by Kim O'Brien
When the wheels of a shopping cart slid to a halt beside her and a large shadow fell over her, Laney had her answer.
“Hello, Laney,” Ty said.
He towered over her, a giant of a man who seemed even larger from her crouching position. She flinched at the slash of his mouth that frowned down at her.
“What a coincidence,” Laney said in the bright, false voice that was becoming only too familiar to her. She batted her eyelashes and gave her biggest smile.
“Quit the fake smile,” Ty stated. He folded his muscular arms across his chest. “You’ve been following me.”
“I know it seems that way,” Laney began.
“It seems that way because it’s true.” He looked down at her with a grim expression. “Not many old blue minivans drag their mufflers around town. I slowed down so you wouldn’t lose Angel out the window.”
“Anyway,” Laney said, “the point is, now that we’re both here, it’s an excellent time to pick up where we left off in the restaurant.”
Ty rolled his eyes and made a sound of disbelief. “What point are you talking about? The one where you crawled out like GI Jane?”
“I’m sorry about that.” Laney stood, hoping he wouldn’t seem so intimidating from this perspective. “I can explain.”
“You don’t have to,” Ty said. “But you have to stop this.” He put his hands on his hips. “You can’t stalk me.”
“I wasn’t stalking you,” Laney said. “I was following you.”
“Stop following me, spying on me, and anything else that has to do with me.”
Laney touched the silver cross that hung at her throat. She ordered herself to breathe more slowly and ignore the loud thump of her heart. “If someone tried to rob this store, would you try to stop him?”
Ty stepped closer to her. The tips of his leather boots nearly brushed the edge of Laney’s canvas sneakers. His size and physical presence made it clear she was no match for him. Yet Laney refused to step backward, not even when he pointed his finger at her. “Of course I would.”
“Your note is a cry for help. I can’t just walk away.”
“Yes, you can,” Ty said. “You can stay away from me.”
“I can’t do that.” Laney held his gaze. “Not when we still have so much work to do.”
A middle-aged woman pushed her grocery cart closer to them. Instinctively, Laney and Ty pretended to be concentrating fiercely on their shopping. He smiled politely when Laney handed him a bag of brown rice. She accepted the family-sized box of rice mixture he put in her hands.
Smiling sweetly, Laney placed ten pounds of lentils in his cart. Ty frowned. His eyes narrowed until he saw a five-pound box of processed cheese and added it to Laney’s cart. He grinned when Laney’s nose curled in distaste. Finally the shopper moved away.
“If you don’t stop this, you’re going to ruin everything,” Ty said. He shifted his weight to his other leg. “Don’t you know anything about this election?”
“The election has nothing to do with this,” Laney said. “I promise I’m not working for my father.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. His eyes were full of skepticism. “You want me to believe you’re doing this from the goodness of your heart?”
He made it sound like a crime. Laney’s chin lifted. “Is that so unthinkable?”
“Yes, especially when you consider that hounding me could potentially affect every child in our county.”
“What are you talking about?”
Ty began to tick off reasons on his fingers. “The security systems and procedures in our schools today are outdated. Your father doesn’t see upgrading them as a priority.” He paused. “I do.”
His eyes held the distant look Laney remembered from the restaurant. “Running around spreading rumors about me doesn’t help my election chances.” He stared hard into her eyes. “For everybody’s sake, stay out of this.”
Part of her believed him, but Laney silenced the voice. If she walked away now and something happened to Ty, she’d never forgive herself.
“I’d like nothing better,” Laney said. “If my father found out about my helping you, he’d disown me.” She raised her left hand. “Not to mention what my fiancé would do.”
“We agree then that the best thing would be for you to give me the note and pretend we never met.”
“It might be the easiest thing,” Laney replied, “but not the best thing.”
He stepped so close she could see the length and thickness of his black eyelashes.
“I’m beginning to wonder if there really is a note at all,” Ty mused. “Maybe I should call your bluff.”
