Seeking Refuge

by Alana Terry

  He chuckled. “Not a lot of money in restoring old cars, except for a few people. And you can bang your knuckles up pretty good.” He reached over for her hand and took it in his. “I like details and putting projects together, seeing possibilities that others can’t see. I was majoring in business when I did an internship with a friend of my dad’s who was a real estate attorney. I seemed to have a knack for the project development side of it, and he offered me a job after school.

  “I think the car thing started out as being more about finding a way to be with my dad and make him proud. Big brother Daniel was always the star of the show. So any time I could get out from under his shadow, I did.”

  She squeezed his hand and smiled. “More and more I’m seeing the advantages of being an only child.”

  “Daniel and I are closer now, but back in high school when I was a freshman and he was a senior, he was great at sports and I was better at academics. I had this huge display I had created for the science fair all about the combustion engine. It was a large part of my grade, and I was proud of it. I was taking it to the car so I could set it up at school. Daniel and a couple of his friends were goofing around, playing football in the front yard.”

  She knew where this was going. Dread and sympathy filled her chest.

  “Yep. A football right through my display. Completely ruined. Not enough time to fix it, and I ended up with a C. Daniel didn’t get in trouble. Dad actually blamed me, said I should have known better than to carry it out when Daniel and his friends were out there.”

  So she wasn’t the only one whose parents couldn’t see what their kids were going through. “That was really rotten.”

  He nodded. “I guess that’s why I’m obsessed with every detail now. Making sure nothing can go wrong.” He patted the Charger’s dash. “This baby proved that I did have good judgment and could see how to make something out of nothing. But it’s only a hobby. This land development project I’m putting together . . . that’s the real deal.”

  “I don’t doubt it. Sounds like we’ve both received a lot of grief for seeing something where most people see nothing.”

  His thumb traced over her hand. “And hopefully we have more positive things in common too. But speaking of making something out of nothing, I was thinking I could help you repair that dining room floor. I’ve seen some pretty gross things in cars, so I think I could handle your root cellar. You could do the work up top.”

  Warmth flooded her chest. It was rare for anyone to offer help. Usually she had to beg and bribe. Most people didn’t want to get sucked into what they thought of as her money pit. So she only asked for help as a last resort. “Are you sure? Because that would be great.”

  “Of course. I love seeing something change with a little bit of work. Hard to see tangible results like that in my job. Or they are a long time coming.”

  She nodded. He understood her heart in a way no one since Grandma had. She blinked back tears. “Name your dessert, and I’ll make it for you.”

  “Ooh, bribe me with food, and I’ll do anything.”

  Swallowing, she gave him a soft smile. Her instincts were right. All those weeks ago when they had spent several Christmas-time services talking, all she could think was how great he seemed and how much she wanted him to ask her out. And then nothing had happened. Until now.

  They pulled up in front of her house. Cam must have sensed the car stopping, since he stood on her lap and shook himself, yawning. She wrapped his leash around her hand and stepped out.

  “Wait.” Grayson’s hand held her back. “What happened to your front porch?”

  Cam hopped out of the car and strained at the end of his leash, sniffing everything in reach.

  “What?” She peered around Grayson. Her porch steps no longer existed. They had been in bad shape, but they shouldn’t have just collapsed. And her planting beds were all torn up. The wooden screen door flopped on one hinge. What had happened? It didn’t make any sense.

  Her legs turned to water. He had found her. The vandal. He had figured out where she lived and come after her. She collapsed on the car seat. What else had he done?

  “Stay here. I’m going to check things out. Hand me your keys. Then we should call the cops. Do you have that detective’s card with you?”

  She handed over her keys, nodding then shook her head. “No. I’m not sure. I think it’s on my desk inside. Or at work. I can’t remember.”

  “I’ll be right back.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Get your phone out.”

