Some Day Somebody (43 page)

“After we leave the restaurant we can go by,” Sam told him.

The group of four walked into the kitchen just as Amanda and Joe knocked at the front door. Lauren let them in and introductions began all over again.

“Wow, this place is nice,” Amanda exclaimed. “I can’t believe you just moved in yesterday.”

“We had a lot of help, including your dad and Nick.”

Grant and Nick unloaded several more items Dave had been willing to part with. Carrie placed them immediately, making her new home feel even more complete.

Carrie grabbed her keys. “Let’s go eat,” she announced as the house emptied and she locked both doors behind her. They all piled into two vehicles, the two boys riding with Amanda and Joe and the twins riding with Carrie and Sam in her car.

“You got the window fixed,” Lauren said.

“Yeah, Sam and I went shopping in his truck this morning so I could leave my car at the glass place here in town.” She cast a smile in Sam’s direction. “By the time we got back, it was done.”

Gretchen spoke up. “That was pretty cool of you, Mr. Sam.”

“Anything to help,” he said, giving her a smile.

“Mom, Daddy said to tell you he’s sorry about doing that. He said he was real upset with you at first, but he’s starting to get over it and he wants you to be happy. We told him it looks like you are, or you would be if all of this other stuff wasn’t going on,” Gretchen added.  

Lauren turned from the window. “He swears it wasn’t him that wrote that on your windshield and Uncle Jay said he was with him last night, so I believe him.”

“I’m starting to believe him too, Sweetie,” Carrie answered quietly. She turned to meet Sam’s serious gaze, knowing they were both thinking the same thing...
If it wasn’t Dave, then who?

They walked into the restaurant, chattering excitedly. The group of eight drew as many stares from the onlookers as Carrie and Sam had on their previous outing. The waitress seated them at a large table in the back dining room and they discussed what to order. Carrie liked both Amanda and Joe immediately, and the young married couple made sure to include all four of the teens in their conversations. Carrie smiled as she watched her and Sam’s children interacting.

Sam reached for Carrie’s hand under the table and squeezed it tightly. She turned to him and met his gaze as their fingers interlocked.

“Look at them,” he said quietly. “That could be our new family if we can make a go of this.”

“I love you, Carrie,” he whispered in her ear.

“I know you do,” she replied, “Thank you.”

One hour and eight full bellies later, everyone ended up back at Carrie’s. Amanda and Joe dropped the two boys off and went home to prepare for work the next morning. The four teens piled into Carrie’s car to find a movie to rent for the night. Sam told Nick to put a couple on his account until Carrie opened one for her family.

Once the kids left, Sam walked up behind Carrie and wrapped both arms around her waist as she stood at the kitchen sink. She turned to let him cradle her protectively and buried her face in his chest. “I could cry,” she said, the words muffled against his chest.

“Why? What’s wrong?” he asked, his face a study of concerned fear.

She reached up a hand to his cheek in reassurance. “Happy tears...it’s a woman thing.”

He kissed the inside of her palm and placed it over his beating heart, but remained silent.

“Did you
see
them?” she asked, lifting her gaze to meet his. “Am I reading too much into this or did they seem amazing together?”

Sam smiled down at her. “I know what you mean. It’s like I could see them ten or twenty years from now, all married with children of their own...Our grandchildren.”

***

He parked his truck a block down from Carrie’s, and took his time walking the distance to her place. Her move to Kenton meant some extra effort on his part, but it was better for him in the long run. No one knew him here.

He walked alone in the pitch black, relying on his keen night vision and letting his highly developed sense of navigation help him to avoid objects and ditches. He embraced the darkness. It was the perfect companion for his intentions. In Iraq and Afghanistan, he didn’t need the night vision goggles, preferring to use his other highly sharpened senses to find his enemies...Always hiding, waiting, like cowards, to end his life. He always got to them first.

He raised his face to the thick layer of clouds blocking out any light from the moon’s glow, thanking his luck. It sure as hell wasn’t God. He’d long ago abandoned that fairy tale.

The side window over-looking the kitchen sink was completely covered. He couldn’t see a thing, but heard
them
talking...Carrie and that old guy,
Sam.
That fool had no idea he was about to lose her. He smiled, hoping he would dare to interfere with his plans. He didn’t usually veer from the planned strategies, but if it was called for, he complied.

He walked around the back of the yard, where it was darkest thanks to the huge evergreen shade trees. There was no gate back here, no need for his lubricating spray to silence any squeaks. He placed one hand on a vertical post and leapt effortlessly into the yard. Covered in dark fatigues from head to toe, he blended into the black, invisible to the naked eye. He made his way to the window with the best view, pulling up short before it.
Dammit
, she’d put up curtains there, too
. Why’d you have to do that, Carrie?
Again, it was an inconvenience, but of no serious consequence.

