The Devil Wore Sneakers (8 page)

BOOK: The Devil Wore Sneakers
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“You should have called me.”

“It was late. I didn’t want to wake you.”

“I barely sleep. Next time, phone me at the Moose. What’s the cop’s theory?”

“Sullivan doesn’t like to tip his hand, but that’s not all that happened. I found an unfriendly greeting card stuffed under the door.” She dropped her gaze to the rug. Tears burned her eyes, but she refused to cry, not over Matt or his sick gift.

Liam sat beside her. An inch separated them. “Anything written on this card?”

She took a deep breath to calm herself. “It was a holy card with a picture of a priest and the saying, ‘I am who I am not.’ I’m sure Matt left it. He’s not at all who I thought he was.”

“Matt’s the guy involved in the identity theft?” Liam asked in a quiet voice.

She nodded. “The police learned that the real Matt Hastings is dead and buried. In addition to stealing another person’s life, my Hastings is suspected of kidnapping and homicide.”

“Damn. Did he sign the card?”

“No. Sending holy cards is his thing, his pattern. Sometimes he writes a message in Latin.” She shuddered inwardly and admitted, “Matt Hastings was my priest when I lived in Hawick Falls.”

“But…?” Liam stared at her while putting the information together.

“Yes, Matt and I had an affair.” Her cheeks burned in humiliation.

“I’m sorry, Luce,” he said, breaking the awkward moment. “Hastings is scum. I don’t need a police report to tell me that. Are you okay?”

“I’m a lot better than many of Matt Hastings’s victims. He hit me with his car, but as you can see, I’m all right. He and his accomplice—”

“Hold up. He ran you down with a car?” Liam gave her a glance of total disbelief. “How badly were you hurt?” His gaze swept over her.

“I’m fit and ready.” She held up her arms by her sides and then dropped them. “It’s tough talking about him.”

“Go ahead.”

Where to start? “I’ll try to summarize for you. Matt and his accomplice, Seth Bodell, kidnaped and killed a fourteen-year-old girl in Hawick Falls. They also abducted another teenager, Lisa Grant, who lived with my friend Teagan. Noah Cassidy— a detective— and his men found Lisa. Seth was arrested, but Matt got away. He left behind a scrapbook of other missing girls or teens who’d died suspicious deaths.”

“This Matt Hastings is a suspected serial killer,” Liam said in a steely voice, “who now appears to be stalking you?”

“Right.”

“He’s in Barley? Did he live here or did he follow you?”

“We met in Hawick Falls, where we both lived. The police are still trying to find out his true identity and where he’s from.” Her hands dampened. “Like I said, we had an affair. I knew it was wrong and…” She shrugged and her throat closed, ending her explanation.

The hum of the clock on the nightstand filled the moment of awkward silence. She swallowed and, with difficulty, found her voice. “I’ve taken a time out in life to reassess.”

“Luce, you deserve a break.”

His comforting words sent a warm glow through her for a microsecond. “Matt must be in town if he gave me the card. Though no one saw him in the building, and the Barley House doesn’t own surveillance cameras.”

“You’ve had a night from hell. What’s Sullivan doing about the threats?”

“Investigating.” After Sullivan and his men left, she’d cried, sworn she’d spit in Matt’s face if he showed up, and fallen asleep for an hour near sunrise.

Liam sprang to his feet. His hands fisted by his sides. “Okay, are you packed?”

“What?”

“You can’t stay here with that flimsy lock.”

“You sure know how to make a girl feel better.” True, a strong kick to the door, and the chain and bar were history. But where to go? She’d never dreamed Matt would come to Barley.

“Are you getting your clothes?”

She threw a hand toward the closet. “I didn’t unpack.” She’d hoped the police would arrest Ryan’s killer in a day or two and she’d leave. That hope was fading fast.

“We’ll speed through checkout.” He pulled out his phone. “I’ll alert the front desk that you’re leaving. They can send the bill.” When he finished, he opened the sliding mirrored doors.

