Christmas Vendetta

by Valerie Hansen

  He howled and jumped away.

  Momentum carried Sandy Lynn around in a full circle and brought her back to the starting point while gravity pulled the chair closer and closer to the floor. She staggered, trying to brace herself, and used all her strength to keep it from colliding with Clay’s prone body.

  The masked man and old woman broke away and made for the door. Were they really working together? Was it even possible that someone had found her this quickly after the initial attack at her apartment?

  When the man in black hesitated long enough to give the woman a hand, Sandy Lynn was certain they were a team. A deadly alliance that was bent on harming her.

  Falling to her knees beside Clay, she helped him rise and face the vacant doorway. Their assailants were gone.

  He shook his head to clear it, investigating his jaw with his fingertips before asking, “Was that who I thought it was?”

  “Our little old lady? Yes. But the man in the mask wasn’t Charles.”

  Clay was raking back his hair with his fingers. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive,” Sandy Lynn said, sorry that there was a tinge of disappointment in her voice. “This guy was too big. Too heavy.”

  “He could have put on weight in prison.”

  “Yes, but he couldn’t grow six inches taller. That wasn’t my ex.”

  “Okay.”

  Clay had his phone out and was starting to place a call when an injured security guard lurched through the doorway and pointed a gun at him. “Hands up, mister. And lose the weapon.”

  Seeing him holding his head and sensing how primed the guard was to shoot, Sandy Lynn stepped between him and Clay with both hands raised, palms facing out. “It’s all over, Officer. The bad guys ran off. This man is okay. And that’s not a weapon. It’s just his phone.”

  Although it took the guard longer than she would have liked to accept her statement and lower his aim, she knew the immediate threat had passed. It was a relief to see curious hospital personnel gathering in the hallway. That would help if she needed witnesses.

  Clay remained beside her, hands also up, the cell phone held between thumb and forefinger. “Call the local police if you doubt which side I’m on,” he told the guard.

  The meaningful look Sandy Lynn gave the nervous guard was meant to confirm Clay’s words. Unfortunately, his reaction was not positive. He waved his pistol. “Over there, both of you, while I sort this out.”

  Sandy Lynn led the way, looking up at Clay as she eased into a chair. His left eye was starting to turn purple and there was a deep scowl on his face.

  She was about to commiserate when he leaned closer and asked, “What next, huh?”

  “Hey, don’t look at me. I’m just here because my best friend is in surgery. You didn’t have to come along.”

  “Yes, I did,” Clay replied with a stern look. “And you know it.”

  * * *

  The headache Clay was nursing made him testy. Facing the police, as well as hospital security, and trying to explain what had occurred wasn’t helping, either. What he wanted to do was haul Sandy Lynn off and find a good place to hide her. Someplace safe and secure, yet accessible to him in case she needed more protection. The idea that her nemesis had been her ex had been comforting in that it gave them a specific culprit to pursue—until she’d countered with a different ID. If their problem wasn’t Charles Hood, then who was it? And how was he going to figure out what was really going on without first learning the identity of the second man in a ski mask?

  Time passed as quickly as could be expected, given the circumstances. He kept a close eye on Sandy Lynn during the police questioning, until a couple of his former fellow officers had shown up and started interfering by drawing her away. The only reason he put up with that was for Sandy Lynn’s sake. She needed the entire force on her side if she hoped to survive these repeated attacks. The last thing he wanted was to have guilt by association with him undermine her reputation.

  The arrival of his friend, Sergeant Matthews, sent a wave of relief through Clay. He greeted him surreptitiously in order to keep the other cops from taking special notice. “Abe. Out of uniform? What brings you here?”

  “When I heard the call on my scanner and recognized your new address, I figured this is where you’d probably end up.”

  Clay scowled. “You and I need to have a long, serious talk about my new home. Did you know who lived upstairs when you were pushing me to choose that apartment building?”

