13. Dom
13
dom
After I left Nonno’s bookshop, I didn’t head straight back to my place. Instead, I drove in the opposite direction, toward the animal shelter. I couldn’t explain why I felt compelled to do so, only that I did.
Maybe it had something to do with the conversation I’d had with Vin and Nick, particularly the part about there being a connection between Ella and me. I wanted to believe it. I mean, I felt it, didn’t I? And last night, when Ella had let her guard slip, I was pretty sure she’d felt something too.
The farther out of the town proper I drove, the darker it got. There were less streetlights out this way. Less homes, more commercial properties—factories, warehouses, businesses that required more room and easy on-off access to the highway.
The shelter property was one of the nicest. Relatively flat, with a thick ring of trees along the boundaries, setting it apart from the land surrounding it. At one time, it had been a popular mom-and-pop motel. The place had gone into disrepair back in the ’70s, when the owners passed on, and the property had passed from the childless but animal-loving couple to the county humane society as a provision of their will.
I’d gotten to know the site fairly well over the last week. Multiple unused structures stood in the back, former blocks of rooms that hadn’t seen occupants or attention in decades. Each one was a single-story rectangle that looked like a Monopoly hotel dropped into place by a giant hand. Only the main building, where the lobby and receiving area were located, was in active use. Two perpendicular wings extended back at right angles, forming a massive U. The right wing was where the main kennel was, along with the medical facilities. The left wing held Ella’s office and, in the far back, the small studio where she lived.
Where the electrical fire had started underneath her.
Thinking of that night had me tightening my hold on the steering wheel, my knuckles turning ghostly white in the glow of the dash. I didn’t like to think about what might have happened if Ella hadn’t acted as quickly as she had. I got that the shelter had limited resources and had to prioritize where their funds were spent, but shouldn’t Ella’s safety be at the top of the list?
I slowed as I got close to the parking lot, the need to know she was okay a gnawing in my gut that wouldn’t be denied. It was only nine. Not late in the scheme of things, but who knew? Some people subscribed to the early to bed, early to rise philosophy. I didn’t know if Ella was one of them.
Was she still awake? Would she welcome a visit, or would she prefer to be left alone?
My hands made the decision for me, and there I was, pulling into the lot. The dark lot. I hadn’t noticed the lack of illumination when I dropped her off the night before. I guessed I was preoccupied. The dual carriage lights on either side of the main doors barely extended beyond the covered entryway, and the low-level security lights inside the lobby didn’t help.
I drove around to the side entrance, where I’d picked Ella up the night before. It was even darker there. So dark that I almost missed the black luxury SUV pulled alongside the building. I knew it wasn’t Ella’s; she’d told me she had a Civic that she kept in the back lot.
Ella was having late-night visitors? Who?
I put the car in reverse and backed up and went around to the other side of the building, where I parked and considered my options. My heart was beating fast. My stomach, tight. Clearly whoever owned that vehicle was there to see Ella.
I should just leave, right? But even as I thought that, I rejected the idea. What if Ella was in trouble? What if the owner of that vehicle was the reason why Ella was lying low, living in an animal shelter, and afraid to have her picture taken?
I made my way on foot around the back of the property, noting the only window with the hint of a glow behind it. It had to be Ella’s apartment.
I hesitated, questioning myself in a moment of clarity. Was I skulking? No question. But not for nefarious purposes. I’d learned to trust my instincts—the same ones that told me when a fire was about to turn or when things were beyond salvage. At that moment, they were screaming at me now to ensure Ella was okay.
I didn’t hear shouting, raised voices, or anything else that might indicate a bad situation within, so I crept back toward the unknown vehicle and took a closer look. The thing was almost invisible in the wan moonlight. Not only was the car black, but so were the rims. The windows were tinted too.
Definitely not the kind of vehicle driven by harmless little old ladies dropping by for tea.
I discreetly took a photo of the license plate and was pondering my next move when the side door opened. I ducked back into the shadows.
A woman emerged, followed by a man the size of a tank. I didn’t get a good look at their features, backlit as they were from the hallway light for only a moment or two before the door shut.
After a muted digital whip-whip sound of the car unlocking, the big guy held the passenger door open for the woman. Once she was seated, he closed the door and headed to the driver’s side, his gaze on a constant swivel. The way he scanned the area made me uneasy. His movements were practiced and precise, like he’d had some kind of training.
