One Wish (13 page)

“It’s not a coincidence,” she said.

“Stick with the locked doors for the time being, all right?”

“And look over my shoulder a lot?” she asked.

“Look, Grace, when those notes were originally sent by your stalker he had a plan that put you in jeopardy. He hasn’t delivered this note. Do you have any reason to believe anyone means you harm?”

She thought for a moment before she shook her head.

“I think it’s mean, doing that to you. I’ll keep my eyes open. I’ll watch the shop when I’m in town. I’ll tell the other deputies to watch. But it just doesn’t follow that whoever did this wants to hurt you.”

“Of course you’re right,” she said. “But someone did do it to scare me. I can’t imagine why.”

“That’s the mystery, isn’t it?” he said. “You going to be all right?”

She shrugged. “I guess. I’m not going to let something like this beat me. It really pisses me off.”

“Good. It should. Call me if anything happens that worries you. Anything at all.”

“Thanks, Seth. I understand there’s nothing much more that can be done. I appreciate the time you put into this.”

He touched his forehead in a salute. “We’ll be on duty, Grace.”

When he left, she stepped out onto the sidewalk behind him. It was a sunny early April day, but the front of the shop wasn’t as exciting as usual. She hadn’t put out her sidewalk displays because some asshole had forced her in behind locked doors with a stupid little note. She turned, stomped back into the shop and dragged out her big wooden bunny for Easter. She cranked out her awning. Next, she pulled out a wicker basket filled with plastic daffodils and a sign that read Spring Sale!
Then she unpacked her yellow, pink, mint-green and pale blue banner that read Easter Flowers! Order Now! She fixed it over the door. And finally she tore off the note over the doorbell.

Seth was right, she thought. It’s mean and creepy but it’s not an open threat. She would be cautious and safe. She refused to be insanely paranoid. If anyone crazy came at her, she’d beat him over the head with her ceramic tulip sculpture.

However, she did keep the back door locked, just to be sure.

* * *

Ray Anne painted her second bedroom, bought new linens for the bed and reupholstered the window cornices with matching fabric. She did it all herself, as she always had. Although she knew every handyman within a hundred-mile radius, she was also adept at home repairs and decorating. She knew how to hang wallpaper, install crown molding, replace wallboard and a dozen other things. In preparation for Ginger’s arrival, she removed all her clothes, shoes and purses from the closet in the guest room—she had used it for her overflow wardrobe.

There was a small bath and shower in her bedroom and a larger bathroom with tub and shower beside the guest room. She cleaned under the sink and stocked it with bath gels, bubble bath, scented soaps, lotions and sponges. She put candles on the back of the commode and on the side of the tub.

She was nervous as a cat, waiting for her Gingersnap. She didn’t know how she could help her get beyond this dark patch.
How does anyone get past it?
Poor Al had spent over thirty years trying to move beyond the death of his own baby son.

“I must have held on to that pain as stubbornly as an old bull,” Al told her.

Ginger was driving down from Portland on Monday. At noon she still hadn’t arrived and Ray Anne started to worry. She called her cousin and Dickie said she’d gotten an early start and should be there. Ginger didn’t answer her cell phone when her father called or when Ray Anne called. At two, just about the time Ray Anne was thinking of asking Seth to check with the state troopers to see if there’d been any accidents, Ginger pulled up in front of Ray Anne’s little house.

Ray Anne had seen Ginger four times in the months since the baby died. She hadn’t been looking good then. She wasn’t looking any better now. As Ray Anne walked toward Ginger, who was pulling her suitcase out of the trunk, she thought perhaps the girl was steadily deteriorating. She was far too thin, that was obvious even while she wore her coat. She was pale under her freckled complexion and her expression had become permanently downcast. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail; the beautiful strawberry blonde locks had gone dull and dark. She obviously hadn’t done a thing to it in months.

“There you are!” Ray Anne said cheerily. “I was starting to get worried!”

“I stopped to look at the ocean,” Ginger said.

“Well, of course! I should have thought of that! But now you’re here, let’s get your things inside.”

“I’ve got it,” Ginger said, snapping up the pull handle.

“Is that all you’ve got? One bag?”

“It’s all I need,” she said.

“Well, I guess you’ll be doing laundry then. Come on, let’s get you settled.” Ray Anne took the handle of the suitcase and pulled it up the walk and into the house. “I cleaned out the guest room and the bathroom, so it’s all yours. I put some pampering things in there for you—soaps, lotions, candles. Did you bring a hair dryer?”

“I don’t need one.”

No wonder her hair was so flat and thin looking. She must be washing it and letting it dry any which way. And she wasn’t using any product! “We can share mine. Or maybe we’ll get you a new one.”

“Really. I’m fine.”

“Right in here,” Ray Anne said briskly, pulling the suitcase into the newly painted and decorated bedroom. “Voilà!” she said, throwing an arm wide to showcase her decorating.