  “Me? Naw. Who lives upstairs?”

  The denial might have sounded more genuine if Abe had not been gazing across the room at Sandy Lynn and smiling.

  Clay huffed. “As if you didn’t know.” He shook his head in disgust. “I thought you were my friend.”

  “I am.” Abe’s grin spread and his eyes twinkled, reflecting the Christmas lights strung around the room. “Just trying to help out a buddy.”

  “Yeah? Well stop it, okay? I have enough problems already.”

  “There’s no way anybody’s going to be able to prove you stole drugs from the locked evidence room, because you didn’t do it.”

  “From your lips to the chief’s ears,” Clay said. “You and I both know I’m innocent, but there’s more than one guy at our station who’s sure I’m dirty.” His sober sidelong glance at two other officers in the room pointed them out without naming names.

  “Yeah, I know,” Abe replied. “But they won’t fool the chief. He’s already questioning the evidence they supposedly found in your car.”

  “It was enough to get me suspended. He might as well have fired me at that point, because suspicion was all it took to cost me most of my friends.”

  Abe patted him on the upper arm. “Not me, buddy. I’m on your side all the way.”

  “Just don’t get yourself canned for defending me,” Clay warned. “I need at least one loyal inside man. Which reminds me. Double-check the info you texted me about Charles Hood, will you? If he’s still incarcerated, like they told you the first time you asked, try to make sure there hasn’t been a mix-up.”

  Abe snorted derisively. “Are you kidding me? They’d better know who’s in and who’s missing, or you won’t be the only one looking for a new job.”

  Sobering, Clay nodded. “I’m hoping they’re wrong and Hood put one over on them.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, if he isn’t behind the repeated attacks on Sandy Lynn, she’s got a brand-new enemy and no clue as to who wants to hurt her.”

  “But she’s okay, right?”

  “For now.” Clay raked his fingers through his hair to comb it back. “Unfortunately, her roommate has been insisting that she was knifed by somebody who was after Sandy Lynn and after what just happened here I’m convinced she was right.”

  “What did happen, exactly?”

  “Another attempt to harm her,” Clay said, looking toward the small group across the room and settling his gaze on the pretty teacher. “Any doubts I had that Enid was collateral damage are gone. Sandy Lynn was supposed to be the victim.”

  * * *

  There was no way she was going to acknowledge Clay’s obvious interest or meet his stare. Yes, he had defended her for the third time in one night, but that didn’t give him back his special place in her heart. He’d had his chance years ago and had blown it. She was a different person now. A woman who took care of herself and made her own decisions.

  She approached one of the police officers who had been questioning her. “Excuse me. Are we finished? I’d like to go find out how my friend Enid is doing.”

  “You can go as soon as the techs take your prints and a DNA swab. Just don’t leave town.”

  Because he had given her a snide smile as he issued the warning, Sandy Lynn wasn’t sure he was serious. “Really? Why not?”

  “We’re not through investigating the incident a
t your apartment.”

  He elbowed his partner, a smaller cop who was also looking too smug. “Besides, since you’ve started keeping company with a druggie, you have to expect some suspicion to stick to you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Both men began to grin at her as if she was simpleminded. The second one gestured toward Clay. “He didn’t tell you? He stole a bunch of meth from our evidence room. Maybe other drugs, too.”

  That statement was so ridiculous it arched Sandy’s eyebrows. “Oh, come on. Clay Danforth? No way.”

  The first cop shrugged. “Evidence says otherwise. You’d be smart to ditch him. I would if I was you.”

  “Well, you’re not me,” Sandy Lynn countered. “I practically grew up with that man, and he’s as honest as they come.”

  Rather than add more personal information, she spun on her heel and strode away. In the confines of the crowded waiting room there were few choices of where to stand, so she chose the most distant from the unfriendly officers and joined Clay. A nod was her greeting.

  When the lanky, dark-haired officer with Clay smiled at her she felt a twinge of memory. “Do I know you?”

