by Honor Bound
“I did not. Sit anywhere you want.” Kelly put a basket filled with bread on the table. The bread dripped with melted cheese and fresh garlic and Ben snagged a piece, his stomach rumbling.
“Poppa, you haf’ to wait for grace,” Toby scolded. “I get to say it tonight.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry, pal.” Ben repentantly put the bread on a plate and rumpled his son’s hair.
Gravely Toby waited until everyone had taken hands and bowed their heads. “Thank you, God, for everything, but ’specially my family and Miss Kelly. And please take extra care of my mommy. Amen.”
Kelly smiled at him. “That was very nice.”
Ben accepted a plate from Kelly and gazed at the huge square of lasagna she’d served him. Cheese and rich sauce oozed from between the layers and his mouth watered. He couldn’t understand how she stayed so slim with the way she cooked. Fast metabolism, he decided, digging his fork into the pasta.
The adults were quiet during the meal. If it hadn’t been for Toby the conversation would have lagged completely.
The fact that his son remembered his “mommy” in his prayers troubled Ben. Had he made a mistake, taking Toby so far from where she lived? Dawn’s wishes were clear; Toby wasn’t to call her, and she wouldn’t call him. But what if she changed her mind? It would be easier to make quick contact if they lived in the same city, instead of an isolated Oregon town.
Parenting was tough. It led to self-doubt, which Ben hated. He had to be decisive as a cop; he couldn’t afford to second-guess himself in life-and-death situations. Risking his safety was part of the game; but compared to being a father, law enforcement was easy.
KELLY COULD TELL THAT BEN and Henry were distracted over dinner, but didn’t have a chance to learn why before they went home. She finished scrubbing the lasagna pan, lit a fire in the hearth and collapsed on the couch in front of it, utterly exhausted.
That’s what too many emotions did to a person. It was better not to feel so much. She ached for Toby, who missed his mother, but she’d grieve for Gina and Henry when Ben eventually decided he’d had enough of small-town life and returned to Los Angeles with his son.
She was half-asleep and the flames were licking around the logs in the fireplace when the phone rang.
Yawning, she pulled the receiver from the coffee table. “Hello.”
“It’s Ben. I wanted to remind you to keep the doors and windows locked, and not to go outside after dark,” he said without preamble.
Tension crept through Kelly. “That’s what Henry told me before you all left. What’s happened?”
“Nothing.”
“I don’t believe you. Henry is overprotective, so I expect him to tell me to be careful. You have a reason.”
“Can’t I just be overprotective, too?”
“Not of me.”
Ben made a low sound, whether from exasperation or something else, she didn’t know. “Nothing has happened, but it looks as if someone has spent more time hanging around the house. The grass is trampled in a larger area, and we found fresh footprints on the driveway, most likely from a man’s shoes.”
“You or Henry could have left them.”
“They weren’t our size or style.”
A cold, creeping sensation crawled up Kelly’s rib cage and over her shoulders. She scrunched deeper into the couch.
“Footprints don’t necessarily mean anything,” she managed to say with reasonable calm.
“You’re right. They don’t. What they do mean is that you should be more cautious than usual. I’m ordering extra patrols in your neighborhood until we figure this out. If someone has been watching the house, that will probably scare them off.”
“Do you think it’s related to my writing?”
“I don’t know. Possibly.”
“My publisher would let me know if—”
“Maybe,” Ben interrupted, “but even if you submit manuscripts by email, don’t you get snail mail from them?”
Kelly thought about the copies of her novels that she’d received, edited manuscripts sent to her for review and a variety of mailings that clearly showed the name and address of her publishing house.
“Quite a bit, actually. Why?”
“Sand Point is a small town. You’re well-known because of your position in City Hall and—” Ben stopped for a moment and Kelly waited. The house seemed unusually silent, as if holding its breath. “Uh, because your father-in-law used to be the mayor.”
