Summer's Surrender

by LM Spangler

  He strummed a few chords to ensure the acoustic was in tune. Searching around himself, he found an old legal notepad and a stub of a pencil.

  Ian spent the rest of the night penning a ballad. A song about losing the love of your life because you put alcohol above all else, a ditty about the devil tempting you to drink more and more.

  He’d strum a few chords, jot down lyrics, and strum some more. His voice reflected the mood the song created. Regretful.

  The next three hours were spent writing, singing, and strumming.

  The song, it turned out, was about Ian’s life. A life he’d go to hell and back to make right.

  Chapter 4

  Ian awoke feeling lighter than he had in a long time. He had attended his first AA meeting. Two years of his life wasted on booze and rock and roll. His whole life had been about music, and where did that get him?

  He still loved to rock; maybe he’d do it again. In a roundabout way, he’d be experiencing it with a clear head. The years had blurred by. He only remembered bits and pieces of it, and that was so pathetic.

  What had he known about life at age twenty-two? Nothing. He had no idea that life could be a fickle bitch.

  Life offered him a chance to make something of himself, which he did. But life could also do a one-eighty in a split second.

  He could’ve told the guys in the band that he had to do something before they whisked him away, but time had been of the essence, and he chose the band over Summer. His greatest success and his biggest screw-up. Both at the same time. He was talented like that.

  He shook his head, ripping himself from his recollection. Standing in front of his store, he told himself to look forward, not back. His future stood before him. One of two bright spots in his life. The other would soon be going to her sister’s shop for her morning dose of caffeine.

  Unlocking the door, he stepped inside and hit the light switches. Harsh fluorescent lights, spaced apart by three once-white acoustical tiles in any direction, blazed to life. Some of the tiles had water damage from a previous leak. He’d have to have Cale take a look at the roof.

  Despite the growing list of upgrades, he smiled. Instead of chasing boredom away with alcohol, he now had a goal, something to look forward to every morning, not his first two fingers of whiskey.

  He searched behind the counter for pen and paper to start a wish list for the store. Finding an old, handwritten receipt book and a pencil, he jotted down new acoustical tile, LED lighting, checking the roof, and an updated, computerized cash register.

  Though he had the money to back any and all renovations, at the same time, he wanted to be frugal. Fortunate for him, he had followed Autumn’s advice and hired Cale’s company. As soon as he and the contractor finalized the main store design, he’d hire Autumn as his interior designer.

  Humming one of his greatest hits, he inspected the whole sales floor and the storage room. He visualized drum kits, guitars, violins, and so much more. He’d be living a dream of his.

  He pulled his cellphone from his pocket and checked the time. It was 8:25. Five minutes before Summer would arrive at Raine’s. He returned his makeshift list behind the counter. Walking outside, he locked the door.

  He glanced over at Summer’s store. A quick flash of someone moving from behind her building and disappearing behind the next one caught his attention. He couldn’t imagine who’d need a candle so badly that they’d camp out behind the building. He shrugged it off and strolled on the scarred sidewalk toward Raine’s.

  Raine’s shop was located in the same row of buildings as Summer’s store. However, the façade of the three buildings varied. Raine’s was clad in basic clay bricks, with some chipped, which added age and character to the building.

  The post office was a glass and tan brick one-floor structure.

  Sheathed in gray vinyl siding, Summer’s shop stood out among the other buildings. A black door and trim accentuated the soft gray siding. He imagined her sister had designed the old-fashioned hanging sign. Black, swirling letters spelled Duncan Candles against a golden background. The front display held an array of pastel-colored candles, reminiscent of spring, in many shapes and sizes.

  The opposite side of the street allowed parking. Cars and trucks stretched up Main Street as far as the eye could see. There were craft stores, hair salons, florists, and an insurance salesman, mixing pleasantly into small town America.

  Ambling along, he strode into Raine’s, the door buzzing as he entered. He spotted Summer and Nana’s identical shade of golden hair. Summer had beat him to the shop. Nana had taken a day trip the last time he had been here. He hadn’t had a chance to see her.

