Love Inspired Suspense July 2015 #1 (50 page)

No matter how much time passed, he would never erase the image. Or stem the anger that surged through him every time he remembered.

He wanted Meagan to trust him, not fear him. And he had made progress. But tonight, he had blown it. He had lost control.

And Meagan had watched.

* * *

A bell jangled, and Meagan turned from stocking a shelf in time to see two familiar figures enter the store. Darci's mother was an older version of Darci, with the same deep brown hair and vibrant blue eyes. She currently held the hand of her grandson, Jayden.

Darci hurried around the counter and swept the towheaded child into her arms. “Hi, sweetie. How's my boy? Did you miss Mommy?”

Instead of responding, Jayden's attention remained on the object he held, a toy cell phone. Now that both hands were free, his thumbs worked over the screen, creating a series of beeps.

He stiffened his body, a cue that he wanted down, and she placed him on the floor.

“Let me grab my purse, and I'll be ready.” For once, Darci was subdued, lines of concern marring her features.

When she reached the door, her mom gave her a hug. “It's going to be okay. Whatever happens, God will give us the strength to handle it.”

As Meagan watched them step outside, a wave of homesickness washed through her, an intense longing to see her own mother again. Three months had passed since she had last heard her voice, and much longer since she had talked freely. Throughout the year before she'd had to disappear, she'd been guarded, infusing her tone with false cheer, saying everything was fine when it wasn't. Otherwise, her mother would have charged right over, at the risk of all of their lives, demanding to know what Edmund was doing to make her girl unhappy. Her mom had always been her protector, champion and best friend.

But Meagan didn't begrudge Darci this time with her mom, especially this afternoon. Jayden was two and hadn't yet started to talk. Darci claimed she had talked late, too, and had been making up for it ever since. But coupling that with some other signs, she couldn't deny it any longer. Something was wrong.

So this afternoon, the three of them were headed to Gainesville to see a child psychologist. Hopefully, the diagnosis would be good—a little delayed development that would work itself out in time. Although no one had mentioned the word
autism
, Meagan had been thinking it and was pretty sure Darci was, too.

With a sigh, Meagan returned to arranging the figurines she had unboxed before Darci's mother came in. Just as she finished, the bell on the front door sounded. Tension spiked through her. She drew in a calming breath and tried to slow her racing pulse. She worked in a gift shop. She couldn't recoil in fear every time a customer walked in.

This time it wasn't a customer. It was Hunter, in uniform, with a gun at his hip. The sight was comforting. But he wasn't the only one looking out for her. A killer was loose on the island. And for whatever reason, she was the target. So Cedar Key had enlisted the aid of Levy County. A plainclothes detective was currently watching her house, with another keeping an eye on the store. A third was inside, inconspicuous but ever vigilant. Hunter was making regular stops, as were the other officers. Whoever was after her would be hard-pressed to get anywhere near her.

Unless it was Edmund.

She climbed onto the bar stool behind the counter and gave Hunter an uneasy smile.

He returned it, his no more comfortable than hers. Things had been strained between them since the incident with the kid in the Camaro. As she had gotten to know Hunter over the past month, he had impressed her more than she wanted to admit. He was kind, gentle, caring—a true public servant. Without even realizing it, she had begun to look on him as a hero, a knight in shining armor.

Two nights ago, that image had been shattered. He was just a man, the same as the others she had known. Sweet and charming, but capable of abuse if provoked. She had wanted to believe he was somehow different, which had been stupid. She didn't believe in fairy tales, hadn't even as a kid. Why start now?

Hunter rested a forearm against the counter. “Everything okay?”

“Everything's fine. Darci left a few minutes ago.”

“So you're by yourself.”

“As by myself as I can be with half of Cedar Key and Levy County watching me.” And others in an unofficial capacity, like Hunter's friend Blake.

“Right now, all those extra eyes are good.” There was a seriousness in his tone that was reflected in his gaze.

“Believe me, I'm not complaining.”