“Liam, stop. The other hotels near Barley are ten miles away and expensive.” She hated to admit the last part, but she had to be practical. Her finances were limited. “Maybe I’ll head to my job in Manchester.”

He yanked her fleece jacket off the hanger and dragged out her suitcase. “Who said anything about a hotel or leaving? You’re in Barley. We treat our visitors like guests, not stalkees.”

She rose and put her hands on her hips. “Where is this magical place, Liam? I don’t know anyone in town, unless we count a few retired teachers, friends of Gramps, and you. My classmates either moved away or lost touch. I can’t show up on a doorstep and say, ‘Hey, nice to see you again after years of never speaking, writing, or texting. By the way, I’m sleeping in your house.’”

“You’re moving to the Mad Moose. You won’t have to worry about a car.” He held out her jacket. His tight lips hinted he expected no argument.

“Stay at your place?” More bad news. She’d been nervous with him sitting next to her on the bed. At the Moose, he’d be near all the time.

“I’ll sleep downstairs in the office.”

They wouldn’t be sharing an apartment. That would be doable. She wouldn’t be alone either. Liam would be there if she needed help, and a business usually had good locks.

“I’ll work on the heat—”

“There’s no heat?”

“For you, there’s lots.” His eyes locked onto hers.

At the familiar gleam, her resolve weakened. Before she could recover, he took her elbow and guided her to the suitcase he’d put by to the door. His fingers on her arm were strong and insistent.

She had to set him straight. “Liam. I can’t move into your restaurant if you expect something to happen between us.”

“Okay.” He grabbed her bag. “Do we have everything?”

Why had he agreed without a protest? “I’m serious.”

“Got it.”

Why did he keep agreeing so quickly? Why did she feel disappointed? She should be relieved, and leaving the Barley House with its ancient security was too tempting. Here she was alone, imagining each creak of a floorboard was caused by Matt.

“As long as we’re in agreement.” She opened her wallet. “I owe the maid a tip.” No ones. “I need change.”

“Never mind.” He dug in his pocket, brought out a fistful of dollars, dropped them on the desk, and headed for the door and her suitcase. “Don’t forget your breakfast.”

She scooped up the container. “I need to get my toiletries.” She ran into the bathroom and tucked the bag under her arm.

“Set?” he asked when she returned.

“I should go to the police station and find out what’s happening.” Had anyone anywhere seen Matt? A Be on the Lookout, or BOLO, had been issued for him when he’d first disappeared. “I’ll probably be busy meeting with Sullivan, searching for Target, and cleaning my brother’s place.”

“No problem. I’ve lots of vacation days. I’ll drive you.”

His easy answers and her unwanted attraction to him were wearing on her. She would have stamped her foot to emphasize her point and her frustration, but he was already in the hall with her luggage. She followed him. “Liam, this is serious.”

“Luce, I take your safety seriously.” His face hardened. “Later, you can tell me more about the man who’s threatening you, and next time, call me. Ready?”

She could wait a few years for another conversation about Matt, but she had to warn Liam what he was getting himself into. “You should know Matt Hastings is dangerous.”

“I got the idea from what you already told me, and for sure you’re not staying at the Barley House. My truck is out front. C’mon.”

Outside, they jumped in the pickup and drove to the Moose. Had she sounded ungrateful when she’d given him the ‘friends only’ speech? Maybe she’d offended him, and that was why he was acting like everything was not a big deal. No matter his reason, thanks to him, she’d have a safe place to stay.

Yes, the fears and sadness would return, but at least she’d have a brief respite, thanks to Liam. She should show a little more appreciation. “I appreciate your taking me in, and even though I feel like Orphan Annie, I’m going to ask for one more favor. Would you come with me to talk to Chief Sullivan?”

“You got it, but let’s move you in first.” He pulled into his space at the Moose. “I’ll get Chip from the kitchen to carry a few things from the second to the third floor to make room for you.”

