Firefly Run Read online

  "I put them away," she said, startling him from his inspection.

  "What?"

  "The pictures of Troy you were looking for."

  Her accuracy surprised him. "You pick up mind reading in these mountains?"

  She slid into the chair on the opposite side of the table but kept her profile to him. For some reason, her nearness made him nervous.

  "It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done." Her face hinted at a sadness that had dulled but would never fully disappear. "Mom and I argued about it. I felt like I was betraying Troy by shoving all my reminders of him in a drawer. Mom had loved him too, but she said it was the only way I’d be able to go on, to learn to live again. I fought it for so long because I didn’t want to live again. I wished Eddie had shot me too."

  Her admission ripped at Reed’s heart. God, how much more guilty and worthless would he feel if Shelly had died that day, too? That his best friend had died while he’d been inside the church flirting with a bridesmaid was guilt enough. Hell, he couldn’t even remember the girl’s name now.

  Shelly glanced at him before returning her gaze to the opposite side of the room. "Six months after I came home, I woke up one morning in here in the middle of the floor, a picture of Troy wrapped in my arms and my eyes nearly swollen shut from crying. I looked like hell, felt even worse. It hurt so much to admit it, but Mom was right. I had to accept that Troy was never coming back and learn to live without him."

  "Have you?" Reed cursed himself the moment the question was out of his mouth. But he had to know. Was there some way to go on? To stop remembering? Because as hard as he’d tried, he couldn’t outrun the guilt and pain.

  She looked at him again, even tried to smile. "I get a little closer every day." She lowered her eyes to the rough tabletop. "At least I did. Today I feel like I’ve been jerked back to square one."

  Without thinking, he placed his hand atop hers. "I’m sorry."

  Her lip trembled as she tried again to smile. "It’s not your fault."

  But it was. If he hadn’t been so driven to see the Victor clan and their ilk behind bars, Troy would still be alive. He had no doubt Eddie had come for him that day, but when he hadn’t been where Eddie’d expected, the drug kingpin had settled for second best and ended Troy’s life instead. If only he’d put his libido on hold for a few minutes, Troy and Shelly would be happily married now, maybe even have a child. But where would he, Reed Tanner, be? Dead probably. And if by some miracle they’d all survived, he’d still be as alone as he was now.

  The selfish thought caused him to pull back his hand. He had no right to touch Shelly, no right to notice she was still beautiful despite the trauma she’d endured. He’d thought so since the moment Troy had introduced them, but he’d never considered making a move on his best friend’s love. And he wouldn’t do so now.

  He stood suddenly, almost toppling his chair. He caught it, then carried his plate to the sink and turned on the faucet.

  "I’ll do that."

  "I can clean my own plate." He said the words more sharply than he’d intended or she deserved. He placed the plate in the sink and stared at it. "Sorry. Guess I’m tired."

  She stood, then approached him. He’d known her for five years. Why was he so nervous around her? Must be the guilt over not preventing her husband’s death.

  Damn, he wanted to run, run until his legs and lungs gave out.

  Thank goodness she didn’t touch him, but some sort of fruity scent wafted up to him, making him ache to seek out its source. He closed his eyes in a vain attempt to block the image.

  "It’s okay to miss him, but you have to let go." Shelly’s voice was soothing, tempting him to...what?

  "You sound like a shrink."

  "No, I sound like my mom, who in my opinion is a million times better than some impersonal doctor I’d have to pay to talk to." She paused. "Have you talked to anyone, Reed?"

  He finished washing the plate and stuck it in the dish drainer. "What’s there to talk about? My best friend’s dead, and talking won’t bring him back."

  He had probably hurt her again, but what could he do? It’s how he felt. Talking about feelings was something women did, women and fancy doctors who liked to dissect people’s minds.

  She started to step closer, but he moved away from the sink and toward the front door. "Thanks for the sandwich. I’ll go get my things."

