Foxfire (3 page)

She concentrated on her bowl of ice cream.
One thing she'd learned well. Arguing with Brad was a losing
proposition. The day after she moved in, he'd knocked on her door
with a frozen container of homemade ice cream. Their friendship had
flourished and before long she felt safe in telling him about her
troubled childhood. She shared the nightmare of growing up with a
mother who would snuggle her one minute and rage at her the next.
Brad listened without judgment when she confessed the truth about
her past. She told herself it was to protect him if her enemies
should find her. The truth was she needed someone to accept her and
love her no matter how stained her life had been.

Brad's heart was bigger than anyone's she'd
ever known. He hadn't blinked an eye. Just listened. When she
finished, he hugged her, told her he thought she was brave and
admirable. Then he offered to make dinner as if she'd just
confessed she was a super-star.

His voice broke into her thoughts. “You think
too much, honey.”

She reached across the table and squeezed his
hand. “Do you know how much I love you, Brad?”

He dipped his head like a bashful boy and
muttered, “Yeah, I know.”

They finished eating in a comfortable
silence. Grace realized the rock that had been sitting on top of
her heart had disappeared. What would she do without Brad? Her life
would be empty. Lonely. No ice cream to soothe her soul. Why had
she shed tears over a man she didn't love? Would she feel empty or
lonely without Connor? Honestly, no. A life without Connor wouldn't
be the same as a life without Brad. She longed to be part of a
family, but maybe her vision of that didn't exist. The whole
scenario of a house in the suburbs, children playing in the yard, a
man greeting her with a kiss, complimenting her on the delicious
smell of dinner simmering on the stove—it was all an illusion.
Connor could never be that kind of man. But Brad would never let
her down. Brad was her family.

As if reading her thoughts, he asked, “Do you
have plans for dinner tonight?”

“No.”

“Good. You do now. Harri's bringing dessert,
some new recipe she found. I'm going to stir up a pot of my famous
beef stew.”

Grace grinned. “Count me in.” She stood and
reached for their empty bowls.

“Don't bother, hon, I'll clean up.”

She brushed a kiss on his cheek and walked to
the door. Holding it open, she called, “Come on, Tiff, time to
go.”

“Wear something nice,” Brad said as the bowls
clattered into the sink.

Grace looked at him questioningly. “What's so
special about tonight?”

Brad shoved his hands in his pockets. His
grin and twinkling eyes showed signs of the little boy he'd been
some sixty-odd years ago, but he didn't offer an explanation.

What trick did her sneaky friend have up his
sleeve? She flipped a wave. “See you later.”

She hoped he wouldn't try to fix her up with
Adam Shockley. Through a break in the trees, she looked up the hill
at Adam's house. He was the one who sold her the cabin she called
now called home. At one time, he probably owned the whole damn
mountain. Over the years, he sold off most of the acreage. He was a
bachelor and several years older than her. Sometimes Grace caught
him looking at her in a way that made her skin crawl.

She hurried home and retrieved the newspaper.
Job-hunting was critical. She wouldn't be able to afford her house
payment, let alone buy groceries, if she didn't find another job
soon. She opened the pages, spreading them flat and glanced at the
front page.

Her breath imploded in a painful gasp. The
headline screamed at her. Another woman had been found stabbed to
death last night. The hairs raised on the back of Grace's neck. Her
heart thumped as she recalled the man she'd seen lurking in the
parking garage—the same one where this latest victim had been
discovered. Oh, my God. Had she seen the killer?

Her temples began to pound. She took the
aspirin bottle from the medicine cabinet and shook two into her
hand. Just because she had seen something, a shadow no less, didn't
mean she'd seen a killer. Lots of homeless people found shelter in
the downtown garages at night.

She popped the aspirin in her mouth and
rinsed them down with tepid water. Setting the glass on the
counter, she wiped her mouth and stared through the window at the
changing landscape. The white of the mountain laurel contrasted
with deeper green pine trees creating a breathtaking forefront to
the distant mountains. Spring was her favorite time of year, a time
for new beginnings.

She was making a new beginning. Another
chapter of her life had ended. Time to look forward, not backward.
Forget about the murders. They had nothing to do with her.