Strange. She knew what Ben had intended to say. She was known as the widow of a man the whole town idolized. It was the kind of celebrity she could do without.
“What does my mail have to do with anything? It’s private, protected by Federal law.”
“Someone at the post office may have started guessing and it wouldn’t take much for rumors to circulate. And, uh, your husband probably mentioned your writing novels at the fire station, so his coworkers could suspect. You have to accept that someone else may put the pieces together, if they haven’t already.”
The cold sensation in her body intensified and Kelly crossed one arm across her stomach. The fire was crackling brightly now, but the heat didn’t seem to reach her. “So you think there’s a connection between all of this.”
“It’s just speculation at this point. Look, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to freak you out. These things usually end up being nothing, but you have to take precautions. If you get worried call 911, then me. Put my number on your speed dial.”
Kelly pursed her lips, common sense reasserting itself. She was not going to call Ben. And she’d only call 911 if something actually happened, like a door getting kicked in, or she heard the sound of breaking glass.
“Kelly?” Ben prompted.
“Yes, fine, I’ll keep everything locked up.”
“Good. Sleep well…and thanks for dinner.”
“You’re welcome.” Kelly squirmed. It was funny the things you said to people out of courtesy. Ben knew she hadn’t really wanted him to come for dinner; yet he’d thanked her, and she’d replied in kind. Maybe saying how they really felt would be too dangerous…if they even understood it themselves.
BEN FROWNED AS HE TURNED off the receiver. The initial fear in Kelly’s voice was nearly gone by the end of the conversation. He hoped she was taking their warnings seriously. If someone was stalking her, for whatever reason, she needed to be extremely careful.
Toby was splashing in the tub and Ben glanced through the open doorway. “Did you wash your neck?”
“Yes, Poppa. All clean.”
He shook out a fresh towel. “Come on, pal. It’s bedtime.”
His son obediently climbed out and dived into the fluffy towel, giggling when Ben rubbed his face and hair and pretended to find enough dirt to “plant potatoes in” behind his ears. It was the same way Aunt Gina had teased him as a boy.
When his prayers were done, including the usual one for God to “take care of my mommy,” Toby burrowed under the blankets.
“Do you want me to read to you?” Ben asked.
“Uh-huh. That one,” the boy said, pointing to a worn copy of Charlie and The Chocolate Factory. He loved Charlie and the Oompa Loompas, though Ben suspected it was the rivers of chocolate that Toby dreamed about.
After a few pages Toby’s eyelids drooped and he curled on his side. Two more pages and he was sound asleep.
Ben sat on the bed, watching him and mentally cursing his ex-wife. The fact she hadn’t wanted visitation made things easier in some ways, but there were consequences for Toby. He hated that his son was paying for other people’s mistakes.
It was a long time before Ben got up and went into the living room. He sat down with the files on the murders and pored over them, wanting to be sure he hadn’t missed anything. An hour later he tossed the material back in his briefcase, frustrated with his lack of focus. He had two murders and death threats against the mayor to resolve and he couldn’t concentrate worth a damn.
He didn’t enjoy thinking
about his ex-wife. When she’d filed for divorce all he felt was disgust and a huge sense of relief. If it hadn’t been for Toby he would have ended the marriage himself much earlier. Even Dawn’s infidelity hadn’t surprised him. People didn’t usually surprise him…except Kelly. She was a bigger mystery to him now than when they were eighteen.
Back then he had assumed she was like her mother. Yet he’d really liked Kelly, and it scared the hell out of him when he fell for her. Perhaps that’s why her speedy engagement to someone else had wounded his ego—he’d wanted to believe she’d loved him back. But it couldn’t have been easy losing her mother so young and having no other family. Getting married might have seemed the only alternative to an otherwise bleak future.
Ben had never been in Kelly’s shoes, and he hadn’t done anything to help her. He hadn’t even comprehended the enormity of her situation. So how could he blame her for taking care of herself?
