Charleston with a Clever Cougar: A Dance with Danger Mystery #6 (7 page)

“My insurance agent asked me this morning if
I had an ex-boyfriend or a customer with a grudge, because the
witnesses said that car came after us deliberately. What if Daisy
is the target?” I turned and looked at Doc, hoping he would tell me
I was overreacting. Instead, I found his gaze was steady,
unwavering.

“What would the motive be?”

“I don’t know. But it feels like it’s there,
hiding in the shadows, waiting for me to see it.” I crossed my
arms, trying to comfort myself, and then remembered why it was a
bad idea. “Ouch!”

“Walk with me,” Doc said.

“Why? Where are we going?”

“Humor me.” He led me down the hallway, to
the waiting room, where we found a quiet corner. “Tell me about
Daisy’s life. Boyfriends. School. Family. I take it Carole is a
single mom.”

It took me a few minutes to tell him about
Doug Walchuk’s hot affair with Mimi, as well as the plan to change
the custody agreement. When I got done, Doc stood up.

“We should head back.” We took our time
walking back to the exam room.

“What are we going to do?” I wondered.

“Not much to do, Cady. We can’t really
connect anyone to the hit-and-run or the attack tonight. At least
the cops know. They have the resources and manpower to investigate
any leads.”

“I suppose. I feel like I should watch out
for Daisy. What if those people try again?”

“We’ll both look out for her. You need to pay
attention to your gut, though. If something doesn’t feel right,
it’s probably due to the fact that you noticed something, and you
didn’t realize what you were seeing.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I learned the hard way that sometimes your
brain takes in information, but doesn’t process it right. Your body
knows there’s danger, but you just can’t figure out what you
missed. Instead of dismissing it, work with it. That little dip in
the road might be a buried IED. That sudden scattering of people in
the square might indicate an ambush.”

In that instant, an image suddenly floated up
from the past. There was a shadow that night, just behind the shrub
by the front entrance to the hospital, and it moved when I trudged
along the sidewalk, sobbing my heart out. I only walked a hundred
yards, but it was enough. The street light was out. There was no
one around to hear me scream, not until that woman walked by. My
attacker stalked me. He followed me from the hospital, waiting
until it was dark enough to grab me.

“You okay?” He touched my arm, freeing me
from the remembering.

“I never realized that he stalked me that
night. He planned the whole thing. He was lying in wait.”

“The assault at the hospital? Why does this
surprise you?”

“I always thought he attacked me because I
wandered off. I walked away from the safety of the hospital. But he
actually followed me from the front door.” I studied the floor,
still recalling the sights and sounds of that night. And the
smells. “I didn’t wander into his territory. He was already in
mine.”

“The Big Bad Wolf was a predator. He saw
Little Red Riding Hood on her way to Granny’s house, so he stalked
her. It’s what predators do.”

Carole must still be in with Daisy, the
doctor, and the cops. The exam room door was closed. We took up
positions along the hallway wall to wait.

“Doc, maybe those guys have been watching the
shop. Both times, they went after Daisy after she left Cady’s Cakes
-- the first time when we were done for the day, the second when
she dumped the trash. They must be hanging around.”

He stood there, leaning, silent, staring at a
painting of a lily pond on the opposite wall. His fingers formed a
church steeple, and he rested them against his lips. Finally, he
spoke.

“Yes,” he agreed. “They had eyes on the
place. What was different about Daisy’s day before the crash?”

“Nothing. We locked up at the normal time. I
usually drive her home.”

“What about today, Cady?”

“On a normal day, it would just be Daisy and
me closing up the shop at six.”

“Would she take the trash out? Is that one of
her jobs?” Doc inquired, his mouth tightening.

“Yes. Why?”

“Maybe they have a reason for not going after
her when she’s home. Maybe it’s supposed to look like a random
thing.”

“So, what does that mean?”

“Bad guys almost always have a tell.”

“Like in poker, Doc?” I asked. He nodded,
biting his lip as he thought.

“If it’s related to the custody thing, these
guys are hired, and they’ve been given instructions to keep it away
from the family. That means she’s in more danger when she’s away
from home. It also means they’re stalking her when she’s out and
about, looking for that opportunity.” Suddenly Doc had a smile on
his face.

