by Geri Foster
He watched as the two walked down the street. That morning he’d overheard two women in Fred’s Donut House talking about the girl at the bank and a man named Jeff. The woman had been nice and the guys in the meeting spoke well of her but, if necessary, he would take her to make Crawley suffer. He knew first hand nothing hurt more than knowing someone you loved was in pain.
He’d missed his chance tonight, but he planned to stick around this crappy little town until he did what he planned. In the meantime, he took his cell out of his pocket and called a secret phone belonging to the Commander.
“Hello?”
“I think I found him. He’s in a little town in Texas.”
“He’s probably changed a lot after all these years. He’s not the bad-ass he used to be.”
“I wouldn’t count on that. He looks pretty formidable to me.”
“The man’s in his forties and has been out of the service for a decade. He probably can’t throw a punch.”
“I’m not taking that chance. I don’t have to be up close and personal to kill him.”
“I think you should,” the Commander said quickly. “You want him to know where this is all coming from, don’t you? If you’re avenging Henry’s death—”
“Hector,” he gritted out. “My brother’s name is Hector.”
“I’m sorry,” the Commander sounded sincere. “I don’t mean to be insensitive. Of course, his name was Hector, I remember him well.”
He wouldn’t count on that. He didn’t really like Eli Munson. He certainly didn’t look like a high-ranking member of the military who’d retired. Instead, he looked like a man who’d allowed himself to go to pot. He drank like a fish and, from the girth of his pants, he surmised he ate like a hog. Not the smooth talking, take-charge kind of man Hector’s letters talked about.
He had only been twelve when his brother died in Afghanistan, but that was plenty old enough to watch his entire family fall apart. His father left the state of Illinois after one too many DWIs. His mother turned to what she knew best, the streets, dragging his older sister with her. He couldn’t help but believe if Hector would’ve come home from the war, none of those things would’ve happened.
Maybe he’d have even continued school, stayed away from the gang, not touched drugs, and never killed the police officer who’d pulled him over. But he’d never know. The man he idolized, the glue to his family, had been killed in a country he couldn’t even spell.
Having to get out of the state, he’d decided it was time to avenge his brother’s death, once and for all.
“I’ll do what I can. No promises. If I can make him suffer, I will. Should the opportunity not come my way, I’m not leaving here until Jeff Crawley is dead.”
“Yes, of course. It’s what we both want. And I’ll help you anyway I can. Do you still have the forty caliber Glock? That gun can’t be traced to anyone.”
He meant to say it couldn’t come back on him. He shook his head. He didn’t need a gun, he had half an arsenal hidden in the small apartment he’d rented under Alec Jones with his fake ID. While the cops looked for Alec Opara, Alec Jones had a vendetta to settle.
“I have to go now. I’ll contact you in a day or two and give you an update.”
“Okay, I’m here if you need me.”
Chapter 3
Nancy fell in beside Jeff, and they walked the two blocks to her house. She didn’t need him to walk her home, per se, but she couldn’t deny that she felt safer with him around…and warmer. She had no idea what Mr. Jones had had in mind, but she felt he’d intended to do her harm and the idea frightened her. She’d been tempted to call out to one of the other men to see if they’d see her home but, thankfully, Jeff had shown up and she’d instantly felt stronger, able to deal with the situation. They left in such a hurry, she hadn’t bothered to clean up, only unplugged the coffee pot before joining him at the door. That could wait until she arrived at work tomorrow.
As they stepped on her porch, she decided to hell with it and invited him in for a drink. She was never this bold, but her nerves were rattled and the extra adrenaline was giving her courage. She only had Diet Coke and iced tea, but it wasn’t really the drink that mattered. It was the company. At least, for her, it was. Not surprisingly, he declined. The way her house looked she was almost glad he said no. Nothing had changed inside there since her parents had bought the house in the fifties.
Still, not wanting him to leave so soon, she eased down on the wooden slate porch swing and set her purse beside her. She left plenty of room for him to join her, but instead, he scanned the neighborhood like a bloodhound on a scent. Definitely just trying to make sure she was safe then. There really wasn’t anything else there.
Not ready to give up on her only chance at getting to know him better though, she encouraged, “Won’t you sit down?”
He did so reluctantly, and on the opposite side of the porch to boot, but with the size of the space there wasn’t a lot of room between them anyway. Way to give a girl confidence. He’d deliberately avoided taking the seat next to her. A ping of regret, and embarrassment, tapped against her heart.
“You have a good lock on your doors?”
“Yes, yes I do. I’m very careful. I’ve lived alone a long time. My cousin made sure the house was secure.”
“Where do your folks live?”
“They’ve both passed. Just two months apart from each other.” She waved at the house. “We lived here. After I graduated from high school, Daddy came down sick. Then, a few months later, Mama took ill and never recovered.”
“So, you cared for them?”
“Yes, the best I could. I’m the only child they had, and I came along late in life.”
“Did they die here?”
She should have been put off at his brusque questioning of so sensitive a topic, but she wasn’t. It was just Jeff’s way. He meant no harm by it. “Oh, no, they’d both been moved to hospice. But, I stayed there with them until the end.”
