Charleston with a Clever Cougar: A Dance with Danger Mystery #6

by Barton, Sara M.

  “Deal,” Doc said, satisfaction written all over his face.

  Chapter Six --

  “Cady, how many more of these am I making?” Darlene wiped her wet hands on her apron on the following afternoon. She had rolled out another three dozen of the shortbread wedding bells, carefully placing them on the parchment-lined baking sheets. She had agreed to stay on until four to help us with the wedding prep. It was already quarter to four, and I wanted to give her enough time to clean up her area.

  “That should be enough for today,” I told her. She seemed relieved. Darlene was pushing sixty, had a husband who got home at three-thirty from the garage, and she was used to doing the early shift. I didn’t want to overwork her or disrupt her normal routine.

  It had been a really long day for all of us. Carole had been a brick, coming in again to help. I noticed a couple of times through the day that some of our male customers had wanted to chat with her. Wouldn’t it be nice for her to be someone other than Daisy and Dylan’s mom, just for a change? Heaven knows Carole was an attractive woman. The short haircut she sported made her look like a young Audrey Hepburn, especially now that she had some color in her cheeks. I thought it was good that she had had a chance to get out in public, rubbing elbows with the coffee crowd. Maybe working at home was a little too isolating for her. She really did need to meet new people, especially after that ex-husband managed to be such a louse. She told me she could stay if we needed her to handle the cash register, but Dylan was still too young to be a latch key kid and he would soon get off the bus.

  Doc had also made himself useful, filling in here and there, doing the heavy lifting, cleaning, and even managed to reorganize the baking supplies.

  At quarter to five, Daisy bagged the trash in the shop and hauled it out the back door, heading for the waste bin shared by the tenants in the strip mall. She was gone quite a long time. Too long. What should have taken her two minutes seemed to take forever. Doc noticed my eyes on the back door.

  “Something wrong?” He preparing to mix another batch of cookie dough, his ingredients spread out across the stainless steel prep table.

  “Daisy took out the trash. She hasn’t come back yet.”

  “Maybe she’s calling a friend. You know how teenagers are, Cady.” I could tell he was trying to reassure me. The only problem was the temperature outside was chilly, too cold for Daisy to hang around while chatting or texting, especially since she didn’t bother to put on a coat.

  “I don’t know.” Something wasn’t right. Don’t ask me how I knew that, but I did.

  “Want me to go look?” Doc peered at me through those glasses, saw the concern on my face, and didn’t bother to wait for my answer. I led him to the back door, planning to point him in the direction of the Dumpster. The building’s spotlights cut through the growing darkness and cast a sharp beam across the parking lot, where two figures wrestled in its glow. We both saw the scene at the same time.

  “Damn!” Doc uttered between clenched teeth. I saw red. Something in me just seemed to explode and I was in motion instantly.

  “Get off her, you bastard!” I ran out into the parking lot, slipping and sliding across the black ice forming as the early spring night turned chilly. “You let her go right now!”

  The masked man turned towards me, his hands around Daisy’s throat. I could see pale circles of his skin in the cutouts of the mask. He was probably a head taller than me, but I didn’t care. I was ready to launch myself through the air and yank him off that teenage girl when Doc flew past me. It took only three or four seconds for the masked assailant to realize his plan was futile. He let go of Daisy, who dropped to the ground, clutching her neck, and then took off, hotly pursued by a man who could, it seems, run very fast. Doc probably would have caught the bastard if it hadn’t been for the dark pickup truck that came squealing across the parking lot, its high beams blinding him. The masked man jumped into the bed of the truck and the driver sped off.

  “Daisy!” I threw my arms around the shivering teenager, ignoring the pain as my aching muscles protested. “Oh, are you okay?”

  “Why?” she cried. “He tried to choke me! Cady, why did he do that?”

  “I couldn’t see the plate,” Doc announced, frustrated. “They put tape over it!”

