BLINDED (Elkridge Series Book 1)

by Lyz Kelley

  Gina sat calm and cool while the world erupted around her. Joey stopped inches from the huffing and puffing woman gripping the sides of her chair and squinting her eyes. Mara tilted her head back, most likely wondering why they had stopped. He didn’t want to explain they’d reached their destination because he’d have to let her go, and didn’t want to. To have Mara’s head inches from his chin, her body cradled in his arms, her arms wrapped around his neck felt amazing. So good, he hesitated another second before releasing her legs.

  “Gina?” Mara reached out.

  “I’m having a baby. Where the hell is the asshole who did this to me?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Gina took Mara’s hand in a crushing grip.

  “Tony will be here soon,” Mara said gently. “You just need to hold on.”

  She had no idea where Tony was, but she’d do or say whatever was necessary to keep Gina calm. The nearest hospital was forty minutes away, thirty if Tony drove. She could feel the heat of concerned bodies forming a semicircle around her sister-in-law. “Breathe, Gina. You’ve got to breathe.”

  Mad Jack suddenly appeared at her side. “Gina? Describe your contractions.”

  “Four, maybe five minutes. Sharp.” Gina groaned.

  Mad Jack, the town’s search and rescue coordinator, carried a first aid kit complete with blood pressure monitor and other medical equipment. “Keep breathing. You’re fine. I want to make sure you’re not just experiencing prodromal labor.”

  “English, Jack. Speak English.” Gina’s growl made Mara wonder if she actually was fine. She didn’t sound fine.

  “Your doctor probably explained to you about first-timers. You wouldn’t want to travel all the way to Denver just to turn around and come back home. That would be hard on Tony.”

  “Screw Tony.”

  “Honey, we already did that.” Tony had picked the most inopportune moment to return and inject a bit of humor, but Mara had trouble stifling a snicker.

  The squeak of Joey’s shoe heightened her awareness of movement. “Hand me that beer mug, Gina,” Joey said. “You don’t need to be throwing things. You have plenty of time to bash Tony over the head later.”

  “Let’s get you up and walking,” Jack recommended, and Gina groaned again.

  “I’m going to rip this place apart if we don’t get moving toward the hospital.”

  “Yep, I’d say it’s time to go,” Jack agreed.

  Gina didn’t let go of Mara’s hand, but eased off the stool to stand. “Oh, oh, oh, here comes another one.”

  Mara could feel the straining and tightening of Gina’s muscles through the quivering tension of Gina’s hand. Not knowing what to do to help gnawed at her patience. “Tony? We need to get Gina to the van.”

  Tony placed a hand on her shoulder to let her know where he was. She leaned in and whispered, “Gina? Don’t kill my brother, even though I know you want to right now. And call me if you need me. I’ll be waiting by the phone.” She moved aside to let Tony take her place.

  The center of activity moved away, leaving her behind, like a bit of debris floating to the ground after a windstorm. An intense sadness replaced the fearful joy. She couldn’t go with them. She would be in the way. So many things she’d missed, and the birth of her nephew would be just another one to put on the pile.

  A large, gentle hand landed on her lower back, soothing the raging stream of emotions. “Are you okay?” Joey’s kind concern penetrated her dour reflections.

  “My parents are going to miss the birth of their first grandbaby.” She attempted to lighten the morose feeling with a smile but failed. “Don’t mind me. It’s been an emotional day.”

  “Let’s get you some food and take you home.”

  “Kym’s going to take me home.” You’re too tempting. “She should be around here somewhere.” She listened for her friend’s loud, high-pitched voice. It had disappeared.

  “Jack won’t let Tony drive. He’s had too much to drink, so Kym’s going to drive them to the hospital.”

  Great. My best friend gets to go, but not me. I swear someday I’m going to punch the Fate Faerie and give her a black eye. “I need to get my guitar.”

  She stretched her hands out in front of her and started toward the stage.

  The roller coaster of life never seemed to end. Up one minute, with a loop-de-loop, then a spiral around and down. She should be used to the unsettling feeling by now. But she wasn’t. The downward, belly-churning slide got faster and steeper every time.

