Reunited by Danger

by Carol J. Post

  At least the return trip to Cedar Key would be quiet. Too quiet. If only he could think of a way to lift her spirits.

  Amber’s ringtone sounded and she pulled her phone from her purse. Maybe the caller would be able to do what he couldn’t.

  She sighed and swiped the screen. “Hey, Liv.”

  Okay, maybe not.

  According to Amber, Liv had phoned first thing this morning and Amber had talked with her during breakfast. A second call came shortly after he’d arrived and they were loading up the cats. Now a third.

  Liv wasn’t just high maintenance. She was a poster child for needy friends. Probably not the best thing for Amber’s state of mind.

  She set her purse on the floor at her feet. “I’m not busy. Caleb and I are heading back from Williston. Then I’m moving in with Hunter and Meagan.” She paused. “You should do the same—go stay with friends or family, only until this is over. You shouldn’t be alone.”

  As Amber talked, he couldn’t help but smile. She was using the same soothing tone she’d used with the cats. The sympathetic nature she possessed came with an infinite well of patience.

  By the time Amber finished with Liv, they’d already crossed the first bridge into Cedar Key. She slid her phone into her purse. “If Hunter and Meagan had room, I’d ask Liv to come and stay with us.”

  “What about her parents?”

  “Her mom’s remarried and living in North Carolina. Her stepdad doesn’t want anything to do with her.” She sighed. “That’s been the story of her life.”

  His heart twisted. With a loving, supportive family of his own, it was hard to imagine Olivia’s life.

  “What about friends? She must have someone who would put her up temporarily.”

  “According to Liv, she doesn’t. She said she asked a girl she used to work with, but she’s newly married and her husband won’t take in strays.”

  At his quick glance, she frowned. “Those were Liv’s words. Another friend lives in an efficiency apartment and doesn’t have the room. She left a message for a third, who never returned her call. I got the impression these were more acquaintances than friends.”

  He shook his head. No family and no friends close enough to count on in an emergency.

  When he pulled into Amber’s driveway, she opened the passenger door. “Thanks for going with me. If I’d had to do this alone, I’d have been a blubbering idiot.”

  “What are friends for?”

  He stepped from the truck. Friends. That was what they were. And he’d keep reminding himself of that as often as he needed to.

  The problem was, the hug at her uncle’s place yesterday had almost done him in. He’d been teasing when he’d asked. He hadn’t expected it to affect him the way it had.

  Everything lately reminded him of how lonely he was. The past four years he’d had no problem convincing himself that love wasn’t worth the risk of loss that came with it. Unfortunately his heart was no longer listening to reason. The TV programs playing in the background, the concern of friends and the love he received from his family were poor substitutes for the intimacy and companionship he’d shared with his wife.

  After climbing from the vehicle, Amber walked to the road to retrieve her mail. As she flipped through what she held, her brows drew together. “One of these is handwritten, no return address.”

  He looked down at jagged block lettering now disturbingly familiar. “According to the postmark, this was mailed two days ago from Bronson.”

  Amber pursed her lips. “Considering Bronson’s where Liv is, I’d rather not mention that part to her. She’s freaked out enough as it is.”

  “Let me get some latex gloves.” They hadn’t gotten one viable print from the other pieces of paper, but he’d never stop hoping the killer would eventually get careless.

  Once inside the house, he opened the envelope and carefully removed its contents—a single page folded in thirds. As expected, it was another poem. He held it where she could read along with him.

  Night is coming, the end is near.

  The death knell is pealing. Can you hear?

  Four have paid, only two remain.

  Both girls equally bear the blame.

  Ten years has passed, but we won’t forgive.

  Who is next, Amber or Liv?

  His chest tightened. Amber looked up at him, her eyes wide, and he resisted the urge to pull her into his arms.

  “How soon can you be ready to go?” The tension inside came out in his tone. “The sooner we get you to Hunter’s, the better.”

  “I’m ready now. I got packed before you arrived this morning, except for Tippy’s litter box.”

  “I’ll help you get loaded. Then I’ll follow you. We can take this with us and call the police when we get there.”

  “Or we can give it to the deputy again, let him add it to the other evidence. He’s probably bored out there anyway.”

  She disappeared down the hall and returned wheeling two suitcases, one large, the other carry-on size.

  Soon, Caleb had loaded both, along with the litter box and a bag of cat supplies, into the bed of his truck. After putting the cat carrier into the RAV4, Amber backed from the drive and pulled onto the street, with Caleb following close behind.

  Once he’d unloaded everything and Amber had locked Tippy in Meagan’s studio, Caleb turned to leave.

  Hunter held up a hand. “How about joining us for lunch? Meagan has had chili simmering most of the morning. It’s almost ready.”

  Yeah, the aromas emanating from the kitchen had been driving him crazy since he arrived. “If it tastes half as good as it smells, I can’t resist.”

  Hunter invited them to sit in the living room. Meagan had given a brief greeting when they’d arrived, then returned to work on a painting she’d been commissioned to do.

