by Gem Sivad
“Holly, come over here and test this for us,” Garret yelled.
I hustled that way, ready to change my position in the sun, as well as maybe get chat time with Roger.
Marty blocked my access to the swing which had turned out to be far superior to the original aging version. With my permission, they’d constructed a canopy over it with open walls on each end.
“Hell no, you’re not risking yourself on a job that has no safety and security clearance. Church, get over here.”
I devolved into a fit of giggles as the two giants plopped down none too gently, bounced up and down testing the chain strength, ease of use, and comfort potential.
“Needs a set of cushions,” Church announced as he shoved off, stretching his big frame, getting comfortable, before slinging his arm around Marty’s shoulders to slap him in the head. “Lift your feet, dummy. Have you forgotten how to swing?”
“You’ve served your purpose, here. Move your ass back to your grill and let Holly sit down,” Marty growled.
“I’ve got a surprise coming for you,” Church said and grinned, lumbering up from the swing. He didn’t elaborate on what the surprise was.
I took his seat next to Marty and he wasted no time throwing his arm around me. Then he kissed me on the top of my head. “Feeling okay?” he asked, nudging the swing into a rocking motion.
How did I feel? Truthfully, I wanted to crawl into his lap and escape into sleep. I don’t do drama well.
“Good job you two,” Marty said to Garret and Roger. Garret gave him a thumb’s up, Roger winked at me, and they ambled off together, toward the food.
I’m not good at describing things, but to my mind it seemed like I’d just had a huge upgrade without losing the flavor of what once was. I felt certain that Grandma would have liked Jack’s fountain which turned into a cascading waterfall.
“I don’t know how I feel,” I answered him. “Confused? Unnerved? Vulnerable?”
“Yep. That fucker fouled the yard while we were asleep. And I didn’t hear a thing. That will not happen again.”
Oh yeah, Marty was more than mad. The yard itself was still a hub of activity. Marty’s crew had used the existing trees to install motion sensor lights. The back fence had been strengthened, Jack’s low lights were enhanced by staggered lantern lights on poles.
“When Eazy gets here, there won’t be any house security issues, either,” he announced.
“How many rent checks is this costing me?” I wasn’t about to protest the offer of built in home protection. But I didn’t want him to lose sight of the fact I was boss of what happened to my house. And I would pay for any upgrades. Maybe over a long period.
“Is E.Z. part of your crew?”
“Nah, he’s a farmer.”
“What’s E.Z. stand for and why’s he coming?”
“Ezekiel. Eazy’s a hell of a lot easier to remember. He’s a licensed electrician. So, he’s going to supervise the wiring of your new home security system.”
“I thought you said he’s a farmer. And stop pushing this stuff at me. I can’t afford…”
His mouth flattened into a grim line and he silently dared me to continue. Okay, maybe there’s a low interest plan.
I forgot all about the interior home upgrades taking place after Eazy arrived, wearing work boots, tool belt, flannel shirt and jeans. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anyone dress the part of country, better.
“Howdy, Church,” he drew the words, slowly, looking around as if to size the place up before he continued into the yard. When he spoke, I could hear him, though he didn’t seem to be projecting to anyone but Church.
Church escorted Eazy to the swing, grinning ear to ear as he talked. “Want you to meet Marty’s woman. I’m hoping Gertie will—” Eazy interrupted Church with what sounded like, a reminder.
“Ain’t no influencing her, you know. Gertie decides what’s what. I’m just here to wire the place.”
Gertie, Church’s promised surprise, was a hundred pound (at least) white coated, Great Pyrenees guardian dog.
“She’s beautiful,” I breathed, leaning out of the swing for a closer view. Before the end of Eazy’s visit, he’d installed the security system and apparently, I would be hosting a guardian dog for an unspecified length of time.
I’d never owned a dog, or had a pet. When I expressed my concern to Gertie’s owner, he shook his head.
