Safe Haven

by Lisa Mondello

Kevin stalked back to his SUV, fuming about women and what he couldn’t control. He’d somewhat come to terms years ago with what he didn’t understand about the opposite sex. There were just some things beyond his power. But this woman had his head spinning rings.

  As soon as he’d pulled up to the curb, Spot started barking. That was a good sign. The neighbors could complain about disturbing the peace all they wanted, but if it deterred someone from sneaking around Daria’s house, it was fine by Kevin. He wasn’t superhuman. He couldn’t be here twenty-four/seven to make sure George Carlisle didn’t fulfill his wish to have his ex-wife murdered. He was a mere man and could only do what was humanly possible to lessen the risk that Carlisle would make good on the contract for Daria’s murder.

  She’d taken a moment to glance down the driveway at him before she headed into the house. Kevin made sure she knew he was watching. Not to intimidate her, but to let her know how very serious he was about her life being in danger. Had she heard the words her ex-husband had spoken with her own ears, maybe she’d be more receptive to his reasons why she needed to leave immediately.

  Daria wasn’t going to tell him her ex-husband had been in her office. Shoving his hands deep into his pockets, Kevin shook his head in disgust. What the hell was he even doing this for? The woman didn’t want him here. She’d made that perfectly clear. And Matt would have his ass fried if he knew he was spending his off hours sitting out in front of her house like some damned stalker.

  He just couldn’t figure Daria out. What he’d told her about what happened that night at the salvage yard would have most people panicked enough to want to leave at least for a little while. But Daria didn’t seem to give a damn.

  Women, he fumed, crossing his arms across his chest and settling himself against his SUV. What the hell did she think? He wasn’t out here watching her house and hide for his damned health, that’s for sure. If it weren’t for the fact he’d been the one to decide to pull the earpiece from his ear, even after the captain’s protest, he’d be making plans to work on the finishing touches to his sailboat, Her Gypsy Heart.

  The boat had been in dry-dock most of the winter in an effort to prevent it from damaging any of the new repairs he’d made last fall and to continue working on it over the winter. But he and Tyler had moored it at the marina the week before and Kevin was itching to finish the work he’d planned on doing so it would be seaworthy come mid-summer. Now he was wasting all his off time protecting a woman who didn’t even want him around.

  Because it’s your fault she needs protecting, Gordon.

  In his years on the force, he’d gone on hundreds of domestic violence calls only to have the woman recant her story once officers arrived on her doormat. Kevin had always wondered if those women really believed they were okay just because their abuser apologized, promising never to hurt them again. Guilt had always stabbed at his gut as he left the scene, wondering if he’d be coming back the next week to take that same smiling woman away in a body bag.

  Daria insisted her ex wasn’t violent, but everything Kevin knew firsthand about the situation proved otherwise. He didn’t have to guess that maybe they’d had a little lover’s spat and she’d called 911. She truly believed she wasn’t in any danger because he’d never exhibited any violent tendencies toward her.

  But Kevin knew it didn’t mean a damned thing.

  His thoughts drifted to Lucy once again and had him closing his eyes at the memory of her face. He still remembered his sister’s wrenching tears at the forever loss of Lucy’s friendship, and Lucy’s mother’s collapse to the grass, pleading to God to bring her baby back to her arms. As a young boy at the tender age of fourteen, Kevin had watched from across the yard as the officer’s helped pick Mrs. Anderly’s limp body up from the ground after they told her they’d found Lucy’s body in a garbage dump behind the neighborhood grocery store she’d been working at after school. Lucy had only been seventeen.

  As soon as he’d reached the curb, he turned to watch for the inside light to turn on. Daria should be inside soon. Spot started barking again, as he’d done when Kevin first arrived, pulling his attention away from the house and to the barking dog next door. The urgency of the bark put Kevin on alarm. That’s when he heard movement coming from the backyard.

