Stalker In the Shadows

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Stalker In the Shadows Page 16

by Carla Cassidy


  She swallowed hard against her tears. “I needed to do whatever I could to keep Melinda away from Peter. If he gets his hands on her, he’ll eventually destroy her.”

  “I’m sorry you’ve had to make the choices that you have,” he said. His eyes filled with compassion. “That’s no way for a woman, for a child to live.”

  “I thought I was finally safe here,” she said with a touch of bitterness. “Melinda loves it here, and we were hoping to make it our forever home.”

  “If we catch Peter, you could still make this your forever home,” he said. Once again he looked down at the dog, making it impossible for her to read any emotion that might emanate from his beautiful eyes.

  She released another sigh. “We’ll see.”

  She couldn’t see into the future, and Hunter wasn’t giving any clue as to whether there was any hope for them to come out of this as a couple. Right now it felt unlikely that they would come out of it together. That thought made her want to leave, to run from all the memories of him and love that were in this small town.

  But she had Melinda to think about. Melinda loved it here. She’d made good friends and loved school, and it was difficult to contemplate tearing her away from all those good things just because Colette couldn’t suck it up and figure out how to live here without Hunter in her life.

  She could only hope that with time, Hunter would forgive her and love her once again.

  HUNTER BREATHED A deep sigh of relief once Colette finally left the living room to unpack and go to bed. Their conversations had been difficult, and he knew she wanted something from him that he just couldn’t give her right now.

  Everything he’d learned about her was just too new. She’d lied to him about so many things—how was he to trust that what she was saying to him now was true?

  This wasn’t over with yet, and it was in her best interest to keep him emotionally close to her. If they got Peter behind bars, then would she confess that she’d lied about loving Hunter? Would she then admit that she’d only been using him?

  God, he was so confused. But one thing he wasn’t confused about—he wanted Peter Waverly behind bars and facing attempted murder charges for what he’d done to her last night.

  He grabbed a blanket and a spare bed pillow from his hallway closet. He tossed them on the sofa and then turned out all the lights except for the light above the stove. If she got up in the middle of the night for a drink of water, at least she’d be able to see what she was doing.

  With his gun on the coffee table, he finally got out of his clothes except for his boxers and then stretched out on the sofa with Zeus at his feet.

  He was utterly exhausted and yet sleep remained elusive. He found himself thinking about his marriage to Emily. She’d been his high school sweetheart and as far as he was concerned one of the prettiest girls in town.

  He’d thought he knew her inside and out. The one thing he hadn’t known was just how duplicitous she was. Lies had fallen so easily from her lips, lies that he’d believed because he wanted to so badly.

  When she’d left their marriage, he’d walled up his heart, built sturdy fences inside him so that nobody could ever hurt him like that again.

  And then he’d met Ainsley Meadows, a woman he’d believed was open and honest, a woman he believed would be his future. And she’d shattered his trust all over again.

  He understood the reasons she’d chosen to live undercover, and he recognized why she’d lied to him. But emotionally he was having trouble wrapping his head around things.

  Right now he was afraid to tap back into the love he’d had for her. He was afraid to feel at all. All he wanted to focus on for the moment was finding Peter. He wanted to make sure that from this point on Colette and Melinda would be safe from the man who was obviously a brutal monster.

  He finally fell asleep and into nightmares of Peter chasing Colette down a dark street. Peter wielded a long knife that glittered in a streetlamp. Hunter held his gun in his hand. He fired it at Peter, only to discover his gun held no bullets.

  Knowing he needed to get to Peter before the man could kill Colette, Hunter tried to run, but his feet and legs refused to move. He jerked awake covered in a cold sweat and panting as if he’d just run a marathon.

  He swung his feet over the edge of the sofa, aware that the first stir of morning was peeking over the horizon. Zeus sat up and yawned and then jumped down from the sofa.

  Hunter got up and let him out the back door and then started a pot of coffee. He was up about an hour earlier than he usually got up on workdays, but there was no way he wanted to doze off again and fall back into the nightmares that had chased him all night long.

  Once he got the coffee working, he then went into the office where he’d hung several of his uniforms before Colette had taken over his room. He grabbed one of them and then headed for the shower.

  After washing off he remained standing beneath a hot spray of water as if it had the power to unjumble his thoughts. Unfortunately it didn’t help.

  Once he was finished showering and then dressing, he returned to the kitchen. He let Zeus back inside, poured himself a cup of coffee and sank down at the kitchen table.

  He hated having to go in to work today, but one more deputy on the streets made the odds of them finding Peter that much better. However, he believed the man had probably left town. He’d be stupid to stay knowing that everyone in the area was looking for him.

  If he had left town and wasn’t captured in the next day or two, then Colette would remain at risk. He frowned and sipped his coffee, the idea unsettling to him. How could she live with the threat of him killing her continuing to hang over her head?

  How had she lived for the past three years? The mental, the emotional pressure on her had to have been so intense. Had she gone to bed every night with terror on her mind? Had that terror ever released its grip on her?

