Ares trotted down the steps and extended the leash in her direction. The amber in his eyes looked hopeful. It was a bit early for his morning walk, but since there were still several hours between now and her plans, she attached the cord to his collar and they took to the road.
The cottage, although a part of the neighborhood, didn’t line the street like the other houses did a few steps down. It was tucked away in its own alcove complete with green shrubbery and purple wisteria, white-trimmed double hung windows, and an old-fashioned chimney, which led to a nonworking fireplace. It was single-storied and not quite as fairytale as she’d pictured when she’d responded to the ad, but it still worked. At least, for now. If Ares got any larger, there would barely be any space left for her to breathe.
Ares picked up his pace to a trot, forcing her into a light jog. Front yards were bare although soft light illuminating through windows indicated that children were getting ready for school. If it had been a few hours later, she would have been dodging them as they ran across her path to the school bus.
At the end of the street was the opening that led to the long road that winded up to the lake house. Ares darted toward it almost knowingly, and not quite reluctantly, she allowed him to pull her along.
It would be difficult to see the house as it would be surrounded in its iconic, dreary haze. Most of the people in town had referred to it as the old man’s treasure. Years of petitions and council meetings had failed to convince him to tear it down, and he’d even refused to sell it to his own children out of fear that they would do the same. It was a house that had been a part of his family for decades, however illness and hard times had prevented him from restoring it to its traditional beauty. What made him think that she would have been able to do so on her own, she had no idea.
The minute they reached the opening, Ares came to an abrupt halt. He tilted his nose in the air and looked around. Tayler searched with him. Given his chasing habits, there was probably a squirrel in the vicinity. Maybe even a raccoon. She was thankful that she’d yet to come home to a dead animal in the front doorway and the brown patches over Ares’ eyes raised as he watched her surprise over his “gift.”
The squirrel and raccoon suggestions flew out the window the minute he lowered his head. Deep growls began tumbling from his throat, painting his face into a snarl. He was facing the bushes, obviously aware of something that she couldn’t see, and her heart ticked up a few notches. In North Carolina, it could have been anything: a bear, an elk, or a cougar. There was no plan A or B for any of them; if a large cat leapt from the green, she would be completely defenseless.
Gage suddenly appeared next to them, intensifying her already anxious state. There’d been no sound of footsteps or heavy breathing to alert them to his presence, and it was damn near impossible for him to just appear, dressed for a run, without her hearing something. Pounding on the pavement. The sound of his timed breathing. Something.
He crouched next to Ares and scratched him underneath his collar. His eyes, which were nearly the same color as the leaves surrounding them, darted between the foliage. Then, after a few seconds, both he and Ares relaxed at the same time. Ares snarl was gone, and his body was no longer tensed.
“You’re out early,” Gage said, rising and facing her.
She held up Ares’ leash. “He wanted to go out.”
Gage looked from the leash to her face, then angled his head as though it would somehow give him a different perspective of the woman standing in front of him. As he tilted it back upright, she figured that he’d either failed or succeeded.
He motioned to Ares. “What’s his name?”
“Ares.”
“And what usually sets him off?”
Ares, although part of what was considered an aggressive breed, was a dog who flitted about life without a care in the world. He was as playful as he was lazy, and the only time she’d ever seen him lower his head as though gearing for a fight was whenever he encountered something that was a threat to her.
“Oh.” She lightly tapped her head. “I think I know what he was growling at. A couple of years ago, I was going out to get the newspaper when I got cornered by a cottonmouth. He heard me scream, came running, and then stood between me and one of the most poisonous snakes in the country until a trapper took it away. I think there’s a snake in the bushes.”
Gage turned back to where his and Ares’ focus had been. His brows came together briefly and his gaze traveled down the length of the brush lining the road.
“Where do you live?” he suddenly asked. “I’m walking you home.”
Her hand went to her hip.
“And don’t fight me,” he added.
“Who said I was going to?” She dropped her hand back to her side. “I just don’t think you should be so concerned about my well-being.”
“Me either.”
She should have been offended, but she wanted to smile. It was though the synapses in her brain had somehow become crossed.
“What are you doing out so early?” she asked.
His eyes darted to the trees a third time. Ares looked up. His ear twitched.
“Clearing my head,” he answered.
If she hadn’t been looking at him, she would have never known that he was distracted. Unlike her current temporary brain malfunction, it was as though he could split his focus and give two completely different things his full concentration.
“What’s on your mind?” Her nosiness knew no bounds.
“I don’t know.” He glanced at her. “Tayler, where do you live?”
This time, she heard it—weight lowering onto a pile of leaves.
Her head popped up first this time. An icy curl ran up her spine. Ares’ snarl returned and Gage stood so still that even the tree barks had more movement than his frame. Whatever had alerted them before was still there, in the same spot, and still watching.
“Cottage down the road,” she said. “Not far from here.”
Gage jerked his head. “Go.”
“You’re not com—”
“I’ll follow you. Walk. Now.”