  Daria’s high-pitched scream pealed through the darkness. Kevin’s blood turned to ice as he ran toward the back porch, his heart pumping wildly, his ears ringing with the sound of her scream.

  When he turned the corner at the end of the driveway, he found Daria standing on the back porch, hugging the railing. The empty vase had smashed to the floorboards and shattered in what looked like a million pieces.

  Kevin didn’t waste any time running up the stairs. Daria flew into his arms, trembling.

  As he held her, he pushed the hair away from her face. “What happened? Are you all right?”

  He couldn’t see her face. Clutching her arms, he forced her to look up at him and as she did, a small sob escaped her lips.

  “I-I opened th-the door,” she sobbed, bending one arm behind her toward the house.

  He didn’t need to move any closer. With the light from the flashlight shining on the door, he could see what looked like a bird hanging in a noose behind the opening of the screen door. At first glance, it didn’t look any more harmless than a stuffed scarecrow would hang as decoration on the door in autumn.

  Daria clung to him, even as he took a wide stride forward to take a closer look at the dead bird. There was no note, no obvious signs of damage to the door. Just what appeared to be a dead crow hanging from a wire. It hadn’t been there yesterday when he’d first come to the house. And there was no way Daria wouldn’t have noticed it this morning.

  The hairs on the back of his head stood on ends when Spot’s bark became urgent again. Kevin could hear the dog chain scrapping over Mrs. Hildebrand’s concrete block patio as he tried to pull free. A gust of wind blew strong and he thought he heard something in the back.

  “Get in my SUV and lock the door,” Kevin said, staring into the back yard. “Don’t move, do you hear me? I don’t want you hanging on this porch in the dark.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I just want to check around the house.”

  “I don’t want…” She hiccoughed a soft sob. Against his better judgment, he reached for her, crushing her against his chest.

  She was as he’d imagined she’d be. And he’d had plenty of time to imagine a lot about Daria Carlisle last night when he’d had nothing to do but watch her window. She felt all woman, soft against his hardness, curves that pressed against him in just the right places.

  Heat shot through him like a lightning striking, quick and sharp, landing directly in his groin. A better man would have squashed down those feelings, reminding himself of his duty to protect this woman. But Kevin was too tired to listen to any kind of reason his mind conjured up. He doubted very much his body would even listen.

  “Go to the truck, Daria,” Kevin said, forcing himself to pull away.

  Daria lifted her face to him as a sliver of light from the flashlight shown on her. Her cheeks were stained with wetness, and her eyes glistened with tears. His gaze dropped to her trembling lips and he had to catch himself from bending his head and kissing her. Good Lord, he’d wanted to since he’d seen her in the market. But he held himself back. The tightness in his chest made it difficult to breathe, let alone talk.

  Spot continued to bark, reminding him of his purpose there.

  “I need to check around and see if whoever did this is still here.”

  “Please don’t go,” she whispered.

  “You’ll be okay. Just go to my SUV and lock the door. I’ll be there just as soon as I check around the yard.”

  Although she hesitated, Daria nodded.

  She ran down the stairs toward the street. Once she was out of view, Kevin moved in the opposite direction toward the back yard. Heaven help the bastard, if he was still hanging in the shadows.
>
  *

  The door to Kevin’s truck was open. Daria really didn’t want to sit out here in the dark all alone. She needed comfort. She needed to feel safe and that could only happen after she went inside and locked all her doors.

  With added lift in her step she walked to the back yard where she’d seen Kevin last. In contrast to the front of the house, given the smashed porch light, the back yard was well lit. She’d have to confront the dreadful site of the dead bird, but at least Kevin was out back.

  She climbed the porch steps, glancing once more in the back yard, but Kevin was nowhere to be found. There were only two keys on her key ring. The one for her house and her car. She found her house key by the feel of it. Careful not to disturb the bird still hanging on her door, she slipped the key in the lock and it jammed. Tears sprang to her eyes, her shoulders sagging. She’d just replaced the damned thing last week, for heaven’s sake! How could it already be broken again?

