by Miley Maine
Pine Hills was a nice town, full of nice people. She might as well enjoy the benefits. I was certainly going to enjoy having her here with me for as long as possible.
Chapter Eleven
Ava
So Tyler had taken me out to dinner.
What the hell did that mean?
We’d slept together. He’d been amazing in bed. And then a few days later, he’d awkwardly told me not to cook for the evening, and then he took me to meet his coworkers, and then to eat at a steakhouse. I’d had a great time, I was pretty sure he had too.
I couldn't tell if he wanted to ask me out, or it was an obligation he’d planned to fulfill, and we’d never speak of it again.
I certainly didn’t consider him under any obligation to entertain me just because we’d slept together.
I’d thought I’d caught him scowling at Barrett, his deputy at the sheriff’s department, but I couldn't be sure. I’d been pretty sure that Barrett had been checking me out, but he’d abruptly stopped. Maybe he’d thought Tyler and I were on a date.
Most people would think that a guy’s best friend would know if he was on a date, but it seemed like Tyler kept his business to himself. His own sister and his best friend probably were in the dark most of the time about what Tyler was thinking.
He claimed his sister told him to get me out of the house more, and I didn’t doubt that. Abigail was curious about me, and about my role in her big brother’s life. I had the impression that she could tell something had happened between us, but she was considerate enough not to ask outright if we’d slept together.
After our non-date at the steakhouse, I was pretty sure Tyler was turned on when we got home. I was too. My core ached, ready to be filled by his cock again. But I needed to think first. I was getting so invested in him, and this community.
And he was still paying me to be his maid. I had to remember that was my priority while I lived in his house. He’d saved my ass, and there was no way I was going to take advantage of that.
I was surprised at how time consuming taking care of this house was. It took hours each day, and Tyler didn’t even have children. I couldn’t fathom what kind of time a few tiny humans would add to the workload. No wonder my parents had employed so many different people. They’d had drivers, chefs, landscapers, housekeepers, a laundry service and a nanny, when we were younger.
Having live-in staff had been the norm in my world. But now that I was living in Pine Hills, it was clear that employing people for personal tasks was a rarity in this small town. Most people mowed their own yard, cooked their own food, and washed their own clothes. They only hired childcare during the hours they were working, and when a parent was off work, they took care of their kids themselves. Most people didn’t even have a housekeeper.
It was a brand new world to me, and I found that I liked it quite a bit. Doing Tyler’s laundry was no on my to-do list, but I needed to wash my own clothes, and I wanted to be able to wash his dish towels too, as well as the towels I used in the bathroom.
Once again, the internet saved me. It appeared that I wasn’t the only twenty-four year old who didn’t learn how to do her own laundry as a teenager. Just as I’d learned how to work the dishwasher, I learned how to operate the washing machine. I learned I needed a specific kind of detergent, and that I was supposed to sort the clothes out in a certain way.
I found the ‘hand wash’ setting to be helpful for many of my outfits, and when I attempted to use the dryer, I only shrank one shirt.
I finished a load of towels and pulled them from the dryer, hugging the warm cloth to my chest. I’d found the scent I liked best -- a lavender that wasn’t overpowering, and Tyler hadn’t complained, so I assumed he liked it too.
On Friday night, I sat down and opened my laptop. Once a day, I logged on and checked the arrest records for Cook County, Chicago. I wanted to keep and eye on what was going on at home, as well as keep tabs on my dad’s partners.
So far, it had been exactly one week, and there had been no changes. No arrests, no news articles, no disruption in the city of Chicago.
I gasped as the page loaded.
There had been no changes until now.
Christopher and Carl had been arrested. Both of them. By the Chicago Police Department.
My heart stuttered and then sped up to a breakneck speed. It pounded so hard I felt like I could hear every beat.
I skimmed the charges, and then went back to read carefully. The arrests had happened yesterday, but were just now showing up in the system. There were no racketeering charges, no money laundering charges, no embezzlement charges. No felonies at all, and no FBI involvement. They’d been picked up for petty crimes, misdemeanors that had them released on bail just hours after their arrests.
They had both been arrested for trespassing and public intoxication and basic assault.
That wasn’t like either of them. They didn’t drink in excess, and they never did the dirty work of hurting someone themselves.
Trespassing? I doubted they did much of that themselves either. But maybe they’d gotten caught somewhere, and tried to play it off by acting drunk. This had to be related to them discovering I was looking into their crimes. Because they were well into their fifties, and they’d never been arrested before. All those years, and they’d never caught breaking the law.
It couldn't be a coincidence. Had they gone after my father? After my co-workers? Would they have hit the streets, and gone after Jenny?
In addition to my racing heart, my stomach churned and my breathing picked up. My vision tunneled until all I could see were their vile faces on the computer screen. This was not an outcome that I’d anticipated.
I sucked in air, willing myself to calm down. If I hyperventilated, Tyler might notice.