  Fumbling through her purse was difficult with Cam pulling on the leash and jerking her hand around. She snagged her phone and set it in her lap. Where had she had that card last? At work. She scrolled through her recent call list, looking for one that might be his. Yep, she looked at the date and time. This was it.

  Grayson came out through the front door, using his shirt to hold the knob, gingerly pushing the broken screen door aside. “He’s not here, and he didn’t get inside the house. Do you have the detective’s number?”

  “Yes, in my call log.”

  He took the phone from her, and she heard him explain to the detective what he’d found. Vandalism, he said. Some paint on the side of her house.

  What? She looked up at Grayson, but he merely slipped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, still listening to the detective. She could hear bits and pieces of the detective’s words, and it sounded like he said something about Mario and the farm. She bounced her leg, wishing Grayson would hurry up and end the call.

  Finally, he handed the phone back to her. “He’ll be here soon, and he’s sending some officers over. Let me show you what I found.” He took Cam’s leash from her, and slid his arm around her waist.

  She got a better look at the damage to her lovely camellias. All the verbena had been dug up. It might replant okay. But the poppies were gone. Why do this in broad daylight? Wouldn’t he be concerned a neighbor would think this destruction was odd?

  Her steps had been destroyed with a saw; she could see the clean cut. Her mind flashed to someone who might not look out of place cutting up things in her yard. A construction worker. A shudder ran through her. “Grayson! This morning there was a white construction truck parked across the street. He had been watching me, waiting for me to leave.”

  He pulled her closer. “That would explain a few things.”

  They rounded the house to the side yard. GET OUT! in blood-red dripping paint covered nearly all of the two-story siding.

  She clamped a hand over her mouth, afraid she was going to be sick.

  AS DETECTIVE TAYLOR toured the damage, Grayson kept clenching and unclenching his fists. His mind was already tallying up the damage and developing a plan for fixing things.

  “Maybe we could go inside to talk.” Detective Taylor motioned to the house.

  Cait nodded, leading the way through the garden and up the back steps. At least her garden had been spared.

  At the end of the leash Grayson still held, Cam sniffed then bounded up the steps inside.

  “Water? Iced tea?” She stood in front of the refrigerator, looking at him and the detective in turn.

  “No, thanks.” Taylor settled on the barstool at the kitchen counter and opened his notebook.

  She motioned to Cam. “You can let him explore. I don’t think there’s anything he can hurt.”

  Grayson unclasped the leash and the little dog took off, following his nose around the baseboards and into the dining room.

  Taylor waited for Cait to sit. “The same thing happened to your farm manager, Mario, while he and his family were at church. Then, it looks like whoever did this headed over to the farm after the store had closed. He must have been watching the guards or was lucky that he was able to do his damage there during a time when they couldn’t see him. We did get him on the security cameras, but he’s wearing a baseball cap and kept his face turned where we couldn’t see him. But based on his build, he looks an awful lot like the guy you got a picture of bre
aking open the irrigation valves.”

  “Did he do that again? What kind of damage was there to the farm?” Cait gripped her hands together. Grayson slid his over hers and gently squeezed.

  Taylor shook his head. “Not as much as last time. Just the same spray-painted message. Any idea why his message was ‘get out’?”

  She slowly shook her head. “No. Get out of what? It doesn’t make any sense to me at all. Does it line up with any of the email threats the Samashimas had received?”

  “Possibly. Like this message, they were vaguely threatening.”

  “Kinda sounds like ecoterrorism.” Grayson shifted on his barstool. “On a very mild scale. We get that sometimes when people don’t want areas developed, thinking some sort of wildlife might be threatened by a project. Or they just don’t want any development at all. Do you think they want to drive the farm out of business?”

  “It’s hard to say. You’d think whoever is doing this would be more explicit in their demands.” Taylor put his notebook away and slid off the stool. “We got a shoe print in your side yard garden. I’ll see if we can step up patrols in this area and by Mario’s house and the farm.”

