Silent Sabotage

by Susan Sleeman

  He climbed back into the car. “The bolt was cut. Would take a power tool, a ladder and some time to do this.”

  “Darcie and Birdie. Do you think they’re okay?”

  “Only one way to find out.” He put his SUV into gear and sped down the driveway.

  The sky was jet black, the moon hiding behind clouds and raising Archer’s anxiety. Shadows clung to the large house. A single porch light cast a weak glow, doing nothing to expose danger that could be lurking anywhere.

  “Wait here,” he said and charged for the front door. He alternated his gaze between the door and the car as he knocked on the door.

  Darcie soon answered and she confirmed everything was okay inside. He jogged back down the stairs. Instead of stopping to tell Emily what Darcie had said, he settled his flashlight’s beam on the shrubs at the base of the porch, followed by a check of both sides of the home. He spun and at the sight of the vast property lying before him, he sighed in frustration. The place was too big to assess danger lurking in the distance, leaving Emily vulnerable.

  He opened her door and connected with her troubled gaze. “Darcie and Birdie are fine. They didn’t hear a thing. Everything looks all right, but to be sure, we’ll go straight to the house.”

  She gave a clipped nod and exited the car. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. She didn’t struggle to free herself, but matched her strides to his. Inside, she tried to move away, but he kept hold of her and spun to lock the dead bolt. Darcie was nowhere in sight so he lingered with Emily at his side and peered into her eyes wide with concern. He hated seeing the fear once again lodged on her face. Hated seeing anything other than the sweet smile he occasionally caught.

  “You know I probably overreacted by holding you so close on the way in, right?” he said, putting humor in his tone.

  “You’re just saying that because you want me to relax.”

  “You can see right through me, can’t you?” Amazing. He’d been raised to keep his emotions hidden. Either she was very astute or he was losing his touch. “You’re the first person who’s been able to read me that well.”

  “You’ve never known anyone like me, then.” Her voice was breathless, her eyes locked on his.

  The air in the room suddenly was supercharged and warm. He turned a fraction. Touched her cheek. She smiled. Not the soft and sweet one he’d come to know, but a smile with promise. Her cocoa-brown eyes were liquid and questioning, but he had no answers. Even if he did, when she looked at him that way, he could barely think.

  “You guys ever—” Darcie said from the doorway. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt...”

  Emily spun out of his hold and ran a hand over her hair, as if thinking smoothing it out would make the moment less awkward for all of them. “How’d it go with Birdie?”

  Darcie watched her for a moment, and Archer hoped she would answer Emily’s question and not start quizzing them about what was going on between them.

  “She slept a lot of the time,” Darcie finally said. “Is that normal for Birdie?”

  “I don’t know about normal, but it’s become common this last week.” Emily twisted her hands together. “I thought I’d talk to her doctor if it continued.”

  Darcie nodded her agreement. “You take such good care of her.”

  “She’s been like a mother to me, and she’s all I have. I’ll go check on her.” Emily left the room without so much as a backward glance at Archer.

  He turned to Darcie. “Before you go, I wanted to ask if you’d be available to sit with Birdie after your shifts until we catch whoever’s threatening Emily.”

  “So you can do a little more cuddling with Emily?” Darcie considered him with an unwavering gaze.

  “No,” he said, more firmly than needed. “So she can take a break. She has so much on her plate right now. Dealing with the Alzheimer’s is hard enough, but the shooting, the fire and Freddie. She’s a strong woman, but if she doesn’t get some relief, I’m afraid she might crack.”

  “That’s very thoughtful of you,” Darcie said.

  “Thoughtful or not, it’s the right thing to do.”

  She dug her phone from her pocket and flipped through her calendar. “I have a morning shift tomorrow and Isabel will be in school, but I’ll have to coordinate with Pilar to see if she’s free to watch Isabel on other days.”

  Archer hated taking time away from Isabel. Darcie was in the process of adopting the six-year-old girl who Darcie had helped rescue on a callout. But right now, he didn’t see any other option.

  “And, of course, I’ll want to check with Noah,” Darcie added.

  “Of course.” It’d been a long time since he’d had to think about someone else before committing to doing something and he sometimes forgot that others had to do so. “I’m heading out to do my perimeter check so I’ll walk you to the door.”

  She gathered her things and by the time she turned, her expression had become serious. “You can’t run forever, you know. Don’t ignore what’s staring you in face. After all, it’s what you’re really searching for. I should know. I fought it with the best of them before I surrendered.”

  On the porch, he paused to get his focus in the right place. Darcie was hinting at love. He had no time for that or even room for thinking about it. He couldn’t afford any kind of distraction. Distractions could end disastrously.

  “Let me know when you’re available,” he said, ending the conversation.

  She frowned at him, but then said good-night and climbed into her car.

  After she drove off, he jogged down the steps and called Carothers to bring forensics in yet one more time to process the bolt. Hopefully they could match it to the tool used to cut it. A kind of tool that he suspected Fallon might own.

