Yuletide Protector (Love Inspired Suspense) (5 page)

She’d thought about it all day, endlessly. She was a person who loved her job, prided herself on her work. But the number of mistakes she’d made today from sheer distraction over this stupid vase of flowers had her fed up about the entire ridiculous situation. She didn’t want to think about George or these flowers anymore. She wanted it to be three days ago before Kevin had that stupid meeting with George at the salvage yard. When her life was normal and she could happily work on her house and do her job without distraction.

“You’re not making this easy, Daria.”

“It isn’t easy any way you look at it.”

“If you don’t care about your own safety, how can you expect the police to keep you safe? Didn’t you hear anything I told you yesterday?”

“More than you realize.”

She thought she’d said the words under her breath, but the immediate reaction that registered in Kevin’s expression told her otherwise.

“Look, I heard everything you said. And I’ve worked the situation backward and forward and every other way I could. I did it last night and then again at the office. The bottom line is, I can’t leave even if I want to. I need my paycheck to get by. I don’t have any money in savings. At least nothing that will last more than a few days. I have no place to go. No one to go to now that
my parents are in Mexico. I’m stuck here whether you and I like it or not.”

After Kevin left her yesterday, she’d spent the day second-guessing her decision to stay in the house. So much so that her head hurt. But there was nothing she could do. She had no extra money in the bank and only enough room on her credit card to pay for about a week’s stay at a hotel. And not even a good hotel.

She’d used up all her vacation time over the summer working on the house’s plumbing and she wasn’t going to get any more vacation pay until January first—nearly four more weeks until she could arrange vacation leave. Even then, she only had three weeks’ worth of vacation time each year before she’d have to take unpaid time.

She blew out a breath of frustration and felt the tears that she’d held back most of the day push to the surface. Admitting her true situation out loud to Kevin had been harder than she’d imagined. She was stuck and it was her desire to finally own a home of her own that had put her there.

A sudden chill invaded her body. Looking at him squarely, she pushed the car door shut and held up the flowers. “I need to get rid of these. I don’t want them in my house.”

With a little extra effort, Daria walked up the path, her heart pounding in her chest. She’d half thought of keeping these flowers at work, giving them to a coworker. They were beautiful, and it seemed a shame to just throw them out. But every time she’d looked at them, it was like George was right there in the office with her.

She’d found herself on the phone with clients staring at the enormous, colorful bouquet and picturing herself lying on the ground in some dark alley,
bleeding to death. She’d nearly jumped half a mile high when Marla had walked into her office and tapped on her shoulder.

Bringing the flowers home and dumping them into her compost pile seemed like the best solution. If she’d dumped them at work, people would talk. Marla certainly would ask questions. The last thing she needed was for people to start gossiping at work.

“He was in your office, Daria.”

“Yes, he was. But like I said, I didn’t see him. He came and left before I even arrived at work.”

“He left you a card? Is that how you knew these were from him?”

“There was an unsigned card. But I knew it was him. My assistant saw him leaving the building. And anyway, he always bought me bird-of-paradise bouquets.”

Not wanting to discuss it anymore, she walked past him. He followed on her heels to the end of the driveway.

“Look, I’m tired,” she said. “It was a long day.”

Kevin didn’t say anything more, but the questions were there in his expression. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans and stood in the driveway watching her as she walked to the backyard, where she kept her compost pile. Dropping her lunch bag and purse to the pavement, she gripped the vase a little tighter and clumsily stalked across the grass as the heels of her pumps sank into the soft, wet earth.

Building a compost pile out of chicken-wire fencing and stakes had been easy when she’d first moved in and began working on the yard. All her grass clippings and organic kitchen waste, from eggshells to vegetable peelings, would one day turn into rich soil to feed her gardens. All she had to do was till them under and let
them bake in the hot sun. These flowers would turn to good soil, too, once nature had a chance to do its work.

