Plain Protector

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“I called on a disposable phone.”

Silence stretched across the line. “Jimmy came here the other day.”

Sarah’s heart jackhammered in her chest. “What did he want?” You, stupid, stupid girl! Suddenly the phone felt like a hot coal in her hand. What if he tracked her down here? How? It was a disposable phone.

Jimmy was resourceful.

She looked up at the lavender walls of the small downstairs half bath. She’d have to run again. This time farther away. Away from her mother.

“Jimmy acted like he was checking up on me, seeing if I needed anything—boy, that man could charm a lollipop from a baby—but I knew better. He was fishing around to see if I knew where you were. Same as he’s done the other times he’s swung by the house on the guise of checking up on me.”

Sarah pressed the phone tighter to her ear, her racing pulse making it more difficult to hear. “What did you tell him?” Sarah’s mouth grew dry as she anticipated her mother’s answer. They had rehearsed before Sarah left as to what her mother should say or do, but Sarah constantly worried that her mother’s illness, medication or just a plain old slip of the tongue would jeopardize her location.

Sarah knew she was being irrational, but having someone mess with your mind for two years straight had forced an otherwise sane girl to consider every crazy scenario.

Her mother started coughing again, but regained her composure more quickly this time. “I told him what we agreed upon. Again. That you had a job opportunity in California. Lord, forgive me for lying, but I do it to keep you safe.”

“I imagine he’s pressing you for an address. A phone number.”

“I told him it was best if he moved on now.”

Sarah could imagine Jimmy’s reaction when he was told to give up on something. Jimmy Braeden wasn’t a quitter. Or one who liked to lose. And losing Sarah had come as a huge blow to his ego.

“Mom, there’s no way Jimmy believes I moved to California for a job. Not when you’re not feeling well.” Not feeling well. That was an understatement. “He’s going to keep pushing.” Maybe they should have come up with a different story.

Jimmy would never stop looking for her. That much she knew for sure. Knees feeling weak, Sarah grabbed the towel bar and lowered herself onto the closed toilet lid. She reached forward and turned the lock on the bathroom door.

One swift nudge with a strong shoulder would send the door into splinters. How pitiful. She had locked herself into the bathroom of the home where she lived alone.

“I’m sorry I’m not there for you.” Sarah fought to keep the tears from her voice.

“I’m managing fine.”

Sarah cleared her throat. “What did the doctor say last time you were there?”

She envisioned her mom waving her hand in dismissal. “Oh, the same as always. If I believed everything they told me, I’d be buried next to your father already.”

Cold dread pooled in Sarah’s stomach. She feared her mother would never tell her the truth when it came to her prognosis.

Sarah traced the round edge of the brass door handle. “Maybe it’s time I came home.”

“I’m fine.” Her mother’s forced cheeriness sounded shrill. They both knew Sarah returning to Buffalo would only add more stress to her mother’s already stressed life. And they both knew Jimmy was a violent man who had the backing of his brothers in uniform—both in Orchard Gardens where he worked and his fellow cops in nearby Buffalo. All the cops seemed to know each other. Yet, Sarah couldn’t fault the men. Jimmy was a great liar and friend, when he wasn’t beating up his girlfriend. She didn’t blame his fellow cops for being deceived. Hadn’t she been? When Sarah tried to make a report, Jimmy’s own mother gave him an alibi. Then the rumors began when Sarah showed up at the station with a black eye.

Sarah had been out drinking and picked up the wrong guy. Now to save face, she’s trying to blame it on Officer Braeden because they just went through a bad breakup.

It was then that she knew she’d never get justice. And if she valued her life and her mother’s peace of mind, she had to leave.

Sarah pulled off a strip of toilet paper and wiped her nose. “Maybe you and I can go off somewhere. Somewhere where Jimmy can’t find us.”

“Sarah... Sarah...” her mother said, in her familiar soothing voice that made Sarah’s chest ache with nostalgia. “We’ve been through all this. I need to stay close to my doctors. And I like my home. Tending the garden.” I want to be in my own bed when I die. Her mother didn’t say it, but it was implied.

Sarah swallowed around the knot of emotion in her throat.

“Have you made any friends where you are? Someone you can trust?”

Nick’s kind smile floated to mind. “It’s hard, Mom. I don’t know who I can trust.” However, Sarah had confided in Nick’s sister, but Christina was bound by doctor-patient confidentiality. And sweet, Amish Mary Ruth would never understand her new friend’s predicament.

