Kicking the Habit

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Kicking the Habit Page 14

by Kari Lee Townsend


  “Stay the hell out of my life,” he growled.

  Oh, wow. She hadn’t expected that. It might take a bit more work than she anticipated to find the good in the obviously troubled janitor. “I wasn’t aware I was in your life.” She backed up and put the coffee table in between them, but she refused to back down.

  He seemed to sense her unease, and a sinister snarl stretched his hard mouth. “Not yet, but I know your kind. You will be.”

  “How do you mean?” She held her head high, not about to cower before a bully.

  That made him glower even more. “You’re butting your nose in where it doesn’t belong. I don’t like that.”

  She folded her hands in front of her and said in a calm, serene tone, “If you have something to hide, then just say so. That’s what I’m here for, after all.”

  His whiskered jaw hardened. “I don’t have anything to hide, and I sure as shit ain’t confessing to the likes of you. I’m just a private person, is all.”

  “And I’m a persistent person. I won’t rest until the senator’s murder is solved, Mr. Walker. If you had something to do with that, I will find out. Make no mistake about that.”

  He stepped closer to the table and pointed his finger in her face. “Then you will suffer the consequences, Sister.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “That’s an observation. There are bad people in this world. You might want to go back to the convent where you belong, before more people get hurt. Or do you have a death wish?”

  It took everything in her not to flinch, but she stood her ground. “If I die, my soul is at peace. There’s no suffering on my end. Can you say the same?”

  “I can say I’m big and strong and capable of defending myself. Can you say the same?” An evil smirk spread across his face. “I don’t think so.”

  “And I think it’s time for you to leave.”

  He laughed harshly. “It’s your funeral. Don’t say you weren’t warned.” He turned around and stormed out, slamming the door.

  Cece walked over on shaky legs and quickly locked it behind him.

  After doing some deep breathing exercises and calming her nerves, she spent the next two hours finishing her paperwork and taking her mind off one disgruntled janitor and his threatening words. Realizing she’d lost track of time, she glanced out the window of her office. An eerie darkness had settled outside. If she didn’t get to Granny’s soon, Candy would undoubtedly wring her neck and not think twice about it. Not to mention Cece would have to endure a long lecture from a certain bossy detective.

  Heaving a heavy sigh, she gathered her coat, locked up her clinic, and headed upstairs to her apartment. Quickly changing into a pair of jeans and a soft peach sweater that brought out the amber in her eyes, she let her hair down. Candy had convinced Cece to add a bit of color to her life, and as for letting her hair down, she had a headache from her standard bun. That was the only reason she’d given in, not because a certain someone had said he liked it that way or the fact that he would probably be at Granny’s when she got there.

  Her sweater was thick enough that she’d opted to leave her coat behind. Snatching up her house keys, she locked up her apartment and then descended the stairs. The evening air was brisk, but it carried the scent of fur trees and pinecones from the nearby woods. Cece loved the fall. Everything always seemed crystal clear, the hazy days of summer long gone. She glanced at the sky and the stars, sparkling in their brilliance, no clouds in sight.

  It was a perfect evening for a walk.

  She was halfway to Granny’s when the sensation that she was being watched trickled through her, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She’d left her purse behind and only had her house keys as a weapon. She fished them out of her pocket and clenched them in her hand, picking up the pace of her walk. It didn’t take long to hear footsteps behind her. She peeked over her shoulder but didn’t see anyone. Maybe she had imagined it. She’d always been told she had a fertile mind. When the footsteps started up again, closer this time, she turned around completely, walking backward. She’s spotted a quick flash of movement as someone ducked behind a tree.

  “Detective Jackson, if that’s you, I’m reporting you to the Feds. Stalking me is taking nun-sitting a bit far, don’t you think?”

  No answer.

