Officer in Pursuit (2 page)

Her voice was staccato, all breath and
breathless at the same time. She hung up quickly, embarrassed that
anyone had heard her speak that way, even if it was just an
anonymous 911 dispatcher.

Her mouth was still filled with the
metallic taste of adrenaline, and she could feel her heartbeat
radiating through every fiber of her being, a physical
manifestation of what a fool she’d been. This wasn’t the first time
something ordinary had plunged her into an unjustified panic, but
it was the first time she’d dialed 911 by accident. She’d thought
she was getting better, finally growing into her role as an
autonomous, independent woman. But then…

Well, the past few months had shaken
her up. She’d watched her best friends rub shoulders with death at
the hands of men they’d never known, men whose paths they’d
stumbled across by association. If they couldn’t be safe, how could
she – a woman who had every reason to look over her shoulder – ever
be?

It was a question she dwelled on as
she retreated to her bedroom, locking the knob behind herself and
then securing the sliding bolt she’d picked up at the local
hardware store. Her single bed beckoned her, a lonely symbol of her
independence. As soon as she sank down onto the quilt, her phone
rang.

It startled her, and so did the name
displayed on the screen. Grey. Was he really calling – now of all
times?

She let it ring again twice, hoarding
those few seconds in an attempt to pull herself together. When she
answered the call, her voice sounded better than it had during her
accidental 911 call.

Which wasn’t saying much.

“Hello?”

“Kerry. Is everything all
right?”

“Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You didn’t answer my text. I thought
maybe—”

“No. Everything’s okay.” After her
idiotic 911 call, she didn’t need the added embarrassment of
remembering why Grey might think an unanswered text was an
indicator of trouble.

She didn’t mention the missed call,
either – to anyone else, it would probably seem
harmless.

“Okay. If you say so. Have you been
running?”

“No.” She consciously tried to steady
her breathing, focusing on the diamond lap pattern of her quilt,
angular blue and white shapes repeating over and over. She ran her
fingertips over the age-softened cotton and instantly felt far
away, drawn out of her coastal Carolina home by an uneasy
nostalgia.

The quilt had been made by her
grandmother and was one of very few things Kerry had brought along
when she’d left home, when she’d fled to the coast and started a
new life. She wasn’t particularly attached to the thing, but she’d
been dead broke at the time and had brought it as a matter of
practicality, unable to afford simple things like a new bed
set.

“You sound like you have.”

“It must be the connection.” The lie
rolled off the tip of her tongue, a self-protective mechanism. No
way was she telling Grey about what an ass she’d just made out of
herself.

“All right. I don’t mean to be a
bother. After everything, though… I was worried. Thought maybe you
could use someone to talk to.”

Oh, she’d talked to Grey all right. On
that nightmarish day, the one when she’d walked away from Wisteria,
covered in ash. He’d been the one to guide her away from the house,
hold her hand and drive her home. She was grateful for the kindness
he’d shown her, but also deeply embarrassed, in the same way she
would’ve been if she’d knocked back a bottle of wine and then
blabbed all her deepest secrets to someone.

Horror had acted as a truth serum.
She’d cried in front of him, had stood in his presence, emotionally
eviscerated by not being able to save her best friend from what had
seemed like certain death. And she’d come so, so close to telling
him everything.

She’d never told anyone before – still
hadn’t.

Now, every time she saw him, her
reaction was to clamp her mouth tightly shut, her lips sealed by
the uncomfortable feeling that she’d gone too far – said too much.
Grey didn’t deserve to have all her crazy dumped into his lap. She
was better than that – or at least, she could fake it when she was
around other people.

No one had to know about her late
night 911 freak outs.

“Kerry?” He sounded a million miles
away.

“Yeah?”

“You haven’t said anything in about a
century. The only reason I knew you were still on the line was
because I could hear you breathing. You sure you’re all
right?”

“I’m sure. I just spaced out. It’s
late, and I’m tired.”

“I won’t keep you on the phone then.
See you Sunday.”

“Is that when we’re all going to the
beach?”

“It’s gotta be – I have work Saturday,
and so do Henry and Liam.”

“Okay. I’ll see you then.”

“Nine o’clock. Sea Glass.”

“Right.”

“And Kerry?”

“What?”

“It’s going to be okay. They’re gone
now – the Levinsons, I mean. They’re not going to hurt anyone
else.”

“I know.” A twinge of guilt
fired through Kerry. Grey obviously thought she’d been mentally
scarred by the past summer and the Levinson Brothers’ reign of
terror. And maybe she
had
been. But that wasn’t what this was about. She
couldn’t blame her faults on those two psychopaths, no matter how
twisted they’d been.

Grey was just saying goodbye when a
noise echoed through the house – Kerry’s small, locked-up world.
She made a sound deep in her throat, drew a ragged breath she knew
Grey heard.

“What is it?” His voice was different
now. Not his usual easygoing tone – demanding.
Concerned.

“There’s someone knocking on my door.”
She tried to sound like her heart wasn’t beating hard enough to
bruise her ribs from the inside out. She wouldn’t drop the phone
this time – she wouldn’t.

“Are you expecting anyone?”

“No. It’s the middle of the night.”
Okay, so it was only ten o’clock, but it was dark. Who went around
knocking unexpectedly on people’s doors at 10 pm in
Cypress?

If it’d been daylight, she
would’ve consoled herself with thoughts of cookie-selling Girl
Scouts or a kid going door to door looking to earn money mowing
lawns. Hell, even a religious crusader would’ve been a relief. But
with the sun tucked away and the moon shining stark and silver down
on her little rural neighborhood, all she could think about were ax
murderers and burglars, prison escapees. Or worse:
him
.