  Archer kept the house in his periphery, his light bouncing ahead as he made a grid-like search of the property. He found himself needing to refocus each time his mind wandered to their interaction in the foyer. He was attracted to Emily, no doubt. What guy wouldn’t be? But it went beyond her looks. To her as a person. She stirred a part of his heart and soul that had never been touched before. Truth was, he’d let his fear of being taken advantage of stop him from feeling anything.

  Question was, what did he plan to do about it...if anything?

  Blowing out a frustrated breath, he climbed the steps, and once back inside, he twisted the lock and took a minute to find a positive mood so he didn’t add to Emily’s burdens.

  “Everything okay?” she called from the sofa in the family room.

  He nodded, but checked the lock one more time. “Darcie’s headed home. What about Birdie? Is she doing okay?”

  Emily grinned. “Can’t you hear her snoring?”

  Archer cocked an ear toward the stairwell and when he picked up the sound of rhythmic snores, he grinned and his mood lightened for real.

  He joined Emily, taking a seat in a club chair across from her. “FYI, I asked Darcie to come by tomorrow to sit with Birdie and give you a bit of a break.”

  Irritation flared in her eyes. “You did what?”

  “I thought you needed some relief from the stress of everything that’s been happening coupled with caring for Birdie.”

  She didn’t speak and he could feel tension rolling off her. “You’re mad at me for interfering again.”

  “Mad? No.”

  “But upset.”

  She shrugged, but her annoyance remained lodged in her eyes.

  “Okay, I get it. I should have asked you before talking to Darcie, but maybe deep down, I thought you’d say no, and you need a break.”

  “I would have.”

  “But why? Darcie is excellent with people and you could use the rest.”

  She cast an appraising look his way, but he hadn’t a clue what she was trying to a
scertain.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  She clenched her hands together and got up to pace. “You’re taking over again. It reminds me of my mom when she brought a new guy home. She’d given them a kiss and cuddle and suddenly they thought they could take over and rule our lives. And she let them.” She stared at him for a long moment, burning a hole through him. “You can’t imagine what it’s like to have your life upended time after time. The rules changed all the time. To forget the current guy’s new rules and then be punished when you failed to keep them.”

  He had no idea this issue ran so deep. He stood. Stepped over to her. She backed away.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, injecting sincerity into his voice. “I didn’t mean to tread on a sore spot.”

  “Well, you did.” Her tone held a definite edge that he hadn’t heard before. “I’ve got things covered. I can take care of Birdie and myself just fine.”

  Archer had to bite his tongue not to mention how her life was falling apart around her and she wasn’t doing fine at all. He’d said enough already.

  She was right.

  He had no business messing with her personal life. Probably no business being here at all, and yet, there was no way he was walking away while someone wanted her dead.

  TWELVE

  Where am I?

  Emily blinked her lashes hard, searching to figure out her location. She saw a familiar ginger jar lamp and white side table. A quilted bedspread on the unmade bed. A hint of smoke in the air.

  A guest room. Birdie! She’s missing.

  Emily shot to her feet. She was worried that her aunt might have a bad night in the strange room so Emily had sat by her bed in the glider and had fallen asleep. Somehow Birdie had left the room without waking Emily. Meant Birdie likely recognized where she was or she probably would have panicked. Emily had to make sure her aunt was okay.

  She headed into the hallway, and at the top of the stairs, she heard voices in the living room.

  Archer and Birdie.

  Emily padded down the steps in her stocking feet and caught sight of Birdie sitting cross-legged on the sofa. Her aunt had changed into jeans and an old paisley shirt that was frayed with all the washings, but she loved the memories associated with the shirt so wouldn’t part with it. She’d angled her body toward Archer, who’d taken off his crisp button-down shirt and wore a white T-shirt. Both sat with their backs to her, giving her a chance to study them for a moment.

  “I feel so guilty, and I hate the toll it’s taking on Emily,” Birdie said softly.

  Emily was pleased to see Birdie was coherent again, but her dear aunt had nothing to feel sorry for. Emily was a different story. She’d gone off on Archer when he’d simply done a sweet thing, and he didn’t deserve her wrath. He was nothing like the men her mother brought home.

  And that was the problem. He made her think she could successfully have a fulfilling relationship with a man. A man like Archer?

  “Emily has so much to deal with taking up my slack,” Birdie continued. “If only I could do more.”

  Archer gently took Birdie’s hand in his. “You can’t think that way. You didn’t ask for this.”

  At the incredible softness and compassion in Archer’s tone, Emily yearned to see the expression on his face.

  “She has an unfathomable love for you,” he continued. “That’s clear for anyone to see and she’ll do whatever she needs to make sure you’re okay.”

  “She thinks she owes me from the past, but she doesn’t. I’m the one in debt to her.”

  He released Birdie’s hands and sat back. “How’s that?”

  “When she was thirteen her mother’s current boyfriend didn’t want a teenager around, so her mother shipped her off to me. Emily thought she was imposing, but truth is, I was lonely on my own. I’d never married. Just didn’t find the right guy. So I had no children of my own. But I longed for family and prayed for God to fulfill my wishes.”

