He couldn’t stand the idea of an open case where Sheri was the victim. The problem of trying to figure out how to maintain her safety until they resolved this issue kept him awake through the wee hours of the morning.
At six o’clock he made a pot of coffee and sat at the kitchen table as the sun slowly slid upward above the tops of the trees.
He didn’t expect Sheri up for another hour or two. He hoped she’d stay here today, but he had a feeling she’d open her store and keep business as usual. Maybe that would be for the best, to keep her busy and her thoughts off Highway and the mad dash through the woods.
He knew that several of the officers from the night before intended to be back here around eight this morning to comb through the forest in hopes of finding something that might have been missed the night before.
It was possible they might be able to set up some sort of rotation between Jimmy and his partners and a couple of other officers to make sure that Sheri was never here alone again until this was all resolved.
He’d have to sell the idea to Chief Krause, but with Ralph Storm breathing down Krause’s neck, Jimmy had a feeling the last thing his boss would want would be another crime at the beginning of the height of tourist season.
It was just before seven when Sheri stumbled into the kitchen, her eyelids at half-mast and wearing a slightly cross expression that instantly identified her as not a morning person.
She barely glanced at him as she beelined to the coffeemaker. He remained silent, watching as she poured herself a cup of the brew and carried it to the table. Her slender legs were on display beneath the thin lavender bathrobe she wore and he tried not to notice how lovely she looked.
After she’d taken her first drink he decided it was safe to engage.
“Not a morning person, huh?”
She held up a finger and took another sip of her coffee, then leaned back in her chair and offered him a sleepy smile that stirred him deep inside.
“Actually, I love the mornings, after I’ve had my first couple sips of coffee,” she admitted. She took another drink and eyed him over the rim of the cup. “And to be honest, seeing you sitting here made it impossible for me to pretend that everything that happened last night was a dream.”
He gazed at her sympathetically. “Sorry to burst your bubble.”
“It’s okay. I suppose you want to ask me again who might hate me enough to hurt my dog and try to grab me in the woods.”
“It would be nice if you came up with a list of names,” he said.
“A list? I’m having trouble coming up with a single name.” She narrowed her gaze. “Your eyes are red. Did you stay up all night?”
“Guilty as charged. Depending on what happens today I’ll manage somehow to catch a few hours of sleep.”
“I can tell you what my plans are for today. Within the next hour I plan on calling and checking in on Highway and then I’m showering and getting dressed and heading into the store for business as usual.” She raised her chin slightly, as if expecting him to protest.
“I figured that would be your plan. I’ll drive you to the store and then when it’s time for you to leave I’ll pick you up and bring you back here.” He said the words as a statement of fact.
She set her cup down on the table, her gaze remaining thoughtfully on him. “Okay, I’ll let you be my personal chauffeur to and from work.” Her eyes darkened and a faint dusty pink filled her cheeks. “But no more slumber parties.”
“It was the kiss, wasn’t it?”
She nodded and looked toward the nearby window. “I won’t deny the fact that I liked your kiss, but that’s why we shouldn’t put ourselves in a position where it might happen again.” She gazed at him once again. “You aren’t the right man for me and I doubt that I’m what you’re looking for in a woman.”
“I’m not particularly looking,” he said. “But if you say no more slumber parties, then that’s the way it will be.”
That just meant he was going to have to get creative in how he intended to make certain that nobody nefarious crept up to her house in the middle of the night.
There was no way he was going to let her stay in this isolated cottage in the woods all alone, especially after dark, until whoever had attacked her was behind bars.
Chapter 10
By the time Frank, Steve and several other officers showed up to begin the search of the woods, Sheri had showered and dressed and was ready to head to the store.
Jimmy had suggested more than once that maybe it would be a good idea for her to just stay home today, but she needed work to keep her mind occupied so she wouldn’t think about the frantic run through the woods, her beloved dog or that crazy, wild unexpected kiss.
Besides, she sold ammunition for the shotgun at the store and she was going to pick up a couple of boxes to bring home so that she wouldn’t spend her time alone in the house unarmed.
She’d called the animal clinic where she was told that Highway was just starting to regain consciousness, but Dr. Cusack wanted to keep him a couple more days to administer IV antibiotics and fluids. The tech Sheri had spoken to also said they wanted to make sure that Highway would be comfortable walking with his new cast before sending him home.
“What I’d like you to do is spend some time this morning making a list of all the people you interact with at the store or everywhere else,” Jimmy said as he pulled into the Roadside Stop’s back parking lot next to Jennifer’s car. “I also want on that list any other hunters you might have had issues with in the past, vendors who are in and out, and past employees that might hold a grudge.”
“That’s going to be quite a long list,” she said.
“We have to start somewhere, Sheri,” he said.
“I see you’ve already started by contacting Jennifer to be here early?” She raised an eyebrow at him.
“I don’t want you spending a minute here alone. If you can’t staff the store so that there’s always somebody here with you, then call me and I’ll get here immediately.”