He didn’t need an unlocked door to get into that house, and he sure as hell didn’t need an open curtain to see her. All he needed to do was sit here and wait for
him
to leave, and for her to go to bed. He saw her car was missing. That meant her kids must be in it. Her boy, Grant, was a driver. He’d thought for sure they’d be at their asshole father’s tonight, another minor hurdle. It simply meant waiting until they were all asleep. The pitch black hid his smile. This would be worth the wait.

He closed his eyes and settled back, remembering the feeling of being inside her house the night before, among her things, as she and her children slept. What a turn on. Just thinking about it made him hard, made him want her more. Once he’d satisfied his need to watch her in her own bed, he’d checked out every lock on every door and window. All were easy to bypass for someone with his skills.

I need a smoke.
Smoking, his one vice.
He pulled a cig out of the protective hard case. No drinking, drugs, and never unprotected sex. He definitely wouldn’t leave that evidence behind. He exercised like his life depended on it, got enough sleep, and ate all of the right kinds of foods
.

Giving up cigs...that’s another story.
He’d started the habit when he was thirteen, too young and stupid to know any better, and couldn’t kick it. In his opinion, the only thing better than a deep pull on a Marlboro Red, was the fear in a woman’s eyes as she begged for her life. He closed his eyes, lifting one corner of his mouth in sadistic pleasure. That’s what did it for him, even though the sound of a woman begging disgusted him. He hated the whining and pleading...hated the sound of them choking on tears of pain and terror. The thought caused memories to wash over him...unwanted memories from his so-called childhood. If that’s what anyone would call the years of twisted abusiveness.

He’d never begged. Not once in all the years that whore beat him within an inch of needing medical attention. His jaw tightened as he heard her voice in his head, gravelly from alcohol and cigarettes.

“That’s the trick, sweetness. No marks on the face and no trips to the hospital.”
It had taken years for that bitch to get what she deserved. His only regret being that it hadn’t come from him. Some John deprived him of his revenge. He would have loved to hear her beg as he slowly tortured the life out of her. Her death should have been a welcomed relief; instead he’d fallen through the cracks of the system...sent to a juvenile detention center where he experienced more neglect, more abuse, from those he should have been able to trust. It made him hard, angry, forged, and strengthened his will to survive. He’d escaped as soon as he could manage, and lived on his own until he was old enough to join the military. There, he learned the skills he craved...the skills to survive, and more importantly, to kill with his bare hands.

The thought snapped him back to the present. On the rare occasion when he found a woman who wouldn’t beg for her life, he considered letting her live. There were always extenuating circumstances, reasons he couldn’t, or wouldn’t let it happen. Except for that last one he’d left alive, barely, believing she had no way to identify him.

He should have known better. Blind as a newborn pup, she’d still managed to link him to those women in Chicago and Minnesota. By his accent, she’d said. What accent? He worked for months clearing his speech of any residual dialects. Again...all part of the plan. Now he had to come up with some reason to disappear that wouldn’t bring up any suspicion.
My screw up, but it won’t happen again.

Would Carrie beg for mercy, and ultimately her life? Nah, not her...He’d bet his life on it. He
knew
all about her. When people talked, he paid attention.  

He walked around to the other side of the house, back by the porch that was closed off on the north side. He finally pulled the lighter out of his pocket, tamped the cigarette on the back of his hand, and flicked his lighter. The cigarette tip glowed as he pulled on it, took the first welcome drag deep into his sinus cavity and lungs. He put his head back before expelling the smoke slowly through his nostrils. He took another deep tug on the cigarette...and froze.

One low growl was the only warning. It preceded a sequence of hysterical barking, loud enough to wake the dead, then a lunge for the screened door, accompanied by scratching and growling until the damn thing flew open.

He ran through the dark back yard with that animal hot on his ass. With less effort than previously, he jumped the fence, leaving the snarling, scruffy white mutt behind. He hit the back alley at full speed, not stopping until safely in his truck. He cranked it up, threw the truck into gear and peeled out, nearly hitting a car...Carrie’s car...as he ran the stop sign at the intersection. Luckily, the driver slammed on the breaks to avoid a collision.

***

Toto’s barking began suddenly, with a frantic snapping and snarling.

Sam ran to the back door, Carrie close on his heels. “It’s
gotta
be him...Stay here!”  He threw open the door and took the steps at a flying jump.