No Time for Goodbye

by Marion Myles

  No Time for Goodbye

  By Marion Myles

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  Copyright © June 2018 Marion Myles

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or any persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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  Edited by Kathy Case

  Cover by Robin Ludwig Design Inc./ https://www.gobookcoverdesign.com

  Copywriting by Carol Eastman / http://www.blurbbitch.com/

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  Dedication

  To RDM – first reader, biggest supporter, finder of book titles.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Other Books By This Author

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Prologue

  He hadn’t planned to kill her.

  He stared down into her blank eyes, and a thrill tickled his belly when he realized the last thing she’d seen before dying had been him. Only him. For a few glorious moments, he had been the most important person in her life.

  Now she could never leave him. Would never leave him. She belonged to him and he to her. An eternal bond.

  Yes, yes, yes. This was how it was meant to be. If only she’d understood. If only she’d listened. The ugly scene from before was already fading from his mind. He’d come to save her in her hour of need, offering a way out and a path to true happiness. She’d told him no. Told him he was sick and needed help.

  Gently, so gently, he brushed a few strands of hair from her face and traced a fingertip across her cheekbone. Her beauty was breathtaking. Sometimes it hurt just to look at her, but not now. Not when she was finally his.

  He pulled her skirt down and twisted it back into place and straightened her blouse. Where the buttons had been ripped away, he settled the fabric together as best he could. Then he took her hand in his, turned her wrist, bent down, and kissed her palm.

  Struck by a sudden idea, he crawled around the area on his hands and knees searching for the red velvet box. Very little moonlight filtered through the leaves and he was deep enough into the woods that none of the lights from the park reached the clearing. It has to be here, he thought with mounting panic as he moved farther away from where his beloved lay.

  At last his knee struck the small solid object, and he clutched it to his chest for a moment before standing and walking back to the girl. While kneeling down, he flipped open the lid of the box and pulled out the emerald ring.

  “My gift to you, my love,” he said softly. “This time you won’t get angry, will you? You won’t tell me I’m delusional. This time you’ll finally understand we are meant to be together.”

  Lifting her left hand, he slid the jewel onto her ring finger. He’d imagined this moment so many times. Not like this, of course. Yet somehow, even in his darkest hours, he’d absolutely believed she would wear his ring. Be his wife. His heart burst with love. Tears poured down his cheeks.

  “I’m going to take good care of you, my darling,” he murmured.

  He bent at the knees and gathered her up, grunting with the effort, and eventually settled her over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift.

  Slowly, careful not to jostle her, he made his way out of the forest.

  Chapter One

  After twenty-eight years of bouncing from institution to institution and place to place, Mia Reeves had unexpectedly found home.

  She’d moved to the town of Dalton eight months earlier thinking it would be nothing more than another short stop before wanderlust sent her back out on the road again. But she’d settled in so quickly, and with such ease, she could no longer imagine living anywhere else. In fact, before the end of the second month, she’d approached the owner of her rental property and negotiated a deal to buy it outright. It seemed she was finally throwing down roots and couldn’t have been happier about it.

  Now, though, as she drove slowly down Main Street, her stomach clenched to the point of pain. Even though she consciously tried to control her breathing, it came out in short, shallow gasps.

  What she was contemplating was insane. Seriously and utterly insane.

  The best case scenario was ridicule and being forever branded as a crazy woman. Of course, she didn’t actually know very many people. There was Sherri, who occasionally worked for her and had helped man the jewelry booth this past weekend at the annual spring fair. Gabriel owned the local diner, and they sometimes exchanged small talk while she waited for her take-out once or twice a month when she treated herself to a night off from cooking. Plus, there was sweet Mrs. Bird who ran the post office and always asked Mia how she was. Not exactly a bustling group of friends but a girl had to start somewhere, didn’t she?

  To Mia’s mind, it would be bad enough losing even these tenuous relationships, but oh, it could be so much worse. She was potentially opening herself up to charges or fines. If they were really vindictive, the threat of six months in jail.

  Still, she had to do it.

  The police station was only a block away now. It was early enough that hardly any of the stores were open, and the sidewalks had very little foot traffic. Gabe’s Diner was doing their usual brisk business, and she’d seen more than a few heads in the window when she rolled by Bean Time café; otherwise, she was virtually alone.

  Mia’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. It wasn’t too late to turn back.

  She shook her head. No. The decision was already made. For whatever reason, this echo had reached out from the past and chosen her. Now she felt compelled to do what she could for the young woman. A stranger, yes, but also someone through whom she’d experienced first-hand the worst kind of pain and terror.

  Besides, this was her town now and she, Mia Reeves, was a brand new person. The kind of person who walked the straight and narrow, and lived the life of a good upstanding citizen. The girl from the vision may be years dead, but she deserved justice and Mia might be the only person who could get it for her.

