Toss Up (The Toss Trilogy) (19 page)

“Maybe you should have stayed home, huh? How does it make you feel to know someone was in there poking around? I’ve heard having an intruder in the home makes a person feel violated. Is that true?”

Sally shot him a questioning glance. A good volunteer, but such a pain. “No, it makes me angry.”

What a creepy imagination Mark had. He’d always been a little di
fferent, hard for her to warm up to. He was too friendly, too nosy, popping up at odd times…of course that wasn’t his fault. He worked odd hours, so he couldn’t be on the regular shelter schedule. It was good of him to drop in whenever he could. And he was willing to help with any job that needed doing. She remembered the morning he’d shown up early and startled her. He cleaned the dog runs that day, a job many people tried to avoid. No, even though Mark was a bit of a pain, he was still a valuable volunteer.

He was studying her face. “Well, I only had time to put in an hour this morning. I have to go now. You don’t look too good. If you’re fee
ling nervous, I suppose I could arrange to stay until Kathy gets here.”

“Thanks, but go ahead and go, Mark. I’ll be fine”.

“Are you sure you’ll be all right? You look a little pale.”

“I’m sure. Really.”

“Well, if you need anything, call me.” He finally began to move—out the door, through the entryway, into his car and gone.

At last.
Sally went to the bathroom to check her face. Did she need makeup today? Why had he thought she was pale? She looked fine. Oh, well…
Men. What do they know anyhow?
Shrugging aside that concern, Sally got down to work.

             
She’d been at it about an hour, when Officer Billings walked into the shelter lobby. “The dog didn’t find anything, Mrs. Johnston. No explosives, no vandalism, in fact there’s no indication that anything was disturbed at all. I’d like you to come to the house for a few minutes, to look it over. You might notice some things out of place that we wouldn’t.”

“All right. Give me a minute to tell Kathy I’m stepping out.”

Sally walked into the kennel wing where the plump, grandmotherly volunteer was grooming dogs. “Kathy, I’m going over to my house for a few minutes. Keep an ear tuned to the front lobby, will you?”

Kathy was working a slicker brush over the wiry coat of a large, mixed breed male. She looked up and nodded, a stripping knife held b
etween her teeth.

Sally smiled and turned back to the lobby. Sliding on her coat, she tried to calm the crawly feeling in her stomach. She didn’t want to check the house. It would be too creepy if her things had been moved. But she grabbed her coat and walked with Billings along the edge of the road to her driveway. As they approached the front door, it opened. A slim young man and a long-legged black Lab stood there. “Hi, I’m Mike. There’
s nothing inside to worry about.”

“Thanks. Would she be able to find any notes he left?” asked Sally, gesturing toward the dog.

“I’m sure Sadie knows if he left anything, but she’s not trained to alert to paper, so she’s got no way to tell me.”

Sally liked the way he championed his dog’s abilities, even though she’d been hoping for a different answer.

“We did a room by room sweep,” Mike continued, “and she didn’t alert. So you can be confident there’s no explosives or gun powder residue anywhere around.” He and the dog turned and followed Sally and Billings into the house.

“Does anything look out of place to you?” Billings asked.

Sally looked around carefully as they walked from room to room. “No, it all looks fine.”

“Good,” Billings said. “In that case, I think you’re okay to stay here, once you get those locks changed.”

“Thanks,” said Sally. “Too bad I cancelled the locksmith for this morning and rescheduled him for tomorrow. I didn’t expect you to be so quick, but I surely do appreciate it.” As they left the house, a car pulled up and stopped. Mark Hunter got out. What was he doing back again?

Mark hurried over. “Has something else happened? Are you okay? Is everything all right?” As he came forward, Sadie moved to stand in front of Sally, growling low in her throat at Mark’s approach.

“Sadie, stop that,” said Mike. The dog ignored him and growled again. “Sadie!” Taking the dog with him, Mike returned to the panel van.