“There’s a note all right,” Laney said, “and it’s a cry for help.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Don’t worry. I have the perfect solution.”
“You do?”
Laney ignored the sarcasm in his voice. “Absolutely. What you need is a pet.”
“A pet?”
Laney wanted to laugh at the look of horror on Ty’s face, except that it wasn’t funny. “As a matter of fact, yes.” She straightened her shoulders. “I happen to be involved in a ministry at the church called Pets-n-Prayers. It’s been very effective in helping people.”
Ty rubbed the skin on his face hard. “You’re kidding, right?”
“About Pets-n-Prayers?” She shook her head. “It’s a proven fact that pets lower people’s blood pressure and help them cope with stress.” She paused significantly. “Not to mention the power of prayer.”
“I’m beginning to think I was wrong,” Ty said. He raked his hands through his hair. “Nobody set out to destroy me could come up with a plan like this.”
Although Laney knew he’d insulted her, she refused to rise to the bait. “You can borrow Angel if you like. He’s a certified companion dog.”
“Me with a dog?” Ty laughed. “The plants in my house commit suicide, and I’m talking about the plastic variety.”
“You need a pet,” Laney said firmly. “I own a pet shop.”
“I don’t need a pet.” Ty’s voice rose. “I need a restraining order.”
“Neither of us wants publicity,” Laney pointed out. “There’s a simple solution. You come to the shop tomorrow and pick out a pet. I’ll give you back your note.” She studied the hard set of his mouth. “Is it a deal?” As the silence stretched between them, she added, “You can trust me.”
The very edges of Ty’s lips lifted. “Trust me,” he said. “Those are famous last words, you know.”
“You won’t regret it,” Laney said softly.
“A note for a pet,” Ty repeated. He seemed to consider the idea. “Do you have any plastic fish?”
“No,” Laney said.
“You will if any fish gets left in my care,” Ty said. “But I will come to your shop.” His eyebrows drew together. “And the note had better be there.”
“It’ll be there,” Laney said placidly, completely unimpressed with the formidable expression on his face. “Along with my animals.” She didn’t like to saddle anyone with an unwanted pet, but an animal to love seemed to be just what Ty needed. “Do we have a deal?”
“I’ll come to your shop,” Ty said, “but we’ll see about the pet.”
Laney stuck out her hand and gave Ty’s fingers a firm shake. “Come anytime tomorrow. I’ll be there.”
“Don’t even think about sending me home with that snake,” Ty said. “The one that went down the drain.”
He was joking. That meant progress. Her own spirits lifted with the realization that beneath Ty’s gruff exterior beat the heart of a soft man. He doesn’t know it yet, she thought, but God is working in his heart, giving him back an ability to laugh.
“Of course not,” Laney replied demurely. “I have a baby alligator that would do quite well in your bathtub.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Am I?” Laney’s left eyebrow rose in challenge. “Come to the store tomorrow and find out.”
E
ight
Ty didn’t know which bothered him more—his failure to retrieve the note or his growing attraction to Laney. Gripping the steering wheel tighter, Ty tailgated the car in front of him shamelessly until it changed lanes. As the traffic predictably slowed, he signaled, changed lanes, and accelerated. If he couldn’t stop his thoughts, then maybe he could outrun them.
The car shifted with the promise of untapped power. He scowled as he passed a car with a bumper sticker: “A vote for G. C. Varner is a vote for family values.”
Ty didn’t need to be a professional politician to know this new campaign strategy was trouble for him. As if he didn’t have enough to worry about with the threat of Laney going public with a note he didn’t write.
If he only knew what the note said, he wouldn’t worry so much about it, he thought, or obsess so much about Laney.
She continuously popped into his thoughts, disturbed his sleep, and distracted his focus. He couldn’t think of a worse time to have a woman on his mind or a worse woman to have on his mind.
Here he was on his way to a pet shop. Worst of all, he actually looked forward to seeing her again. Suddenly he heard a muffled popping noise and felt a slight pull on the steering wheel. Rolling down the window he slowed and listened. Ty heard the clink, barely audible but undeniable, coming from the left rear tire. He had a flat.
