Firefly Run (2 page)

"He won’t back down because he’s evil. You didn’t see the look in his eyes when he said it." Reed stared hard at her. "You didn’t hear the hatred in his voice when he said, ‘I’ll get out. And I’ll finish what I started.’"

She knew that look. She’d seen it in the courtroom as she’d sat in the witness box and recounted the worst day of her life—the day Eddie had sat in a car a short distance from the church steps where she and Troy stood after their wedding and put three bullets in her husband of less than five minutes. The haunting images of all that bright blood marring the white of Troy’s shirt and her gown made her dizzy.

Shelly fought the surge of fear and fury and walked back to the picnic table. She sat before her shaking legs could dump her on the ground.

"But he’d look for me in Texas."

"You know what kind of family he has. They will have told him exactly where you are. He’ll likely look for me first, but when he can’t find me he’ll come for you. I wish I could have guaranteed he’d come for me before coming here because then you wouldn’t have to worry about this, but I couldn’t guarantee it, Shelly, and I couldn’t trust your safety to anyone else. No one else would know what kind of man they’d be up against."

"Do you think after all this time, he’d still risk making good on that threat?"

"I know he will. Eddie thinks very highly of himself. He’s convinced he’s a genius and he can outwit anyone he chooses. That’s why his conviction made him so angry and so bent on revenge." Reed eyed the woods around them. "And there’s a lot of forest around here for a guy with a gun to hide in."

Shelly glanced up, stared into the deep green canopy surrounding their clearing. It had always served as a comfort, a refuge in times of need. Would it now prove ominous, a potential harbor for death?

She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t risk what her family had worked so hard for. Couldn’t allow Eddie to force her into hiding when there was no guarantee he was even in the state, let alone nearby. Wouldn’t allow him to win.

"I can’t leave, Reed."

"Shel—"

"I’ll be careful. I’ll tell Chris to be careful. If we don’t hear that Eddie’s drinking margaritas in Cancun soon, I’ll warn the guests there could be some danger and hope I’m not putting a stake in the heart of our business. But I can’t pack up and leave now. I owe my parents too much. They’re depending on me."

She expected him to argue, but when she looked back at him, she saw resignation in his tired hazel eyes.

"You’re just as stubborn as I remember," he said.

The hint of the old Reed made her smile. "Why, Detective Tanner, that’s the nicest compliment I’ve gotten all day."

He attempted to smile, but it never quite materialized. "I’m sorry I haven’t called."

She waved his apology away. "It’s not like I picked up the phone either."

They lapsed into silence. A year of their lives had passed since they’d talked last, and yet they couldn’t seem to find anything to say.

A growling from Reed’s side of the table broke the silence.

"When did you eat last?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Lunch yesterday?" That a grown man couldn’t even remember when he’d last eaten said a lot for his state of mind. He was truly worried, and she had to do something so she didn’t give in to panic and what might be irrational fears.

"Give me a minute to talk to Chris, then I’ll make you some lunch."

"You don’t have to do that."

"You going to go into town to eat?" she asked.

"No."

"That’s what I thought." She pointed to her left. "That’s my cabin. Go on in and get something to drink out of the fridge."

Shelly headed for the office, and halfway there the feeling that she was being watched crept over her. Was it Reed? Chris? Or someone she couldn’t see? She quickened her pace, avoiding the answer.

****

Reed sat at Shelly’s kitchen table, a rustic piece that looked as though it’d been made out of barn siding. He ate the thick ham and cheese sandwich and sweet pickles she’d placed before him as he watched her put away some groceries and act as if she’d forgotten he was there. He allowed her the time to soak in the reality of the situation.

He glanced around the main room of the small cabin, noting the blue-and-white checked curtains at the windows, the framed photographs of mountain scenes on the walls, the patchwork quilt draped over the back of the couch, and a mason jar filled with some nameless wildflowers centered on the mantle above the stone fireplace. A closed door across the room presumably led to her bedroom and bathroom.

The exterior matched the guest cabins, the interior reflected Shelly’s love of nature and her welcoming personality. But nothing even hinted at her life in Texas. No Texas-themed knickknacks. No evidence of the nature preserve where she’d worked. No photos of friends or even Troy.

"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.

****

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 stared 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."