“She’s here on a job. She knows that. Feed her the mix I’m leaving, give her a scratch on the head for praise when you think of it. She’s taken to you. You’ll get along fine.”
“Is she supposed to sleep in the house with me?” What the fuck did I know about hosting a canine?
“No, ma’am. If you want to let her in during the day, especially if it turns hot, that’s fine. But at night, she’ll be outback on guard duty. Any problem comes visiting here again, Gertie will bite its head off.”
I better understood the rushed security upgrades later in the afternoon, when Marty explained he and the crew were only here for a short break, and would be flying back to the west coast fires early the next morning.
I wanted to cry, but I sucked it up. He was a firefighter. Among other things, that’s what he did. I thought about their discreet, advertising tagline. If it’s dangerous, let us do it for you…
Whether I learned to live with Smoke, Incorporated’s hazardous assignments or not, Marty wouldn’t be abandoning his company or line of work to hold my hand.
Marty
Dammit, I did not want to leave Holly so soon. Or at all. My feelings for her seemed to be growing faster than I could get a handle on them. Shit. I was so caught up in worrying about everything at home, it was torture blocking it all out once we hit the fire zone.
Before I’d taken off, we’d discussed the incident and I’d asked her if she’d had anything else happen recently.
“You know,” she’d admitted. “I think it’s been going on a while. Maybe since I met you.”
She’d looked at me, not with suspicion, but dawning awareness. “I left my purse, holding my phone and money in the taxi the night of the dance. That’s why I borrowed cab fare from you. They returned the purse and phone to me the next day. The money was still there, and everything looked fine.”
“Who dropped it off?”
“I don’t know. It was just waiting there on my porch when I went out to get my paper that morning.”
“But then, I got some weird calls asking to speak to Marilyn. After the second or third wrong number, I got a new number. I thought that had taken care of the problem.”
“Don’t forget the van that almost clipped you,” I reminded her. “And the shelving that collapsed the morning you were supposed to be in that area of Humble Homes.”
“And I quit walking to the store in the evening when I got a creepy feeling someone was following me.”
Christ, by the time I got done lining up all the probably incidents that we’d ignored, it appeared Holly might have acquired a stalker the night of the dance.
I’d asked for specifics, but she had no idea who. Nor could she describe the van that had almost run over her, and she had only a vague notion of how her phone had been returned.
“I think it was a courier service. They left it on my front porch, next to the door, in a gift bag. At the time I had you and the dance on my mind, and I didn’t think about the method of returning the phone. Now it’s seems kind of hinky.”
I called Mel’s Cab Company and inquired about their delivery system for lost items.
“What the hell?” Mel himself answered. “You expect us to underwrite the cost of returning packages to people too stupid to hang onto their valuables? Fuck that.”
I’d assured him that as I was also a business man, I understood completely. Then, as a peace offering, and after guaranteeing we’d refer all customers to their cab line when we had out of towners visiting, I managed to coax the owner into giving me gold.
“I had night duty, answering the phone
s that date,” he confessed. “Crappy roads, icy conditions and not much going on. So yeah, I remember. I watched you and Marilyn on television raising money in that dance-a-thon. That’s why I remember her call.”
“Who organized her phone delivery the next day?”
“Nobody from here. According to our records, we turned it over to her brother who came in to pick it up.”
I wasted no time calling Jack and gave him pertinent dates. “Hack still owes that favor. Holly changed her number a while ago. See if he can trace the old number and see who called her on those dates after the dance-a-thon. Then have him track it back to the caller’s address.” I planned to visit the sonofabitch and put the fear of me in him.
But, I couldn’t linger in Pittsburgh to help the investigation along. The west coast situation had worsened. With no rain in the forecast and an already dry spring, local areas were trying to control outbreaks as they occurred, and we’d been offered a healthy contract to return.