Muttering, he eased the car to the shoulder of the road. He saw the Destiny High School lot and pulled in.
Wondering what he’d run over, he rolled up the window, radioed in his position to dispatch, and cut the engine.
At this time in the morning, the lot was filled with cars. A quick scan showed him Beemers, Jeeps, Camaros, a Firebird, Explorers, and even the car of his boyhood dreams—a shiny red Mazda RX-7.
Rolling up his sleeves, Ty popped the trunk. As he put the jack under the car, he found his thoughts returning to Laney.
Could she be as innocent as she seemed? Although he’d accused her of bad acting, the truth was that if she were lying, she deserved an Academy Award.
Sticking the jack beneath the car, Ty raised the vehicle off the pavement. It cocked its flat tire at him as if it were an injured hipbone. Ty wiped his face and reached for the lug nuts.
Since Anna Mae had left him at the altar two years ago, Ty hadn’t dated much. He hadn’t had the energy or desire to get to know someone well enough to start a relationship. The way he saw it, a man either learned from his mistakes or repeated them. He’d learned.
He’d never forget coming home from the wedding and walking into an empty house. While he’d been waiting to make his vows, she’d been making off with the gifts and furniture.
He pulled the flat tire off the car and tipped it onto the hot cement. Wiping the grease off his hands onto a rag, he looked at his fingers. His knuckles were large, the center one slightly crooked. These were the hands of a policeman—cool, steady.
These same hands weren’t so steady around Laney Varner. In fact, every time he was near her, he had the urge to hold her hand. More than that, he wanted to curl a strand of her hair around his finger and see if it was as soft as it looked.
He didn’t have a category for someone who looked as fragile as a flower yet held a black belt in karate, who seemed to stumble through life yet held out her hand to help others. Namely him. She made him laugh, she made him paranoid, and she made him wish he’d chosen another spot to have his picnic lunch that day. She also made him glad he hadn’t.
A small group of students trickled into the parking lot. He watched all six squeeze into a red compact car. Their clothing nearly brought a smile to his lips. The urge faded when he thought of his brother, Mickey, who had been a math teacher.
He wiped his face. Returning his tools to the trunk, he gave into the urge to lift his face to the sun. For a moment, he closed his eyes, savoring the whisper of a breeze that cooled the sweat on his brow. In his mind, he could almost see Mickey leaning up against a tree, grinning at him from behind his sunglasses.
Mickey led him into trouble, urging the release of the laboratory frogs, urging him to cut class and go fishing with him. He also had been a terrific mimic, able to imitate authority figures with ease and wit. Their Sunday school teacher, Mr. Jones, had caught him once. He and Mickey had spent the morning copying Bible verses as a result. Later, on the hill behind the church, they had rolled in the tall sweet grass, laughing until their ribs hurt.
Ty saw his brother in every teacher who walked through the double doors of a school, heard his voice in the dull roar of students moving in the hallway between classes. Mickey always seemed a ghostlike presence hovering at the edge of his sight.
Ty opened his eyes. He knew he wouldn’t find his brother at this school or any other. Yet when he looked up to see a hawk circling in the clear blue sky, he couldn’t help but imagine Mickey’s spirit soaring free, just like the hawk.
If heaven was real, Mickey would be there. Ty wasn’t so sure he’d make it there himself. He and God weren’t exactly on speaking terms. Hadn’t been for quite awhile.
Ty followed the hawk until it soared out of sight. He found himself in a small courtyard. There were five round cement tables with curved benches for sitting. In the center of the area stood a statue of a boy releasing a dove into the air.
Mickey would have looked at the statue and thought up a good prank. He would have dressed the boy in a tuxedo during prom season or put long ears on it for Easter.
