Safe Haven

by Lisa Mondello

  Martha sighed. “Mr. Bingham tells me one of your officers is harassing his client.”

  Matt shook his head. “We went over all this the other night. My officers were doing their job.”

  “Does that include false arrest, too?”

  “That arrest was perfectly legal,” Kevin said firmly. “Textbook even.”

  Matt nodded. “I agree. I’ve read the report. Detective Gordon had probable cause. The arrest was clean and as soon as the mistake was cleared up, your client was released without any harm.”

  Bingham laughed hard. “I’m not here to debate what you perceive as probably cause these days. I’m talking about this morning when my client found one of your officer’s tailing him.”

  Jorgensen flashed a disgusted glance in Kevin’s direction that might well have been a flogging. Ski was usually stealth-like when he was tailing someone. Despite his nervous twitch, he was good at keeping himself invisible. Carlisle hadn’t seen him for the two weeks they’d been tailing him before the meeting. But obviously Carlisle was aware of them now and that meant they’d have to change players. He’d put Dylan on Carlisle for a while. Hopefully that will be enough to throw him off.

  “It’s bad enough to be falsely accused, but to be fearful of the very people who’ve sworn to protect and serve, well…”

  Anger simmered inside Kevin and threatened to boil over the surface of his composure. He shoved his hands in his pockets in an attempt to give them something to do other than grab Bingham by the throat. Bingham was bating Kevin. He wanted him to lose his cool, act like a fool and a crazed cop to strengthen his case against the department and to give credence to George Carlisle’s claim that he was innocent. It was practically Bingham’s M.O. to try to discredit and ruin a good cops career. But he wasn’t about to let Bingham get the best of him.

  “My client had some banking business this morning and found Detective Gordon sitting outside the building when he came out.”

  Kevin quickly ran the events of the morning through his head. He hadn’t seen Carlisle leaving the building after Daria went inside. He’d only waited long enough for Daria to enter the building before leaving himself. Ski had told him Carlisle was long gone before Daria had arrived. If Carlisle had come out that front door, Kevin would have seen him.

  “I was doing my job, which is to protect Ms. Carlisle from your client,” he told Bingham.

  Martha cocked her head. “So you were at Ms. Carlisle’s office building this morning.”

  “Yes.”

  Bingham flipped his hand. “There. He’s admitted to stalking my client. I want charges brought against Officer Gordon and a restraining order issued. I won’t tolerate Gordon harassing my client.”

  “He’s done no such thing,” Martha said firmly, shifting her butter-soft leather brief case from one hand to the other. She shook a head of salt and pepper short curls in impatience. “And none of this will hold up in court. You and I both know that, Mr. Bingham. I will also not entertain any notion of false arrest on this matter. I’ve seen the report as well. As Captain Jorgensen has already stated, the officers at the salvage yard believed they had probably cause for an arrest. The department released your client as soon as they discovered there was no evidence on that tape. Your client should be happy they didn’t hold him the full forty-eight hours the law allows.”

  Bingham huffed. “Regardless, I want to file a restraining order against this officer.”

  “For what?” Matt said. “He’s already stated his reason for being at Ms. Carlisle’s office building was for her protection. His business at her office had nothing to do with your client.”

  Martha turned to Kevin. “Will Ms. Carlisle verify that you were there on her behalf?”

  “We spoke this morning and I told her that I’d follow her to make sure she got into her office safely.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” Bingham huffed. “This has been very stressful for Mr. Carlisle and the notion—”

  “Poor guy,” Kevin drawled. “Plotting murder always takes a lot out of a man.”

  “The notion my client would be harmful to his wife is absurd. Bingham sliced Kevin with an icy glare and pointed a finger at him that probably hadn’t seen a day’s worth of hard labor. “You hauled an innocent man off the streets and subjected him to brutality. As of this point, you’re on notice. If anyone in this department crosses the line and harasses my client again I’ll make sure you all lose your badges and you’ll be good for nothing but shoveling fish guts down at the pier.”

  Matt rolled his eyes, clearly having reached the limit of his patience. “My officers will continue to act in the best interest of the public and if in doing that they so happen to step on your client’s toes—”

  “Then it’s too damned bad,” Kevin interjected.

  “If you so much as come near my client—”

  “You said that already. And I have no intentions of stepping one foot near your client,” Kevin warned, taking a step closer to Bingham. “But you can tell him for me that I will be glued to his ex-wife from now on to make sure nothing happens to her. And if anything does, I’ll personally be hunting him down for that arrest.”

  With a haughty lift of his chin, Bingham spun on his heels and strode away without looking back. It took a moment before anyone spoke.

  “That went well,” Martha said flatly with a tight smile, brushing the imaginary dust Bingham had left in his wake off the lapel of her navy suit. “Daria Carlisle did agree to having surveillance, Detective. Didn’t she?”

  He sighed. “Not in so many words.”

  Matt gave him a sidelong glance. “Exactly what words did she use?”

  Kevin stole a quick glance at the district attorney. “None that I can repeat in the presence of a lady.”

