Ever since the fiasco at Grayson’s winter barbecue, I haven’t been able to stomach the smell or sight of meat. So I may as well make a commitment and go the whole way. Good, healthy food takes up so much more room in the cart. Done with the produce, I move to the aisle with grains and legumes. I’ll do a cleanse for a few days, clear out the toxins, and reboot. A late New Year’s resolution.
As I wait in line, the guy in front of me turns around. With his dark hair and hazel eyes, he reminds me of Benicio del Toro, whom I find incredibly sexy. There’s a faded scar at the corner of his eye.
“You can go ahead. I forgot a couple of things.”
“There’s still someone in front of us. I can hold your place if you want to go grab it.” And as I look at him, my heart stops. Something about him looks familiar. Or is it that I’m getting totally paranoid? Then I relax. Of course he looks familiar. He could be brother to one of my favorite actors.
“That’s okay.” He leaves the line as I watch him go. He turns the corner and I jump. The sporting goods store. I’m sure I saw him there the other day when I was buying ammo. In the parking lot, I linger, looking for a glimpse of him. Wait ten minutes in the car, watching the doors. But no sign of him. Maybe I was wrong. I’m overly tired and my mind’s playing tricks on me.
Two days later I hear the news. Standing in Starbucks waiting to order a chai tea, I catch the conversation of two men standing in line. They’re talking about a powerful politician. How sad it was that a child reared in such a loving environment could turn out so terribly. And I know it’s Henry Allen James.
I suck in a breath. The photograph. It was the senator with him. How do they know each other? The senator is on the news coming out against dog fighting and animal cruelty. Calling for tougher penalties.
He protests too much. The damning photograph leads me to believe they are connected. Somehow the senator isn’t as good as he makes out. Love or money? I’m going with money. I may not know what the connection is, but I’ll be digging. He must be certain no one will connect him to the boy.
I have no proof, only a feeling. And I will bet every cent in my savings account the photo has been removed from the house.
“What has the world come to when you can’t even sit in your car enjoying a joint?”
The other guy laughs. “They’re saying a homeowner swore it a drug dealer who stole their precious dog to use as a bait dog. Maybe they did it.”
The guys pay for their coffee. “I have nightmares I have a heart attack while I’m on the toilet. When the cops find me, it’s with a turd hanging halfway out my ass.”
“Man, you’re harshing my mellow. A man’s bathroom is sacred. Now you’ll give me nightmares.”
They continue on, but the rest flows around me like water around rocks in the river. How is a powerful politician connected to a guy from Holloway Avenue?
I hand over cash for my tea.
“I love your bracelet.”
“Thanks.”
I added the thirteenth charm this morning. Galaxy. Like I’ve come full circle. Almost time to pick out another bracelet; this one will be full soon. Happy music plays through the speakers as I leave. On the way home, paranoia takes over. I swear someone’s following me. But every time I glance in the mirrors, I don’t see a car standing out. The turn for my complex comes up. I keep going. Stomp on the gas and blow through a red light, horns honking in my wake.
I should’ve known this day would come. But I always thought it would be the cops or the feds knocking on my door. One thing I’ve learned? Trust my feelings. Be extra cautious until I can figure out if someone is really following me. And why? A family member out for revenge? Or something else?
The feeling of being hunted has me lying low for almost a month. I haven’t seen anyone, haven’t had the feeling again. Coincidence. Paranoia. Who knows? It’s time for a change. Where should I go? Home to Gram?
Sleep is calling me. I’ll think about it tomorrow.
The ringing of the phone wakes me. A wavering voice on the other end.
“Katherine?”
“It’s me.” Sweat beads on my upper lip. My heart beating fast. I’m sitting straight up, gripping the phone tight against my ear.
“This is Ruth.” Gram’s best friend.
“What’s happened?” My legs give way as I climb out of bed. The phone’s cradled between my shoulder and ear as I strain to hear.
“Oh, honey. Julia was putting together a care package of her famous honeysuckle jelly to mail to you when it happened. They said it was a blood clot in her brain. She didn’t suffer. It was very fast.”
“Thank you for telling me. I’ll book the next flight out.”
She tells me the details of the funeral, and I write them down though I don’t know what I’m writing. We hang up and I sit there. She’s gone.
I’m all alone in the world. Gram was my tether to this world. Now the string has been snipped, and like a balloon tossed by the wind, I float aimlessly.
The day turns to night. My stomach feels hollow. As I’m rummaging through the cabinets, I see it. A single jar of honeysuckle jelly. Cradling it to my chest, I sink to the kitchen floor, rocking back and forth, sobbing.
Gram’s funeral is held on the first day of spring. Time for new beginnings. As for me…with my only link to the normal world gone, I’m free to embrace the dark. I unlocked the door and threw away the key. Let it have free rein.
At the cemetery I catch a glimpse of a guy with dark hair. And for a few heart-stopping moments I think I will die where I stand. But when I look again, he’s gone. My mind’s been playing tricks on me lately. It’s becoming harder and harder to distinguish between what’s real and what’s not.
