Hidden Target

by Rebecca Deel

  Madison caught her mother’s eye and motioned that she would be outside for a minute. Her eyes watered in the sunlight, and the blistering heat and pea-soup humidity made it hard to breathe.

  “Bates is at the police station.”

  Her eyes widened. Madison’s fingers resembled icicles despite the stifling heat and the warmth of Nick’s hand. She found it hard to believe Bates now resided behind bars. Relief bubbled inside her. Could her nightmare be over this fast?

  “Don’t get your hopes up yet. Ethan hasn’t arrested him. He’s questioning Bates about the sniper rifle.”

  “But he will arrest Bates, right?”

  Nick slipped on a pair of sunglasses with his free hand. “If that rifle was used in the commission of a crime and Ethan can tie him to it.” His thumb caressed the underside of her wrist, making her pulse race. Could he feel the jackhammer pulse thumping in her veins? “You shouldn’t stay outside in this heat. Take care of your customers. I’ll return soon.”

  Madison frowned. Was he joking? Did he think she’d let him go to the station without her? She refused to let him gallop into the sunset while she stayed behind at the ranch with one hand pressed to her heart and the other waving a white hankie. She wanted to see for herself Bates couldn’t hurt her or the people she loved. “I’m going with you.”

  “I’m not part of the law enforcement community any more. Ethan didn’t invite me to watch the interrogation. I’m going to Petals, see if I can trace the dead roses. If we connect Bates to the roses or your car, Ethan can charge him with stalking.”

  She wanted to go with him, but milling customers still filled the store. Mom could handle the crowd, but she didn’t want to leave her alone.

  “You have a business to run, Madison. I won’t be long.”

  “I want to know everything you find out.” She tilted her head to stare up at him. “No holding back.”

  He squeezed her hand and walked across the square.

  Madison stared at his receding back, her hand still tingling from his touch until a honking horn from a passing motorist refocused her attention on her surroundings. She twisted the doorknob and stepped inside the store.

  Liz glanced up from bagging another customer’s order. “Mrs. Kingsley’s looking for more sock yarn, honey.”

  Madison smiled at Susan Kingsley, the short, red-headed grandmother watching her with a hopeful gaze while guarding her handful of sock yarn. Mrs. Kingsley’s hair was a bright Lucille Ball-red this week. The woman changed hair color almost as often as Megan changed shoes. “I have denim blue and some self-striping skeins still in my work room. I haven’t put them out yet.”

  “I’ll take them.” Mrs. Kingsley grip on the skeins in her hand tightened.

  Madison’s eyebrows rose. “All of them?”

  “All,” she said. “My children and grandchildren requested handmade socks for Christmas.” Her beaming smile spoke of her triumph at securing more yarn. “When will you order more?”

  Madison laughed and embraced her friend. “I’ll have more for you by next Friday. Any particular color you want?”

  “More self-striping. Oh, and could you order another set of rosewood sock needles? They break easy and I can’t afford to lose time tracking down more.”

  Madison made a mental note to order three extra sets of those needles. Mrs. Kingsley tended to leave her knitting in chairs around the house. Her grandchildren had leaped before looking more than once, which meant emergency trips to The Bare Ewe for replacement needles.

  After grabbing the yarn from her desk, she returned to the front of the store and laid the yarn on the counter. Mrs. Kingsley’s eyes lit up. Minutes later, she left with a happy smile wreathing her face, a full shopping bag clutched in her hand. After Madison waited on the remaining customers, she sighed, glad for the silence.

  “Here, Mom.” Madison pushed a cushioned chair toward Liz. “Sit down for a few minutes. I didn’t know we could squeeze so many people into the store.”

  “Nick drew a crowd, didn’t he?” Liz smiled. “That scene outside by his car looked interesting. Still sticking by your ‘just friends’ story?”

  Heat rose in Madison’s cheeks. Diversionary tactics were in order unless she wanted to bare her soul. Though close to her family, she wasn’t ready to talk yet. She dragged a basket from under the counter. This should be large enough. “Pastor Lang told you about Julia?”

  Liz nodded. “Are you planning to visit?”