  Though his instinct urged him to run as fast as his legs could carry him, he forced himself to walk calmly out the front door as if this were any other of the hundreds of cases he’d worked. But there wasn’t anything normal or ordinary about this case. It was his atonement, his only chance to make it up to Troy for not being there when he’d needed him most. Outsiders might not understand. Psychologists might think it unhealthy. It might not even make sense, but it’s how he felt and there was no escaping it.

  ****

  CHAPTER TWO

  Shelly remained in the kitchen with her back to the door, stunned by the depth of the pain she’d seen in Reed’s eyes. She knew exactly how he felt, that torturous gnawing in his gut, the sleepless nights, the midnight wanderings, the endless string of what-ifs. Reed hadn’t moved through any of the stages of grief. He was still living that one day over and over. She knew. She’d been there.

  With a sigh, she moved toward the door. No wonder he looked so tired. His mind hadn’t truly rested since the day Troy had died. When she stepped out onto her porch, Reed was already striding back toward the cabin, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder.

  He still walked the same, and it reminded her of those early days of their friendship. Reed and Troy making female mouths water when they walked by with their badges flashing. Troy and Reed shooting hoops until their T-shirts were soaked with sweat. She and Troy on innumerable double dates with Reed and a steady stream of female admirers. And watching the easy way Reed now covered ground and filled a pair of faded jeans, she understood why every woman with a heartbeat had fallen for him.

  She resisted the urge to fan herself. What was wrong with her? This was Reed, for heaven’s sake. Yes, he was as handsome as sin. Even blind women knew that just by listening to his voice. But she’d never felt this flushed feeling around him, and it scared her.

  Stress, fear, lack of sleep, that’s what it was—nothing more. It couldn’t be.

  Reed Tanner, cop to the bone, was sweeping back into her life like the Texas whirlwinds she’d left behind. Having him standing between her and Eddie comforted and frightened her. If Eddie was truly coming for her, the thought of facing him alone made her sick. But she couldn’t bear thinking of Reed taking a bullet aimed at her.

  Reed climbed the steps and headed for the door.

  "Where are you going?"

  "To put my stuff inside."

  "You’re not staying in my cabin."

  "Yes, I am."

  The flushed feeling returned, and her mind screamed that having Reed under the same roof was a very bad idea.

  She pointed toward the line of guest cabins farther down the ridge. "You can stay in the first one." Close enough to provide security but far enough to give her space and prevent gossip.

  "Thought you had reservations."

  "They’re not all full until the weekend. We’ll figure out something then."

  "I need to be closer, where I can make sure you’re okay."

  "Did you happen to see the size of Bobcat Ridge when you drove through?"

  "Yeah."

  "It’s small, it’s smaller than small. But it only takes two people to get the gossip going. And, honey, we have some world-class gossipers in this town. Just ask Ina down at the post office."

  "Must not be anything else to do."

  "Smart aleck. I have great neighbors, and I can guarantee they’ll be calling and stopping by on a daily basis to see if they can help and to check on how Dad’s doing."

  "So?"

  "Don’t you remember what my dad does other than help run this place?"

  Reed stare
d at her for a moment before the memory clicked. "He’s a minister."

  "Right. He’s a minister in a small, conservative, southern town, so us staying under the same roof is a bad idea. Word would spread so fast you’d get whiplash."

  "But it’s not like that."

  "I know that." Or did she? "You know that. But the wagging tongues don’t."

  "Then we tell them."

  "And we look even guiltier."

  Reed growled and took a few steps away before turning back to her. "Damn, Shelly, how am I supposed keep you safe if I’m way the hell over there?" He punched his forefinger toward the empty guest cabin.

  "It’s not like it’s in the next county. I have a phone, a cell phone, locks, and according to my brother I can scream like a banshee."

  Reed looked like the one who might scream, but to his credit he didn’t. But she felt the tension from ten feet away. She stepped off the porch and headed for the guest cabin.