When she reached the compost pile, she lifted the thin, black sheathing she used to cover the pile. With a quick turn of her hands, Daria dumped the contents of the vase into the pile of vegetation already there and replaced the sheathing.

Rubbing the dirt and wetness off her fingertips, she decided she’d till the whole pile over the weekend. It would get a little frustration worked out of her system. In truth, she could use that kind of workout tonight, but her muscles ached and her emotions were shot.

She retrieved her purse and lunch bag from the end of the driveway and stopped when she heard movement deep in the back of the property. Her heart raced, and she turned back to the house, taking in the eerie blackness of it. She never left any of the inside lights on during the day while she wasn’t home. It had never bothered her to walk into a dark house before. But suddenly walking inside seemed unnerving.

She shook her head and chided her foolishness. This was her home. She refused to be afraid of it.

“You may want to think about adding some floodlights with motion detectors to the front and back yard,” Kevin said, still waiting for her in the driveway. “Something with a cage around the light so the neighborhood kids can’t pick it off with a rock. Sometimes that’s all it takes to distract prowlers. Which reminds me, your front-porch light has been smashed.”

“It has?”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m mentioning the cage. You have busy kids in this neighborhood.”

“I’ll say. My bank account is taking a beating
between the graffiti and the broken lights. Thanks for the suggestion. But why do I need floodlights out front if you’re going to be here barking at me every night?”

She waited for him to move. Kevin stood for a moment, staring at her in the darkness. If there was a big yellow moon hanging low in the sky she would be able to see the strong features of Kevin’s face. There was something commanding about the way he looked at her, strong and sure of himself. No woman need fear for herself in his presence.

But there was no yellow moon and now no bright lights from her porch shining down on them. There wasn’t even a lone car with bright headlights driving down her street. And even if she could see Kevin’s face, she had a good idea of the scowl he was wearing.

“How come you don’t use the front door? Even with the light out you’d be able to see with the street lamp.”

“And you’d be able to see me, too.”

“Exactly. I want to make sure you get inside okay. But seriously, the front porch is closer to where you park your car.”

“My front-door lock sticks sometimes. I could spend fifteen minutes just wiggling the key in the dead bolt on a cold night. After the day I’ve had, I really don’t need to wrestle with it.” Rolling her eyes, she added, “But if it would make you feel any better to watch me go into the yard with a little bit of light, Detective, I’ll grab the flashlight from my truck.”

“I’m not going to feel better until I get George Carlisle in jail.”

“Well, I can’t help you there.” She grabbed the flashlight from the glove box and turned it on. “I’m all set. Good night, Detective.”

Kevin nodded, then turned and walked back to his SUV while she headed to the backyard. She felt a brief pang at the thought of him sitting out there in the dark and cold all night, but she pushed it away. If Kevin Gordon wanted to waste his time watching her house and every move she made, that was his business. Daria wasn’t going to feel guilty about it.

As she walked toward the back porch, she stole a glance up at the sky. The weather report she’d heard on the drive home said they’d be getting snow. And Kevin would be sleeping in his car.

Expelling a defeated sigh, she climbed the stairs. Juggling her purse, lunch bag, vase and the flashlight, she couldn’t reach the door handle, so she stuck the flashlight tightly under her arm and yanked at the screen door with her free hand. As she shone the light back on the door to get her key in the lock, she froze.

The glass vase slipped from her fingers and fell to the floorboards, crashing and spraying a million tiny shards around her feet. The beam of the flashlight hung like a spotlight on a stage performer, making the eyes of the large, dead bird hanging from a thin wire from her door knocker glow. One wing of the bird was twisted awkwardly to one side while the other lay flat against its side. Its talons hung limp as if it were hanging from a gallows.

Daria took a wide step back. With each step she felt the fragments of glass crunch beneath her shoes. All her breath rushed out of her lungs with a whoosh. As she clutched her hands to her chest, she was vaguely aware that someone was screaming.