Besides the money, Harley-Jane’s brother was a member of a west coast Hotshot crew. Cowboy was all about giving them back-up too, if they needed it. We were leaving, and we’d be gone a spell. I hated it. But, there was no point in pretending it wasn’t so. If Holly and I were going to have any kind of a life together, she’d have to get use to the risk factor in my business.
It made it damned hard for me to convince her to stay home from her waitress job. When I said it was too risky, she said, “Right, carrying a tray from the bar to the table is scary shit. But you, chopping wood in a burning forest, is a piece of cake.”
I ignored her logic and explained my concern. “You have to go out, and once you’re there, you have to come home. Both points of vulnerability.”
“Jack will be with me, you know it as well as I do. I couldn’t shake him off if I tried.”
I didn’t so much give in as much as get run over. There was no way in hell she would call off work. I didn’t like it. But I admitted I might be overacting a bit. Still, I called Hack and ask him to hurry up and locate the guy. I didn’t like knowing there was a predator stalking Holly and I wasn’t home to protect her.
Chapter Eighteen
Holly
After Marty left, I felt a giant hollow emptiness inside. Elaine had work piled up, she wasn’t interested in my help, and so I played with Gertie in my recently refurbished backyard. I tried to coax her into the swing with me, but she refused the offer, plopping down in the grass to watch me instead.
With her presence, as well as the motion sensors that flooded the yard with light at night, I felt safe. For the most part, Gertie trotted inside with me during the day when I retreated from the weather.
At night, she stretched out on the elevated back porch, hidden in the shadows, but alert to any intruders.
The first night, nothing much happened, not even a flicker of the new lights.
The second night, though, Gertie roared from her back-porch perch, bounding into the yard when the lights streamed on. I didn’t see anything from the view of my upstairs’ window. Jack appeared in the backyard, rubbing sleep from his eyes, and I wondered if he’d been asleep in his SUV.
I fixed him a late-night slice of pie, had one as well, invited him to sleep on the couch, and went back to bed. I still felt safe.
Eazy stopped by once that week to check on Gertie. I gave them privacy and was wounded when I saw the big dog climb into the swing and lean on him.
Did it mean she didn’t trust me? Like me? When he stood, ruffled her coat, and gave her a hug, I sidled out to the backyard for a moment.
“Is she upset? Did I do something wrong?”
“You think Gertie’s got her tail in a twist? Might be personal.” Eazy frowned at his dog, concern written on his face. “You worried, muffin? I’m working on it.”
“She won’t sit in the swing with me like she did you,” I explained quickly, pretty sure we weren’t talking on the same subject. “I thought she and I were friends.”
“Nope. She’s on guard duty with you. With me, we’re just discussing family business.”
“I’m sorry you’re having problems,” I offered.
“Custody battle,” he told me, gruffly. “That’s why I stashed her here with you. Not that Gertie would have stayed if she’d taken a dislike to being here.”
When I went back into the kitchen, Elaine eyed me. “Saw you talking to Eazy out there,” she said, her nosy-gene in an uproar. “He’s an odd one. What did he say?”
“His wife wants her dog back. Gertie wants to stay with him. She was hiding out here.”
“Like I said, he’s an odd one.”
That was the most excitement unfolding in my world, and given the recent vandalism I should have been grateful. However, I had cabin-fever out the wazoo. When Marty had tried to talk me into calling off work during the Championship Playoffs that weekend, I snarled at him. No way.
Friday night, Balls & Bones was rocking. Nobody wanted to go home, the customers replayed, reenacted, and rejoiced together over beer. I loved it. I’d been so cooped up at home, I wanted to dance on the bar all night long.
As predicted, despite my protests, I had a bodyguard. Jack had planted his ass on a stool and waited for me to get off work. It was clearly no pain for him. His team won, and he was having fun arguing with half the customers and celebrating with the rest.
On a foray into the kitchen, somebody handed me a trash bag and pointed me at the back door where more bags were piled. I didn’t mind, everyone had dumpster duty eventually, and I was on deck this time.
