The Black Sheep's Redemption (7 page)

The dark interior made her shiver. But she knew exactly which book she wanted.

The Bible.

Fiona had a whole shelf of Bibles in every translation available. As Demi made her way through the store, she thought she saw a flash of light toward the back. She frowned and couldn’t help the tremor of fear that shot through her.

It surprised her so much, she nearly stumbled. The darkness pressed in on her, suffocating her. Another flash of light near the window, then nothing.

More darkness. She couldn’t handle the darkness. Her breathing quickened as she shoved down the fear that came from nowhere.

Why am I so afraid?

Gasping, she flew to the wall that held the light switch and flipped it.

Nothing happened.

She flipped it again. Down, then up.

Her stomach quivered and the images flared up again. The heavy fist, a flash of agonizing pain in her head. Angry words.

“Stop.” She flinched at the harsh word then realized it had come from her. “Stop,” she whispered.

The images faded, but the lights still didn’t work.

Why not? They worked fine in her apartment.

A sliding scrape to her right froze her, heart pounding, blood rushing.

Was someone in the store?

After all that had happened since she’d arrived in Fitzgerald Bay, every nerve jumped into hyperawareness. Was that someone breathing? Should she call out? Warn the person she was there?

No, she had a feeling the person knew she was there. And she was right where he wanted her.

EIGHT

C
harles tucked the twins into bed and kissed them each good-night at least five times. He was exhausted. Thank goodness he’d had his family helping him today or he wouldn’t have been able to function.

As much as he loved his children, they wore him out. Being a single father had not been the plan. But that’s the way things had worked out and while he wished his marriage hadn’t ended the way it had, he was grateful for the two beautiful children that had come from it.

He walked to the window and looked out. A police cruiser sat in plain view. Charles felt his jaw tighten. While thankful for the extra pair of eyes, he was frustrated at the necessity for it.

His right hand reached up to touch the weapon in the shoulder holster. It felt right. Comforting. Even as the need for it brought to mind the memories of his time in Iraq. A time he’d rather forget.

Now Olivia’s death, the spray paint on his garage, the incident at church had him jumping at shadows and looking over his shoulder. Just like back in Iraq, he was now in a constant adrenaline rush.

He closed his eyes and did his best to concentrate on the good in his life.

As a result, he found himself looking forward to work tomorrow for the first time since Olivia’s death and felt certain that had something to do with the fact that Demi’s faith in him was salve to his wounded soul.

In addition to that, he hoped that with Demi’s agreeing to be the children’s nanny, people would stop looking at him like he was monster.

Last week at the office had been a little better.

Maybe this week he would continue to see an improvement.

Since Olivia’s death, it had been only the sickest who’d been willing to see him. And some long-time patients who didn’t believe the drivel they’d seen on the television and read in the newspaper. But those were few and far between. Especially with Burke spouting his nonsense.

Back on the positive side, he couldn’t help the little leap his heart gave at the thought that he would see Demi in the morning for a brief time before he had to take off. Maybe they would even have a chance to share a cup of coffee together. He settled into the recliner to watch the end of the movie he’d DVR’d the night before.

Just as he picked up the remote, his phone buzzed.

He frowned when he saw the number was Owen’s. Punching the talk button, he said, “Hello?”

“Just got a call from someone who said they thought they saw someone sneaking around Fiona’s store. Do you know where she is?”

Charles’s feet slammed to the floor. “No, did you try Hunter? Who made the call?”

“I don’t know. Said they saw what looked like a flashlight bouncing around inside and thought it might be a prowler. And yes, I tried Hunter. He’s not answering his phone and neither is Fiona.”

“I’ll meet you there.” All of a sudden his fatigue was gone, replaced by racing adrenaline. Demi lived above that store. What if she went down there and ran into an intruder?

“No need, it might be nothing and I’ll keep you updated.”

“Mrs. Mulrooney can be here in five minutes. I’ll be at the store in little more than ten.”

He hung up and dialed his father’s housekeeper. Charles explained his dilemma and she promised to come right over.