ON WEDNESDAY EVENING KELLY attended the Kite and Blackberry Festival committee meeting. The continued onslaught of the flu had further ravaged the ranks, leaving Mirabelle Nolan to temporarily chair the meeting.
“Thank heaven you came,” Mirabelle said urgently when Kelly walked into the community center.
“What’s wrong?”
“We don’t have a quorum. I’m putting you on the committee so some decisions can be made.”
“I can only represent the city at these meetings, not vote,” Kelly said. “But it isn’t seven yet. More members could get here.”
“Darn it all.” Mirabelle was a nice lady, but she preferred telling the chairman and committee what to do from the sidelines, rather than take any official responsibility. She’d been unofficially running the festival for years.
Sand Point had a number of events throughout the year, but the K and B was the biggest and most popular.
“What decisions are left?” Kelly asked.
“Oh, this and that.” Mirabelle waved her hand vaguely before rushing off.
Kelly greeted the committee members who’d managed to dodge the flu so far, and sat down with a sigh. She was debating whether she ought to rent an out-of-town post office box to receive mail from her publisher. It would be inconvenient, but more anonymous. On the other hand, if Ben was right, it might be too late for countermeasures. For all she knew, half of Sand Point could already be speculating as to whether she was Griffin Bell.
Another couple of people drifted in and the meeting started. They debated changing the rules for the kite contest for an hour, while Mirabelle kept repeating that it wasn’t fair to the people who’d planned all year to compete under the old rules.
She was correct, of course.
Mirabelle usually was.
They finally motioned to change the rules for the following year and it passed without protest. Other decisions were made more quickly and the meeting ended by nine.
Kelly headed home, belatedly remembering that Henry and Ben had both said not to go outside after dark. She pulled into the drive, making sure to shine her headlights along the stand of bushes at the side of the property. Nobody was there, yet her skin pricked with nervous awareness as she hurried to the front door and let herself in.
She locked it behind her and drew a deep breath. She hated feeling vulnerable. It was the not knowing that was driving her crazy. How much was her imagination, and how much was real? If she heard a noise at night, was it her cat or something to be anxious about? But she didn’t plan on giving in to her nerves. This was a temporary situation. Ben would solve the murders, he would find out who was threatening the mayor, and everything would go back to normal.
The phone rang insistently and she answered in the kitchen.
“Where have you been?” Gina demanded. “I’ve been trying to reach you for over twenty minutes, both at home and on your mobile.”
“I just got in. I had the K and B festival committee meeting tonight so the cell was off.”
“Oh, bother, I forgot.”
Kelly filled the kettle and flipped the switch on the stove. “It’s still early and I’m home safe and sound. You shouldn’t have worried.”
“But it’s dark,” Gina wailed. “Henry went to Rotary club, so when I couldn’t get you, I sent Ben over. He’ll be there any minute.”
“Call him and tell him to turn around.”
But it was too late. Headlights flared across the driveway and Kelly groaned. “He’s here. I have to go.”
She could see Ben’s Jeep from the window and flung the door open before he could knock.
“Honestly, Ben, you shouldn’t have let Gina go bonkers on you. I was at the community center.”
His T-shirt was on inside out, the snap on his jeans was undone, and his dark hair was damp and mussed. Gina must have gotten him out of the shower.
“Kelly, we told you to be—”
“You can’t expect me to stop doing my job.”
Ben raked his fingers over his head. “I don’t know what I expect. Nothing works here the way it does in the city.” He looked so bewildered that Kelly’s heart melted a fraction. It must be hard adjusting to Sand Point after Los Angeles; she ought to be more understanding.
All at once flashing blue lights lit up the yard and her sympathy vanished. “You called for backup? Just because I didn’t answer the phone?”
“We’ll argue about it later.”
He met the officer getting out of the cruiser and they spoke for a couple of minutes. Then the neighbors showed up.