  His gaze met Nana’s, and she motioned for him to join them.

  He purchased a large, black coffee from Melissa and made his way to Summer’s table. “Good morning, ladies,” he said as he lowered himself into a vacant seat he borrowed from another table. He sipped his beverage, careful not to burn his tongue. He preferred not to repeat Summer’s mishap from the other day.

  His heart thudded hard, skipping a beat, then two before galloping when Summer’s smile broadened. “Hi.”

  “Summer.” He nodded. “Mrs. Duncan.”

  “Please, call me Nana.” She waved away his manners.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He faced Summer. “How are you this morning?”

  “Ready to roll,” she replied.

  He nodded. “How are you, Nana? Been a long time since I’ve seen you.”

  Her silver-blue eyes bore through him, making him feel transparent. “It’s been two years, Mr. Jacobs. Two years since you broke my granddaughter’s heart.”

  Summer gasped. “Nana! That wasn’t necessary.” She faced Ian. “I’m so sorry.”

  Ian and Nana stared at each other, neither one backing down.

  Ian broke the silence. “Nana is right. It has been two years since I broke your heart. I can’t deny that. I can, however, vow to never do that again if given the opportunity to rectify the situation.” Another round of stares.

  Finally, Nana smiled. “I believe you, Ian.”

  He’d dodged the bullet. Little did Nana and Summer know he’d been one step away from sweat breaking out over his body. Nana was as tough as they came. She always had been. Little had changed in the two years since he’d seen her. Streaks of silver mingled with shiny gold now, and the corners of her eyes were slightly lined. But otherwise, she and Summer shared the same figure—graceful and willowy.

  She could still stand her ground as she had done with him. He heaved a mental phew!

  “Rumor has it that you’ve purchased Donaldson’s old place,” Nana commented. “Summer says you’re going to open a music store, selling instruments and such.”

  “That’s the game plan. I met with Deveraux General Contracting to devise a design so I can start coming up with a definitive floor plan.”

  They chatted for another fifteen minutes with no further mention of his screw-up two years ago. He didn’t just dodge a bullet, he’d kept a bomb from exploding.

  “I need to go open the store, Nana.” Summer rose. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

  “Sure will. Have a good day.”

  She leaned down and placed a kiss on Nana’s cheek. “Love you, Nana.” She turned her attention to Ian. “Care to walk with me?”

  She and Ian stepped into the morning sunlight. The sun haloed her head, making her blonde hair turn to molten gold.

  “Is something wrong?” She glanced down her body as if looking for a flaw.

  There would never be another to captivate him as she did and always had.

  A growl crept up his throat. “Come here,” he demanded.

  He didn’t give her time to think. He pulled her to him, his mouth capturing hers. He’d be greedy. This woman completed him and he made sure she knew it. His tongue teased the seam of her mouth, she opened, and he dove in.

  She was ambrosia from the gods, a drink so potent it rocked him to his soul. She’d seared his heart, the h
eat shooting through him, burning him. And he was good with that.

  He lifted his head. “I love you, Summer.”

  Her chest heaved in and out as she fought to regain her breath. “I think you do,” she answered. “You always could kiss. Damn.”

  “I like keeping you off-kilter.”

  “I’ve been off-kilter since I saw you in what’s now your store. I’m not entirely sure what I’m going to do with you.”

  “You’re still not saying no. I can live with that.” He winked. “Let’s get your store open.”

  * * * *

  She was surprised that she still had her head on her shoulders. After that kiss, she expected it to blow off. The man had potency like no other. Her pulse still hammered.

  Summer and Ian went through the front door, and after they’d stepped in, she quickly deactivated the security system.

  “I need to get my system updated. I’m going to have thousands of dollars of merchandise,” Ian commented.

  “Keene Security did mine and the Whitley Jewelers across the way,” she said over her shoulder as she stepped into the back room.

  “Do I know the Whitleys?” he asked from behind her.