I hauled six bags out, two at a time, and stacked them by the huge green container. Once I had them all lined up, I tossed two up and in, bent over to pick up the next bag, and whammy, someone grabbed me from behind and wrapped a skinny, shirt-covered arm around my throat.
When I’d bent over to lift the bag, apparently, he didn’t allow for me being taller than him. Before he could step backward, I hunched in on myself as much as possible and powered up, breaking his strangle hold and hauling him up with me.
He twisted my right arm behind my back and I felt something pop as he went back to choking me with his other arm. But again, he didn’t allow for the angle because of our height differential. I couldn’t get loose, so I slammed my head backward and hit him.
I almost blacked out when my skull crashed against solid bone. He grunted and loosened his grip enough for me to draw breath and shove backward again. I tried to scream. My throat wouldn’t work.
Jack finally remembered he was babysitting. Thank God.
I knew this because I heard him let out a yell and in two seconds I sat on the ground watching Jack kick the guy’s ass.
Ted came to the back door, saw me bloody and propped against the dumpster. He grabbed his cell and dialed 911 before he rushed down to me.
“Stalker,” I croaked, nodding weakly at the guy, now laying prone on the ground, his cheek smashed against the dirty alley way.
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph, girl. I look away for ten minutes and you’re in trouble.” So much for my bodyguard’s tender loving care. I didn’t go to Garret’s clinic. Ted had called the police, and I went to a real hospital, this time in an ambulance.
“Company insurance?” And saying that hurt like hell. But damn, I sure hoped Elaine had filed those papers.
“What the hell? Would you stop worrying about that shit. You’re covered. If you weren’t, I’d pay it out of my own pocket. I should have been watching you.” Jack stayed with me the whole time, helped clear the alley after the attack, and helped the medics load the gurney with me on it.
“I’ll take care of this and be at the hospital when you arrive,” Jack promised.
I could hear him sharing information and names with the two new officers so that they could coordinate their evidence with the two cops who’d investigated my backyard vandalism.
I still had no idea why he’d targeted me. It wasn’t for money. He’d seemed a lot more interested in choking me than getting my tip
s, which were still safe in my apron. I was glad to have the money, but that left the question of why he’d been trying to kill me. He’d failed, but not for want of trying.
“Baby,” I told the EMT guys. “Pregnant.”
“Already know,” one of them answered. “You got a friend called the dispatcher who called us.”
I wanted to sleep during the ride, but they both kept talking to me which I found irritating. I wanted to tell them to be quiet, but my throat hurt too much.
After they wheeled me into the emergency room, they passed me into the next set of waiting hands, Garret, wearing his stethoscope. Elaine stood next to him.
“Baby okay?” I made a feeble attempt to touch my belly, but my arm wouldn’t work.
“We’ve got you, Holly,” Garret said. “Dr. Spencer’s on her way. But I’m not going to wait to fix your shoulder so…” He helped me into a sitting position with my legs over the side of the bed.
I hadn’t been able to move my fingers for a while. Garret examined my arm, murmured, “This will hurt for a minute…”
Before I could brace myself he simultaneously pressed, pulled, and twisted, blasting excruciating pain from my shoulder, down my arm, and into my fingers.
“I’m going to puke,” I warned as a wave of nausea hit me.
“Have the lab check for blood,” I heard him tell the nurse.
I tried to give the vomit a look when I quit barfing, but the nurse whisked it away. When she came back, Garret had moved onto other issues.
“We need to look at your head now. The medic said he couldn’t find an open wound but the back of your head is covered in blood.”
It turned out the blood wasn’t from the big lump on my head. It belonged to the guy who’d jumped me.
“I won,” I muttered, my voice barely a whisper.
“No, you got beat up and nearly killed,” Elaine snapped. So much for support from the peanut gallery.
“She’s family,” Garret intervened when one of the nurses suggested Elaine wait outside.