K
evin stalked back to his truck, fuming about stubborn women.
Lord, give me patience with this one.
He’d somewhat come to terms with the willfulness of the opposite sex years ago while growing up in the same house as his sister, but no woman had ever riled him like Daria Carlisle.

As soon as he’d reached the curb, he turned to watch for the inside light to turn on. Spot started barking again, as he’d done when Kevin first arrived, pulling his attention away from the house. The urgency of the bark put Kevin on alarm. That’s when he heard movement coming from the backyard.

Daria’s high-pitched scream pealed through the darkness. Kevin’s blood turned to ice as he ran toward the back porch, his heart pumping wildly, his ears ringing with the sound of her scream.

When he turned the corner at the end of the driveway, he found Daria standing on the back porch, hugging the railing with the empty vase shattered at her feet.

As Kevin raced up the stairs, Daria flew into his arms, trembling. “What happened? Are you all right?”

He couldn’t see her face. Clutching her arms, he
forced her to look up at him and as she did, a small sob escaped her lips.

“I—I opened th-the door,” she sobbed, bending one arm behind her toward the house.

He didn’t need to move any closer. With the light from the flashlight in her hand shining on the door, he could see what looked like a bird hanging in a noose behind the screen door. At first glance, it didn’t look any more dangerous than a stuffed scarecrow hanging on the door in autumn as decoration. But this was no toy.

Daria clung to him, even as he took a wide stride forward to take a closer look at the dead bird. There was no note, no obvious signs of damage to the door. Just what appeared to be a dead crow hanging from a wire.

The hairs on the back of his head stood on end when Spot’s bark became more urgent. Kevin couldn’t see the dog, but heard the dog chain scraping over Mrs. Hildebrand’s concrete-block patio as he tried to pull free. A gust of wind blew strong and the noise in the backyard he’d originally thought was Daria now sounded too close to the house for comfort.

“Get in my truck and lock the door,” Kevin said, staring into the backyard. “And once you’re there, don’t move, do you hear me? You stay there until I get back.”

“Where are you going?”

“I just want to check around the house.”

She hiccupped a sob. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“Go to the truck, Daria. I just need to check around the back and see if whoever did this is still here.”

“Please don’t go,” she whispered.

“You’ll be okay. Just get into my truck and lock the door.”

Although she hesitated, Daria nodded.

She ran down the stairs toward the street. Once she was out of view, Kevin moved in the opposite direction toward the backyard and into the shadows.

The door to Kevin’s truck was unlocked and Daria climbed in quickly, shutting and locking the door behind her. But for some reason, she couldn’t sit still. She felt too vulnerable, too exposed, and she really didn’t want to sit out in the dark all alone. She needed comfort. She needed to feel safe and that could only happen after she went inside her home and locked all her doors.

Slipping back out of the SUV she walked to the front porch. In contrast to the back of the house, the front porch was well lit enough for her to see what she was doing and see anyone around her. She’d have to fight with the front lock again, but she wouldn’t have to deal with being alone in the dark until Kevin came back.

She struggled with her shaking hands to get the key in the lock, then fought to get it to turn. Tears sprang to her eyes, her shoulders sagging. She’d just replaced the lock last week! Obviously she’d done something wrong or the lock would work right. What would she do if she couldn’t get it open, if she was stuck out here on the porch, completely unprotected?

Sniffing, she jiggled the key up and down as she turned the doorknob. Relief washed over her when it finally turned and the door opened.

Once inside, Daria threw on the light switches by the door, illuminating the antique hanging lamp that lit up her stairway and the hall leading to the living room and kitchen. Without pulling off her coat, she moved down the hallway and switched on all the rest of the
lights in the house until every room was lit up like a Christmas tree.

Her insides trembled. Instinctively she hugged her coat tightly around her. But even as she did, Daria knew that wouldn’t make a difference. The cold wind that swept through her had nothing to do with the temperature in the house.

The front door swung open, creaking on its hinges, and she leaped.

“Someone was out there, but he’s long gone now,” Kevin said, to her utter relief. “I thought I told you to stay in my truck. I got worried when I didn’t see you in there.”

