Chapter 1 – Kenzie Hurst
Chapter One
Kenzie Hurst
Garnet Bend. Population 2518.
I gritted my teeth as I drove by the sign outside the tiny town that was about to become my home.
Temporary home.
Temporary . Please, God, please, please, please: temporary.
Because I was a city girl. Hadn’t ever seen the appeal of small communities—no live theater, no Michelin star restaurants, no bustle.
Hell, I was probably the only person on the planet who found Hallmark movies unbearable.
There was always a pumpkin patch or a dog or a run-down bed-and-breakfast that someone’s great-aunt—that sneaky little matchmaker—had left her in the will. And a good ol’ boy who’d lived next door all his life and could help her fix it up.
No shirt. Tight jeans. Tool belt.
Okay, maybe that part wasn’t so bad. I mean, who didn’t like a sexy shirtless guy with a tool belt?
And the bed-and-breakfast part wasn’t so bad either. After all, I was a Realtor, so I could definitely see the appeal of that sort of property .
But the rest of it? Not for me.
And a town so small that it needed to make sure to include the eighteen in the 2,518 population sign?
That felt pretty damn small.
I officially hated Garnet Bend.
Okay, that wasn’t fair. I hadn’t even made it all the way into the town yet. But I definitely hated why I was here.
I hated that I had as many of my belongings as I could fit inside this car and the rest stored in the basement of my parents’ house.
Beethoven’s Fifth blasted from my phone, and my heart stopped at the ringtone, my hands gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles were white.
I hated that any sort of sudden noise or movement put me in near panic mode too.
I reached down and hit the speaker button on the phone.
Hated that it wasn’t my regular phone.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hey, sweetie. Did you make it?”
“Just arriving.” I knew my mother wanted to know exactly where I was, but she knew I couldn’t tell her. Police orders.
How I felt about that?
Well, I was starting to see a pattern there.
“Is it okay? Dad and I don’t like this. We don’t like not knowing where you are.”
“I know, Mom. But it’s going to be fine.”
My parents knew only the very basics of what had been happening. They knew there was trouble. They knew I’d had to leave Denver because of what had been going on.
But I’d been careful to keep the worst of it from them.
The night terrors. The constant looking over my shoulder. The fact that I could barely eat—and definitely couldn’t focus.
The knowledge that I worried every day might be my last. Which seemed so melodramatic but was true.
So, I was here in Garnet Bend, with all 2,518 of its inhabitants, hoping I could get my life back.
“Are you sure you can’t tell me where you are? You know Dad and I would never tell a soul.”
“Not right now.” I slowed my car to an acceptable speed so I could glance around the main strip as I drove through town. “It’s for your own safety. Detective Watters said no one could know.”
Garnet Bend seemed to have all the basics—grocery store, general store, and most importantly, a coffee shop. So, maybe I would survive.
I had to admit, the backdrop of mountains and wide-open space as far as the eye could see was truly mesmerizing—especially with the last of the fall leaves barely hanging on as winter started to close in. It looked like something out of a painting.
“It’s pretty here,” I continued when she didn’t respond to my last statement. That meant she was perturbed. I didn’t blame her; I wasn’t a fan either.
Because even with the gorgeous setting, it still wasn’t home.
Not that I didn’t like mountains. Denver— home —had them all around. But Denver also had skyscrapers and ten-lane highways and tons of people milling around everywhere—all ignoring each other.
“I still don’t like it,” Mom said finally.
“It’s just temporary, okay? Let’s stay positive.” I was using the last of my positive reserves just saying that. Normally, I wasn’t a pessimist—the opposite, in fact—but I couldn’t find much positive in me right now. Thus, the hatefest that had been circling my mind all day.
“I just want you safe, sweetie.”
“Me too. Detective Watters said this is the best thing to do until the situation is handled. ”
“I know, but?—”
“Let me call you back in a little while, okay?” I knew where this conversation was heading and needed to stop it while I could. “I have an appointment.”
