Expired Refuge

by Lisa Phillips

  “How long have you lived here?”

  “Six years. When the economy took a dive, the units were going for nearly nothing and they never really recovered. I had a down payment saved up. Never thought I could get in here. There’s a running path, a gym, and a pool. Instead of not being able to afford it, the down payment ended up going further than I thought.”

  She looked around, not recognizing anything from his parent’s house. Didn’t everyone have at least one piece of furniture that was hand-me-down from their parents? “It’s really nice. Like a model home, but you’ve made it yours.”

  He gave her a small smile, then turned away. While he was at the cupboard pulling down a collection of spices and herbs, she said, “So…what’s with Wilcox’s living situation?”

  He turned around. A flash of hurt on his face disappeared almost as fast as she’d seen it. Was he worried she would rather be there?

  He said, “It’s like a boarding house,” and shook salt on the chicken. “Small one-bedrooms, and a shared dining hall.”

  “Huh.”

  “It’s over on Lomax by the elementary school, you know?”

  She shrugged, given the general area he’d described.

  “The chief said it started as a shelter for women and children who needed a safe place to be. Now they accept applications on a case-by-case basis.”

  “And Wilcox?”

  “She was a detective before she came here. I don’t know much about her. Other than that she had a Louisiana assistant district attorney vouch for her.” While he spoke, he shook spices and herbs over the chicken, flipped both, and then did the same to the other side. “She needed a place to live, and that’s where she chose.”

  She chopped a head of lettuce. “You aren’t worried about people getting the wrong idea about this when it gets around that I stayed the night?” She knew what this town was like.

  He set the jar of smoked paprika down. “You’d rather be at your house? Or at the bed and breakfast where you put all the other residents—and the owners—in danger along with you?”

  “I didn’t say it was going to be a logical argument. Besides, what people believe about others and the world is rarely logical.” Usually it was clouded by their own issues and experiences, which could be good or bad.

  “My car will be here all night. As will you. I can head to the office, watch over the chief, and give whoever is on rotation the night off.”

  She got the feeling he’d done it before. Maybe even often. She didn’t want to soften toward him, so she concentrated on chopping the vegetables for the salad. He’d also given her cracked pepper and an unlabeled jar that looked like balsamic dressing.

  A patio door slid open. She glanced over and saw him step outside. She hadn’t even realized there was a back deck.

  When she’d assembled the salad, Mia filled two glasses with water. Thick blue glass with swirls in it. She’d have called them “handsome” like the rest of his decorations. His couch invited you to sink down and probably wind up taking a nap. It looked that comfortable.

  She found stoneware plates and had located the silverware in a drawer when he came back in.

  “Ready?”

  “Yep.” She glanced over. The smell reached her before he did. “Grilled chicken?”

  “It’s one of my specialties.” He forked it onto two plates, and Mia dished up the salad. “Every time I go to Cassie’s house, she and Jack rope me into manning the grill.”

  They settled at the dining table. “Your sister is married?”

  “She met Jack in college. They have two kids now. Brendan is six, and Leora is four.” His eyes flashed, and she knew he loved them. “They’re so busy, and loud, but I love it.”

  “And you…you said you never married?”

  He shook his head. “Never even came close.”

  “Oh.”

  He gave her a look that held the same question.

  Her mind blanked. She didn’t want to go there, so she changed the subject. “I would’ve thought you’d have just taken over your parent’s house when they moved out of town.”

  Instead, he was in a gorgeous townhouse that made her apartment look like a…she didn’t want to know what. That would hit too close to home.

  She lifted her water glass to her lips.

  He shook his head. “It blew up.”

  Mia choked. He started to get up, but she held up a hand and coughed. “I’m okay.” When she’d composed herself, she said, “It really blew up?”

  “Gas leak.” He grinned. “Mom was devastated over all that hideous art she’d collected and all those angel curios. Completely destroyed. Dad thought it was the best thing that ever happened to him. She heard and accused him of purposely blowing up all her “collector’s items.” They worked it out. Now they have a condo in Scottsdale and a motorhome they illegally park at the lake every summer for four months.”

  Mia laughed. “I’ll bet the grandkids love that.”

  “Yep.” He chuckled. “They’re living the dream.”

  Seemed like he thought that was a pretty good dream, too. Maybe even one he wanted for himself, where he was married with two kids. She looked around. If Mara was alive, would she be sitting here across from him instead?

  Would they be married, two kids? Busy, and loud. A life that was like a dream it was so good. Full of life, and love.

  Mia picked up her plate and headed to the kitchen. Alone.

  Like the rest of her life, it was nothing resembling that good kind of dream.

  Thirteen

  Conroy saw her shut down. He didn’t know why—if it was something he’d said or done. He carried his plate to the kitchen and placed it in the sink. She finished rinsing her own, then did his. He loaded them in his dishwasher.

  She didn’t even look at him.

  “Dinner wasn’t good?”

  She shot him a look mid-eye roll. “That chicken was amazing and you know it.”

  He grinned. “Thanks.”

  “And the company, too, for the record.” She dried her hands on the dish towel his sister had hung on the front of his oven.