And Sarah didn’t trust her own decision-making skills. She had been wrong—so very wrong—before.

“You need to stay safe,” her mom said, her voice cracking. “Please, I love you.”

“I love you, too, Mom. I’ll stay here.”

“That’s my girl. Go and save the world.” Her mother liked to tout that her only daughter was always looking for ways to help people. Too bad Sarah didn’t know how to help herself.

THREE (#ulink_d2d01b8a-6c56-5334-bfc5-2a2b729ff939)

The next morning, Nick grabbed two large coffees—one black, one double cream, double sugar—and headed to his sister’s clinic. When he arrived, the first rays of sun were poking over the full foliage of the trees. He could already tell it was going to be a scorcher today. They were in the dog days of summer, and in a few short months, everyone would be grumbling about the snow and cold.

He glanced at the clock on his dash. The clinic didn’t open for another thirty minutes, but he knew his sister would already be doing paperwork and preparing for the day. Both he and his sister were workaholics in jobs that served the public. Nick always figured that had a lot to do with their upbringing, the children of two entrepreneurs who made and lost their first fortune before they were thirty-five and made it again by forty. The second time was a keeper.

All the children could have gone into the family business—only their younger sister Kelly had—and continued to live a life of privilege, but instead Christina and Nick seemed determined to save the world. Their parents, although wealthy and living lives unimaginable by most, had been philanthropists and had made things like Christina’s health-care clinic possible. Linda and John Jennings were well respected in Apple Creek even though they only touched down at their home base once or twice a year.

Nick went around back to the alley and found his sister’s car parked next to the back door. He tried the handle, but found it locked. He was relieved. Christina was a smart, compassionate doctor and street savvy. Even in small towns, addicts and other low-life criminals sought out drugs from whatever source they could find them. He was glad his sister took her safety seriously.

Juggling the stacked coffees in one hand, he pulled out his cell phone and texted Christina.

At back door

A few seconds later the door opened. Christina initially looked like she was going to scold him for bothering her this early, but when her eyes landed on the coffee, a bright smile crossed her features.

Christina was his little sister, younger by three years. The two of them grew up in Apple Creek and mostly only had each other and Kelly as playmates on their parents’ sprawling estate. Their mom and dad, both self-employed, could work from anywhere, and when Nick, Christina and Kelly were young, they decided the tranquility of Apple Creek was as good a place as any to build a home.

“Double cream, double sugar?” Christina reached out with the look of a woman in need of a caffeine fix.

“Of course. First coffee of the day?”

“Yes, I usually wait until the office staff comes in to start the coffeemaker.”

Christina stepped back, allowing her brother entry into the clinic. She peeled back the brown lid from the takeout coffee and inhaled the scent.

“You really love that stuff.”

Christina laughed. “Love is a strong word.” She took a long sip with her eyes closed, then lifted them to study him. “What brings you here bright and early, big brother?” She held up her hand. “Oh, let me guess. Does it have anything to do with a pretty, petite blonde who got three stitches in her forehead last night?”

“Am I that transparent?” A corner of his mouth quirked up.

“I’m your sister. You’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve.”

“This has nothing to do with my heart.”

Christina arched a skeptical brow. “Really?” She put the coffee down and sat on the corner of her desk and crossed her arms over her chest.

“I know you can’t break doctor-patient confidentiality.”

“But you’re hoping I might?”

“No, but is there something I need to know? To protect her.”

Christina laughed. “Right. You’re looking for an excuse to talk to her again. I don’t blame you. It’s been, what...a year or so since you and Amber went your separate ways.”

Just the mention of the name Amber sent Nick’s mood spiraling into the depths of the foulest garbage dump. He and Amber had met five years ago at a Christmas party at his parents’ home. They hit it off and had been inseparable until Nick was deployed. Turned out, Amber wasn’t the kind to wait. Turned out, Amber and someone—Troy or Trey or something like that—were secretly dating behind his back.

Amber sent him a Dear John letter while he was still deployed. It was like getting punched while dodging IEDs.

“Yeah, do me a favor, don’t mention Amber.” Nick hadn’t dated anyone seriously since. He didn’t trust his instincts. He had thought Amber was the one. Turns out so did Troy/Trey. They were married a few months ago at the country club. Their wedding had been featured prominently on the front page of the LifeStyle section of the newspaper. Nick suspected Amber loved money more than him, and when she realized he wasn’t going to follow in his parents’ footsteps, she decided she had better find another meal ticket.