Her heart hitched a bit. “This is serious, isn’t it, Jimmy.”
“Deadly serious,” he responded, no hint of a spark in his dark eyes.
“I’m getting ammunition for my shotgun.” She narrowed her eyes and raised her chin, expecting him to rebuke the very idea, and surprised when he didn’t.
“Call me if anything unusual happens today,” he said as she opened the car door to exit. “And if for any reason you can’t get in touch with me, call Dispatch and they’ll have somebody out here as quickly as possible.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine here at the store.” She got out of the car and with a wave of her hand, she headed inside.
Jennifer greeted her, a worried frown on her pretty face. “Sheri, are you okay? Detective Carmani told me about what happened last night. How’s Highway doing? What are the cops doing to find the man?”
Sheri smiled and held up a hand. “Whoa, one thing at a time.” As she and Jennifer sat on the stools behind the counter, Sheri filled her in on everything that had happened, although she didn’t mention the mind-blowing, knee-buckling kiss she’d shared with the Italian lawman.
“And now I’m tasked with making a list of anyone and everyone in my life with the hopes that somebody on that list is the person who is after me,” she finished.
“Sheri, I can’t imagine a person in the world who would ever want to hurt you. You’re the sweetest, most generous woman in the entire town of Wolf Creek,” Jennifer gushed with obvious hero worship.
“Jennifer, for goodness’ sakes, don’t put me up on any pedestal. I’m sure there are people I’ve angered in one way or another, I just have to figure out who they might be.” Sheri sighed, the task ahead of her nearly overwhelming. “Why don’t you straighten some shelves until we get some customers?”
&n
bsp; As Jennifer got up, Sheri pulled out a legal pad that she kept beneath the counter for doodling or making notes to herself about inventory or staff hours.
She turned it to a blank piece of paper and stared at it, tapping the end of a pen on the counter. How did anyone really know the impact they had on others as they went about their daily life?
Had she unintentionally ignored somebody? Had she hurt somebody’s feelings by a throwaway comment? She came into contact with a lot of people during a busy workday, but she just couldn’t imagine evoking the kind of rage that had chased her through the woods.
She finally wrote the first name—Travis Brooks, although she didn’t believe the tavern owner was responsible, despite the fact that she’d held him at gunpoint. She’d known Travis for years and he’d never shown any indication that he had a bad bone in his body.
Sure, she’d heard stories about him occasionally getting stupid drunk with customers and dancing on the bar or wandering the streets until one of the cops picked him up and took him home. But he wasn’t a bad guy and she certainly didn’t believe he was a monster.
It was just after ten and she’d managed to write down three names. She was in the break room in the back when she heard the familiar clip-clop of a buggy approaching. A glance out the back door showed Abraham Zooker parking his horse and buggy in the area specifically designated for Amish visitors and their horse-drawn buggies.
It was a dirt area to the side of the asphalt parking and had a hitching post for the horses to be tied to while left unattended. There were hitching posts in front of many of the businesses on Main Street to accommodate the old-fashioned way of travel.
She watched as he wrangled a wooden nightstand out of the back of the buggy, and greeted him with a warm smile while he carried it toward the back door.
“I see you’ve brought me another piece of beautiful furniture,” she said.
The older man returned her smile. “And I would hope that it will be welcomed here.”
Sheri stepped aside to allow him entry through the doorway. “Of course it’s welcome. You know I love selling your pieces, Abraham, and the tourists and locals love to buy them.” She followed him inside. “You can go ahead and put it with the rest of the furniture inside the store.”
He carried the piece easily, as if it weighed little more than a sack of onions, and set it next to a coffee table. He straightened and tugged on his long salt-and-pepper beard.
“Anything new in the case of your aunt?” he asked.
Sheri’s heart constricted. “No, nothing, although the case is still open and active.”
“Your family has suffered so much in the last couple of months.” He reached out and took one of her hands in his. His hand was dry and calloused and smothered her smaller one. “I continue to pray for you all every night.”
“Thank you, Abraham. We can use all the prayers we can get. And things are well with you?”
He dropped her hand. “Things always go well with me,” he replied. “A simple man finds simple pleasures.” He started toward the back room to leave. “I will check in with you next week to see if anything has sold.”
Sheri told him goodbye, watched as he returned to his buggy and then pulled out of the back parking lot to the sound of horse hooves and creaking leather.
She went to the counter where against her own personal judgment she wrote Abraham’s name on her list. Following his name she added Abraham’s brother, Isaaic Zooker. Isaaic provided the variety of cheeses that was particularly popular with the tourists. The two brothers were in and out of the store often, delivering wares or picking up money their sales had earned them.
The list began to grow longer as she thought of all the people who provided services and goods that kept the Roadside Stop successful.
With each name she wrote, a well of denial made the strokes of her pen. She couldn’t imagine any of these people being the man in the woods.
