- -
- 100%
- +
Johnny opened the doors to the outside and the crisp morning air hit him. He stepped down onto the stone patio. Dandelions pushed through the cracks between the pavers. Maybe he’d fix a few things while he was here. Every improvement would help his grandfather sell the place sooner—if only he could convince him now was the perfect time to sell.
To date Johnny hadn’t been able to convince his grandfather of anything.
“You’re up early,” Johnny called to his grandfather.
His grandfather, or “Buddy” as most people called him, stopped raking and rested his elbow on the handle. “The older I get, the less I sleep.”
Johnny imagined his grandfather had a lot of regrets that kept him awake at night.
“Any break in the case?”
Johnny bent and yanked a dandelion out by the roots. “Not yet.” He had told his grandfather he was in town working on a case, but he hadn’t given him many details. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his grandfather; he just didn’t want to put the elderly gentleman in the position of accidentally compromising an active investigation.
“Your investigation... Does it have anything to do with that intruder over at the new gift shop?”
Johnny angled his head and studied his grandfather. “How did you know about that?”
Duke, the golden retriever, ran over to Johnny and was rewarded with a pat on the head. Johnny pulled a dry leaf from the patch of gray in the dog’s fur.
“Heard about it when I ran up to the convenience store for the morning paper.”
“Nothing goes unnoticed in a small town.”
“You should know that by now.” Buddy arched his gray brow. “Whatever you’re working on, be careful. People have long memories and still blame you for ruining those boys’ lives.”
“You mean the boys I arrested for dealing drugs at the high school?” Johnny bit back the sarcasm.
“One of them wasn’t convicted.”
“Doesn’t mean he wasn’t guilty.”
“That’s not how people think. You know that. People don’t forget.” His grandfather jabbed at a pile of leaves with the rake. “Sometimes I think more people were upset you ruined the chances of the baseball team going to the state championship than about the arrests themselves.”
Johnny shook his head. “There’s more at stake now. A young boy died of a drug overdose. I need to get these drugs off the street. They are nasty stuff. Deadlier than most.”
His grandfather walked toward him and stumbled on a root. Johnny lunged forward to catch him, but the older man righted himself with the support of the rake before Johnny reached him. “Stupid roots.” Buddy shook his head. “I know how important this investigation is. Even though there’s plenty of crime in Buffalo, you keep ending up back here in Williamstown.”
“The chief of police requested the FBI’s help.”
“Maybe after you reached out to them after seeing news of the boy’s death on TV?” The sudden surge of deaths due to drugs throughout the area had made the death of a Williamstown honor student news, even forty minutes away in Buffalo.
Johnny didn’t say anything.
His grandfather balanced the rake against a small patio table and lowered himself slowly onto a wrought-iron chair that could have used a fresh coat of paint. He rubbed Duke’s head playfully and made a few affectionate noises. After a minute he said, “Your being here has nothing to do with Mary Claire getting hooked on drugs when she was a student at Williamstown?”
Buddy’s hands shook as he spoke of his only daughter. Johnny’s mother.
Johnny swallowed around a lump in his throat, not trusting his voice.
“You never did get over losing your mother.”
How did one get over losing a mother due to a drug overdose when he was twelve, which had then landed him in foster care? No, that pretty much stuck in a kid’s mind. Forever.
Johnny was lucky—if he could call it that—that he had just come off a pretty rough case and his direct supervisor at the FBI had thought he needed some downtime. They had agreed on a compromise: Johnny could take a pseudo leave of absence and help his grandfather get the old Victorian house ready for sale, all while serving in an official FBI capacity to help the Williamstown police department get the drugs off the street.
The wind whispered through the trees, sending more leaves floating to the ground. “You’ve got a big job out here,” Johnny said, referring to the leaves.
Johnny didn’t like talking about his mother, even though her loss was seldom far from his mind. His grandfather rarely mentioned her either, so this morning’s comment had thrown Johnny for a loop. He and his grandfather had a cordial relationship. Not a deep one.
“You know I would have taken you in when you lost your mother if I could have.” His grandfather glanced up at him briefly with glistening eyes, and then away to his faithful companion as if embarrassed. “See, your grandmother... Well, Dottie couldn’t accept that her daughter...her only child, had made so many bad decisions.”
Johnny had never understood why he’d had to go into foster care. Why his grandparents had never taken him in. When he’d tried to broach the topic years ago, Buddy had changed the subject. Perhaps when Johnny had come to stay with his grandfather a decade ago—a few months after his grandmother had died—he hadn’t yet been ready to open up.
