Protective Custody

by Wynter Daniels

  “Good morning, Miss Megan.” A middle-aged woman in a blue smock and pants smiled at her from the reception desk.

  Megan racked her brain to recall her name.

  “Patty,” she prompted, showing off her security badge.

  She gave the woman a warm smile. “Right, thank you. Morning, Patty. Promise I’ll remember next time.”

  Patty waved away her apology. “Your grandmother is in the day room. They’re all watching some silly talk show.” She shook her head.

  “Thanks.” Megan marched down the hallway, her sandals clacking on the polished terrazzo floor. The smell of disinfectant assaulted her. She stopped at Gram’s room and set the candy on the night table. A bouquet of yellow roses sat on the dresser. Curiosity niggled at her. She stepped closer to the flowers and searched for a card. Not finding one, she made a mental note to ask Gram about it. Giving the room a quick visual inspection, she noticed the bed was unmade. She dropped her purse on a chair and straightened the covers, then went to find Gram in the day room.

  She spotted Gram sitting with three other elderly women in front of the large television. The sight of her ashen complexion instantly tightened Megan’s chest. She circled behind the women and bent to kiss the top of Gram’s head.

  Gram turned and glanced up at her. “Hello, sweet girl. Don’t you smell good.” She straightened her pink sweater over her shoulders. “Where’s my candy?”

  Megan chuckled. “In your room. How did you know?”

  She poked a long, thin finger at Megan’s face. “You always bring a box after you’ve missed your regular day.”

  Guilt kicked her in the teeth. Had she really missed so many visits that Gram had picked up on a pattern? She didn’t dare tell her she didn’t have much time today. “Do you want to stay here or take a walk in the garden?”

  “Let’s walk. It’s probably still cool enough.” She pushed up, then teetered a moment before steadying herself. Had her balance worsened?

  She stepped toward Gram and hooked her arm.

  “You don’t have to help me, you know.” Gram didn’t make a move to shake off her assistance, though.

  Megan grinned. “Maybe I need you. I always have, you know.”

  Gram stopped walking and faced her. She crinkled her brow and put a finger to her mouth. “Something’s different about you. You got a new boyfriend or something?”

  Megan swallowed hard, then immediately schooled her expression. She’d never been able to hide much from her grandmother. “’Course not. But it looks like you do. Who sent you those pretty flowers?”

  “Changin’ the subject won’t keep me from asking about you, honey.” She stopped at the window and pointed to the low hedge at the side of the garden. “That’s where my gentleman caller came into the yard.”

  Megan studied her face, trying to decipher if Gram was talking nonsense again. “What gentleman caller, Gram?”

  Her eyes widened. “A big man. White, like your daddy. He had dark hair and broad shoulders. Told me he’d take me away if I wanted. On a real vacation, like Niagara Falls.” Her face turned serene.

  Megan’s heart thundered. “Wh…when was this?” Could the murderer have come here? To see Gram? Hot shards stabbed at her temples. She’d speak to the security people to see if someone coming over that hedge was even possible. She threaded her fingers together to keep her hands from shaking.

  Gram pointed over her shoulder. “Mrs. Martin’s son is finally divorced. You want to meet him?”

  Talk about changing the subject.

  “Why would I want to do that?”

  “’Cause you ain’t got yourself a man. Or do you?” She eyed Megan suspiciously.

  “I already told you, I don’t.” Gram would have a fit if she found out about Will. But technically they weren’t really dating. They’d just slept together. That didn’t count. Unless they kept at it.

  No. I can’t let that happen.

  “You tell this old woman lots of things just to make me happy. But I know you too well, honey.” She stopped when they reached the door to the garden.

  Megan held it open for her and ushered her through. The moment she stepped outside, a strange feeling overtook her, like someone was watching her. She glanced around but didn’t see anyone.

  Who the hell had come to see Gram? Was this man real or her imagination? “Pretty cool for November, huh?”

