that after yet another unanswered call I popped into the nearby convenience store and found out there’d been a murder..." Kerry's voice has steadily risen during her diatribe and I wince when I think of how scared she must've been. I try to reach for her hand, but both hers come up in a defensive gesture. "It took me twenty minutes to find out it hadn't been you, lying somewhere on a cold steel slab, but a man instead. Then I got mad. Really, really ma—ad." She hiccups, losing the battle with her tears which are now rolling freely over her cheeks.

  "I'm so incredibly sorry, I didn't think..."

  "Well that's clear," she snaps, while wiping furiously at her cheeks. "Because I got here, and to my astonishment, you showed up ten minutes later with the guy I recognized from your description as the douchebag who called you fat—twice! Am I right?"

  "Well yes, but..."

  "There are no buts when it comes to men like that, Kim. Like I said before; he's an idiot if he can't see how gorgeous you are. Yet here you are galavanting around town with him."

  "But you don't understand," I try once more.

  "Worse," she interrupts me again, "You're ditching me to do it."

  "If you'd quit browbeating her for one second, she could explain things to you." I swing around at the sound of Mal's voice behind me. Fuck. How long has he been standing there?

  "I thought you were walking Boo," I say stupidly. "How long have you..."

  His eyes bore into mine. "Long enough, and your friend's right, I'm an idiot, but as to why, that is something I'll save for you."

  "You've got some nerve," Kerry jumps in. "What are you doing here? Cutting this woman down twice not enough? You wanna embarrass her some more?"

  "Please Kerry, if you’ll just let me explain—"

  "You know what? Guys like you are all the same, too shallow and dumb to be able to handle a real woman." Kerry just continues as if I never spoke and now Mal is right beside me wrapping his ar
m around my shoulders and pulling me tight.

  "I'm thinking it's three times now that you've either missed what Kimeo said or you just plain ignore her. Now you tell me? How are you not a douchebag? For fuck's sake she's right here, let her explain." With that he presses a kiss to my head and walks out of the kitchen. Kerry’s looks at me with her mouth hanging open and I'm frozen in the spot. Seriously, I can't move or think.

  Kerry leans over the counter and stage-whispers,

  "He calls you Kimeo? You don't let anyone call you that."

  My only answer to that is a shrug of my shoulders. I don't let anyone call me that. My father was the only one to ever use my full name and I loved it when he did. Made me feel special.

  "Kim?" Kerry pulls me out of my head. "Wanna tell me what's going on?" she asks softly. I pull out a stool, sit down, and tell her everything that’s happened over the last twenty-four hours. I never notice Mal rummaging around my house, gathering all my stuff and my dog's.

  Kerry does, her eyes never miss a beat.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Mal

  "I can't believe you went through my things."

  Kim is moping beside me as we head back to Cedar Tree. Boo is hanging over my shoulder, his tongue lolling from his mouth, surrounding me with his doggie breath. Lovely.

  We'd stopped at Safeway to get some supplies, most of which I added to the cart since if I'd left it to her, we'd have had a bag of dog food, the makings for salad and a bottle of fizzy water. Christ that woman can be stubborn. She tried to pay at the cash register and got in my face when I pushed her wallet back in her purse.

  "That's the second time you've done that. Third time is gonna cost you your hand," she hissed at me.

 

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