  For the second time in three days, I went to the emergency room with Daisy, only this time she was the patient. Doc and I sat with her while we waited for Lonnie to bring Carole to the Shoreline Medical Center. There were dark bruises on the teenager’s neck, and a couple of police officers wanted to take her statement.

  “Could you two please excuse us for a few minutes? We have to photograph the bruises,” a male officer told us. “And we’d like to ask you a few questions when we’re done, so stick around.”

  Doc and I waited out in the hallway, pacing as the minutes passed. It wasn’t a particularly busy night, thank heaven. We saw Carole at the admitting desk, looking worried as she sought information on her daughter. We led her to the exam room and then resumed our vigil in the hallway.

  “I have a question, Cady,” said Doc in a low voice. “You kind of went off half-cocked in that parking lot. What did you think you were going to do when you caught up with Daisy’s assailant?”

  I shrugged. How could I explain what drove me to do something that bold? It was pure adrenaline and sheer terror. It was my own demons spurring me into action.

  “You seemed very determined to stop the attack. That was a big risk to take. You must have a reason for reacting that way.”

  I looked at the man beside me. He didn’t make eye contact, and I got the impression all of his energy was focused on listening to me. With a deep breath inflating my lungs, I slowly let it all out. I hesitated, not really sure I wanted to tell Doc what drove me to be so reckless earlier this evening. But in the end, I felt like I owed him an explanation.

  “When my mom was dying in the hospital, I went to visit her one night with Aunt Pinkie. Just before visiting hours were over, my mom and Pinkie wanted to talk privately. She...she wasn’t doing well and it was becoming apparent that she didn’t have long to live. Mom wanted to talk about her funeral. Aunt Pinkie told me to wait in the lobby, but I was too upset. I stepped outside, trying to compose myself.” I could still remember the attack -- the terror that filled every cell of my body, the feel of the knife blade against my neck, the smell of his breath. Even now, my heart beat faster at the memory. All these years later, I rushed through the details, trying to pretend it no longer mattered. “It was over in less than five minutes and it changed my life forever. As soon as he was done, someone found me. I spent years wondering why that woman couldn’t have just walked my way sooner. Why me? Why did it have to happen?”

  “That explains a lot,” Doc said softly.

  “Does it?” I wiped away a tear, thinking about how similar Daisy’s situation was to mine. “For years, I suffered from panic attacks. Everyone chalked it up to unresolved grief over my mother’s death. She died the next day. The truth was that I was terrified he would come back, that somehow he would find me. I was already prepared to say goodbye to my mother. I wasn’t prepared to be raped.”

  “That makes sense, Cady. Rape is a traumatic experience. Coming just before your mother’s death must have made it all so much harder.”

  “It did. Poor Aunt Pinkie felt so guilty, like she had let me down by not being there, even though she was trying to help my mother.”

  “And at the time she was supposed to help you the most, she couldn’t prevent someone else from causing you grievous harm.”

  “Oh,” I sighed. “I wonder if I’ll have nightmares again. You know Carole has cancer? I sort of took Daisy under my wing the way Aunt Pinkie took care of me.”

  “There’s a way to work through the nightmares, you know. You rehearse what you would do if the same thing ever happened to you again. It’s a way of empowering yourself. It’s not a do-over, but a do-better. It’s a way to cope with the pain. The less vulnerable yo
u feel, the better able you are to react in similar circumstances.”

  I nodded in response, thinking that’s what I did, long after the pain dissipated, when the fear remained. I played and replayed that attack in my head over and over again. At first, I hated myself for my bad timing. For a while, I was almost mad at my mother and Aunt Pinkie for sending me away when I was feeling so much grief at the prospect of losing my mother. And then I was really mad at the man who took away my trust in humanity.

  “What made you think something was wrong, that Daisy was in danger tonight?” Doc wanted to know. I couldn’t really put it into words, so I shrugged.

  “I just did.”