Brad came into view, walking-stick in hand,
plodding along the path. His familiar three-legged gait brought a
smile to her lips. He was probably heading down to the new animal
clinic. Brad kept tabs on what happened in the community, though he
insisted he wasn't as bad as Adam Shockley. Adam personally
welcomed each new Foxfire resident, and rumor had it that if you
didn't pass his inspection, you'd be an outcast.

The new vet wouldn't have a problem getting
along with the neighbors. He had an open personality, and if he
flirted with the ladies like he had with Grace...well, he'd soon
have a string of what Grace called “foo-foo” dogs for patients.

Maybe she'd bake some brownies as a welcome
gift. Not because she wanted to see him again, of course, just a
friendly gesture. Besides, he liked Tiffany, who definitely wasn't
a “foo-foo” dog. Look toward new beginnings. Forget about the
Knoxville Knifer and the murders.

Grace forced her gaze away from the window
and massaged the back of her neck, squeezing to loosen the tight
muscles. She headed to the living room, where Tiffany lifted an
eyelid and gave her a one-second stare from her spot in front of
the fireplace. Grace eased down in the rocking chair, setting it in
motion. The gentle rhythmic creaking of wood on wood, along with
the aspirin, eased the pounding in her temples, but didn't stop her
conscience.

She'd have to tell the police what she'd
seen. Every lead counted. She shuddered. What had gone through the
minds of the women who had been murdered so savagely with a sharp
blade? Once Grace had to defend herself against a knife-wielding
assailant, and she'd been nearly blinded with fear. But she'd
gotten lucky.

Another shudder moved her shoulders her.

****

Tyler lifted his head and crawled out from
under the leaking sink. The bell jangled again, alerting him that
someone had entered. Wiping his hands on his jeans, he hurried
downstairs into the clinic.

“Hey, Tyler,” Brad greeted.

“Brad. You're a sight for sore eyes.” Tyler
shook the hand of the elder man, which was surprisingly strong
despite his age. “I was just wrestling with a leaky pipe. Are you
psychic?” Brad had been hanging around for weeks checking the
progress of the clinic, so seeing him this morning wasn't a
surprise.

Brad winced as he slipped his arms from the
light flannel jacket, a sign that his arthritis was troubling him
this morning. “If you want a hand with that leak, I'll see what I
can do.”

Tyler had no doubt Brad could fix it, but he
didn't want the old man down on the floor. “Nah, it can wait.” He
nodded to the left. “Check out the new scale they delivered this
morning.”

Tyler pushed open a door and waited for Brad
to follow. Once inside the examination room, Tyler planted his foot
on a stainless steel scale. “Top of the line. Can accurately weigh
a two-hundred pound Saint Bernard.”

“Doubt if there's many of them around this
neck of the woods.”

Tyler said, “You never know what might come
through these doors. I'm going to open the clinic next week. I
placed an ad in the Foxfire News to run this weekend.”

“Better to put it in the Knoxville Sentinel.
Not that many people in Foxfire, son.”

“I need to start small since I can't hire an
assistant for a while.” He still hoped to entice his dad to join
him. But he had to deal with finding a killer first. The first
person he'd hire would be someone to run the office for him, keep
the books and appointments straight, but even that would have to
wait until he actually had some clients.

Brad nodded, his blue eyes sharp with
approval. “You're a smart business man.”

“Thanks.” Brad's praise felt good. Since
Tyler had left Ohio, he missed having daily conversations with his
dad. Quickly, he tamped down a painful memory.

Brad asked, “Got plans for dinner
tonight?”

“Cold cut sandwiches. If you want to join me,
I'll throw together a salad to go with them,” Tyler answered.

Brad's deep rumbling laugh filled the room.
“I've got a better offer. Come to my house for beef stew and some
exotic dessert Harri's throwing together.”

Tyler grinned broadly and clapped Brad on the
shoulder. “What time?”

“Make it around six. Come on, son, let's go
fix that leak.”

****

Dusk had nearly given way to the cloudless
blanket of night when Grace arrived at Brad's for dinner. She
knocked and opened the door.

“Brad?”

Tiffany preceded her inside and bounded
toward a surprised Tyler. But he couldn't be more surprised than
Grace. What was he doing here?