The coffee roiled in his gut. How had he not seen through Amber?

Christina pushed off her desk and turned around to fumble with some neatly stacked papers. He knew his sister well enough to know she was struggling to decide how much to tell him about Sarah.

Nick respected her job, the need for confidentiality. But he’d also hate to ignore his instincts on this one. Sure, his dating instincts were terrible, but his law enforcement instincts were usually spot-on.

Sarah was afraid of something. More than a rock thrown through the basement window.

Christina picked up a clipboard and held it close to her chest. “You might want to pay Sarah a visit. You could tell her you’re following up from last night. I think she needs someone to talk to.”

He studied his sister closely.

“And hey, maybe you could ask her out for dinner.”

Nick’s head jerked back. “I’m done with women with secrets.”

Christina pinned him with her gaze. “You’re going to have to get over Amber.”

“I’m over her.”

Christina didn’t say anything, suggesting she doubted him. “Then, go out and visit Sarah. Maybe you’ll surprise yourself.”

“I don’t make a habit of asking crime victims out on a date.”

Christina touched his arm. “Will you please get over yourself? We live in a small town. If an attractive young woman happens to move here, there’s nothing wrong with asking her out on a date.”

Nick felt flustered in only the way a little sister could fluster a big brother. “I didn’t come out here to ask you for dating advice. I came as a sheriff’s deputy to ask you if there’s something I should know about our newest resident.”

Christina frowned. “And you know full well I couldn’t tell you.” With both her hands planted on his chest, she shoved him playfully toward the door. He put one hand on the lid of his coffee to prevent it from spilling.

Nick stepped out onto the pavement of the back alley, the sun now above the trees. Christina held the door open with her shoulder. She tapped the metal trim on the bottom of the door with her black loafers. “Sarah could use a friend.”

Nick studied his sister’s face. Christina was the only one who truly got him. He smiled. “Go finish your coffee before it gets cold.”

A shrill buzz sounded from inside the clinic. Someone was at the front door. “Looks like duty calls.”

“Have a good day, little sis.”

“You, too. Be safe.”

Nick waved and watched as the door slammed shut. Instinctively he tested the lock, making sure his sister was secure in the clinic. He knew he couldn’t protect everyone at all times...but he’d sure try.

The image of Sarah’s pretty face filled his mind. His gut told him she was in need of protecting.

* * *

Sarah flipped back the covers on her purple-and-pink bedspread with oversize tulips and gazed around her childhood bedroom. She glanced down at her favorite Holly Hobbie nightgown and ran her hand along its soft fabric. Even in her dream, Sarah knew she was dreaming. She turned her gaze to the corner. Her dolly was tucked under a quilt her mother had made in a crib her father had taken special pride in crafting.

Sarah had had a charmed childhood. Until that fateful day...

Sarah’s dreaming self flipped her legs over the edge of the bed and swung them, trying to take it all in. Trying to memorize every detail of this dream. Hoping her father would come in to kiss her goodnight. To say their evening prayers together.

Feelings of warmth and nostalgia made her smile.

Sarah stretched her legs and curled her toes into the shag rug shaped in the form of a rainbow. She loved that rug. She had spent countless hours with her dollies on that rug pretending they lived in a retro 70s apartment.

Bang! Bang!

Still dreaming, Sarah snapped her attention to the closed bedroom door.

Thud...thud...thud.

Sarah rolled over, consciousness seeping into her dream world. She cracked her eyes open a slit, and a stream of sunshine slipped in through the edge of the white roller shades. Her Amish-made quilt was pretty, but not the same as her childhood favorite. The quilt had slid off the edge of her bed during her fitful dreams. She blinked a few times, trying to recall the last one. The warm fuzziness of it. The return to her childhood.

She smiled and stretched. Talking to her mom last night had made for some vivid dreams. She was surprised she had even slept. She had tossed and turned for hours, until finally getting up around four in the morning. She had gone downstairs, got a glass of water and written in her journal a bit. Her journal kept her sanity, allowing her to empty her mind of her worst fears and worries. Allowing her mind to quiet so she could drift off to sleep.

Sighing, Sarah swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Her toes touched the smooth wood of the pine floor. Nothing to curl her toes into. Maybe she’d buy herself an area rug. Undoubtedly the Apple Creek General Store probably didn’t carry what she was looking for. The market for 70s shag here in Apple Creek was slim to nonexistent.