  A muffled woof sounded from down the hall and Hunter moved in that direction. A few moments later a chocolate Lab bounded into the room ahead of him. The dog went straight to Amber and tried to slather her face with sloppy kisses. His tail beat side to side at a rapid pace.

  Amber laughed, holding him back. “This is Bruno.”

  “He adores you.”

  “He adores everybody. Get ready, because you’re next.”

  As promised, Bruno moved to the other body on the couch, not the least concerned about his status as stranger. Two big paws landed in Caleb’s lap and a wet tongue slid across his jaw before he could react. Caleb cupped the dog’s cheeks and scratched his neck.

  Hunter made a hand signal. “Bruno, come. Sit.” He gave an apologetic smile as he settled into his recliner. “He’s obnoxiously sweet.” Hunter grew serious. “I’m glad you finally talked some sense into my bullheaded sister.”

  The warmth behind the words belied their sternness. Caleb had always liked Hunter. But with the five-year age difference, they’d never been close. Now it was no big deal.

  “I’m glad, too. I’ll be resting a lot easier.” A seed of doubt crept in. “I’m just concerned about during the day, when she’s not with you.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on her then, too. It helps that we work together. Sunday, I plan to take her to church with me, even if I have to drag her there kicking and screaming. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like.”

  “I think I’ll do that.”

  Amber frowned at him. “Don’t you have a Sunday school class to teach?”

  “Not now. I team teach with another guy. We trade off every quarter. July, August and September are his months.”

  “You two are ganging up on me.”

  Hunter shrugged. “Whatever works.”

  Caleb settled into the couch, a sense of peace washing over him. Hunter wouldn’t only care for her physical well-being. He’d be every bit as concerned with her spiri
tual condition.

  Over the past three weeks Amber had been swept into an unthinkable nightmare.

  But God worked in mysterious ways.

  Maybe here with Hunter and Meagan was exactly where she needed to be.

  * * *

  Amber stood clutching the pew in front of her, Caleb to her left. Hunter stood on her right, Meagan on his other side. All around her, music swelled as people lifted their voices in praise. She mouthed the words, her voice a mere whisper. Participating in worship seemed hypocritical of her. She didn’t belong here.

  It had nothing to do with the people. She knew most of them. Cedar Key was small, and she’d lived here long enough to be well acquainted with eighty percent of the full-time population and a good number of the regular visitors. So those in attendance weren’t making her uncomfortable.

  It was the place. Cold and sterile and far too holy.

  Hunter shouldn’t have insisted she come. He’d used the excuse that he didn’t want to leave her alone. She didn’t buy it. With the house securely locked, a guard dog inside and two deputies outside, no one was going to get to her.

  No, his insistence was another example of him trying to tell her what to do, the same as he always had. He thought he knew what was best for her.

  As the last strains of the final song faded to silence, she took a seat with the rest of the congregation. The screen that had held song lyrics now displayed the sermon title. Scripture verses followed, a passage about King David.

  As a child, she’d liked the Bible stories. As a teen, she’d grown bored with them. As an adult, she failed to see their relevance.

  The pastor began to read and she half listened, her attention split between his words and her troubled thoughts. Once church was over, they’d head home to enjoy a lunch of roast beef, potatoes and carrots cooked in the Crock-Pot.

  And someone would be watching.

  With so many people around her, he wouldn’t act. But he’d be nearby, waiting for the others to let down their guard and leave her unprotected long enough for him to strike.

  Or maybe Liv was his target today. Wherever she was, it wasn’t church. She was probably holed up at home, jumping over every sound.

  Sadness pressed down on Amber. Here she was, safe and secure under Hunter’s and Caleb’s protection, and Liv had no one. Levy County was guarding them both. But nothing took the place of the support of family and friends.

  Her attention slipped back to the pastor’s words. This wasn’t the story of David and Goliath. It was the account of David taking Bathsheba. Amber was familiar with that story, too. Although her Sunday school teachers had likely glossed over some of the details.

  Her mind drifted again. Focusing was difficult, not that she was trying very hard. She had too many worries.

  Paramount in her thoughts was concern for her cats. Not all of them. Tippy was fine. When Amber had first turned her loose in Meagan’s studio, she’d prowled around the room, exploring every nook and cranny. Then she’d curled up in the center of the daybed and taken a nap. Last night the two of them had shared the cramped space.

  The other four wouldn’t be doing as well. The image of sad eyes set in furry faces still haunted her. When she’d first brought them home, it had taken them almost a month to get comfortable. Now they’d been uprooted again. They were probably scared to death, wondering why she’d abandoned them. Were the repercussions of her actions ten years ago ever going to stop?

  The pastor’s words cut into her thoughts. God had called David a man after his own heart. I bet he never got that title back again.

  He’d heaped guilt on top of guilt. First, he’d slept with a married woman. Then when she’d ended up pregnant, he’d tried to hide what he’d done by calling her husband home from the battlefield. When that hadn’t worked, he’d arranged to have the man killed.

  Talk about bad choices. At least when she’d texted the invitation to Landon, she hadn’t intended any harm. And afterward, when she’d kept Liv’s rape a secret, she hadn’t hurt anyone. Well, ultimately she had, but it hadn’t been intentional. And nothing she’d done had been intended to hurt her father.

