A CHRISTMAS COLLECTION

by Wilton, Patrice

  “Good one,” Ally said, with a soft chuckle.

  “Thanks. Pretty creative of me, I thought.”

  “Well, put your thoughts elsewhere. I’m not going to be running after the chief, so don’t get your hopes up. I’m alone because I like it. For now. Maybe one day things will be different.”

  “Hopefully sooner rather than later.” Jennie gave her a long look. “I wasn’t looking—I didn’t want to replace Daniel. I wasn’t ready to say my final good-bye. Sometimes you just have to open your eyes and see what is standing right in front of you.” She sipped from her water bottle, her eyes still on Ally’s face. “But take your time. Maybe all the other young, single women around here will be preoccupied and not notice there’s a hot new guy in town.”

  Ally rolled her eyes and ran a hand through her spiky hair. “Not interested, remember? I’m only twenty-six. Not exactly an old maid.”

  “Old maid?” Katie asked. “Isn’t that a card game? Can we play it?”

  Jennie laughed. “Sure we can, sweetheart.” She stood up and put a hand on Ally’s shoulder. “Guess adult time is over. Want to play cards with us?”

  “Better playing Old Maid than being one.”

  * * *

  When Ally returned to the restaurant, Charlie Mackenzie was already there, her waitress apron tied around her slim waist, chatting up Byron as he prepped for happy hour.

  Charlie had arrived in Heaven earlier that summer looking for work. She rented a small condo in town that was pet-friendly as she had a gorgeous Samoyed for company. She’d told Nick that she’d left North Carolina after a broken engagement, and yet she didn’t look too broken-hearted now as she flirted with Byron, who clearly didn’t mind.

  She was pretty, twenty-three, with straight long blonde hair and blue eyes. Seeing her and her dog parading around town was quite eye-catching. Chief Brown must have noticed her—if as Jennie said—he was getting lonely. And yet, Ally had never seen him speaking with her for long. What do I care about who he talks to?

  “Hey, Byron, Charlie.” She unzipped her coat and removed her wool cap, stuffing it in her coat pocket. “It’s starting to snow outside. Might not have many people in this evening.”

  “Sure they’ll come,” Charlie answered, with a special smile for the sexy bartender. “Wouldn’t want to miss our great happy hour.”

  Byron gave a dopey grin, then spouted something really silly. “To drink or not to drink, now that is the question.”

  Charlie laughed as if it were the cleverest line she’d ever heard. Ally shook her head and left the twosome to their flirting. She went through the swinging door into the kitchen to take off her coat and get her apron. “Played Old Maid with your kids,” she told Nick, “and I’m sure Brooke cheated. She won both games.”

  “Well, I’ll just have a word with her,” he said with a chuckle. “She doesn’t like to lose, that’s for sure. Been known to throw the deck of cards all over the place.” He stirred a bubbling pot of stew. “How’s Jennie? Was the shop busy?”

  “Yes. She seems happy. Can’t imagine why.” She bumped his arm. “Hey. I’m hungry. Can I have some of that?”

  “Grab a bowl.”

  She did, and sat down at a stool to wolf it down. Customers would be coming in soon and they’d all be busy for the next few hours.

  As expected the regular happy hour group showed up for half-priced drinks and appetizers—and then by six the dinner crowd arrived. By eight, Ally’s feet were sore and her back was aching.

  Nick saw her rubbing her lower back and suggested that she call it a night. Knowing that Charlie was happy to stay late because she was crushing on the cute bartender, Ally nodded. “Good idea. I think I will.”

  “You sure you’ll be all right by yourself?”

  “Don’t worry about me,” she went into a kickboxing stance, arms raised in a boxing position. “I know how to handle myself.” As it to prove it, she kicked her right leg out sideways, and gave a few quick jabs in the air.

  “Impressive,” Nick told her. “Just make sure you see it coming.”

  “Well, that’s the idea, isn’t it?” Ally gave a brief smile and grabbed her hat and coat. “See you in the morning, boss. I won’t be late.”

  “Call if you need anything.”

  “You know I will.”

