Whisper of Revenge (A Cape Trouble Novel Book 4)
Page 4
She didn’t move. He wasn’t sure she even breathed. Lips slightly parted, she simply looked up at him.
“Hannah,” he said hoarsely.
She swallowed.
Christ. He couldn’t do this. Not now, and not here. Especially not here. He was painfully conscious they stood in the alley between the backs of stores on each side, and in daylight. Anyone could come out.
Anyone could be watching.
That was a thought to cool the heat in his bloodstream.
“I might see you in the morning.” He backed away, shoving his hands into the kangaroo pocket of his sweatshirt. “Have a good night.”
She still didn’t move, just kept staring. What was probably a couple of seconds stretched, until suddenly she took a step back, too, banging into the side of her Toyota. “I must be late. Why am I still standing here? Thank you. Um…bye.”
She leaped in, slammed the door and fired up the engine. He came close to being sideswiped by her mirror as she backed out of the space.
And then he was left alone in the alley as she drove away.
Or was she fleeing?
*****
“Oh, my God.” Shaking, Hannah clutched the steering wheel as several people scuttled across the street in front of her, tossing annoyed or wary looks over their shoulders. She had almost hit two people. And, yes, they’d stepped out into the street without looking, but they did have a crosswalk. And she hadn’t been looking, either.
Nobody was behind her, so she waited long enough to regain a semblance of composure before looking carefully to each side and turning left onto Main Street.
Elias kissed me. The giddy knowledge kept running through her head. He did. He kissed me.
Uh huh. On the cheek. Gently, comfortingly. And then she’d stood there gaping. She hadn’t felt all the agonies of a teenager when she was one, but now...
Hannah groaned. Thank heavens she wasn’t far from Not a Bit of Trouble Daycare, where she left Ian every morning. She knew he was basically happy here, but they were both looking forward to the start of kindergarten this fall.
The deadline for parents to pick up their kids was six, and she pulled up with only five minutes to spare. Ian erupted into her arms the minute she stepped in the door.
“I thought you were never coming!”
Crouching, she gave him a big squeeze. “Have I ever not picked you up?”
He giggled. “No, but you’re late.”
“I know I am.” She kissed his freckled cheek and rose to her feet. After thanking Jolene, the daycare director, she and Ian walked out, hand in hand.
Skipping, he said, “I bet Jack-Jack is worried, too, ’cuz we’re late.”
Jack-Jack had probably been too busy chewing up shoes and dish towels and chair legs to notice his people were a few minutes late. Hannah could only pray their elderly next-door neighbor didn’t decide to rescind her offer to puppy-sit during the day. Jack-Jack, named for the boy in one of Ian’s favorite movies, The Incredibles, had made some progress on the potty-training front, but it was slow going. Or fast going, on Hannah’s part. She was constantly snatching him up and racing for the back door. Edna, she knew, wasn’t anywhere near as quick, which undoubtedly meant more accidents.
At least Ian had been dissuaded from naming the poor puppy Hiccup, after the dragon in How to Train Your Dragon, his number one favorite movie. It was actually Hannah’s favorite, too, of the animated films that he watched over and over and over, but the name seemed undignified for a dog.
Even before she’d closed the garage door at home, Ian raced across the lawn to Edna’s. Seeing his energy and joy smoothed the jagged edges of her own mood. Ian was everything important to her. She would never understand why Grady didn’t feel the same. Part of her was grateful – shared custody would have meant losing so much time with Ian. But it hurt answering his questions about why he never saw his dad. She saw how he looked at the fathers who picked up and dropped off their kids at the daycare, the fathers snapping photos at the birthday parties Ian attended.
Jerk, she thought. But he was busy with his three-year-old daughter, and Ian had told her recently after talking to his dad on the phone that Grady’s wife was pregnant again. Hearing how subdued Ian sounded, Hannah wanted to kill her ex-husband. She wondered sometimes whether he would have felt different if Ian had looked more like him and less like her – but thinking that stung on a different level. Nice to know he had rejected her so thoroughly, he’d had to include the son who carried her genes.
By the time she reached her neighbor’s front porch, Jack-Jack had spilled out to wrestle on the front lawn with Ian. The puppy yapped nonstop and Ian giggled as he rolled on the grass. Edna, who had to be seventy-five if she was a day, stood on the porch smiling.
“Oh, to be young again!”
Hannah had to laugh. “No kidding.”
She listened to tales of Jack-Jack’s exploits – he’d only peed on the floor twice, and all he’d destroyed was an oven mitt Edna had carelessly dropped while she was baking. She sounded indulgent. Hannah had to hug her, even as she made a mental note to buy her a new oven mitt tomorrow.
Her neighbor’s kindness, her son’s exuberance and the boundless enthusiasm of the plump, soft, wriggly puppy ensured she was no longer thinking about Elias by the time she let them all into their own house. She had everything she needed right here.
Her eye fell on the puppy, who seized the shoulder strap of Ian’s small pack and started a tug-of-war game. Maybe she had more than she needed right here, thanks to the faceless man whose next move had her lying awake nights, chest heavy with dread.
