Close To Christmas, A Westen Series Novella

by Suzanne Ferrell

  Bobby met his gaze with a clear, honest one. “How were you supposed to know what she was up to? Are you psychic?”

  “No. I’m not psychic.”

  “Are you a god of some sort? Able to divine another person’s intent?”

  “Of course not. But I knew she was a borderline psychopath. She was willing to have me killed to further her career, for God’s sake.”

  “Are you a psychiatrist now?” she asked, one brow arched, and ignoring the comment about his shooting to make her point.

  “Bobby,” he growled in warning.

  “Tell me, Gage. I’d really like to know.”

  He clenched the steering wheel. “She was my wife. I know what she was like better than anyone.”

  “The woman moved to another state for crying out loud. How were you supposed to keep tabs on her there? Do you have some secret group under your control that I don’t know about? She was out of our lives, or so we both thought. Any reasonable person wouldn’t have given her a second thought.” She reached to cup his face. “None of this is your fault. You couldn’t control the situation any more than you could predict Moira’s actions or the level of her hatred. Mags is healing fine and other than mess-up of the wedding flowers, Moira hasn’t really hurt anyone.”

  He stared into her deep-brown eyes, reading both compassion and love in them. He turned his head and planted a kiss in the center of her palm.

  “What did I ever do to deserve you?” he asked.

  She gave him a soft smile. “I believe you caught me in your arms and let me dump trash on you.”

  He laughed. The memory of how they first met one of the clearest in his life. He’d always remember her wind milling her arms before her ass that he’d been admiring settled firmly in his arms.

  “I love you.”

  She leaned in and kissed him softly. “I love you, too.”

  His cell phone rang. “Dammit.” He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID. Great. “Hello, Mrs. Munroe.”

  Bobby sat back in her seat giggling at the face he made. For some reason she found his busybody neighbor humorous.

  “Sheriff, Precious has been very agitated today.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” The woman’s pit bull, Precious, carried on if a mouse ran across the roof.

  “Well, I hope you should. It’s all the activity over at your house.”

  He sat straighter and locked his gaze on Bobby, who quickly lost her mirth. “What do you mean activity at my house?” he asked, hitting the speaker button so Bobby could listen, too.

  “Well first there was that girl who’s been helping out at the florist shop.”

  “Penny?” he asked, handing Bobby the phone then putting the truck in gear.

  “Yes. She came in from the alley. Had poor Precious all in a snit.”

  “Did Penny leave my house?”

  “No. And then another woman came. I do say, Sheriff, for someone about to get married you are certainly keeping time with too many women.”

  “Mrs. Munroe, what did the other woman look like?”

  “Tall, willowy. A lot like your fiancée, but with lighter hair.”

  Bobby gasped. “Dylan.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Munroe. I’ll handle it and get right there.” He reached over and hit the end call button. “Call Wes to meet us at the house. No sirens. We don’t want to spook Moira until we know Dylan is okay.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Well, well. Who do we have here?” the woman holding the gun said. She stood between Dylan and the room’s exit.

  Not good.

  She also had a wild look to her eyes, the kind she’d seen on drug addicts needing a fix or psych patients off their meds.

  So not good.

  “I was just looking for my sister. I must’ve gotten the wrong house.” She used her calmest, no-one-is-threatening-you voice—the one she perfected while working in the ER to help pay her way through medical school.

  The woman cocked her head sideways. “Oh, I think you got the right house. You look a lot like the little bitch who thinks she’s going to live here with my ex-husband.”

  That’s why she looked so familiar. She’d seen Gage’s ex’s picture in the paper after she was fired for withholding evidence that almost lead to the town’s destruction. Oh, yeah, she was on a first-class trip to crazy-town.

  “Since Bobby and Gage aren’t here, I guess I should go,” she said, but didn’t make any movement to the door. She just wanted to test the water—verbally.

  “Oh, I don’t think so. If you’re here, that means they’re going to show up soon. Why don’t you just have a seat and wait?” She motioned the gun towards the bed.