  Gram let out a hearty laugh. “It must be nearly eighty degrees out here. You’re just like your mama. She likes it hotter than blazes out. She put on a sweater a few days ago in church when half the congregation was fanning themselves with their programs.”

  Megan froze. “Gram, Mama’s been gone for more than twenty years.”

  “Well, of course she has, sweet girl.” She sat on a bench and lifted her face toward the sun. “Enjoy the sunshine while it lasts. Weatherman says it’ll rain soon. And my joints confirm that.”

  Megan sank onto the seat beside her. She’d have to mention Gram’s reality lapse to the case manager or to Dr. Odell. Her stomach clenched at the thought that Gram might be heading into dementia. But it would explain why she’d mentioned Jerome the last few times they’d spoken as if he and Megan were still dating. She’d rather hope for dementia than that Gram was being stalked by a killer.

  “You ever try one of them singles dances at church? That’s how Lizbeth Carter met her husband, and they been married ten years.”

  Megan forced herself not to roll her eyes. Gram had never tolerated such disrespectful gestures. “Why would I want to do that? I have no problem meeting men. If and when I ever plan to marry, you’ll be the first to know. Well, the second, actually.”

  “If you ever marry? Of course you will, a beautiful girl like you. I just hope it happens soon.”

  “Why? I don’t need a man. I make good money and I already own a home. You don’t have to worry about me, Gram.” She patted her grandmother’s bony hand.

  “You gonna give me some of that feminist dribble again? Don’t you think this old woman wants to see her girl in a fancy white dress walking down the aisle at church? I want to hold a grandbaby on my lap.” Her eyes glistened.

  Megan dared not continue arguing. Gram’s tears always ripped her heart out.

  Change the subject.

  “Did I tell you the company gave me a raise last month?” Gram always loved having a tidbit like that to take back to her friends.

  “They did?” Her face brightened, and Megan’s mood lifted.

  “What man wouldn’t want to marry a girl like you?”

  Gram would never change. Shaking her head, she laughed. “What am I going to do with you?” She checked her watch.

  “We’d better go in,” Gram said. “Almost time for morning bingo. I want to get a seat near the window so I can watch the storm.”

  After she took Gram back inside, she made her apologies, then left her in the day room with the others. She stopped at the desk on her way out.

  The same woman was sitting there writing in a file.

  “Excuse me, Patty?” she said.

  “Yes?”

  Grasping the edge of the counter to steady herself, she cleared her throat. “My grandmother says a man came over the hedge and spoke to her about taking her on a vacation. I know it sounds ridiculous, but Gram’s never been delusional before.”

  Patty’s smile faded. “It’s common at her age for that to happen.”

  “But what if she’s not delusional? What if a man really did come over the hedge?”

  Patty laughed. “Now you know that’s not the case.”

  She wanted to hear how their security measures would prevent such a breach, but Patty offered no such defense.

  She patted Megan’s hand. “I’ll speak to the doctor. Dementia can come on anytime at her age.”

  But Megan wasn’t so sure that was what it was. What if the killer knew where Gram lived?

  What if he hurts her merely to frighten me?

  No. Patty was probably right, had
to be. Drawing a calming breath, she headed toward her car. She slipped behind the wheel and found some mellow music on the radio. The drive out to the house would relax her. She merged onto the interstate toward the property where she was to meet her prospective client. A few raindrops pelted her windshield. Tall pines on the sides of the highway swayed in the building wind.

  She glanced toward the sky at some angry-looking rain clouds.

  Gram always knows.

  When she returned her attention to the road, her breath caught. A black SUV with tinted windows in the lane next to her drifted to the right and into her lane. Her heart hammered as she punched the horn.

  But the other car didn’t steer away. In fact, it pushed closer. “Oh God.” She glanced to her right at the shoulder, but the steep embankment dropped off sharply.

  I have nowhere to go.

  Curling her fingers into the wheel as tightly as she could, she stomped on the brake. The SUV skimmed the front of her car, sending her into a tailspin. She screamed as she made a complete three-sixty on the edge of the wet highway. Her field of vision spun into a terrifying gray haze that seemed to go on forever. She braced herself for a crash, every muscle tight, every nerve on high alert.

