by Alison Stone
Zach scanned the faces of the pedestrians filling the sidewalks. Where are you, Ashley? His former neighbor had claimed she had changed, but her absence today brought back a lot of hard feelings. When Ashley had called him about her coworker’s concerns, she had painted Bridget as a wide-eyed nursing student who had grown up out in the country. He had gotten the distinct impression Ashley had wanted to control how and where Bridget made a report, and to perhaps convince her that her concerns were invalid. Or maybe Zach was being too hard on Ashley. He still hadn’t forgiven her for the role she had played in his sister’s death.
Don’t go there. You’ve got enough going on without delving into old hurts.
Zach did another quick check of his phone to see if Ashley had called. Nope. It seemed Bridget, walking away with her head dipped, was doing the same thing. Debating if and where he should grab some dinner before going home, Zach hesitated and watched the commuters surge forward at the intersection. The crosswalk beacon flashed red numbers: thirteen...twelve...eleven... If he hustled to the corner, he could make it. He slid his phone into his pocket and broke into a jog.
A car revved its engine, drawing Zach’s attention. A bright blue muscle car with tinted windows flexed its impatience. He rolled his eyes, then checked the signal. Five...four... He stepped off the curb. He’d make it across easily.
“Excuse me, sir.” A gentle tap on his arm made him stop and look down. An elderly woman who came up to his elbow tugged on an unmoving two-wheeled metal pull cart. “The wheel is stuck. Can you help me?”
“Of course.” He grabbed the side of the cart and lifted it up and out of the narrow grate slit. “There you go.”
“Thank you,” the woman said, then she squinted at the traffic light. “Sorry, I made you miss the light.” A black SUV whizzed past, confirming that they had indeed missed their chance to cross.
“No problem.” Zach guided the woman back up onto the curb, then pressed the button to cross. The next surge of pedestrians crowded in around them. On the other side of the road, Bridget waited to cross the next street. Based on the tilt of her head, she appeared to still be distracted by her phone. Zach noted the muscle car idling in the far-right lane, its engine revving. How obnoxious. The side windows were tinted, making it impossible to see the offender. Probably some twentysomething trying to impress with a car and its payment that forced him to live in his parents’ basement.
Across the way, pedestrians stepped off the curb to cross, and Bridget trailed behind. Just then the idling car shot forward, its tires squealing as it made a sharp right turn directly into the crosswalk.
A woman screamed.
Cars screeched to a stop.
Horns blared.
Zach’s heart lurched. He ran into the street, slapping his open palm on the hood of the closest car to get the driver’s attention. Thankfully the car had slowed to a crawl due to the commotion. With a job as an undercover agent, he knew one of these days, things weren’t going to go his way. Until then, he’d keep taking chances.
Was that what he had done with his CI? Taken too many chances? Now the poor kid who’d been giving him key information on some drug dealers higher up in the chain was dead. No redemption for that kid.
A horn blared, and Zach reflexively held out his palm and then jabbed his index finger in the general direction of the impatient driver. By the time he reached the crosswalk, a crowd had gathered, making it impossible to see what had happened. He scanned each face. Where’s Bridget? The roar of the muscle car grew distant, weaving around cars and disappearing down the street.
“Excuse me, excuse me...” Zach pushed his way through the gawkers. When he reached the center of the crowd, he found a young man crouching down next to a seated Bridget. Her pink face indicated she was either in pain or embarrassed, possibly both. Thankfully, she was conscious. Talking. Relief washed over him. He touched the man’s arm. “We’re good here. Thank you.” The man stood, nodded and walked away.
Bridget’s eyes brightened with recognition. “I had the right of way in the crosswalk.”
He took her elbow. “Are you okay to stand? Let’s get you out of the street.”