  Compassion for her situation, for what she’d been through and what she might still have to endure, fluttered through him. God, he wished it could end for her here, but there was no guarantee it would.

  And then what?

  That’s the part he couldn’t think about right now.

  He’d just poured his second cup of coffee when Colette came into the kitchen. She was already dressed in a pair of pink jogging pants and a matching sweatshirt. Her long dark hair was damp, letting him know she’d already showered in the master bath.

  The bruise on her lower jaw appeared even more livid this morning. The sight of it made him want to slam his fist into Peter Waverly’s face.

  “Hmm, that coffee smells wonderful,” she said.

  “Have a seat and I’ll pour you a cup.”

  “Nonsense, just tell me where the cups are and I can get it.”

  “Right cabinet above the sink,” he replied.

  As she walked by him, he caught a whiff of her scent...a clean smell coupled with the hint of her perfume. His stomach tightened with tension in response. Even knowing all the lies she’d told him, his body still yearned for hers. It was his mind that was having problems sorting his emotions out.

  She got her coffee and then joined him at the table. “Did you sleep well?” she asked.

  “I slept okay.” He wasn’t about to share with her the nightmares he’d suffered. “What about you?”

  “I slept all right.”

  “You’re up early.”

  “I’m used to being up early to open the café. What time do you go in to work this morning?” She took a sip of the coffee. Above the cup her beguiling eyes begged him to let her back into his thoughts...his heart.

  He steeled himself against them. He wasn’t ready to untangle his emotions where she was concerned. “I need to leave here around seven thirty or so.”

  “There’s enough time for me to make you some breakfast,” she said. “I mean, if I’m not overstepping kit
chen privileges.”

  He couldn’t help but smile. “For as long as you’re here, you have full kitchen privileges. And while I appreciate the offer, I’m not much of a breakfast eater. Feel free to help yourself to whatever you want.”

  “I’m not much of a breakfast eater, either. Coffee is good enough for me.” She raised the cup for another drink.

  “Do you know how to shoot a gun?”

  Her eyes widened in surprise, and she lowered the cup to the table. “Point and pull the trigger. That’s all I know about guns. Why?”

  “I’ve got a nine millimeter that’s for my personal use. I’m going to leave it here for you. Could you actually shoot your ex-husband?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Absolutely. I know his only goal is to kill me, so I could absolutely shoot him to save myself.”

  He believed her. Her eyes burned with determination. “I’ll be right back.” He got up from the table and went into the room he used as an office.

  He grabbed his keys and unlocked the right top drawer. Inside was the spare gun he kept for security purposes. He took the gun out of the drawer, checked it to make sure the safety was on, and then he carried it back into the kitchen.

  As he set it on the table with the barrel facing the wall, she looked at it soberly and then looked up at him. “I can’t believe it’s come to this,” she said softly.

  “To be perfectly honest, my gut instinct is he’s left town. I think they would have caught him by now if he was still in Dusty Gulch. However, just in case I’m wrong, I want you to be able to protect yourself while you’re here alone. Before I leave to go to work, I’ll take the safety off so all you have to do is point and pull the trigger.”

  She nodded. “Aim for center mass, right?”

  “Right,” he replied, surprised she knew the term.

  She grinned at him. “I picked that up while watching police shows on television.”

  Her grin caught him off guard, and a well of love for her rose up inside him. He stared down into his coffee cup. Damn her for ruining things. Damn her for not telling him the truth as soon as they started seriously dating each other. Damn her for twisting and tangling his emotions to the point where he didn’t know what to feel.

  “Center mass is right,” he now replied. For a moment they sipped their coffee in silence. Then she looked at him, and all her features softened. A soft pleading filled her eyes.

  “Hunter...” she began.

  He held up his hand. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?”

  It would be so easy to fall into the blue depths of her winsome eyes, but he couldn’t allow himself. “Colette, I don’t want any heart-to-heart discussions right now. I can’t think about us right now.”

  He saw the pain that dimmed the brightness in her eyes, and he hated himself for putting it there. But at the moment, he didn’t know if they had a path forward or not. The last thing he wanted to do was give her any false hope about what might happen between them in the future.

  “I just want to tell you thank-you for letting me stay here and for keeping me safe,” she finally replied.

  “Protect and serve, that’s our motto.”

  “We both know you’re going way above your duty,” she replied. “You’re a great deputy, and you’re a wonderful, good man.”

  He didn’t feel like a good man right now. He still felt numb. Once again they fell into an uncomfortable silence. She looked at the clock over the stove and got up from the table. “I’m just going to go back and call Juanita’s to check in on Melinda before school.”

  He drew a deep breath as she left the kitchen. There was no question that things were going to be awkward between them. Sharing space with so many things unresolved between them was going to create more than a little bit of tension.

  When it was time for him to leave for work, he was torn with the desire to get out on the streets and find Peter and remain here with her to make sure she stayed safe.

  “Make sure you only touch the trigger if you intend to shoot somebody,” he said as he took the safety of the gun off. “Where do you want to keep it?”