She reached for a spiral notebook she had placed on the counter earlier. When she met Hunter's eyes again, the seriousness was still there. He had something else to say.

“The lab results came back on the brownies.”

“And?”

“Cyanide.”

She swallowed hard. She had expected the tests to show some kind of poison, but hearing it confirmed filled her gut with lead.

“Is that even available?”

“Not for the average person. Not in the US, anyway.”

She shook her head. “I came so close to eating them. I would have if you hadn't stopped me.” Her gaze locked with his, and the last of the stiffness between them dissolved. “You saved my life.”

He lifted his hand, then, halfway to her face, let it fall. “It's all in a day's work.” His mouth curled up, the smile at odds with the seriousness still lingering in his eyes.

And it was that seriousness, and the sincerity behind it, that was wreaking havoc with her defenses. She flipped open the notebook, thankful for a ready distraction. Here she was, three months out of a yearlong nightmare, and ready to head down the same dangerous path. She straightened her spine, determined to hold on to her resolve. Hopefully, her brain had the sense to never again let her fall for another man's charm, even if her heart didn't.

She dropped her eyes to the page. “I figured while Darci was gone, I'd do some creative work. I'm designing brochures for the store. I thought if we put them in some of the other establishments around town, it might help to drum up business.”

Hunter nodded. “Good idea. You know, Darci's glad she hired you.”

“I hope so.” Because most of the time Meagan felt as if she really wasn't needed.

But not according to her boss. Even though she had never hired staff in the past, Darci claimed she wanted a part-time assistant so she could spend more time with Jayden.

Meagan knew better. It was an excuse, a way to offer much-needed help without making her feel like a charity case. If anyone deserved a break, it was Darci. She spent her whole life doing for others. If the God she served was as loving as she claimed, He'd fix this problem with Jayden.

Hunter tapped the counter. “I guess I'll leave you to it. I'll be back at six to take you home.”

Meagan watched him walk out the front and get into his patrol car. For several moments after he drove away, she stared at the vacated parking space. If she had to have a cop in her business, why did it have to be someone like Hunter, whose sweetness and charm and good looks sent a constant barrage of cannonballs flying at her defenses? Why couldn't it be someone old and married?

She propped her elbows on the counter and rested her chin in her hands. The noonday sun streamed in the front door and plate-glass window, falling across the painting she had displayed there. Completed last weekend, it rested on an easel next to the door, a pelican on a dock set against a blazing sunset, palm fronds hanging in the foreground. Like all her paintings now, it was signed M. Berry
.

Her artwork provided a nice secondary income, helping supplement her part-time job at Darci's. Or maybe her job at Darci's supplemented her painting. Either way, she needed both to survive.

Throughout the afternoon, only a handful of customers came into the store, giving her large blocks of time to work on the brochure. As promised, Hunter arrived a few minutes before six to take her home. While she closed up and bade the detective farewell, Hunter waited at the door. No longer on duty, he was dressed in jeans and a button-up shirt. The bottom tip of a holster peeked out from below the hem.

Moments later he slid into the truck across from her. “Have you talked to Darci yet?”

“Not yet.” Meagan entwined her fingers in her lap and fought against the urge to squirm. “I will, though. I just haven't found a good time.”

“We talked about this a week ago.” He pulled away from the curb and began moving down Second Street. “Darci needs to know, but I think you should be the one to tell her.”

“I know. And I will.” Sometime. Once she got up the courage. She was just putting it off, hanging on to her job as long as possible. Because once Darci knew she had lied to her, she would likely lose that job.

Hunter slowed to make the left onto Fifth Street and glanced over at her. “Do you trust her?”

“Yes, I trust her. But that's not the point. I lied to her. She would have every reason to fire me.”

“I know Darci really well. And I think I'm pretty safe in assuming that she'll stick by you. But she needs to know.” He eased to a stop in the driveway and turned off the ignition. “If you don't tell her, I will.”

Meagan crossed her arms and glared at him. “I said I'll tell her. You don't have to threaten me.”

