by Leger, Lori
Carrie gave a low whistle. “That’s nearly a quarter of a century.”
“Oh, you’re funny.”
“So I’ve been told.” She smothered her laughter. “I’m sorry.”
“Like hell you are. You enjoy making me squirm.”
“I love watching all men squirm, I admit it.”
“I keep telling you, we’re not all like Dave.”
Carrie studied him silently for several seconds before replying. “I’m beginning to accept that.”
Sam nodded as he pulled up under the carport next to her sedan. He threw his truck into park and turned off the engine. Dozens of strands of Christmas lights strung along his porch filled the pick-up’s cab with a multicolored glow. He felt her staring at his profile, and resisted the urge to straighten, to make himself look taller. His head nearly touched the liner of his truck’s cab as it was.
Carrie reached out with her fingertip to trace the bridge of his nose.
“I know. I have a big nose.” He puckered to kiss her fingers.
“I like it. I like your looks, and I love being with such a tall man. But, you know what I like best of all?”
He gathered her fingers in his hand and brought them to his lips for another kiss. “What?”
“I like your character. This is different for me, Sam. This is mature admiration for a man I’ve worked with for a few months. I like you.”
He stared at her, as the wind whistled in from the north, audible over the soft clicks of the cooling engine. It buffeted the side of his truck and caused it to rock slightly. The Canadian cold front had moved through, accompanied by icy winds and low humidity sure to dry up water left from two days of drenching rains.
He shook his head before tearing his gaze from hers. “I can’t help thinking you could do a lot better than me.”
“Sam.” She reached out to him with her free hand. “There is no better.”
He caught her hand with his own and turned his face to place a gentle kiss on the inside of her palm. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Sixteen months of being alone has taught me a lot about myself, things I didn’t want to know. I made a lot of mistakes in my marriage.”
“It didn’t come with an owner’s manual, did it?”
“Nope, and neither did the kids.”
Carrie laughed softly. “I’d love do-overs with my kids, especially Grant. I was so green when he was born. I’m sure I’ve scarred him for life.” She pulled her coat closer to her body and checked her watch. “It’s a quarter to eleven, and I have a busy day ahead of me. This night flew by, didn’t it?”
“It’s the best night I’ve had in a long time.” Sam glanced sideways at her. “You have time to take a little walk?”
“Will it take long?”
He got out of his truck and walked around to meet her. “Just over there. Come on, the walk will help to wake you up for the drive home.” He held out his hand and she took it. He walked with her to the end of the street and crossed the intersection to stop in front of the house on the corner lot.
“Who lives here?”
“No one right now, but I wanted you to see this place. It’s for rent—very reasonable, three bedrooms, two baths, all kitchen appliances, along with a brand new washer and dryer. I happen to know the owner personally. He doesn’t need the money. Just wants it lived in by someone who won’t tear the place up.” He turned toward her. “I just thought, since you were about to move, maybe you’d want to get something a little closer to work. You know, less gas, less time on the road—”
“And conveniently close to you,” she added, her voice tinged with suspicion.
He reached out to place both hands on her shoulders. “You’d be neighbors with a couple of cops. Doug’s across the street. Works for Kenton PD. Ben’s a deputy with the Sheriff’s Department, and he lives on the opposite end of the block. I admit though, it’d be nice to have you so close.”
She smiled sadly up at him. “I told you about my kids wanting to be in Gardiner, Sam. Their friends are all there, and their lives are in enough turmoil as it is.”
“They’ll make new friends, Carrie. If they’re anything like their mom, they’ll make friends no matter what school they attend.”
Carrie studied the house, as he watched for a reaction. By the time she turned back to face him, his hope had faded. He stared down at his boots and kicked at the cracked edge of the stone walkway. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, unable to hide his disappointment. “It’s not all selfishness. I worry about you, dammit. Phone calls, barking dogs—” He pointed across the street toward her car. “Not to mention broken windshields from crazy ex-husband’s.”