Mark watched the retreating dog for a moment,
then returned his attention to Sally. “I came back because I thought of something that might be useful. You remember the morning I came in early, when you were working in the kennel wing?”

Sally nodded. “Yes.”

“Well, when I left that day, I saw a red truck parked in your driveway. I didn’t pay much attention, simply thought it was Dr. Donovan’s and went on home.”

He paused, watching her closely, and Sally felt her cheeks grow warm. Had the time she spent with Jim become a matter for speculation among the volunteers? She saw his small nod of satisfaction as she turned away. Damn Mark and his nosy prying. She drew breath to speak, but he beat her to it.

“But today, I got to thinking that it might have been some other truck. Someone who had no business messing around your house. I didn’t pay enough attention to say for sure it was the doctor’s.”

Yeah, sure you didn’t.
What a Nosy Parker.

Officer Billings pulled out his notepad. “And your name?”

“Mark Hunter.”

Watching the two men, Sally noted the smirk on Mark’s face. She read it as: Oh boy, I’m important—I’m a witness! Pathetic.

“When did you see this truck?” asked Billings.

“Let’s see, it would have been…last week Tuesday, when I came in early to help Sally with the morning chores.”

Sally swallowed a grimace. Mark was making happenstance and nosiness on his part sound like a virtue.

But I was glad he was here.

She should cut him some slack. He probably couldn’t help being a
nnoying. She turned to face the two men. “I have to get back to the shelter. If that’s all…?”

Billings looked up. “Sure. Thanks for taking a look, Mrs. Johnston.”

Dismissed, she walked back along the road to the shelter. Well, that was over. She heaved a relieved sigh. It was getting close to lunchtime.
Half a day gone, half to go.

At her desk in the rear office, Sally got the one highly unpleasant chore that remained out of the way. She picked up the phone and called Jim.

“This is Donovan.”

“Jim, it’s Sally. Officer Billings said the dog cleared the house. He says it’s all right to stay there tonight.” Her stomach flip-flopped around. She paused to steady it.

“How soon will the locks be changed?” Jim asked.

The stomach flipping accelerated into a high frequency vibration that drew her chest inwards. He sounded harsh. For a moment, nervousness morphed into fear. Then anger pushed to the fore. She was an adult
woman and feared no one… well, no one normal, anyhow. Her voice was steady and strong. “The locksmith is scheduled to come first thing tomorrow morning. Will you stay with us tonight?” If he said no, she’d call Diana or rent a room at the inn.

“I’ll pick you up at five.”

He disconnected, and she slumped back in her chair, sighing away the tension. Gratitude didn’t blind her to the realities. Jim was not happy about this. But…she was looking forward to having him there with her. She was hoping they could talk and straighten things out between them. She loved him, and he must still love her—he wasn’t the type to change so abruptly, for no reason. Once they talked, everything would work out.

She felt more at ease than she had in days, and she had some free time. Maggie Douglas had arrived and was manning the front desk. Sally pulled out her notes and got to work on Economics.

Jim fisted the cell phone closed and stared at his whitened knuckles. His emotions were in turmoil—had been ever since Smith had moved in on Sally Saturday night.

He was done with pretending nothing had happened.

Sunday he’d been ready to forgive Sally for it, for anything, especially after seeing her in such pain from the stalker’s damn game. But then she claimed to love him. She said she wanted to marry him—less than forty-eight hours after giving herself to Smith. The conclusion was inescapable. Either she simply wanted to buy his protection with her body, or she thought nothing of her interlude with Smith.

He rose from his desk and shook his head. “Stupid sap.” Neither po
ssibility meshed with his views on marriage. He intended to live by the vows he would one day take and he’d always assumed Sally felt that way too, especially given how long she mourned her husband. He plucked his coat from its hook and jammed his arms into the sleeves, fastening it with abrupt, violent movements of his fingers.

He’d been wrong. She told him she wasn’t in the market for love. Apparently that was true. With him, with Smith, she was simply loo
king for protection… and sex. He yanked the door open and slammed it behind him. Striding down the hallway, he continued to berate himself.