  Sniffing, she spun on her heels quickly and marched over to the front porch and climbed the stairs. She’d be damned if anyone was going to keep her from her home.

  Although both front and back doors shared the same key, the front lock opened easily and with little added pressure. Relief washed over her as she pushed the door open.

  Once inside, Daria threw on all the light switches, illuminating the antique hanging lamp that lit up her stairway and the hall leading to the living room and kitchen. Without pulling off her coat, she moved down the hallway and switched on the rest of the lights in the house as well until every room was lit up like a Christmas tree.

  Her insides shook with every step and she hugged her coat tighter around her, but even Daria knew that wouldn’t make a difference. The cold that swept through her had nothing to do with the temperature outside or in the house.

  The front door swung open, creaking on its hinges, and she leaped.

  “If anyone was out there, he’s long gone now,” Kevin said to her utter relief. He cast her a stern look. “I told you to go to my SUV.”

  “Spot started barking. I’ve never heard him like that before.”

  “Dogs sometimes bark at a leaf blowing over the ground. I got worried when I didn’t see you out front. He was probably barking because he saw the person who did this. There’s nothing now.”

  Daria’s eyes widened as her jaw dropped. “Are you trying to make me feel better? Because if you are, forget it. I don’t exactly call a dead bird hanging from my door nothing.”

  His shoulders sagged. “Neither do I. But this whole thing reeks of a prank.”

  Kevin glanced around the room, his face still wearing the scowl she knew he’d had earlier but she hadn’t been able to see outside in the dark just moments ago. Although he appeared pissed off she didn’t follow his instruction, he also seemed oblivious to her as he moved around the rooms, searching downstairs as he dialed a number on his cell phone.

  He was being professional, she realized. Kevin was, after all, a police officer. Her knee jerk reaction that he’d been making light of the situation had been dead wrong. It was entirely possible that he’d come to a conclusion based on fact and experience, while her reaction was purely emotional.

  “Where’s Carlisle?” he ground out into his cell phone.

  Kevin listened for a few minutes, then talked a little more to whomever it was he’d called. But Daria wasn’t listening. She was glancing around the rooms, at all that she’d created, and all she’d envisioned this house could be.

  Anger surged through her, replacing the heart-pounding fear. This was her home. She wasn’t going to just sit back and have someone frighten her away.

  After stalking to the kitchen door, Daria tried the knob. It turned easily enough from the inside. She turned the deadbolt with added pressure. It squeaked, but opened from the inside. Perhaps all it would take is a few drops of oil to remedy the problem.

  She could fix that. Daria could fix lots of things. Locking the door again, she decided whatever was going on with George and his late night meetings and flowers, she would fix that too. She wasn’t going to be driven from her home by a few threatening words and a dead bird hanging from her door.

  “Officer Montgomery has had your ex under his nose for the past hour. If anyone had been out there just now, at least we can be sure it wasn’t him,” he said as he slipped his cell phone back into his pocket. A deep crease in his brow marred his normally happy-go-lucky smile.

  She hugged her middle. “Who would do something like this?”

  “I know you’re upset, and rightly so, but sticking a crow on the door was most likely some kind of prank. Maybe an initiation for some junior high kids out to have a little fun. Scaring up trouble by scaring you was probably some stupid task they had to carry out.”

  “Do you think maybe it was one of the kids who used to party here?” Daria asked. But even as the words came out of her mouth, she knew that wasn’t the case.

  It wasn’t her nature to be suspicious. Had this happened on any other day than today, her mind wouldn’t be racing to conclusions that had no foundation. But crows were black and the bird hanging on her door was definitely a lighter color brown. A female Bird of Paradise.

  She closed her eyes, turning away from Kevin. When she opened them again, she was staring at her kitchen door. It was a common mistake, one that she herself would have made if it hadn’t come on the same day as the flowers. But the flowers and then the bird had to mean one thing. It couldn’t just be coincidental, could it?

