Dream of You, Page 5

  “Yeah, that’s you,” he continued. “You saw something last night that we need to chat about.”

  Talking was the last thing we needed to do. My heart pounded in my chest as I faced him. Why did the parking lot seem so empty now? It wasn’t. People were milling around, but no one was paying attention to us. My gaze darted to the entry of the grocery store, trying to determine the distance if I had to make a run for it.

  I wasn’t much of a runner.

  He took a step forward, and I blanched, lifting the heavy bag, prepared to swing if he got any closer. He raised his hands. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Famous last words. “Don’t come any closer to me.”

  “I’m not. We can have our little conversation from a distance if that makes you happy.” He smiled again, but it was chilling. “All I need you to understand, and I need you to really get this, is that you’re not going to be able to identify anyone from last night.”

  An icy knot balled in my stomach.

  “That’s all, and that’s not a big deal, is it? Just keep your mouth shut from here on out and nothing bad will happen. And you don’t want anything bad to happen, do you?”

  I was beyond responding, my heart thumping heavily in my chest. That was a threat, a very thinly veiled threat. Part of me couldn’t believe this was happening.

  “We want to make sure you keep your mouth shut,” he said in the same friendly, conversational tone. “And I think you’ll understand fairly quickly how serious we are.”

  Just then, the passenger window rolled down and all I saw was an arm extend out. A hand popped the side of the van, causing my heart to jump. The man backed up then, clapping his hands together as he said, “Now you have a nice evening.”

  I didn’t move as he walked back to the van and climbed in. I didn’t move when the old thing hunkered to life or when it pulled straight through the empty spot in front of it, turning left to head out of the parking lot.

  “Oh my God,” I whispered.

  In a daze, I shoved my groceries into the trunk of my car with jerky, quick motions, and then I climbed in behind the wheel. I didn’t even think for one second about what to do next. There was no way I was not going to call the police. Forget that. Before I left for dinner, I had shoved Colton’s card in my purse. My mind raced. It made sense to call him because he knew what was going on. Calling 911 meant I’d have to tell them everything all over again.

  As I pulled my cellphone out of my purse with a shaky hand, its unexpected shrill ring startled a tiny shriek out of me. Jesus. I looked down at the screen. It was a local number I didn’t recognize. Normally I wouldn’t answer, but for some unknown reason, this time I did.

  I placed it to my ear and croaked out, “Hello?”

  “Abby?”

  My free hand landed on the steering wheel. I recognized the voice immediately. “Colton? I—”

  “Thank fucking God you answered,” he said, cutting me off. “Where are you?”

  I blinked slowly, completely thrown off. “I’m…I’m sitting in the parking lot of the grocery store near…near Mona’s.”

  “I want you to listen to me, okay?” There was the sound of a car door slamming and an engine keying on. “I want you to go inside and stay there, okay. Do not go home.”

  Chapter 6

  I had kind of done what Colton had demanded. I’d gone into the grocery store and waited near their pharmacy, and when I spotted Reece, his younger brother, prowling through the sliding doors, I knew something really bad had happened.

  Reece, a deputy with the county sheriff’s office, had been in his uniform. I saw Reece around town a lot and knew he was seriously dating one of the bartenders over at Mona’s, a girl we’d gone to school with, but for him to be the one to show up sent a chill over me.

  “Something has happened at your house,” he’d said, and that was all he would tell me.

  He was supposed to wait with me until Colton could get from the city, but I wasn’t having that. How could he just say something had happened at my house and then just expect me to stand around and wait? That was my home. After much arguing and more than a handful of concerned looks shot in our direction, Reece agreed—or relented—to escort me home.

  Stars had started to dot the sky as we walked outside, all the while Reece muttering, “Colton’s going to kick my ass.”

  One look at Reece told me that would be easier said than done. Yeah, Colton had an inch or two on him when it came to height, but Reece could hold his own.

  In his county cruiser, he’d led me the short distance to my house. My hands had ached the entire drive and the moment I pulled into my parking space, I’d wanted to cry.

  I hadn’t.

  Not when I’d climbed out of the car and saw the two officers standing by my open front door. I hadn’t cried when I saw the shattered front window. And right now, as I stepped around Reece and went inside, I couldn’t let the weight of everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours get to me.

  The TV, which sat near the window, was knocked over, shattered on the floor. Lying next to it was a huge cement block. I had no idea how someone could throw that thing through a window.

  “Nothing else appears damaged,” Reece said when I looked over at him. His hands rested against his duty belt. “But we’re going to need you to look around to make sure nothing has been stolen.”

  Drawing in a shaky breath, I nodded as I tried to process what I was seeing. There was no way this wasn’t related to what happened last night or the swarmy guy outside of the grocery store, but I still had a hard time believing it. Not because I was ignoring the evidence right in front of my face.

  “Both the neighbors on either side of your townhouse weren’t home,” Reece explained. “No one else heard anything. When your neighbor on the right came home and saw it, she immediately called the police.”

  I needed to thank Betty, the elderly woman he must’ve been referencing. Coming home to this, on top of everything else, would’ve been horrifying.