Without waiting for a response, she stepped from the truck and slammed the door. Wearing a badge didn't give Hunter the right to order her around. Of course, he probably claimed that right because of his status as a man.

Like every man she had ever known. At least those she'd been closest to. First came the charm. Then the control. Then the rage when other people, and life in general, didn't fall into place. It was one of the first things she had learned as a child, almost before learning to walk, a lesson that was pounded into her anew each time her dad had left her mother bruised and bloody.

Meagan strode toward the house and climbed the porch steps. The detective was somewhere nearby, watching them. But he was easy to ignore. Right now, she just wanted to get away from Hunter's prying gaze, into the privacy of her home.

She pulled the key from her purse. Hunter was beside her before she could unlock the door.

“Look, Meagan, I'm not trying to threaten you.”

“Do this or else—that's a threat, any way you look at it.” She jammed the key into the lock.

“I didn't mean it as a threat. I'm just giving you a nudge.”

Yeah, a nudge. A sharp jab with a cattle prod to produce the desired result. She had lots of experience with nudges. They could be quite painful.

She turned to face Hunter. She had seen him lose it. He had dragged the kid halfway through the window before he got control of himself. Was he capable of the same brutality as her father and Edmund? Maybe, maybe not. She wasn't going to get close enough to find out.

She heaved a sigh. “I'll talk to Darci when she comes in tomorrow.”

As she turned toward the door, a series of sounds stopped her cold—an almost imperceptible whoosh, following by a
thwing
and a grunt, all in a fraction of a second. She spun around. Hunter stood clutching his upper arm as blood oozed between his fingers. Next to him, an arrow was frozen in space, its tip buried in the wood siding.

Her mind shut down. Hunter was saying something, but she couldn't make sense of the words. Somewhere deep in her subconscious, she knew she needed to move. But she was rooted to the spot.

Hunter reached around her to open the door, then pushed her inside. He stumbled in after her and closed and locked the door.

“Meagan. Don't lose it on me, baby.” He grasped her shoulder with his free hand and gave her a little shake. He was still using the other to staunch the flow of blood.

“Edmund.”
It was the only word that would form.

Hunter released her to reach for his cell phone. “Edmund? You think Edmund did this?”

She nodded. Her brain was slowly kicking back into gear. “Edmund's biggest hobby is archery.”

Sirens screamed in the distance, pulling her the rest of the way back. Hunter was trying to hold the phone in his free hand and dial with his thumb, but his fingers didn't seem to be working right. Her gaze shifted to his shoulder. Blood had soaked through the sleeve and traced multiple paths down his arm. And she had stood there like an imbecile.

She took the phone from him. Maybe the sirens were for them, but maybe they weren't. “Let me.”

After placing the 911 call, she led him to the kitchen and eased him into a chair. The color had leached from his face, and beads of sweat dotted his brow.

“How bad do you think it is?”

He shifted his position and grimaced. “Not as bad as it could have been. But judging from the amount of blood, I'm afraid it tore through a good bit of muscle.”

The sirens drew closer. The detective watching the house had apparently called for backup. The fire guys should be right on their tail.

“You stay seated.”

She left Hunter to jog to the door. Two law enforcement vehicles came to a stop at the curb, one Cedar Key Police, the other Levy County Sheriff. Another sheriff vehicle was stopped down the street. Maybe Edmund was inside. Not likely. He was too cunning to get caught.

The Cedar Key Fire rescue truck stopped behind the other vehicles, and Wade and Joe jumped out. She waved them inside. “Hunter was hit. He's in the kitchen.”

Two law enforcement officers met her on the porch—Gary and Deputy Baker, according to his nameplate. Baker proceeded to examine the arrow, and Gary followed her inside, where she offered him a seat on the couch. She took the recliner. The activity was helping her keep the panic at bay. She would give her statement while Wade and Joe temporarily patched up Hunter and got him ready to transport. She could fall apart later, once everyone was gone and Hunter was on his way to the hospital.