  Cece whirled around, a sinking feeling settling into the pit of her stomach as her gaze darted everywhere and saw nothing but woods now. She’d long since passed all the businesses on Main Street and the side roads, and she was nearly to the end, where Granny’s house was located. So close to safety, yet it felt so very far away. Of course, the cell phone Candy had insisted she buy was back in her purse as well. Cece might have told Mumfry she was prepared to die, but now that imminent danger was upon her, she wasn’t prepared for anything. She still had so much she wanted to accomplish. So much to live for. So much to tell Ace. …

  She so did not want to die!

  Cece started to jog, her heart hammering in her throat. She could actually see Granny’s house in the distance. The detective’s truck was parked in the driveway, like she knew it would be. Relief shot through her. If she made it, she would never complain again about the detective becoming her shadow. She opened her mouth, preparing to shout, when something hard hit her in the back of her head.

  She stumbled forward and nearly fell to the ground, but she caught her balance at the last second. Fighting off the blackness trying to consume her, she blinked the stars out of her eyes as a wave of nausea swept over her. Something slammed into her and yanked her hair hard. She managed to turn around, but strong gloved hands wrapped around her neck, cutting off her air supply. She clawed at the hands as she looked up at a masked face. The person was dressed head to toe in black. There was no way to tell who it was.

  No matter how frantically Cece clawed at the hands, she couldn’t pull them off her neck. They squeezed harder, pushing her to the ground in the process. The cold seeped into her back as she struggled, but the person sat on top of her, cutting off her air even further. The evil, life-consuming blackness began to win, and tears of regret trickled out of her eyes, rolling fatefully down her cheeks. She could feel that the end was near, and as she started to black out, the image of her dream man’s face appeared in her mind’s eye.

  Ace … she thought as the world around her faded to black.

  ***

  Ace paced Hester Monroe’s kitchen relentlessly. Finally, he stopped and slapped his hands on the Formica tabletop. “Your sister is late. I don’t like it.”

  “Relax, Detective,” Candy replied, setting the table. “She’ll be here. She promised, and Cece doesn’t lie. You of all people should know that.”

  “She might not outright lie, but she sure has a way of dancing around the truth and pretty much outwitting all of us.”

  “She is resourceful, I’ll give you that.” Candy paused with a proud smile on her face, but then she pointed a fork at him and continued, “She’s also still really angry with you.” Candy went back to setting the rest of the table and then stirred the spicy chili simmering on the stove … right next to Granny’s latest brew of a curse meant for him. She was upstairs fetching her spell book as they spoke.

  “I compromised. I got rid of my partner for a few hours, and I gave Cece some space like you said, but you never told me she was walking here,” he growled, barely able to hold back his anger and frustration. Scrubbing a hand over his flattop, he continued to pace. “If she’s not here in five minutes, I’m going to get her, no matter how angry it might make her.”

  After Candy had dropped her sister off, she’d shown up at her grandmother’s and stopped her crazy Granny from trying to kill both him and Rocco. She’d surprised Ace, who had been all over town with Rocco, searching for Candy and Cece after church but apparently just missing them each time. Her grandmother’s house was the last place he’d stopped, and Candy had finally shown up alone. Ace had found out Cece was by herself at her clinic. He’d started to
head over there, but then Candy had reminded him how angry Cece was.

  He admitted he’d strong-armed Cece a bit after church because that damn kiss had messed with his head. Still did. No matter what she said, she was still a nun in his eyes, and kissing her was just wrong. Yet it had felt too damn right, and that pissed him off. He needed distance, and he figured if she was mad at him, then he’d have a better chance of achieving that. Because if she stared up at him one more time with those big, beautiful, brown doe eyes, there’s no telling what he’d do to her next time.

  Against his better judgment, Candy had convinced him to back off a bit and give her sister a few hours of peace. It was broad daylight, and she was at her clinic. Candy had promised him that her sister had the sense to use the new locks he’d installed, and he’d assumed she would call for a ride when she was ready. However, Candy had just informed him Cece had been planning on walking here when she was finished at her clinic. The crazy fool didn’t have a sensible bone in her petite body. It was dark out. A killer was still on the loose. And someone kept taking potshots at her.

