Hold Your Breath (Search and Rescue) (19 page)

“
Me
playing with—” It took an extreme effort, but she managed to bite off the rest of that sentence before it escaped in the indignant tone it deserved. “Fine. I’ll be kind to Brent. Can I have his number now?”

“I’m having reservations about this,” her mom snipped. “I don’t believe you are taking my concerns seriously.”

“I’m very serious about this, Mom.” Taking a deep breath, she silently counted to three before exhaling. “Please.”

The pause that followed seemed endless. “Very well,” she agreed, although she still sounded reluctant. “I’ll text you his number.”

“Thank you.” That was the most sincere thing she’d said to her mom in a long time.

“So, does this interest in Brenton mean you’re considering returning to civilization, or are you still enmeshed in your childish rebellion?”

“Sor—Mom…can’t…los—” With a satisfied poke of her finger, she ended the call.

The text came through seconds later, and Lou handed the phone to Rob. “Can you track his phone using the number?”

He scribbled the number into his ever-present notebook. Instead of answering her question, he started asking his own. “What’s his full name?”

“Brenton Lloyd.” When Rob raised his eyebrows, as if expecting something more, she clarified, “Brenton Michael Lloyd.”

“Address?”

Lou rattled it off to him.

“You said he works for your stepfather. What’s the company name?”

The interrogation continued for a while, long enough for Lou to go hoarse and start to feel the wind cut through her coat. When she shivered, Callum stepped forward, easing his bulk between her and Rob.

“Enough for now, Rob,” he said, his voice calm but implacable. “She’s cold.”

The sheriff eyed him narrowly for a long moment, and Lou had the mad urge to hum the preshoot-out theme from an old Western. Rob broke the tension by flipping his notebook closed and tucking it into his pocket.

“You working today, Lou?” he asked.

“Shoot!” She yanked Cal’s sleeve back so she could see his watch. To her relief, she had almost an hour before her shift started. “Phew. And yes. Noon to seven thirty, or thereabouts.”

“Don’t you want to take some time off?” Early asked, frowning. “After, you know…” He jerked his chin toward the remains of her house, but she avoided looking at the charred mess again.

“No,” she said without hesitating. “I need to be busy, or I’ll think about it too much. Working is good.”

“I’ll stop in this afternoon, and we’ll finish this then.” Rob tapped his pocket where his notebook was hiding.

She just nodded, resigned to more questions. It seemed to have become her life recently. The hard knot in her stomach seemed to have settled in permanently.

“Ready?” Callum asked, tipping his head toward his pickup—their getaway vehicle. He’d been a steady, quiet presence the entire time they’d been there, and she appreciated it more than she could ever say.

“Yes,” she responded with such relief that he smiled.

As they moved out of earshot of the other three men, Callum tilted his head closer to hers. “Sure you want to work?”

“Positive.”

He gave her an appraising look out of the corner of his eye.

“What?” she asked.

“You’re just…very resilient.”

“Not really.” Lou made a face. “I’m a few short steps away from a major breakdown. I just don’t want to hang around home…your house, I mean.” Her new reality smacked her in the face, and she swallowed before continuing. “All I would do is dwell on everything. And probably rearrange all your stuff out of boredom, which would lead to
your
nervous breakdown. Going to work is best, I think.”

After another careful look, he just nodded silently and opened the passenger door of his truck for her. After he circled the front of the pickup and climbed into the driver’s side, she studied his profile.

“You know,” she said thoughtfully, “there’s been a lot of bad stuff happening—HDGs and stalkers and burning cabins and close calls with death and such.”

“Yes?” Callum sent her a curious glance as he turned the key, bringing the pickup’s engine to life.

“You’re the good part of all this. Getting to know you was worth everything that happened.” With a frown, she added, “Although HDG might not agree with that.”

The skin over Callum’s cheekbones had darkened to the color of brick, and Lou was pretty sure it wasn’t all because of the cold. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Leaning her head against the seat and basking in the heat beginning to flow through the truck’s vents, she promptly fell asleep.

* * *

There were now two positives to almost dying: more time with Callum, and Ivy was being nice. Kindness sat oddly on her boss, like a coat that didn’t quite fit, but Lou appreciated the effort. She also took advantage of Ivy’s temporary fit of sympathy by asking if another staff member could close with her at night. Although the sweetness quickly soured, Ivy grudgingly agreed she would schedule two people to close, as soon as Sylvia’s newly hired replacement was trained.

