Chapter 29
Carrie
Two Weeks Later. Astoria, OR.
“Carrie?”
I looked up from the order for the school district Read-A-Thon to find Rossy coming up to the checkout counter, in disarray. His glasses were crooked, his gray hair flying in different directions, his eyes wild. There were also two—no three—coffee stains on his cream shirt and his usual vest was missing.
Who the hell was this man, and where was my Rossy?
“Rossy?” I blurted in confusion, tilting my head. “Are you okay?”
A few of the customers gave him a quick glance, but nothing more. My boss waved his hand, brushing off my concern. “I’m positively fine, darling,” he said as he came around the counter, his eyes searching behind his glasses. He moved some things, and I turned to watch him, puzzled.
“Uh, Rossy? Weren’t you wearing those pants yesterday?”
He paused his pursuit, turned, and looked at me. “What do you mean yesterday?”
I stared.
“It’s Saturday,” he stated, gesturing to his pants. “These are my Saturday pants.”
I bit back a chuckle. “Rossy,” I began gently, “it’s Sunday.”
The old man blinked and looked to the coffee bar. Margo was off on Sunday afternoons now due to her school schedule. She’d told Rossy and Sarah she needed at least one afternoon to catch up on her “bullshit homework.”
It’d been an adjustment not having my usual lavender latte during my Sunday shift, but we all made do. Sarah was supposed to cover the coffee bar, but one of the twins caught a stomach bug earlier this week, and she hadn’t been in. So, it was just me and Rossy on this gloomy, cold afternoon, though Rossy was nowhere to be found when Grayson dropped me off this morning, and remained missing well after Margo left. This was the first time I’d seen him today.
“Goodness,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. Then, a sweet chuckle came from him. “That must mean I have something great here.”
My brows furrowed. “Something great?”
He looked at me as if he forgot I was standing there. “Sorry, Carrie. I’ve been—well, I—” He cut himself off, like he was trying to find the right words. I waited patiently as he cleared his throat. “I’ve been writing again.”
My lips spread into a smile. “Writing? Wait—writing again ?”
He nodded, laughing to himself. “I don’t know how it happened. Last night, I was getting ready to close the shop, and an idea hit me. I sat down to write it and, well, here we are.”
“That’s great,” I praised him.
Rossy gave a warm smile and put a hand on my shoulder. “Thank you, darling. I’m very excited about it.” His hand fell, and he gestured to the mess of office supplies behind him. “I came in search of the printer paper. I ran out of my private stash.”
I winced. “Yeah, we’ve been out since Thursday.”
He nodded. “That’s alright; I’ll go out and get some.”
My eyes dropped to his coffee-stained shirt. “How about I go? You stay and man the counter? We’ve been pretty slow today.”
His eyes followed mine. “I’ve gotten carried away, haven’t I?”
I moved passed him and grabbed my coat. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, Rossy.”
Once I was outside, the cold air hit me, but I was thankful the snow was melting. The warmer weather would be here in just a few months, and fishing season would be back in full swing. As I made my way down the sidewalk, I looked across the street, peering in between the building to where the docks were.
It had been a few weeks since Leo’s death, and the whole town assumed he was missing at sea. Grayson and I knew the truth. Sarah didn’t ask me too much about it, which was surprising. Even more surprising was Michael hadn’t questioned me about Leo’s disappearance. Grayson had told me he’d take care of it, but now, I was beginning to worry how, exactly, he took care of Michael.
On that thought, I pulled out my phone and shot a text to Grayson.
Me: Had to step out for Rossy.
Grayson: I know. I’m watching.
Last week, Grayson turned on the tracker in my phone, and when I wasn’t with him, he was watching me. I figured any other woman would be freaked out by that, but not me. It made me feel safe even when he wasn’t around. The day after, he left for Seattle for two days. He called me multiple times a day and stayed on the phone with me until I fell asleep at night. When he came home, I’d been in the shower, and he joined me, fucking me against the wall with a sense of unhinged urgency.