  “No. You knew she should have been back. You knew how long it should take her to put the trash into the bin and walk back. Something made you worry.”

  “My insurance agent asked me this morning if I had an ex-boyfriend or a customer with a grudge, because the witnesses said that car came after us deliberately. What if Daisy is the target?” I turned and looked at Doc, hoping he would tell me I was overreacting. Instead, I found his gaze was steady, unwavering.

  “What would the motive be?”

  “I don’t know. But it feels like it’s there, hiding in the shadows, waiting for me to see it.” I crossed my arms, trying to comfort myself, and then remembered why it was a bad idea. “Ouch!”

  “Walk with me,” Doc said.

  “Why? Where are we going?”

  “Humor me.” He led me down the hallway, to the waiting room, where we found a quiet corner. “Tell me about Daisy’s life. Boyfriends. School. Family. I take it Carole is a single mom.”

  It took me a few minutes to tell him about Doug Walchuk’s hot affair with Mimi, as well as the plan to change the custody agreement. When I got done, Doc stood up.

  “We should head back.” We took our time walking back to the exam room.

  “What are we going to do?” I wondered.

  “Not much to do, Cady. We can’t really connect anyone to the hit-and-run or the attack tonight. At least the cops know. They have the resources and manpower to investigate any leads.”

  “I suppose. I feel like I should watch out for Daisy. What if those people try again?”

  “We’ll both look out for her. You need to pay attention to your gut, though. If something doesn’t feel right, it’s probably due to the fact that you noticed something, and you didn’t realize what you were seeing.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I learned the hard way that sometimes your brain takes in information, but doesn’t process it right. Your body knows there’s danger, but you just can’t figure out what you missed. Instead of dismissing it, work with it. That little dip in the road might be a buried IED. That sudden scattering of people in the square might indicate an ambush.”

  In that instant, an image suddenly floated up from the past. There was a shadow that night, just behind the shrub by the front entrance to the hospital, and it moved when I trudged along the sidewalk, sobbing my heart out. I only walked a hundred yards, but it was enough. The street light was out. There was no one around to hear me scream, not until that woman walked by. My attacker stalked me. He followed me from the hospital, waiting until it was dark enough to grab me.

  “You okay?” He touched my arm, freeing me from the remembering.

  “I never realized that he stalked me that night. He planned the whole thing. He was lying in wait.”

  “The assault at the hospital? Why does this surprise you?”

  “I always thought he attacked me because I wandered off. I walked away from the safety of the hospital. But he actually followed me from the front door.” I studied the floor, still recalling the sights and sounds of that night. And the smells. “I didn’t wander into his territory. He was already in mine.”

  “The Big Bad Wolf was a predator. He saw Little Red Riding Hood on her way to Granny’s house, so he stalked her. It’s what predators do.”

  Carole must still be in with Daisy, the doctor, and the cops. The exam room door was closed. We took up positions along the hallway wall to wait.

  “Doc, maybe those guys have been watching the shop. Both times, they went after Daisy after she left Cady’s Cakes -- the first time when we were done for the day, the second when she dumped the trash. They must be hanging around.”

  He stood there, leaning, silent, staring at a painting of a lily pond on the opposite wall. His fingers formed a church steeple, and he rested them against his lips. Finally, he spoke.

  “Yes,” he agreed. “They had eyes on the place. What was different about Daisy’s day before the crash?”

  “Nothing. We locked up at the normal time. I usually drive her home.”

  “What about today, Cady?”

  “On a normal day, it would just be Daisy and me closing up the shop at six.”

  “Would she take the trash out? Is that one of her jobs?” Doc inquired, his mouth tightening.

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Maybe they have a reason for not going after her when she’s home. Maybe it’s supposed to look like a random thing.”

  “So, what does that mean?”

  “Bad guys almost always have a tell.”

  “Like in poker, Doc?” I asked. He nodded, biting his lip as he thought.