“Don’t answer if it’s someone you
don’t know.” For all his talk about everything being okay, Grey
sure sounded on edge. That made Kerry feel a little less crazy, but
it certainly didn’t dispel her fear.

“I won’t.”

“I’ll stay on the phone with you if
you want to go see who it is.”

“I—” She what? She didn’t want to go
to the door, even to look. But… “My closest neighbor is pushing 80.
His wife passed away last year. Something might be wrong – I’d
better check, just in case it’s him.”

If she didn’t see who was knocking,
she’d never stop wondering, would be left to imagine the
worst.

“I’ll stay on the line.”

She didn’t argue, was incapable of
pretending to be tough and turning him down. The sound of his voice
was a comfort, and gave her the courage to unlock her bedroom door
and make her way across the living room. It was a small space, but
crossing it took forever.

When she reached the door, she
hesitated. Reaching out to actually touch it felt like sticking her
foot out over the edge of her mattress had when she’d been young:
like she was putting herself at risk. Like something might reach
out of the darkness and grab her.

Of course, nothing did. And when she
rocked up onto her tiptoes, straining to get at eye level with the
peep hole, the sight on the other side was anything but
scary.

“It’s Jeremy!”

“Jeremy?”

“Yes. He’s in uniform, and his squad
car is in my driveway.”

“That’s weird.”

“Yeah. I’d better see what he wants.
Thank you for staying on the phone with me.”

“Any time. Let me know what Jeremy
says.”

“Okay. See you Sunday.”

She had trouble turning the doorknob,
thanks to her sweaty palms. Eventually she got it though, and
opened the door to face the only officer of the Riley County
Sheriff’s Department she knew on a first name basis. She was so
relieved to see a familiar, benevolent face that she could’ve
hugged him.

“Kerry.” He flashed her a tight smile,
meeting her eyes before his gaze darted beyond her, into her house.
“Everything all right? Dispatcher got a 911 call from this
address.”

Instantly, her cheeks were on fire.
“Everything’s fine. I accidentally dialed 911, like an idiot. I
thought I explained to the dispatcher. Sorry.”

“The dispatcher said she could hardly
keep you on the phone for five seconds. Said you sounded
distressed. Thought somebody had better stop by and check in, just
in case.”

“Well, I’m sorry to have wasted your
time. I hope you’re having a slow night – I feel bad.”

He shrugged. “Matter of fact, it has
been a slow night. Just like it should be.” He flashed her a grin –
an expression she’d seldom seen on his face. “I reckon things are
back to normal around here and I can go back to meddling in
people’s domestic disputes and tracking down kids who don’t get
home by curfew.”

“After this summer, that must be a
relief.”

“You’re telling me. I booked so much
overtime I’m expecting the Guinness Book of World Records to come
knocking on my door any day now.”

“Since you’re not too busy, can I get
you something to drink – water or coffee?”

“I appreciate it, but my daughter got
me one of those giant travel mugs last Christmas. It was supposed
to be a joke, but I’ve been using it ever since. Got half a pot of
coffee out in the cruiser.”

“Okay. Sorry again about the false
alarm.”

“We’ve had a lot of those over the
past few months. People around here are still feeling cautious, and
that’s a good thing. I’m just glad everything’s all
right.”

Kerry relocked the door and retreated
to the window, where she watched the cruiser’s taillights until
they were nothing more than ruby red pinpricks at the end of the
road. She turned away before they could disappear.

Cautious. That was one way to put it.
Afraid was another way, but Kerry couldn’t blame other people for
feeling that way. She could, however, blame herself.

She was supposed to be stronger than
this. It was what she’d been working all these years for. She
wasn’t supposed to be living in fear anymore. Problem was, she
didn’t know how to stop.

She felt better now that she’d spoken
to Jeremy, though – the presence of another human being had put her
fears into perspective. Everything was fine. The problem was with
her, not with this night or this town, or even the anonymous car
that had turned around in her driveway.

She pulled out her phone to text Grey,
like she’d said she would. As she brought up their message history,
she realized that she’d never clarified whether or not their
breakfast on Sunday morning would be just the two of
them.

A part of her hoped it would be. The
rest of her was still tingling with the pins and needles her
adrenaline rush had left behind. Still, beyond the haze of useless
energy, she could feel the beginnings of regret. Even if she had
breakfast alone with Grey at the Sea Glass Café, it would be a
farce, a borrowed hour from someone else’s life. There would never
be anything substantial between them, only pointless fantasies and
borrowed time.

The hard reality of that fact left her
feeling profoundly alone – which she was. Alone with her secrets,
her fragile sense of safety. Deep down, she always would
be.

CHAPTER 2

Grey dunked a sugar cookie shark into
his coffee, plunging it in to the dorsal fin. The royal icing sent
an oily sheen spiraling over the coffee’s surface, a dark brew so
black it was like liquid, starless night. When he popped the
shark’s soggy head into his mouth, he was in heaven.

He had no idea what they put in these
cookies. Something illegal, maybe. He didn’t care. They were
obscenely good, even with the weird sharky grey icing. They were
also only a dollar fifty a piece, so he’d bought three. One for
him. One for Kerry. And another one for him he planned to finish
eating before she arrived.

She caught him in the act. He still
held the tail between his fingers when she walked in, looking like
a tiny, trim goddess in a navy blue dress and a sunhat.

Like him, she was in her late twenties
– the only woman that age he knew who actually wore sunhats.
Somehow, she looked good in it. When she took it off and turned in
his direction, she looked even better.