I looked up to see Tyler standing over me.
“Ava? Is something wrong?” he asked.
Oh fuck. It was too late. He’d already noticed. I opened my mouth to reply, but no words came out.
Chapter Twelve
Tyler
Ava’s breathing was rapid. Her face was ashen.
Had she gotten bad news? This looked more like fear than sadness. I’d already said her name, and she hadn’t responded. “Ava.” This time I put my hand on her shoulder. “What’s going on?”
She jumped about a foot in the air. Her head whipped up and her eyes met mine. Her lips moved, but still no words came out.
I pulled up a chair and sat down next to her. Because she wasn’t telling me anything, I looked closer at her computer screen. Mugshots.
The mug shots of two men took up the entire screen.
Christopher Moore and Carl Simmons. Arrested in Chicago, around twenty-four hours ago. I looked at the birthdates. These men were in their early fifties. Surely one of these wasn’t Ava’s ex, assuming that was what she was running from.
I read their charges. Not great, but nothing too scary either. In the scheme of things, their crimes were very minor, even to a sheriff.
The sight of them seemed to be making her panic worse, so I took the screen and pushed it closed.
“Hey, whatever it is, we’ll figure it out, okay?” I didn’t touch her again, but I did stay close. “Sit up straight and close your eyes. And breathe with me.”
She did as I said and shut her eyes, and she pulled herself up, straightening her spine.
I counted out loud for her. I attempted to recall the calming techniques I had learned over the years. After a particularly rough deployment where we lost two of our teammates, I went to trauma therapy. I didn't think it would help, but it did, at least a little.
“You’re panicking right now, but you’re actually safe,” I said in my calmest voice. “No one’s here.”
She took a deep, shuddering breath. “Put your hands on the table. Focus on the wood. What does it feel like? Is it cold? Is it rough, or is it smooth?”
She still wasn’t talking, but by the time I got done asking her to identify all the details of my
table, her breathing was even.
She opened her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“No problem.” I figured I could share something about myself, even though I’d rather not. Maybe it would help her not feel so alone. “I've had them before too.”
“Panic attacks?” she asked.
“Panic, anxiety, whatever you want to call it. I've had it happen to me, and so I recognized it when someone else goes through the same thing.”
“From your time in the military?”
“Yeah.”
“Thank you for your service. I hope that doesn’t seem too random for me to say right now.”
“No. It’s fine. Thanks.” It was awkward to hear that phrase sometimes, especially from people I didn’t know, but I always appreciated the sentiment. “The stuff I deal with is in the past. But this looked like it was pretty current. You want to tell me what that was all about?”
She still sat there, not saying anything. I couldn't help her if I didn’t know what was going on. “Ava. You need to tell me.”
“I know. I will.” A long pause. “I knew them in Chicago.”
“Knew them how?”
She still didn’t answer, and my mind started racing. How was she associated with these two? Was she in some kind of trouble? Fuck. I knew she was too good to be true. It might be harsh, but I was done tiptoeing around her. “Tell me right now who those men are. Don’t skip any details, don’t leave anything out.”
“They’re in the mafia. And they want to kill me.”
What the fuck?
I’d been duped. I’d assumed the best of her, and convinced myself that she was innocent, that she was hiding from a crazed ex.
But apparently she was mixed up in some kind of illicit operation, and now she’d brought this shit to my doorstep. If I’d run the background check like I was supposed to, what would I have found?
She looked up at me with her big eyes. A single tear rolled down her cheek. My impulse was to comfort her, but she’d lied to me. What was she involved in? Drugs? Theft? “Who are these men? Why are they scaring you?”
I brought my hand down on the table and stared right into her eyes. “What made you come here? How’d you find my ad?”
If I had to call the FBI right now, I would. I would not let her manipulate me.
She closed her eyes, and her thin shoulders trembled.
I nearly relented. Could I truly blame her? I was the one who hadn’t done any vetting. I hadn’t done my part.
But hell. I’d not only let her in my house, I’d introduced her to Barrett, and I’d let her hang out with my little sister. Thank God I hadn’t introduced a criminal to my mother.
Her voice trembled. “I never had an appointment to interview. I just walked in, and I guess your other applicant never showed.”
So she’d been lying to me from day one.
I’d taken a con artist into my home, and into my bed.
Great job, Tyler. You’re a great fucking sheriff.
Chapter Thirteen
Ava
A sob threatened to escape my chest, but I held it in. I was an adult; I needed to handle this by explaining what was going on, and not resort to crying to gain Tyler’s sympathy.
Although from the look on his face, he had exactly zero sympathy for me. And I didn’t blame him one bit.
I’d jumped when he slammed his hand down, but it was no less than I deserved. He had a right to know why I was in his house.
“Why? Why did you leave Chicago? Start from the beginning. Because Ava, I am losing patience.”