  Flicking on her indicator, she made the turn into the parking lot and cruised up to the police station. The front of the building was surprisingly modern wood and glass. Two black and white cruisers sat parked in the first row of spaces, along with three civilian cars. She steered her SUV into the empty slot closest to the front door and turned off the engine.

  Closing her eyes, she took a final, bracing breath. Mia reassured herself that even if she was detained for some time, her dogs would be fine. The doggie door was open, the food bowls full, and plenty of water bowls were scattered about the place. They had a large, fenced yard and enough provisions to see them through several days without her. In case worst came to worst, she’d left
a key hidden beneath the pot of azaleas by the side door. Surely, Sherri wouldn’t mind going over and checking on the pack for her.

  It was still a mystery how she’d ended up with four dogs. She’d never wanted a pet. Well, maybe for about five minutes when she was a little kid, but she’d soon learned they needed a dependable, trustworthy person. Mia surely wasn’t that. At least she hadn’t been.

  But then along came Mac. She’d found him on the side of the road. A tall, skinny Doberman covered in scabs and frightened out of his mind. Somehow she couldn’t say no.

  That had been back in Altoona. By the time she’d hit the highway four months later, hip bones and vertebrae were no longer prominent features along Mac’s back, and his coat was coming in shiny as a seal’s. He loved her with an unconditional and unstinting loyalty that took her breath away. She’d sooner die than be parted from him.

  It was Mac who’d found Layla near their new accommodations in Savannah, Georgia. She was young, barely more than a puppy, and part of a local animal shelter adoption program being staged one weekend in a nearby park. Mac had dragged Mia over to the portable pen and pushed his nose through the gap in the wire to lick Layla’s golden muzzle before swiveling his head up and gazing questioningly at Mia. She cursed under her breath as she looked into those soft brown eyes. Next thing Mia knew, she was signing on the dotted line and bringing the yellow lab mix home with them.

  For the following six months, Mia had settled into being the parent of two large dogs. Where Mac was serious, the self-appointed head of security and always on guard, Layla was really only looking for a good time. She loved to play fetch, pull the rope, and wrestle for hours without tiring. With her, Mac, at first befuddled by the foreign activities, soon started to romp and frolic like a young pup. It brought a lump to Mia’s throat seeing the lanky Doberman letting go and enjoying life to such an extent.

  It seemed they were complete. A family. The first proper one of Mia’s life.

  But then Mac went and did it again. Shortly after they’d moved to Unionville, he disappeared from the back yard. Mia was frantic. In the time since she’d rescued him, the dog had barely ever been more than jumping distance from her, and suddenly he was gone. Over the fence, no less.

  Taking Layla, she walked the streets calling his name for hours on end with a ball of dread in her gut and tears in her eyes. Layla, in her typically happy-go-lucky way, sniffed at the grass, bounced at passers-by, and generally behaved as though she hadn’t a care in the world. When darkness fell, Mia finally turned for home. Refusing to let loose the tears, she swiped angrily at her eyes.

  She’d go out again in a few hours, she told herself. She’d make up flyers and paper the town with his picture. She’d call around to all the vets and animal shelters. He had to be somewhere. This was not how their story would end.

  Turning up the path to her rental unit, Layla tugged on the leash and let out a victorious bark. There, sitting on the dark front porch, was Mac. Sprinting to him, Mia dropped to her knees and threw her arms around his neck.

  “Don’t ever do that again,” she hiccupped while fighting down a sob.

  Lifting her face, she let him lick at a wayward tear. It was only then she felt a small furry body pressed in by her thigh. Looking down, she saw the long nose and floppy ears of a miniature dachshund. He crawled into her lap and with a surprisingly deep sigh, melted against her.

  Once inside the house, Mia found a name tag, Tucker, and a phone number on the frayed nylon collar. The owner lived several miles away on the other side of town and hadn’t even noticed he was missing. Fighting off Mac’s bitter recriminations, she drove the little dog home and placed him in the hands of an unpleasant middle-aged woman whose four rambunctious boys apparently laid waste to the house behind her.

  “Shut the hell up,” the woman bellowed over her shoulder while the dachshund trembled and looked beseechingly up at Mia. “Danny, if I go in there and find you flicking lit matches at your brothers, you’re dead meat. I mean it. Colt, get out here. Your stupid rat dog ran away again. I told you he can’t be left loose in the yard. Put him on the chain next time.”

  She practically threw the dog at a boy of about ten and slammed the door in Mia’s face without so much as a thank you or a goodbye. You’re welcome, Mia mumbled under her breath while trudging back to the car and wondering if she’d just made a colossal mistake. What kind of life did that poor little dog have in that Godforsaken house?

  Two days later, Mac went on another rescue mission, bringing the tiny sausage dog home in the late afternoon. This time when Mia phoned, she asked the woman point blank if she wanted Tucker back.