All his fine noble fantasies had been just that—fantasies. He had d
eluded himself into seeing a person, falling in love with a person, who didn’t exist. Sally was strong and smart, but she didn’t want love or forever—and that was a deal-breaker for him. He needed both. The frozen air hit him in the face like the slap of a wake-up call.

It was
his own damn fault. She hadn’t lied to him—until she claimed to love him. Anger began to trickle into the holes her lie had torn in his heart. But that didn’t free him from his word. He wasn’t a liar. He’d promised to protect her, and he would.
Her and Tyler.
He grabbed the icy handle of the truck door, welcoming the burn it gave his palm as he jerked the stiff hinges open and climbed into the cab, tromping the gas pedal so that the engine roared.

Dammit, he’d been such a fool. Could he blame her for trying to take advantage of that? Hell, yes, he did. With a vicious twist of the wheel, he backed the four by four up and kicked up gravel in the lot as he hit the road.

He blamed her, but it could still be simple. If she wanted sex and protection that was fine with him, and it wouldn’t take a wedding band to strike the deal. It just wouldn’t be forever. And when the stalker was caught and gone, he’d find a faithful woman to share his life with. Tromping on the brake as he entered a school zone, he pushed aside a sliver of pain at the thought of leaving Tyler behind. He’d have children of his own to love. Tyler would adjust.

Jim turned the truck onto the road to Samuelson’s place. His eyes narrowed as painful visions of Sally with Smith returned. He’d protect her all right, and as for sex he’d give her enough to remember so that she
wouldn’t think of Smith for weeks. She’d belong to him, like he used to belong to her. It wouldn’t take long to work her out of his system, and then he’d move on. Jim glanced at the clock in the dashboard. He’d told Hector he’d be there by one-thirty, but sooner would feel better. With a tight-lipped smile, he shoved the accelerator to the floor.

Five o’clock. He was on time. Where were Sally and Tyler? As Jim shifted in his seat, the door to the shelter opened and Tyler came barre
ling out. He yanked the truck’s door open and climbed in, scooting over close to Jim, eyes bright and voice eager as he began a recitation of the day’s events. Jim pushed aside pain and anger to listen to the boy.

“Guess what we did today. We read about the Pilgrims and learned a new song that was at the end of the book. Then we had turkey and mashed potatoes for lunch, and pumpkin cookies.” He screwed up his face and stuck out his tongue. “I gave mine to Carlos. And we acted out in a play how the Indians helped the Pilgrims and I was the chief of the Native American tribe so I got to wear the feather thing on my head, and carry a stick and then we had cupcakes and came home. There’s no school tomorrow because the day after tomorrow is Thanksgiving.” His recital of events finished, Tyler beamed at Jim. “Are you going to stay at my house tonight? I liked the sleepover at your loft,” he added politely, “but you don’t have a Wii.”

Jim smiled at the boy, hoping the tearing pain inside him didn’t show. “Yes, I’m going to stay at your house tonight, but your mom and I might need to clean your room before we can play with the Wii.” He would take no chance of Tyler finding a surprise left by the stalker, and—at least there was one thing he knew was true about Sally—she would feel exactly the same way. He stifled a sigh. It was going to be a long night.

The door to the truck opened again and Sally slid in. She turned her face in his general direction and smiled stiffly, but didn’t meet his eyes.
Just as well.

She cleared her throat. “I’d like to run into town and pick up pizza, if you don’t mind. There’s no food in the house.”

With a curt nod, Jim headed the truck toward town. There was no food in the house he’d want to risk eating either—except the canned goods. Pizza sounded better. “Tyler and I were talking about playing Mario after you and I clean his room.” He glanced toward Sally to see if she understood.

She nodded in agreement. “I think that’s an excellent idea. Tyler, we’ll pick up a DVD for you to watch while Dr. Donovan and I clean.”