  Birdie shook her head, her silvery curls bouncing. “Then along came Emily. Stubborn and so tough on the surface. She had to be to survive her parents’ constant arguments before her dad walked out. Then the parade of men her mother took up with. But under it all was—is—the sweetest, most compassionate person I know. I’ve told her so many times how blessed I am to have her in my life, but I’m not sure she ever believed me.”

  Emily’s heart constricted with love, and she dropped to the stairs. She had no idea Birdie felt this way. Sure, Emily knew her aunt loved her unconditionally and had always said that she was thankful to have Emily in her life, but Emily honestly thought Birdie was just saying that to make her feel good.

  And not finding the right guy? Birdie had never mentioned that either. Emily thought it was a lifestyle choice Birdie had made. Emily also had no clue her aunt had been so lonely.

  Knowing this was a game changer. If Emily had known, she might not have patterned her own life after Birdie’s. Vowing never to get involved. To be self-sufficient and live on her own.

  One thing Emily did know. She couldn’t let another minute go by without telling Birdie how much she appreciated her.

  She stepped into the room, sat on the coffee table and clasped Birdie’s hands in hers. “I overheard you. I believe you really wanted me here, but I’m still the most blessed. You gave me so much more than a roof over my head, Aunt Birdie. You gave me a home and taught me about love.”

  Birdie squeezed Emily’s hands. “But now—with this mess—you have surely gotten the bad end of the stick.”

  “I’ll take any end of the stick if it means you’re in my life.”

  A faraway look claimed Birdie’s face. “God really turned a bad situation in your life into something wonderful for both of us, didn’t He?”

  “He did.”

  “It’s a good reminder. I need to stop worrying about how you’ll fare with my disease. He always turns everything to good.”

  “But how?” Emily freed her hands and sat back. “How can He possibly turn your Alzheimer’s to good?”

  “Emily,” Birdie scolded. “Where’s the faith I taught you to live by?”

  “I’m sorry, but I just don’t see any positive from this except that because I came to live here, I’m able to spend more time with you.”

  “That’s a blessing to me, and you are making my life so much better. Even if I don’t remember it much of the time, I’m grateful.” She scooted to the edge of the sofa and kissed Emily on the forehead. “I’m really tired. If you don’t mind, I’m going to go back to bed.”

  “Sure,” Emily said and made sure not to sound disappointed. She had so little quality time left with her aunt that she hated to waste any of it to sleep, but Birdie knew what her body needed.

  Emily drew her aunt into her arms and hugged her like she might never see her again. And who knew—with the Alzheimer’s Emily very well might never see this Birdie again.

  “I love you, Birdie,” she whispered.

  “And I love you, sweetheart.” She pulled back, stroked the side of Emily’s face for a moment before heading up the stairs.

  Tears stung Emily’s eyes. The room swimming in front of her. She wasn’t sure what to say or do. If Archer wasn’t sitting on the sofa, she might let the tears take her and have a big old cry.

  “These moments of clarity are a blessing, too,” he said quietly.

  “But not for long,” Emily muttered more to herself than to him as she thought about how these moments were fleeting. “Especially with the disease progressing and we’re about to be thrown out on our ear.”

  She blinked hard to stem the tears. She had to do something or she’d lose it in front of Archer, and she feared once the dam burst, she’d never be able to stop it. Especially if he held her. Then she wouldn’t want to come up for air at all.

 
She took a deep breath and willed away the tears as she tried to think of a good reason to leave the room. The garden. She forgot to water the garden. The one place she could be alone to think. The one place she found contentment and peace because God seemed closer there. The place where, if He decided to end this silence, she would find a way out of this mess.

  “It’s getting late,” she said and started for the doorway, then remembered she’d wanted to apologize to Archer. No. Not now. Not when she would fall apart. He deserved her attention, not her tears. She’d speak to him first thing in the morning.

  She took one last look at him, but a lone tear escaped and rolled down her cheek before she could look away.

  “Emily,” he said and quickly approached her.

  At his tender expression, she remained riveted in place. He continued gazing into her eyes as he wiped away a second tear.

  “Emily,” he said again, this time his voice was choked with emotion.

  Powerless to look away, she stared up at him, her heart longing for more from this man—longing to bring these unspoken feelings between them to light. But she couldn’t give in.

  “I have to go,” she mumbled, then rushed away.

  She hurried through the foyer and dining room to the kitchen, where she slipped into her gardening clogs and grabbed a flashlight. Hopefully he’d think she was taking the back stairway. She listened to see if he followed her, as he’d been her shadow for two days now, but she didn’t hear a thing so she stepped outside and down the path.

  She found silence. Blessed silence save the frogs’ rumbling croaks and an owl hooting in the distance. Her tears ran over her cheeks, but she kept going, swinging the flashlight down the path lined with trellises holding clematis and honeysuckle vines. She’d added the trellises and vines to camouflage the ugly chicken wire fence she’d erected to keep critters out of the vegetables.