Firefly Run

by Trish Milburn

  "Let me talk to him."

  "What the heck for?"

  "I’m not going to plot against you, don’t worry. Just humor me."

  She held out the phone to Reed, who was still watching her with that deep, probing gaze of his. She wondered whether he knew how intense he looked without even trying.

  "My big brother wishes to speak to the cop in the house."

  Reed stood and walked toward her. Their hands brushed as he took the phone from her. An unexpected zing of electricity shot through her at the touch. She turned her back and stepped to the sink.

  What had that been about? She shouldn’t have that kind of reaction to Reed. He’d been her husband’s best friend, her good friend. She shook her head as she washed the dishes. Maybe she needed to take her own advice and dip her toes back into the dating game.

  With a final shake of her head, she turned toward Reed when he hung up the phone.

  "What did he say?"

  "That he loved you."

  "I’m sure there was a bit more to it than that."

  "A bit."

  She crossed her arms. "Do I have to beat it out of you?"

  He locked his gaze with hers, and the intensity of it shocked her down to her toes. "He said that if I let anything happen to you, he would personally choke me to death."

  She started for the phone, but Reed stopped her by catching her arm. "Don’t." Though a command, the single word came out low and gentle.

  "I’m sorry. He didn’t have any right to speak to you like that."

  "I understand why he said it. He’s just worried."

  Shelly glanced down to where his long fingers wrapped around her upper arm. He released her as if her skin had scalded him and moved back toward the table.

  The phone rang three more times, all neighbors checking on her after they’d seen the news. After hanging up the third time, she expected it to ring immediately but it blessedly didn’t. If she had to reassure some well-meaning soul one more time tonight, she might explode. She was tempted to turn off the ringer and let the answering machine catch any further calls, but that would just make the callers worry more, maybe even prompt a few to show up on her doorstep. They did that enough on a normal day, many of the older residents evidently still thinking of her as "that cute little Wynn girl."

  She looked at the wall clock above the stove. Too early to go to bed, despite the fact she was tired down to her bone marrow. But she didn’t want Reed to think she was avoiding him, even though he was making her inexplicably nervous.

  Needing some distraction, she picked up the remote and switched the TV to The Weather Channel. The forecast predicted sunny and warm. Good, they could do the necessary work on the cabins before the weekend. She paused for a moment on HGTV where they were highlighting decorating themes for weekend getaways. She jotted down a couple of ideas for the guest cabins and one for her own. When she reached CNN, her blood ran cold. A prison photograph of Eddie Victor stared back at her.

  "Oh, God," she said under her breath. Even though she knew the story was making news headlines, she still wasn’t prepared to see it for herself.

  "In a case that’s rocking the Dallas Police Department, convicted murderer Eddie Victor was released from prison this morning after it was discovered two officers had planted a gun in his home. Victor has spent the past year on death row at the Texas State Prison at Huntsville. The officers involved, Dale Christiansen and Brady Frazier, are in custody pending—"

  Reed rounded the end of the couch and pulled the remote from her hand. He pointed it toward the TV and clicked it off. She rubbed against the goosebumps peppering her arms. Reed crouched in front of her and propped his hand on her knee. She looked at him, saw the determination in his eyes.

  "He won’t get to you, Shelly. I swear it."

  She wanted to believe him, but an overwhelming sense of doom descended on her like thick mountain fog.

  "I’m really tired," she said. "I’m going to bed."

  Reed stood. "Good night, then." He walked toward the front door. He stopped there and looked back at her. "Lock the door, and keep your cell phone on and beside your bed just in case your phone line is cut."

  This was like some horror movie come to life. Too bad she couldn’t turn it off like Reed had her television. She nodded, and he slipped out the door.

  Shelly locked the door before he even descended her front steps. She watched out the window as he walked the short distance to his cabin, then turned on his light. She slid the chair back underneath the doorknob and retreated to her bedroom. Even though Reed and a few guests were only seconds away, she felt incredibly alone, the silence more ominous than it’d ever been before. Every creak of the cabin, every rustling of the trees made her eyes grow wider and her heart thump harder, so hard it was difficult to hear the sounds that had frightened her in the first place.