She backed away a few steps and tugged on Ares’ leash. Ares refused, his focus still on the spot in the trees. Gage reached down and touched the top of his head. As though that touch had held some secret form of communication, Ares turned and walked ahead of Tayler as far as the leash would allow before she was tugged along. She glanced back at Gage to see if he was following, but he was rooted to the same spot. The winds downshifted and she caught a whiff of sweat and musk.
She’d been standing less than a foot away from him and hadn’t caught any odors.
Ares rounded the corner to turn into the cottage’s alcove and a firm hand splayed against her lower back. “It’s me,” Gage said, seconds before she prepared to aim her knee toward the person’s groin. Once again, he’d been several feet behind them and had managed to close the gap, making less noise than a cloud crossing over the sky.
His hand remained against her back until he was locking the cottage door behind them. Tayler walked to the kitchen and considered pouring herself a full glass of wine, not giving a damn about how early it was, but reconsidered it when she remembered the condition in which she’d found her guest.
She reached into the refrigerator, tugged out a bottle of cold water, and chugged down half of it while Gage watched her from the other side of the countertop.
“You were raised in Baltimore?” he asked. “And you worked in Louisiana? I would assume that you would have more of a natural instinct to sense dangerous situations coming from larger cities.”
Tayler replaced the lid on the bottle and waited until she finished gasping for air to answer his question. “Dangerous in Baltimore and New Orleans is different from dangerous in Yearwood. In the city, I knew who and what to avoid. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do if I’m out walking and a cougar leaps from the bushes.”
“That wasn’t a cougar.”
“Then a bear.”
“Not a bear either.”
“Look, it could have been a damn velociraptor for all I care. Those are animals. Mother Nature made them bigger, faster, and more instinctual. Without a nine-millimeter Smith & Wesson strapped to my hip,” he raised his brow, but she shook her head to wave away any ensuing conversation, “I’m sitting at the bottom of the food chain.”
He helped himself to one of the bar stools behind the counter. “It wasn’t an animal, Tayler. A person was watching you from the bushes. Ares sensed it too.”
“A person? How could you tell?”
“Scent. Dogs have millions more sensory receptors on their noses, so he picked it up long before I did. It was definitely sweat. Anxious sweat.”
Ares walked over and dropped down next to the stool. Tayler gripped the edge of the counter. Gage probably hadn’t realized it, but he’d just compared himself to her dog.
“So why would somebody be anxiously watching me from the bushes?” she prodded.
“More than one reason.”
“Well, give me a few.”
He didn’t need time to think. “You could’ve surprised somebody doing something that they weren’t supposed to, so they were hiding from you. It could have been someone looking to take a piss or shit in the outdoors, but couldn’t do so with you in the vicinity.”
“But, something tells me that those aren’t the reasons your nose led you to.”
“No. Whoever was watching you didn’t move. Most people would have tried to sneak away or even make themselves known. Whoever this was, they didn’t want to be intimidated.”
She couldn’t help it, but she laughed. Hard. Gage was somehow implying that she was being watched. If she took it one step further, he might have even been implying that she was being stalked. Those things didn’t happen very often, and especially not in a town with fewer hiding places than an empty room.
“I knew I liked you,” she said, turning back to the refrigerator despite not being particularly hungry. Adrenaline was still mixed in with the blood in her veins and she needed a distraction for her unsteady hands.
She pulled out a jar of jelly and walked over to the drawer that held the utensils. It also held a few of the brightly colored post-it notes she’d found ever since her first encounter with the secret admirer, and it was still a mystery to her why she’d decided to keep a few. Especially if she’d already convinced herself that she wasn’t going to take it seriously.
Gage’s hand wrapped around her wrist, stopping her before she had a chance to push the drawer back in. Her gaze moved over to where he’d been sitting. The chair was still, Ares hadn’t budged an inch from his spot on the floor, and it was beginning to get eerie that she’d yet to hear this man make a sound on wood, pavement, or grass.
“What are those?” he asked, pulling out a note.
“Help yourself,” she replied, sarcasm front and center. “They’re notes.”
“I see that.” He read a few aloud. “Tayler, you are mine. Tayler, one day, you’ll live in more than my thoughts. Sadness shouldn’t be allowed in the workplace, Tayler. Your name is used in every single note. How long have you had them?”
She shrugged. “A few months.”
“And you never thought to show them to anybody?”
“Like who?”
“I don’t know. Law enforcement?”
She moved to the pantry on the other side of the kitchen and pulled out a jar of peanut butter. “For a few little notes, Gage? Some kid’s probably writing them. I’m sometimes faced with sixty-hour workweeks. I don’t have time to waste on kid games.”
He continued to read while she busied herself with her peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Oddly, her hands hadn’t yet stopped shaking.
“If you thought this was a kid, you wouldn’t keep them,” he stated.
She had no answer for that, so she remained silent.
“I won’t blame you for not seeing the same things I’ve seen in my lifetime,” he went on. “But these are not innocent letters. This person is going the extra mile to learn who you are, what you do, your routines, your emotions….they’re watching you.”