Within minutes, she found herself in the apartment above the bar and grill. Her new quarters consisted of three rooms and seemed like a mansion after the Barley House. She wandered into the bedroom. Two windows provided views of the Moose’s parking lot, Dumpsters, and the church on the corner next door. A bed stood beside the wall. A bureau completed the furnishings. In the living room, the guys were hauling boxes onto the enclosed porch.

“What is in the moving boxes?” she asked as Liam carried another one away.

“Stuff I own and don’t seem to use.”

She lingered to take in the contents. Restaurant tables and chairs were piled in heaps between a couch, a chair, and a lamp. Across the street, cars pulled in and out for gas at Gage’s. If she wanted to leave town, she could cross the road and buy a ticket.

In the background loomed the Presidential Range of the White Mountains.

She turned away from the window. The security at the Mad Moose reassured her. Deadbolts protected the Moose’s entrances and the apartment doors upstairs.

She headed into the kitchen that contained the basics: a counter, an electric stove, and a refrigerator packed with cases of beer. She walked into the front room.

“Any chance you have Wi-Fi?” she asked Liam as she returned to the living room.

“We are civilized, Luce. The modem is in my office. The secret password is Morse.”

“Morse the hockey fan, I’ll remember. Did this place use to be a rental?”

“The last tenants left before I became owner.”

“It’s…cozy,” she said, searching for the right word.

Liam grabbed an armful of bar supplies. “Sometimes living upstairs is a little too close. As the old saying goes, you live where you work, you never get away.”

“It’s big for three rooms.” She paused by a painted picture with a pink rosebush in front of a stone doorway. Something about it didn’t look like Liam’s taste. It was too feminine for him. More than likely a woman had bought it, and he’d kept it. His former wife? She pivoted around to him. “When did say you moved here?”

“I rented this apartment when I was married. After the divorce I bought the house and now I’m back at the Moose. For the record, our marriage totaled two weeks before we broke up. We both knew the wedding was a big mistake. The place used to be neater. I’m not sure when it got out of control.”

Chip ambled back to them. “The boss likes to bring up his wedding mistake when guys hold a stag at the Moose.”

“Your story must do a lot for repeat business.” Lucy felt a wave of relief that Liam and his wife hadn’t lived forever in the apartment. But what did she care if they had? She wouldn’t change her mind about him. She’d be leaving Barley ASAP. “Where do I keep my clothes? I don’t need much room.”

“We’ll raid my mother’s storage unit for another bureau after we stop at the police station. My mom inherited her Aunt Tildie’s furniture, and it’s stored with my mom’s’ antiques. Might as well put the stuff to use. Eat your breakfast and we’ll go. Chip can finish up.”

“Looks like lots to carry.” The two men had removed half the cartons.

“I don’t mind,” the boy said.

“Yeah, you shouldn’t. I’m paying you extra. The dishwasher needs emptying before lunch. You can remove the rest of this stash after the noon crowd. Luce, I’ll clear a chair for you. Your food is on the box to your right. You’ll have space on the table once I haul away my belongings.” He grabbed a pair of poles and skis.

Chip scooped up the boots. “Did you hear they took down the online picture of your brother’s funeral?”

“She knows.” Liam’s gruff voice cut him off.

“It’s okay, Liam. Chip, who do the kids think posted it?”

The teen gave a half shrug. “The principal says the police are investigating and when they find out who did it, he’ll suspend the guilty person for hacking into the school website and putting up the image of Mr. Watson’s casket on his teacher’ page.” Chip shook his head. Nobody’s talking.”

“I’m glad it’s gone. Thanks.”

Chip disappeared through the door.

Liam scratched the back of his neck. “The kid has no common sense.”

“I like to stay in touch with what people are saying.”

“As long as you can sort out the gossip from the truth. Okay, Luce, make yourself at home, and I’ll be just a few seconds.”

After he left the room, she let out a breath of stress, sat, and opened her takeout. The giant cinnamon roll was a trademark pastry from the Maple Leaf’s bakery department. The sweet was one of her favorites. Liam had remembered. Happiness flowed through her while her mouth watered.

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