I gulped. He was, and I would be too if I were him. So I started talking and I told him the whole story. As I talked, his expression went from pure fury, to frustration, and then dismay.
“So they were following you?”
“Yes.”
“And you were scared because you think they’ll assume you turned them in.”
“Yes. They’ve never been arrested. Ever.”
Tyler had nothing to say after that. He had listened to every word I said, and paid close attention, but he offered no comments. He didn’t even go off on an angry tirade.
After I was done talking, the sob I’d been holding in finally broke free. Not wanting to burden Tyler any longer, I swiped at my eyes.
“Let me get this straight,” he said. “You bought old clothes and pretended to be a drug addict on the streets of Chicago so you could expose a gambling ring that was related to an organized crime operation?”
“Yes. I did. I found quite a bit of evidence too.”
“Where is that evidence now?”
“I have it on my computer, and it’s encrypted on an online file too, so that no one can destroy it.”
“What are you planning to do with it?”
“I was still considering my options.”
“So me being in law enforcement has nothing to do with why you’re here?”
It was a fair question. But meeting Tyler had been a coincidence. “No. That was random.”
“But when you heard I’d been in the Navy SEALs, and was currently a sheriff, you didn’t think I might be able to help you with this?”
“I was planning to tell you about why I was here.”
“When?” he asked.
“Soon.” I couldn't give him a date, because I’d never gotten around to deciding when I’d tell him.
Tyler stood up suddenly. “We’re done here for tonight. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I know what I’ve done. I came here, and they could follow me here. I’ve made myself a part of this town, and I’ve endangered all of your lives.”
“It would have been better if you’d been honest, but it’s done now.”
“I'm still sorry. I'll leave right now.” I pushed my chair back, the loud scraping sound it made fit perfectly with my mood.
He grabbed my arm. “Don't go. I can protect myself. I'll go make some calls and make sure these two stay in Chicago. I have a former teammate from the SEALs who is a detective in the Chicago Police Department now. I'll have him call me if they violate the terms of their bail.”
I appreciated the offer, but he hadn’t seen the looks on their faces when they discussed how I’d been investigating them. “I don't know if that's going to be enough.”
“It will be. Trust me on this.” He let go of my arm. “Go on to bed. We'll talk more tomorrow.”
I stayed sitting at the kitchen table while he locked all the doors and activated the security system. He didn't come back to the table but he did say, “You don't have to worry here.”
“Thank you,” was all I could muster.
He turned off the lights and went upstairs.
He might have told me to stay but there was no way I could do that. I sat there in the kitchen in the dark for an hour. Once I heard Tyler brush his teeth and go to bed, I got up and went to my room. I packed up my belongings, which didn't take long.
I crept down the stairs as silently as I could. I typed in the alarm code so that I could exit while it was still activated. I loaded my bags into the backseat of my car. I got in the driver's seat and spent a minute staring at the white farmhouse that I had grown so fond of in just seven days.
I hadn't been here long, but I hated leaving. As much as I regretted lying to Tyler, I was glad that I’d met him. I was never going to forget the time that we shared.
I turned on my car and glanced up in the rearview mirror as I put the gear stick in reverse. My tires crunched over the gravel.
Then I screamed.
A man stood behind my car.
Was it Carl? Christopher? Had they found me so quickly?
I slammed on my breaks. Fuck. It took a second, but the man’s silhouette was familiar in the moonlight. This wasn’t some thug coming after me. It was Tyler, standing in his driveway with his arms crossed.
Heart pounding once again, I pushed the door of my car open.
“What are you doing?” I screamed.
“I almost ran over you.”
“You wouldn't have almost run me down if you had done as I said and gone on to bed.”
“I can't stay here and put you in danger. I won’t.” I wasn't going to say it out loud, but I already cared about Tyler in a way that I hadn't about another man. Ever.
He grabbed my arm again. “Get in the house.”
The commanding tone in his voice would usually have gotten my hackles up, and I’d have told him exactly what I thought of him. But in this case, I found myself doing as he said.
I left my bags in the car and went back into his house.
I deserved whatever he had to say to me.
Chapter Fourteen
Tyler
As feisty as she was, I was a little shocked that Ava had listened when I’d told her to get back in the house. After I’d talked to my friend in Chicago, and my contact at the FBI, I was fairly certain that Christopher and Carl were still in Chicago, but that didn’t mean I wanted Ava out here unprotected.
I couldn’t imagine where she’d have gone from here. Back to Chicago, where she’d get caught by those two pieces of scum? Or would she go on the run again, and go farther south, trying to put some distance between her and her father’s thugs as possible?
Ava was going to be the death of me. I’d fucking told her to stay put, and what had she done? She’d snuck out of the house. Snuck was a generous word, and there was no way that she would ever have gotten past me.
First off, she had to type in the alarm code, and I had a security panel in my room that alerted me anytime a door or window was opened, even if the alarm wasn’t triggered. There was no way anyone was leaving this house without me knowing it.