The black sedan takes me to the lawyer’s office. Crushing guilt at pushing her away eats through me. Time I can never get back. I only spoke to her a few times since Christmas. In the lawyer’s office, he goes through her will. Horrible thoughts ping around in my head. Was Gram’s death the cost of my actions?
“She left some small bequests to her church and charities. And to a few animal rights organizations. Take anything you want from the inside of the house. The rest will be donated. Groups are scheduled to come and collect whatever you don’t want over the next week. She didn’t want you to have to deal with it.”
“She always said after Gramps passed that she didn’t want anyone to have to worry over her.” I blow my nose as he smiles kindly at me. Kindness I don’t deserve.
“The car is going to charity and the house to Ruth. Julia always talked about Ruth’s kids not having anything to do with her. She’ll move in at the end of next week, if that’s all right with you?”
“Of course. She was Gram’s best friend. I know she’ll be happy there.
Gram understood after all. By leaving money to the animal rights groups, it’s her way of telling me. I wipe tears away. The lawyer’s saying something and there’s a long pause. I look up to see he’s waiting for my response.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t listening.”
“It’s a lot to take in. She left the rest of her estate to you. Three and a half million dollars.”
“I had no idea. She never lived like she had a lot of money. I always knew they were comfortable, but I had no clue.”
“You can do whatever you want in this life. But I know it’s a small consolation for losing someone you love.”
My throat closes. I can’t answer. Instead I simply nod. He goes through the rest of the details and I try to listen. Sensing I’m losing it, he tells me he’ll have his secretary write everything up and have it messengered to Gram’s house the day after tomorrow.
Gram’s heart broke when Gramps died. She said she would hang on for me. And I feel like somehow I let her down. I finally understand what she meant when she said she was uninterested in life, even though I think she lived the best life she could after losing a man she’d loved since she was a teenager. They met in high school, fell in love, and were the happiest couple
I’ve ever seen. A true fairytale romance. A once-in-a-lifetime thing.
With her loss I feel like I’ve been thrown overboard. Trying to keep my head above the waves during a storm, tossed endlessly over and over, desperately trying to reach solid ground.
Deep in my heart I know I’ll never find someone like she did. If you don’t love anyone, you can’t get hurt, whispers the voice.
With Ruth’s help, I pack up a few things and help her get settled. She invites me to stay but I can’t. It hurts too much.
Standing in line to check out at Walmart, I see a blond guy with his back to me. He’s showing the security guard a photo. And I recognize it because I recognize the twisted tree at my apartment complex. I’m standing in front of the tree in the picture. The security guard is shaking his head, but I know now I’ve been so very wrong.
It’s time to leave. I abandon the cart and make my way toward the doors. When the man turns to talk to one of the cashiers, I run through the doors. Once I’m back home, I barely make it inside before I throw up. What am I going to do? And exactly how many people are after me?
CHAPTER 59
USED TO BE I ONLY had a gun with me when I was working. Now, I’m never without. In the bathroom, sleeping, even going to get the mail. My stress levels are through the roof. Who is after me? I’ve gone back and looked up obituaries, searching for family members who may have found out about me. But I keep coming up empty.
There’s no media about a killer on the loose, so that rules out cops. Feds? Doesn’t matter. I’m out. After numerous searches and calls, I get lucky.
“Most of our homes are already rented. But you’re in luck. With this being the shoulder season, there’s one small cottage available. It’s rather remote. But it’s available now and you can have it until the first of July. I know it’s a large chunk of time, but they really would prefer to rent to one person for the full time. It’s why it’s still available. So why don’t we say if you come now, I’ll give you the rest of April for half price. Will that work?”
“That would be perfect. Is it a problem to pay cash?”
There’s a pause on the line and then the woman with the cheerful voice says brightly, “I think that will work just fine.”
“I’ll be there in two days.”
Now I just have to figure out how to leave and get to the cottage without either of my followers knowing.
I spend the morning preparing to leave. I run into Grayson on my way back from throwing out a bunch of stuff I won’t need where I’m going.
“Guess what? We caught the dog.” The grin on his face is infectious.
“No way. You finally caught the ghost sheepdog?”
He grins. “Got him.”
“I hoped he’d stay free. Live life on his own terms.”
“Dogs aren’t human. You can’t give them human emotions.”
“You’re right. They aren’t human. Sometimes they’re much smarter than us.”
When Grayson smiles, the lines at the corner of his eyes crinkle. “Touché, Miss Jones. Yep, we finally caught him. Though I really can’t take any credit.”
“Why not?”
He laughs. “Ashley, the little girl, was playing in the backyard when the dog sat down beside her. When her mother looked outside, she saw Ashley and the dog having a tea party.”
I can’t help it—I burst out laughing. “The dog was having a tea party?”
“We should’ve thought of it sooner. Apparently he likes cookies and apple juice.” He’s wearing his work uniform, sunglasses pushed up on his head. When he talks to someone he always removes them. One of the many things I like about him. I will miss him.
“So what? He just came to you?”
“He was curled up next to the little girl sound asleep, all four feet in the air. I think he overdosed on cookies and was slow to get up—that’s the only reason we were able to catch him.”