He paused briefly and looked around, as if he sensed me or something. The woman said something from inside, and after one final visual sweep, he got in, hung a uey, and drove away.
Other than the fact that they drove a blacked-out luxury SUV and the big guy had serious hired-goon vibes, I hadn’t noticed anything overtly suspicious. They weren’t in a hurry. Both had been well dressed and not seemed upset.
Were these the two who had been asking Joel about Ella?
I needed to know Ella was okay.
I took out my phone and was about to text when the door opened again and Ella stepped out. Propping the door open, she stood there, arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe, looking up at the sliver of moon. I couldn’t see the details of her face, but her body language seemed easy enough to read. She seemed sad. Maybe resigned was a better word. As if she’d played a game and lost.
My protective instincts roared at me to go to her. To put my arms around her and comfort her. But I remained where I was, in the shadows, not moving. Barely breathing. Knowing that there was no reasonable way to explain my presence.
Just as I’d decided to say the hell with it and go to her anyway, she turned and went back inside, closing the door behind her. A short while later, the light behind the blackout shade went out.
I walked back to my car, feeling more conflicted than ever.
Needless to say, I didn’t get much sleep. My mind continued to puzzle over the enigma that was Ella Ferris, going over every encounter in my mind. I came up with some crazy scenarios—everything from abuse survivor to witness protection.
The more I thought about it though, the less crazy those theories sounded.
I was up, dressed, and out of my apartment early so I could catch Vinnie on his way to work. Now that he and Haven had gotten hitched, he’d switched from second shift to first so they could spend more time together.
Vinnie smirked when he saw me standing beside his car with two coffees and a box of fresh doughnuts—the staple no self-respecting cop could resist. Given the way his hair was still wet and he had a puff of shaving cream on his ear, he hadn’t had time for a real breakfast.
“Coffee and doughnuts?” he asked, narrowing his eyes as he snatched one of the to-go cups from the tray. “What do you want?”
I didn’t waste time. “Will you run a plate for me?”
His brows rose. “Maybe. Tell me why.”
I told him about swinging by the shelter to check on Ella, the blacked-out SUV, and my theories. To his credit, he didn’t lecture me on my blatant creeper behavior or tell me I was being ridiculous.
“I’ll run the plate—that’s no problem,” Vinnie agreed. “It’s what I can do with the information I get back that could be a problem, particularly since I have no reason to believe a crime has been committed.”
I nodded. That was a chance I was willing to take.
I was on the final day of my three days off, and I knew exactly where I wanted to spend it. I headed over to the shelter, hoping I’d cross paths with Ella, but if not, I wasn’t above seeking her out again.
Luck was on my side—or so I first thought. As I was parking, I spotted Ella coming out from the side and heading toward the edge of the lot. She was dressed casually, as she usually was, but she seemed preoccupied. She didn’t even look my way. I was about to call out when she got into a waiting car with a popular rideshare LED sign visible on the dash.
“Ready for another exciting day of drywalling and spackling?” Chas asked, appearing out of nowhere.
“Absolutely,” I responded.
As we walked in together, Chas was going on about how volunteering at the shelter had turned out to be very lucky for him. I was only listening with half an ear at that point. My mind was elsewhere. Where had Ella gone? Did it have anything to do with the visitors she’d had the night before?
Yeah, I had it bad.
I told myself repeatedly that it wasn’t any of my business, but I couldn’t get the image of her getting into that car out of my head. She looked like she was preparing to go to the guillotine or something.
Several hours later, I was taking a load out to the dumpster when I saw her returning. She seemed even more lost in her thoughts than before.
Something was wrong. I could feel it in my gut.
Instead of heading toward the break room, where everyone else was gathering for lunch, I made my way to the old wing. The door to Ella’s office was partially open. I knocked lightly, poking my head in when I didn’t receive an answer. Ella was standing behind her desk, looking lost in thought.
I knocked harder. “Ella?”
She started, her gaze snapping to me. “Oh, Dom. Sorry. You startled me.”
My chest tightened. I was used to cautious, quiet, guarded Ella, but this was something more. Her eyes held shadows they hadn’t held before. Not just wariness, but genuine fear.
“Everything okay?”
She stared at me for a long time, the fear fading and being replaced by sadness. Then she said, “No. I don’t think it is.”