  Cait let out a breath. “I can see why I might be hit. The guy that trashed my car could have gotten my license plate number and figured out where I live. I was afraid that would happen. But why Mario? How would anyone know that he had anything to do with the farm?”

  “That’s a good question.” The detective headed for the back door. “If you think of anything, call me. I’ll let you know as soon as I know anything.”

  Grayson shook hands with him. “Hey, you know Bernie Sanchez, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, we’re in a Bible study together.”

  “I know him from choir at church.”

  Taylor’s eyes lit up. “That’s why you both seem so familiar. I’ve seen you sing at church.”

  “Come back by the green room and say hi sometime. A bunch of us often grab lunch after the last service.”

  “I’ll have to do that.” Taylor pushed opened the door and left.

  Grayson turned to see Cait with her head in her hands. He rubbed her back. “Let me get us some of that iced tea. Don’t worry; I’ve got a plan.”

  She nodded but didn’t lift her head.

  He poured them glasses of iced tea thinking of what he could do to make her feel better. Not much, probably. But there had to be something. He slid the glass in front of her.

  She raised her head and smiled. “Thanks.” Big sigh. “I had hoped I had escaped this guy, that the first incident was just a random act. But now he’s found me and done even more damage. I don’t know what to do next.”

  “All you have to do tonight is figure out what will make you feel safe enough to sleep.” He rubbed her arm. “I’ll leave Cam with you.” He grinned. “At least you’ll know if anyone is coming.”

  She gave him a soft smile. “That’s sweet. I think I would feel better with the little guy around. I wonder where he is.”

  “Sniffing out every creature that’s ever been in this house. Probably wearing out his nose.”

  Her smile widened, exactly the effect he was hoping for.

  He tugged on her hand. “Why don’t we take our drinks outside and you can show me the best place to watch the sunset?”

  “Good idea.”

  He grabbed their glasses, and she led him to the bench at the back of her garden. “This is one of my favorite spots. Secluded from the neighbors, but if you lean forward a bit, you can see the sky change colors.”

  They settled in and he draped his arm across her shoulder. The silence between them settled comfortably as she relaxed against his shoulder.

  “It’s going to be okay, you know.”

  Her head moved against him. “I know. It’s just so much right now. I had plenty to do before having to fix stuff that was already fixed. On top of that, if the farm loses income, I lose income. I was hoping to get a few more restaurants on board with the farm-to-table so I could fix the house’s electrical. Until that’s done, I can’t move forward on any other big projects.”

  His heart pounded in his chest. Could she hear it? “Cait.”

  When he didn’t say anything else, she turned to look at him.

  He took her face in his hands. “You’re not in this alone. I’ll help you. I’m not going to leave you until you tell me to.” His thumb moved over her soft cheek.

  Her lips parted, and her eyes softened.

  Lowering his head, he touched his lips to hers. They were as soft and sweet as he had imagined. Every bit of tenderness in his heart longed to be expressed. He pulled her a little closer before releasing her.

  Her eyes slowly opened. A soft smile crossed her face.

  Now, that kiss was a surprise he enjoyed as much as she did.

  Chapter 7

  CAIT tossed the Jitter Bug cup in her office trash and tried to concentrate on her computer screen. She wasn’t having any luck. Just like she didn’t have any luck last night falling asleep. With the memories of Grayson’s kiss and the vandalism of her house chasing each other through her head, it was early hours in the morning before her exhausted brain gave up and went to sleep.

  The good news was she had gotten her car back today. Alani had helped her pick it up and return the rental. Being out and about had helped wake her up a bit.

  Maybe she needed another coffee. She wandered out to the break room and grabbed a cup. Not as good as Jitter Bug’s, but decent.