“Grace, honey, come on in.” Brad hurried
forward and put an arm possessively around her shoulders. He turned
to look at Tyler. “Let me introduce you to—”

“Grace, what a pleasant surprise.” Tyler's
emerald eyes swept over Grace with a glint of male appreciation,
making her glad she'd chosen to wear her favorite blue blouse and
black dress slacks. Tyler took her hand, wrapping his fingers
tightly around hers. Her breath stopped.

Brad beamed. “I didn't know you two had
met.”

Grace shifted her eyes to meet Tyler's
teasing grin, then quickly looked down at their clasped hands. She
pulled hers free. “We, uh...” She took a step sideways, giving
herself room to breathe. “Tyler dropped by last night.”

Tyler placed his hand on Grace's shoulder,
giving it a brief squeeze.

“Tiffany led me to Grace's door, and I took
the opportunity to introduce myself and tell her about the
clinic.”

A tap on the door turned all their heads.
“Yoo hoo, I'm here. Better late than never, I always say.” Harri
burst through the door, her bright orange hair dimmed only by the
turquoise earrings bobbing on her lobes. She stopped abruptly when
she caught sight of Tyler.

Grace hurried forward. “Here let me take
that,” she said relieving Harri of an oblong pan.

Brad slid Harri's cardinal red sweater off
her shoulders. “Harri, meet Tyler Sandford, our community
veterinarian. Tyler, Harriet Parton. Better known as Harri.”

Tyler lifted Harri's hand to his lips. “Ms.
Parton, it's an honor to finally meet you. Brad's mentioned you
many times. Are you relation to the famous Dolly?”

Harri yanked her hand back as if burned. “A
distant cousin of sorts.” Her voice dropped an octave and her lips
turned downward. She narrowed her golden brown eyes, made more
prominent by the lavish application of lavender eye shadow. “What's
the old geezer been saying about me?”

“Only good things, I assure you,” Tyler
responded.

Harri looked him over from head to toe. “You
have an interesting aura. Lots of green.”

Tyler's eyebrows lifted questioningly.
“Green?”

“Suits your profession. I see some dark
purple, too.” She lifted the glasses hanging on a beaded chain and
slipped them onto her nose. “Interesting,” she murmured. She
removed the glasses and let them dangle around her neck.

Brad slipped his arm across Harri's shoulders
and squeezed. “Now, Harri, don't get started with that nonsense.”
He smiled apologetically at Tyler. “Harri thinks she's
psychic.”

“Bradley Johnson.” Harri’s hands fisted on
her ample hips. “One of these days you'll be sorry for doubting my
abilities.”

“Right, darlin'. So what did you bring for
dessert?”

Harri ignored him and squinted farsightedly
at Tyler. Grace knew that look. She almost felt sorry for him. She
could practically feel him squirm under that scrutinizing gaze.

“I'm not sure of you yet, young man.
Something's not right. But you can call me Harri.”

Grace felt like giggling. The teasing,
flirtatious veterinarian had met his match. She wondered what he
thought about Harri's outrageous outfit—a long flowing broomstick
skirt in blended splashes of red, gold and black, topped with a
lime green poet's blouse. Only Harri could deck herself out like a
peacock and still command respect. Her happy spirit invaded the
room and brought a glow of love to Brad's eyes.

He ladled their plates with steaming beef
stew that made Grace's mouth water. The smell of freshly baked
sourdough rolls wafted from the covered basket in the center of the
table. She took one and passed the basket to Tyler, who sat so
close their arms brushed when he took it. He winked and she slipped
her hands to her lap to hide her trembling fingers. Damn him. He
knew exactly what effect he had on her.

Tiffany plopped loudly onto the floor and
huffed a sigh.

Brad's stomach jumped in time with his
laughter. “I'm not forgetting you, girl. You just have to wait
until it cools.”

The dog's tail whacked the floor as she
looked at him expectantly.

“Where did you come from, Tyler?” Harri
asked.

Tyler coughed and choked on a bite of
roll.

Grace grinned wickedly and pounded him on the
back.

He covered his mouth with his napkin and
slanted her a glance.

She lifted her eyebrows and smiled
innocently.

“Sorry,” he said turning his gaze to Harri.
“I was born and raised in Ohio.”