by Jane Blythe
“Miss, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Mr. Sutton told her.
Right now she didn’t care what he thought. Abe’s house had to be only half a mile away, she just wanted to get there. She was pretty sure she wasn’t hurt badly enough that she was going to pass out along the way.
Pushing past the man and his well-meaning hands that reached out to try to steady her as she stumbled, Meadow started walking.
* * * * *
5:13 P.M.
Abe reached out, and with a gloved hand opened the door of the car.
The first thing he noticed was the smell.
There was the coppery smell of blood that one would expect when a victim had been viciously sliced in half, but there was something else.
Something sweet, flowery, pretty.
“It smells like a meadow in here,” Julian said, standing beside him.
He froze.
His heart clenched.
His cousin was right.
It did smell like a meadow in here.
“What did you just say?” he ground out through clenched teeth. Not because he was angry at his deputy, but because he didn’t want his thoughts to be running in the direction they were currently moving.
“That it smells like a meadow in here,” Julian repeated, his eyes growing wide as he realized what he’d just said. “Do you think …?”
“That this has something to do with Meadow?” Abe asked. He hoped it didn’t, he prayed it didn’t, but Meadow turned up here, clearly on the run, and then just a couple of days later they had two murders. The scene of one was full of flowers that made the car where the body had been left, smell like a meadow. “I hope it doesn’t, but it seems like too big a coincidence to ignore.”
“You think she killed this woman and left the flowers here?” Julian asked.
“No,” he balked at the very notion. “She’s at the hotel with Maggie where I dropped her off this morning. This woman has been dead a couple of hours, there’s no way she could have gotten here and killed her. Besides, Meadow isn’t strong enough, particularly five months pregnant, to lift the body and pose it like that.”
“You think maybe she’s working with a partner then?”
“No. Definitely not,” he said firmly. “Levi and I both saw scars on her arms, and the fear in her eyes when I found her sleeping behind that dumpster that can’t be faked.”
“Then this killer is who she’s running from,” Julian stated the only logical conclusion they could form. If she wasn’t working with this man then she was running from him.
“There’s no way to know that this has anything to do with her,” Abe said, but he knew that wasn’t true. It had been over a year since there had been a murder in River’s End and that was domestic violence. They had known who had committed it, and while that didn’t make it any more pleasant at least it made sense. Since Meadow had arrived in town just days ago, there had been two murders. This poor woman who had been ripped open and left strung up in a car filled with flowers, and the man who had owned the car she had been left in who had been stabbed over a dozen times.
“You’re right,” Julian said, although his face said the opposite. “It could be a coincidence that Meadow turns up in River’s End and then someone kills a guy to steal his truck, then kills a woman in it and leaves dozens of flowers along with the body.”
“Abe, we got another incident.”
Abe looked up at his other cousin Will, and frowned. After spending the last couple of hours at the scenes of two murders he didn’t want any more bad news. “Another murder?”
“No.” Will shook his head. “Attempted murder maybe, someone ran a car off the road and then disappeared when someone stopped to help.”
What was with this sudden crime spree?
Did they have someone who had turned up in his sweet, peaceful little town to try to kill as many people as they could before they were stopped?
“Abe,” Will said, and Abe didn’t like the tone of his cousin’s voice. “The truck that was run off the road was yours.”
His?
Meadow.
If he’d had doubts that this murder was somehow related to her then they were gone now. Whoever had killed this woman must have managed to track Meadow down and attempted to get to her.
Lifting eyes that he was sure portrayed much more of the fear that was swirling inside him than they should have, he asked, “Is Meadow okay?”
“She was conscious at the scene and wouldn’t let anyone help her. Apparently she went running off into the forest.”
So she was gone?
If she had run, he doubted he would ever find her which meant she would be unprotected and ripe for this killer to pluck and take off with her.
“On a hunch that she would go to the one place she felt safe, Fletcher went to your place and she’s there, she’s locked in the bathroom upstairs, she won’t open up and let him in, but he’s staying there until you get there.”
Will had raised a brow as though there was some doubt in his mind that Abe would leave and head straight home to check on Meadow.
There wasn’t.
“You got this?” he asked Julian.
“Of course, I can handle things here. You go make sure Meadow is okay.”
“I’ll call you,” he said, already scrambling in his pocket for the keys to the cruiser they had taken out here after he’d dropped off his car with Meadow. “Will, can you stay here as well please, Julian is going to need a ride back, and since I’m not staying I need both of you here.”
“Sure thing,” Will agreed.
Abe didn’t remember the drive to his house. He was sure he smashed the speed limit, his sirens were screaming and his lights were flashing, practically yelling at anyone who came near him to get out of his way.
Thankfully, he made it home in one piece, and he was relieved to see Fletcher’s car in the driveway. He was afraid that now that this man had killed someone, he would make his move on Meadow. She had managed to evade his earlier attempt, even if it wasn’t because of anything she had specifically done, and he was sure that had made the killer angry.