  Wrestling into her coat, she lifted her guitar and grabbed the dinner to-go bag. Joey eased the guitar from her hand, then escorted her to the door. The walk down the street with him leading the way settled her sadness. She embraced the silence. The night’s sounds helped mollify her resentment about not going to the hospital. Mara had been prepared to stay behind and run the store until the moment when the decision became reality. She hadn’t realized how much staying behind would hurt.

  Joey led her across the street and then turned right. She slowed her normal pace to an almost- crawl, not wanting the evening to end, needing to postpone the unavoidable as long as possible. She lifted her face skyward. “The wind has picked up. That means the stars are out.”

  “Yes, they are. The Big Dipper is really bright tonight.” Joey must have glanced her way because the pattern of his footsteps changed. He moved behind her and tilted her head back against his shoulder. “There,” he whispered. “There’s the northern star.”

  Mara could almost see the constellation. She’d looked at it so many times when she had her sight. The firm support of his body holding her, almost allowed her to let go. Lean on him. She was so tired of being self-sufficient. But in a few hours, he wasn’t going to be available to prop her up. He might as well be on another planet.

  “Thank you.” She took a step out of his arms.

  “My pleasure.” He returned to her side. They walked a few minutes more before turning the corner into the alley. “Here we are. Just another few feet.”

  Another layer of disappointment heaped onto the pile. The time with him had come to an end.

  “What time is your flight tomorrow?”

  “Just after eight. I’ll be leaving before the sun’s up. I could come up for a few minutes.”

  “It’s been a long, emotional day for me, and I’m tired. But I’m glad we got to spend time together. I think it’s best to say good-bye now.” She hoped the ache in her heart didn’t suddenly show on her face. Keeping her secret hidden—the fact she didn’t want him to leave, ever—drained the rest of her emotional reserves. She swallowed a couple of times, trying to stop the loneliness from choking her.

  “Mara, if—”

  “No,” she reached a hand, aiming for his lips, but connected lightly with his jaw instead. “Oh sorry.” She slid her hand down to his chest to feel his heart beat one last time. “You have to keep your promise. No strings attached. No regrets. Remember?”

  “I should have never agreed. I’m going to miss you.” His voice held a bit of a croak that hadn’t been there before.

  “I’ll miss you too. Be sure to stop by the next time you’re in town.” She felt her brave slipping and quickly dug out the keys from her pocket to unlock the rear entrance door. Turning the key in the lock, she pushed the door open, not wanting to go in, but unable to find a reason to stand out in the cold night air.

  “I put your guitar just inside the door. And here’s your dinner.” The edge of the paper bag nudged against the palm of her hand. “Where’s Buddy?”

  “I locked him in the apartment. Lately when he gets bored, he’s been digging in the plants.”

  “Ah,” Joey said.

  The awkwardness choked off everything she wanted to say, but she had to say something. “Have a good life, Joey. Be kind to yourself,” she finally managed.

  Warm lips caressed her cheek, and the ache expanded.

  “Mara, I—”

  “Shhhh. Joey. Don’t. Please, no what-ifs
. I’m thankful for the time we shared. For the last few days, I haven’t felt so blind. That’s a wonderful gift.”

  “You’re a beautiful woman, Mara. And you’re more capable than most. I don’t see you as blind. I only see your giant can-do spirit.”

  “I’ve gotta go,” she managed through the choking heartache. “Have a good life, Joey.”

  No longer able to maintain her composure, she slipped inside and slowly closed and locked the door. Her dark world got darker. Insecurities lashed at her spirit, questioning, making her wonder whether anyone, ever, would love her.

  She pulled her arms out of the sleeves, heaved her heavy wool coat up to hang on the hooks and then placed her keys on the rack by the back door. When she leaned over to retrieve her guitar case, she heard a sound.

  “Who’s there?” A silent alarm started ringing in her head.

  “Hello, Daisy.”

  She froze. The nickname and C-range tenor tone she recognized even through the slurred words. The hard Z in Daisy and the sharp tang of bourbon spelled danger.