  But David was a character she could relate to. She knew all about mistakes, and she’d experienced her fair share of guilt. She cast a sideways glance at her brother. Had Hunter spoken with the pastor and gotten him to preach a sermon directed at her?

  Or was God trying to get her attention?

  She pulled her lower lip between her teeth and fiddled with her bulletin, rolling each of the corners inward.

  The pastor read the next passage, where the prophet Nathan called David out on everything he’d done. The king had taken the words to heart. His prayer for forgiveness was displayed on the screen, verses from Psalm 51.

  After all he’d done, his relationship with God had been restored. He’d still had to suffer the consequences of his actions, but the guilt had been wiped away.

  A spark of hope flickered. Was the same possible for her? Might peace be within her reach?

  Notes on the piano sounded and the people stood to sing. This time she didn’t even mouth the lyrics. The pastor’s persuasive words urged her to the altar while her doubts held her rooted in place. She closed her eyes, a sense of claustrophobia gripping her. She needed sunshine and fresh air.

  Pressure against the side of her arm startled her. Caleb leaned close to whisper in her ear. “If you want to go forward, I’ll go with you.”

  She shook her head. She wasn’t ready. She might never be ready. How could she let go of ten years of guilt? Especially with reminders of the past all around her?

  He laid his hand over hers and squeezed. She’d turned down his request, but he was still offering support. Caleb would make the ideal mate for someone someday. Unfortunately someday seemed to be a distant, unreachable point in the future. And someone would never be her.

  When she opened her eyes, two women and a man knelt at the altar, and a shadow fell across her mind, the fear she’d passed up a one-time opportunity.

  Soon people began to file out. She moved into the aisle and Caleb fell into step beside her. Outside, the sunshine she’d longed for was filtered through a layer of heavy gray clouds. A rain-scented breeze blew, whipping her hair into her face. She tucked it behind one ear, thoughts still on the sermon. “He makes it sound so easy.”

  “People make it too hard. They think they have to earn God’s forgiveness. But that’s not how it works. There’s no giant scale up there. God isn’t going to put all your good deeds on one side and everything bad you’ve ever done on the other.”

  Yeah, she knew that, at least with her head. But did she believe it with her heart?

  Meagan and Hunter exited the church and when they all piled into Meagan’s car, it was starting to sprinkle. By the time they stepped onto the porch, the sky had opened up. But inside was safe and dry. And full of pleasant aromas.

  Before Hunter had even closed the door, Bruno bounded into the room from the back of the house, tail wagging. Beginning with Meagan, he worked his way through the group, greeting each of them with equal enthusiasm. Whether left alone for ten minutes or a half day, he could hardly contain himself once he had company again.

  Amber walked down the hall to check on the other four-legged resident of the house. Tippy would be happy to see her but wouldn’t be nearly as expressive about it as Bruno had been.

  As soon as she opened the door, a variety of scents surrounded her—paints, thinners, the roast sending its aroma throughout the house and...something else. Like peanut butter.

  But that was impossible. Hunter and Meagan wouldn’t allow any products containing peanuts past the front door. Some odd combination of art supply scents had to be tricking her nose.

  She moved to where Tippy sat on Meagan’s stool, tall and alert. Amber gave her several strokes, the
n pulled a pair of jeans and T-shirt from the chest of drawers.

  After trading the dress for more casual clothes, she waved her hand in front of her nose. The peanut butter smell was faint, but it seemed to permeate her sinuses. She’d always found the odor offensive, maybe because it could kill her.

  When she returned to the front of the house, Meagan had already changed clothes and was setting the table. Hunter was sitting on the couch keeping Bruno from being underfoot in the kitchen, and Caleb was keeping him company.

  Hunter looked up when she entered the room. “Everything okay? You seem tense.”

  She shook her head. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think Meagan switched to peanut butter based paints.”

  “What?” Hunter pushed himself to his feet without waiting for an answer.

  By the time they reached the end of the hall, both Caleb and Meagan had joined them. Amber entered after the others were inside and closed the door behind them. “What do you smell?”

  Hunter looked around the room, and she followed his gaze. Nothing was out of place. If it had been, she’d have noticed.

  “All the usual art-related odors.” Hunter’s nose twitched. “But there’s definitely a faint smell of peanut butter.

  Meagan nodded. “I agree. And I can promise you, that one has nothing to do with me.”

  After sniffing the air a couple more times, Hunter opened the blinds.

  Amber gasped. The window was closed, but someone had put a softball-sized hole in the glass above the lock.

  Caleb yanked the bedspread back. Everything looked the same as when she’d made the bed that morning. But when he turned the pillow over, a light brown smear marked its underside. The same gooey substance coated a two-inch by four-inch section of the sheet.

  “Get out of here.” Hunter’s tone was commanding, not allowing any argument. She didn’t plan to give any. But she couldn’t get her feet moving. While the deputy had waited outside the church, someone had come into Hunter’s house and booby-trapped her temporary bedroom. Someone who knew about her peanut allergy.