  “Are you okay, Abby?” Reece asked, stepping closer. “I know it can be hard to deal with the fact someone has done something like this to your house.”

  “I imagine you see this a lot, huh?” I worked my fingers together, hoping to ease the blood flow back in them as another officer scooped up the heavy cement brick with gloved hands. Something occurred to me right then. “How did Colton know about this?” This was so not his jurisdiction.

  Reece watched the other officer carry the block out of the house. “He mentioned what happened last night when I saw him this afternoon—he mentioned you.” A half grin appeared, nearly identical to Colton’s. “Which is odd because he normally doesn’t talk about witnesses or the fact that he shared crepes with one this morning.”

  My hands stilled and my eyes widened.

  “I was the second officer to respond,” Reece continued, the smile slipping away. “Once the neighbor next door said your name, I called Colton.”

  Was that allowed? I didn’t know. Suddenly bone weary, I walked over to the chair and sat down, exhaling heavily. Over the years, since Kevin’s death, I had learned how to deal with things. Last night, I had let myself have that little breakdown. It was understandable. I’d been a witness to a murder. If you were going to flip out about something, that was high up on the list of things to freak out over. But I needed to get it together now. I wasn’t a shrinking violet, nor was I someone prone to hysterics.

  The responding officer came in and I answered all his questions. When had I left the house? Where had I been? When I told them about stopping at the grocery store and the subsequent creeper dude in the creeper van, Reece snapped to attention.

  “Why didn’t you say something at the store?” he demanded, his eyes sharpening as he reached for his phone in his pocket.

  “Um, I was kind of distracted by the dire message of not going home,” I said. “But I’m telling you now.”

  Reece opened his mouth but seemed to rethink wh
at he was saying. “I’ll be right back.” Stepping outside, I saw him lift his phone.

  I wasn’t sure how much time passed before I got up and accomplished what Reece had suggested. I checked everywhere, concentrating on my office and my bedroom. Nothing of any value was missing, which is what I told Reece when he appeared in my room.

  I knew what the brick through the window was.

  A message.

  As I stood in front of my untouched jewelry box, I shuddered. Message was received, but that didn’t mean I was going to listen. I’d already told the one officer and Reece, and I would tell Colton.

  “Abby?” a deep voice boomed from downstairs. “Reece?”

  I turned at the sound of Colton’s voice and Reece’s answering, “We’re up here.”

  A handful of seconds later, Colton appeared in the doorway. He had changed since this morning, wearing a different police-issued polo. His blue eyes were fastened on me as he stepped into the bedroom.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “She’s okay,” Reece answered, and then rolled his eyes when Colton shot him a look.

  “I’m fine,” I insisted, smoothing my hands along my skirt. “I’m just shook up.”

  Colton crossed the room and within a heartbeat, he was standing right in front of me. One hand curled around the back of my neck in a familiar, comforting gesture. The other landed on my shoulder. Our eyes locked, and my lips parted.

  “The man at the store, he didn’t harm you or anything?” he demanded, his gaze intently searching mine.

  “No,” I whispered, swallowing hard. “He just told me that I…I needed to keep my mouth shut. That I better not identify anyone from last night. And then he said that I’d understand quickly how serious the message is.”

  A muscle flexed along Colton’s jaw as his gaze swept over my face. “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “I was going to. I was picking up my phone to call you, but you called me first. I was so caught off guard by what was happening here that I focused on that,” I explained.

  His hand tightened along the nape of my neck. It wasn’t a constrictive or threatening move. It was one that was oddly tender. Intimate. Way beyond what he had to do, as a member of law enforcement, to comfort me.

  The moment, whatever was going on between us, stretched out. There was something there, a jolt. Like touching a live wire. He sucked in an audible breath. His fingers spread along my shoulder, and the sudden urge to obliterate the tiny distance between us, to press my body against his, rode me hard. Without thinking, I stepped forward.

  Reece cleared his throat.

  Flushing, I looked away from the unnerving intensity in Colton’s gaze. A shiver chased after his hand as it slipped off the back of my neck and dropped to his side.

  “I need you to tell me exactly what happened at the store,” Colton said after a moment, his voice rougher than normal.

  I did exactly that.

  It was odd to have both Colton and Reece in my bedroom. Their presence made it feel much smaller than it was. Any other time I would’ve been amused by having two extraordinarily attractive brothers who were also cops standing in front of me, but I was too thrown by everything.

  The murder last night.

  Colton showing up this morning with crepes.

  Creepy van dude.

  Vandalized property.

  And now the way Colton behaved when he showed up and that…that spark? My skin was still tingling.

  All within twenty-four hours. It was insane. My life was normally boring.

  By the time I answered all of Colton’s questions, it was just us in the house. Reece had left not too long after the other officer to answer another call, and it was close to ten.

  Colton had gone downstairs to make a few calls and I was slow to follow him. A warm breeze stirred the curtains in front of the broken window and may gaze drifted to the floor. The glass was gone. The TV was also righted, its broken face a sad sight.

  Stepping off the stairs, I looked into the kitchen just in time to see Colton dumping the glass in the trash can. He was still on the phone.

