Sweet Town Love

by Maggie Ryan

  “Not if, as Jon said, it was for those particular things.”

  “Hmm, well, like I said, they would be very surprised and disappointed if they tried to sell it.” Her eyes showed her worry. “What if that wasn’t all they were after?”

  “You need to be extra cautious. Lock your doors. Be more observant for a little while. It’s likely to have been random, but just in case.” Willow could hear the seriousness in Tristan’s voice. Unlike Jon, Tristan was not smiling any longer.

  “Okay, I will.” She checked her watch and frowned. “Sorry, guys, but if you’re sure I’m safe enough, I have a meeting to get to and work to finish. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.”

  The troopers stepped back, and Willow drove to the house thinking about the man she had met today. I wonder what it would be like to be important to him, be the one he came home to, took care of? Would he be stern in the bedroom? She experienced another shiver but this time of heat.

  “Snap out of it,” she spoke aloud in the car, “he wouldn’t be interested in a non-conventional woman like you. You work all hours and eat whenever. You make controversial votes on the council.” Still, it’d be nice to cuddle up to a lover again.

  The next few days went by in a rush as she juggled her workload and the rain boot walk. She hated that she felt as though she needed to be aware of her surroundings in a protective way. She had run into Tristan Hart once, during the walk but all she could do from her podium was watch him wander and chat with people as he passed them. He spied her and waved, but she was called on to help with something and could only return his smile and wave back. He really was an attractive man, and he starred in her dreams nightly now.

  It was Monday morning; one week after her car was broken into and she was beginning to relax again. Willow checked her time and sighed. She was going to be late for the first of three work sessions at the council chambers if she didn’t get a move on it. It was a beautiful day, and the weather wouldn’t be an excuse. If she had to, she would use the break-in as an explanation. Punctuality was important to her even if culturally it didn’t matter as much.

  She grabbed her bags and walked out of the door. She had a bag for each task in her life that was ongoing. She had her borough council attaché, art pack, camera bag, an all-day tote that carried her snacks and water, running bag, and arts council portfolio. It helped her keep control of her life when some days all she wanted to do was art. She smiled to herself as she ran out of the door. Art was her life, and she was happy she could make a good living doing it while helping the community. She sighed as she walked into the chambers for day one.

  By the third day of the bi-annual work session, Willow was ready for it to end. The council had been unusually quarrelsome today, most likely because they were all tired. One of the hot topics on the agenda was the newest investigator, Trooper Hart. Willow listened as nonchalantly as she could and still appear to be attending to the conversation.

  “Why do we need an investigator from the Alaska Investigations Bureau anyway?” whined Jonas Milton. That man’s voice grated on Willow’s nerves to the point of bringing on nausea. She redirected her thoughts to the stern but scrumptious trooper.

  “We’ve gone over this,” admonished the borough mayor. “There is more crime around here than ever before. I need help to get a handle on it. It was important to have someone to help with goodwill as well as crack down on drugs coming in on boats.”

  “We’ve always done well on our own. If you bring in more of the state, then we get more interference,” piped up Councilwoman Marion Rogers, aka town gossip.

  “Well,” disclosed Willow, “I’ve met him, and I think he’ll be okay.”

  “Why’d you say that?” Marion turned to the slouching Willow. “What do you mean, you’ve met him? Is he here already?” Marion whipped her head back around to cast an accusing look at the mayor.

  He nodded. “Been here a couple of weeks I think.”

  The room erupted in complaints about why he was there. The drugs weren’t that bad an issue, and the trouble they would cause. Willow decided to keep her little break in her secret for now. It would show up on the troopers’ report in the paper, but until then, her news was private.

  By the time they concluded the final work session, Willow had irritated half of the council with her dissenting votes or challenging questions and completed two pre-paint drawings. There were certainly more heated arguments today than most board workdays. She was exhausted and thankful when she pulled up into her drive. Home at last. She was going to get into her jammies and veg the rest of the night.

  She twisted in her seat to grab her bag and decided to park in the garage today. For some reason, she was uneasy. More so than the day her car was broken into. She rarely used it for her car, but she had an unexplained feeling in her belly tonight.

  Hitting the door opener, Willow found that it was stuck from lack of use, but finally, it released with a pop. She watched the door open out and rise up. She drove forward, careful not to hit the sides that she knew held essential items like her outdoor easels. There was some sort of swift movement at the front passenger area of the garage. It looked too tall and thin for an animal.

  With the way the garage door groaned to open, it was evident it had been a little while since it had been used. The figure was in the shadows of the darkest corner, and she strained to see what or whom it was while ensuring she had her car doors locked. She wished there wasn’t an alcove in that corner so her lights would reach in. Her heart was pounding so hard she heard it in her ears. Her chest hurt. She froze until her phone’s dinner alarm went off to remind her to eat.

  It snapped her out of her stupor. She was glad she had invested in the booster for her cell. Otherwise, she would have had to go into the house or drive back down the road a few miles, and she would never know what was in the garage. She resisted the urge to move her vehicle. She dismissed the desperate hope that Trooper Hart would come and take care of her. That wouldn’t happen. He would be off duty by now.