“Or maybe he was ready to quit living life on the run. So what’s going to happen to him?”
It was about a year ago I moved in here. Met Grayson. Turned my life upside down. We walk over to the chairs by the pool and sit down to catch up.
“No one claimed him. Once he was checked out and cleaned up, the family decided to adopt him.” He looks off into the distance as if remembering, and for a moment I wish I can be as carefree as he looks.
“It was the darnedest thing—when we brought the dog out and he saw the little girl, he ran over to her and rolled over at her feet. When they left, she tied a big bonnet on his head. Told him he was getting a bubble bath with her princess shampoo when they got home.”
For the first time in a long time, my face hurts, and it takes me a moment to figure out it’s because I’m smiling. And then I laugh. Grayson does too.
“So a happy ending?”
He gives me a funny look. “You know, Hope, there are plenty of happy stories out there. For some reason you focus on the bad. We have to keep educating people, helping them understand. People can change. Even ghosts can change.” He holds my gaze. “Ghost dogs, that is.”
He is so wonderfully naïve. Maybe it’s because he’s young or was simply built that way. I don’t know.
“That’s the difference between you and I. Deep down, you really believe people are good.” I sit there, jiggling my foot, staring into the pool, remembering every single case I closed. “The thing is, people aren’t good. People are monsters hiding behind the fragile veneer of humanity.”
“You’ve gotten so cynical since I’ve known you.” He’s trying to lighten the mood, but I’m not interested.
“No, I haven’t really changed. I’ve always been a realist.” I put my hand on his forearm, feeling the muscle beneath my fingertips. “I’m glad you’re an optimist. Happy you believe there’s good in people. Because if you saw the world the way I did, you wouldn’t want to go on.”
There are bags and boxes all around me as I stand in my apartment, looking around. I decide to take personal things like my clothes and toiletries and the hope chest. But the rest? The rest I’m leaving. Shedding like a snake sheds its skin. Everything here no longer fits me.
I call a local charity. They’re more than happy to come and pick everything up. And I know it will go to good use.
As I’m taking the last of the bags down to my car, I see Grayson coming out of the gym.
“Are you leaving? You didn’t say anything this morning.”
“I accepted a job with a small electric co-op in the mountains.” Liar. There’s no mountains. No job. He’s safer not knowing where I’m really going.
“Change is good. I’m waiting to hear about my transfer to Asheville. Is that where you’re going?”
“No. A small town on the edge of the Pisgah National Forest.”
“We always seem to run into each other. Who knows—maybe we’ll see each other again.”
“Maybe. So how goes it with the health nut girlfriend?”
Grayson chuckles. “She’s good. Though I’ve had to sneak my favorite Chinese when she’s not around.”
I hug him goodbye. “Take care of yourself and be good to that girl. She seems like a keeper.”
His breath is warm against my ear. “I’m glad you’ve found another job. You seem happier. Take care of yourself.”
Seeing him happy makes me smile, believe maybe not everyone in this world is awful. Grayson’s one of the good guys. I wish him a long and happy life full of love and laughter.
CHAPTER 60
GRAYSON HAD TAKEN MELANIE TO the park that morning. They’d gone for a jog and were sitting on a blanket, content to be together. A puppy ran through the middle of the blanket. It was a golden retriever with a fat belly. He heard a little girl calling out. Must be her dog. He scooped up the puppy and strode over.
The puppy wriggled to get down, running to the girl, licking her face as she giggled and laughed. He caught the look on Melanie’s face. She’d said the other day, “If you ever want to know what joy sounds like, just listen to
a child laugh.” He couldn’t agree more.
“Thank you. Zeus got away and I didn’t know where he went.”
“Zeus, huh? That’s a pretty big name for such a little guy.”
The little girl wrinkled her nose. “I know, right? But my new brother insisted. I wanted to name him Francis Doodlebug.”
Grayson threw back his head and laughed. Saw Melanie watching him. Could tell by the look on her face she was picturing him as a dad. He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that. Not sure if he was ready.
“Where are your parents?”
The little girl pointed over to a set of swings. “My nanny’s over there. We’re here visiting my new grandparents. I never had grandparents before. They have soft skin and always carry candy in their pockets.” She waved to a woman, who smiled back.
The kid had a picture in her hand. Grayson knelt down, the grass itching his bare legs. “What are you coloring?”
She looked up at him with big blue eyes. “It’s the angel who saved me from the monster. And now I have a new family and a new brother. I always wanted a big brother.”
His breath caught in his throat as he pointed. “What’s that?”
The figure of the angel had a long line running down her arm. It was drawn in a different color, so he assumed it was important, not a coloring mistake.
“It’s her flaming sword.” The little girl shook her head, her blond curls bouncing.
Grayson couldn’t breathe. He’d seen that scar before. She said she’d gotten it in a car accident when her parents died.
“Is that a scar on the angel’s arm?” He pointed to his own arm, making a jagged line.
The little girl scrunched up her nose, thinking. “Angels don’t have scars. It was definitely a sword. It comes out of her arm and turns into a sword on fire when she’s vanquishing the monsters. The angel said she was a monster that hid in kid’s closets, but I knew the truth.”
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