  George had always fashioned himself sharp and finely dressed. He liked attention, liked that he had the glittering eye of many women by his good looks alone. Daria, while not dowdy by any means, didn’t show herself off to the world. George had been the one to tell Daria about the differences between the male and female Bird of Paradise. While the male wears fiery colors of red, yellow, and green to attract its mate, the female is drab. He’d joked one day that they, like the Bird of Paradise, were two birds of a feather, belonging together.

  The thought had immediately sprung to mind when Daria had opened the screen door and saw the bird with its vacant beady eyes bulging, and strong talons hanging limp. It couldn’t be coincidence that some street kids out for trouble would do this on the same day George sent her flowers that had once held meaning for them.

  It seemed fitting that the vase was now smashed on her back porch and the flowers were lying in a heap in her compost pile.

  “What is it?” Kevin asked, his brows furrowing with suspicion again. She had no idea how long he’d been staring at her or what conclusions he’d already drawn from what he’d witnessed.

  Although it was easier to confess her fears and ease her mind, Daria knew it would only add fuel to Kevin’s argument regarding the danger she was in. Instead of Kevin helping to convince her that she was wrong and her theory was bogus, he’d only use it to put pressure on her to leave. She was staying put.

  “Nothing,” she said, rubbing her hands over her face. “It’s just been a long day.”

  “Ski’s coming over with a crew to dust the back porch. Dylan is going to stick with George. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find some fingerprints. If this joker’s been a bad boy in the past, he’ll have a file that will help us ID him.”

  “He wasn’t a boy,” she said, not wanting to admit it. “Boys don’t terrorize people that way.”

  He smiled crookedly. Small as it was, it sent a shot of thrill through her. His voice was low and quiet when he spoke. “Daria, I was a boy once. Sometimes the highlight of my day was getting my sister, Judy, and her friends to scream by playing out some prank.”

  “You?”

  He laughed then and for the first time that evening, she felt herself coming back. It was going to be okay.

  “Much as I’d love to blame this on your ex as a way to nail him, I can’t. He wasn’t anywhere near your house today and it doesn’t seem likely he’d have been able to convince some kids to do the deed for him. These clowns who did do this probabl
y sat back and watched you scream when you opened the door. By now they’re probably down at the park slapping each other on the back, having a good laugh as they share a bottle of tequila they swiped from their dad’s liquor cabinet.”

  “Is that what you used to do?”

  He shrugged. “I was no angel. Now tell me what you’re thinking.”

  She should have known he wouldn’t let it go.

  Daria rubbed her hand over the raised goose bumps that had invaded her skin and closed her eyes briefly. Telling Kevin would only put him in alarm mode when it was clear he seemed convinced the bird was just a harmless prank.

  Sighing, she said, “This has just shaken me a bit. I’ve always suspected that some of the kids who used to party here might not have learned the house was sold, and that they might come back for some mischief. It’s only been six months.”

  “Kids know everything that goes on. But that’s not what has you riled up. Tell me what you suspect? And don’t tell me it’s nothing because I know by the look on your face that it isn’t.”

  She glanced at him, saw the dark shadow that seemed to cross his face and knew he wasn’t going to let it go.

  “The flowers George sent me are Bird of Paradise.”

  His expression was blank. “And?”

  She walked to the counter and leaned against it. She needed the distance, if only for the few extra feet it afforded. Talking about her ex-husband had never been difficult. Until she was face to face with a man who had brought about the wild fantasies Kevin had since she’d met him.

  “George proposed to me at a place called the Paradise Inn. At one time, it used to be our restaurant. We would go there for special occasions. They had these silk flowers on every table.”

  “Bird of Paradise?”

  “Yes.” She cleared her throat and looked down at her cruddy linoleum floor.

  Kevin nodded. “Is there something significant about today?”

  “Today would have been our six year anniversary.” His face was unreadable. No scowl, no smile, no twitch of the lips.

  “That would explain why he sent you flowers then.”