He kind of chuckled. “Of course, you did.”
Confused at what that meant, she lowered her head, trying to see his face in the darkness. “Why wouldn’t I? They were my parents. The only people I had in the world.” Her voice cracked. “I miss them still.”
Suddenly, he shot to his feet and turned away. “I’m sorry about that. I’m rude and crass. Not fit for company.”
“Yes, you are.” She stood and moved closer to him. “But you don’t mean to be. Why are you so hard on yourself?”
“I’m not,” he denied, glancing away.
“You certainly are, and you shouldn’t be. Russ told me you spent time in the Middle East. Maybe you could benefit from the meetings at the bank. Dr. Molinsky is very good.”
“I don’t need to spill my guts. I just want to be left alone.”
“I know how that feels and, given an alternative, I’d jump at the chance to feel a different way.”
He jammed his palms into his back pockets. “What do you mean by that? How do I feel?”
“Well, don’t you get lonely? Wish there was someone around to share your day with? Maybe a person you could confide in?”
He shook his head so strongly, she saw it in the darkness. “No, I don’t want that. Never. If anyone saw the inside of me, they’d run.”
“Why? And where would they go?” She crossed her arms. “I’m pretty ugly on the outside, so I try to be better on the inside. All it takes is caring about people.”
He stepped back, his green eyes shining in the darkness. “You’re not ugly.”
She tried to laugh but couldn’t. “Please, don’t bother trying to make me feel better. I own a mirror. I know I’m the chubby girl, the plain Jane, the lonely-hearts old maid. I’ve accepted that’s my life. But I still like people and want to do good by them.”
“You’re the crazy one now.” His voice dropped so low, she barely heard him. “You’re beautiful inside and out. And what you call chubby, I call curvy.”
Heat burned her cheek
s. No man had ever said anything close to something like that to her before, and it left her speechless. And to think, those words came from the most handsome man in town. His grey streaked hair only enhanced his dark, tanned skin, while his soulful green eyes and high cheekbones gave him the classic chiseled look that made movie stars so popular on the big screen.
She realized her knees were weak and, unless he was deaf, he could probably hear her pounding heart. Licking her lips, she stepped back, hoping to regroup. But that didn’t happen.
He held out his hand and she nearly fainted. What on earth would happen next?
“Give me the key. I want to make sure it’s safe.”
She came out of her stupor but didn’t know exactly what to do. Her purse. Where had she left the darn thing? Spotting it on the swing, she hurried to snatch it up. “Here,” she said, placing the keyring in his outstretched palm. “Although I don’t think it’s necessary.”
“Can’t be too careful,” he muttered, again.
She fell in behind him and placed her palm on his back, only to yank it away quickly, blushing at the interaction. She wasn’t sure what was coming over her, acting so familiar. Once inside, she flipped the switch on and light illuminated the drab furnishings. Taking in her sad home, she swore tomorrow she’d get Kendall and go shopping.
* * *
As Jeff stepped out of Nancy’s house and closed the door, he listened for the lock to click in place before he walked across the porch to the three steps leading to the sidewalk. The skin on the back of his neck prickled, and he paused for a moment. Someone was watching him. He felt it in his bones and wished he’d brought his weapon.
He didn’t know what was going on but, starting tonight, he wouldn’t be caught unarmed again. Measuring his steps, he moved cautiously, trying to fight off the sense someone had a loaded gun pointed right at him.
A car suddenly stopped in front of him and his nephew, Austin, stepped out of the vehicle, smiling. “Well, will you look at this. ‘Leave me alone’ Jeff is walking out of Nancy Wigan’s house.”
He said nothing as he dashed toward the car, yanked the door open and slid inside. “Get in the vehicle, Austin.”
Maybe it was the sound of his voice or his quick movements, but his intent penetrated Austin’s brain and he did as instructed, jumping in and gunning the engine.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t give me that BS. I know when something isn’t right.”
“I have a strange feeling, that’s all.”
“Strange as in how?”
“Strange enough I felt I needed cover.”
Pulling up beside his pickup, Austin put the car in Park and turned to him. Concern bracketed his eyes, deepening the fine lines. “You in some kind of trouble? I can put the full force of the FBI behind you, if you need it.”
“No, it’s probably nothing more than my imagination, not anything else. I’m just getting a little squirrelly.”
As he gripped the door handle, Austin clasped his shoulder. “Listen, don’t shut me out. If there’s something going on, I need to know about it.”
“Nothing I can figure out yet. I’m working on it.”
He slid out of the car and into his vehicle. Starting the engine, he glanced around. If a bullet was headed his way, there wouldn’t be anything he could do to stop it. Nancy’s safety filled his mind. Could there be someone out there wanting to hurt her? What could she have done to warrant anyone’s anger?
He pulled away from the curb, putting some distance between himself and the bank. After driving by and checking on his brother’s house, he headed home. When he came to a sharp curve in the road, he suddenly twisted the wheel and pulled into a country lane not visible to passersby.