She pulled her coat tighter and gave a delicate sniff. “It’s all Dave, just Dave, and I can handle him.”
“I hate to say this, but what if it’s not? What if he really doesn’t know anything about the calls?”
“It is him,” she insisted.
“He didn’t admit to it.”
“And risk having more ammo for me to use against him? No way would he admit to it. Don’t worry about me, Sam. I’ll be fine.”
He nodded and took her hand. “All right, then. Let’s get you back to where it’s warm.”
As they walked back over to Sam’s place, Carrie stopped to breathe out a puff of icy smoke. She squinted into the darkness and reached out her hand. “It’s sleeting.”
They stood listening to the quiet tick, tick, ticking sounds as the tiny droplets of ice made contact with the street and sidewalk. Carrie hugged her coat tighter to her and turned for the porch. “I need the bathroom first, but then I have to go. I don’t want to drive on frozen roads.”
He managed to spit out the first part of the warning. “Careful, the steps are starting to fr—” just as her foot slipped on a small patch of ice on the step. Sam caught her, saving her from a painful, butt first landing on the cold, wet sidewalk.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice husky with concern, as he held tightly to her.
Carrie regained her footing, but remained in his arms, her back to his front. She covered his forearms with her own. “Yes, you do,” she murmured, letting her head fall back against his chest.
He heard her soft, satisfied sigh as he tightened his grip on her, before turning her loose with a reluctant groan.
The hallway clock struck eleven as she exited the bathroom. Carrie bit her lower lip, knowing she had to leave, and dreading the next week with no Sam. He stood vigil at the steps and helped her safely down. She lifted her chin, determined to hide the tumultuous range of emotions raging through her. “Merry Christmas, Sam.”
He stepped closer and opened his arms. “The same to you, Baby. I had a great time with you tonight.”
She snuggled into the comfortable hollow and slipped her arms around his waist. His mouth lowered to hers for one last kiss. She eagerly accepted it, suppressing a groan of pleasure at the serious play of his tongue on hers.
Sam broke the kiss, and gave her a gentle peck on the nose. “You be careful going home, you hear me?”
“I will.” Carrie rid her voice of its quaver with a ladylike clearing of the throat. “I guess I’ll see you next weekend?”
“If not sooner. Maybe I could only take a couple of days off of work.” He gave her a careless shrug. “It’d save me some leave.”
“Yeah? I was thinking you don’t need to take any time off and save more. What is it you’re always saying? ‘That’s money in the bank.’”
His chest rumbled with deep laughter. “You drive a hard bargain, girl. Let’s say I don’t take any days off. What’s in it for me?”
Carrie moved out of his embrace to pull on her gloves. She grabbed the door knob and threw a backwards glance in his direction. “Me, if you play your cards right. Good night, Sam.”
She was already out the door and down the steps before he roused himself from his stupor. He hurried outside to stand next to her car. “Call me when you get home?” he called through the window.
“And drive safely, watch your speed. When you get home, if anything looks suspicious do not go into that house. Go to the neighbor so she can call her son.”
She nodded again. “I’ll talk to you in an hour…and, Sam?”
“Yeah?” he asked, looking like a lost puppy.
“I love it when you call me Baby.”
She could still see him smiling as she headed for the highway.
Carrie pushed open the front door and froze. The unmistakable scent of roses assaulted her senses. She stood outside the doorway, trying to ignore the frisson of fear that caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand up.
“Aw, hell.” She barely heard her own whispered words over the frantic pounding of her own heart. As her eyes adjusted to the dimness of the house, lit only by one tiny nightlight, she saw the huge bouquet of roses on the dining room table. Minus a few buds and several petals, it was otherwise intact.
Dave was here. Carrie scanned the room quickly, looking for anything broken or out of place, but Sam’s words of warning prompted her to back cautiously out the door. The breath she’d been holding released in a loud whoosh, accompanied by a shriek as she backed into a large, solid, body. Definitely not Dave. She jumped to the side and pivoted to catch a look at her intruder.