  "Shelly."

  She stopped, turned back toward him. "I’m tired, Reed. Exhausted. I don’t feel like arguing. You can sleep in one of the guest cabins, in your car, or out here on the ground. But I guarantee you that as soon as you spend one night in my cabin, the entire town will think I’ve shacked up with the first guy to stroll through town after the ambulance hauled my father away."

  "You shouldn’t care what anyone says. You ought to care about your life."

  "You might not believe this, but the thought that Eddie Victor might be coming here scares me to death. Sure, I’d feel safer if you were sleeping on my couch, but there’s no guarantee he’ll ever come near Bobcat Ridge. I have to live here after you leave. I have to think about things like my parents’ reputation, how what I do affects the business. We bill ourselves as a good, clean family destination."

  "That’s so old-fashioned."

  "You’re in the Appalachians now. Things are a little bit slower here than Dallas. But that’s part of its charm."

  "If you say so."

  She resumed her course toward the nearest guest cabin, part of her wishing she didn’t have to worry about appearances and he could stay with her. Then again, another part was glad she had an excuse to keep him at a distance. That warmth wasn’t going away. Maybe she was coming down with something. What horrible timing. She glanced at what moments before had seemed like a short distance between her cabin and what would be his. Even with him nearby, she doubted she’d be able to sleep well, if at all. How long could the human body go without sleep before it began to shut down?

  "Shelly, people will understand if they know about the danger."

  "I don’t want to scare everyone, especially when Eddie might not even leave Texas. Everyone has finally stopped looking at me with pity in their eyes. I’d rather not remind them of what brought me back here."

  "It’s going to be on the news. It’s too big a story not to be. All your neighbors will know about it by nightfall."

  She stopped and sighed, already dreading the flood of phone calls she was sure to receive when the word got out. "Probably. Which means even more people will be stopping by. This is close enough, Reed. For now at least. If we get evidence that Eddie really is coming here, we’ll deal with it then, okay?"

  "Fine." The way he bit out the word told her it wasn’t fine at all.

  Reed followed her as she walked the rest of the way to the cabin, but she could feel the gears turning in his head, trying to figure out how to bend her to his will. Like he’d said, she’d always been stubborn, and living through the most torturous kind of hell had made her even stronger. Not to say she didn’t have her weak moments, but she figured she could hold her own against an equally stubborn Texas lawman.

  She unlocked the door, and he followed her inside.

  "Here you go, your very own vacation cottage with an awe-inspiring view of the famous Firefly Run of the Little River."

  He dropped his bag on the bed. "You sound like a travel brochure."

  "Did it make you want to visit?"

  He shrugged. "I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t vacation much."

  "Thanks for the ringing endorsement. Remind me not to quote you in my next ad campaign."

  A twinge of sadness pulled on her heart when he didn’t even try to smile. Where was the man who used to tease her and laugh at her way with words? Had Eddie Victor killed him, too? Left the body but killed the soul?

  Her eyes threatened to tear, but she shook it off. "Well, impressed or not, this is your temporary abode. Try to like it. It’s normally a hundred fifty dollars a night." She watched him as he scanned the small space, his gaze pausing at the windows and the door to the bathroom, likely assessing the quickest escape routes. "Listen, Reed. I’m not so stubborn that I won’t ask for help if I need it." She nodded toward the phone on the nightstand. "If I need you, I’ll call."

  His gaze locked with hers, and something about it made her want to pull him into her arms.

  "Well, I have work to do. Feel free to look around," she said, suddenly needing to put some distance between herself and Reed and breathe some air he wasn’t invading.

  She hurried out the front door and toward the office. Once she opened the screen door to the office, however, she wished she could flee anywhere else. Chris stood at the side window staring at the cottage now occupied by Reed.

  "Are you all right?" he asked as he turned toward her, hesitant to take his eyes off the guest cabin.