  Clay looked amused. “You don’t remember Abe?”

  “Abe? Sorry. No.”

  Both men laughed, which made Sandy Lynn curious enough to dive deeper into memories. “Hold on. Your first name is Mike. Mikey! I’m sure it is. You used to visit Clay when he lived next door to my last foster home.”

  “Right. I was a lot shorter then. And pudgy. After I got so tall and thin, folks started comparing me to Abe Lincoln and the nickname stuck.” He rolled his eyes. “Some of my old friends refuse to call me anything else.”

  “That’s mean.”

  “Could be worse. How have you been, Sandy Lynn? I heard you were teaching in the elementary school.”

  “Yes.” How much more he might know bothered her. “Has Clay filled you in on my checkered past?”

  “Only that your ex isn’t somebody you want to see again.”

  “That’s putting it mildly. Is there some way you can check with the prison and make sure he’s still there?”

  “I already have,” Abe told her, sobering, “but I’ll be glad to ask for regular updates. Last I heard, Charles Hood was still in residence.”

  “Did you look at his record?” she asked.

  “Briefly. Clay here filled me in on the important details.”

  “He did?” Her head snapped around. “You did?”

  “I needed to know my enemy, that’s all,” Clay said.

  Sandy Lynn felt her stomach churn and needed every ounce of self-control to lift her chin and insist, “My enemy, you mean.”

  Actual pain followed when she saw Clay cradle the side of his jaw with one hand. “Kinda feels like mine, too.”

  “Well, he isn’t. I appreciate your concern, really I do, but truth be told, my problems are not yours.” Neither am I, she added to herself, ruing the reality of that thought. Embarrassment still lingered when she recalled the way she’d wept and begged Clay to take her away with him when he’d announced that he was joining the air force and leaving Springfield.

  The astonished expression on his youthful face that night was burned into her memory. And now? Sandy Lynn looked at Clay, really looked at him. If she let herself imagine what she saw in his eyes now, she might suspect he actually cared for her. Well, so what? He’d had his chance and had left her in tears.

  She bit her lower lip, remembering the way she’d turned unrequited love into loathing and had convinced herself that the only escape from the foster system, other than waiting to age out, was a quick marriage. At that point, had she been thinking clearly, she knew she wouldn’t have believed the lies of a man like Charles. But she’d been hurting. Wanting to hurt back. And spite had led her to make the biggest mistake of her short life. An error that had ended up costing her the kind of happy future she could now only dream about.

  One thing was certain. She was not going to repeat that terrible choice; nor was she going to let herself fall for another man, especially not Clay Danforth. Even if he had changed his mind about her, which was far from a proven fact, she didn’t intend to let him into her life or into her heart again.

  Charles’s abuse had hurt, yes, but nothing had ever caused the kind of deep, lasting pain that she’d felt watching Clay drive away when she was barely sixteen.

  Nobody had ever loved her enough to stay. Not then and not now.

  FIVE

  “There’s no way you can go back to that apartment,” Clay insisted.

  Abe agreed with a nod. “He’s right.”

  “Fine. Where do you expect me to live? It’s snowing. I can’t very well pitch a tent in the park.”

  Seeing the set of Sandy Lynn’s jaw, Clay shook his head slowly. This woman was not only stubborn beyond reason, she was sadly deluded if she thought she’d be safe anywhere until her enemies were apprehended and charged.

  “When does school start again?”

  “After the first of the year.”

  “That’s no help. You need to be around people, not sitting alone in your apartment.”

  “Do you think I haven’t figured out that we can’t go home? That’s not the problem.”

  “Then what is?”

  “Money. How much do you think teachers earn? Or nurses, although Enid’s in better financial shape than I am. I’m still paying off student loans and she has bills, too. There’s no way we can afford to walk away from our apartment.”

  Abe elbowed Clay. “How long is your old place paid for?”