As soon as she stepped in the door, he said a hasty thanks and ran to his truck.

* * *

Demi clutched the phone as she waited in the dark, ears straining. She listened for the slightest sound, praying help would arrive soon. But how could it? The phone was dead.

She prayed that she was wrong, that she was just hearing things. That she was safe and no one was in the store with her.

A footstep to her right made her jerk.

Her heart tripled its erratic beat and she held her breath. She wasn’t just hearing things. Just like she hadn’t imagined the message in her coffee grounds.

She was on her own with no way to call for help. Her eyes darted in the dark, doing her best to ignore the desire to give in to the panic clawing at her.

In her mind’s eye, she visualized the layout of the store. She was behind the counter where the phone was. To her left were the numerous bookcases, shelves filled with volumes.

A sitting area just beyond that.

Another footstep, closer this time, made her heart leap again.

Why wouldn’t he say anything? What was he doing? Why did he want to frighten her?

“Who’s there?” she called, her voice high, squeaky and scared. “What do you want?”

Now she heard his breathing, just beyond the counter. Why wouldn’t he say something?

She had to move. Stay out of his reach until she could get out of the store. Right now, he stood between her and the door. If she tried to get back to the stairs leading to her apartment, she would be trapped by the locked door on one side and the intruder on the other.

Placing the phone on the floor, she took two steps to her left, gripped the edge of the counter and slipped around the side.

She caught motion to her right. The moon’s light filtered through the blinds and now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she could pick out shapes and shadows.

Which meant the intruder probably could, too.

Demi moved again. The shadow moved with her.

She ducked behind a bookcase and heard two more footsteps.

How was she going to get help?

Click.

What was that?

She didn’t have time to dwell on that question as she could hear him coming closer.

Silently, she sidestepped around another bookcase, bumped her shin on a small table and sent it crashing to the floor.

It sounded like a sonic boom in the utter stillness of the store.

Breath hitching, Demi moved around the table to seek refuge behind another shelf.

She thought she heard a curse, muttering.

Then bright light filled the store through one of the windows and she saw the man standing next to one of the cushioned chairs. He froze like a deer caught in the headlights.

But she couldn’t see his face.

He had his hoodie pulled up and she could only make out his profile.

Then he spun on his heel and headed for the back door of the store. Relief pounded through her. Anger followed swiftly behind. She was so tired of being a victim.

Should she try to stop him?

Her eyes darted, wondering how she could do it without getting hurt. By the time she decided she couldn’t, he was gone anyway, out the back. The same way he’d probably come in.

But how had he gotten through a locked door?

* * *

Charles followed Owen as far as his brother would allow. “Stay here until I give the all clear, you understand?”

“Yeah, yeah, go.”

Charles watched Owen place a hand on his weapon as he approached the front door to The Reading Nook. Everything in him itched to head in after Owen. Fighting in Iraq had prepared him to be in the thick of things. He’d willingly taken a backseat to the investigation into Olivia’s death, letting his brothers do the job they’d been trained to do, but not knowing if Demi was all right was killing him.

He crept closer, watching as Owen drew his gun and stepped inside. A cold sweat broke over Charles as flashes from his days in the military, going house to house, searching for the wounded in the midst of the rebels and terrorists popped through his mind. Not knowing if you were going to be offered a drink or a bullet had kept his nerves on edge, his senses honed.

This was how he felt now. Would Demi be all right? Or not? Following a hunch, Charles did a one-eighty on his good leg and hoofed it around the side of the building.

Just in time to see a figure bolt through the back door of Fiona’s bookstore.

“Hey! Stop!”

The person never paused, just kept pounding the pavement until he disappeared within seconds around the side of the building. Owen burst from the store, racing after the fleeing man.

Charles gave the brief thought to joining the chase, but knew with his injured leg, he didn’t have a chance. Humiliation swept over him, but he managed to push it aside. Just because he didn’t run as well as he used to, didn’t make him less of a man. Besides, he needed to check on Demi. Her well-being was more important than chasing the man down.