“Why are you smiling?” I demanded. “How is
that a good thing she’s being stalked?”

“If we know they’re following her, we can
follow them. And it’s even better if they don’t know we know,
because we can catch them in the act.”

Chapter Seven --

“We can?”

“No. You’re hardly up to taking on bad guys.
I’ve got some buddies with the right skills.”

“You do?” There was something about the way
he said that which sent a little drop of hope into my veins. Maybe
this would level out the playing field and keep Daisy safe.

“I do. And these guys owe me. I’m calling in
my chips.” Doc gently brushed my cheek with his fingers, wiping
away the last remnants of the tears spilled earlier. “Don’t worry,
Cady. We’ll make sure no one gets to Daisy or anyone else in the
family.”

“Promise?”

“You let me do my thing, okay?” Doc squeezed
my fingers in his. “I’ll do the worrying. You concentrate on that
wedding.”

“Oh!” I groaned. “The wedding!”

“You’ll get it done, Cady. Take a breath and
focus on the mission.”

“Right.” Easier said than done.”

The door to the exam room opened and the cops
came out. Daisy and Carole were still waiting for the final
discharge instructions. Doc and I spent five minutes with a pair of
detectives, giving them our version of events. They were very
interested in the fact that the license plate was taped over and
unreadable.

The emergency room physician released Daisy
just before seven, with instructions to take it easy for the next
few days. Carole was shaken, but Doc managed to convince her that
Daisy would be safe, without giving her any of the details on how
that would get done. He also didn’t want to share with her the
potential that her ex-husband’s custody suit was somehow involved.
We all drove back in Doc’s two-seater van. Daisy and I huddled in
the back, on the air mattress Doc had inflated, his sleeping bag on
top. We talked softly. I told her just a little of my own
experience because I wanted her to understand that I had walked in
those shoes and survived it, and if she needed to vent, I would be
her shoulder to cry on. Daisy had already considered me a confidant
when things got rough with Carole’s cancer, so I felt sure she
would seek me out when she needed to talk.

Dylan had stayed with Lonnie and his wife,
Karen, so we stopped by to pick him up before proceeding to the
Walchuks’ unit.

“You call me if you need anything,” I told
Carole once the family was settled in for the night.

“We will,” she agreed, her arm around her
daughter.

“What time do you leave for school?” Doc
asked Daisy.

“I have to go to school tomorrow?” There was
dismay in the teenager’s voice.

“Sure. How else will your friends hear about
your ordeal? Besides, do you really want the bad guys to think they
have you beat?”

“But....” Daisy started to protest.

“Do you want to spend the rest of your life
hiding?” he demanded.

“I guess not,” she decided reluctantly.

“What time do you want me to pick you up?”
Doc’s behavior was bordering on pushy, but I realized what he was
doing. If we were going to catch the bad guys stalking the
teenager, she had to get out in public.

“Quarter to eight. Does this mean I’m going
to work, too?”

“Absolutely. Any reason you shouldn’t?” I
watched Daisy’s reaction as she stood talking to Doc. She seemed to
relax a little at the thought that life would go on and she would
resume doing the things she normally did. There was something about
him, gruffness and all, that seemed to instill confidence. It had
been a long time since Doug had been a regular member of the
Walchuk family, and that masculine energy was clearly missing from
the family dynamics. She needed a male role model, someone
protective and strong. For all her teenage angst and attitude, she
was really just a scared little girl underneath it all. Carole’s
cancer had shaken her faith and forced her out of her comfortable
life. Coming on the heels of the divorce, it created instability
for Daisy at a time she needed stability most.

“Call me if you need me,” Doc told Carole,
“day or night. Let me give you my number.”

As Carole took out her cell phone to add it
to her contacts list, Daisy pulled me aside.

“Cady, I’m scared. What if those guys come
back? What if they break in and hurt me, Mom and Dylan?”

“Honey, it’s hard to let go of the fear. But
you have to make the effort. You make sure the doors and windows
are locked. Sometimes it helps to leave on a light or two. You can
call me, even if you just need to talk because you’re afraid. We’ll
help you get through this. One day at a time.”

