Chapter 35 - Dean
Dean
Below me, two men left and two more arrived for the next round of guard duty. I waited for the changeover to finish and crawled across the grocery store’s roof to the far window.
The security of life as the sheriff’s daughter. Rose forgot to lock her third-floor window.
I slid, feet first, into Rose Gustafson’s private quarters, where a beam of light spilled through an open door, and a couple spoke in an inaudible murmur.
“Well, aren’t you a handsome devil?” Rose asked.
I hesitated as the mattress creaked and approached the doorjamb to see Rose astride a man’s lap, concealing his identity. I grimaced at their wet, slurping sounds before leaving them behind and creeping downstairs into the empty grocery store, unsure of what to look for.
The manager’s office contained an empty desk and a computer that no longer worked. If Sheriff Gustafson plotted against Deer Lake, he left no evidence there.
The dim light made it impossible to scour each item, though shadows revealed the same stacked boxes and jammed aisles. Nothing unusual appeared until I reached the aisle closest to the back entrance.
“How are things?” Julian closed the front door behind him and whistled.
I froze.
He turned on a flashlight and scanned the closest aisle. “Is someone there?” The flashlight’s beam moved, marking his progress through the aisle.
Shit. Julian didn’t frighten me, but I didn’t want a confrontation either. I backed up, further from his light, towards the staircase.
He rounded the corner and let out another high-pitched whistle. “I’m the sheriff’s nephew. Think hard before attacking me.” Julian resumed his slow pace, shoes clicking against the floor tile.
I backed into the aisle he had just exited and pulled the small knife out of my front pocket. I held my breath and waited.
“No one here, after all.” Julian laughed, and the light disappeared. He whistled and left.
Time to go.
Upstairs, Rose Gustafson’s romantic evening had progressed to a full-on sexual encounter. I forced my heaving stomach to behave as I waited for them to finish.
The bed’s position against the far wall, and their activity, meant I couldn’t depend on Rose’s back to shield me this time.
A lifetime later, the man quieted and rose to shut the door.
Gratitude filled me.
I crept to the window and slipped outside.
“You’re back.” Lily jumped and threw herself into my arms. “You were gone forever.”
I held her, enjoying the soft feel of her body against mine as she burrowed into my chest.
She missed me.
I swallowed and said, “I didn’t want to be discovered. Hurrying is an excellent way to get caught.”
“Dean.” She pulled herself from my arms with a cute pout. “I waited a few minutes because you said to stay here, and then I changed my mind.”
I stiffened. “Did anyone see you?”
“I don’t think so,” she said. The answer would be more reassuring if it didn’t sound like a question.
“How’d it sound if a deputy noticed me and I told him you went to get us some late-night snacks?
” She rolled her eyes. “I paced. Three steps and turn. Three steps and turn.” Lily’s head bobbed from one side to the other, demonstrating.
“No one saw me. Julian was there. Did you see them?”
“Sort of. Julian checked the store out. I don’t know why.”
Her eyes bulged. “No more black ops missions. I forbid them.”
“Forbid them?” I’d laugh at the image of Lily dressed in black clothes and face paint in other circumstances. “You know I can’t make that promise. Besides, he’s not a threat.”
“Yes, but what if he was?”
“Nah. If I had a dollar for how often he reminded people his uncle was the sheriff when we were younger…I’m not saying I’d be rich, but it’s enough cash to buy a case of beer.” I smirked. Julian still used the same threats all these years later. “It’s the sheriff who worries me. He wields power.”
Lily’s body relaxed. “Oh, thank goodness.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing. I’m glad you’re safe, that’s all.”
Weariness hit, though I’d done worse before, many times. The emotional damage from today was unfamiliar, and I didn’t have any tools to manage it.
Lily caught my changing expression. “What is it?”
“I’m not used to this. I don’t know what to do,” I said.
“Do about what?”
I hated admitting it. “People caring about me.”
“People caring about you?” Lily unrolled the sleeping bag and shoved me down. “Get comfortable because we’re unpacking that.”
“There’s nothing to unpack because I’m not a suitcase.” I removed my shoes, settled in next to her, and stretched. That helped. “You and her. Mrs. Willoughby felt bad. I never expected that. Henry, as well.”
“That’s the one I haven’t met.”
“He’s reserved. If people apologize to me, doesn’t that require me to forgive them? I don’t do that, Lily.”
“You can. What you said to Mrs. Willoughby looked like it to me.”
“Did it? I told her not to apologize; that isn’t the same thing.”
Lily pursed her lips, so her jaw stuck out. “My father comes home soon. Practice with him. I think…I hope there’s progress with you two.”
Her father sent Henry to keep tabs on me, probably believing I’d hurt her. That wasn’t a man planning a reconciliation. “Maybe.”
“Forgiving a person isn’t for them. It’s...”
I waited for her to finish. “What is it?” I finally asked, giving up.
“Do it for yourself, not anyone else.”
I snorted. “That makes it sound selfish.”
“Maybe it is.” She dropped to a whisper. “Maybe it’s okay to be selfish. I don’t know. ”
“Sure.” I was uncertain how else to respond. “Henry said I reminded him of my mother.” Speaking the words out loud almost broke me. Someone besides me remembered her. Remembered her well enough to draw on memories after all these years, while I never visited her once.
“That explains your sudden decision to go exploring.”
“It seems I hate this town a little less than I thought.”
“Funny,” she started. Lily placed a hand on my chest and pulled herself up. “As I’m wondering about Deer Lake. You weren’t wrong earlier.” Her face scrunched up as she forced out the words. “We can’t leave, and I wonder if we can stay. I’m afraid there’s no refuge left anywhere.”
That confession cost her as much as mine did. It was the closest she came to suggesting we leave without outright demanding it.
“Are you telling me we should go?”
“I’m saying there’s risk here. Maybe. I don’t know. This place isn’t what I longed for. I guess it’s true about not going home again.”
“With you here, this feels like home. I want to check with the sheriff tomorrow morning. Will you go with me to the cemetery after?”