  “I hate to admit it,” Candy broke through his thoughts, “but I think you might be right.”

  Ace stopped walking and locked gazes with her. What he saw made his blood run cold: doubt, worry, and fear. “Something’s wrong,” he said, and a second later, he shot out the front door, the screen door slamming shut behind him.

  He was about to jump in his truck when he heard a noise not far away. He looked in that direction, and his stomach dropped, his heart slamming into his throat. “Stop, police!” he screamed, drawing his gun and pointing it at the dark figure dragging a limp body toward the woods. They were too far away to make out who the body belonged to, but his gut told him he already knew. He might not be a religious man, but he prayed to God he wasn’t too late.

  The dark figure dropped the limp body and bolted into the woods. Ace sheathed his weapon, whipped out his cell phone, and broke into a sprint as he called the attack in along the way. He shoved the phone in his pocket as he reached the body. His hands shook as he dropped to his knees, instinctively knowing the attacker was long gone. He hovered over her, close to her face but afraid to move her until the paramedics arrived.

  “Cece, baby, can you hear me?” he asked, trying not to let his emotions show through the tone of his voice. He had to stay strong so he could help her.

  She didn’t stir.

  He gently lifted her long, glorious hair off her face, smoothing his fingertips over her dirty, tear-stained cheek and had to fight back tears of his own. He let his fingertips trail down to her throat and held his breath as he felt for a pulse. He closed his eyes, and intense relief swept over him. She was alive. Her pulse was actually strong and steady, but judging by the dark bruises already forming on her neck, the attacker had obviously strangled her long enough to get her to pass out. Then the person must have wanted to drag her into the woods to finish the job.

  Anger replaced Ace’s sadness as he lifted his gaze to the dark woods. He would find out who was responsible, and he would make that person pay if it was the last thing he ever did. The thought of anyone preying on the weakness of others instilled fury within him. It was one of the reason’s he’d become a cop to begin with. The fact that this had happened to Cece made it that much worse. His sole job was to keep her safe, and he’d failed miserably.

  “Dammit!” he said, dropping his chin to his chest and shaking his head.

  “Honestly, Detective, must you?” came a weak voice that was music to his ears.

  “Cece? Oh my God, Cece,” he said with a hitch in his voice, anger be damned. He lowered his head close to hers and searched her face. She was alive, and that was all that mattered to him right now. “I’m so sorry, baby.” He felt his eyes well up.

  “It’s okay, Ace.” She lifted her hand to his face and cupped his cheek until he looked her in the eye. “I’m okay.”

  “Did he …” He lifted his head, letting his gaze trail down her body, assessing every detail.

  “No,” she quickly reassured him, pulling him back down to her by holding onto the lapels of his sport coat. “I’m a bit bruised, my head feels like an elephant stepped on it, and my throat is sore, but I’ll live, thanks to you.” His gaze met hers once more, and she surprised the hell out of him by softly kissing him on the lips. “Thank you.”

  He cupped her face in his hands and, right or wrong, kissed her again, firmer this time. Careful not to hurt her, he pulled away and said, “If anything had happened to you, I couldn’t live with myself.”

  “But it didn’t.” She reached out and held his hand.

  He stared down at her tiny palm cradled in his much larger one. “But if I had done my job, this wouldn’t have happened.”

  She squeezed gently. “Yes, it would because I was too stubborn to listen to reason.”

  His gaze met hers as the sirens grew louder and the paramedics arrived. “Does that mean—”

  “Yes, Detective,” she said, and a bit of the spunk he’d never admit he adored entered her stubborn eyes as she let go of his hand. “I’m still not going to tell you what was said in the confessional, but I am ready to listen to you regarding my safety.”

  He relaxed for the first time since seeing her so helpless and tried to keep the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth from showing as he asked, “What exactly does that mean, Sister?”