Buoyed by this concession, Lou stayed fairly positive for the busy first hour of her shift. Lou had the impression that the majority of those who stopped in were driven by curiosity. The news of her cabin burning had apparently spread across Field County quicker than the flames had eaten her home. Although her smile stretched thin when she was faced with some of the more prurient gossips, most of the people offered real sympathy and support.

The crowd was dwindling when Derek charged through the door and behind the counter. As she stared at him, mouth open, he grabbed her in a bear hug, lifting her off her feet.

“Why didn’t you call Artie and me last night?” he demanded, giving her a shake. Although Lou tried to answer, his arms squeezed all of the oxygen out of her lungs. “I just heard about your cabin. Shit, Lou, are you okay?”

Wiggling her hands between their bodies, she shoved against his chest. He finally got the message and set her on her feet. Taking a step back, he kept his hands on her shoulders, giving her a shake to emphasize each exclamation.

“I heard you weren’t hurt. That was true, right?” He eyed her closely. “You don’t have any burns that I can see. What caused the fire? Was it one of those candles of yours? Damn it, Lou, I knew you’d forget you had them lit one of these times. I didn’t see your truck outside. Did it burn, too? Ah man, you loved that truck.”

Lou took advantage of his tiny pause and grabbed his wrists. “Derek. Breathe.”

“But did you—”

Not waiting for a break this time, she just interrupted him. “Sit. I’ll get you a coffee.” Eyeing his face, she amended, “A
decaf
coffee. Then I’ll tell you everything, okay? Right at this second, just know I’m okay. Cal’s okay. My stuff is gone, but it’s just stuff. Everything is going to be fine.”

Although he still looked a little wild-eyed, he did as she asked, circling around to the customer side of the counter with only a few fairly gentle nudges. As he plopped down on a stool, she poured his decaf coffee. Lou handed it to him, eyeing him carefully before deciding he was stable for the time being. Turning to the two people waiting in line who’d watched the previous scene with undisguised interest, she gave them a how-can-I-help-you smile.

“Hi, Lou.” Naomi, who worked at the outdoor-gear store down the street and came in almost daily for her early afternoon pick-me-up, leaned over the counter and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Are you dating Derek now? Isn’t he with Artie?”

“Of course not,” Naomi’s friend and coworker, Daryl, scoffed. He was jammed right up against Naomi so he could hear what she was saying, his floppy bangs not concealing the eager look in his eyes. “She’s practically living with Callum. Everybody knows that.”

“Because
everybody
never gets it wrong.” Naomi rolled her eyes. “Her house burned down, genius. She has to stay somewhere.”

Daryl blew a raspberry. “They were living together
before
her place got torched. Dude, you are so out of the loop.”

“Don’t call me ‘Dude.’” Turning to Lou, who was watching their interplay with wide eyes, Naomi said, “So, Derek or Callum? Derek seems like more fun, if you want my opinion. If he’s still with Artie, though, you’d better put down the man and back away slowly. She could totally take you.”

Derek cleared his throat. “I’m sitting right here. I can hear you, you know.”

“I
said
you were more fun.” Naomi sighed. “Why are you offended?”

“Did you two want some coffee?” Lou asked, a little desperate to redirect the conversation.

“Just the usual—medium soy latte, extra hot.” Naomi rattled off the order, even though Lou had made it dozens of times.

“Double-shot cappuccino.” Tossing his hair out of his eyes, Daryl asked, “Do you think whoever lit your place on fire is the one who tossed that headless dude in the reservoir?”

“Someone
lit your place on fire
?” Derek’s voice was back in the frantic range.

Focusing extra hard on steaming the soy milk, Lou shook her head. “I don’t think the two things are related.”

“Oh.” Daryl sounded disappointed. “You found him, right? The headless dude, I mean? How freaky was that?”

Her smile was strained as she answered. “Pretty freaky. Do you want anything to eat?”

“Of course. Who do you think you’re talking to? I’ll take one of those seven-layer bars.”

As she pulled out the pastry and set it on a plate, she asked Naomi, “How about you?”

“No, thanks. I just want to know which guy you’re knocking boots with.”