Rob LeDoux stood with his hands up in the air. “Whoa—it’s me!”
“Sweet Jesus!” Carrie’s hand flew to her chest as she glared up at the mountain of a man. “You scared the crap out of me.”
He gave her a sheepish grin. “Sorry, but I’ve been sitting at Mom’s, waiting for you to get home. She called me around nine—said she saw Dave disappear into the back door of the house, then leave after a few minutes.”
Carrie closed her eyes as relief flooded through her. “I was on my way to the police station.” She pointed to the vase filled with roses. “You’d think he could have found someone else to give those to. By the way, I know I locked all the windows and doors. How the hell did he get in?”
“You were supposed to stop at the station on the way in.” The officer pointed to the kitchen. “He cut the screen on the back door and jimmied the lock. I have a few beers with Christie’s landlord every week. I’ll talk to him about putting in dead bolts.”
Her eyes gravitated to the back door. “Christie’s going to be pissed.” She turned to Rob again. “Now do you believe it’s him behind those calls?”
Rob brushed his thumb and forefinger over his mustache. “I interrogated him a good while about that earlier. He says he didn’t have anything to do with them, and I lean toward believing him.”
She shook her head. “I still think it’s a ploy to get me to move back home. You have to admit the timing is too perfect. Besides, I can’t afford for it not to be Dave. Anything else is too terrifying.”
He leaned forward and pinned her with a stern look. “What you can’t afford is to insist Dave’s behind it when he isn’t. It’s bad enough that whoever it is knows exactly when you moved. That means he’s watching you and probably lives in or near Gardiner. We need to figure out a plan of action. Now think, is there any other place you could go?”
“Like where, Rob?” Her voice rose to a hysterical pitch. “I can’t stay here and put Christie and Max in danger. I won’t go to Mom’s and put her in danger. I sure don’t want to risk putting my own kids in danger. So what the hell am I supposed to do? Camp out in your jail like the town drunk on the Andy Griffith show?”
“Now there’s a thought. We could fix you up with your own cell, just like Otis.” Rob didn’t even bother trying to hide his grin.
“Seriously, Rob. Where could I go and not put someone I love at risk? I was even considering asking Dave if he’d stay at his mom’s, so I could move back in the house for a while, but that’s out of the question now.”
Rob rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “Were your plans to stay here with Chris for a while?”
“I’m supposed to be renting a house here in town by the middle of January—Mark Dronet’s place at the southeast end of town.”
He nodded. “I know it. Nice place.” He sucked in his breath and grimaced. “Just inside city limits, empty lots, grassy pastures on three sides, and no nosy neighbor.”
She blew out an exasperated breath. “I know. The very thing that attracted me most when I first saw it is a big negative now.”
Rob gave her shoulder a friendly pat. “We’ll think of something, don’t worry.” He got to the door and waved down the cruiser passing slowly in front of her house, then turned to her. “I’ll make sure he stays right out here. You call if you need anything, okay?”
She picked up the roses and met him at the door. “Take these with you please.”
His left brown arched. “You mean you don’t want them?”
Carrie snorted. “The only rose I ever got from Dave when we were together was one made out of a pair of red nylon panties. I sure as hell don’t want any now.”
“Are you joking?” Rob smothered a laugh.
“Afraid not. I got that, along with a four inch ceramic bear that had ‘I Love You Bear-ry Much’ painted on the belly. The panties must have been a size 0.” She handed the vase to the laughing Chief of Police. “I called it in to a radio station as the worst Valentine’s Day gift I ever got. It won the contest. I got a box of chocolates and a beer coozie from Gator 101.”
“Mona would have loaded my ass with buckshot if I’d done that. Can I give these to her?”
“Sure, maybe you’ll have better luck than Dave.” After he left, she locked the door behind him. As added protection, she wedged a dining room chair under the knob and then did the same to the kitchen door. Carrie placed fingertips to her throbbing temples, one thought running through her mind: A move to Kenton didn’t sound so terrible right now.