“What kind of appointment?”
I cringed. One with the police chief. Telling Mom that would not get her off the phone. “Just some settling-in stuff.”
“Okay. We’ll talk to you soon. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
“Be safe.”
I disconnected the call. Safe . Something I had taken for granted my whole life and now was all I could think about.
Would Garnet Bend actually be the safe place Detective Watters implied? Surely I was going to stick out as a stranger. Obviously, all 2,518 people sat around and studied one another, so they’d know if an outsider was in their midst.
I let out a sigh at my own ridiculousness.
But still… I couldn’t work here. I’d spent the past five years building my reputation as a commercial real estate agent, then had found a particular talent for developing seminars teaching others the nuances of the business.
I regularly taught workshops with more people in attendance than lived in all of Garnet Bend.
Stopping at a red light, I looked more closely at the town. Old-fashioned streetlamps lined the sidewalks, trash receptacles had been placed in prime traffic areas, and the businesses were nicely spaced and seemed to be thriving. Everything looked inviting and clean. Honestly, a Realtor’s dream.
A brief friendly honk behind me—not the loud blare I would’ve gotten in Denver, so one point to Garnet Bend—jarred me out of my assessment. I looked up, noticing the light had turned green. Cringing, I lifted my hand in apology. “Sorry!”
Squaring my shoulders and taking a deep breath, I proceeded ahead to my destination, turning into a small parking lot as it came up on my right. This was the reason I was in Garnet Bend in the first place.
Trying to stay safe from the stalker who’d decided to make my life hell.
My fist made its way to my stomach, trying to rub away the ball of stress formed there. I knew firsthand if I didn’t get it to ease now, it would worsen and turn into nausea and blind panic.
It was already starting. My eyes darted around the parking lot. Looking for…what exactly, I didn’t know.
And that was the problem: the not knowing.
It was a terrifying thought—that someone even now might be watching me, learning my habits, and lying in wait. But what they were waiting for, I had no clue.
I tried my best to be aware of my surroundings, stay visible when I was out, and never be the last person to leave anywhere or walk alone.
But still, I jumped at every sound, tensed when a stranger came close, and I suspected everyone. Every time I walked to my door or opened my mailbox, the possibility of something ugly always lurked in the shadows.
Really ugly. My stalker had made sure I knew that.
For weeks, anxiety had taken up residence in my stomach. It knotted now, spreading uneasiness through me even though I was safe in my vehicle. The toast and coffee I’d had for breakfast churned uncomfortably. I took a few deep breaths, hoping to keep it down.
I was not meeting the first people in my new hometown with vomit on me.
“Just get to the appointment.” I swallowed hard, my mouth dry from the tension and stress of seeing strangers nearby. “One step at a time.”
Detective Watters was friends with the police chief here in Garnet Bend, which was how we’d decided this was where I would lie low since things had… escalated with my stalker last week.
Escalated . Such a benign word for blood being splattered on your home’s walls.
But yes, a formal check-in with the police here was necessary, Watters said. Let them know who I was. It would make me feel more comfortable.
Comfort had been foreign to me for nearly four months. Somehow, I didn’t think showing up here was going to make me instantly warm and cozy.
As soon as I opened my door, my stress ratcheted up. It was only a few dozen feet from my parking spot to the door, but I was über aware of my own vulnerability. Aware of what could be done to me.
My body was prepared for attack, on heightened alert. Which sounded all heroic, but it was really just exhausting.
I relaxed only slightly when I made it through the door. Not that I was truly much safer here, but I at least felt that way.
The police building wasn’t big, but it seemed to employ about eighteen of the town’s 2,518 residents. A few officers, assistants, secretaries.
The woman behind a counter closest to the door smiled at me. “How may I help you today?”
I stepped forward with a small wave. “I’m here to speak to the police chief. I have an appointment.”