  “That’s what I thought,” I heard him say as he placed the dustpan on the counter. “You know how he operates. We all know how he works.” There was a pause as he turned around. His eyes met mine. “Yeah,” he spoke into the phone. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Suddenly self-conscious, I glanced at the window and then back at him as I stood near the stairwell. “Thank you for cleaning up. You didn’t have to do that.”

  He placed his phone on the counter and started toward me. Goose bumps raced across my flesh. “Do you have something to cover the window with tonight? Tomorrow I can head down to the hardware store and get some boards to cover it until someone can get out here and replace it.”

  Did I fall and hit my head? “You don’t have to do that. Thank you, but—”

  “I know I don’t have to do it. I want to do it.” With his long-legged pace, it took him no time to end up standing in front of me. “I’m off tomorrow, and I have time now unless I get a call.”

  I tilted my head back to meet his stare as I weighed whether I should accept his help. It seemed stupid not to, but it was a lot for him to do for…for me. “I don’t want you to go out of your way, Colton.”

  One side of his lips kicked up. “I don’t mind going out of my way for you.” He put his hand on the stairway railing above me. “Not at all.”

  The crazed, possibly carnivorous, butterfly flutter from this morning was back, wiggling around in my stomach.

  “Let me help you with this,” he urged softly.

  I drew in a shallow breath. “Okay.”

  The smile grew as he lifted his hand from the railing and caught a piece of my hair, brushing it back from my cheek. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  It was and I didn’t even understand why.

  “Do you have a tarp that I could use to cover the window?” he asked.

  “There is one in the shed out back. It was there when I moved in and I don’t know if it’s any good or not.”

  “I’ll check it out.” He started to turn and then stopped. Placing the tips of his fingers under my chin, he tilted my head back. There was a good chance my heart stopped. “Can I ask you something?”

  At that moment, he could probably do anything he wanted. “Sure.”

  The dimple appeared on his left cheek and then he bit down on his lower lip. Something about that tugged at the very core of me. I wanted to be his teeth. Or his lip. Hell, I’d be down for any part of that.

  “Do you believe in second chances?” he asked.

  That was not the question I was expecting him to ask, but my answer was immediate and it was the truth, something I felt deeply. “Yes.”

  “Good.” His finger slipped up my chin and his thumb smoothed along the skin under my lip. “So do I.”

  Chapter 7

  Luck was finally shining down on me. The tarp Colton gathered from the shed was useable. I put on a pot of coffee while he broke out the duct tape, and then I pretended not to be watching him cover my window.

  I was totally watching him. I mean, who wouldn’t? When he’d spread out the tarp, he’d bent over and good Lord in sweet, sweet heaven, that man had a great rear end. And then when he started hanging it up, I was witness to the amazing display of muscles rippling and straining under his shirt.

  What I would give to see that man in the buff.

  During this, I did make a mental note to contact my insurance company on Monday morning, so I wasn’t a complete fail at prioritizing.

  I walked his cup over to him, placing it on the coffee table. Working on one corner, he glanced over his shoulder. “Thanks.”

  Since I had tried to help already and was virtually shooed away, I sat on the couch. “I really do appreciate this.”

  “It’s no problem.” He ripped off the section of the tape. “There’re a couple of things I need to talk to you about. I was planning on filling you in
tomorrow. Maybe over some pancakes this time.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut briefly and wished his words meant more than just charming flirtatiousness. “Okay.”

  “We’ve identified the victim.” He stretched the tarp down the right side as he filled me in. “Not the most upstanding citizen, but his record was mostly petty crimes, a few drug infractions. Looks like what went down Friday night might have been more of a turf thing, but obviously it’s bigger than that.”

  My spine stiffened. “I figured as much. Creepy van dude gave me that impression.”

  “The man murdered worked for Isaiah Vakhrov. Have you ever heard of him?”

  “No. Should I have?”

  He shook his head as he tore off another piece of tape. “Not if you want to live a long, healthy and safe life, no. Isaiah Vakhrov pretty much runs the city, but not from the right side of the fence, if you get what I’m saying. His fingers are in everything. Some of his business is legit and some of it’s not. Lot of drugs come in and out of this city because of him.”

  I frowned. “So, he’s some kind of crime lord? And everyone knows this? How is he still doing what he does?”

  “Cause like I said, he’s got his hands in a lot of things, and that means he’s got a lot of people in his pocket. He’s Teflon. Nothing sticks.”

  “Wow,” I murmured.

  “Anyway, the man murdered worked for Isaiah, and one thing every shitbag in this state and the ones touching ours knows is you don’t mess with Isaiah’s people unless you want a target on the back of your head. Whoever the shooters are, either aren’t the brightest or they have more balls than brains. And whoever they work for doesn’t want that connection made,” he told me. “Which explains what happened at the store and this. Someone ID’d you. Could’ve been anyone hanging around the crime scene Friday night or…”

  Or it could’ve been someone in the police department. Good God, this was unreal.

  “The thing is, knowing Isaiah, he’s going to find out who pulled that trigger before us.” His laugh was without humor. “He almost always does. And he’s going to take care of it. But what I don’t like is whoever the punks work for coming after you.” He yanked on the tape. “They’re not going to get close to you again.”