From his position behind the massive oak across the street, he watched the chief drive away from Carrie’s place. Excitement at the thought of her being in that house, alone all night long, made him hard and anxious to have her. His stomach soured when Rob flagged down the cruiser. Damn that guy, and damn these holidays. Christmas festivities were not conducive to his plans for her. Soon, he’d have her all to himself. No protection from Gardiner’s finest and no kids around to spoil his one-on-one time.
Ten minutes later, Carrie crawled into bed with the phone. She cringed when Sam answered on the first ring, his voice tight with worry.
“I thought you’d never call. I’ve been making up all kinds of scenarios in my head.” A quick explanation from her had him muttering mild profanities. “I’m tempted to go pick your ass up and lock you in my bedroom where I can keep an eye on you.”
Her nails clicked in an impatient rhythm on the handset. “You and what army?” Sam’s frustrated groan had her taking pity on him. “For what it’s worth, I believe more than ever that Dave’s behind this, even though the chief doesn’t.”
“And if he is, you really don’t think he’s dangerous?”
“Nope. Just a giant pain in my ass.” She frowned when Sam let loose with a string of expletives. “And here I thought you were a gentleman.”
“Sorry, babe, but I cuss when I’m feeling helpless, and right now I feel like a castrated bull in a pasture full of heifers.” She heard a loud beep from the handset. “Aw hell, somebody’s calling. It’s probably Mom checking up to see how our date went.”
“I’ll let you go then. I just wanted to make sure you made it home safely. G’night, Carrie.”
“Night, Sam.” She pressed the star to speak to the other caller. “Hello?” Dead silence. She imagined Dave gloating about how he could still control her, and it fueled her fury.
“You can stop now. I know Dave put you up to this, numb nuts. The only thing you’ll get for your trouble is time in prison.” She pressed the phone’s speaker button and placed the handset on the unit.
“Carrie…”
For a second she forgot she wasn’t showing fear. “What?”
“Sure you do.”
“I’m going to have time, but not in prison. Time alone with you. More than enough time to do one of two things. Make you mine, or make you dead.”
Any quick comeback she had planned died at her vocal chords. Carrie hit the speaker button and cradled the handset before walking to the door. She flipped the porch light on and off several times to signal the officer.
“But not until we have some fun first.”
She pulled the curtain aside to look for whoever was on duty. “Fun for you or for me?”
“Both of us, if you’re as smart as I think you are.”
The breathing grew labored—heavy—almost as if …
“I’m—going—to—have—you.”
She spun around, stare in horror at the phone base as his guttural groan filled the air. “Oh, God!” She winced at the sound of his sadistic laughter.
“Was that good for you?”
Footsteps on the wooden porch had her checking the window again. Carrie eased open the door for the officer standing there, and held her finger up to her lips, then pointed at the phone. “You’re disgusting! Why don’t you just admit Dave put you up to this?” More raucous laughter had her skin crawling.
“This is so much bigger than Dave; he’s a fool, and so are you if you think that officer you let inside can stop me if I decide to get at you tonight.”
Carrie’s breath released in a rush as the officer grabbed his radio with one hand and drew his weapon with the other.
He spun around and called over his shoulder. “Lock up behind me. I’m calling for back up.”
“Why’d you have to go and do that? It was just getting interesting.”
“Do what?” She tried to keep the quaver from her voice.
“We’ll save the rest for later. Sweet dreams, Carrie.”
Carrie fell, exhausted, into the bed an hour later. The last officer had just cleared out, leaving one parked out front and another circling the block with a searchlight. She clutched the phone tightly to her chest, fighting the urge to call Sam. A strong, independent woman should be able to take a night alone, without calling a man to talk her through it. She’d spoken to no one but cops for the last hour, not even a family member. Did she still believe the caller was someone Dave had enlisted? As certain as she’d been earlier, she had to admit her opinion faltered considerably after that last call.