  “Later this afternoon.” At the knitting needle display, she selected two pairs of short, colorful needles. “Let’s put some fun yarn in that basket. Julia loves bright colors.”

  While her mother pulled sherbet colored yarn, Madison wandered to the book rack and selected a knitting book for children. Julia reached for this book every time she visited the shop with her mother. Madison placed the book in the basket along with the needles.

  She studied the knitting magazines, her thoughts whirling. Karen would spend a lot of time at Julia’s bedside. She plucked the latest issue of Karen’s favorite magazine from the rack and flipped through pages until she found the right pattern. Karen raved about this sweater last week. She’d planned to buy the supplies later in the month.

  Madison did some quick calculations, found another basket and filled it with purple heather yarn, a pair of needles and an extra copy of the magazine. She slipped in a small ruler and a pair of scissors, wrapped the gift basket with clear plastic, and tied it together with a bow.

  “Is that for Karen?” Liz laid several neon-colored balls and skeins on the counter.

  “Julia’s going to love those, Mom.” Some of the yarn contained multi-colored flecks while others sparkled under The Bare Ewe’s lights, all in colors her young knitter loved. “I thought Karen could use a basket, too.”

  “That’s thoughtful of you, Madison. Do you need someone to go with you to the hospital, honey?” Sympathy filled Liz’s eyes. “This won’t be easy for you.”

  “I’ll be fine.” Madison arranged the yarn in Julia’s basket, so the contents looked tempting. She covered the basket in clear plastic, tied together with a hot pink bow.

  Glancing at the clock, she frowned. What was taking Nick so long?

  Nick recoiled from the overpowering scent of flowers assaulting his nose. Statues and stuffed animals peeped from the silk jungle engulfing the flower shop. Ribbons and wind chimes danced in the breeze from ceiling fans. He recognized Georgia’s touch in the whimsy and beauty of the flower shop.

  “Can I help you?”

  He turned, smiled at the slim, dark-haired woman. “How are you, Georgia?”

  “Nick.” Her gray eyes sparkled behind gold-rimmed glasses. Georgia closed the distance between them with an athletic stride and swept him into a hug. “I haven’t seen you since Luke . . .” She stepped away, her face awash with color. She waved him to chairs near coolers full of live flowers. “What brings you to Otter Creek?”

  He sat in the seat furthest from the heady floral scent, the mixture of aromas already triggering a headache. Madison didn’t wear perfume, just an apple-scented something which made his mouth water when he was near her. “Madison.”

  “Sounds promising.” The corners of her mouth curved. “Should I order extra white roses?”

  Nick blinked. He hadn’t thought about that problem. She might not like a blatant reminder of those dead flowers. “Better try something else for a while.”

  “Chief Blackhawk came in this morning, and Madison called before I opened. Hard to believe someone would do this to her.”

  “Did the roses come from your shop?”

  “The lavender box is from here.” She rose. “It’s our signature box color.” She grabbed her order pad from a nearby desk, handed it to him and sat. “And we delivered a dozen white roses to St. Mark’s Lutheran Church. No other orders for white roses.” She furrowed her brow. “You know, I did overhear one of the clerks at the drugstore say she received white roses from her boyfriend.”


  “Who was the clerk?”

  Georgia lifted her shoulder. “I was in the next aisle looking for band-aids, so I didn’t see who made the comment.”

  Nick made a mental note to drop by the pharmacy tomorrow. No time to chase this lead before tonight’s church service. “When did you overhear the comment?”

  “A few days after my delivery boy made the run to St. Mark’s.”

  He searched Georgia’s orders. Nick could place Bates in Knoxville on September 3. Georgia’s worker delivered the roses on September 4. “You found the order in an envelope with cash?”

  “I told Chief Blackhawk most orders come by phone or email. Whoever left the envelope dropped it into the store through the mail slot. I couldn’t find a postmark.”

  By the time Nick left Petals 30 minutes later, he’d listened to horror stories about lame flower costumes in a ballet recital for Georgia’s daughter, Emily, and caught up on the latest news about her husband and parents. After checking the time, he increased his pace.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  At 4:00, Nick walked into the shop and greeted Madison and her mother. The spring-loaded tension inside Madison eased. She rushed toward him. “Well? Heard anything from Ethan yet?”

