by Lori Ryan
Ashley laughed and typed add some gelato turrets and a chocolate fudge moat for dessert, beautiful girl in the comments section. Then she clicked over to the newsfeed and followed it down, scrolling past negative posts and looking for pretty pictures and fun videos. Before long, she’d found an adorable meme of a ferret looking affronted and saying, “I said good day, sir!” and another of a dog splayed out on the floor with a line that read, “Please don’t make me adult today.”
Within an hour, she’d forgotten about the rat prank. She wasn’t completely over that wrung-out feeling she’d had since talking to her mom, but she was laughing as she went to get ready for bed.
*
Ashley’s relief lasted through her morning routine of coffee, shower, more coffee, clothes, makeup, and more coffee. Things came crashing to a disastrous halt when she opened her front door to find the rat was back on the steps, with the plastic bag she’d tossed it in torn open to expose the dead body.
Ashley’s head shot up to look at the street, but that bravery lasted only a minute before she slammed the door and locked herself in the house. Because if that rat was back, that meant someone had fished it out of her trash last night. And that likely meant they’d watched her throw it in the trash and then come and taken it out while she was inside.
She tried to shake off the feeling of having her privacy—her space and sanctuary—invaded, but the feeling hung thick in the air. She didn’t often have trouble with anyone, but occasionally, a teenager decided to smoke a cigarette in the library bathroom, or do things they had no business doing locked in a storage closet with another teenager. Ashley rarely felt the need to call parents, but every once in a while, she did. She would bet this was one of those teens getting back at her. That didn’t make it any less frightening.
She looked at her phone and thought about calling John Davies. Her mind flitted to Garret instead, and it wasn’t simply because he was also a police officer. She was thinking that having his arms around her would be a comfort. And that feeling kind of freaked her out. Heck, there was no kind of about it. She was freaked out on so many levels right now, she didn’t want to think about any of it.
She shoved her phone and lunch into her big tote bag and opened the door slowly, taking another look around the yard and driveway. Nothing in sight. Ashley locked the door in a hurry and picked up the edges of the bag with the rat in it. Holding it away from her body, she placed it in the garbage can and then hopped in the car. She normally walked to work when the weather was nice, but for right now, the idea of being out in the open and exposed frightened her.
Fear, and a residual feeling of edginess, stayed with her throughout much of the morning. It was summertime, so she didn’t get the usual afternoon influx of teenagers coming in to do homework and projects for school. She did, however, have a group of teens that came in for a bit while waiting for one of the local cycling groups to start. They filled water bottles from the water fountain in the lobby and waved hello to her before heading back out to start their trip. Ashley waved and smiled back at them, but hated that she also found herself eyeing each one of them, trying to assess their potential for hacking off the head of a rat and tormenting her with it.
She didn’t want to be questioning the feelings of every teen that walked in the door. It just felt awful. Ashley prided herself on making the library a welcoming spot in town. It wasn’t your traditional silent space where she shushed patrons over a pair of glasses perched at the tip of her nose. Sure, she wore glasses, but they were fun and funky frames she changed regularly. And she never shushed. She ran a shush-free library and liked it that way.
But for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why anyone other than a disgruntled teen would leave a carcass on her steps.
“Are you okay?” Ashley jumped at the question, then turned to face Haddie, who had been volunteering in the reading room with a group of elementary-aged kids.
“Oh, Haddie,” she said, one hand on her heart. “For the love of Pete, woman, don’t scare me like that.”
Haddie tossed her pink-tinged cloud of hair as though she had gorgeous locks cascading down her back instead of a large poof that only moved a smidge before bouncing back into place. “Would you look at me? Do I look like I’m sneaking up on anyone with a cane that lets everyone know I’m coming and the damn creaking in my hips that I swear sounds like that woman in that movie? What’s that one? In the church?”
Ashley was never sure how, but for some reason she could always guess the movie references Haddie was making with the scattered tidbits the older woman remembered. “Sixteen Candles,” she said, referring to the scene where Molly Ringwald goes back into the church for her sister’s veil and runs into that little lady from Poltergeist whose shoes squeak as she walks.
“Exactly. So don’t you woman me. Why are you so quiet today? Something’s off.”
Ashley smiled. She and Haddie spent a lot of time together. She’d bonded with her early on after starting work at the library. Haddie had even less of an internal filter than Ashley. When Ashley was the person trying to do the filtering in a relationship, well, that was extreme to say the least. It certainly wasn’t something to be proud of. And yet, Haddie could care less. She loved her irreverence and if she was honest, Ashley loved it, too.
“I’m fine, Haddie.” She laughed, feeling lighter than she had all day. She certainly wasn’t going to tell Haddie about the dead rat and get her all freaked out, too. She was overreacting. Letting herself worry all day like this had been foolish. She walked with Haddie out to the front steps and waved as her friend left with one of the other volunteers on her arm. The afternoon sun was still shining, so she spent a few minutes deadheading the flowers out front before going back inside. The library would be empty for much of the rest of the afternoon. She was caught up on her work, so she planned to spend the next few hours perched at the circulation desk, laptop in front of her, as she brainstormed her next plot. She was thinking she might need a female cop as her next heroine. Or maybe a female FBI agent. No, ATF. A woman who knew her way around a weapon or two would be cool.