  “Hell, no,” she answered. “I never wanted that thing in the first place. Colt’s bastard of a father got him without asking me. Can’t manage to pay child support most months, but somehow comes up with the fifteen hundred to buy the yappy little dirtbag. I looked it up online. That’s how much they cost. I hate dogs. Nothing but trouble. You keep him. I doubt the kids will even notice he’s gone.” She slammed the phone down, and that was that.

  When Layla and Tucker paired up like long-lost soulmates, Mia was initially concerned for Mac, hating for him to feel left out. But Mac, far from being hurt, seemed to find the situation very much to his liking. He now had a small pack to rule and keep safe and was content in his role as guardian of the dogs. He played with them from time to time. Mostly, though, he stayed glued to Mia’s side during the long hours she crafted her crystal jewelry.

  It wasn’t until a year later, when Mia and the pack were moving to Dalton, that Mac brought another dog into the fold. It happened at a truck stop on I75 about fifty miles outside Knoxville. Mia was fueling up, and the dogs, anxious to stretch their legs, leapt about inside the Ford Escape. All of a sudden, Mac stood stock still staring out the driver’s side window past Mia. She thought maybe he’d seen a man with a mustache. The reminder of his former abusive owner always sent poor Mac into a tailspin. Mia mentally geared up to soothe the big guy.

  But there was no man. No mustache. What she saw was a tiny Pomeranian tied to the edge of the gas station booth with what appeared to be bungee cords.

  “No, Mac,” she sighed. “No more dogs.”

  The animal probably belonged to the attendant anyway. And so what if the dog’s fur was dingy gray and matted into dreadlocks in places. She couldn’t save every damned animal on the planet.

  She purposely kept her eyes adverted when she got back in the truck and parked on the opposite side of the large parking area before allowing the dogs to jump out for a quick walk. But Mac was apparently part mule, for no sooner had his feet hit the asphalt than he was dragging Mia and the other two dogs straight back to the gas pumps.

  Layla and Tucker soon got in on the act, and even though Mia strained against them with all her might, there was nothing she could do but half run along behind while they towed her straight over to the tiny dog. In an uncharacteristic display of submission that had Mia’s mouth gaping open, Mac dropped to the ground. Head bowed, he bellied over to the sad little creature. He sniffed her delicately then licked her all over while she squirmed with delight.

  The bored teenage girl behind the counter managed to look up from her iPhone long enough to tell Mia the dog had been abandoned four days ago. Someone was supposed to have called animal services, but so far no one had come along to take her away. There was no collar. No name tag. No way to know where she’d come from.

  During the exchange with the attendant, Mac hadn’t left the Pom’s side. Mia came out, letting the door slam shut behind her and rubbed a weary hand across her face. It was obvious she had to take her. What else could she do? Unclamping the bungee from around the fragile little neck, she scooped up the almost weightless dog and stomped back to her vehicle while the rest of her pack followed along as docile as lambs.

  In the end, it had been no trouble. Little No Name had slurped up a huge amount of water, enough to make her tummy swell like a balloon, before collapsing ont
o the back seat and closing her eyes. She didn’t move until Mia pulled into a Motel 6 later that night. Even then, she sat quietly waiting to be told what to do as if fearing any wrong move could see her abandoned again.

  Mia shut herself in the bathroom with the newest addition, and taking a pair of scissors, she ruthlessly hacked away all the dirty, tangled hair. A shampoo and conditioning treatment later, the dog was closer to snowy white. Although the haircut was hardly flattering, her little coal black eyes seemed to shine with relief. She licked Mia’s hand once as if in thanks then sat quietly awaiting her fate.

  “Okay, I guess you’re going to need a name,” Mia said. “Got any ideas?”

  Fifi came to mind, clear as a bell, and so it was she opened the door to the bedroom and introduced the rest of her family to the new version of Fifi the Pomeranian. Mac was immediately and absolutely smitten. From that moment on, the huge lanky Doberman and the seven-pound snowflake dog were inseparable. It was stupid to feel jealous, but when Mia was especially tired or beaten down, she sometimes did anyway.

  Once they’d settled in at home, Mia had taken Mac outside, leaving Fifi and the others behind. In the woods at the back of her property, she sat on a stump and waited until Mac stopped sniffing something fascinating on the ground and came to sit beside her. Then, in no uncertain terms, she laid down the law. No more dogs. Four was beyond too many. He stared at her, eyes intent on her face and brought his nose down as if in a slow nod of assent. She could only trust he understood how serious she was, but part of her still worried.

  * * *

  That meeting of the minds had been eight months ago. So far so good. Mia wished the four of them could be with her right now. She always felt stronger when surrounded by her pack.

  Okay, no more stalling. She could and would do this.