  “Thanks.” He leaned a hip against the counter. “I know things aren’t all the way smoothed out between us, but I can honestly say I’d like them to be.”

  He knew she essentially blamed him for her sister’s death, but he was tired of stepping around it. Conroy decided to lay it all out there. “I know it will take time. I’m actually hoping that while I keep you safe, you’ll finally realize you can trust me.”

  He wanted to say he was the same guy she’d known years ago. Maybe that wasn’t such a good thing. Before Mara’s death, she’d hung with them some. More than just an irritating little sister of his girlfriend. He’d thought Mia was interesting, even if the junior high crush she had on him was obvious.

  She’d never been that hilarious, no-worries kid who joked around. None of the Tathers sisters were. Mia had been thoughtful and intelligent. She’d also been driven enough to know she needed good grades in order to get a decent ticket out of Last Chance County.

  Go where she wanted.

  Make something of herself.

  “Do you like Seattle?”

  Mia’s lips shifted. Telling enough in itself. It took her a minute to answer. “I like my job, for the most part. I like my apartment. For the most part.”

  He knew they were going back over ground they’d covered already. But he was trying to get to the bottom of why it seemed like she wasn’t proud of all she’d accomplished. “What about being back in Last Chance County?”

  “Not as…bad as I’d thought.”

  He smiled. “You were determined to have an awful time?”

  The edge of a return smile curled up her lips. “I was in pain, and I couldn’t distract myself with work.”

  “That would frustrate anyone.” It would definitely frustrate him.

  She said, “It’s been…interesting.”

  He had to chuckle.

  “Not jus
t your car, and the dog bite.” She winced. “It hasn’t been bad, exactly, seeing you and getting to know Savannah. I’d planned on staying under the radar to avoid talking to anyone. Mostly because I was in too much discomfort to be human instead of a jerk.”

  “How did you get hurt?”

  “We served an arrest warrant. The guy got out, and the K-9 that’s attached to our team went after him. I went after the dog. The guy got bitten.” She swallowed. “So he stabbed the dog.”

  Conroy started to speak.

  Mia lifted both hands. “She had surgery, and she’s recovering. But I don’t think she’ll be a cop dog anymore.”

  “And you?”

  “The dog’s blood was everywhere. I had a guy with a knife, and he was going to stab her again. I tried to shoot him in the leg, but I missed. He dropped the knife and launched at me. The dog was between us. We landed with me on the bottom, my shoulder hitting a rock on the way down.” She winced. “In the end there was nothing else I could do. He was choking me. I still had my gun. I got the dog out of the way and fired up into his stomach. There was no room to do anything else.”

  “You don’t have to convince me. Your life was in jeopardy, and the guy presented a serious threat to others, as well as you.”

  She nodded.

  He moved half a step closer. “I’m sorry you got hurt.”

  “Because you’re hardwired to protect people.” She was certain of that, he could see it on her face. But it was edged with the grief she still felt, over the loss of her sister so many years ago, and the fact she’d taken a life.

  “I did everything I could to try and save Mara. In the end…” He shook his head. “I’ll regret that for the rest of my life.”

  Her father had forgiven him. They were even friends now.

  She turned away, half a turn, and said nothing. He’d known it wouldn’t be that easy. He couldn’t simply state his peace and be instantly absolved of the guilt she’d piled on him since the night Mara’s heart stopped beating.

  Earning her forgiveness wasn’t what his focus needed to be right now, anyway.

  “You think this is about retaliation for that incident?”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “I still don’t know if the guy had family or friends who might feel strongly enough about his death to come after me.”

  “If you give me his name I can have an officer look into it. But I should be getting that information from your boss.”

  “Good luck with that.” She looked at the screen of her phone. “No one has called me back. Or even emailed. Maybe my boss saw my call and ignored it because I’m supposed to be on vacation, not asking about cases.”

  “And when he knows you’re in danger?”

  She just shrugged again. He could tell now that she’d injured the other shoulder, though she wasn’t obvious about it. Still private. Independent. Intelligent.

  She was the kind of woman who would stand by a man’s side. Fight with him instead of making him fight on her behalf while she did nothing. Or complain when he did what he had to do.

  With a team member who didn’t know how to switch off, he could see ignoring a single call. But only because repeated calls, with no message or little time in between, meant there was something wrong and Conroy should pick up.

  All that could be solved by simply reading an email.

  Conroy didn’t think much of her boss now, even though he knew it wasn’t her intention to give him that impression. “I thought agents were supposed to step up when their colleagues were in danger.”

  She said nothing.

  “You don’t need them to keep you safe.” He moved in front of her. “I have a whole department. We can find out who is doing this and make sure you’re protected.”

  “Just make sure no one else gets hurt.”

  He nodded as he edged closer. “I have a vested interest in keeping you from harm.”

  “Because of Mara?”

  “That’s part of it.” It was also because of his respect for her dad. If she didn’t know he was attracted to her, she would in a second.

  Conroy touched her hand. He threaded his strong fingers through her slender ones and watched her eyes widen.

  He shifted closer. Forced himself to go slow. “I’m also going to make sure you’re safe because it’s you. Just because it’s you, Mia.”