  “Did Ethan find Bates already?” Liz’s gaze flitted between Madison and Nick.

  He grinned. “Yes, Ethan is interrogating Bates, and no, I haven’t heard anything yet. I doubt we’ll hear anything until later.”

  Before she could voice her complaint about the delay, the front door flew open. Her automatic smile froze. The owner of Otter Creek Lumber stalked into the store. “Mrs. Ryder, my customers couldn’t find any place to park today because of your lunchtime festivities.”

  For a few seconds, Madison stared at her balding, pudgy landlord. He glared at her with his hands perched on his hips. She pressed her lips. Hard to believe someone could be grumpier than Meg. If she plied her sister with coffee, she could escape from Meg’s lair with minor scratches, but a vat of honey wouldn’t sweeten Charles Howard’s disposition.

  She filled her lungs, ready to launch into a lecture on retail courtesy, when a hand squeezed her arm.

  “I apologize. I’m to blame for the crowd problem.” Nick stepped past her and held out his hand, a disarming smile on his lips. “Nick Santana.”

  Howard reined in his temper with visible effort. “Charles Howard. I own the hardware store.”

  “He owns the whole building, Nick.” Her voice held a subtle warning. “Mr. Howard’s my landlord.”

  “Great to meet you, Mr. Howard. Madison needs new locks, outside motion detector lights and slide locks for her house. Would you be available to help me select them?”

  New locks? Madison grinned at Howard’s quick change of attitude. His face glowed. She’d been meaning to upgrade the locks and outside security lights at her house ever since her brother, Josh, warned about their inadequacy before he returned to active duty. He’d wanted to change them himself, but Mom threatened to hold all his care packages from home if he did anything the military doctors hadn’t given him permission to do. Even her tough-as-shoe-leather Army Ranger brother didn’t dare cross Mom.

  “Be happy to help you with those supplies.” Howard pulled a small notebook and pen from his shirt pocket and wrote a few quick notes. “I’ll put together an assortment of my best security inventory for you to examine. What time should I expect you?”

  “I’ll stop by tomorrow about 10:15. That should give you a few minutes to take care of pressing customer needs. Appreciate you helping me out with this, Mr. Howard. You’ve heard about the problems Madison’s been having?”

  Howard’s expression sobered. “Yes, the harassment.”

  “I’m sure you planned to offer help strengthening her security.”

  Color stained the store owner’s cheeks. “Of course. Hadn’t got around to it yet.” He shook Nick’s hand. “See you tomorrow.” Before Madison could blink, the door closed behind Howard.

  “Bravo, Nick.” Liz laughed and placed the two gift baskets on the counter.

  She echoed her mother’s statement. In a matter of seconds, Nick managed to size up her landlord, diffuse an explosive scene and made the man feel guilty for not coming to her aid sooner.

  “What’s the story on Howard?”

  “Too long for discussion right now.” Liz’s gaze shifted to Madison. “When did you plan to see Julia?” She pushed the two baskets forward. “If you want to go now, I’ll close the store for you.”

  “How far is the hospital from here?” Nick asked

  “About ten minutes,” Madison said. “Will you have time to take me or do you need to prepare for playing guitar at church tonight?”

  “I already warmed up during lunch today.” He glanced at Liz. “Mind if I take your daughter to dinner before church?”

  Liz smiled. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. Maybe you can get her to eat something healthy.”

  Nick laughed. With flushed cheeks, Madison retreated to her office and grabbed her purse, hoping Nick would forget her mother’s comment before they ordered. She craved a milkshake. Did that count as healthy food? It contained milk.

  When she returned, she picked up both baskets. “After the busy day we had, we need to make a bank deposit.”

  “I’ll take care of everything, honey. Enjoy your meal. Hug Julia for me.” Liz waved them out the door.