  “Let’s just call a truce of sorts,” she answered matter-of-factly. “You keep me safe, and we work together on solving this case.”

  He didn’t like the idea of her being anywhere near this case, but he also didn’t like the idea of her being out of his sight after what had just happened. “I can live with that under one condition,” he finally said.

  “What exactly does that mean, Detective?” she mimicked his words.

  “I’m in charge. No arguments. Think you can handle that?”

  “Yes sir, boss.” She saluted him, but the satisfactory grin that spread across her face as the paramedics carted her away told him loud and clear he wasn’t the one in charge at all. She’d somehow gotten exactly what she wanted, and he’d just been played.

  Episode 6

  Chapter 11

  “Let’s go,” Ace said to Cece on Tuesday morning at 9:00 a.m. the second she opened her door. He’d spoken a little more harshly than he’d intended after her sweet honeysuckle scent had drifted to his nose, hitting him square in the gut.

  She looked so little, with all five feet of her standing there in a black warm-up suit. He smiled on the inside over the hot pink stripe running down the sides of the suit, echoed in the pink painted on her nails. She still had a difficult time dressing in color, no matter how hard her sister tried to modernize her, but she did seem to love her pink nail polish. Ace adored that about her. His smile vanished, however, when he took in the dark bruising along her neck and on the side of her cheek, reminding him of just how frail and weak she really was.

  “Well, hello to you too, Detective.” She sounded tired. “I just got home. Can’t I take one day to recuperate?”

  “Hi, and no.” He stuck to his guns, no matter how much he might want to give in, cradle her in his arms, and shut out the world until the killer was caught.

  He’d learned the hard way that he couldn’t keep her safe all by himself, and her grandmother and sister had promised him they’d never let him forget it. They hadn’t let him see her since the attack, and it had killed him wondering if things would be different after their second kiss. Goddamn, but that woman got under his skin something fierce! He’d tried to chalk it up to emotions running high, nothing more, but that hadn’t been working out so well for him. Had she blown the kiss off as well, or was it getting to her too? It was hard to know exactly what she was feeling at times.

  He studied her as he continued. “You had Sunday night in the hospital and Monday at your grandmother’s. I don’t want you home alone until you learn how to defend yourself.” He needed to know she would be
okay with or without him, because there was no way he would survive if he had to go through another ordeal like that again.

  “I agreed to let you be my bodyguard and keep me safe, Detective.” She shot him a serious look, staring straight into his eyes as she added, “Nothing more.”

  Well, that answered that. It would be business as usual between them, he thought in relief, yet a small part of him felt off. They’d both agreed anything romantic between them wouldn’t be a good idea, but dammit, that didn’t mean her response didn’t sting a little. He reminded himself he couldn’t afford to dwell on that right now. Emotions were the reason he’d let down his guard around her in the first place, and look what had happened.

  Disaster.

  “I do, however, agree that learning self-defense is a good idea for any woman, but don’t you think you’re overreacting a bit on this sense of urgency?” she went on.

  “The guy who attacked you wasn’t some random mugger. He didn’t try to steal anything, and he could have killed you immediately if he’d wanted to. If I hadn’t gotten there when I did, he would have succeeded at dragging you into the woods. Who the hell knows what he would have done to you?” Ace shoved his hands into his pockets, taking a moment before he continued. His gaze met hers, and he tried like hell to instill the seriousness of the situation. “We can’t rule out that this incident wasn’t related to the senator’s murder. Remember, there’s someone out there who is going to great lengths to make sure you don’t talk. And since we both know that isn’t likely to happen, you’re stuck with me. I’m in charge, remember?”

  She blew out a breath, and he could see the resignation in her big brown eyes. “Let me grab my bag.” She disappeared for a moment and returned with a simple, practical sling bag. Opening the empty bag, she slipped her house keys, lip balm, tissues, a basic cell phone, and little else inside.

 

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