Explosive Reunion. Karen Kirst
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They worked together on the display. Tori placed the older treats in a bag in order to give Felicia space to set out the fresh ones.
“These are going to the shelter on Franklin Street, right?”
Felicia nodded, her espresso-colored hair rippling over her shoulders. When in uniform, she wore it in a tight bun. The loose style softened her hard edges. “That’s right. The workers appreciate your generosity since the budget won’t allow for extras like this.” She cast Tori a side-glance. “I hope closing today won’t put too much of a dent in sales.”
“We can handle a day here and there.”
Worry threatened to choke her. What if the police couldn’t identify this guy? She couldn’t become a permanent hermit, afraid to step outside her house. Not to mention the financial impact on her mother’s shop if they had to keep it closed indefinitely.
Her mom had been terribly upset that her daughter’s life was in jeopardy, but she’d clung to her faith and reminded Tori of God’s promises.
Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you.
Yes, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.
Whoever this madman was, he’d make a mistake eventually.
Hopefully before he completed his mission. A shudder shimmied through her.
Another knock on the door sent her pulse racing. “Excuse me for a minute.”
Deputy Clark was at the door again, this time with an employee of the alarm company she’d contacted last night. After reassuring the deputy, she let the man inside. About midtwenties, he had the appearance of a Marine. His blond hair was cut to regulation, and peeking from his long-sleeved shirt was what looked like an eagle, globe and anchor tattoo. Definitely Marine. Maybe he had a side job. Or he’d been discharged and stuck around the area.
“I’m Brandon.” His gray eyes roamed the merchandise along the hallway before snagging on Felicia, who was still in the parlor. “You’re wanting to wire the windows on the second floor, is that right?”
“Yes. Thank you for coming out on short notice.”
“No problem, ma’am. We had a cancelation, so we were able to fit you in.” He held a toolbox in one hand, a clipboard in the other.
“Give me a moment.” Leaving him in the foyer, she hurried to the cash register and retrieved the envelope containing Maria’s check. “Would you mind taking this to your cousin?”
“I’ll drop it off after I stop at the shelter.” She put the envelope inside her now-empty plastic container and then grabbed the bag of treats. “Maria or I will contact you midweek to see if you want another batch next weekend.”
“Thanks, Felicia.”
They walked together to the door. Tori watched her leave through the garden and wave to the deputy, who was inside his cruiser.
She almost called her back. Brandon’s presence behind her put her on edge. Before yesterday, she wouldn’t have felt uneasy being alone with a stranger. Being a target had changed her perceptions.
He’s here at my request, she reminded herself. An employee of a reputable company.
Turning, she pasted on a smile. “It’s this way.”
“Don’t forget your coffee.”
“Right.” With mug in hand, she ascended first.
Every step of the way, she felt his gaze boring into her back. She found herself wishing Cade was there with her, which was irritating. She’d lived on her own for many years and managed just fine.
Inside the apartment, she gave him a quick tour of the rooms. A faint scent of cigarette smoke clung to his clothes, competing with his aftershave. His manner was polite, but his eyes followed her in a way that made her uncomfortable.
She covered her nervousness by sipping on her coffee, which tasted more bitter than usual.
“I’ll start in your bedroom,” he said.
“I’ll stay out of your way.”
Tori drained the mug and ventured past the dining table and open kitchen to the living area. The cream walls were devoid of pictures, and there was a stack of cardboard boxes in the corner waiting to be unpacked. The apartment wasn’t completely organized yet, but the books in the built-in shelves on either side of the fireplace and decorative pillows on the sage sofa made it feel like home. This was her sanctuary. Her safe space.
The memory of the explosion and the savageness of the flames mocked her. She didn’t feel safe.
Going to the window overlooking the street, she watched a pair of bicyclists navigate the sidewalk. Over at the bed-and-breakfast, a young man and woman unloaded their suitcases. Newlyweds? The area got a lot of those, eager to honeymoon at the beach.
Like yesterday, the sun was obscured by clouds, leaving the day cooler than usual and gloomy. Suddenly light-headed, she gripped the windowsill and waited for the moment to pass. Skipping breakfast was catching up with her.
Her phone buzzed. The screen indicated it was Angela, a dear friend Tori had made during sophomore year in high school. Reconnecting with her this past month had been a joy.
“Why am I getting secondhand accounts of your adventures from the nurses on my floor?” Angela demanded when Tori answered.
“What exactly did you hear?”
“Nancy’s sister lives on your street. She said your car is toast.”
“Sounds about right.”
“There’s also a photograph of the damaged diner circulating on the local news sites. I recognized you in the background, conversing with law enforcement. I learned of the shooting last night, but I had no idea you were there.” A thread of uncertainty laced her voice. “Are you okay? I’m assuming you would’ve let me know if you’d gotten hurt.”
“I have a sprained wrist. Very minor. I would’ve called you, but everything happened so fast...” She trailed off, the scene in the booth replaying in vivid detail. One minute she’d been having a meal with Cade, the next she’d been dodging bullets.
“Tori?”
“I was the target,” she blurted.
Stunned silence stretched over the line. “What did you say?”
“The shooter was aiming for me. I’m positive I spotted him in the park across the street before it happened.”
“But the news article didn’t mention a motive or list the names of people in the diner.”
“The sheriff’s office is keeping certain information out of the news for now.” Tori hoped her name stayed out of it. Reporters hounding her night and day would be a major headache. Not to mention they might dig into her past and discover her ties to Patrick. The Canine Companion didn’t need that kind of press.
“I’m sorry you’re dealing with this.” She sighed. “Are you at the shop? I’ll come over and keep you company.”
She pressed her hand to her nape, surprised to find it damp. “That’s not a good idea, Ang. Too dangerous. I have police protection for now. And Cade slept in the shop overnight. He’ll be back soon.”
The beat of silence was telling. “You’re with Mr. America?”
Tori hadn’t heard that old nickname in a long while. Angela had dubbed him Mr. America because he’d epitomized what every young man would want for themselves—the popular student who was beloved by students and teachers alike. Very few people knew he had to work harder than most others to achieve decent grades or that his family life didn’t resemble a fairy tale.
“How