“I appreciate you letting me crash here now. That’s what counts.” Johnny struggled to get the words out without revealing emotion. He had gotten good at that over the years.
His grandfather had a distant look in his eyes. “I should have insisted we take you in when you were just a young boy. It wasn’t right what we did to you.” Regret rolled off him in waves and crashed on Johnny, pounding him with his own list of shoulda-coulda-wouldas. “Your grandmother was in so much pain and seeing you was a reminder of everything we had lost. I thought...”
Johnny put his hand on his grandfather’s shoulder as if to say, “It’s okay,” since the words got clogged in his throat. He took a moment to compose himself. “As far as anyone else is concerned, I’m in town to help you move. Only the local police are aware of the drug investigation.”
And Ellie knew, but he didn’t want to get into that yet with his grandfather. Part of him was glad she knew. He wanted to be honest with her. Not hide behind his usual cloak of some fake identity.
As long as she was deserving of his trust.
“I don’t want to leave this old place. Where would I go?” The lost look in his grandfather’s eyes cut through him. “And what about Duke?” Buddy patted the dog’s back. “Maybe it’s time you moved on, son. There’s plenty of crime in Buffalo, right?” Buddy’s mouth slanted into a sad, lopsided grin.
“Yes, I’m afraid there is. But I need to be here.”
“I’m afraid we’ll never find peace. No matter what. Mary Claire’s death was senseless.”
Johnny jerked his head back.
“Don’t look at me like that. You know what I mean. You’re trying to fix a wrong that can’t be fixed.”
“If I can save one kid, it’ll be worth it.”
“Make sure you don’t lose yourself in the process.” Buddy stood and approached Johnny. He tapped his grandson’s cheek.
Nostalgia made his gut ache. He wished the years of hurt hadn’t bent his grandfather’s once-tall stature.
Johnny found himself studying the overgrown tree roots pushing through the plush grass. “I have plans later this afternoon, but I thought we could start by going through the closets in the bedrooms this morning.”
“I don’t need you to be creating projects for me. I had had a lifetime of honey-do lists from Dottie.” His grandfather gave him a hard smile and looked up at the large Victorian.
Johnny recalled his mother’s grumbling about her childhood, always painting a far different picture. Johnny couldn’t reconcile this beautiful home and his friendly grandfather with the dark childhood Mary Claire Rock had described. His mother had been an angry woman.
“I’m not ready to move. Your grandmother and I had so many hopes when we first moved in...” Buddy’s voice trailed off. Not all their hopes had been realized.
“I know.” That was only partially true. Johnny had no idea what it would be like to have roots so deep. Johnny had no idea what it meant to have roots at all. His mother had always kept them on the move. And foster care had added to his sense of instability.
Would any place ever feel like home?
* * *
Later that day at the grand opening of the gift shop, Ashley came up behind Ellie and cupped her shoulders.
Ashley whispered into her ear, “Are you looking for something?”
Ellie sucked in a quick breath, trying not to overreact to her friend’s stealth approach from behind. Doesn’t she realize that that’s the last thing you did to a person who had recently been attacked in this very same location?
At this rate, Ellie was going to be terrified to enter the storage room of her gift shop.
Heart racing in her ears, Ellie glanced down to see a stuffed mushroom with a bite out of it pinched between Ashley’s expensively manicured fingertips. The offending food hovered inches away from the sleeve on Ellie’s new pink dress. A definite splurge for a poor, new business owner.
Ellie pivoted away and forced a smile. She grabbed a towel off the edge of the sink and dried her hands. “Thanks for unpacking these boxes.” She figured that was better than asking her friend why she couldn’t have taken the time to collapse the boxes for recycling. “How much longer did you work this afternoon after I left?”
Ashley frowned and seemed to notice for the first time the boxes discarded in an unorganized heap in the corner.
Ellie noted the shadow darkening the surface of her friend’s eyes; a confused look she had perfected when she either didn’t want to give an answer or when she truly didn’t know the answer.
Ashley popped the stuffed mushroom into her mouth and blinked a few times. “I didn’t unpack those boxes,” she said around a mouthful. She peeked into one of the open boxes. “They’re not empty. Maybe you started to unpack them and forgot in your whirlwind.”
Had she? Ellie fiddled with her bracelet. It didn’t seem likely. She might be frazzled, but forgetful?
“Did you lock the door when you left? Set the alarm?” Ellie knew she shouldn’t have left before Ashley, but her friend had insisted on waiting for Tony and Ellie’d had a hair appointment she hadn’t wanted to be late to.