CHAPTER THREE
The surveillance camera was supposed to be installed today, thank goodness. Hannah knew it wouldn’t be a complete solution, but at least she could quit worrying about what she’d find on her alley doorstep. Nobody in their right mind would expect to get away unnoticed with leaving anything out front; Cape Trouble might not have a very active nightlife, but restaurants and a brew pub on Schooner Street kept it busy until ten or later. Hannah knew the chef at the Sea Watch Café across the street arrived as early as five in the morning to start baking for the day and to be ready to serve breakfast. The police patrolled regularly because the town’s high-end shops were all located on Schooner Street, including a jeweler and several art galleries.
As she turned down the alley, it did cross her mind that her secret admirer might not be in his right mind. But behaving strangely didn’t mean he was crazy, for heaven’s sake! A little strange wasn’t the same thing at all. The camera being installed here would surely send a message.
Air whooshed out of her when she saw the bare concrete steps. Nothing again today. She hadn’t even known she was holding her breath.
It had been four days since she had talked to Chief Colburn at Elias’s instigation. Maybe that had sent a message. Over a week since the puppy with the big blue bow.
Why hadn’t whoever was doing this to her identified himself?
She unclenched her jaw and got out, unlocking the back door as usual before starting to unload the trays of fudge and truffles. Sales had been especially good this week, either because tourist season was picking up or because locals were intrigued by the gossip and stopping by more often. Buying something gave them an approved excuse for being there.
“Morning, Hannah.”
The man’s voice had her jerking around, even though she’d identified it within seconds. Garn Ketchum owned the sporting goods store on her block. Garn was around her age, but married, which ruled him out. Didn’t it?
Rumor had it that Garn, who had grown up in Cape Trouble, had played minor league baseball but, to his everlasting regret, was never called up to the majors. Even making it that far gave him star status locally, though. Still lean and athletic, he coached baseball at the high school.
Garn had come by in the last week to buy a cup of coffee and give her advice on obedience training her new puppy. At least he’d tried to be helpful.
As she filled in the empty places in the display cases, she caught herself glancing through the windows at the street. Blurred by fog, headlights appeared and disappeared, with it hard to make out the shape of the cars themselves. No one was parked right in front of Sweet Ideas yet. A few walkers passed in front of the store, all wearing hooded coats against the chill and damp. Tourists who came in June expecting only sunshine were destined for disappointment.
Hannah knew she was watching for Elias. He’d stopped by twice since he had walked her out to her car that day, but his visits had been during open hours. The most personal he’d gotten was to ask whether she was following his advice about not closing by herself. Which she’d done all but one day.
At two minutes to nine, she gave up hope of seeing him and went to her office to stow her purse, which she had earlier dropped on a table inside the bookstore. With no window in the cramped office, she had to turn on the overheard fluorescent light.
A book was propped between the keyboard and monitor. Strange, she didn’t remember bringing one in here. Maybe Stephanie, her other part-time employee who mostly covered the bookstore had been searching for books on similar subjects…
But the lurch in Hannah’s chest told her Stephanie didn’t have anything to do with this. The title jumped out at her – Surviving Infidelity. Against a pastel background showing a couple, the words “Surviving Infidelity” had been circled in red marker, a slashing stroke that looked…angry.
Breathing shallowly, she reached out a tentative forefinger and touched the red. It smeared. The tip of her finger was now red. In her fevered imagination, the stain looked like blood.
Her head turned wildly. The doorway was still empty. She couldn’t hear a sound. But the ink had to be fresh…
No. She struggled to calm herself. The slick cover of the trade paperback guaranteed the ink wouldn’t set. It probably wasn’t permanent marker. She might be able to wipe the color off entirely and put the book back on the shelf.
Had it come from a shelf in her store?
She didn’t want to touch the computer, so she rushed out to look at the case holding books that fell within the social sciences. Yes, there was a gap the right size in the section that included books on things like recovering intimacy in a marriage. Surviving Infidelity must have been there for a while. She didn’t remember having to restock it or order a different title on the same subject.
Feeling shaky, she went to the phone beside the cash register and called the police station. Ellie Fitzgerald put her right through to Daniel Colburn, who must work ridiculous hours to be in this early.
When she explained, he said, “Don’t touch anything, I’ll be right there,” and disconnected before she could explain that it was too late, she had already touched.
She was late unlocking, but Elias had told her to call if anything else happened. She hesitated then reached for the sticky note on the back side of the short counter.
He answered right away. “Hannah?”
“Yes, it’s me. I…you said you wanted to know if I had any more gifts.”
“What is it this time?” he asked with unmistakable urgency.
“It’s not exactly a present.” Well, that was wishy-washy. “It isn’t a present,” she said more firmly. Once again, she described the book, the red marking, the placement. “Daniel won’t be happy, because I touched it to make sure the red wasn’t part of the original cover art. But it’s still sort of wet feeling, and—” She squeezed her eyes shut.
“And?”
“It made me think of blood.”
“Damn it, Hannah. I’ll be there as quick as I can.”
“Daniel is on his way. There’s no reason for you to—”
“The hell there isn’t,” he snapped, and was gone.