  “How about on the coffee table. I plan on spending most of the day in the living room.”

  He placed the gun on the coffee table. “You know how to use the television. Help yourself to anything you want to eat, and I’ll bring home dinner for us from the café.”

  “I would be glad to cook something for us,” she offered.

  “I’d rather just bring something home. Is there anything in particular you’d like?” As silly as it sounded, he didn’t want her to cook dinner for them. It felt too intimate...too much like they were a cozy couple.

  “Anything is fine. Just surprise me.” She walked with him to the front door. He started to go out the door, but she stopped him by placing her hand on his arm. “Hunter, stay safe today.”

  “Always,” he replied with a reassuring smile. “If you get scared or something doesn’t seem right, call me. One of the other deputies or I will come running.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine,” she replied.

  He wanted to touch her. He wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her tight. He needed to run a finger down the side of her soft cheek or touch a strand of her silky hair. He didn’t do any of those things.

  “Lock the door behind me, and I’ll see you later today.” He practically ran out of the house with the need to escape her. It was crazy, but he’d rather face down a psycho killer than face his emotions where Colette was concerned.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The minute Hunter left, he seemed to take all the oxygen, all the life out of the air with him. She locked the front door and then went into the living room and sat on the edge of the sofa.

  She stared at the gun on the coffee table. Could she shoot to kill her ex-husband, the father of her child? As she thought of all the times he’d beaten her, of the intense mental and physical pain he’d put her through, the answer was easy. Yes, she could definitely shoot to kill him.

  More important than the crimes Peter had already perpetrated against her were the crimes she feared he would perpetrate against their daughter. For that alone Colette could kill him.

  If Peter really had left town, then a new nearly insurmountable issue would arise. How could she continue to stay here if he knew where she was? Even if Hunter forgave her and professed his love for her, how could she stay if Peter got away?

  She turned on the television in an attempt to escape her depressing thoughts. Hopefully, in the next couple of days, she would know whether Peter was truly gone from the area. Then she would have to make a decision about what to do next.

  She had told Hunter she’d slept well, but that wasn’t exactly the truth. She’d had trouble getting comfortable. Her ribs hurt and the bruise on her chin throbbed with pain, keeping her awake off and on throughout the night. And if the physical pain hadn’t been enough, she’d been unable to turn off her thoughts.

  She found a channel with a game show on. She kept the volume fairly low so she could hear any other noises throughout the house. Zeus jumped up on the sofa next to her and curled up at her side.

  She stroked his soft fur and tried to keep her mind empty, but it was impossible. She’d dreamed of living here with Hunter and Zeus and Melinda. She’d dreamed of them all being a happy family.

  She definitely owed her daughter a big apology for not believing her about her father speaking to her at night. Who could have guessed it was true, that Peter had installed all the equipment in the café attic?

  Shoving away these thoughts, she tried to focus on the game show. At noon she let Zeus out of the back door and then opened the refrigerator to find something for lunch.

  She’d hoped to hear from Hunter by now and learn that Peter had been found and arrested, but apparently there was nothing new to report. She found a can of tuna i
n the pantry and made herself a sandwich with chips for lunch.

  When she was finished eating, she walked to the front windows and peered outside. She knew from talking with Hunter that most of his neighbors worked and weren’t home during the days.

  She saw nothing amiss in the area. As she stood there, a patrol car slowly drove by and then disappeared down the street. With a sigh she turned away and walked to the back door to let Zeus back inside.

  The dog danced in, followed by a man she’d seen often in the café. “Hank, what are you doing here? What do you want?” Why would Hank Bridges be here? Why had he just come through Hunter’s back door?

  “Hello, Colette.”

  The familiar voice shot disbelief through her. She stared at him. Her brain froze. No wonder they hadn’t been able to find him. He looked nothing like the photo she’d given to them. He was the new man in town...he’d walked the sidewalks free and easy, he’d eaten several times in the café with Sheila Turrel. Peter!

  She stumbled backward from the door. The sight of him here and now shot sheer terror through her.

  The gun. She had to get to the gun. She turned to run, but he caught her leg and she fell to the floor. She rolled over on her back and kicked at him. Zeus barked as if to protest what was going on.

  He backed up a bit from her and laughed. “Ah, Colette, I’ve so looked forward to this reunion.”

  “Go away, Peter,” she said breathlessly. “Just leave me alone.”

  He laughed again, the sound shooting arctic chills up her spine. “Now you know that isn’t going to happen. You have to pay for leaving me, for taking my daughter away from me.”

  “You don’t care about Melinda. You never loved her or me.”

  “Love has nothing to do with this. You belonged to me.” He leaned over her and grinned.

  She had to get to the gun. She’d been stupid to open the door without the weapon in her hand. She needed to get up. She kicked at him again, needing to gain some distance to get to her feet and run for the gun.

  He kicked her, connecting with the rib he’d broken. Pain screamed through her, blurring her vision as she lost her breath.

 

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