  “Willow?” asked the dispatcher after hearing her problem.

  “Yes?”

  “Trooper Hart said to pull out of the garage and drive to the next house. He wants you to wait for him.”

  “Does he know that is two miles away?”

  “Let me check,” she responded.

  “Um, Willow?” The dispatcher’s inflection was hesitant.

  “Yes?”

  “He said, ‘good, tell her to go there.’ ”

  “That’s tough. Rhonda? Tell him I will pull out of the drive but not two miles away.”

  “Willow, I’ll tell him but he’s likely to be irritated.”

  Willow couldn’t worry about whether the dispatcher was concerned about a trooper’s response. This was her family home, and if someone thought they could scare her away, she'd decided it must have been a person, they had another think coming. On the other hand, she needed to be safe so she put the car in reverse. It was then that she saw him run past the passenger door, hitting the door as he went. He took off into the forest next to her house.

  She hollered at the runner and opened the door to go after him, but he ran well. She hadn’t been able to see his clothes or face for that matter. It was dark, and the shadows quickly enveloped him.

  “Willow, are you all right? Did anything happen?” The dispatcher’s voice was intense but composed. Willow was anything but calm. Her head pounded, and she was shaking.

  “I'm all right. As I was backing the car out, a person ran out along the right side of my vehicle into the woods.”

  Sound carries along the foot of the mountain, so when Willow heard the sirens she knew they were still a distance away. She mentioned she heard them coming and suddenly, the sound disappeared.

  “Huh, now I can’t hear them coming. Did they get lost?” asked a concerned Willow as she scanned the garage for another movement.

  “No, they hadn’t realized how far the sound carried until I told the
m you heard them. They turned the siren off and cut their flashers to come in quiet. Stay on the line with me until the trooper gets there. Don’t get out of your vehicle and keep your car on in case you have to pull away fast.”

  “Um, about that, oh, wait, they’re here.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yep, I see two cars. One is a black or dark colored pick up and the other a white SUV.”

  “Good, the black truck is Trooper Hart. He was on his way home when he heard the dispatch. Okay, I’ll get off now. Good luck.”

  “Willow Ashcroft?” asked the trooper in front shining his flashlight in her direction.

  “Yes, it’s me,” she answered with a tremor in her voice as she turned off her car.

  She hadn’t realized how frightened she’d been until now. The adrenaline was beginning to seep away as the ebbing tide, now that she was safe. She looked for Tristan Hart, but it was inky dark. She knew it was silly to think he would provide any more protection than the next officer would, but she did.

  “Willow,” the deep and surprisingly concerned voice of Trooper Hart spoke up. “Are you all right? You weren’t hurt?”

  She turned her head, straining her eyes to see the man approaching. She wouldn’t cry, she admonished her internal chaos of emotion. She blinked the smarting tears back, grateful for the darkness.

  “No, I’m good. I never actually left my car all the way. I would have done if the person didn’t show himself as I was driving in. I started to go after him but…” she shrugged.

  “You did what?” Tristan ran his hand over the back of his neck. “Stay here. Trooper Cannon and I will go inside to make sure things are okay. Is there an alarm or dog, or anything we should know about?”

  “No, but are you sure I should stay out here, that I’m safe? I mean what if he wasn’t alone or what if he comes back?”

  Willow saw that Trooper Cannon was already walking around to check and he didn’t seem to be flushing anything out. Tristan leaned into the space left open by the car door, standing close to her. She turned toward him from her SUV seat and still had to look up. His presence sent another shiver through her. This time, it was his nearness, his scent still faintly discernible even after a long day. It encouraged her to inhale deeply, and she did so without thinking.

  His hand slid under her chin and lifted her face toward his. “Willow, we’re going to go inside and make sure things are clear before you can go in. The car is the safest place for you. You can lock the doors, honk the horn, leave your lights on and I can even call you on my cell phone so you can hear me if you like.” His voice was gentle but determined, and he reasoned well for a man who must be as tired as she was after a long day.

  “I know he was inside. I know it.”

  “How do you know? You didn’t see him except in here, right?”

  “Right, but when I decided to park the car in here, I had a harder time getting the door open with the remote. It kind of jerked, as if it was stuck. I don’t use this entry often so it made sense. Anyway, that’s how I know he had to go through the house because of the door.”

  Tristan’s hand ran down the side of her hair in an absentminded way, and Willow fought the urge to lean into the caress.

  “Been a rough day I bet, but I need to check out the house before you go in.” He straightened and his voice seemed to firm up as well. “Please wait out here. We’ll be as quick as we can.”

  Trooper Cannon came around the backside of the SUV. “It’s dark so I might have missed some evidence, but there isn’t anyone around here now.” He looked at Willow, “And certainly not in the garage so you’re safe.” All she could muster was a half-smile in response.

  “Okay, sit tight,” Tristan said as he patted her arm and walked toward the inner door to the house. It was unlocked.

  “Hey, did you unlock this?” he asked.

  “No, but I don’t always lock it. Not with the garage door shut and locked.”