“What if it’s three in the morning? Can I
call you?”

“Even if it’s three in the morning,” I
assured her.

Carole saw us to the door, thanking us. Doc
saw the unspoken question in her worried eyes.

“It will be okay,” he said firmly, as if he
could will it. She responded with a tentative smile. She needed the
support almost as much as her daughter did. “Make sure you lock
up.”

Once outside, Doc escorted me to my place. He
waited while I dug out my keys and opened the front door.

“Are you hungry? I could make us some eggs,”
I offered.

“I have a better idea.”

“You do?”

“Let me do the cooking.”

“You can cook?” I gave him a grin, thinking
what a handy guy he was to have around.

“Sure. Omelets are my specialty.”

Half an hour later, we had finished eating
and were sitting on my sofa, watching a sitcom. I was in my sweats,
my slipper socks keeping my toes warm. Doc took the afghan off the
back of the sofa and tucked it around my legs without saying a
word.

“Thanks,” I replied, thinking it was sweet
that he did that. I still didn’t have a handle on him. There was a
lot of kindness in Doc, but he was still a tough nut to crack. It
was as if he always held me at arm’s length.

“You’re still healing,” he reminded me. “You
don’t want to catch a chill.”

“Where are you staying?” I asked. I assumed
he was at one of the local motels.

“My van.”

“Your van? Isn’t it cold at night?” I
responded. Doc started to laugh. I took umbridge. “Why is that
funny?”

“Cady, I’ve done three tours of duty in Iraq
and Afghanistan. Between the blazing heat, the bitter cold, and
everything in between, I’ve handled a lot worse than this.”

“You’re welcome to use my spare room.” That
came out before I realized what I was saying. It bothered me that
Doc wasn’t sleeping in a bed in a nice, warm house.

“That’s a great offer, but I’ll have to
pass.”

“Where will you go tonight?”

“Where will I go? I’m not going anywhere.
I’ll be right outside. I’m keeping an eye on Daisy and her family.
And you, too,” he added.

“Oh, that actually makes sense,” I replied.
“You’ll be right there if we need you.”

“Exactly.”

“Come for breakfast. I won’t take no for an
answer, Doc.”

“I won’t give it. And I’ll use your shower.
I’ve been staying at my buddy’s house over in Chalker Beach, and my
stuff is over there, but I have a change of clothes in the
van.”

“So, does that mean you’re not homeless?”
That slipped out before I could bite my tongue. Maybe it was seeing
that sleeping bag and air mattress in the back of the van where
seats should be. Doc’s eyebrows shot up and he shook his head.

“Cady, not every vet is broken and in need of
fixing. Some of us just need some time to get back into the swing
of things. Trauma does that to you. It’s a matter of working it
out.”

“Of course. It’s just that I thought because
of the air mattress....”

Doc threw his head back and roared. Those
thick glasses came off and he wiped his eyes. I felt like pummeling
him with my good arm, but even my good arm still hurt. And forget
about the one that was badly injured. I still couldn’t raise it
above my chest.

“Good Lord, woman! I have that there because
I just went camping for two weeks in the White Mountains. A group
of dedicated ice fishermen in the wilds of New Hampshire, roughing
it.”

“Well, I officially feel like an idiot,” I
acknowledged.

“As well you should,” Doc agreed. “You just
earned the title.”

At ten, I set Doc up with a pot of coffee. He
poured it into one of my thermal carafes and went out into the cool
night air with a smiley face mug.

“See you,” he called over his shoulder. I
watched him open the van and climb in the back. Once he set down
the carafe and the mug, he slid the van door shut. What a shame it
was that he seemed to need that emotional distance from his fellow
man, I thought. It made me wonder what he had endured in war. That
brusque manner seemed to come and go. As time went on, he seemed
less inclined to snap, although I suspected that was just a part of
his normal personality. Doc called it like he saw it, and there was
no way he would tolerate foolishness. Such a difference from
Stephen, who lived on his comfortable yacht with all the amenities.
I couldn’t remember Stephen ever taking care of me. In the few
short hours I had known Doc, he had done more than just attend to
my bruises and contusions. He had also patched up my soul, helping
me to put more perspective to my buried past.