  *

  He was waiting for her. As Daria approached the house and pulled into the driveway just as it was starting to get dark, she saw Kevin’s vehicle parked at the curb. She didn’t have to fear her ex-husband. Kevin’s scowl alone was enough to stop her dead in her tracks and make her blood run cold.

  “Where have you been all this time? You said you were going to be home around six.”

  “Hello to you, too.” She leaned across the bench seat and picked up the flowers and glass vase.

  Kevin’s eyes fixed on the flowers, his stare intense, before he lifted his gaze to her. The intensity of his gaze never waned.

  She ignored his chilling glare and her own growing annoyance that she had to greet him this way. She already missed that fun-loving smile Kevin had had at the market. That would have been nice to come home to after the miserable day she’d had at work.

  “I had to work late. I didn’t realize how deep into work I was until the janitor came into my office to empty the trash.”

  “When were you going to tell me?”

  She feigned ignorance. “About the trash?”

  His jaw squared. “You know damned well what I’m talking about. That bastard came to see you today.”

  “Yeah? And which bastard would that be?”

  She couldn’t quite put a finger on what annoyed her more, greeting him in the fowl mood they so clearly both possessed or the fact that her ex-husband was all Kevin seemed to care about where she was concerned.

  “You mean there’s more than one?”

  “Right now there is.”

  He took a deep breath as if to bring his boiling point down to a simmer. “Your ex was at your office,” he said calmer. “Weren’t you going to tell me?”

  “No,” she answered honestly. “He was long gone before I arrived at work. I never saw him. I didn’t think it was necessary.”

  Irritation blazed strong and wild in his bright eyes. It didn’t matter that the reason she wasn’t going to share the fact that George had come to her office was simply because she just didn’t want to talk about it.

  She’d thought about it all day, endlessly. She was a person who lo
ved her job, prided herself in her work. But the amount of mistakes she’d made today from sheer distraction over this stupid vase of flowers had her fed up about the entire ridiculous situation. She didn’t want to think about George or these flowers anymore. She didn’t want to know why he’d sent them or why he chose today of all days to do it when this date no longer mattered to her. She wanted it to be four days ago before Kevin had that stupid meeting with George at the salvage yard. When her life was normal and she could happily work on her house and do her job without distraction.

  “You do realize I’m trying to save your life, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re not making this easy.”

  “It isn’t easy any way you look at it.”

  “If you don’t care about your own safety, how can you expect the police to keep you safe? Didn’t you hear anything I told you yesterday?”

  “More than you realize.” She thought she’d said the words under her breath, but the immediate reaction that registered in Kevin’s expression told her otherwise.

  Her shoulders sagged. “I’ve worked the situation backwards and forwards and every other way I could. I did it last night and then again at the office. I can’t leave.”

  “Of course you can.”

  “No, I can’t. I need my paycheck to get by. I have sunk every nickel I have into this house.” She glanced over at the structure as tears filled her eyes. “It doesn’t look like much, I know. But I have a vision in my mind of what it can be. So I took everything I had to buy it. I use whatever excess I have each week from my paycheck and put it back into the house. There’s only enough room left on my credit card to last me for a few days at best. There’s nothing more. I can’t afford to leave.”

  “What about your family?”

  “My parents? They’re not around here and they have less than I have if you can believe that. Even if I could go down there, I don’t have enough vacation time left. I’ve used most all of it to work on the house. I’m stuck here.”

  She blew out a breath of frustration and felt the tears that she’d held back most of the day push to the surface. Admitting out loud to Kevin what she’d feared was her reality had been harder than she’d imagined.

  She’d waged war for the past two days with her own desires and the reality of being faced with imminent danger and she’d lost the battle.

  A sudden chill invaded her body. Looking at him squarely, she pushed the truck door shut with her hip and said, “I need to get rid of these.”

  With a little extra effort, Daria walked up the path, her heart pounding in her chest. She’d half thought of keeping these flowers at work, or giving them to a co-worker. They were beautiful and flowers had always done wonders to lift her spirits in the past. But instead of giving her the normal lift, she’d found they’d been nothing but a reminder of her current predicament. George may as well have been in the office with her.

  She’d found herself on the phone with clients staring at the enormous, colorful bouquet and picturing herself lying on the ground in some dark alley, bleeding to death. She’d nearly jumped half a mile high when Marla walked into her office and tapped on her shoulder.

  Bringing the flowers home and dumping them into her compost pile seemed like the best solution. The last thing she needed was for people to start talking at work. She liked her job, was good at it and needed it if she intended to keep renovating her home.

  “He was in your office, Daria.”

  “Yes, he was. But like I said, I didn’t see him. He came and left before I even arrived at work.”

  “He left you a card? Is that how you knew these were from him?”

  “There was an unsigned card. But I knew it was him because my assistant saw him leaving the building.”

  Not wanting to discuss it anymore, Daria walked past Kevin. He followed on her heels to the end of the driveway.

  “Look, I’m tired. It was a long day.”

  Kevin didn’t say anything more but the questions were there in his expression. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans and stood in the driveway watching her as she walked in heels to the side yard where she kept her compost pile.

