Tool Belt Defender. Carla Cassidy
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taut body over the next couple of days but there wouldn’t be anything more between them, not that he’d made any sign that he was even remotely interested in her.
Within twenty minutes everything was off the truck and stacked neatly on one side of the yard and Ed Burton drove away. Brittany was surprised when Buck Harmon and another young man appeared in the backyard.
“There you are,” Alex said with a smile to the two young men.
“Sorry we’re late. Gary had to stuff his face with a sandwich before we left his house,” Buck said. He raised a hand to Brittany in greeting.
“These are my helpers,” Alex said. “I’m assuming you know Buck and Gary.”
“I know Buck,” she replied. And what she knew of him she didn’t like. At twenty-four years old Buck had a reputation for trouble. He worked odd jobs, drank more than he should and could be a hothead. More than once as a deputy she’d had to give him a stern warning about some infraction or another. “But I don’t believe I’ve met Gary before,” she added.
“Gary Cox.” He strode over to her and held out his hand. The freckles on his face danced as he offered her a friendly smile and shook her hand with an adult firmness. His coppery hair gleamed in the sunlight as he stepped back from her. “I’m Buck’s friend and I’ve been helping Alex on some of his jobs.”
He looked like an odd companion for Buck. Gary gave the impression of being a puppy dog, eager to please and slightly goofy. “Nice to meet you, Gary,” she said.
“Now that the introductions are out of the way, it’s time to get to work,” Alex said.
“And I’ll just get out of your way,” Brittany replied. She went back inside the house but stood at the back window and watched as Alex and the younger men got to work.
She wondered if Alex knew that Buck wasn’t the most trustworthy person in town. Buck had had more than his share of run-ins with all of the Graysons. If she got a chance she’d mention her concerns about him to Alex, but in the meantime she watched as the work began on the dream that had helped keep her sane through her months of captivity.
Watching Alex work should become a national pastime, she thought as she watched him pick up a hole digger and hand it to Buck.
She turned away, deciding she needed to stop watching Alex and find something more constructive to do. She’d been meaning to clean out her closet since moving back into the house. She’d lost about fifteen pounds while being held by The Professional and intended to donate a lot of the clothes that were now too big for her to charity.
She kept her mind blank as she worked, knowing that if she gave it free rein it always went back to the filthy cell where she’d been held, counting the days, the very minutes to death.
It was just after three when she heard a knock on her back door and hurried to answer. Once again a rivulet of warmth wiggled through her as she saw Alex.
“We’re knocking off for the day,” he said when she opened the door. “We’ve got the posts up but they need to set. Since tomorrow is Saturday we’ll give them the weekend and we’ll be here bright and early on Monday morning.”
“Sounds good,” she replied. “Then I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Have a good weekend,” he said and then he was gone.
She hadn’t realized how much the sound of the male voices coming from the backyard throughout the afternoon had comforted her.
Now she found the silence slightly oppressive. She moved the box of oversize clothing she’d packed next to the front door and then called a local charity for a pickup the next day.
Sitting down on the sofa, she punched the remote control to turn on the television, just wanting the noise to fill the emptiness of the otherwise silent house.
For almost three months she’d been alone in the shed, with only the sound of The Professional’s voice to occasionally break the silence with his taunts and threats. She’d discovered that now she didn’t do silence well.
Her thoughts instantly drifted back to Alex. There was no question that she felt a visceral physical pull toward him. And why shouldn’t she? He was definitely attractive and she was definitely lonely.
She only left the house for grocery shopping and then only when it was absolutely necessary. She told herself it wasn’t fear that kept her inside but rather the stares and whispers that followed her anywhere she went.
A couple of the friends she’d had before being kidnapped had contacted her after her rescue, but she’d realized they seemed more interested in finding out the grisly details of the crime than her well-being.
Although she was happy that her brothers had all found love while she’d been gone, the fact that they were now building lives with loved ones and had a place where they belonged only made her loneliness deeper. She didn’t know where she belonged anymore.
The late afternoon and evening crept by. She fixed herself a salad for dinner, then watched some more TV. Finally at nine o’clock she went into her bedroom and got ready for bed.
She’d just turned out the light and closed her eyes when her phone rang. Fumbling on the nightstand, she turned on the lamp next to the bed and looked at the caller ID on the phone.
Anonymous caller.
She frowned and sat up. Probably a sales call or some stupid survey, she thought as she grabbed the receiver.
“Hello?”
Nobody replied, although she knew somebody was on the other end. She could hear the soft sound of breathing. “Hello?” she repeated, this time more firmly. “Who is this?”
Still nobody answered, but the breathing grew louder and she was suddenly cast back in time, back to when The Professional would breathe a little harder, a little faster as he talked about the party of death he intended.
Trapped in a moment of sheer terror, her heart beat frantically and she couldn’t catch her breath. Frozen with fear she heard nothing but the sound of the caller breathing … and waiting.
She finally managed to crash the receiver back into the cradle.
She drew several deep breaths and then released a shaky laugh. The Professional was dead. She was safe and a prank phone call had nothing to do with the man who had once planned her death.
The phone call, along with the balloon, had been nothing more than coincidences that had triggered bad memories. There was absolutely no reason for her to be afraid, yet she couldn’t stop shaking and she couldn’t quiet the dreadful sense of foreboding that slithered through her.
It took a very long time for her heart to finally return to a normal rhythm and even longer before she was ready to turn out the light.
Alex spent much of Saturday working in the yard with Emily. He cut the grass while she raked and bagged the clippings and then they went to the local nursery and picked out flowers to plant along the walk leading from the street to the house.
As they worked Emily kept up a string of chatter, asking him if there were flowers in Heaven, what kinds of flowers they were planting and anything else that entered her brilliant little mind.
It was after dinner and cleanup that he announced he thought a trip to Izzy’s was in order to reward them for all their hard work during the day.
At just after seven they left the house and headed down the sidewalk toward Main Street. It was a beautiful spring evening, unusually warm and with the scent of newly bloomed flowers hanging in the air.
Emily alternated between hopping and skipping next to him. She was a child that rarely just walked. She oozed energy and an exuberant happiness that filled Alex’s soul. In the weeks immediately following Linda’s death he’d feared that his daughter would never know real happiness again, but she was a testimony to the resilience of the human