  “If it’s related to the custody thing, these guys are hired, and they’ve been given instructions to keep it away from the family. That means she’s in more danger when she’s away from home. It also means they’re stalking her when she’s out and about, looking for that opportunity.” Suddenly Doc had a smile on his face.

  “Why are you smiling?” I demanded. “How is that a good thing she’s being stalked?”

  “If we know they’re following her, we can follow them. And it’s even better if they don’t know we know, because we can catch them in the act.”

  Chapter Seven --

  “We can?”

  “No. You’re hardly up to taking on bad guys. I’ve got some buddies with the right skills.”

  “You do?” There was something about the way he said that which sent a little drop of hope into my veins. Maybe this would level out the playing field and keep Daisy safe.

  “I do. And these guys owe me. I’m calling in my chips.” Doc gently brushed my cheek with his fingers, wiping away the last remnants of the tears spilled earlier. “Don’t worry, Cady. We’ll make sure no one gets to Daisy or anyone else in the family.”

  “Promise?”

  “You let me do my thing, okay?” Doc squeezed my fingers in his. “I’ll do the worrying. You concentrate on that wedding.”

  “Oh!” I groaned. “The wedding!”

  “You’ll get it done, Cady. Take a breath and focus on the mission.”

  “Right.” Easier said than done.”

  The door to the exam room opened and the cops came out. Daisy and Carole were still waiting for the final discharge instructions. Doc and I spent five minutes with a pair of detectives, giving them our version of events. They were very interested in the fact that the license plate was taped over and unreadable.

  The emergency room physician released Daisy just before seven, with instructions to take it easy for the next few days. Carole was shaken, but Doc managed to convince her that Daisy would be safe, without giving her any of the details on how that would get done. He also didn’t want to share with her the potential that her ex-husband’s custody suit was somehow involved. We all drove back in Doc’s two-seater van. Daisy and I huddled in the back, on the air mattress Doc had inflated, his sleeping bag on top. We talked softly. I told her just a little of my own experience because I wanted her to understand that I had walked in those shoes and survived it, and if she needed to vent, I would be her shoulder to cry on. Daisy had already considered me a confidant when things got rough with Carole’s cancer, so I felt sure she would seek me out when she needed to talk.

  Dylan had stayed with Lonnie and his wife, Karen, so we stopped by to pick him up before proceeding to the
Walchuks’ unit.

  “You call me if you need anything,” I told Carole once the family was settled in for the night.

  “We will,” she agreed, her arm around her daughter.

  “What time do you leave for school?” Doc asked Daisy.

  “I have to go to school tomorrow?” There was dismay in the teenager’s voice.

  “Sure. How else will your friends hear about your ordeal? Besides, do you really want the bad guys to think they have you beat?”

  “But....” Daisy started to protest.

  “Do you want to spend the rest of your life hiding?” he demanded.

  “I guess not,” she decided reluctantly.

  “What time do you want me to pick you up?” Doc’s behavior was bordering on pushy, but I realized what he was doing. If we were going to catch the bad guys stalking the teenager, she had to get out in public.

  “Quarter to eight. Does this mean I’m going to work, too?”

  “Absolutely. Any reason you shouldn’t?” I watched Daisy’s reaction as she stood talking to Doc. She seemed to relax a little at the thought that life would go on and she would resume doing the things she normally did. There was something about him, gruffness and all, that seemed to instill confidence. It had been a long time since Doug had been a regular member of the Walchuk family, and that masculine energy was clearly missing from the family dynamics. She needed a male role model, someone protective and strong. For all her teenage angst and attitude, she was really just a scared little girl underneath it all. Carole’s cancer had shaken her faith and forced her out of her comfortable life. Coming on the heels of the divorce, it created instability for Daisy at a time she needed stability most.

  “Call me if you need me,” Doc told Carole, “day or night. Let me give you my number.”

  As Carole took out her cell phone to add it to her contacts list, Daisy pulled me aside.