Ellie tried not to let her mind jump to the worst possible scenario. Was someone searching for something? She was determined to control her rioting emotions. A few guests had already filtered into the shop. She shouldn’t be wasting time in the storage room. She had only run back here to wash her hands.
“Of course, I locked the door.” Ashley shrugged, sweeping her long blond hair over one shoulder and combing her fingers through it much like a person holding a kitten and stroking its fur. Ashley had done this for as long as Ellie could remember: first with a long braid in kindergarten and then with her smooth, flat-ironed locks in high school.
“And the alarm?” Ellie frantically searched her memory. She had been too stressed and distracted when she’d arrived at the shop this evening to remember if she had turned off the alarm or not.
Ashley shrugged again. “Not the alarm.” She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “It was the middle of the day.” One corner of her mouth turned up. “What? You think someone broke in here and messed up a few boxes?”
“I told you what happened last night. Someone—” she lowered her voice into a harsh whisper “—attacked me. Right here.” She jabbed her index finger at the stain of orange paint on the floor. She had left out the part about Johnny’s investigation.
A contrite expression settled on Ashley’s features. “I’ll make sure I set the alarm from now on.” She adjusted the belt on her dress. “But you and I know we were so busy this morning making final preparations that we might have knocked those boxes over. Who knows?” Ashley gently tapped Ellie’s forehead. “Don’t let your overactive imagination get the best of you.”
Ellie rolled her shoulders, trying to ease the tension. “Maybe you’re right.” The haphazard pile of boxes taunted her.
“I came back here to tell you your handsome FBI guy has arrived.”
“Really? Johnny’s here?” She smoothed a hand down the front of her dress and Ashley lifted a knowing eyebrow.
Ellie was already regretting that she had mentioned that Johnny had happened by last night after the attack. Ashley was duly impressed that he was an FBI agent. And her singsong tone when she announced his arrival indicated she’d never let Ellie forget she had once had a schoolgirl crush on him. Ashley had witnessed firsthand how Ellie would linger in the family room when her brother would have his friends over to watch a baseball game on TV. Her skin heated with the memory. Ellie had made such a fool of herself mooning over her brother’s friend.
Ellie opened her mouth to tell her that Johnny wasn’t her handsome FBI guy, but decided protesting at a moment like this would be a tactical error. Protesting would be a huge flag for Ashley to hoist and run with, broadcasting everything Ashley knew about her friend’s crush. Well...before Johnny had turned out to be an undercover narcotics officer.
“Well, aren’t you going to greet him?” The single question was rife with expectation.
“We better get out front and see to all of our guests,” Ellie said, deflecting her friend’s line of questioning. They slowed in the doorway and she whispered, “Looks like a great turnout.”
“Of course. Did you expect any less?” Ashley leaned in close, smelling of garlic and feta and a hint of olive oil. “Now, you better go talk to that yummy man over there or I will.” She leaned in close to Ellie and pointed slyly with a hooked index finger at Johnny who was studying a painting on the wall.
One of her paintings.
Perhaps sensing their eyes on him, he turned and faced her, a wide smile splitting his handsome face. She felt her face flush. Again. She glanced away so as not to be caught staring. Man, Johnny looked sharp in a casual sport coat and collared shirt.
“You sure got it bad,” Ashley said and laughed. All the reasons Ellie was drawn to Ashley were displayed on her friend’s playful expression. Ashley saw the bright side in everything. Nothing got her down. Ashley tapped her friend’s arm and waggled her eyebrows before strolling away to greet some other guests.
Ellie shook off her misgivings about the upended open boxes in the storage room and walked over to greet Johnny.
“The store looks great,” he said. “You got the shelves on the back wall up.”
The shelving unit softened the bold color she had been second-guessing from the minute she had opened the paint can. “Thanks. I’m happy with how it turned out.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “How did you know about the grand opening?”
He studied her, a hint of amusement on his face. “The flyer on the front window.”
“Oh,” she said, suddenly feeling foolish. “Of course.”
Johnny pointed to the painting on the wall that he had been studying. “You’re talented.”
“I was inspired.” Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she dipped her head. She had never learned to take a compliment. On the canvas, she had captured the sun exploding over the horizon, the purple and pink clouds floating over the ocean. Looking at God’s creation even now filled her with awe.
Standing close to Johnny, she noticed that tiny lines etched the corners of his eyes, reflecting the ten years since she had last seen him. She also detected a hint of aloe aftershave and Dove soap and smiled to herself. That’s how he’d smelled back when he used to hang out at her house, sitting around the table with her family.