  “I doubt it.” Turning around, she collided with him. Whoa,” she exclaimed as she grasped his arm to steady herself. “Sorry. The Whitleys grew up just over the school district line in York. We met them about twenty years ago at summer camp. We still hang out every now and again. Colt has the most in common with them now seeing as they’re in the jewelry business. Sage and Brynne bought Kruger’s old jewelry store about a year ago, and they moved into Dover after they purchased it. Brynne is one year older than me, and her sister, Sage, is a year younger.”

  “So much has changed,” he muttered.

  “Yes, it has. We’ve grown up, became different people.” She sat on the stool behind the counter.

  He leaned over the counter, resting his forearms on top. “Are we all that different?” he asked as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

  The simple gesture shook her to the very core. Years ago he never would have done something that intimate. Now, it rocked her, throwing her way off-kilter, like upside down off-kilter. She was having trouble righting herself around him. It wasn’t as unpleasant a notion as it was when she first saw him.

  Her eyes met his. “Yes, we are, but I think it’s for the better.”

  Her gaze dropped to his sensual mouth, and then met his eyes again. With deliberate slowness, he leaned toward her, his lips finding hers. Any barrier she had around her heart crumbled under the tenderness that kiss held. Not meant to arouse, but to claim her heart, showing her what he was capable of. Total mastery of her body, mind, and soul. All of it.

  “Hey. Whoa!” Jolene interrupted.

  Ian smiled against Summer’s mouth and murmured, “To be continued.”

  “Found this at the back door.” Jolene held up a package wrapped in brown craft paper.

  Thrill was replaced by befuddlement.

  “Were you expecting a delivery today?” Jolene asked.

  Summer took the box from Jolene. Her full name was handwritten on the package.

  Ian took interest in the package. “Mind if I open it?

  “Be my guest.” Summer handed it to him. “Why so interested?”

  “Earlier this morning I saw someone—a man, I believe—walk from behind your store. Hmm…” Ian muttered as he pried a piece of tape off the end and slowly unwrapped it. A small box, perhaps six inches long, was uncovered. He pulled the last of the tape away and opened it.

  “People do walk up and down the alley to get to the convenience store across the street.” Summer moved closer to him to sneak a peek. “What in the hell?”

  She grasped the window crank from a car. The metal was cold and coated in something red. Lifting it to her nose, she took a small sniff and jerked back. The coppery tang of old, stale blood flitted to her nostrils.

  “Oh, geez,” she uttered as she dropped the car part onto the counter next to Jolene’s laptop. “I think it’s covered in blood. I need to wash my hands.” Spooked, she walked into the small bathroom, grasped the soap, and sudsed up.

  Who in their right mind would do that? The question tumbled around her brain, and she couldn’t come up with an answer. She had no clue. Maybe the person was out of his or her gourd. She couldn’t shake the cold blanket of fear that entrapped her. The joke was not funny.

  After rinsing and drying her hands, she returned to Jolene and Ian.

  Ian exhaled a loud huff. “I’ve seen something similar to this in the past week.”

  Summer’s forehead furrowed. “Come again?”

  “I received a speedometer and a rearview mirror with broken glass. Both of which were from an older car.”

  “You received what?” Jolene asked.

  “This,” he said, pointing to the discarded crank and box, “makes three pieces.”

  Summer spun the facts around in her mind. No matter how she considered it, no reasonable answer formed. What could all this mean? And how were both she and Ian involved?

  “Oh,” she proclaimed as another puzzle piece came slamming to the front of her mind. “Your accident the other day, when you were almost hit. Wasn’t that an older model car?”

  “Huh. I can’t say for sure if it was an older vehicle. I think it was, but I’m not a hundred percent sure.” He rubbed his chin. “I don’t know.”

  “You should call Officer Burkhardt,” Jolene suggested.

  “This is beyond a practical joke, especially if that’s human blood.” Summer’s stomach revolted at the thought of the blood being human, and bile rushed up her throat. “Oh, that makes me queasy.”