He hadn’t even taken his jeans off.
Things were good between us.
I was happy, and so was he.
Grayson and his team at Red Snake Investigations were looking into Robert, deeper than they had before, and the more they dug, the more worried I became. My dead husband had definitely been hiding something, and I was starting to think he was involved with the nightmare my father had been wrapped up in.
Trafficking.
Grayson and his boys told me not to worry. As for the woman, I hadn’t seen her in weeks, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t there, watching me. Jake had hacked into the Astoria traffic cameras, and after hours of watching footage, he caught a glimpse of the mystery woman. It was right before Thanksgiving, and she had been walking down the street, carrying a bag.
There was no telling if she was the one who’d written those notes. The only thing for certain that whoever had been leaving them was scared of Grayson. Since he returned, I hadn’t received a single one.
But that didn’t mean it was over.
I sent Grayson one more text as I got to the General Store, my heart pounding from the brisk walk, my cheeks hot.
Me: I can’t wait to be home with you.
I pulled the door open as I dropped my phone back into my coat pocket and was greeted with a whoosh of hot air. I unzipped my coat and gave a small wave to the owners behind the counter; Jimmy and Martha. They were nice people; I’d met them at Rossy’s Thanksgiving dinner a few months ago. Martha was Margie’s sister , who owned the famous Margie’s.
“Hey, Carrie,” Jimmy called, his weathered voice struggling to carry across the space.
“Hey, Jim!” I headed for the back of the store, where the office supplies were. It was a small section, tucked into the back corner, and only consisted of two shelves. Looking around, I noticed I was the only one here, which wasn’t surprising. Astoria was usually quiet on Sundays.
“The bookstore quiet today?” Jimmy called as I made my way through the aisles.
“Well, it is Sunday,” I teased.
“Sundays are my favorite,” he told me, chuckling a bit. “You need help finding anything, dear?”
“No, thank you. Rossy needs more printer paper,” I told him over my shoulder. I rounded the corner, passing the cleaning supplies, and came face to face with a wall of pens and pencils.
I spotted the paper on the bottom shelf and bent to grab a stack as I heard the door open, the bell signaling a new customer. I heard Jimmy greet the customer as I rose, tucking the packages of paper under the crook of my arm before turning on my heel to head to the front. I was about halfway there when a man stepped in front of me, cutting off my path.
I skidded to a halt before I ran into him.
He was tall, but not as tall as Grayson, and certainly not as fit. His height and his beer gut were the only things I could make out about him, given the dark coat and baseball cap he wore. He wasn’t paying any attention to me, though. I muttered an excuse me and squeezed around him, letting him continue his search for the right brand of ketchup.
I was about halfway down the next aisle when a hand covered my mouth, and I was suddenly yanked back. The paper fell from my arms as I tried to flee, but he was quicker.
The man’s body was pressed against my back then, his arm wrapped around my middle, pinning my arms to my sides, his fingernails digging into the arm of my coat. Immediately, fear had me in its grip, squeezing my neck, cutting off my airway. Nausea bloomed in my stomach, and my chest tightened as I felt his hot breath on the shell of my ear. “You’re a little chunkier than I’d thought you’d be, but that shouldn’t be a problem.”
Asshole.
I jerked against his hold, screaming into his hand as his arm tightened around me, crushing the bottom of my ribcage. He turned us, surging forward until my body slammed into the shelves, the entire unit shaking. “Need ya to hold still for a minute,” he grunted, pushing his hips into my butt. The arm banded around my mid-section loosened, and I took my opportunity, rearing my head back with growl.
The back of my skull slammed against his chin, pain splintering through my head.
I winced as he let out a startled grunt, his upper body jerking away from mine. Adrenaline surged through my veins as I put my hands on the shelves and shoved, pushing him off me. I heard him stumble back and crash into something. Without turning, I bolted, heading for the front of the store, my feet pounding against the tile as my curls flew behind me.