  Dropping her lunch bag and purse to the pavement, she gripped the vase a little tighter and clumsily stalked across the grass as the heels of her pumps sank into the soft, wet earth.

  Building a compost pile out of chicken wire fencing and stakes had been easy when she’d first moved in and began working on the yard. All her grass clippings and organic kitchen waste from egg shells to vegetable peelings would one day turn into rich soil to feed her gardens. All she had to do was till them under and let them bake in the hot sun. These flowers would turn to good soil too once nature had a chance to do its work.

  When she reached the compost pile, she lifted the thin, black sheathing she used to cover the pile and help keep the heat in, thereby speeding decomposition. With a quick turn of her hands, Daria dumped the contents of the vase into the pile of vegetation already there and replaced the sheathing, covering the flowers beneath it.

  Rubbing her fingertips of the dirt and wetness, she decided she’d till the whole pile over the weekend when she needed to get a little frustration worked out of her system. In truth, she could use that kind of workout tonight, but her muscles ached and her emotions were shot.

  She retrieved her purse and lunch bag from the end of the driveway and stopped when she heard movement deep in the back of the property. Her heart raced. Her eyes immediately moved to her trash can where she found it knocked over, most likely by Mrs. Hildebrand’s dog.

  With a sigh, she turned back to the house. Lifting her head, she took in the eerie darkness of it. She never left any of the lights inside on during the day while she wasn’t there. It had never bothered her to walk into a dark house before. But suddenly walking inside without Kevin there to check it seemed insane.

  She shook her head and chided her foolishness. This was her home dammit! She didn’t want to fear coming home.

  “You may want to think about adding some flood lights with motion detectors to the front and back yard,” Kevin said. “Something high enough and with a cage around the light that the neighborhood kids can’t pick off with a rock. Sometimes that’s all it takes to distract prowlers. Which reminds me, your front porch light has been smashed.”

  Her attention instinctively went to the front yard. She couldn’t see the light on the porch, but she imagined it all the same. “It is?”

  “Yeah, which is why I’m mentioning the cage. You have busy kids in this neighborhood.”

  “I’ll say. My bank account is taking a beating between the graffiti and the broken lights. Thanks for the suggestion. But why do I need flood lights out front if you’re going to be here barking at me every night.”

  She waited for him to move. Kevin stood for a moment, staring at her as the last of daylight began to slip away. If there was a big yellow moon hanging low in the sky, she would be able to see the strong features of Kevin’s face. There was something commanding about the way he looked at her, strong and sure of himself. No woman need fear for herself in his presence.

  But there was no yellow moon and now no bright lights from her porch shining down on them. There wasn’t even a lone car with bright headlights driving down her street. And even if she could see Kevin’s face, she had a good idea of the scowl he was wearing.

  “How come you don’t use the front door? Even with the light out you’d be able to see with the street lamp.”

  “And you’d be able to see me, too?”

  “Exactly. I want to make sure you get in okay. But seriously, the front porch is closer to where you park your car.”

  “My front door lock sticks sometimes. I could spend fifteen minutes just wiggling the key in the deadbolt and get eaten by mosquitoes in the process. After the day I’ve had I really don’t need to wrestle with it.” Rolling her ey
es, she added, “But if it would make you feel any better to watch me go into the yard with a little bit of light, Detective, I’ll grab the flashlight from my truck.”

  “I’m not going to feel better until I get George Carlisle.”

  “Well, I can’t help you there.” She grabbed the flashlight from the glove box and turned it on. “I’m all set. Goodnight, Kevin.”

  He simply nodded, turned and walked back to his SUV while she headed to the back yard. If Kevin Gordon wanted to waste his time watching her house and every move she made, that was his business. Daria wasn’t going to waste her time feeling guilty about it. She was tired, hungry, and had spent too long in pantyhose and heels to be pleasant with anyone.

  As she walked toward her back porch, she stole a glance up at the sky. There was no moon or stars yet. The weather report she’d heard on the radio on the drive home said they’d be getting rain. And Kevin would be sleeping in his SUV.

  Expelling a defeated sigh, she climbed the stairs. With the vase in one hand and the flashlight in the other, she couldn’t reach the door handle so she stuck the flashlight tightly under her arm and yanked at the screen door with her free hand. As she shined the light back on the door to get her key in the lock she froze.

  The glass vase slipped from her fingers and fell to the floorboards, crashing and spraying a million tiny shards around her feet. The beam from the flashlight hung like the overhead spotlight on a stage performer, making the eyes of the large, dead bird hanging from a thin wire from her door knocker glow as if in warning. One wing of the bird was twisted awkwardly to one side, while the other lay flat against its side. Her eyes fixed on the blaze of the bird’s eyes and the way its talons hung limp as if it were hanging from the gallows.

  Forcing herself to breathe, Daria took a wide step back. With each step she felt the fragments of glass crunch beneath her shoes. All her breath rushed out of her lungs with a whoosh that left her trembling. As she clutched her hands to her chest, she was vaguely aware that someone screaming.

  Chapter Five