She was embarrassed at the rush of relief.
A glance at the clock had her hurrying to the front of the store to turn the sign to Open and unlock. At the door on the sweets side she found a customer peering in.
“Oh, thank goodness!” Cheryl Sizemore said as soon as she popped in. “I didn’t see you, and was afraid something was wrong.”
“No, no.” Hannah managed a smile. “Just laggardly this morning.”
The manager of a gift shop/gallery in the next block, The Sandpiper, Cheryl was a regular here. Both members of the Downtown Merchants Association, they were friendly acquaintances more than friends, partly because Cheryl was close to fifty and her kids had flown the nest. She had once told Hannah with a laugh, “I’m almost ready for grandkids.”
By the time Hannah had her coffee ready, a short line had formed. Out of breath and apologizing, Alice blew in ten minutes late – just ahead of Daniel Colburn.
Hannah poured him a cup of coffee, insisted it was on the house when he started to pull out his wallet, and told Alice she had something quick to discuss with him. Then she led him back to the office.
Not quite handsome, he was still the kind of man who any woman would look at twice. Mid- to late-thirties, he had recently married Sophie Thomsen, who’d arrived in Cape Trouble just over a year ago to spearhead the Save Misty Beach auction and campaign. Hannah and Sophie had become good friends. Sophie was currently coordinating a fundraising campaign to expand services to housebound seniors in Tillamook County. She was also five and a half months pregnant.
With his sharp blue eyes, Daniel contemplated the book. “The ink is smeared.”
“I’m afraid that was me.” Hannah explained, holding up her forefinger. She’d taken a minute to try to wash off the red, but a trace still remained.
“Is the book from your stock?”
“Yes.”
“Somebody could have grabbed it yesterday while you were open.”
She became conscious she was wringing her hands together. “Yes, they could have.”
Now that penetrating gaze focused on her. “Could this have been set up before you left last night?”
“No.” This was the scary part. Correction: one of the scary parts. “The last thing I always do is take my purse out of that drawer.” She pointed at the bottom one on the desk. “There’s no way I missed seeing the book.”
He scrutinized her face, making her glad she wasn’t trying to hide anything. Daniel Colburn had to be a master interrogator.
“Could somebody have been hiding in the store?”
“I want to say no, but…” She hesitated. “I didn’t look into the stock room. And the bathroom door stood partly open, like it is now. Somebody could have been standing behind it.” Could her secret admirer, who was not in his right mind, have been that close to her when she thought she was alone in the store? What if he had suddenly stepped out—? A shudder traveled through her.
“Elias has been nagging me not to close alone, but yesterday Stephanie had to leave a little early to pick up her daughter after softball practice.”
Deepening lines on the police chief’s face were not reassuring. “I’m going to have one of my officers here at closing until we resolve this,” he said.
“The thing is…” Hannah’s fingernails bit into her palms. “If he was hiding in here, how did he get out and manage to lock behind himself?”
Daniel’s very stillness was a reaction. “You’re positive all three doors were locked.”
“Yes.” Oh, God. “Yes.”
“Then you need to get a locksmith here. Today.”
“I’ll call right away.”
Sympathy softened a hard face, but it was Elias she wanted here, not Daniel. She held onto the knowledge that he was on his way. He’d promised.
*****
Elias circled his Land Rover. Son of a bitch. Four flat tires. Instead of mere punctures, slashes had done the job. Fury rose in him. The message wasn’t subtle. Keep away from Hannah. He gritted his teeth. The hell he would.
Yanking his phone from his pocket, he called the tire store, and was promised a technician would arrive with four new tires within the hour. Then he called Colburn, who listened in silence before saying, “Son of a bitch.”
“Took the words out of my mouth,” Elias said dryly.
“You were on your way to town?”
“Yes, the bookstore.”
“Can you stop by the station and file a report later today? And have the tires dropped off at the police station, too. He probably didn’t touch them with his bare hands, but you never know. One of my officers can fingerprint.” His voice became muffled. He came back to say, “I’m still with Hannah. She says she’s fine, do what you have to.”
“Tell her I’ll be by once I’m mobile again.”
After ending the call, he got to wondering whether there was any chance the vandal had screwed with the engine. When he got in and turned the key as a test, the Land Rover started with no hesitation.
Tamping down his anger, Elias went inside the house where it was warmer to wait. Too restless to sit, he stood in front of the big window, seeing the gray day and his SUV sitting lower to the ground than it ought to be. As if he had double vision, he saw a shadowy figure slipping through the night, approaching so near to his house. Had the intruder done what he planned and left as quickly as possible? Or would he have taken secret pleasure by peering in windows, even silently turned doorknobs to see if he could slip inside?
The slideshow in his head raised Elias’s hackles. This was the man who had his sights on Hannah. The threat Elias had sensed was all too real.
He was wound tight by the time the truck with the tire store logo on the sides lumbered down his driveway and stopped beside his Land Rover. Elias had dug a couple pairs of gloves out of a box in his coat closet and carried them out. The middle-aged man nodded his understanding of why he needed to wear them.
He walked once around the car surveying the damage, then shook his head. “Somebody doesn’t like you.”