“Yes. Thanks.” He helped her to her feet. Bridget shuddered, as if shaking away the cobwebs. “I know better. I should pay more attention.” She lifted her hand, still clutching her smartphone. The other palm had bits of gravel embedded in it. The crowd had begun to disperse. Apparently, a walking and talking victim didn’t have the rubbernecker appeal of a chalk outline on the pavement. In his rush to check on Bridget, Zach had made a tactical error. Any witnesses to the near miss had been swallowed up in the crowd.
He guided Bridget to the corner restaurant’s outdoor dining area that spilled out over the sidewalk. “Sit.” A waiter came by and set down a glass of water without saying anything. “Are you okay?” Zach asked.
Bridget pulled up her skirt and examined a scrape on her knee. She studied her red palm before looking up sheepishly. “I think I’ll live.” She silently picked the pieces of gravel out of her palm, then gently rubbed her hands together.
“Did you see the car? The person behind the wheel?”
A tiny line furrowed her brow. “No. I heard the loud car, turned my head and barely had time to jump out of the way. I lost my balance and fell.”
“The car didn’t hit you?” Zach asked, doing a quick top-to-bottom assessment of Bridget.
“No. I’m fine. Really.”
“Do you know anyone with a bright blue muscle car? Maybe someone who hangs around the clinic?”
Her brow furrowed. “I don’t even know what a muscle car is.” She shook her head. “I don’t know anyone with a bright blue car, either way.” Her eyes grew wide. “You think that was on purpose?” She scooted to the edge of the seat, making like she was about to stand. “I need to go.”
“Wait. Have a drink of water.”
Bridget took a sip, then set the glass down. “I’m fine. I want to go home.” Worry clouded her pretty brown eyes.
Rubbing the back of his neck, Zach considered how the car had idled on the side of the road before gunning it around the corner. It felt too coincidental. “Are you sure no one besides Ashley knows that you were going to meet with me today? Perhaps someone overheard you two talking at work?”
Bridget lifted her hand to her throat. She’d be clutching pearls if she were wearing them. All the color drained from her face. She lifted the glass to her lips, and a splash of water landed on her lap. “No one knows. We were careful.” The spark of defiance in her eyes lacked conviction.
“Someone could have tracked your computer usage.”
“I was careful.” Bridget slid the glass away from her, and the water sloshed over the sides. She stood, wobbled and grabbed the back of the chair. “No one knows except Ashley.”
Despite her assurances, he wouldn’t leave her safety to chance, even if he was officially on leave. A forced vacation, really. “I’ll drive you home.” Zach scanned the crowd again, grumbling to himself that he hadn’t had a clear view of the license plate.
She pinned him with her gaze. “I’m perfectly fine to walk.”
“Humor me.”
Bridget tilted her head, and a long strand of silky brown hair fell into her eyes. She absentmindedly dragged it out of her face with her pinkie. Her nails were short and unpainted. “Fine, if it will make you feel better.”
He hiked an eyebrow and stifled the grin that was forming on his lips. “It will make me feel better. I’m parked in a nearby lot. You okay to walk?”
“I said I could walk.” A spark of indignation flashed in her eyes. She gathered her long brown hair over one shoulder and raked her fingers through it. A nervous tic. The faint freckles on Bridget’s nose grew more pronounced on her peaked face.
Zach suspected the hard edge to her tone was more from fear than annoyance. Like her, he wanted to b
elieve that some cocky driver had taken a corner too fast with complete disregard for the pedestrians in the crosswalk. His gut told him otherwise. This near miss felt more like a warning.
First Ashley’s a no-show. Now this. His gut was rarely wrong.
TWO
Zach hesitated for a moment with his hand on the gearshift of his pickup truck before he pulled out of the downtown lot. “We need to find Ashley.”
“Now? Do you think she’s in trouble?” Bridget searched his face, his concern mirrored in her eyes.
“I’d feel better if I talked to her.”
Bridget tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “My sister’s in town and staying at my place. She’ll wonder where I am if I don’t get home by a certain time, Agent Bryant.”
“Call me Zach. You okay if I call you Bridget?”