  Ian laid a calming hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “I’m going to step out back and call Officer Burkhardt. This can’t be a coincidence. For whatever reason, I think we both have someone stalking us.” He retrieved his phone from his pants pocket. “And he or she could be very dangerous.” With that, he turned and left the ladies alone.

  An involuntary shiver raced over Summer’s body. She rubbed her arms in an attempt to chase away the chill of fear.

  “This is serious, isn’t it, boss?” Jolene asked softly.

  “I’m afraid so. This is beyond creepy.” Summer paced the floor. She’d never been fond of mysteries, and this one was turning into quite the puzzler. “My head hurts.” She pressed her fingertips over her temples and massaged the throb that matched each heartbeat.

  Ian joined them. “Officer Burkhardt will be here shortly. He’s going to pull out back so it doesn’t attract attention. He’ll do the same at my place too. I told him I did see someone walking from behind your building, but I thought it was someone walking up the alley. Maybe he dropped off the package.” He shrugged.

  “This is crazy. I don’t like the fact that this now touches the three of us.” Summer lowered herself onto her stool again. “This store and my friendship with Jolene matter so much to me. Now you’ve worked your way back into my life, and I realize I have so much to lose. This scares me. I don’t have a good feeling about this prank.” She made air quotation marks.

  Ian’s lips formed a thin line. “It’s definitely not funny,” he concurred.

  The buzzer at the back door sounded, startling Summer. “Damn, I hate being so jumpy.”

  The policeman entered, carrying what looked like a small suitcase. “My crime scene kit,” he said. “Our criminal investigations team have their hands tied with a vehicular homicide. Damn shame is what it is.” He removed his hat and ran a hand through his wiry, ginger gray hair. “Anyway.” He replaced the hat. “I’m trained in criminal investigation techniques, thus the field kit.” He lifted the case for emphasis. He faced Jolene. “Mr. Jacobs said you found the package out back, and a short time earlier he saw a man walking from behind the building.”

  “Yes, sir,” Jolene answered, her tone tentative.

  “Would you show me where you found it?” Officer Burkhardt asked in a calm
ing, soft voice.

  She nodded and led him outside.

  Ian tugged Summer into the shelter of his body. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I hate that this touched you. It looked to be aimed at me. Now you and Jolene. If I ever see the little punk that’s pulling this stunt, I’ll strangle him.”

  “That’s not a smart thing to say around a sworn protector of the law,” Officer Burkhardt said, entering the sales floor again. “But completely understandable.”

  Summer exhaled a heavy breath. “Can we take this to the back so I can open the store? Staying closed would draw unwanted attention to the situation.”

  The officer nodded, and Summer walked to the storefront and turned the Closed sign to Open.

  “I asked Ms. Everhart if anyone she knew smoked. She said no. Do you know of anyone?” He lifted a clear, plastic bag with a cigarette butt in it.

  Both shook their heads.

  “It could be nothing, but I’ll send it away for DNA testing.” He opened the case and placed the evidence in a secure area of the kit. “With pictures taken.” He patted a pocket of his uniform shirt where he housed his digital camera. “Could I see what was received today?”

  Summer motioned toward the box and window crank. “It’s all yours.”

  Officer Burkhardt’s lips formed a thin line as he turned the item this way and that. Setting it down, he dug in his kit for two small squeeze bottles and a flat, rectangular-shaped piece of plastic. “These will be used to detect if the substance is blood and if it’s human.”

  He grabbed a long cotton swab and dripped clear fluid on the tip before swiping it over the red substance. He followed that with a drop or two of the second fluid. The tip turned bright pink.

  “It’s blood.” With his free hand, he reached into his pocket, grabbed his camera, and snapped a picture. Grabbing a second cotton swab, he swiped it over the blood and dabbed the tip into one of two openings in the plastic rectangle. “And it’s human.” He snapped another picture and put the camera back in his pocket.

  He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a recorder. He announced his name and had the others do so as well.