  Then suddenly she came to rest on the narrow part of the shoulder before the drop-off. Stunned, she watched the SUV speed away. She leaned her head against the steering wheel and caught her breath, grateful to be alive.

  Had the other driver even seen her? Maybe it hadn’t been an accident, but an attempt on her life. Still shaking, she climbed out of the car and checked the side for damage. Only a slight dent and a long scratch marred the front panel. Raindrops splashed on her face. She scanned the nearly empty highway, then returned to her car, slid behind the wheel and locked the door.

  Could the killer be after her again? That thought sent a shiver of panic over her skin.

  She waited for her heart to slow down, then reached for her phone and tried Will. His voice mail told her he’d return her call. Her mouth was so dry, she wondered if she could even get a few words out.

  “Will, it’s Megan. I think someone tried to run me off the road just now. I’m not positive, but…” She sighed. “Give me a call. I’m heading to one of my properties to meet a possible new renter.” Drawing a steadying breath, she shoved the cell into her purse, then pulled back onto the road.

  By the time she arrived at the cottage she’d calmed down. The For Rent sign swung in the breeze in the front yard. There were no other cars there. Unease prickled her skin, but she shoved it away.

  What’s the matter with me? I meet customers in vacant houses all the time.

  She glanced around at the secluded area and swallowed a wave of nausea. Probably her brush with the SUV was making her skittish.

  She climbed out of her car, then negotiated the flagstone stepping-stones to the door. It never hurt to make sure the property was in tip-top shape before the potential renter arrived.

  Shaking off another chill, she unlocked the door and let herself inside. The room was dark, so she opened the curtains, but the cloudy day didn’t brighten the place as much as she’d hoped. A musty smell drifted to her nose. Crossing the small living room, she found the thermostat and switched on the air conditioner. That done, she pushed through the swinging door to the kitchen to make sure the cleaning crew had done a good job.

  A blur of black lunged at her. Gasping, she flailed her arms, tried to shove it away. But he wouldn’t stop coming. Tremors racked her body, weakening her knees. The man circled his arm around her neck. Her pulse pounded in her ears so loud she couldn’t hear anything else. Struggling against the pressure, she clawed at his shirt. Then he lifted her off the floor. She tried to kick at him but kept missing. She couldn’t catch her breath. She gasped for air, desperate to hang on to consciousness. Stars floated before her eyes.

  No!

  She twisted, scratched at his arms, but nothing she did made any difference.

  I should have told Will I love him last night.

  She fought the man until her strength ran out. Her field of vision shrank to a hazy point. Then everything went black.

  ***

  Will latched the door lock at Megan’s house, then started toward his truck. His cell chimed, alerting him that he had a message waiting.

  What the hell?

  Stupid thing hadn’t even rung. He dialed his voice mail and smiled at the sound of Megan’s voice.

  His shoulders tightened with tension as he listened to her message. He immediately phoned her, but she didn’t answer.

  “Where the hell are you, Megan?” He climbed inside his truck, then called her office.

  “Southern State Vacation Rentals. Betsy speaking.”

  “Betsy, this is Will. I need to know the address where Megan is meeting a client.” He took a tablet and pen from the well in the dashboard.

  “Hmm. Sorry, Will. No can do. I already got chewed out for giving another guy that information.”

  He gritted his teeth. “Look, it’s an emergency. I think she might be in danger.” He started his truck, then headed out of the neighborhood.

  Betsy stuttered and stalled. “I don’t know.”

  Grasping his cell in a death grip, he held back an angry growl. “Now!”

  Before I come down there and hurt you.

  She huffed loudly. “Jeez. Fine. Here it is.” She read him the address in a snippy tone and hung up.

  He’d deal with her later. Important thing was he knew where to find Megan. He merged onto the highway and gunned his motor. He made it to the house in less than ten minutes. Megan’s car sat in the driveway.