  Her laid-back and sometimes lazy ex-fiancé could get a bit too intense when he drank. Booze transformed stable into irrational and jealous. Add anger, and the unreasonable turned into dangerous.

  “What are you doing here, Mark?” she asked while slowly moving toward the door, hoping she could get it unlocked before he stopped her. Maybe she could get to her purse and pepper spray. She took a step back, her shoulders pressing against the light switch, turning on the upstairs apartment lights. She prayed someone would see the light and investigate, since she didn’t need light. She rarely touched the switch.

  Suddenly, he blocked her path, ending her attempt. The stench of his breath combined with alcohol choked off her air. “Don’t even try it.”

  “What do you want?” She turned her head away from his foul, rotten-egg smell before she gagged.

  “I saw you with your new boyfriend.” He leaned closer.

  Mark dined on weakness and fear. She refused to feed his desires and willed her body to ease into a calmer state. “You’re using. Drugs will kill you, Mark.” Even though she did her best to stay neutral, she heard the disappointment in her voice. “You said you had a great marketing job lined up. The plan was to go to Los Angeles, make some good money and then get your college degree. What happened?”

  “Enough questions.” He pounded the wall behind her, and she flinched. He laughed, pleased by her involuntary reaction. “I came for cash.”

  The word cash shortened her breath. The hammering of her heartbeat in her ears beat like a clock ticking away seconds.

  She’d placed the cash for tomorrow’s flower delivery in a coffee can by the rear door. Thank God Mark didn’t know the new procedure. If she’d purchased the fireproof safe Tony had recommended, the safe would have been open and the money already in Mark’s pocket.

  “I don’t—”

  “Don’t play games.” A hand tightened around her elbow and yanked. “I know you got cash. Just give it to me, then maybe you and I can have some fun, like old times. Would you like that?”

  She shriveled away from his touch. “There’s cash in the register,” she hedged.

  Mara grabbed a set of keys from the hooks and turned on the storefront lights, leaving the interior lights off, hoping a deputy or someone driving by might again question the lights and investigate. Thankfully, Mark didn’t notice the change when she made her way from the work area to the register. Adrenaline exploded through her system. Her tongue had gone dry and made swallowing difficult.

  Certain the one hundred dollars in small bills and change wouldn’t be enough to buy a fix, she contemplated hitting him over the head with one of the larger vases. History had proved Mark’s temper would get worse when he didn’t get what he wanted.

  Think, Mara, think.

  Her chest thudding with frightened urgency, she opened the register drawer and took a step back, her other hand frantically searching for something large enough to crack his skull.

  Stay calm, breathe.

  Mark’s low growl sounded just behind her. “I know you have more cash.” He fisted her hair and yanked it, hard. Pain triggered her sharp gasp. “Don’t mess with me, Mara. I’m not in the mood.”

  He shoved her into a table. Six-inch plants went crashing to the floor. Behind her, the sound of more inventory hitting the floor made her gasp. Fear paralyzed any additional response. She couldn’t move.

  “Tell me! Where’s the cash?”

  “You have it.”

  “You’re lying.” Loud crashes to the left and right sounded like bombs going off. “Keep this up and there’ll be nothing left of your sweet little store.”

  Sensing movement, she threw up her hands to protect where her skull had been damaged on the back of her head. The doctor’s warning echoed through her mind.

  Another blow might kill you.

  Protect your head—always.

  “All right. All right. Stop. There’s more money in the back.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  Mark gave her a hard shove, and she barely managed to stay on her feet. Another crash—this time glass shattering. The inventory. Minimal insurance. Her business. Gone. She asked herself why she hadn’t just given him the money.

  Because he would come back. Again. And again. Never stopping. I’m not his bank account. Not anymore.

  Reaching the back room, she paused, thinking if only she could use her phone, call for help. But the backlight—cell phones had backlights. That would give her away.

  “Stop stalling. I want the cash now.” He sounded frantic. He shoved her forward and she stumbled, grabbing the counter just in time to avoid banging her forehead on the sharp, laminated edge.