It pained her to write down not only her mother’s name, but also Louis Harper, the mystery man who had supposedly been responsible for Ramona’s sobriety and well-being over the past four years.
Even though she couldn’t imagine Ramona wanting to harm Liz or hurt Sheri, she reminded herself that she knew very little about the woman who was her birth mother.
The morning passed with customers coming in and Jennifer and Sheri working side by side to keep things running smoothly. Between customers Sheri returned to her seat behind the cash register and worked on the growing list of names she felt would be no help at all to the officials investigating the events of the night before.
At noon Jason King came in—his youthful face held the same stress lines it had the last time she’d seen him. He leaned against the counter, as if too tired to stand up straight.
“Things no better at home?” Sheri asked sympathetically, knowing there was no way she was writing down the name of a seventeen-year-old Amish boy on her list.
“A little better. The young ones are with Elizabeth Yoder this afternoon for a couple of hours. People are doing their best to help.” He offered her a tired smile. “I just decided to walk over and buy a bottle of orange juice and relax for a bit. Da would skin me alive for not being out in the field or taking care of my siblings, but it seems like all I do is take care of the young ones and work the field. I need to just be at rest sometimes.”
Sheri motioned him to the three tables and chairs next to a long industrial cooler where she sold cold drinks, prepared sandwiches and a variety of food that tourists occasionally sat and ate before heading back on the road.
“Go sit. The juice is on me.”
“I can’t let you do that,” he protested as he moved toward one of the tables.
“You can and you will,” Sheri said firmly. As he slumped into a chair she set a cold bottle of juice in front of him.
“How’s your father?”
Jason screwed off the lid and took a long drink before replying. “I think he’s starting to come around a little. I mean, I miss my ma, too. But six months is a long time to carry grief.”
Sheri thought of her aunt. “Sometimes you carry grief for a lifetime, but you have to put it into a place where it no longer brings you to your knees. You have to find the strength to keep on living.”
Jason nodded. “I’m hoping my da gets to that place soon.”
“So, tell me how everyone else is doing,” Sheri asked.
For the next thirty minutes Jason talked about life at the settlement, about social gatherings and his friends and a simple existence that spoke of humility and faith.
When he finally left the store he appeared more relaxed and prepared to go back to the responsibilities that the death of his mother had placed on his young slender shoulders.
Sheri returned to her seat behind the register and once again pulled out her list of names. While she’d made it clear to many of the hunters in the area that her property was off-limits, Travis was the only person she’d ever pointed her shotgun at.
She was at a loss as to any other names to add and she couldn’t imagine anyone on the list who would be capable of hurting Highway or her. She couldn’t begin to guess what she might have done to any of the people on the list that would inspire the kind of demonic rage that had tried to get her, that had hurt Highway.
At two Abe arrived to take over his shift that would last until closing. Abe, who had loved her aunt Liz’s cakes and pies. Abe, who had confessed to asking Aunt Liz out on a date only to be rejected by her.
Abe had always told Sheri that among the three sisters he thought she was most like her aunt. Abe had lost his wife several years ago. Was it possible he’d had something to do with Liz’s disappearance? Was it possible because Sheri was so much like her aunt he now had his sights on her?
As he worked in the back room unloading a shipment of Wolf Creek
shot glasses and mugs that had arrived, Sheri wrote his name down and then threw her pen aside.
She hated this. She hated that she had to look at friends and coworkers with a skeptical gaze, that this whole process would make her second-guess her relationships with everyone in her daily life.
It was nearly three when Officer Richard Crossly walked in. He was also a frequent customer. A tall, muscular man with nearly white hair, he talked about retiring at least once a week.
“How you doing, Sheri?” he asked as he grabbed one of the turkey club sandwiches from the cooler. “I heard you had some excitement at your place last night.”
“Enough to keep my heart beating a little too fast even this morning,” she told him.
He added a can of pop to the sandwich on the counter. “Have you heard from anyone if they’ve found anything in the woods today? I heard they were doing a search, but I haven’t talked to anyone...been out on the highway writing speeding tickets all day.”
“I haven’t heard from anyone, either.” She rang him up and took his cash. “But I hope they find something. I’m going to be armed and dangerous from now on at the cottage and if anyone tries to hurt me or my dog again they’ll have hell to pay from me personally.”
“Ah, nothing like a gun-toting gal to get my heart racing,” Richard said with a laugh. “Hopefully, somebody will figure it all out before we have to arrest you for manslaughter.”
As he ambled out of the door, Sheri thought for several long moments and then added his name to her list. It felt strange to write down the name of a member of law enforcement, but Jimmy had told her to write down the names of regular customers and Richard was just that.
Jimmy called her at five. “I’m on my way to pick you up,” he said.
“Did you sleep?” she asked, remembering the raw redness of his eyes that morning.
“Yeah, I got a couple hours of shut-eye,” he replied.
“Did they find anything in the woods?”
His hesitation was her answer. “No,” he finally said.
Lone Wolf Standing Page 12