“I didn’t want to be alone outside.”

“You should have let me check the house first,” Kevin said gently. “Whoever left the bird could have gotten inside.”

Daria’s eyes widened as her jaw dropped. “Are you purposely trying to scare me?”

“No. Just trying to be cautious.”

“Did you actually see anyone in my backyard?”

“I heard something, but I didn’t see anyone. But usually when someone is bold enough to pull a prank like hanging a dead bird on someone’s door, they wait around for the reaction.”

She laughed without humor. “Well, if someone was watching, they got a good reaction out of me.”

His shoulders sagged. “This whole thing reeks of a prank from street kids.”

“You sound like you’re disappointed.”

“Suspicious. I’m not crazy about the idea of it being common knowledge that you use the back door, in the dark, but that just makes it all the more likely it’s someone from the neighborhood. George was planning
to hire a hit man to take you out—he’d have no reason to do surveillance on you himself. Besides, from the amount of complaints I found that were filed from this neighborhood, these kids have been causing trouble for a while. This could be one more prank.”

Daria straightened her posture. “Say it. You don’t believe it was them.”

Kevin glanced around the room, his face still wearing the scowl she knew he’d had earlier. “I don’t know. I prefer the street-kids explanation, but I don’t want to overlook anything that might lead back to George. Why would your ex leave a bird on your door? And on a day he also sends you flowers?”

“The note on the card that came with the flowers said ‘You’ll always be
my
pretty little bird’ with an emphasis on the word
my.
George always called me his pretty little bird. Now there’s a dead bird on my door.” She shook her head. “This is crazy. George would never touch a dead bird. He’s obsessed with germs. He even donates blood and stores it just in case he needs it for an operation, because he’s afraid of getting someone else’s tainted blood.”

It felt good to talk. Not about George but just to fill the quiet with noise. Kevin seemed oblivious to her need for chatter as he moved around the rooms, searching downstairs. He then stopped in the hallway and dialed a number on his cell phone.

He was being professional and she appreciated that. Kevin was, after all, a police officer. He wasn’t there to make her feel better. Her knee-jerk reaction to run into his arms earlier had been an emotional response.

“Where’s Carlisle?” he growled into his phone. Kevin listened for a few minutes, then talked a little more to
whomever it was he’d called. Daria wasn’t listening. She was glancing around the rooms at all that she’d created, and all she’d envisioned this house could be.

She’d never imagined someone would breach the safety of her home and she hoped there was no evidence that anyone had gotten inside. Anger surged through her, replacing the heart-pounding fear.

After stalking to the front door, Daria tried the knob. It turned easily enough from the inside. She turned the dead bolt with added pressure. It squeaked, but slipped into place. Perhaps all it would take would be a few drops of oil to remedy the problem. She could fix that. Daria could fix lots of things.

“Ski’s had your ex under his nose for the past hour. Whoever was out there, it wasn’t him. That should make you rest easier tonight,” he said as he folded his cell phone and slipped it back into his pocket. There was a deep crease in his brow.

“What kind of kids do something like this?”

“I know you’re upset, and rightly so, but sticking a crow on the door was probably some kind dare for some junior-high-school kid out to have a little fun. Scaring up trouble by scaring you was probably all they were after.”

That should have put her at ease, but it didn’t. She closed her eyes, turning away from Kevin. She wanted to believe it was a street thug trying to spook her. But it seemed rather brazen to think they’d leave her a dead animal like that. But regardless of who was responsible, her response would be the same—nothing. There wasn’t anything she could do.

“What is it?” Kevin asked, his brows furrowing with suspicion.

She’d never felt stuck before, but like it or not, she was stuck here now. The feeling wasn’t very appealing, but it was reality.

“Nothing,” she said, rubbing her hands over her face. “It’s just been a long day and I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

“You and me both. Ski’s coming over with a crew to dust the back porch. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find some fingerprints. If this joker’s been brought in before, he’ll have a file that will help us ID him.”

