Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
WREN
"I'm going to the post office," Dad called out.
"Okay," I called back. "I'm almost done here. I'll lock up behind me."
"Thanks, sweetie." The door closed behind him with a jingle.
I sat up and rubbed my back. I'd just finished putting the last touches on the engagement ring. I rolled my chair away from my desk and opened a drawer in a cabinet that sat against the wall.
I reached in, felt around for a moment and pulled out a ring box.
I snapped it open and fitted the ring into the groove.
I shut the box and pushed myself to my feet, to walk the three or four steps to the safe in the corner.
Tapping the combination on the keypad beside it, I eased it open and placed the ring box inside.
It would suck to do all that work and then have it stolen.
The bell on the door tinkled again.
"I'm coming," I shouted out.
Under my breath I added, "Don't steal anything before I get there."
Everything was under lock and key, so the only way they could steal anything would be to smash and grab. I listened, but heard no sound of shattering glass.
I closed the safe, made sure it was locked and headed out to the front of the shop, where our jewellery was on display.
"Sorry I—"
I stopped in the doorway.
The shop was empty.
It wasn't big enough for anyone to hide behind anything, but I had a quick look under the counters, just in case. They were barely high enough off the floor to fit a child, but it didn't hurt to check.
No one stared back at me, nothing but wall and carpet. Clean, because my father insisted we not let dust bunnies build up anywhere in the shop.
I stepped over to the window and looked out into the street.
Cars and people passed, like normal. If anyone had pulled a ‘jingle and run,’ I couldn't see them watching and laughing. Maybe they just bumped against the door as they were going by. Yeah, that had to be it.
"Nothing to see here, folks," I said to myself.
Still, the whole thing freaked me out a little bit. More than a little bit, if I was honest with myself.
I was alone in the shop. If anyone wanted to abduct me, there'd be no one here to stop them except me. Well, me and the panic buttons behind each of the three counters. They were connected to a silent alarm that went to the security company that worked for the Brantley family.
They usually got here faster than the police were able to, and didn't have any limits on how they dealt with anyone who tried to break in. We hated to clutter the courts with people like that.
Also, people tended not to reoffend when they were dead, or had broken kneecaps.
Since no one was in the shop, and it was five minutes before closing anyway, I made sure the door was shut properly and clicked the locks down into place.
They say locks only keep out honest people, but these were state-of-the-art. The glass on the windows and doors was bulletproof. If they really wanted to get in here, it would take them a lot of effort.
I'd like to say that if they did, they'd be met with a barrage of poisoned darts, or a rolling boulder, but Dad said no to both those suggestions. Presumably because they might catch us and not a thief. Since I didn't want to get squashed under a boulder either, I didn't fight him on it.
As I was turning away from the door, I heard movement in the back room.
Had someone made the bell jingle to distract me while they snuck in the back and made off with the safe? It was possible, I supposed.
I looked back at the locked door and bit my lip. If someone was out the back, did I really want the only other way out to be locked?
In the end, instinct told me to leave it and check what was going on in the workroom.
I stepped forward carefully, glad Dad insisted on carpet and not the floorboards or tiles I would have preferred. I argued they were easier to keep clean, but they might have made my footsteps audible.
I moved forward silently and peeked into the back of the shop.
What the hell?
There was no one there either. Someone was fucking with me or I was losing my mind.
Wait, there was another explanation. Someone must have moved into the apartment above us and they were walking around, flushing a toilet or something.
They must have moved in during the afternoon yesterday, after Dad and I were gone for the day.
We would have noticed a moving truck if we were here working.
"Stop freaking out over nothing," I told myself.
I leaned over and grabbed my bag from under my desk and slipped the strap over my shoulder. I grabbed my phone, shoved it in my pocket and tugged the back door open.
Carefully, I looked around before stepping outside.
Behind the shop was the car park, which was half full of cars, but empty of people, as far as I could tell.
I closed and locked the door behind me and walked across the car park.
I stopped to glance back, but saw no sign of anyone in the apartment upstairs.
Before I moved into my townhouse, I lived there, so I knew the back window was a spare room.
I'd used it as an office. If someone was in there, they'd be more likely to be in the front, where the main bedroom, bathroom and kitchen were.
I could walk around the side of the building and take a look, but they might think I was some kind of weirdo or stalker. Since I didn't feel like being arrested and thrown into a cell, I headed down the street to my townhouse.
It was a fifteen minute walk at my usual pace, but I moved faster today. Partly because the weather had changed and autumn started to settle in. Partly because I couldn't shake the feeling someone was watching me.