“Yes, sure.” She smoothed out the fabric of her skirt over her thighs. This young woman dressed more conservatively than most women her age. He found it charming.
“I feel like maybe we got off on the wrong foot in the café.”
Bridget shrugged.
“I can come off gruff. I’m used to dealing with...” he tipped his head “...all sorts of people who you probably wouldn’t want to bring home to your parents.” He gave her an apologetic smile, and she rewarded him with one in return. One of her eye teeth was slightly crooked. Again, charming. He shook his head to dismiss the distracting thoughts. Maybe he really did need this leave. He was getting soft. Losing his edge.
“And I’m sorry I snapped when you offered me a ride home.” She balled up her hands in her lap, then straightened her fingers to check out her scuffed palm. “This is so far out of my comfort zone. Dr. Ryan is such a nice guy.” She gently brushed her fingers across her palm. “I can’t imagine why he’d get involved with something like this.” Her lips thinned into a grimace. “Do you think he paid someone to hurt me?”
“My office will look into it.”
Bridget leaned back on the headrest and turned to face him. “Your office? I know you said you were on vacation, but can’t you look into it?” Her soft voice washed over him. He wanted nothing more than to say yes, but it wasn’t his call. He had been told in no uncertain terms that he had to take some time off. He had a strong feeling that he was at a pivotal time in his career, and this leave wasn’t a request.
“I recently came off a rough case.” He cleared his throat, picking his words carefully. “I was asked to take leave.”
“I don’t understand what that means.”
“I guess you could call it standard protocol when things don’t go exactly right on a case.” He wasn’t about to tell her someone died because of his recklessness.
Bridget rolled her head to look out the passenger window. “I’m sorry, I assumed...” She looked back in his direction. “I shouldn’t have done that. Obviously, you met me as a favor to Ashley.” He wondered how much Ashley had told him about their history. About her friendship with his sister. “Now what? You give me the name of someone else in your office?”
“Well, let’s hold off on that. What I’d like to do first is check on Ashley. Can we do that real quick? Then I’ll get you home.” He ran a hand roughly over his jaw. He hadn’t been clean-shaven in months, and he was still getting used to the stubble. “Maybe call your sister. Give her a heads-up that you’re going to be late.”
“I can’t call her. I don’t have her number.” Her monotone made it hard to determine if she was being sarcastic.
Zach made a noise with his lips and pulled out of the city parking lot. “You know where Ashley lives?”
“I don’t know her address.” Her eyes brightened. “But I can show you. I’ve been to her house.” She shifted in her seat. “Turn right here.” Bridget tugged on the strap of her seat belt. “Ashley never told me how she knew you,” she said. “Oh, wait, turn here.”
“Ashley was a friend of my sister’s when they were in high school.” That’s all Bridget needed to know. His little sister’s bright blue eyes flashed in his mind’s eye. He hadn’t seen her beautiful face in over seven years. He had been stationed in the Middle East when he got the call that she was dead.
“Did they have a falling-out? Oh, wait—” Bridget pointed toward the street on the left. “Turn at the stop sign.”
Zach turned, happy to avoid the question. “Is her house on this street?”
“Yes. There.” Bridget pointed to a neat double on the right. It had two entrances.
Zach pulled his truck up alongside the curb. It didn’t appear that anyone had followed them. Four years as a DEA agent did that to a person.
They climbed out of the truck and approached her apartment. “Her unit’s on the left.” Bridget checked her phone again.
“Still no word?”
“No.” Bridget looked up at him with worried eyes. “This is so unlike her. She’s one of those people who responds to texts. Always.”
Zach knocked on the front door. Deep inside somewhere, a dog barked. “She have a dog?”
“The neighbor does.” She pointed to the window next door. A lace curtain danced in time with the frantic jumping of what Zach’s mother used to call a yippy dog. Everything annoyed his mother.
“I’m going to walk around the outside. See if anything looks out of place.”