  She drove home, checking her phone to make sure that there had been no word from Chief Brown. No news was good news, she supposed.

  The lane leading to the house was dark but when she pulled up in front of the cabin an outdoor light lit up the carport and the front entrance. Her headlights picked up enough of the surrounding area to let her see into the woods beyond. It was kind of spooky; she had to admit, although it had never bothered her before. She’d viewed the trees as safe—not a place for Jimmy to hide.

  Still, Ally looked around before getting out of the car. She tensed, listening to the night sounds. A shiver ran down her spine as she approached the side entrance to the cabin, her grip tight on the handgun she’d taken out of her satchel—just in case. She glanced behind her then quickly opened the door and entered, locking it right away. Her free hand reached for the light switch, flipping it upward. Her mouth dried as she waited in silence.

  The light didn’t come on.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Chief Brown had spoken to the Jenkins kids earlier in the day but they were either very good actors or didn’t know a thing about Ally and her skunk. He believed them too, which put him at a dead end. He’d poked around, asking the shop owners in town if they’d seen any strangers acting strange, but that had only produced a few raised eyebrows and more questions which he couldn’t answer.

  It was now close to eight and he didn’t know any more than he had earlier this morning. He’d run Jimmy’s name into the system and drawn a blank. Guy could easily have changed his name, and probably had.

  It was normal for Ian to work a twelve hour shift because it relieved the boredom of trying to amuse himself with more than a good book, or the TV. But he was restless tonight. He liked answers and this felt unresolved.

  Instead of going home, he swung by Nick’s Bar and Bistro hoping to grab a burger and a beer, maybe have another word with Ally.

  He felt a rush of disappointment when the only two people in the restaurant were that young girl, Charlie, and the kid with the pony-tail and scruff on his face. Charlie waltzed over to his table when he sat down, hips swinging, and mouth snapping at her bubblegum.

  “Hey, Chief. What can we get you tonight?”

  “Is Ally here?” he asked, wondering if she was in the kitchen with Nick.

  “Nope. She left ten, fifteen minutes ago.”

  “Okay. Guess I’ll have a cheeseburger and fries. Make it to go.”

  “Sure.” She stuck a pen behind her ear. “You want double fries? Won’t cost you extra.”

  His stomach rumbled, but he patted his round belly and remembered the days he’d been able to eat anything—working vice kept him fit chasing down low-lives and king-pins. Not quite the same deal here. The Jenkins kids were almost a treat. A little graffiti here and there, a broken window or two.

  He sighed. If looking for trouble was his idea of a good time, he needed a better distraction. A woman or a hobby—the latter was a whole lot easier and far less expensive.

  Charlie stood with her hand on a slim hip, smacking away at her gum as he thought about taking the extra fries home and sucking back a beer.

  “What’s it going to be?”

  “No. Better not,” he answered. “Thanks for the offer just the same.”

  “No problem.” She headed off to the kitchen, and came back with iced water. “Nick said he’ll have it out in five minutes. You like it medium, right?”

  “You got it.” Damn. Even the waitress knew how he liked his burger cooked. He really needed to shake things up, start living a little. This might be Heaven, but it didn’t mean he was dead.

  What kind of activity could a cynical, divorced, ex-detective do
in this quaint little town with all the good citizens and their pot luck dinners, and Friday night Bingo? He knew one of the taverns had a country band and line dancing on weekends, but the day he did that, he’d eat his own bullet.

  He enjoyed the great outdoors—liked to fish, but ice-fishing wasn’t his style. He could go deer hunting in season, but somehow the idea of shooting one of those poor innocent creatures didn’t cut it with him. When he shot, he shot to kill, and preferred the criminal element. It was more sporting.

  He swallowed about half the glass of water—the ice splashed and dripped down his chin. Ian was dabbing at his mouth with the back of his hand when Nick appeared with his to-go bag.

  “Here you are. Just the way you like it. With extra fries,” Nick said, obviously not knowing he’d turned them down. “So what do you think of that thing over at Ally’s this morning?” His jaw tensed. “Never heard of anything like it, and I’ve lived here most of my life.”