  Nick shifted his guitar to his right hand. “Let me carry one of those baskets.” He examined the contents of Julia’s basket. His brow wrinkled. “This looks like a bunch of gummi worms tied in a knot.” He opened the car door for Madison, set both baskets in the back seat with his guitar, and slid into the driver’s seat.

  Madison’s stomach twisted into a knot. Just thinking about going into that hospital made her feel queasy. She spent a lot of recovery time at St. Anne in Knoxville, but the smells and sounds of any hospital brought back the feelings of loss and helplessness.

  “You all right?”

  Madison jerked her head to look at Nick. A smile curved her lips at the well-meant question. “Other than a desperate need for a Coke, I’m fine.”

  He reached for her hand and threaded his fingers through hers. They drove in silence for a few miles. “How can I make your visit with Julia easier?”

  “Just be there.”

  Nick parked under the shade of a Bradford Pear. Leaves shimmered in the breeze. The hot stream of air sent branches into a dance. He wished the wind felt as cool as it looked from inside his air-conditioned car.

  While the engine idled, he twisted to face Madison. Her pale skin and shallow breathing made his stomach tighten in a knot of sympathy. “Ready?”

  She shook her head. The haunted look in her eyes reminded him of those long nights by her hospital bed while she worked through pain and grief. He sighed. Madison had to face down the fear herself. At least she didn’t have to deal with this alone.

  He squeezed the hand she’d left nestled in his all the way to the hospital. “It’s good you are in Julia’s life right now, Madison. Doesn’t seem fair for a six-year-old to be in a battle for her life, but if anyone can understand that battle, it’s you.”

  Madison’s hot tears dripped onto his fingers. Nick tightened his hold on her hand and swallowed hard against his own tangled emotions. “I know you’re fighting a battle right now with overwhelming memories. But you are strong. You can do this.”

  He pressed a couple of tissues into her hand and got out of the car. When he opened her door and reached out his hand to help her, she pulled herself up and moved into his arms. Surprised, he folded her close, his eyes burning.

  “Thanks,” she whispered, her head resting on his chest, arms tight around his waist.

  She must feel his heart pounding as if it wanted to leap right out of his chest. Nick kissed the top of her head and released her. He reached into the car and pulled out his guitar. By the time he lifted the Kendalls’ baskets from the back seat and handed one to Madison, he’d regained co
mmand of his voice. “Let’s cheer up your knitting elf.”

  The familiar scent of antiseptic and rubbing alcohol made her stomach clench and twist. She walked down the corridor on shaky legs and stopped in front of Julia’s room.

  With his hand on the doorknob, Nick said, “Should I wait in the hall?”

  Madison shook her head. “I want you to meet Julia and I know she’d love to meet you.”

  He looked doubtful, but nodded and motioned for her to go ahead of him through the doorway.

  She tapped on the door. Instead of the standard utilitarian cream paint, the walls sported colorful rainbows, fluffy white clouds and swooping birds. Madison smiled at the dark-haired woman rising from a chair to greet her. “Hi, Karen. How are you?”

  Karen’s mouth curved into a wan smile. “I’m a little tired.” She turned to her daughter. “Look who’s here to see you, baby.”

  Julia looked like a small china doll lying in the hospital bed. Long dark hair curled in ringlets framed her pale face and set off her huge dark eyes. “Miss Madison, you came to see me.” The child held out her thin arms.

  Madison gave the child a gentle hug, afraid to hold her too tight. A good gust of wind would carry her away. “How’s my favorite knitter?”

  “I have to stay in the hospital. The doctor says I need special medicine.” She eyed the basket Nick held as he placed his guitar against the wall. “What’s that?”

  “You know, the funniest thing happened at the shop today. This beautiful basket showed up on my counter filled with things I knew my favorite knitting elf would enjoy.” She took Julia’s basket from Nick’s outstretched hand and laid it on the girl’s lap. “When you don’t feel like knitting, you can look at the pictures in the book and plan projects for later when you’re feeling better.”

  Karen smiled. “Oh, Madison, how thoughtful.”

  “I also brought a friend to meet you.” Madison grinned, wondering what kind of reaction her next statement would bring. “Julia, this is Nick Santana.”