That the two weren’t related wasn’t even a possibility as far as he was concerned.
“Fletcher,” he called out as he flung his front door open.
Fletcher stepped out of the kitchen. “She’s still up there.”
“It might be better if you leave, she doesn’t do well with strangers.”
“Okay, good luck.”
He nodded once and then took the stairs three at a time. “Meadow,” he said as he hammered on the bathroom door. “It’s Abe. I know what happened, and I know that you didn’t hang around to be checked out by paramedics. Last time I didn’t push you into opening the door, but tonight if you don’t open this door in the next ten seconds, I will break it down. One,” he started counting, he was deadly serious. She had been in a car accident, he needed to know if she was okay, and he needed to know who she was running from before he came for her again. “Two.”
“Okay, okay,” he heard her mumble from the other side of the door and a moment later it swung open.
Abe frowned when he saw her. There was blood on her head along with a lump the size of a golf ball. She had one arm pressed to her chest, and she was hunched over. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed to not sling her over his shoulder and drive her to the hospital.
“Why didn’t you wait for the EMTs?” he forced out through clenched teeth.
Meadow just shrugged.
He grunted, then sighed, then reached out and gently took her elbow. “Let’s go downstairs and patch you up.”
She didn’t fight him and leaned heavily against him as they slowly made their way back downstairs. Since she had managed to make her way back here on foot without passing out, Abe had to assume that her injuries weren’t life-threatening, but she still didn’t look good.
“I’m going to call my brother Levi who you met the other night,” he said as he eased her
down onto the couch. “I know you didn’t want him to look at you then, but you were just in a car accident, and we need to know how badly you’re hurt.”
“No,” she said. Her voice was firm, but when she shook her head he noticed her wince.
He tutted disapprovingly, but stood and left the room, gathering his first aid kit and a wet cloth. Returning to the living room, he sat beside her and took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her face so he could better see her wound. Meadow sucked in a breath, and he couldn’t help but notice that her gaze had dropped to his lips.
Ignoring the sudden stirring in his pants, he dabbed at the blood that streaked her face. “Did you get a look at the car that ran you off the road?”
“No,” Meadow replied softly.
He didn’t believe her. “You know who he is, don’t you?”
She didn’t say anything.
“He killed two people, Meadow,” he informed her as he released her and pulled some butterfly bandages from his kit. “He killed a man to steal his car, then he cut a woman virtually in half and strung her up in the stolen car. He filled the vehicle with flowers so it smelled like a meadow. A meadow,” he repeated for emphasis. He knew she was afraid, but how could he help her if she wouldn’t talk to him?
Still Meadow wouldn’t speak.
Taking her chin again, he placed the small strips of white tape on the cut on her forehead. “You can trust me, Meadow. I want to help you. Is he your boyfriend? Husband? Is he the father of your baby? He followed you here, do you know how? I can’t keep you safe if you won’t talk to me.”
Her eyes met his, and he could practically feel her fear, but she still wouldn’t speak.
She just stared at him.
Silently, begging him to help her.
Lifting his thumb, he brushed it lightly across her bottom lip, and she sucked in a surprised breath.
“I should take your pulse,” he said, his voice husky. He released her chin and picked up her wrist. When he pressed his fingertips to her soft skin he could feel it thumping wildly, but now he wasn’t sure if it was because of the accident or the sudden sexual tension that was crackling around them as loudly as the fire in the fireplace. “Meadow—”
“I’m afraid,” she whispered, turning the hand that he held so that she could curl her fingers around his, clinging to him.
“I know you are,” he said, settling his other hand on her thigh. If he didn’t know it was a really bad idea he’d kiss her just to take her fear away, even for a second. He’d even go so far as to throw her down, rip off her clothes, and make love to her until the sun rose if it made her feel better. “But I will protect you from him. I won’t let him ever lay a hand on you again. Tell me his name so I can arrest him.”
Helplessness shone through those sparkling blue eyes of hers, but she kept her mouth shut. Whatever this man had done to her was enough that she was scared into silence. If Meadow wasn’t going to tell him who the man was then he would find out himself, because there was no way he was letting this beautiful, sweet woman fall into that vicious psychopath’s hands.
No way.
February 6th
3:38 A.M.
Screams.
Someone was screaming.
Meadow woke in a panic.
He was here.
In the house.
He’d found her.
She had no idea how he managed to keep tracking her down, not that it mattered now, he was here, and he was going to take her away with him.
Meadow fought, and it wasn’t until she landed on the floor on her knees with a loud thud that she realized she had been fighting with her blankets.
There was no one in her room.
He wasn’t here.
A dream?
Had the screams just been a dream?
She didn’t remember dreaming about him, but that didn’t mean that she hadn’t. She might have forgotten the dream as soon as she woke up.