Taking note in the direction the intruder fled, Charles turned back to the store and pulled open the door.

Stepping inside, he called out, “Demi?”

“In here.”

Charles made his way through the darkened store toward Demi’s voice. It sounded like it came from the small café area.

The lights came on and he blinked at the sudden brightness. “Whoa.”

As his eyes focused, he took in Demi’s frightened features. But she’d managed to find the fuse box and get the lights back on in spite of her fear. He went to her side and took her hands, feeling them tremble. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, eyes wide. “Someone was in here.”

“I know,” Charles said. “I saw him run out the back door and down the alley. Owen went after him. What happened?”

Pulling her hands from his grasp, she crossed her arms in front of her and rubbed them like she was cold. “I came down to get a book and heard something. The lights were out and didn’t work. Then I heard…something. And he was there. Being quiet and watching… .” She shivered and swallowed hard. Charles felt his heart clench at her distress.

The back door slammed and they both jumped. Charles’s hand went to his weapon, his pulse spiking.

Owen called out, “It’s just me.” When Owen joined them in the kitchen, he shook his head in disgust and said, “I lost him.”

Charles asked, “Do you think this has anything to do with the message left in the church?”

“I don’t know.” Owen narrowed his eyes. “You and I haven’t really talked much about that. You think it was meant for you?”

“And I think it was meant for me,” Demi said before Charles had a chance to answer.

“Why would you think that?” Owen looked confused.

Demi bit her lip then motioned for them to follow her.

Charles frowned as she and Owen walked up the steps to her apartment. She opened the door.

“You didn’t lock the door?” Charles asked.

She paused then looked over her shoulder. “I didn’t think I needed to. I was just going down to get a book and then come right back up. I thought the back door was secured and…” Demi fiddled with her keys. “I should have locked it, huh?”

“Yeah.” Charles nodded.

He drew his weapon, glad he’d decided to start carrying it again. At Owen’s sharp look, he shrugged. He had an up-to-date concealed weapons permit. Might as well exercise caution.

Owen nodded and took the lead, Charles providing backup. Demi stepped aside, her fear in full expression on her beautiful pale face. Behind her glasses, her eyes looked huge.

A quick sweep of the small apartment revealed nothing. “Clear,” he said.

“Clear,” Owen echoed.

Demi’s quiet voice cut into the relieved silence. “Do you mind if I show you what I found yesterday morning? I think it’ll explain why I think that message at church was for me.”

“Sure.”

Both men holstered their weapons.

Demi walked into the kitchen, opened the cabinet and pulled a coffee canister from the cupboard. She took off the lid and held the can out for the men to peer into.

Charles read the message on the piece of paper and felt his heart pick up speed.

Owen lifted a brow and looked at the two of them. “You found this yesterday?”

“And you didn’t say anything?” Charles demanded. The words exploded from him. He couldn’t help it.

She flinched and stepped back and Charles felt immediate remorse. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. But you really should have told someone about this.”

“I meant to, I just…didn’t. I wanted to think about it and try to figure out why someone would put that there. But all I get is a massive headache when I try to reason through it.” She swallowed and met his eyes. “And I was afraid you’d blame yourself.” Her eyes slid away. “And that you’d ask me to leave.” She shrugged. “I didn’t want to leave.”

“Ah, Demi… .” Charles sighed, guilt exploding through him. She’d been right about that anyway. He did blame himself for putting her in this situation.

Owen shook his head. “Have you touched this?”

“No.” She grimaced. “I just slapped the top back on and determined to put it out of my mind for the day.”

Owen asked, “Do you have a paper bag I can put this in?”

“I have a plastic grocery bag.”

“It’ll have to do.”

Demi got the bag and held it open.

Charles reached for the salad tongs sitting in the container on the counter, pulled out the note and dropped it in. He looked at Owen. “You really think you can get anything off of that?”

“Thanks to new technology, fingerprints are easier than ever to lift. Matching them up is sometimes the problem. But we’ll give it a shot.” He looked at the can. “Let’s throw that in, too. Has anyone besides you touched it?”