  “It is odd. Can’t imagine a girl like Ally making enemies. Especially not here. But I saw it with my own eyes, and that skunk didn’t get there on its own. Somebody was trying to scare her. The big question is who.” Had she shared her history with Nick? From what he’d observed of Ally she was a loner—but she and Nick seemed to be friends as well as boss-employee.

  “I don’t like her living there all by herself,” Nick said in a low voice. “Wasn’t keen on it before, but now—knowing what I do about her past, well, it just seems foolish, if you ask me.”

  He knew then. Which was good, because it was one more person looking out for her.

  “She’s a smart girl,” Ian said. “She has the house wired and hooked up to our police station. Anything happens, like a break-in, the alarm goes off and we’ll be there Johnny-on-the-spot.” Even saying that, Ian knew it wasn’t true. Sure, whoever was on duty would high-tail it over to the cabin on the lake, but that was a ten to fifteen minute drive. They didn’t have squad cars driving around patrolling the area like a big city. By the time the officer arrived, hell, she could be dead. And the killer would have a chance of getting away. Maybe that was too brutal of a view, but it was the truth.

  He didn’t like her home environment any better than Nick.

  “Don’t know how anyone could find her here.” Nick’s brow creased in concern. “Heaven isn’t on any map. Population is less than a thousand. I mean, what are the odds?”

  “We don’t know that this is her guy.” Ian slid out of the booth, his brown paper bag in hand. “I’ll drive by and check on her—and put both our worries to rest. If you don’t hear from me, you’ll know she’s fine.”

  “Thanks.” Nick crossed his arms and nodded. “I appreciate that.”

  It took Ian ten minutes to make the drive to the lake. When he arrived at her cabin he felt a stab of fear. Her car was in the carport, but the house was dark. Heart pounding, he ran up the front steps, past the spot he’d cleaned up this morning and pounded on her door.

  “Ally. It’s Chief Brown. You all right?”

  A few moments passed and he heard a scuffle, then a chain being removed from the door. She opened it a crack and peeked out. “I’m okay.”

  “You don’t look okay. Can I come in?” Her eyes were wide and terrified. He could see she was clutching her rifle and that her cheeks were stained with tears.

  “Only for a minute. It’s late.” She stepped aside and he pushed the door open and entered, his gaze searching the room, afraid that he’d find an intruder.

  It was so dark he couldn’t see much of anything. “Why are you sitting here in the dark?” he asked, his voice low—comforting—he hoped.

  “I came home, in the side entrance like always, and the light in the laundry room didn’t come on.” Her chin lifted. “I know it was working this morning. I had to feel my way into the kitchen.” Her voice choked, and she cleared her throat. “Nobody was here. But I was scared to turn any lights on. The curtains were open when I left this morning. I like to see outside, and the snow and the lake.” Her face turned pink as if embarrassed by the admission. “I’ve never had any reason to worry before. But, if I’d turned on the light to draw the curtains, any shooter would have a clear-eyed view.”

  “That’s true.” He glanced around. “Big picture window offers a nice view. Both ways.”

  “Exactly. So I don’t know whether the other lights are working.” She sniffed. “I just sat here in this chair facing the door, shotgun in hand. Figured if anyone came through uninvited, I’d blast them to smithereens.”

  “Glad you didn’t shoot me.” He said it with a smile. “Mind if I turn on a light?”

  “Go ahead.” She watched as he tried all the lights and found them working.

  “Could be just the one light blew.” Ian peered out of the window, but stood so he wouldn’t be an open target. Then he closed the curtains, instantly feeling more comfortable.

  “Could be,” she said. “But after the dead skunk, I’m not convinced.”

  “How about I take a look?”

  “Sure.” She pulled a wrap off the sofa and slipped it around her shoulders. Her hands were shaking as she followed him into the laundry room. “You might need a chair or a ladder. There’s one outside in the carport.”

  “Naw. I think I can reach.” He removed his coat and lifted his arm—with one small twist, the bulb came off in his hands. He glanced down at her. “This came out too easily.”

  “What’s that?” she asked in a small voice, pointing at the bulb.