  Despite her common sense telling her that Eddie wouldn’t risk going back to prison by hurting her, she was suddenly so scared she couldn’t even approach her bed, afraid Eddie was the boogeyman underneath and would grab her ankle. If she turned out the light and tried to sleep, would Eddie materialize out of the dark to end her life as he had Troy’s?

  She rummaged in the drawer of her nightstand until she found the nightlight she hadn’t used in months. She plugged it in then with a leap reminiscent of her childhood she got into bed and slid under the thin summer comforter. She grasped at the anger she felt toward Eddie as the one thing that might get her through the night. The fear stretching her muscles and nerves to the point she vibrated might rob her of sanity if she focused on it.

  But as the clock ticked and the night crept by as if it were in no hurry to relinquish its hold on her corner of the world, the anger faded, replaced by the inevitable fear. Her ears rang with the strain of listening for footsteps. She wondered if it were possible for her heart to pump too fast for too long. Would she die before Eddie got anywhere near her? The possibility of being scared to death took hold and grew as the seconds slowly became minutes and finally hours.

  Her body ached from the tension, but she dared not move, afraid the slightest change in the status quo would invite disaster. If she could just make it until dawn, she’d be safe. But her body wouldn’t relax. Each time she closed her eyelids, she’d hear a creak and her eyes would pop back open. She finally gave up and stared at the ceiling. Even that didn’t help. Against the light background, she kept seeing the photo of Eddie they’d shown on TV. Dressed in prison garb, his face fierce, and his eyes even more full of hate than they’d been during the trial.

  Though exhaustion tugged on her, Shelly forced her burning eyes to stay open. She feared sleep, and not just because of the nightmares that were sure to assault her. No, what she feared most was waking up to find the eyes staring at her were real.

  ****

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Reed watched out his window until Shelly’s lights went off and decided to wait another half-hour for her to go to sleep before he returned to his post on her front steps. He’d sleep in the morning after Chris arrived and the guests were milling around the grounds.

  He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number for Lee Berkowitz, one of his fellow detectives.

  "Yellow?" came the familiar answer, Berk’s own twangy version of a hello.

  "Hey, Berk."

  "Wondered when you were going to call. Thought maybe they didn’t have phones up there in Hickville."

  "Yes, they have phones. And running water and color TV, too."

  Berk snorted. "Guess you want a report."

  "No, I just called because I missed you."

  "Yeah, I’ll pretend you didn’t say that. Well, the eyes in the field say Eddie’s decided to live it up a little. First thing he did was go eat the biggest Mexican meal this side of Mexico City and drink enough beer to float the Titanic. And he booked a flight to Las Vegas in the morning. Guess he figures he’s got some catching up to do."

  "Maybe."

  "Oh, hell, I kn
ow that tone."

  "Just keep an eye on him. I don’t trust the obvious."

  "Will do."

  Reed ended the call and checked his watch. Time to return to his post. He scanned the darkness as he moved from his cabin to Shelly’s and sat down on the edge of her porch. As he peered into the night, he wished he knew if his instinct was correct. Would Eddie claim his revenge as he’d promised, or was Shelly right and his time behind bars had changed his mind? Now that he’d seen the reality of prison, would he chance going back? Reed’s gut told him nothing would deter Eddie from evening the score, and his gut had rarely been wrong.

  Reed’s hands clenched as he remembered the fear on Shelly’s face when she’d seen Eddie’s picture on TV. She shouldn’t ever have to look at him again. He’d kill Eddie himself before he’d let that scum anywhere near her.

  Maybe it was better that he was in a separate cabin after all. If he confronted Eddie, he didn’t want Shelly anywhere near them. Not to mention the unexpected attraction he’d felt toward her from the moment he’d seen her this morning, an attraction that instantly made him feel guilty.