“That’d be me,” a voice said from my left. “Charlie Garcia, at your service. Nice to meet you in person, Ms. Hurst.” His voice was gruff, but his smile was polite, like it had been when Detective Watters and I had spoken to him on the phone a few days ago.
He gestured to the younger man standing next to him. “This is Lachlan Callaway, one of our deputies here in Garnet Bend. I’ve filled him in with the details of your case.”
I shook both men’s hands. “Kenzie, please. Thanks for meeting with me.”
Charlie turned toward the hallway. “Let’s go to my office. Lachlan was just heading out, but I’d like to go over some of the details with you.”
Deputy Callaway tipped his head in my direction. “Don’t hesitate to call if you need us while you’re here. Even if it seems trivial.”
That was such a refreshing change from my first meetings with the police in Denver. “Thank you.”
The deputy left and Chief Garcia led me the rest of the way to his office, closing the wooden door behind him.
I tensed at the sound of the click behind me. It sounded so final. I had to tamp down my panic. I was in a police station, for crying out loud. Nothing was going to happen here.
“Ben—Detective Watters—sent the file from your case,” Chief Garcia started. “And, of course, we talked about some of it on the phone.”
I hated this too. That strangers—even people like Chief Garcia and Deputy Callaway both who seemed professional and caring—were privy to private information about my life. The stalker hadn’t just stripped me of my sense of safety, but my privacy too.
I cleared my throat. “I’m sure it’s all there, Chief Garcia.”
“Charlie, please.” He smiled quickly, but it didn’t seem forced.
He opened the file, one of dozens sitting on his desk. The older man obviously hadn’t switched over to electronic filing. As he looked through it, he asked me a few questions, all of which I could answer almost automatically now.
Every police officer wanted to hear the story in my own words. Why, I didn’t exactly know. To make sure I hadn’t left anything out? To make sure I wasn’t making things up? To help me tell it so many times that my brain could shut off and protect itself ?
Charlie jotted down notes as I spoke and at least never made me feel like I was seeking attention with all this. Which was better than some of the early law enforcement officers I’d talked to.
“They haven’t come up with an answer as to how your stalker has been locating you, correct?”
“No. I haven’t been staying at my house for weeks, but he—she?—still keeps finding me.”
“We’ll refer to the stalker as a male for right now. That fits the profile.”
“Detective Watters decided it might be best for me to stop work completely and leave the state while they try to handle things from there,” I said when Charlie ran out of questions. “So, here I am in Montana. Hopefully, very short-term.”
“Regardless of how long you intend to stay, I will do my best to ensure your safety. We look after our own here.”
“All twenty-five hundred and eighteen of them?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Yes. And you too.”
“Thanks.” I wasn’t ever going to be one of theirs , but his words soothed me just the same. He wasn’t dismissing me or what had happened. That was the most important thing. “I’m going to go get my stuff moved in, if that’s okay.”
Charlie stood, and we walked back out into the main section of the building. “Detective Watters mentioned you were moving in to the Haven apartment complex.” I nodded.
“That’s a nice place,” the lady who’d greeted me at the front counter said, not at all ashamed of eavesdropping.
“Maryann is right.” Charlie nodded. “It’s a secure location and in a safe part of town.”
Now, my eyebrow rose. “Do you have a bad section in a town this size?”
Charlie smiled. “Every size town can have problems, and we’ve had our share. But you’re right. There’s not one section that’s better or worse than another, for the most part. ”
“Except for those Resting Warrior Ranch ruffians. At least she’s not on that side of town.”
“The Resting Warrior Ranch Ruffians? Is that like a sports team?” I literally had no idea what we were talking about.
Charlie’s belly laugh was contagious. “No, no. We have a group of former Navy SEALs who run a ranch facility just outside of town, helping people with PTSD and whatnot.”
I looked between Maryann and Charlie. “That makes them ruffians?”