  Blood. A small stain, but he knew instantly what is was, and excitement ran through him. Was it enough for a fingerprint? “I’ll want a zip lock bag for this. Take it as evidence. You got another bulb I can put in for you?”

  “Uh, yeah, sure.” Her eyes were wide. “In that cupboard, right there.”

  He opened the door to the cupboard above the sink, and screwed in the new bulb making sure it was tight.

  “Was that blood?” she asked.

  He nodded. “That’s good news. It might provide some DNA.”

  “Good news?” she squeaked. “Someone entered my house with blood on his hands and unscrewed the light bulb to keep me in the dark. I came home an hour earlier than normal, which may have thrown off Jimmy’s plan.” Her breath hitched. “It’s got to be him, right?” Her eyes clung to his. Desperate. Afraid. Hoping for a denial, but knowing the truth.

  “Possibly. Can’t imagine anyone else sick enough to do this to you.” He wanted to touch her, offer comfort, but was afraid that the gesture might terrify her more.

  “What should I do?” she asked, though he sensed the question was rhetorical. Ally had a layer of resolve in her that made her strong. “I can’t keep running. I have to stay and fight this time.”

  “If it’s the man you think it is, then you’re right. He’s tormented you long enough, and it’s time he’s stopped. I will help you.”

  She blinked back tears. “Thank you.”

  This time Ian couldn’t stop himself. He placed his hands on her arms and looked into her eyes. “We might be able to lift a print from the blood on the bulb, and then we’ll know if it’s Jimmy or a local kid. Hopefully this stupid act of his will be his undoing.” He turned off the laundry room light and grabbed his jacket from off the dryer, leading the way back into the living room. “I have nowhere to go, and don’t feel much like leaving you alone.”

  “You can’t stay here,” she said, her gaze on the floor.

  He ignored the comment, shrugged on his coat and walked toward the door. “I stopped for a burger before coming here. It’s still in the car. I’ll go get it, if you don’t mind. Got extra fries too. You hungry?”

  She didn’t smile, but her eyes lit up. “Nick’s?”

  “Of course.”

  “Okay then. I could use a bite.” Ally stepped to the door and picked up the rifle she’d put next to it. “Be careful.”

  “Always.” He hurried down the stairs, opened the car, grabbed his dinner and checked his service weapon t
hen locked the cruiser door. Ally stood in the doorway, protecting him. He had to chuckle about that. Partners had your back, not young damsels in distress—although there was something about Ally that told him she could take care of herself. Still, he didn’t like the idea of her locked away in a self-made prison, afraid to be a part of the world—having to face the threat of danger all alone.

  It was his job to protect her, and whether she wanted it or not, he intended to keep her safe.

  Once he was back inside the cabin, she shut the door behind him, locked it securely, and put the rifle in place. Then she turned off most of the lights and met him in the kitchen. “I don’t mind you staying a little longer, but you can’t stay the night.”

  “I’m not asking. I’m telling.” He opened her cupboard and found two plates. He nuked the burger and fries, then divided it between them. He glanced around for napkins, found the paper towels, and tore off two pieces, sliding hers toward her.

  “I’m not helpless, you know.” She grabbed two beers out of her fridge and put one in front of him. They were both standing at the island counter which separated the kitchen from the living area.

  “I know.”

  She took a big bite, and the moist hamburger left a dribble on her chin. “Mmm. Good.”

  “You’re welcome.” He opened the fridge door and found the ketchup, dumping some on his plate. He dipped his French fries and ate quickly. He was glad now that Nick had thrown in the extra fries as she was devouring more than her share.

  Neither of them talked until the last bite was eaten, then without communication they took their beers and settled on the couch.

  “Thanks.” She said, lifting her beer in his direction. “I had a bowl of stew around four. Didn’t realize I was so hungry.”

  “So you got one bed here, or two?” He looked around the place. Decent size. Probably a two-bedroom cabin.

  “One, and that’s all I need. You’re not staying.” She jutted out her chin. “As you can see no one is about and I’m perfectly fine.”

  “I’m sure you are.” Bristly, too. She was nicer at the bistro—then again, she was paid to be. This was her home turf and he was intruding. “You ever think about getting a dog?”