  Dylan complied and sat on the edge. She needed to keep her calm and talking. Another trick she’d learned from several good ER nurses.

  “My sister doesn’t know I was coming here. I wanted to surprise her. I could call her, but my phone is downstairs in my bag.”

  Crazy woman laughed. “I’m not that big a fool. You aren’t going anywhere. Sooner or later they’ll show up here and when they do we’re all going to have a little chat about this.”

  She held open her other hand. In it was a plastic pregnancy stick.

  * * * * *

  “How could I forget to call Dylan and tell her what’s going on?” Chloe said, clutching the handgrip of the truck.

  Dusk had given way quickly to darkness, and twinkling colored lights glowed on trees and houses as they passed by on the snow-slickened pavement. All the townspeople getting home to their warm homes, celebrating the holidays, unaware that both her sisters were walking into danger. Fear for them gripped her.

  “Can’t we get there faster?”

  “Gage wants us there to help. Not going to be much help if crash into something.”

  He was right. It hadn’t helped that they’d been on their way to drop Henry off at his home when the call came. And the elderly couple lived on the opposite side of town from Gage’s childhood home.

  She heaved a sigh of frustration. “I know. I’m just worried about them.”

  “I’d tell you not to worry, but I don’t lie to people. Gage’s crazy ex is capable of anything.”

  “Oh, thanks. That helps a bunch.”

  “Like I said, I’m not going to lie to you.” His eyes met her for a moment as he maneuvered carefully around two cars parked on the street. “But Gage isn’t a fool. He knows what he’s up against now. He also loves your sister above everything else, and because he loves her, you and Dylan are just as important to him now that you’re going to be family. He’s not going to do anything to hazard hurting Dylan or Bobby.”

  * * * * *

  “You stay here and wait for Wes,” Gage said as he parked the truck.

  “I don’t think so,” Bobby said, as she unfastened her seatbelt. “That’s my sister in there.”

  His big hand settled on her thigh. “Bobby, I can’t concentrate on saving Dylan and worrying about your safety at the same time.”

  “What? I’m supposed to just sit out here on my hands and watch you put your life in danger a second time? Oh wait, make that third, if you include the last time that woman nearly got you killed. I can’t take that. Not again. I’m your deputy. Let me help you by doing my job.”

  He ran his other hand over his face, a sign he was thinking about all his options. “Okay. But you have to do exactly what I say.”

  “I promise. No unnecessary risks.” She gripped his hand on her thigh and squeezed it tight.

  “The only light is in our bedroom,” he said. “That’s probably where they are. We’ll assume she’s incapacitated Dylan in some way.”

  Tears sprang to Bobby’s eyes as she thought about her baby sister being injured. She blinked them away. Crying wouldn’t solve anything and she’d just convinced Gage she was woman enough to handle the situation.

  He pointed to the stairs on the side of the house where the house used to be a duplex. Gage’s daddy had converted it
from upper and lower apartments into a single-family home. “Dad never tore down those stairs, just covered up the opening, making it the closet to my room. When I was a teen, I figured out how to get the panel loose and had an escape route to go hang with my friends after curfew.”

  “You little devil,” she said, glad for something to ease the tension and fear in them both.

  “Yeah, well, be glad I was. It’s our element of surprise. You’ll have to distract her until I can get in. It’s a little tricky or I’d let you do it. I’ll go up first and then text you when I’m in the closet. You don’t go inside until you get my text.”

  She nodded. “I can do that.”

  He cupped her face in both his big hands and kissed her slow and deeply. She felt the tremble go through him. Fear. Fear for her and their child. Then he released her. “Promise me you’ll do what’s best for you and the baby, no matter what?”

  “I promise.”

  “Okay, let’s go get Dylan out of this mess.”

  * * * * *

  Gage reached the top of the stairs, paused and took a breath. He felt around the edge to the spot where his fingers slid into a small indentation. He wiggled his fingers in, lifted up then out. The panel came away easily.