Every time I stopped at a traffic light to wait for the little red man to turn green, I'd look back over my shoulder and see no one doing anything strange. At least, nothing that would indicate any interest in me.
I got a couple of curious glances for my squirrelly behaviour, but that was it.
The problem was, I'd learned to trust my instincts, and they were screaming at me that something was going on. They told me to be extra careful when stepping out across the road. To stick close to the curb when I went past a doorway or an alley. Stay out of arm's length of anyone or anything.
I pulled my keys out of my bag and held my front door key in my fist. If anyone came at me, they'd get a key in the eyeball. Or in the hand. Whatever it took.
Should I pull out my phone and call Dad or one of the guys for a ride home?
By now, I was only a couple of minutes away. I'd be there before any of them got here. The guys were at training anyway, and if Dad was finished at the post office, he would have gone home. That was on the other side of Dusk Bay. Too far if anything happened.
Now I understood why Elenna worked with Finley. Whenever her guys were at the arena, so was she. When they travelled for a game, she went with them. She was lucky she got to go to the toilet unaccompanied.
All of that sounded confining, until now.
If I was surrounded by two burly hockey gods, and a burly hockey god-coach, I'd feel a lot less anxious right now.
A block from my place, I stopped at yet another traffic light. I waited until the sign turned green. The beeping from the pole beside me sounded frantic, egging me to move quickly over the road.
I stepped out, as a black SUV came barrelling around the corner. They were going so fast, they almost ended up on two wheels. Tires screeched.
I leapt back onto the curb. The SUV missed me by less than a metre.
It whipped up exhaust-laden wind in its wake, whipping my hair around me, before racing away.
"Fucking hell." I pressed a hand to my pounding heart. That was so close. I was surprised my life didn't flash before my eyes or whatever it was that happened.
"It's just a coincidence. No one tried to kill you."
I looked down the road, but saw no sign of the SUV. If they were after me, they didn't stop and shoot me, or throw me into the back and drive away with me.
It was just a dickhead driver going too fast and taking the corner badly. They were lucky they didn't slam into something and crash. If they kept on driving that way, they would.
Excuse me if I was a little bit short on sympathy for them right now. Maybe when my heart slowed down to a normal rate. In a day or two.
By now the little electric man turned back to red and I had to wait again. When it turned back to green, I was even more careful than before to step out and hurry across the road.
I got to the end of Crane Street without anyone driving too close to me, or anything else weird happening.
I even reached and walked across the last traffic light without ending up a splat on the road.
Still, the feeling of being watched lingered. If someone was lurking on the edge of my awareness, trying to get me to unravel, they were succeeding. If they were doing it for fun, they could go fuck themselves.
If they were doing it to intimidate me, they could also go fuck themselves. I was nervous, but not intimidated. It took more than that to get to this little birdie.
That was what I told myself as I hurried up to my front door and slipped the key in the lock.
I pushed the door in and closed it behind me. I stood in the entryway for at least three minutes, waiting and listening, but hearing and seeing nothing.
The only sound was passing traffic and distant music. Maybe a bird or two. The feathered kind, that was.
I slipped my bag down off my shoulder and placed it on the hall stand. I set my keys down beside it, trying not to rattle them.
Just in case, I slipped open the drawer of the stand and pulled out the gun I kept in there after Bray surprised me.
Realising I might not make it to the kitchen in time if the real enemy came after me, I bought another one and stashed it in there.
I checked to see if it was loaded, and turned off the safety.
I stepped slowly through my townhouse, the gun in front of me.
There was no one in the kitchen or living area, nothing out of place. The back door was still locked. None of the windows were broken.
As quietly as I could, I made my way up the stairs to the upper level, avoiding the two creaky steps that would give me away if anyone was here. They were a good alarm system if I was alone and someone came in, but not as useful in this circumstance.
I glanced into the spare room, the bathroom, and then my room. Like downstairs, it was empty, nothing out of place. No one hiding under a bed or in the wardrobe. No one waiting behind the shower curtain to jump out at me.
Not even Bray. Lucky for him, because I was so jumpy by now, I might have shot him and asked questions later.
I lowered the gun and shook my head.
"All of this fuss for nothing. I'm just being paranoid." I headed back down the stairs and left the gun on the kitchen table. I could go for a long hot bath, with a good book and a glass of wine around about now. Something to relax me. But I couldn't relax completely.
I knew I wasn't wrong. What I didn't know was what, and why.