Bridget crossed her arms and cupped her elbows. For a fraction of a beat, Zach wondered what her story was. All he knew about her was what he’d gotten from Ashley—Bridget was a nursing student working as a nurse’s aide at the clinic. She had a look of innocence about her that made him wonder if she’d get beaten down by the demanding nature of nursing. The job had eaten his weak-willed mother alive and had destroyed their family.
He scrubbed a hand across the back of his neck and turned his attention to a car approaching. Easier to throw himself into work than deal with his own demons. A vehicle that had traveled the salted streets of more than a decade of winters pulled into the driveway.
A female driver on the plus side of sixty took her sweet time and finally emerged with a bundle of Target bags in both hands. “Can I help you?” she asked, curiosity more than wariness rounding her eyes.
“Do you live here?” He pointed to the unit next to Ashley’s.
“Yes. Who wants to know?” She transferred one of the plastic bags to free up a hand.
Zach dug out his credentials and flashed them at her. Most people didn’t check them out; this woman proved the exception and squinted, drawing closer to check out his ID. “DEA? What’s going on?” Her pale eyebrows rose above the thick frames of her glasses.
“I’m looking for your neighbor Ashley Meadows. When was the last time you saw her?”
The woman’s Target high went poof, and her features grew pinched. “Did something happen to her?” She pointed to her excited dog at the window. “Barney was barking at something last night around midnight.”
Next to him Bridget sucked in a breath.
“Did you happen to look outside when your dog was barking last night?” Zach asked, wondering if he’d catch a break.
“Only caught a pair of headlights pulling away.” She adjusted the plastic bags again. “Not sure if that’s what had my Barney all wound up or not. Listen, I need to put these bags down. I’m sorry I don’t have more information for you.” The woman awkwardly fished for something in her purse while juggling the bags. If Zach hadn’t been so anxious to locate Ashley, he would have offered to carry her bags in for her.
“Are you her landlord?” Zach asked. Maybe she’d have keys to the apartment.
“No, someone else owns the house. We both rent.” The woman frowned. “I really need to get these things inside.”
Zach tipped his head. “Please, go. Sorry to keep you. Thanks for your time.”
“Never a dull moment,” the older woman muttered as she stepped up on the stoop and
unlocked her front door.
Zach scanned the street. “Does Ashley have a car?”
“Yes.” Bridget frowned and looked around. “I don’t see it.”
“Well, let me take a walk around the property.” Zach brushed his hand on Bridget’s elbow. “Maybe you should wait in the truck.”
“I’d rather stick with you, if that’s okay.”
“Sure.” Zach’s pulse roared in his ears, his naturally honed radar on alert. Something was definitely off here. “Do me a favor and stick close.”
They circled the garage and crossed the back lawn, a few weeks past due for a cut, unlike the tidy front yard. He stepped up on the concrete back patio, and Bridget followed. Each unit had a single door leading to the patio. A few dirty white plastic chairs were arranged in a circle. Perhaps Ashley had had some friends over. The vertical slats of the blinds covering the neighbor’s back doors moved, revealing a more subdued Barney. Perhaps with his master safely inside, he was more intrigued by the strangers than concerned.
“What are you looking for?” Bridget asked, rolling up on the balls of her feet.
“I want to make sure nothing’s out of order.”
Bridget crossed her arms again and trembled.
Zach reached for the handle on the back door, twisted it and muttered when it popped open. He pivoted and locked gazes with Bridget. “Stay here.” He reached for his gun strapped to his ankle under his jeans. With one hand, he pushed the door open wide, and with the other, he aimed his gun into the heavily shadowed apartment of Ashley Meadows.
* * *
As she stood in Ashley’s backyard, Bridget’s legs wobbled, and the blue sky and green trees went monochromatic. She dragged one of the white plastic chairs closer to the dirty siding and sat down. Her stomach threatened to revolt, and she was grateful she hadn’t drunk that coffee Zach bought her at the café. She closed her eyes and tried to calm herself.