  Inside, was another panel, this one made of drywall. Again, he felt around the side until he found the notch he’d made years earlier. When he had both of them set safely out of the way, he stepped into the large closet. It had once been a small foyer for the upstairs apartment. Like he told Bobby, Dad had it closed in and converted to his bedroom closet.

  Thank you, Dad.

  He felt a whisper of air on his neck. Almost as if Dad was there, telling him he was welcome.

  Gage shook off the odd thought and focused on creeping through the closet. The last thing he wanted to do was make any noise to alert Moira he was here. His sister-in-law’s, wife’s and baby’s lives depended on the element of surprise.

  Baby.

  The idea hit him hard in the chest. He leaned one hand on the wall and took another deep breath. If he got them all through this, he was going to be a dad.

  A deep surge of protection washed over him.

  Moira nearly killed him, almost destroyed the town. No way was he letting her get away with harming his family.

  He wiggled past the huge box of baseball cards he’d collected as a kid and shoved some of his dress shirts out of the way. His hand on the inside knob of the old door, he slowly turned it, praying it didn’t creak.

  Nothing.

  Exhaling, he nudged it open. Long enough to see Dylan sitting on the bed, looking toward the door. Moving slightly he followed her line of sight. There stood Moira.

  And she had a gun.

  * * * * *

  Bobby stood on the back porch shivering—as much from fear as the cold. Two of the people she loved most in the world were inside with an insane person. One who wasn’t above harming someone else to get what she wanted.

  Breathe. Slow, deep breath and focus.

  She glanced at the phone in her hand. Five minutes. Five minutes since Gage had started up those stairs.

  How long did it take one man to sneak into his own house?

  It didn’t matter. He’d made her promise to wait until the text message buzzed her before going inside. And that’s exactly what she was going to do. The last thing she wanted to do was cause the woman to hurt Dylan before Gage was in position to stop her.

  Dylan.

  Images of her right after their parents died. Scared. Tiny. Big, brown eyes. It had taken her months to convince her they were all going to be fine. That she was going to take care of her and Chloe and no one was whisking her off to some orphanage or foster home.

  The phone in her hand buzzed, startling her out of her memories. She almost dropped it.

  Gage was in position in the closet.

  With another deep breath, she opened the door and stepped inside.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Bobby crept up the stairs, making sure to step on the left side of the fifth step from the top. That damn board always creaked if you stepped in the center. She wasn’t endangering her sister or child because of a squeaky step. At the landing, she peeked around the corner to their bedroom.

  Moira stood just inside. No longer slouching like the assistant, Penny. And in her hand she held a gun.

  Great. She was off her rocker and had a weapon.

  Beyond her, perched on the edge of the bed, was Dylan. Slightly pale, she seemed to be listening to whatever was spewing out of Moira’s mouth.

  She took a moment to consider her options. Her service revolver was holstered at her side. She’d been through extensive firearms training—Gage had insisted—but the last thing she wanted to do was come in with guns blazing. Dylan could get hit in the crossfire.

  No, she had a better idea. She pulled the collapsible baton out of her belt, and held it just behind her right leg.

  Taking a deep breath, she stepped up on the landing.

  “Dylan? Are you here?” she called, making sure her footsteps were heard on the wood floors.

  A movement up ahead. Moira moved to her left, between Dylan and the closet door.

  “Hello, Penny,” Bobby said as she stepped inside. “Or should I call you by your real name, Moira?”

  “So, you figured it out?” she said, her eyes narrowed in hatred and a sneer came on her face. “You’re smarter than you look.”

  Bobby stepped farther into the room. “No. You had us all fooled. Penny was a very good disguise.”

  Moira took another step back. The closet door behind her eased open an inch.

  “I hadn’t planned to make my appearance here known. Just screw up your wedding, but then you just had to come show your flowers to that other girl.”

  Bobby gave a deprecating shrug. “She’s my other sister. I wanted her opinion. Why did you come here?”

  “The dress. I was going to just cut it up, but I can’t find it.” Red blotches popped up beneath the makeup smeared on the woman’s face.