  “Another couple of weeks, but last I heard it was sealed by the department.”

  “Maybe I can get them to release it, and the ladies can stay there for a short time. It’s worth a shot.”

  “Try if you want,” Clay said, making a face. “I’m not holding my breath.”

  “Whoa. Hold it, guys. I never agreed to moving anywhere,” Sandy Lynn said. “Particularly not into a crime scene.”

  Shaking his head, Clay explained. “My place is clean. There’s nothing there for them to find—unless somebody planted more evidence after I left. I doubt they bothered to access more than my car.” He made a face. “Why do you think I’m riding a motorcycle in the middle of winter?”

  “Ah.” She appeared lost in thought before adding, “I’d wondered who the bike parked next to my car belonged to.”

  “Are you hinting you’d like a ride?” Abe asked, grinning.

  “Uh-uh. No way. Charles and a bunch of his buddies used to ride together and he made me learn, but I’ve never enjoyed it.”

  “Really? Why not?” Clay was curious.

  “Because he used it as another way to make my life miserable, I guess. If he couldn’t scare me one way, he’d terrify me another. The knife is new, though.”

  All Clay could do was shake his head. “You still think it was him at your apartment? Even after Abe checked with the prison?”

  “I can’t help it. That voice made the hair on my neck stand up.”

  “Okay. If you say so.” Clay decided not to argue this time. If she was wrong, no harm done. If Hood was somehow behind the attacks, even if he didn’t carry them out in person, it was just as well that Sandy Lynn stayed on edge. The more aware she was of her surroundings, the better he liked it, particularly because he wasn’t going to be able to defend her 24/7.

  Abe reached over and patted Clay’s shoulder. “Okay. See you later. You won’t care if I run over to the station and use their system to do a little more research, will you? That way I can print out my findings instead of having to read them on my phone.”

  “Fine with me. We’re staying put until Enid gets out of surgery.”

  “And longer if I want to,” Sandy Lynn added as Abe left them. “We came over in my car so I won’t have to le
ave until I’m ready.”

  “You wouldn’t strand me here, would you?” he asked with a lopsided smile.

  The expression on her face would have been laughable if the situation wasn’t so serious. Finally she said, “No. I suppose I can’t do that after you’ve been so helpful.” Her left eyebrow rose up higher than the right. “Just don’t start giving me orders, okay?”

  He didn’t answer right away. This was the second time she’d criticized him for being too bossy, and for the life of him he couldn’t understand where she’d gotten that idea. If anything, he’d cut her slack, particularly when she was a confused, lost, angry foster kid. Coming from a stable home himself, he knew he couldn’t truly identify with her, yet he’d done his best to empathize and support both Sandy Lynn and the others housed next door to his family. His mother had been supportive, of course. It was his father who kept warning him to give the other kids a wide berth, painting them all as unacceptable regardless of where they had come from or their past situations.

  Clay knew his dad had had his best interests at heart when he’d made plans to send him off to college, but at that age Clay had rebelled, joining the air force instead and training to be a security officer, which had led to his career in law enforcement.

  Correction. To his former career. What he was going to do with his life from now on was up to his union rep and attorney. The only plus he could imagine was that his job troubles had temporarily freed him to look after Sandy Lynn without running into a conflict of interest.

  He rubbed his sore jaw. He was going to have to up his game if he intended to properly defend her. That was the easy part. The problem, as he saw it, was convincing her that she needed his help when she’d already informed him otherwise.

  In his mind he heard her scream again. Felt the knot in his stomach again. Wanted to wrap his arms around her for protection. That was the worst thing he could do, he knew, but that didn’t erase the urge to hold her close or the wish that he hadn’t rejected her so effectively years before.

  How did a guy go back? Clay wondered. His gaze met Sandy Lynn’s. There was something special between them. There had to be. That, or his imagination was spinning out of control, which was a distinct possibility.