Buried Memories. Carol J. Post
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I’ll get your locks while we’re there.”
She released a relieved sigh. “I appreciate it. I was trying to figure out how to fit everything in today. I took off an hour early Friday to get a jump on my trip to Miami, so I hated to have to beg off again today, being the new kid on the block.”
“You won’t have to. I’ll make sure we have everything you need, and by bedtime tonight, I’ll have you secure.”
She frowned. “As secure as I can be with my personal data out there.”
He raised his brows.
“The intruder went through my files. Seemed to be especially interested in my financial information.”
“Not good.” No wonder she was ill at ease. “Have you filed fraud alerts?”
“I will in a few minutes. That’s going to be my entertainment over breakfast.” She gave him a wry smile, then tugged Callie’s leash to turn her around. Sasha eagerly followed.
“Anything else disturbed?”
She hesitated, her lower lip pulled between her teeth. It was something she used to do whenever she was perturbed or confused or any number of other emotions. Apparently she still did. “Lavender.”
“Lavender?” The purple rabbit? He’d once asked her why she was hanging on to an ugly, ragged-out stuffed animal, and she’d gotten rather...defensive. The bruises on his arm had lasted several days. “You still have Lavender?”
“Until this weekend, I did.” She frowned again. “Someone was apparently not happy about finding no money in the house and decided to string her up to the ceiling fan and slice her belly open.”
His gut clenched, and a cold wave of unease washed through him. “That doesn’t sound like your regular, run-of-the-mill burglar.”
She pursed her lips. “Amber took it as a threat.”
“I’d tend to agree.”
“But I don’t have any enemies.”
Maybe she didn’t have any she knew of. “How about saving my contact info in your phone?”
She pulled it from her pocket and her thumbs slid over the screen. When she was ready, he gave her his number.
“If anything happens or you feel at all unsafe, call me. I’m right next door. I can be here a lot faster than the police can.”
She slid the phone back into her pocket. “Thanks, but I think you’re worrying over nothing. I’m sure it was a simple act of vandalism.” She stopped at the end of her driveway. “I’ll see you tonight. Meanwhile, Callie will stand guard.”
“Let me walk you to your door.” He would make sure she was locked safely inside, then cut through the woods.
Halfway up the drive, his gaze stopped on her porch. Something was attached to her front door. She saw it at the same time he did and picked up her pace.
It was a single sheet of paper, folded in half, secured with a piece of tape. As she removed it, he cast an uneasy glance toward the woods. When he’d first stepped out of the house, he’d heard a rustle. He’d assumed it was an animal. Was it possible...
When he looked at Nicki again, she was staring at the unfolded paper, brow creased. Before he could ask, she angled the page toward him. It was blank except for three words written in all caps—THE PARTY’S OVER.
She gave him a sudden dry laugh. It held no humor, just a lot of desperation. “Trust me, these past few months, my life has been anything but a party.”
“Someone apparently disagrees and is planning to make sure things get unpleasant fast.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “You need to call the police.”
“I will. But it’ll have to wait till tonight. I’ve got to get to work. I can’t be late.”
She pushed the key into the lock and turned it, then opened the door. Her hands shook, something she was trying hard to hide.
“Where do you work?”
“City hall.”
“How about if I take you?”
“Thanks, but I’ll be fine. No one is going to bother me here with Callie around, and I don’t think anyone would dare approach me at work.” She stepped over the threshold and raised a hand in farewell. “Later.”
He watched her close the door, then moved toward the woods with Sasha. Nicki wasn’t the only one who needed to get to work. Andy would be ready to start soon, too.
He’d just reached the driveway on the other side of the trees when the front door swung open. Andy stepped onto the porch holding up a cell phone. Tyler patted his pocket. He’d left the phone on the table after finishing his coffee.
“It’s Bridgett.”
Their older sister. He cringed. He’d forgotten to call her when he’d arrived yesterday. Of course, Andy could have assured her he was alive and well. But he knew Bridgett, and she wouldn’t be satisfied until she’d heard it from him. She’d worried about him as much in the past two years that he’d lived stateside as she had during his tours in Afghanistan. Maybe more. His mom would have been right there with Bridgett. But the day before his eighteenth birthday, the cancer she’d fought since the summer he turned fifteen had finally won. His dad wasn’t doing any worrying, either. He’d walked out years earlier.
He stepped onto the porch and took his phone from Andy. Once he’d convinced his sister that he was all in one piece, he headed to the back to dress for work. Tonight he’d get Nicki’s lock replaced. While he was at it, he’d check the ones on her other doors and windows. Any he wasn’t happy with, he’d replace the following day.
The fact was, he’d cared for her all those years ago, and he felt no less for her now. As young teenagers, they’d been drawn together by a mutual toughness. He’d had a chip on his shoulder from his dad walking out, and she’d still had an attitude from her years in foster care.
But things had been simple then compared to now. In the fifteen years since he’d left Crystal River, he’d faced too many battles. He bore the scars, both physical and emotional. Nicki probably had enough of her own issues to fight without having to deal with his. Besides, he couldn’t stay in one place long enough to pursue anything more serious than friendship with anyone. He had to keep moving to hold the memories at bay.
But that wasn’t going to stop him from doing everything he could to protect her while he was here. Someone was threatening his longtime friend, and he was going to get to the bottom of it. He wouldn’t leave until he made sure she was safe.
Maybe, if he was successful, it would help make up for the other times he’d tried to protect someone but failed.
Nicki picked up the porcelain bowl in the corner and crossed the kitchen. The painted paw prints lining the bottom shone clean and clear, licked to a glossy shine. As she placed the empty dish in the sink, Callie watched her every move, tail wagging, eyes filled with doggy eagerness. She never gave up hope that maybe, just this once, there would be seconds.
Nicki strolled toward the side door and cast a glance back at the golden retriever staying right on her heels. “You behave yourself.”
She would be out all evening for the midweek church service. But she hoped the admonition wouldn’t be necessary. A year ago, yeah. When she’d first brought Callie home from the Humane Society, she’d been well past the energetic puppy stage, but past abuse had made her terrified of everything that moved and a whirlwind of destruction when left alone.
Now she didn’t even need crating. Finding a forever home where she was showered with love had made a world of difference. Nicki bent to scratch the dog’s