  He rubbed his hand absently where it had touched hers earlier in the evening. The jolt that faint touch had caused had shocked him as had his pure awareness of Shelly as a woman. It’d made him want to flee back to Dallas as fast as he could hop a plane. He hadn’t been prepared for that, and he hated not being prepared before he confronted a situation. He’d simply have to forget it, pretend it had never happened, because he wasn’t going back to Texas until Shelly was safe. And though he was out of his jurisdiction, he couldn’t depend totally on the local law enforcement because they might not be able to do anything until it was too late.

  No matter how much he tried to make himself focus on Eddie, on making sure the grounds of Firefly Run were as safe as possible, his tired mind kept coming back to that touch, the stirring sight of Shelly in those thin pajamas, the light bouncing off her strawberry blond hair, her bright blue eyes watching him from across the table.

  He closed his own eyes and leaned back against the porch post. What was wrong with him? He’d come here to protect Shelly, to pay a debt, not ogle his best friend’s widow. Troy might be gone, but it still wasn’t right. So he’d been feeling a bit lonely lately. So what if his fellow detectives went home to wives who loved them and spent their weekends watching their sons play baseball and their daughters do gymnastics while he worked constant overtime trying to win a losing battle against the department’s ever-growing caseload?

  And besides, what would Shelly think if she could read his thoughts? Would she fail to take precautions because she was uncomfortable around him? He couldn’t risk it.

  It shouldn’t matter that when he went home to his sparse apartment, one Troy had teasingly called the ultimate bachelor pad, that it felt more like a prison cell than a home. But it did. Suddenly, it mattered a lot.

  Damn, he wished Eddie were no longer in the picture so he could go home and forget the strange new feelings seeing Shelly again had sent swirling through him.

  He stayed on the porch until daylight began to creep over the mountains. Exhausted—both mentally and physically—he trudged back to his own cabin and waited until Chris drove into the parking lot. Then Reed dropped like a falling tree into bed. God, he hoped he was too tired to dream.

  ****

  When the hazy hint of dawn filtered into Shelly’s bedroom, she wondered whether it had really arrived or if it was some trick of her tired and burning eyes. Even when the soft light of dawn gave way to the first strong rays of sunshine, it wasn’t the release she’d craved during the dark hours before. She finally unfolded herself but still couldn’t get out of bed before taking a deep breath and quickly leaning over the side to make sure Eddie hadn’t been hiding underneath all night enjoying her terror like a normal person would enjoy fine wine.

  But no sinister killer lurked beneath. Only dust bunnies and a pair of fuzzy house shoes she wore during the winter. Staring at those shoes with the blood rushing to her head made her feel like a fool.

  She lifted her head, then collapsed back against her pillow. She ached as if she’d been shoved through the wringer on one of those old-fashioned washing machines. She’d lain stick straight in her bed all night, not relaxing until dawn began to peek through the slats in her vertical blinds. It made her angry that a worthless heap of flesh and bone like Eddie Victor was the cause of her exhaustion. She hadn’t slept much since her father had been rushed to the hospital, and with the busy season about to start she needed some rest. She absolutely had to sleep, but not right now. Another workday waited.

  Shelly forced herself from the bed and toward the bathroom. But even though daylight was beginning to free her from the death grip her imagination had exerted overnight, she still couldn’t force herself into the shower, even though nothing would feel better at the moment. In the space of one day, she’d gone from being able to slip into her tub to shaking at the thought of stripping and stepping behind the shower curtain. She’d be too vulnerable.

  Instead, she quickly washed her face and hair in the sink, dried her hair while standing in the open doorway so she could see farther than the confines of the tiny bathroom, and brushed her teeth. Some deodorant and she was presentable if not a sweeping beauty.

  She tried not to worry that her sense of vulnerability would increase with each day that passed. Her mind was determined to continue on as normal, but her deeply rooted fear was doing its best to trump rationality.