By the time she looked up from her computer, it was ten minutes before closing time. Only one or two patrons had interrupted her and she’d taken the vague idea of a female ATF agent and matched her up with a hero strong enough to match her heroine’s personality. She had a rough sketch of a plot that included the sabotage of the nation’s water ports and railway system by a zealot hell-bent on interrupting US trade abroad to support his isolationist beliefs. It was still a work in progress with a great many holes. By the end, the plot would most likely look nothing like it did now. But her creative juices were flowing, and that’s all she needed at this stage of the game. With time, her characters—even the bad guy—would start to speak to her, and she’d develop things further.
Ashley saved her work and shut down her computer, waving goodbye as the last of the patrons left through the front doors. She needed to walk the building and make sure no one was left in the stacks or in any of the meeting rooms or the children’s area. The quiet never unsettled her at the end of the night. Her library had always been a sanctuary for her.
But on this night, as she began working her way through the building, shutting off one light after the other, she felt trepidation creep up her spine and wheedle its way into her brain. She wondered if it wouldn’t be a bad idea to leave a few of the lights on in the library overnight. Then again, if she did, chances were John Davies or one of his deputies would come through thinking that something was wrong.
She forced herself to flip off the light in the children’s area, realizing she could hear her own breaths. She was breathing heavily and her heart was galloping at a much faster pace than it usually did. She laughed at herself, trying to break the anxious edge the air had taken on. Only it felt more like she was choking than laughing. She moved as quickly as she could into the main room, rounding the corner planning to douse the lights and grab her things before locking up for th
e night.
She didn’t scream when she hit the body. Her sharp intake of air was the only sound she made before she struck out. She’d learned a lot of things as a foster kid.
One habit that she’d started young and had held on to—she didn’t make a sound. She never screamed or cried out. She wasn’t sure what had started it, exactly. She supposed she’d simply learned at some point that it didn’t help. Not in the world she’d lived in as a child. A lot of the time, it only made things worse. If her attacker got off on pain, on fear…then showing it in any way only egged the person on.
No, she had learned long ago to clamp down on the fear and the pain and fight. Fight hard. And don’t stop fighting until you’re the only one standing.
She lashed out now, not having used these skills for so many years. Too many years. Her hits were weak. Certainly nowhere near strong enough to take on her attacker. He was tall, stronger than a teenager. His body was thick and built, not the lean body of an adolescent. She’d been wrong. Whoever was messing with her head hadn’t been a teenager after all. Whoever this was, she was pitifully outclassed in weight and strength. She wouldn’t be winning this fight.
10
Ashley’s fist hit Garret solidly under the chin and he stepped back, hands raised. The library had been empty when he’d arrived, so he had begun to walk toward the back rooms in search of Ashley. Before he could even call out to her, she’d plowed around the corner and come out swinging hard. At him.
As his teeth clashed together under the surprising blow, his body wanted to fall into the familiar patterns that would deflect and return the assault, but he forced himself to hold his arms at bay.
“Ashley!”
She didn’t stop. She raised one leg and spun, and he recognized the move. His arms came down to deflect the blow. If her foot had connected with his knee at that angle¸ he would have been in a world of pain.
“Ashley!” He shouted now, needing to cut through whatever was going on in her head. Her eyes were wild as she struck out at him, but she seemed to startle at his shout and step back.
“Ashley,” he said now, quietly. The emotions on her face wavered from one extreme to the next. Fear, then shock, and briefly mortification. But mortification was left in the wake, as anger took hold and remained.
“What the heck, Garret? What are you doing sneaking up on me like that? You scared me to death!”
He slowly came forward and put his hands on her upper arms, looking into her flushed face. She was shaking violently, and despite the angry words, he didn’t think her trembling had anything to do with anger. It was fear. She was rocked to the bone.
“Ashley, what is it? What’s got you so frightened?”
She shrugged him off, her breathing still hard. “You. You have me so frightened. Sneaking around in here when I’m trying to close up.”
He watched her face. Something else was going on and she was trying to cover it up with bluster.
“Tell me what’s going on, Ashley.” His voice held the low tone of a man giving a warning. She could storm and rage all she wanted to. He wasn’t going to walk away.
She turned her back on him and walked to the circulation desk, picking up her bag and a computer case. She reached into the office behind the desk and flipped off the light before looking at him again.
“Are you coming? I need to lock up.”
He stayed where he was and watched her, shaking his head slowly. No, he wasn’t coming. He’d wait her out.
“I need to lock up, Garret. The library is closed.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and raised a brow. Hell, in all honesty, he wanted to go get an icepack for his jaw. She’d caught him off guard and had clocked him good with that initial blow. But he’d be damned if he’d let her see that.
She changed tactics, her face taking on a wary defensiveness. “What do you want, Garret?”