  "Yes. Reed’s just surly at the moment."

  "What’s going on?"

  Shelly wondered how much she should tell him. An image of Eddie shooting Chris as casually as he had Troy twisted her insides. She had to tell him the truth. If Eddie showed up, Chris was as likely to encounter him as Reed or she were.

  Oh Lord, maybe Reed was right. Maybe she should close down and protect all the innocent people like Chris and her guests. She pressed the heel of her hand against her pounding forehead. No, she couldn’t jump to conclusions. She understood why Reed would want to take every precaution when it came to Eddie Victor, but what if he was wrong? What if she did what he asked and Eddie never showed up? How would her family support themselves if she ruined the business based on a what-if?

  "Grab a couple of Cokes and come out on the porch."

  She perched herself on the porch swing. Chris followed and handed her a soda. He leaned against the porch support.

  She took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. "Reed was Troy’s partner in the detective division. Right before Troy was killed, they’d arrested one of the bigger drug dealers in town, and the guy’s brother decided to get Troy back."

  She stopped for a moment, looked down, and swallowed hard past the lump in her throat. God, it was like she was standing on those church steps again, like all those months of trying to heal had been erased. Chris might know most of this already, but she had to say it out loud to make it real, to convince herself it was more than just a bad dream.

  "The brother drove by and shot Troy just as we were walking down the steps in front of the church." She slipped her hands beneath her legs to keep them from trembling. "I identified the shooter at trial, and he went to death row. At least, he was there until this morning."

  "He escaped?"

  Shelly shook her head. "No. If he had, Reed probably wouldn’t be so worried. Chances are he wouldn’t get out of Texas. But now the guy can go anywhere he wants to. Seems some other officers planted evidence, and the conviction’s been thrown out. His name is Eddie Victor, and Reed thinks there’s a chance he might come here to try to get revenge for my part in sending him to death row. Part of me doubts that, but just in case I want you to be extremely careful. If you see anyone suspicious, call the sheriff’s department and don’t get anywhere near the guy. He’s dangerous."

  "Jesus. That’s why he’s here, to protect you?"

  "Yeah. And it’ll probably be on the news. People will be calling, neighbors, possibly some media." A chill ran down her spine at the memory of all the reporters who refused to leave h
er alone during the trial. Vultures feeding on someone else’s misery. "Just tell them I’m okay if they’re neighbors, that I have no comment if it’s reporters. But I don’t want anyone calling my family. Don’t tell anyone where Mom and Dad are. They don’t need to know this right now."

  Chris stood abruptly and moved to the edge of the porch, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She couldn’t blame him. She still couldn’t quite believe it herself.

  "Have you called the sheriff’s department?"

  "No."

  "I’ll call them."

  "No. There’s nothing to report. Eddie’s a free man in the eyes of the law. He can go where he wants to." That he could walk right up to her without consequence chilled her blood.

  Chris looked at her with disbelief, as if she were a bit daft. "They need to be on the lookout for this guy in case he shows up. If he comes here, I don’t think it’s going to be for any good reason."

  "Reed will no doubt contact them if he thinks it’s necessary. And if they show his picture on the news like I think they will, everyone will see it. If he shows up anywhere near here, someone will see him and sound the alarm." She hoped it was in time, before he could cause any more loss of life.

  Chris fidgeted, shoved his hands in the pockets of his shorts then pulled them out again. "There has to be something I can do," he said, staring at the surrounding forest much as she had earlier, as if the devil himself was hidden behind one of the thick tree trunks.

  "Leave, and convince her to go, too."

  They both jumped at Reed’s unexpected response. He’d quietly stationed himself at the edge of the porch, his arms crossed and determination tightening his features. Shelly’s heart hammered against her chest.

  Chris stood taller and stared Reed straight in the eye. "I’m not going to run like a scared rabbit."

  "Eddie Victor won’t care if you run or not. You’ll be just as dead if you get in his way."