  Out of options, she reached for the coffee tin just when the rear door exploded off its hinges.

  Chapter Eighteen

  After hitting the door at full speed, Joey felt searing pain roll down his arm and across his back, but he wouldn’t think about that now. He only had one thing on his mind.

  Save Mara.

  The light from the alley made it easier to see the knife held to her throat.

  Joey held his hands in front of him, showing the man he had no weapon, wishing for the Glock normally holstered on his hip.

  The man was thin. Too thin, and the stench, the greasy matted hair and scruffy facial stubble told him the addict hadn’t bothered to bathe recently.

  “Easy. Deputies are on their way. Just put the knife down. You don’t want to make this worse.”

  The thin man backed up. Not good. Joey moved away from the door, hoping the robber would do the easy, yet stupid thing, and go for the opening. The ploy worked. The guy started pulling Mara toward the door.

  “Don’t think I won’t kill her.”

  “We don’t have to go there. Put the knife down so we can talk.”

  Joey efficiently scanned the room, looking for potential weapons. When the drug addict’s gaze shifted to the door, Joey’s body automatically prepared to respond. The guy shoved Mara toward Joey, blocking his way, and escaped.

  “Mara, you okay?”

  She nodded, gulping. “Yes, go.”

  Joey raced to the alley but couldn’t find any trace of the guy. He listened for a car, pounding footsteps, any noise to indicate the direction he’d gone. Nothing. Without a weapon, he wouldn’t pursue the robber. Training discipline demanded no action. The guy’s behavior, the clothing, all the clues indicated the guy wouldn’t get far. Joey pulled his phone from his back pocket.

  “Yes, this is Detective Gaccione again. I wanted to confirm there’s been a robbery attempt at the Floral Shop on Main. The perp is about six feet tall, brown hair, wearing jeans and a dark-hooded sweatshirt.”

  “Joey?” Mara appeared in the doorway on her hands and knees. “Wait. I need to tell you.”

  “Stay where you are, Mara. There’s glass everywhere.”

  “Tell the deputies they’re looking for Mark Walters.”
>
  Mark Walters. The name filtered through his mind and several clues registered.

  Son of Tom and Sarah Walters. The couple who’d been robbed during the funeral.

  Was he also the guy stalking Mara?

  Did Sam become a target because he investigated Mark for stealing from town members?

  Could the murder, stalker and theft case possibly be solved?

  “Yes, ma’am.” Joey relayed. “I’m still here. The person you’re looking for is Mark Walters. The situation here is secure. Thank you.”

  Joey shoved his phone in his back pocket. “We need to get you out of here.”

  “No.” She stood up slowly, hands gripping the splintered doorframe with a determination that spelled out C.A.U.T.I.O.N.

  “What do you mean, no?” Woman, you damn near gave me a heart attack. “This place is a mess. It’s not safe.”

  “Joey, this is my home. My business. I’m not going anywhere. I need to understand the damage. I need to get the store cleaned up so I can open for business in the morning. We can’t afford to be closed, even for half a day.”

  From the conviction in her voice, he would have assumed her unaffected, but then he saw her hands shake while rolling goose bumps spread up her arms. Then her facial muscles began to quiver.

  Mara rotated with a whimper when she noticed the frenzied scratching at her apartment door. Anxiously waving her arms in front of her, she searched, reaching for any familiar object to navigate.

  He caught up with her just as she reached the stairs. “Hold up.”

  She shoved at him. “Buddy!”

  “Let me help. I’ll get him. Just promise me you’ll wait here and not move.”

  She grabbed the stair rail but went no farther. He raced up the stairs and opened the upper floor apartment door, catching the dog’s collar before the seventy-pound animal could bolt past him. Buddy yanked his injured arm, triggering shards of intense pain slicing down his left side, halting his breath.

  Everyone wants to protect Mara.

  “Easy there, Buddy.” I can’t lift you with my shoulder. Work with me here. A couple of steps from the bottom, he released the dog’s collar. Woman and dog immediately collapsed in each other’s arms.