  “Right.”

  The men were gone inside leaving a thunderous silence that gave Willow, who was never bothered living alone since her parents moved south, and her brother, north, an uneasy fluttering. She could hear them and wondered what the noise was. Soon two heads poked out of the doorway, and Willow sighed. All was well. She began to get out of the vehicle and Trooper Cannon said, “Ma’am, does anyone live here with you?”

  “No,” she answered as she put her feet on the cement floor, reaching for her bag. “Why?”

  “Well,” he started before looking over at Tristan.

  “Yeah, well, it’s a rather big mess in there. Someone was definitely rummaging around.”

  “Are you sure? I’m not the best housekeeper sometimes.”

  “Oh?” questioned Trooper Cannon. “I think you’re probably better than what it looks like now.”

  “Let me see,” insisted Willow and Tristan stood in her way. “I want you to prepare yourself. It’s a real toss in there.”

  She nodded her understanding. Tristan stepped out of her way but following close behind. Willow stepped in and made a little noise.

  Chapter 2

  It was a total disaster, and by her immediate recoil, he knew this was nothing at all like her professed messy housecleaning habits. He saw the tears gather in her eyes as she looked at the annihilation that filled her home. Personal items were angrily thrown everywhere. Her immediate safety was called into question. Tristan had the urge to wrap her up in his arms and carry her back out of the disaster zone. He wished she could’ve skipped the experience of seeing the house, but there was no way to eliminate the necessity of her walking through it.

  He knew when she inventoried the losses her peace of mind and security would top that list. Tristan’s desire to shield her from dealing with this reality was incredibly overwhelming. He was glad she didn’t have to do that inventory tonight. He wouldn’t let her anyway. She looked as destroyed as her inner sanctum. She seemed hurt, as though she couldn’t believe someone would do this to her. He fought the impulse to take her in his arms and soothe her.

  She was feisty. Tristan loved feisty. She had occupied his thoughts continually since he’d met her. It was ludicrous, but he wanted to protect her as if she were his. That thought startled his single mind. He didn’t often date, partly because of his job and the available choices out there. He had rarely dated exclusively, and those times did not turn out well. Crazily, the urges he was trying to ignore from the little time that he had already spent with her, told him he might be at real risk of being drawn into her life.

  She had a zest for life as evidenced by her fingers in many pies. She could take the lemons distributed by life and make exquisite lemonade. He had read a little of her background as he researched this community when he got his assignment. She was a person of note for the area. Divorced at a young age, she lived alone, but full of community spirit. Even now, she didn’t condemn anyone or even guess at the culprit.

  “Well, I should make a path.” She sighed before turning and looking into Tristan’s eyes. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do at this point. You make the report, and I will clean the mess I guess. I need to see my studio.”

  He straightened to clear his thoughts and refocus on safety, Willow’s safety. He placed his hand on her arm, causing her to jump from the contact.

  “Easy, let me take you someplace where you’ll sleep better. Come back tomorrow to go through this. It’ll be daylight then. I can check back with you, help look at things if you like.”

  Before he was finished with his words, Willow was pushing him away, shaking her head. “No, I need to be here. I mean, can you look around and see where he came in? You know so I can barricade it. I’m going nowhere. It’s my home.”

  He let her walk a few steps away from him, but he couldn’t let her go any further. He understood her need to put things back to rights. Put her life back to where it was when she started this week. However, his protection meter was going off, and the darned thing wouldn’t quit screami
ng at him. He followed Willow as she tried to process what she saw. He was grateful she allowed his light touch on her shoulder. He wanted more but was satisfied for now.

  She reached for the handle to a closed door, and Tristan caught her hand.

  “I have to look in there, Tristan, it’s my studio.” Her eyes begged him as if it were necessary for her life. He almost gave in but pulled her a step back, instead.

  “Willow,” he said, bringing her around to look at him, both hands on her upper arms, dark blue eyes connecting with her dark browns. “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you destroy evidence. We need to find this guy.”

  She hesitated before nodding at him. Thank goodness. He didn’t want to get into a clash of wills right now because he would have to win and that wouldn’t sit well with Willow. In fact, if Tristan were to describe Willow Ashcroft it would include independent, community minded, talented, resourceful and stubborn, typically, all good traits. When combined with any of her other attributes, stubborn was good, but in this case, it could spell trouble. She needed to trust him tonight.

  He had to get her out of here for now. He needed her out of here. He had to keep her safe, and he couldn’t do that and leave her here alone. Tristan knew his instincts were usually spot on, but it should be obvious to even the most casual observer that this act was about Willow and not random.

  “Willow, who can you go stay with tonight?” He felt his gut clench when she avoided him.

  “No, I’m going nowhere.” Determination carved on her face. “This was my family’s homestead over a hundred years ago.”

  She walked away, and his heart began to sink. She wasn’t taking her safety seriously.

  His voice became rough with his frustration. “I’m not asking you to close it up, just stay the night in town or with someone for a few nights. I know it would be hard with your art here, but, Willow, your safety is my first concern. I want you to move back in, but right now you can’t be alone here.”