“Whoever did this wasn’t a boy,” she said, not wanting to admit it. “Boys don’t terrorize people that way.”

He smiled crookedly. Small as it was, it did wonders to put her at ease. She liked it when he smiled. His voice was low and quiet when he spoke. “Daria, I was a boy once. Sometimes the highlight of my day was getting my sister, Judy, and her friends to scream by playing some prank.”

“You?”

Kevin laughed then and for the first time that evening, she felt herself coming back. It was going to be okay.

“Much as I’d love to blame this on your ex as a way to nail him, I can’t. He wasn’t anywhere near your house today and it doesn’t seem likely he’d have been able to convince some kids to do the deed without Ski having seen him talk to them. The clowns who did this are probably down at the park having a good laugh about the whole thing.”

“At my expense,” she said, chuckling nervously. “Is that what you used to do?”

He shrugged. “I was no angel.”

Sighing, she said, “This has just shaken me a bit. I’ve
always suspected that some of the kids who used to party here might not have heard the house was sold, and that they might come back for some mischief.”

“It’s very obvious the house isn’t abandoned anymore.”

She glanced at him, saw the dark shadow that seemed to cross his face and knew he wasn’t going to let the subject go.

“It couldn’t have been George. But I can’t help thinking about the flowers and the note. The flowers George sent me were birds-of-paradise.”

His expression was blank. “And?”

She walked to the counter and leaned against it. She needed the distance, if only for the few extra feet it afforded.

“George proposed to me at a place called the Paradise Inn. At one time, it used to be our restaurant. We would go there for special occasions. They had these silk flowers on every table.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“They were birds-of-paradise. Just like the ones I got today. Today would have been our anniversary.” She cleared her throat and looked down at her cruddy linoleum floor.

Kevin nodded. “That would explain why he chose those flowers then. But sending them on your anniversary…I don’t understand that.”

“If he was still carrying some kind of torch for me, I could see it,” Daria said. “But when I filed for divorce, he made it very clear that everything would be over between us if I walked out that door. He said he couldn’t forgive my ‘betrayal.’”

“Do you think that’s what this is about?”

She snapped her gaze to him as she nervously kicked
a worn patch of linoleum on the floor. “How do you mean?”

Kevin took a small step toward her. “Maybe he’s planned this as revenge?”

She frowned. “I thought he’d already gotten his revenge with the divorce settlement. I was left with next to nothing—I figured that would satisfy him. But when I saw the flowers today, I started to wonder. If this is his way of showing he can still get to me, in spite of you—if this is his way of scaring me, then it’s working.”

She stared at the spot on the floor she’d been worrying. The pressure of tears behind her eyes made them ache. She didn’t want to spend her days picking at the significance of every moment she’d spent with George to see if he had always been this cold, this frightening. When had the man she loved turned into this monster? Was he truly capable of hiring her murderer? Could she really have been that blind?

Daria folded her arms across her chest, breathing deeply while she felt her pulse easing and her heartbeat growing steady.

She waved off the thoughts flooding her mind.

“I thought I was beyond my marriage. Starting over. But I’ve been doubting a lot of things lately. All I know is that the problems with neighborhood kids causing trouble around here didn’t start when I moved in. It’s been going on for years. But I’ve never heard of something like this happening before.”

“Even if this wasn’t your ex-husband’s doing, you’re still not safe here.” Kevin lifted an eyebrow, emotions she couldn’t quite decipher racing across his face. “Have you thought any more about leaving?”

“Did you hear anything I said outside? I don’t have
the money to just pick up and leave. All my money is tied up in this place.”

Shame enveloped her for the predicament she’d put herself in. She should have kept a reserve of money aside the way she had when she’d been saving for the house. That money was long gone now. If she’d had even a portion of it, she could use it to get by at least until her vacation pay kicked in. Admitting how dire her financial situation was to Kevin only made her feel worse.