“Is everything okay, Kelly?” Mr. Jacobi called from next door. He wore a blue-plaid, flannel bathrobe and carried a baseball bat.
“It’s fine. I’m sorry you were disturbed,” she called back. “We had a…a miscommunication is all.”
“Glad it wasn’t anything more serious.” He rested the baseball bat on his shoulder. He was short and had the sturdy build of a wrestler…if the wrestler was eighty-five-years old. “We’re here if you need us.”
BEN WAITED UNTIL EVERYONE left before walking back to the house. He was cold, pissed with himself and mildly embarrassed.
Kelly regarded him silently.
“I’m not going to apologize.”
“What a surprise.” She turned and went inside. Since she didn’t shut the door in his face, he followed her into the kitchen where the high-pitched shriek of a teakettle filled the air. She switched off the burner. “You didn’t have to come.”
“Gina was worried. She was sure you should be at home and says you always answer the phone if you’re here.”
Kelly banged two cups on the counter. “Not if I’m up to my elbows in bread dough or taking a bath. Did either of you think of that?”
Ben shrugged and tiredly dropped into a chair. He’d argued with himself on the short drive to her place, but he couldn’t have refused his aunt’s plea to be sure that nothing was wrong. Unfortunately, now he would have to explain to Toby why Gina had frantically rushed in saying Kelly might be in trouble.
“By the way,” he said. “I wasn’t the one who called the police dispatch. That must have been Aunt Gina. It’s not like her, but everyone has their moments.”
Kelly handed him a steaming cup and he closed his fingers around its warmth. He was still getting used to the cooler weather in Sand Point. As he recalled from his summers in Oregon, a really “hot” day was around seventy-five degrees, and summer was over now.
“You know, I’m not helpless,” she said. “I can take care of myself. Henry taught me basic self-defense when I was a kid and we practiced every week. He’d say it’s best to know a few moves well so they become automatic when you need to react.”
It hadn’t occurred to Ben that his uncle would have trained Kelly to protect herself. On the other hand, knowing self-defense wouldn’t save her from a bullet. He wisely drank some tea rather than pointing that out.
“They should trust me,” she added.
“It isn’t a question of trusting you. The problem is the unknown. What moves did Henry teach you?”
“Good advice. Show me.”
She blinked. “Now?”
“Sure. Convince me, and I’ll work on calming the two of them down.” He set his cup on the table and got up. “Come on, let’s say I approach from the front and I’m trying to get your purse. Show me what you’d do.”
Kelly stood reluctantly. “I don’t think this is the best idea.”
“Sure it is.”
He grabbed her arm.
The next thing he knew, she’d kneed him in the groin and let her hand fly toward his nose. Ben jerked backward and caught her free hand.
She hadn’t kneed him that hard, but there was definite discomfort where she’d made contact. If she’d really gone after him, he’d be in a world of pain. He stared into her determined blue eyes and wondered how many people had underestimated Kelly in her life…and if he was one of them.
“Not bad,” he muttered.
“I’m glad you approve.”
“And I’m glad you didn’t demonstrate your…skills…as vigorously as you might have.”
“I was tempted to make you a soprano, but I didn’t want to hurt my knee.”
“Yeah?”
He broke eye contact, glancing down at her body. Her breasts stood out beneath her thin sweater, and the way he held her arms accentuated each curve. The discomfort in his groin turned into a different kind of ache.
Damn.
“I’ll let Uncle Henry know you remember his lessons,” he said hoarsely.
“Do that.”
CHAPTER SIX
THINGS WERE BLESSEDLY quiet for a few days. Gina phoned to apologize for going “Rambo Mother Hen” on her, and Kelly was able to laugh the incident off. But the strange, intense moment she and Ben had shared in her kitchen wasn’t so easy to dismiss.
She could have sworn he’d wanted to kiss her, though considering the fact she’d kneed him in a vulnerable location, it was impossible to know what he’d had in mind.