  “It’s already at the inn. I didn’t want to wrinkle it trying to move it so late,” Bobby said, almost as an apology. She needed to keep her calm. She took another step closer.

  “Stop right there.” Moira waved the gun at her.

  Bobby froze.

  “I know your little secret,” the other woman snarled at her.

  “My secret?” What was the woman talking about?

  “This.” She opened her other hand. There lay the positive pregnancy test. “Gage thinks he can give me up, marry you and make little babies with you?”

  At that moment, the door behind her creaked.

  Moira turned as Gage lunged into the room. At the same time, Bobby hit the button on the baton, heard it snap into place and she swung it down over Moira’s gun arm.

  The gun fired.

  Dylan screamed.

  Gage and Moira landed in a heap on the floor.

  * * * * *

  A gunshot sounded in the house just as Wes and Chloe started up the back steps. Followed by a scream.

  “Oh, my God,” she said, reaching for the back door.

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her back against him. His hand over her mouth.

  If looks could kill, he’d be dead right now as she glared at him over her shoulder. Too bad. He knew those were her sisters up there, but it was his job to keep her safe.

  “We don’t know the situation. You follow me,” he whispered in her ear. “Got it?”

  She nodded and some of the venom left her eyes. She might be angry with him, but she wasn’t going to let her endanger herself or her sisters more.

  “Good,” he said, easing her behind him as he palmed his weapon. “Put your hand on my back so I know you’re right with me.”

  He led her in the house and to the stairs. They started up the steps, Chloe’s hand still pressed against his side. As they drew closer they heard voices coming from the bedroom. Bobby and Gage’s. Exhaling the breath he’d been h
olding, Wes re-holstered his gun and moved aside, so Chloe could rush past him. He stopped in the doorway and took in the scene.

  The bedroom filled with noise. All three sisters talking and hugging at once.

  “You can’t arrest me, you bastard,” Moira cussed from the floor, where Gage had rolled her to her stomach and was applying handcuffs. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “We’ll start with discharge of a weapon inside the town limits,” Gage said, hauling her to her feet.

  Damn. He’d seen Penny a time or two in town. Moira looked nothing like the rather shy, awkward woman he’d met. That was some acting job. “Want me to take her to the jail, boss?”

  “I’d appreciate it.” Gage handed her over. “The big one over at the courthouse, Wes, not the one at the office. I don’t want to have to look at her anymore.”

  The troupe made it down the stairs with Wes keeping a firm grip on Moira’s arm. On the main floor he paused and looked back at Gage, who had his arm wrapped firmly around his fiancée. “You still on for the bachelor party at my place?”

  Gage looked at his watch, then grinned. “Should make it just in time.”

  A knock sounded on the door.

  Wes hauled Moira out through the kitchen exit as Bobby went to see who was at the front.

  “Oh, yes, please,” she said.

  He turned to see what was going on. Beyond Gage and the sisters stood the troupe of strolling carolers dressed in Victorian-era costumes. They broke out in song.

  “God rest you merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay…”

  Wes shook his head and helped Moira down the steps to his truck.

  Only in Westen.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The town hall had been converted into a beautiful wintery Christmas party. One to celebrate the wedding of two of the town’s heroes. Every table and chair was covered in snow-white linens. The center of each table held glass cylinders full of cranberries and candles, around which was a wreath of pine and holly berries. Henry and Chloe’s friend had miraculously whipped up flower arrangements that morning at Petal Pushers to sit on the main table and every other dining table. The white hydrangeas to look like snow balls surrounded by red roses, Gerbera daisies and calla lilies. On the side of the wedding party’s table sat a five-tier wedding cake—each layer had decorations of sprigs of cranberries, pinecones, greenery and white roses, all made out of icing—which was currently being dismantled by Willie Mae and her staff from Yeast & West Bakery to serve the guests after they ate the main meal. Christmas carols played overhead as everyone helped themselves to the potluck-style dinner.