He stepped closer to her, but kept his hands to himself. He wanted to pull her small body into his, to hold her close and take away whatever fear had spawned that attack. Wanted to, but wouldn’t. He didn’t know if she was responding to some old fear from a life she’d long left behind, or if this fear was newly kindled. He didn’t care. He wanted to put an end to it.
He lowered his voice. “I want to know what has you so on edge. What really has you frightened, because that back there—” He gestured with a shake of his head toward the hallway she’d just attacked him in front of. “That, Ashley, was one of the biggest overreactions I’ve seen in a long time.”
She seemed to break, although it was silent and subtle when she did. The smallest quiver of her lower lip tipped him off, but then she swiped the back of her hand under one eye and took a deep breath. She was mostly composed, with only the slightest bit of fear showing through the façade by the time she spoke.
“Fine. If you must know, someone is playing some kind of stupid joke on me and it has me on edge. I’m sorry. For hitting you, I mean. I shouldn’t have done that. I just, I got a little spooked and then I turned that corner and ran into you and I just thought I had to fight back. I thought—”
She broke off, and he didn’t want to know what she’d thought. He was filling in the blanks she left with some pretty scary scenarios in his mind. Things he never wanted to think about in relation to Ashley. There were times when being a homicide detective came with a high price. The price of knowing what was out there. Knowing what lurked in the shadows.
And damn, it hit him hard. He did not want Ashley meeting any of those things that went bump in the night. The thought of it alone was enough to make his stomach grind.
“What do you mean someone’s playing a joke on you? What kind of joke?”
She sighed and looked at her feet for a minute before raising her eyes to meet his. She seemed almost defiant as she told him about finding the rat last night, and then re-finding it this morning. She told him it was nothing. Just teens playing a stupid trick on her, most likely in retaliation for some kind of action she’d taken as librarian.
“I just got spooked tonight. That’s all.”
Garret didn’t like the sound of this at all. A punk teen trying to get even for some small slight at the library wouldn’t have hung around and watched her clean up the mess only to retrieve the body and leave it for her again. That brought the whole thing above the level of prank in his book.
“I’ll follow you home. Take a look at things.”
“Really, Garret, that’s not necessary.” She wrapped her arms around her waist in a protective gesture and he wondered why she felt the need. Was she more worried about this than she was letting on?
“I’d feel better if you’d let me. Please, Ashley?”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t object when he followed her out the door and waited as she locked up. As he followed her to her vehicle, his eyes scanned the area. The parking lot was well lit, but she’d parked at the back. He guessed she did that so patrons could take the spots up front, but he didn’t like it.
“Ashley, you should park closer to the building.” He held up his hand when she opened her mouth, cutting her off before she could object. “I get it. You want to let library patrons have the closer spots. But they aren’t coming and going after dark, most of the time.”
“This is a quiet town, with very little crime, Garret. I know you see crime over in Branson Falls, but this is Evers. It’s not the same here.”
He crossed his arms and leveled her with a look. “Wasn’t someone attacked in this quiet town of yours a few months ago? Attacked and then kidnapped? Katelyn Bowden, right? Oh, and then there was that shooting out at the Bishop ranch before that? I read the paper, Ashley. I know Evers has its share of crime.”
Ashley shook her head and gave him what he was sure was her most pitying look, as if he were a child dreaming of monsters under the bed or goblins in the closet. “Those were isolated incidences with someone who was out to get them.”
He raised a brow. “Like the someone who left a decapi
tated rat on your doorstep?”
“That’s not the same.”
He had to hold in a laugh when she actually stomped her foot at him. “All the same, Ashley, park a little closer.” He pointed to a spot that wasn’t directly in front of the door but still gave her more light and was very visible from the street. “That spot there gives you the safety you need without taking up a prime spot in front of the door. It’s a good compromise.”
She rolled her eyes at him again and walked to her car. He gave a quick peek under the car as they approached and looked in through the windows. All clear. Ignoring her laughter at his caution, he opened the door for her, then shut it when she’d slipped in.
“I’ll follow you,” he said, and went to his car.
As he tailed her home, he began to think of possible scenarios other than a disgruntled teenager. He couldn’t help but wonder if a fan had discovered her real name and was focused on her. Or an ex who wasn’t happy about the breakup. He wasn’t surprised at the way he reacted to that thought. What he was surprised by was the intensity and the visceral level of his response. If it was an ex doing this to her, he wanted to gut the guy. Talk about an overreaction.
The house was mere blocks from the library, on what appeared to be a quiet side road. The houses were small, older bungalows with tidy little yards and single-car garages. Some had only a carport. A few had a child’s bike in the yard or a swing tied to a large tree in the front.
Ashley pulled into the driveway of a small yellow house. The paint color was light and cheerful, with clean white shutters and a small white porch. The house had its own unique style, with one side of it made out of corrugated metal flashing. If anyone had described the house to him, he’d have said it would be ugly, but it wasn’t. Somehow, it totally worked and made the house stand out.
He pulled over to the curb and parked, getting out and meeting Ashley at the front. She grumbled at him as she unlocked the door.