Almost part of the family. That’s why his accusations had hurt so much.
“Everything okay?” Johnny asked, snapping her out of her reverie.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Are your brother and mom here?” The small shop was crowded.
“Unfortunately my niece Grace is in the talent show at school. I had already advertised the grand opening in the paper, so I couldn’t switch nights.” Ellie shrugged, but couldn’t deny the disappointment that had settled in her gut. Perhaps it was better this way. Her mother thought her efforts were a waste of time and money.
“That’s too bad.”
“Yeah, but I’d hate for Grace to be disappointed.” She rubbed her bare arm, eager to change the subject. “Some opened boxes were knocked over in the back this afternoon. Can’t say for sure if they were like that before I left to get ready for the party.”
“But you don’t think they were?”
Ellie bit her lip. “I’m pretty organized. Ashley, on the other hand...and she was the last to leave.”
“I’ll wander back there and check it out.”
The chimes on the door jangled and a few more guests filled the small space.
“Did you or the police find out anything more about last night?” she whispered.
Johnny shook his head. “Sorry.”
The celebratory mood had deflated as her nerves buzzed at the memory of being attacked yesterday.
“Enough of that.” He gestured with his head toward the food. “Those appetizers look great. Any chance you have those little hot-dog thingies wrapped in crescent rolls?”
Ellie felt a smile pulling at her lips. “No, I must have left those off the menu.”
His forehead crinkled. “Really?”
“No, not really.” She laughed. “I was shooting for a little more upscale.”
Johnny adjusted the flap of his sport coat. “Are you saying I’m not upscale?”
“I enjoy a hot dog as much as the next guy, but tonight is more a scallop-wrapped-in-bacon kinda night.”
“Bacon?” Humor lit Johnny’s brown eyes. “You are definitely my kind of girl.”
Ellie felt like that fourteen-year-old girl with a crush on her brother’s best friend. She was so in trouble.
No, no, no. She was not looking for a relationship. Based on the last one, she was horrible at judging men. She was determined to make a go of it alone. And the easiest solution? No more relationships.
The door bells chimed in the background, saving Ellie from making a fool of herself. She patted Johnny’s arm. “Go find yourself some bacon. I need to greet my guests.”
She felt Johnny’s eyes on her as she walked away. She plastered on a smile and greeted members from her church and the neighborhood. She hoped tonight’s success was an indication of the shop’s future.
A few times over the course of the evening, she found Johnny watching her and she wondered if he was here to protect her or because he thought she was somehow involved with this so-called missing package. Or maybe he just really liked her bacon-wrapped appetizers. Ellie really didn’t want to believe he was suspicious of her, but Johnny had crushed her family when he’d had her brother arrested for dealing drugs. He had insinuated himself into her family’s lives to suit his purposes. Was he getting close to her for reasons all his own?
She shook away the thought. She’d keep her distance. She had no interest in a relationship, genuine or otherwise. But definitely not otherwise.
And she did feel better with him around. He did carry a gun, after all, and someone seemed to have a beef with her.
The bells on the door jangled and the last guest left. Ashley had departed a few minutes earlier, ducking out with her new boyfriend Tony. She had promised to come back early tomorrow morning to help clean up, but Ashley knew Ellie well enough to know she couldn’t lock the door without cleaning up.
Ellie tossed a few empty food trays into the garbage.
Johnny gathered up some cups scattered around the shop.
“Thank you, but you really don’t need to help.”
“I don’t mind.”
Ellie was about to say something then decided to let it rest. Even though a million thoughts ping-ponged around her head, she didn’t need to share them all with Johnny.
A crash sounded from the back of the store and Ellie jumped, splashing the contents of the punch bowl up and over the edge. Her mind flashed to last night: the man slamming her body against the utility sink; his calloused hand against her mouth. She gasped, a cold fear washing over her.
Johnny moved toward her, a concerned look on his face. He held out his hand, indicating she stay put.
Ellie swallowed hard as she watched him disappear into the storage room, her pulse beating erratically in her ears. A few minutes later he returned with a piece of paper. He locked gazes with Ellie.
Her stomach dropped.
“This was stuffed in the hole of a brick.” He pointed with his thumb toward the back door. “There’s a nice dent in the middle of the exterior door where he threw the brick.”
Tiny stars danced in Ellie’s line of vision. “What does it say?” The words rasped out of her dry throat.
She read over his shoulder. In angry black letters, the wrinkled note read, “Stop playing games or you die.”
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.