“Jimmy!” I shouted. “Jimmy, help!”
I came to the front of the store, surrounded by bins of produce to find Jimmy’s eyes wide as he came around the counter. “Carrie! Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
He raised his hands to reach for me, but a gunshot sliced through the air.
Screaming, I whirled to find the man shooting at Jimmy. I looked back to the counter to find Martha emerging from the tiny front office in a rush. We both watched in horror as blood flew from Jimmy’s leg and he collided with the floor, multiple bones cracking as he went down.
Martha jumped forward, only caring for her husband. I screamed again. “Martha, no!”
She ignored me, still moving. “No! Jimmy—”
Another shot rang out, and I dove for the floor. I looked up to find Martha staggering back, blood streaming from her shoulder now, staining her cream sweater. Gasping, she fell backwards, hitting the tile behind the counter with a thud. My eyes sliced to Jimmy’s. He was just an old man. His wrinkled face was twisted in pain, the blood stain on his leg growing by the second.
“Jimmy!” I cried, scrambling to crawl to him.
“Oh, no you don’t.” A hand wrapped around my ankle, and I was dragged back. Instead of trying to crawl away from him, I reached into my pocket.
Grayson. I had to call Grayson.
I yanked the phone out of my pocket, my fingers quivering as I unlocked the screen. The man was pulling me out of sight now, away from the windows. If anyone had been walking by, they would’ve heard the gunshots, but I couldn’t rely on that hope alone.
A sharp pain shot through the back of my head, and then the man’s boot was in front of my face, stomping on my wrist, holding my arm in place. I cried out in agony, trying to pull my arm free as his weight crushed my bones. My hand released the phone, and he quickly snatched it up, tossing it somewhere I couldn’t see. A crash sounded in the distance as he kicked me in the face.
“You stupid bitch,” he snarled, fisting my hair and yanking me up. He dragged me into the next aisle and threw me back against the shelf. Head pounding, I looked up at him, shaking in fear. My vision was blurred but I could see his finger pointed at me as he towered over me. “You need to fucking listen to me, or you’ll be dead before I can get my fucking payday.”
“Who are you?”
The man ripped off his hat, revealing brown hair, a straight nose, and a mildly handsome face. A face that seemed all too familiar. If I wasn’t about to die, I might have thrown up. “R-Robert?” I whispered, blinking as my vision began to clear.
I was seeing a ghost.
This had to be a dream, right? Some horrible nightmare, my demons crawling their way back to the surface just to torture me. I shifted, fisting my hands so my nails could dig into my palms.
The man slowly tilted his head to the side, giving me a sinister smile that made goosebumps skate across my skin. “Do I look familiar to you, Carrie?” he hissed, dropping down to his haunches in front of me as he pulled a syringe from his coat.
My eyes dropped to it. “Robert? What the—”
“Damn, I must’ve kicked you a little too hard, huh?” He chuckled. “I’m Brandon, you stupid whore.”
I shook my head. “I don’t—who?”
The cocky smile fell from his face then, anger taking over. He scoffed. “So big bro didn’t tell his fat little wife about me? Figures.”
“Robert didn’t have siblings,” I said in disbelief.
Brandon shot me a look. “He didn’t tell you a lot of things.” He sighed and shrugged. “I’ll tell you what, before you leave this Earth, I’ll tell you all the things Robert forgot to mention.”
In a flash, his hand shot out, gripping my hair as he yanked my head back, bit off the lid to the needle and spit it out. “I’ll start with this,” he began, bringing the needle to the sensitive skin of my neck. He leaned closer, the smell of tobacco on his breath, his eyes filled with hatred.
“Robert never fucking loved you.”
I felt a prick in my neck, and before I could get a word out, I began to fade.
As everything went black, Grayson’s voice echoed in my mind.
“I love you more than anything else in this world.”