Going on instinct, he instantly cut the lights and waited. Not a minutes later, a car passed. He turned off the truck and leaned against the headrest. He refused to lead someone to his home. Sure his vehicle was well hidden, he remained quiet and motionless.
It didn’t take long for the same car to pass going the opposite direction. Not so paranoid after all. Once in the clear, he started his pickup, pulled out and headed home. Turning into his drive, he opened the garage and slipped inside, closing it behind him.
Entering his home, he immediately reached in his pocket and took out the key to his gun cabinet. Ready for anything, he made sure to load every weapon, ready for use, then, strategically placed clips around his house for future use, should he need them.
For quick access, one gun went in the kitchen drawer, one next to his bed, and one in the end table next to his favorite chair. Four more guns sat lined up on the counter, but tomorrow they’d be placed outside: in the barn, the tack room, his old pickup and the bales of hay.
Like he said, it might be nothing, but he’d long given up on ignoring his gut feelings. They’d saved his ass too many times. Maybe they would once more.
* * *
Eli Munson clutched the unlisted phone to his chest, hoping to hear any minute that Jeff Crawley had been shot by Alec Opara. After ten long, hard years of humiliation, he’d finally found a patsy. Someone willing to do what he couldn’t.
Not and get away with it.
The Navy would be up his ass before Crawley’s body hit the ground. That’s why he made sure to be seen out and about. To that end, he’d just returned from dinner with the few friends he had left. Even now, he stepped outside and made sure his neighbors saw him at home.
He had been lucky enough to keep most of what happed in Afghanistan out of the paper and away from his friends and family. The military didn’t like to showcase their mistakes, and he’d been one of them. For him, lying and playing the victim to everyone else had been easy.
The phone vibrated. “Hello?” he answered instantly. “Is he dead?”
“I can’t find him.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, he’s not an easy man to track down in the first place. I got word he lived in Decatur, so I went there only to learn he’d moved. It took me three days to learn he might be here in Rainwater, but no one told me where. It was only by accident that I bumped into him tonight. Someone mentioned a veterans’ meeting and I decided one of them might know Crawley.” Alec paused, his voice full of frustration. “It was just chance that he walked in at all. He’s not the rundown man you said he was. Not by a long shot.”
Through gritted teeth, he said. “Didn’t you follow him? If the town is so small, how did you lose him that quickly?”
“I tried to but he disappeared. He just disappeared.”
“So, he gave you the slip?”
“I’ll find him tomorrow.”
The annoyance in Alec’s voice cautioned him to take it easy if he wanted him doing his dirty work. “It’s fine. It’s going to be done. You’re there now and so is he. Just think how good it feels to know the two of you are in the same place.”
“Yeah, that’s a plus. I’ll contact you with more information when I can.”
“Okay, I’m here.”
He hung up disappointed. He’d hoped today would be the day Jeff Crawley died, but it hadn’t happened, and he wondered why not. Crawley couldn’t be that good, not anymore. Maybe Alec needed help. Nibbling on his index fingernail, he tried to think of who else he could count on. Since being let go by the military, most of his sources had dried up.
If only he could take care of Crawley himself.
Chapter 4
Nancy yawned as she applied her makeup. She’d hardly slept at all. Not only because she feared someone might break into her home, but also because Jeff Crawley had cared enough about her to walk her home. And after what he’d said about her, she felt sure he could maybe care about her in a less platonic way as well, at least a little. Still, that small amount went a long way in giving her hope. Looking into her bathroom mirror, her hands trembled as she applied lipstick.
Dear, she could barely contain the warm, soft feelings welling up in her stomach
. She wondered if he might be interested or if she were overplaying things and he truly was simply being a kind citizen. Experience warned her not to get her hopes too high. Great looking men had never come calling on her. Why would they start now?
Capping the tube, her shoulders slumped. No, they never had and probably never would. Yet, something had happened last night, she was sure of it. What, she had no way of describing, but it touched her deeply and no matter how much she tried to be factual and logical, her heart would not allow it.
She wanted to be loved.
What woman didn’t? But did one her age dare get their hopes up? No, no, she mentally scolded herself. She could very well be setting herself up for a big letdown and that had happened so many times in her life, she didn’t think she could take another fall. Especially if the man knocking her down was the one man she wanted more than any other she had ever come across.
Her cell phone rang, and she reached on her nightstand and picked it up, seeing Kendall’s picture on the screen. “I see you got my message,” she answered. “Sorry I sent it so late.”
Her voice groggy with sleep, Kendall replied, “I saw the word shopping and knew I was in.”
Scanning her bedroom, she took in all the drab furniture fully aware the rest of the house looked the same. “I want to spruce up the house a little. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but after Jeff Crawley came over last night—"
“Jeff?” Kendall interrupted. “You had a male visitor last night?” Now she sounded wide awake—and excited. “Tell me what happened.”
“Whoa,” she said quickly, before Kendall could get too far ahead of herself. “Nothing happened and he didn’t come to visit. He walked me home from the veterans’ meeting and—"
“He walked you home?” Kendall practically shouted with joy. “Well, that’s something.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head. “Please let me explain.”