Lou could feel her cheeks reddening, so she spun toward the register to hide it. “Neither, actually.”

Making a scoffing sound, Naomi held out a ten as she narrowed her eyes at Lou. “Please. You spend all that time hanging out with these hot, buff guys, and you’re ‘just friends’? I don’t think so, unless you’re rocking a cast-iron chastity belt.”

Derek broke into a coughing fit, and they all looked over at him. “I’m fine,” he said hoarsely. “Coffee just…went down the wrong way.”

Turning back to making Naomi’s change, Lou prayed for the conversation to end, but it obviously wasn’t her day.

“Aren’t you worried about, you know, things getting awkward? If you guys don’t work out, I mean? It’s kind of a small town, so it’s hard to avoid people you don’t want to see.” Daryl spoke around a huge mouthful of seven-layer bar.

Naomi turned her narrowed gaze to her coworker. “You weren’t that concerned about it when you were banging me in the storage room.”

“O-kay!” Lou said more loudly than she’d intended. “Don’t you two have to get back? Who’s running the store?”

With a shrug, Daryl took another bite. “Put a sign on the door. You know, a ‘be back in five’ kind of deal.”

“It’s definitely been five,” Lou said, grabbing the sparse remains of his bar and wrapping it in a piece of waxed paper. She handed it back to him, making a shooing motion toward the door. “There’s probably a line of people waiting to buy something.”

“Doubt it,” Naomi said, although to Lou’s relief she started moving slowly in the direction of the exit. “It’s been dead.”

“Like the headless dude!” Sputtering a crumb-spewing laugh, Daryl jammed the last piece of the seven-layer bar into his mouth. Balling up the waxed paper, he tossed it toward the garbage can across the shop. It fell to the ground a fair distance from the trash bin, and Daryl’s shoulders collapsed.

“I’ve got it,” Lou assured him, hurrying around the counter and toward the fallen wad of paper. “You’ve got a store to open. Off you go now!”

For once, the jangle of the sleigh bells was music to Lou’s ears as the pair gave final waves and headed outside. She tossed the paper into the garbage.

“I really could’ve lived without the mental image of the two of them going at it in the storage room,” she muttered, returning to the counter to grab a wet cloth. “Can you imagine what his kitchen looks like? Gross.” The wet crumbs were everywhere. She squished up her face as she cleaned the pastry case.

“Forget them,” Derek said. “Tell me what happened.”

She did. From the punctured tires to the fire at her cabin, she gave him all the details of her stalker, the lovely Brenton Lloyd.

“You’re sure this is the guy?” Derek asked when she finished.

“The car matches his, down to the Connecticut plates,” she said, rinsing out the cloth. “The more I think about it, the more I can see him doing things like this. He always did have a short fuse. Well, at least hiring someone to do the small things. The arson seems flat-out nuts.”

“I don’t get it.” He frowned, picking at the rim of his now-empty cup. “If you broke up with him last summer, why’d he go all stalker on your ass now?”

With a shrug, she reached for his cup, knowing that if she left it in his hands, it would shortly be in pieces all over the counter. “He’s always been, I don’t know, a little bit…off, I guess. My parents really pushed me to date him, but once I found out they were bribing him to marry me, I knew I had to break things off with him—for good that time.” Her legs felt tired, so she rounded the counter and sat on the stool at the end—Callum’s usual seat. When she realized she was smiling at the thought, Lou hastily wiped her expression clear.

Luckily, Derek was too busy thinking about her stalker’s motives to notice. “Why now, do you think?”

“Not sure.” She shrugged again. “Maybe it fully sunk in that I wasn’t coming back, or my parents could have said something about me refusing to leave the mountains, or who knows? Sometimes I wonder why I’m trying to apply logic to the actions of a crazy person. This makes me extra glad I turned down that plane ticket, though. Despite everything that’s been happening here, there’s no part of me that wants to return to Connecticut. I spent too many years caught in that trap.”

“Plane ticket?”

With a heavy sigh, she tipped her head back against the wall. “Don’t ask. After kicking HDG, I was a little traumatized and obviously not thinking clearly. I figured I needed my mom.”

“HD—what?”

“Oops!” Her hand flew to cover her mouth. “Can you pretend you didn’t hear that?”