Taking long deep breaths, gradually her heart rate began to slow. She was amazed she had been able to fall asleep at all given the accident and the tension that had bubbled between her and Abe while he’d been tending to the cut on her head.
She’d wanted him to kiss her.
If she’d been braver she would have begged him to.
Maybe if she wasn’t such a …
Her train of thought was interrupted, and she jerked upright when she heard the scream again. She was definitely awake this time so it wasn’t just a dream. It had to be Abe. He must have broken in here once they’d fallen asleep and decided to take out Abe before he came for her.
Her instincts were telling her to run.
To run and never ever even contemplate stopping again.
She had to get out of here before he finished with Abe and came for her.
Meadow was halfway down the stairs when she realized she couldn’t do this. She couldn’t just run and leave Abe to his mercy. The man she was running from never showed any mercy, and Abe was in this mess because of her, she couldn’t not try to help him.
Turning around, she crept back up the stairs, searching for a weapon as she went. She found an umbrella and picked it up, clutching it so tightly her knuckles turned white.
With her pulse drumming in her ears and her entire body shaking like she’d been drenched in ice water, Meadow tiptoed into Abe’s bedroom to find …
Nothing.
Abe was lying under a crisp white sheet on his bed, fast asleep.
Maybe she was losing her mind.
Imagining screams when there were none.
It was probably just knowing that he had killed two people today, that he had made an attempt to kidnap her, and the reality of the fact that he was never going to let her be free was messing with her head.
Just as she turned to leave, Abe screamed in the bed behind her.
So she wasn’t crazy, it was Abe’s screams that had awakened her, he must be having a nightmare.
Should she wake him?
Were you supposed to wake someone who was having a nightmare?
No, it was sleepwalking where you weren’t supposed to wake someone, she was pretty sure that it would be okay to wake Abe. She certainly didn’t want to hear him scream again. He was so big, so strong, and she needed to believe that he was big enough and strong enough to protect her if he came back.
Tentatively, she walked to the bed and reached out a hand, stopping just shy of touching him. “Abe?”
He didn’t hear her and began to thrash in his sleep.
“Abe?” she said again, a little louder this time, and she lightly touched her fingertips to his shoulder.
His reaction was instantaneous.
Abe lurched upright, his fist connected with her chest, flinging her backward and into the wall. He snatched up a gun from the nightstand and then he was standing over her, breathing hard, the weapon aimed directly at her head.
“Meadow,” he said when he realized it was her. “I’m so sorry.”
She tried to answer, but he’d hit her right where the seatbelt had bruised her ribs in the car accident, and she couldn’t draw a proper breath.
“Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” he asked, setting the gun down and scooping her into his arms, putting her on the bed. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know it was you, I just felt someone touch me and reacted.”
Since he was rambling and Abe never rambled, she drew in as much of a breath as she could and murmured, “It’s okay. I’m okay.”
“No you’re not,” he said, his hazel eyes filled with remorse.
“I really am,” she assured him as he plumped up pillows and eased her back to rest upon them. “You were having a nightmare, I heard screaming, I thought it was him.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
She didn’t want his apologies, she didn’t need them, he hadn’t done anything wrong, she knew all about nightmares. Sometimes the worst kind of nightmares weren’t the ones filled with monsters, they were the ones filled
with happiness because then you had to wake up and find you really were with a monster. Since Abe was obviously upset about hurting her she tried to change the subject. “What was your dream about?”
His eyes grew dark, and she thought he wasn’t going to answer. She couldn’t blame him, it wasn’t like she had been forthcoming about her past, and she was sure he must have seen some horrendous things while he was in the military.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me,” she said quickly. Her chest no longer felt like it was about to explode, so she may as well get out of here and get back to bed.
When she moved to get off the bed he stopped her. “Stay,” he said simply. “The dream was about my ex.”
“You were married?” she asked, not sure how much she should pry.
“Engaged. My high school sweetheart. I enlisted as soon as I graduated, and we thought we were in love, I proposed, and she said yes, said she would wait for me.”
“She lied?” Meadow asked, reading between the lines.
“Leaving her was hard, but the marines were in my blood, and I knew I wanted to do a tour before I came home to her and we decided what the rest of our lives looked like. She said she was okay with that. I missed her every day I was gone, I called when I could, sent emails when I could, I dreamed about what our lives would be like, but I was happy with what I was doing. It was hard. I lost a lot of friends, had my fair share of close calls, but the closest was a woman who put explosives in a bassinette with her two-month-old son knowing we would go up to the abandoned baby, try to help him, that bomb took out nearly a dozen men.”
Even though she knew Abe wasn’t one of them her heart clenched as she realized how close he had come to dying. How could a mother do that to her own baby? Absently her hand rested on her stomach, she might have mixed feelings about her own baby, but she couldn’t imagine doing anything to hurt it.
“The day I came home to her I felt like I was starting my life over, it was a whole new world, and I was looking forward to sharing it with her. And then that dream was over. I walked into our house and found her in bed with another man.”