  Of course, her thoughts weren’t the only things keeping her up. The once-comforting creaks of her house now made her wonder if the vandal was back. Plus, her new little roommate wasn’t too happy with being confined to his crate. Grayson had brought it over with Cam’s food, dishes, and favorite toy. He howled and whined until she relented and set him free. He hopped up the stairs behind her. She had put down an old blanket for him with one of his toys on the floor next to her bed, but as soon as she was in bed, he leaped up to join her, claiming the extra pillow. She was too tired to make him get down. Plus, knowing he would serve as an early warning system allowed her to finally close her eyes.

  How was little Cam doing without her today? She had put him back in his crate with his toy. Maybe if she weren’t around, he’d settle down. She’d check on him at lunch.

  Coffee refilled, she made her way back to her office, steps slow, as if she might have some great revelation on the way.

  Arms outstretched, Rachel stopped her. “This is for you. A reporter from the South County News wants a comment on the vandalism.”

  Cait took the paper and blew out a breath. Great, that was all she needed. More publicity. Website views had been up since the first incidence of vandalism. Traffic was up a bit at the farm store. But customers and vendors had both been calling, skittish about what the farm’s troubles could mean for them.

  “Thanks, Rachel. I’ll handle it.” Once in her office, Cait plopped in her chair. She’d much rather be thinking about Grayson’s kiss—and when it might happen again—instead of dealing with this mess that she couldn’t wrap her mind around.

  One piece that didn’t make sense was Mario. Why him? She clicked on the farm’s website and went to the About Us page. There was a small bio on each of their full-time employees that emphasized the family nature of the farm. Mario was there with a photo, but no last name or indication of where he lived.

  She glanced at the message slip with the reporter’s name on it. With all the inquiries, she should at least check the farm’s website to make sure all was up to date. Clicking on the Media tab, she scrolled through their media kit and the latest, positive articles about the farm.

  She stopped scrolling.

  There. The same reporter, Monica West, who wanted a call back, had done an article on the farm a year ago. Cait thought her name had sounded familiar. But it was a Features section piece, interviewing the Samashimas and talking about the farm’s history and its family tradition.

  Her eyes skimmed the art
icle. If she remembered correctly . . . Yep, there it was. A couple of paragraphs on her and Mario and their hobbies outside of work. It talked about Cait’s restoration of her farmhouse and Mario’s love of cooking.

  And then this comment by Alani: “We couldn’t run this place a day without them.”

  Cait’s stomach grew as heavy as her favorite cast-iron skillet. Was this why they had been targeted? Another attempt to take the farm down? Did someone take Alani’s words literally, assuming the farm would stop operation if Cait and Mario left?

  She reached for her cell phone then stopped. Was it too ridiculous of an idea to run by Detective Taylor? On the face of it, did it sound egotistical, like she was so important that if she ran scared the farm would collapse? That was ridiculous.

  Wasn’t it?

  She reached for her phone again, finger hovering over Grayson’s number: the other subject she had tossed around in her head last night. Not only his kiss, but the fact that he wanted to help. He didn’t have to, but he made it clear he was sticking around. Hope floated in her chest like a soap bubble, and it felt as fragile.

  Could she trust him with her latest idea on the vandalism? Would he think she was ridiculous?

  Only one way to find out. She swallowed and touched his number before she lost her nerve.

  FOR A MONDAY, IT WAS pretty great. Grayson had already fielded a call from Tony DiMarco. He was interested and wanted to talk about the project over lunch.

  And of course, the kiss he’d shared with Cait hadn’t been far from his thoughts. She was special, and he wanted her to be a part of his life. He just wished he could guarantee he could keep her safe, a thought he knew was ridiculous the moment it entered his brain. Still, he wanted the vandal caught so he and Cait could put her house back in order and move forward with their lives without worrying about this guy.

  His phone buzzed and Cait’s number appeared. This was definitely a great Monday.

  “I hope I’m not disturbing you. I came up with an idea about the vandal. I have to let Cam out at lunch, so I wondered if you had time to grab something to eat and I could run my idea by you.” Her voice held a thread of nervousness. What had happened now?