  Conroy leaned in, planning to press a quick kiss to her lips. A light touch. No demands. No expectations. He couldn’t say he would brush her off if she responded, turning it into something more. But he had no intention of giving her more to stress over than she already had working behind those knowing eyes.

  His phone buzzed across the kitchen counter.

  Conroy tucked his chin and saw her smile as she turned away.

  “You should get that.” She looked amused. Or maybe even pleased with herself.

  He’d shown her his cards, and she had the upper hand now. She knew it. The balance had been tipped in her favor.

  His secret was out. He was attracted to her.

  Conroy gave her hand a squeeze and went to get his phone. “Barnes.” He kept his back to her, knowing she probably needed a minute to herself in order to process the shift he’d just orchestrated. It wasn’t a ruse. He wanted her to know his intentions were more than just to do his job. Conroy hadn’t met anyone like Mia in…years.

  Wilcox didn’t sound happy. “We didn’t get much from the body, but we’ve confirmed for sure that it is Tyler Lane, the guy who works for Summers. How is Mia? She okay?”

  He turned then, his gaze locking with hers. “She will be.”

  “Can you look at something for me?”

  “Sure.” He trailed down the hall and unlocked his office. The keypad was because of his niece and nephew. Precocious kids didn’t mix with computers, surplus SWAT gear, and his gun safes—even if the dangerous stuff was locked away.

  He left the door open and pulled up his chair to the desk. “What is it?”

  While his computer woke, she said, “Some guy named Alvarez called back. He passed Kaylee the information he got from somebody named Allyson…” Her voice trailed off.

  “Yep. What is it?”

  “A name. And the name of a brother. The guy—Alvarez—also wanted to know if you need help. Apparently, Kaylee said she was sure you’d ask for it if you did.”

  Conroy chuckled. “Good.”

  He wouldn’t be asking. Alvarez and his wife, Allyson, were both former federal agents. He was a sheriff now and she worked at a bookstore/coffee shop. Not that they wouldn’t be useful, but he had a whole department of capable people he worked with every day instead of bringing in a ringer.

  She gave him the name, Thompson Stiles. “The brother’s name is Anthony Stiles. Seems like he’s been all over social media, posting about the female ATF agent who murdered his brother.”

  Conroy said, “It was justified.”

  He heard an intake of breath behind him and twisted in his seat to see Mia in the doorway. He waved her to sit in the armchair he’d dragged in here when he got the new couch set.

  She curled into it, pulled her knees up, and tucked her feet onto the seat. Her face was pale. She looked like it was time to take a nap, which meant he should head to the police station.

  He typed the name into his system. “Armed robbery. Resisting arrest. Possession of a weapon and drugs.”

  “And that’s just the brother,” Wilcox said. “The one Mia didn’t take out is evidently ten times worse.”

  Conroy read down Thompson Stiles’ rap sheet and blew out a breath. Then he went to the brother, Anthony. The one that was here. Coming after Mia.

  It was Savannah who said, “Animal cruelty charges that occurred when he was eighteen, finally tried as an adult. Before that there’s a hefty, but sealed, juvenile file. Post-eighteen, two counts of attempted rape. He beat one of them into a coma. Criminal stalking. Harassment that put one of his victims in the psych ward.”

  Conroy blew out a long breath. He’d lef
t her alone at her dad’s house to rest, not knowing any of this.

  He squeezed the bridge of his nose.

  “There’s more.”

  “What?” His voice was thick. Conroy didn’t look at Mia, even though he could see her attention on him out the corner of his eye.

  “The last woman he psychologically tortured?” Even Savannah’s voice sounded like she had to fight back emotion. “She killed herself. Philadelphia PD were investigating. They liked Anthony Stiles as their main suspect for it, but he disappeared. That was two months ago.”

  Conroy stared at the image on his monitor. Was this the man he’d seen in the parking lot outside the grocery store? Back then, he hadn’t known what it meant. Who’d been following her. Why. How big of a threat this guy was, or would turn out to be.

  Now he was kicking himself that he’d walked away, more concerned with his own hurt feelings.

  He printed out the guy’s photo. “Get this image out to everyone.”

  “Uh…”

  “Yes, I mean everyone. Got it?”

  Wilcox said, “All hands on deck?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wow.”

  He ignored Wilcox’s comment. “Just do it.” There was no way he was taking chances with Mia’s safety. Not when this town had a core of seriously highly-trained resources he could call when he needed a favor.

  He saw Mia frown out the corner of his eye but figured there would be time later. He’d explain about some of the people who lived in this town now. Though, she’d met Tate Hudson. The PI was a character enough, but she probably figured he was an anomaly and not the general rule these days.

  “Okay, I’m back to work.”

  “Don’t be there all night,” he told her. “I’ll come by soon, so leave me something to do. Yeah?”

  “Sweet. I’m not gonna turn down an offer like that.” Wilcox hung up before he could change his mind.

  Conroy set the phone beside his computer.

  “You guys seem friendly.”

  He said, “She’s a good woman and an excellent detective.”

  “There’s what, a few years between you?”

  He shrugged. “She’s mid-thirties.”