“They’re from a secret admirer, Gage,” she argued.
“Secret admirers write with the intent of aligning you with who they are, Tayler. They might reference seeing you at a similar concert, buying similar groceries, or working out at the same gym. They leave contact information. They talk about you. These were written by someone who’s already put you in an active role in their life although you’ve never even met. That sound sane to you?”
It felt as though someone had plucked the tube going from her throat to her lungs straight from her body. Her hands were still shaking, and something inside her nose burst, reminding her of that smell. That human smell. She hadn’t consciously decided that what had been hiding in the trees was a threat, but her body had.
“I need to sit.”
The declaration must have somehow come out as a request because his hand once again found the small of her back to steer her to the living room sofa. When she sat, he set down next to her, their knees nearly touching. Having him so close only made it worse. That scent definitely hadn’t belonged to him.
“What’s the likelihood that this could happen somewhere as small as here?” she asked. “And not only that, what’s the likelihood that this person could be dangerous?”
His eyes scanned her body as though he could see her ailments. She felt unsteady, slightly faint, and marginally upset. Her father would have been completely disappointed if he’d found out how woozy just the speculation of danger had made her.
“You’re asking me the impossible, love.” A hint of his Aussie drawl snuck out as he spoke, and she wondered why he’d ever tried to hide it in the first place. “Sometimes, people just do. The error is in thinking that there’s always a logical motive.”
This wasn’t the best time to learn that he didn’t sugarcoat, nor was it the best time to learn that he was blunt. She needed him to lie to her. She needed to go back to thinking that a misguided eighteen year-old was trying to get her attention with love notes because he knew that in person, she would turn him down. She didn’t even know how Gage had gotten her to move away from that theory so easily.
“Do me a favor?” She stood and pointed to the cordless landline on the table next to the sofa. “Call the sheriff?”
“You sure you’re alright?”
She nodded. “I will be. I just need to throw up.”
*****
Tayler was still retching by the time the sheriff’s cruiser pulled up to the curb outside of the cottage. Gage peered through the slim viewing pane next to the door and watched as the man ambled up. He’d hoped that someone uncharacteristic showed up; someone who could actually chase a perp if it came down to it. This man was every ounce the donut-eating, physical fitness test-failing, stereotype. His skin looked as though he was allergic to sunlight. A hat covered what Gage was sure were wisps of a comb over ready to tap out. Since it was likely a rare event to encounter major crime in a town of this size, much of the man’s time was probably spent sitting in the cruiser, behind a desk, or at a lunch counter.
Gage retrieved the half-empty bottle of water, placed it where Tayler would see it once she walked out of the bathroom, and then opened the front door just as the sheriff lifted his hand to pull on the knocker. Unlike Tayler, he didn’t stumble backwards.
“I’m assuming you’re the young man I spoke to on the phone?” the sheriff asked.
Gage waved him inside. Not even at eighteen years of age had anyone ever referred to him as a young man. Most young men hadn’t seen the things he’d seen nor would they have done the things he’d done.
Tayler emerged from the bathroom, her eyes covered in a watery glaze. Gage made another mental note in addition to her cheek chewing: she became nauseated when overwhelmed. For someone he’d resigned to leaving behind once her house was complete, he wasn’t sure why he was etching details.
“Sheriff T
ownley, hi.” She reached for the sheriff’s hand. “Did Gage here introduce himself? I have a feeling that he didn’t. This is Gage.”
Townley eyed him. “New in town?”
He didn’t care for the small talk it seemed as though everyone in town was famous for. “Passing through.”
“How you know Dr. D?”
“Chance.”
Townley watched him for a few more uncertain moments before he turned to Tayler. “Now, what’s this I hear ‘bout some threats you’ve been getting, Doc?”
Tayler’s skin began to take on a yellowish tint and Gage let his gaze lead her to the bottle of water. She picked it up and took a small sip.
“Notes,” she squeaked out.
“Threats,” Gage corrected. He grabbed a few of the notes and extended them to the sheriff. Townley went through the post-its in sequence, his brow lifting higher with each successive note he read.
“How long you been getting these, Doc?”
“A few months.”
His head lifted. “Months?”
She avoided Gage’s silent accusation.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Townley asked.
“Am I crazy, or do those not read as harmless to you?” she questioned. “I thought that it was a kid or someone trying to get my attention.”
“Still, he’d be trying extra hard.”
“What’s the course of action for something like this in your town?” Gage cut in.
The sheriff expelled a hard breath and Gage knew that he wasn’t going to like what came next. Stalking without violent escalation, at best, was a misdemeanor. There was also the issue of not actually having a body to pin a charge on.
“Well, we can file a report,” Townley said. “We’ll take these down to the precinct as evidence and maybe try to find a few prints off of them.”
“You won’t find any prints,” Gage said.
“Well, we’ll still try,” Townley huffed. “But to be honest with you Doc, without a suspect, it’s all up in the air right now. Don’t think that I’m meanin’ to sweep it under the rug or anything, but—”
Angels & Assassins: BWWM Romance Page 3