  Alone.

  The hair on the back of his neck stood up. He tucked his gun into his belt, then jumped out of the pickup and ran to the door. Lucky for him it wasn’t locked. The moment he entered Megan’s voice electrified him with terror.

  “Help!”

  Only he didn’t see her. “Megan! Where are you?”

  She stumbled into the room through a swinging door. Her hair was mussed, and her blouse was half-untucked. “Thank God you’re here.” Her chest heaved, and she looked as though she’d fall over if she took another step.

  Panic tore through him. He raced to her in an instant and pulled her into his arms. She crumpled against him, then gestured toward the door she’d come through. “He tried to strangle me. You saved my life.”

  His temples throbbed. “Who?”

  I let her down.

  Guilt swirled his gut. God, he’d almost lost her.

  “A man. The murderer. I’m sure of it. I think he ran out the back when he heard your truck.” She paused and sucked in a loud breath. “He tried to strangle me, and I blacked out. When I came to, he was hovering over me.” She buried her face in his shirt.

  He grasped her shoulders. “Are you all right? Did you see his face?”

  “I’m fine.”

  But already a red bruise was forming on her neck. Her blood was almost on his hands. Like the man he’d shot. But if he’d lost her, a big part of him would have died too. He hugged her against his chest and clenched his jaw. “I’ll never let anything happen to you. Never again.”

  “I didn’t see what he looked like. He had a black ski mask over his face. He was covered from head to toe.” She pushed away and looked up at him. “This wasn’t your fault, Will. Please don’t blame yourself.”

  Her words did little to assuage his guilt. “As long as you’re okay, I’m going after him.”

  She nodded and stepped back. “Please be careful, Will. I…I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  He managed a smile. “I feel exactly the same way.” Giving her a wink, he charged through the swinging door into a small kitchen. He spotted the back door, still hanging open. And a chair on its side.

  Clenching his fists, he raced into an expansive yard edged by thick woods. He drew his weapon and started into a stand of pine trees. The thick canopy obliterated the daylight. He hesitated a moment to allow his ey
es to adjust.

  A branch snapped nearby. He held perfectly still. Listened. Only silence. Pine needles rustled behind him. He spun around. A tan rabbit retreated into the cover of a low palm. Muttering a curse, he lowered his gun to his side.

  Bastard had probably fled minutes earlier. He glanced toward the house. Returning his forty-five to his belt, he crossed the yard, then entered through the back door.

  Megan was straightening the kitchen chairs.

  “Stop!” He instantly regretted his tone when she shrank away. “I’m sorry. But you shouldn’t touch anything. Your attacker might have left fingerprints.”

  “I doubt it. He wore gloves.”

  “Of course he did. Damn it.” He slammed his fist on the counter.

  “Thank God you got here when you did or…” Her voice trailed off. “I figure he took off and didn’t look back when he heard your truck. How did you know where to find me?”

  “Your dumb-ass assistant didn’t want to share that information with me, but she finally did.” He leaned against the counter. “Please inform her that I’m not some weirdo stalker or something. What’s her problem, anyway?”

  She sat and exhaled loudly. “I came down hard on her a few weeks ago for telling someone—Jerome, actually—where I’d gone. I strictly forbade her from giving out that sort of information. I guess I should have told her there were exceptions.”

  “Explains a lot.”

  “I feel like I ought to report this attack, but…” She furrowed her brow and glanced away.

  “But what?”

  “They already think I’m crazy.”

  He shook his head. “You have to report it. You need a record of what’s going on, what this creep is doing to you.”

  She shifted in the chair and pursed her lips. “I don’t know.”

  “Look, I told you I passed that severed head prop on to my friend at the sheriff’s office, so he’s familiar with what’s going on. Unfortunately there were no decent fingerprints.”

  He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, then rifled through his collection of business cards in search of Detective Kenny Horvath’s. “Bingo. Here it is. Call him directly. Or I will if you don’t want to.” He handed her the card and his cell phone.