“Oh no,” Charlie continued when Maryann rolled her eyes. “They’re good guys. Although they used to be a little rowdy, which Maryann obviously hasn’t forgiven. Most of them have settled down now and are married or well on their way.”
“Well, I don’t plan on spending much time with Navy SEALs turned ranchers, so I think we’ll be okay.”
“It’s actually good to have them nearby. I’ll be able to reach out to them for an extra layer of protection, if needed. They owe me one…or ten,” he finished with a huge grin on his face. “I may share some details of the case with them, if that’s okay.”
I tried to force a smile onto my face. I hated the idea of having more strangers all up in my business. “Hopefully, that won’t be necessary. But if it is, that’s fine. Meanwhile, I’ll just be lying low. Going to leave here, go straight to the apartment, and hopefully you won’t hear from me again until Detective Watters lets me know it’s safe to come home.”
“How about if you check in each day via text or email on that burner phone of yours, so I know you’re okay.”
I’d already given him the info. “Sure. But beyond that, I’ll be pretty scarce.”
Charlie crossed his arms over his chest. “No need to stay hidden. We’re a friendly bunch around here.”
I shrugged. “No offense, Chief, but I’m not here to make friends. I just want to keep to myself.”
Charlie and Maryann shot each other a look. No doubt it was a c ity-bitch-lady alert .
I wasn’t trying to be unfriendly; I really wasn’t. Hell, I worked with people day in and day out—real estate wasn’t a job for a shrinking violet. I was known for being friendly.
But not now. Not here. I didn’t have it in me. “I’m just here to lie low.”
Charlie nodded. “Which is a smart idea. Better safe than sorry. But be careful that this place doesn’t grow on you. It’s been known to happen.”
Not a chance. I was a city girl through and through and wasn’t about to become resident 2,519.
I smiled. “I’ll just stay hidden in my apartment so I’m not seduced by Garnet Bend’s many charms.”
Maryann shot me a smile now that I wasn’t disparaging her beloved town. I waved goodbye and headed out. I really just wanted to get into my apartment and get settled. I already had the key.
I looked around before leaving the safety of the doorway, unable to walk the few feet to my car without ascertaining if threats were afoot.
Even though, I’d learned the hard way that I could look all I wanted and still not see the threat about to attack me. I had some scars to prove that.
I finally forced myself to go, gritting my teeth the whole way. Sliding in the driver’s seat of my beloved Subaru eased some of the tension. I always felt safer in here.
“Okay. No more people. No more anything. Let’s just get settled.”
I turned the key. Nothing.
Again. And again. Nothing. Damn it .
“Oh, come on.”
No matter how many times I tried it, the engine wouldn’t turn over. I tried one final time, and with a putter and growl, it finally started.
Charlie jogged up to me, squinting as the cold breeze chilled his face. He must’ve been watching from the door.
I quickly rolled down the window, suppressing a shiver. “It was just struggling to start.”
He cringed. “Damn. Don’t know much about cars, but it may be the alternator. You’ll want to get that taken care of right now. Having a drivable car is important in your situation.”
“Is there anywhere in town, or do I need to go somewhere else?”
“There’s a garage down the street. The new owner is a friend of the Resting Warrior Ranch guys. He’s honest, and you can trust him.”
I wasn’t sure I felt like I could trust any stranger right now, but what choice did I have? It wasn’t like I could walk around in this weather. And if I had to leave in a hurry…
“Yeah, okay. I’ll give the ruffian wannabe a shot.” My insides twisted at the thought, but I plastered a small smile on my face.
Charlie laughed and gave me directions to the garage, then retreated back inside the station, out of the cold.
I followed Charlie’s directions, swallowing my frustration. Moving anywhere always came with hiccups. I knew that. I’d coached residential real estate clients through the headaches of relocating many times. Had done the same with commercial real estate clients from time to time too.
This was just a hiccup.
But why did it feel like an omen?