  Not much call for pepper spray in rural Tennessee, so she armed herself with the next best thing that wouldn’t draw questions from guests should she encounter them. A can of bug repellant in hand, she opened the front door and made a quick survey of the grounds. Two of the guest cabins were occupied, but the guests weren’t out and about yet. Neither was Reed.

  Taking comfort from the bright sunlight and the warmth filtering into the clearing, she did her best to walk at a normal pace to the office. Once inside, she held her breath until she checked out all the spaces where a full-grown man could hide. When she’d cleared the building like the cops with whom she used to spend a good bit of time, she sank into the chair between her desk and the front counter. Though more confident of her safety than she’d been only a minute before, she kept the bug spray within easy reach.

  Chris whistled when he walked in a few minutes later, a can of blue paint in his hand and a few smudges on his face. "Either you didn’t sleep a wink last night or you went out drinking and didn’t invite me along."

  "You know, it’s a good thing I like you." She rose and brushed by him on her way to retrieve a soda from the fridge.

  "I see you’re having a healthy breakfast, too."

  She ignored him and dropped back into the chair. Chris leaned against the wall beside her.

  "I was just trying to lighten the mood. Didn’t mean anything by it."

  She offered him a faint smile, but even that much effort used up all her energy. "I know. I appreciate it. It’s better than being coddled."

  "Is that what Tanner’s doing?"

  "Not exactly. He just has his own way of approaching things. And Sean called last night about to have a conniption. In fact, you’re the only man in my life who still isn’t telling me what to do."

  "It’s because you sign my paycheck."

  She snorted at his comment. "You might be the only one I don’t throw in the river." She shooed him away with her hands. "Go on, now. I’ve got to see if I can get something done."

  Evidently done touching up the Firefly Run sign by the main road, he deposited the paint in the storage room before heading for the door. "Yell if you need anything," he said, letting her know that while he wasn’t bossing her around, he was there for her just the same.

  She knew everyone cared, but she was so used to doing things on her own now that the sudden protective circle took some getting used to.

  Chris’s tall, lanky form headed out to mow the lawn. Would she have sons li
ke him one day? If Troy had lived, they might have already started their family. A heavy sense of loss swamped her, and unexpected tears pooled in her eyes. She wiped them away, blaming them on too much stress and too little sleep.

  She called the hospital to check on her father only to find there still hadn’t been any change. At least he hadn’t worsened or had another heart attack. Shelly latched onto that, trying to focus on the positive. "If you need me, Mom, don’t hesitate to call. I’ll get there as fast as I can."

  "We’re okay, dear. You can’t do anything here but sit around watching the minutes tick by. You’re helping by taking care of things there. I’m sorry you’re having to do it alone."

  "I’m not alone. Chris is here. And Anna stops by when she’s not working." She almost mentioned Reed, but she didn’t want to answer any resulting questions that might end up causing her mother more worry.

  When she ended the call, her heart weighed heavy. Her mother was right, but it didn’t stop Shelly from wanting to be there to comfort her and make sure she ate and slept so she didn’t get sick, too.

  Shelly’s hand was still on the phone when it rang.

  With a deep breath to try to rid herself of the lump in her throat, she answered. "Firefly Run River Rentals. Can I help you?"

  No one replied. All she heard was a few seconds of what sounded like country music in the background before the caller hung up. Wrong number, she guessed.

  She hung up and began work on the new brochure she was designing. But after a few minutes, the drone of the lawnmower made her eyelids droop. Giving up on the brochure, she retrieved the newest of the magazines she subscribed to and headed toward the empty guest cabins.

  She tried not to stare at Reed’s as she passed by. Quite frankly, she was surprised he wasn’t up and glued to her side warning her about safety hazards. It wasn’t that she didn’t think about her safety. She just didn’t want to dwell on it every waking hour. If she did, she’d go crazy.

  Maybe the quiet of the setting and the comfort of the bed had finally allowed Reed to get some rest, and she fully intended to let him sleep as long as he wanted to. If Eddie did show up, they both needed to be rested and aware.