Ty considered leaving a note for his brother in the hands of the statue. It was a crazy impulse, yet it seemed right, like putting flowers on a grave. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small notepad. What should he say? He tapped the pencil on the paper. Say something, he ordered himself. You and Mickey used to do this all the time.
And then he had the awful thought that if Laney could see him now, pencil and notebook in hand, he would never convince her he hadn’t written the note she’d found.
He thrust the pad into his back pocket. The pencil slipped from within the pages and landed with a small noise on the ground.
Squatting, Ty reached for the pencil. As his fingers closed around it, deep lines drawn into the gravel caught his attention. On further inspection, it proved to be a series of numbers. Odder and even more disturbing, they appeared within the drawn outline of a bullet. A chill went down his back.
He had a terrible sense of déjà vu. He rubbed his eyes, wondering if fate was playing a cruel joke on him. But when he opened them, the drawing was still there, larger and more unmistakable than ever.
Was history repeating itself? Ty needed to get to the station to try to convince G. C. to take a more aggressive approach to school security. He had no time to go to Laney’s shop and retrieve the note. No time for any more cat-and-mouse games with her. This time he wouldn’t let anyone down.
Nine
Laney cleared the desk in the back room of her store in preparation for Ty’s visit.
She neatly arranged a thermos of coffee, a plate of sandwiches, and a variety of pet-care books across the top. Although she was pretty sure a pair of female guinea pigs would be the best pets for Ty, she wanted him to make an informed choice for himself. Thus the reading materials.
She had books on rabbits, mice, gerbils, ferrets, birds, and fish. Ty could sip his coffee and leisurely browse through the books in private. When he was ready, he could call her back to the office, and she’d bring him whatever animal he chose.
Yawning, she checked the display one more time. She’d spent a sleepless night, tossing and turning and wondering why the hands of the clock moved so slowly. As she’d lain there, no matter how hard she tried to sleep, her thoughts had returned to Ty. She wanted to know more about him, to understand what had happened to his brother, and to unravel the mystery of his past.
Sinking onto the seat, she laid her cheek on the desk. She closed her eyes and tried to picture the big detective holding a guinea pig. She nearly laughed. He’d probably hold it as far away from him as possible,
as if it were some bomb that might go off any minute.
“You want me to take care of this tail-less rat?” he’d say. Oh, he would fight her every step of the way. But in the end, Laney knew he’d give in. He might look tough on the outside, but she had read his note. His heart was pure gold.
Distantly, as if in a dream, she heard the jingle of the front door and knew he had come. “I’m in the back,” she called.
She heard the sound of boxes moving as he maneuvered through the cluttered room.
“Laney?” a man said.
Laney turned. Her eyes widened in shock. In front of her, smiling with determined kindness, was Pastor Bruce Burke.
“Pastor Bruce,” Laney managed. “Wow! This is a surprise.”
Pastor Bruce bent over, revealing the purple birthmark on the top of his nearly balding head.
“May I sit down?”
Laney motioned to a chair. “Of course.”
“You aren’t meeting Rock, are you?”
Laney swallowed. She ran her fingers through her hair and wondered why police bothered with lie detector tests when all they had to do was put Pastor Bruce in a room. “Actually I was meeting a friend who is going through a hard time right now.”
The smile faded from Pastor Bruce’s face. His brow furrowed in concern. “I don’t like to pry, but is everything all right with you and Rock?”
Laney blinked. “Of course,” she said quickly. “Why would you think otherwise?”
The senior pastor shrugged. “There have been signs,” he said.
“Signs?” Laney repeated faintly. “Letting Mother Tilly eat the gerbil food was an accident. She thought it was granola.”
The pastor chuckled. “That’s a good one,” he said. “Gerbil food and granola. I’ll have to use it in a sermon sometime.”
Laney hugged herself hard. She could imagine her mother-in-law’s hair standing on end at the thought.
Pastor Bruce stroked his chin. “You were seen at Miguel’s spying on your mother-in-law.” He drew a long breath. “And now half the women in our church are praying for you, although no one is quite sure why.”