“Thanks,” Ginger said, not noticing how pretty it was. “I’ll just lay down for a while.”

“No, ma’am,” Ray Anne said, lifting the suitcase onto the bed. “We’re going to unpack, hang and put away your clothes.” She unzipped the suitcase and found the items inside had shifted because it wasn’t even full. Or maybe they hadn’t and Ginger had just haphazardly tossed them inside. She lifted out the first pair of wrinkled jeans. Then a second. Then a long-sleeved T-shirt. Then an old sweatshirt that she might have used when she painted something...years ago. And her underwear—pathetic.

“Oh, brother,” Ray Anne muttered.

Ginger just sat on the bed. She didn’t respond.

“Are we even related?” Ray Anne asked her. She lifted a dingy pair of granny panties and let them dangle from one finger. “Do we share any DNA at all?”

Ginger shrugged. “Just wasn’t a priority, Ray. Why bother?”

Ray Anne sat on the edge of the bed and took one of Ginger’s hands. “I’ll tell you why we bother. Because there are things you can do to try to get beyond devastating pain. They might be small, stupid things, but they actually help a little. Things like fixing yourself up so you look better than you feel. Getting out helps—you have to live in this world. Work helps. Meaningful work, if possible, and that’s something different for everyone, but keeping busy instead of lying in bed and making constant love to the hurt—that can help. Tell me something—are you taking anything?”

“Like what?”

“Like tranquilizers or antidepressants or anything?”

“Not anymore,” she said. “They weren’t working. And I kept thinking about swallowing the whole bottle.”

Ray Anne gasped. “Jesus,” she muttered. She wondered if she should hide all pills from Aspirin to hormones. And sharp objects. She stiffened her spine resolutely. “All right, I have to run a quick errand I put off while waiting for you to get here so you wouldn’t find me gone when you arrived. I want you to put away your clothes in this chest and the closet. Then put the empty suitcase in the closet. Do that before you lie down. From what your daddy tells me, you’ve perfected napping and I’m willing to bet you’re all caught up on sleep. I’ll be back in fifteen or twenty minutes.”

“All right,” Ginger said, standing.

When Ginger hung her coat in the closet, Ray Anne noticed her jeans were sagging off her flat butt and her tennis shoes were beat-up. The girl was a complete mess. Her attire and body language were such a put off, holding back any well-intentioned person, it was as if she longed to go it alone and wallow in grief.

“Do you have my cell number?” Ray Anne asked.

“Probably,” she said.

“Where’s your phone?”

“I don’t know. Probably in my purse. It’s turned off.”

“Why is it turned off?”

Ginger flashed her an angry look. “Because no one’s going to call me! And there’s no one I want to talk to!”

“Is that so?” Ray Anne asked without flinching. “Well, your father and I were trying to reach you to see if you’d had a problem on your drive and we went straight to voice mail, worrying us even more. Now, I can understand if you’re avoiding calls, but is it either fair or kind to ignore people who love you and are concerned about you? If you want to do this to yourself forever, I don’t suppose anyone can convince you otherwise, but your parents suffered a painful loss, as well, and I don’t think they can deal with another one. I’m going to call them and tell them you arrived safely. Meanwhile, please turn on your phone. Charge it. Whatever. I’ll be back in twenty.”

Ray Anne, who never walked anywhere and was always seen in her little BMW, walked down the street, down the hill and into Carrie’s deli. Carrie and Rawley appeared to be cleaning up. Customer traffic was usually at its lowest in midafternoon, heaviest for lunch and dinner. When Ray Anne walked in, Rawley automatically disappeared into the kitchen in the back of the deli.

“Well, hello,” Carrie said.

“Call Lou and cancel dinner. Ginger just arrived and she’s not fit to go out.”

“Is she sick?” Carrie asked.

“She’s horribly depressed. She can barely speak. The only thing more depressing than her personality right now is her wardrobe. Apparently it feels better to dress in poorly fitting rags. It’s like sackcloth and ashes.” She shook her head in misery. “I should have listened to myself. I can’t help with this. She is way outside of my experience. I don’t know what to do with her.” She took a breath. “Can I please have a to-go dinner? Since we’re not able to go out?”

“Sure. Now tell me what happened.”

Ray Anne explained about Ginger’s gaunt appearance, horrible clothing, turned-off phone and so on. “I was already very sad for her and about the baby. Of course I held that baby—he was a perfect baby! But it’s been months and one look at her and you’d think it happened this morning. She’s in terrible pain. Just terrible.”

“She’ll have to work through it, Ray. Everyone’s grief time is different. Maybe you can get her into some kind of counseling or something.”

“We’ll look at that,” she said. “First, I have to clean her up and feed her.”

Carrie stood back from the deli case. Feeding people was her specialty. “What’s your pleasure?”

“Something with carbs. And a big salad for me. God knows, I don’t need fattening up. If my ass gets any bigger I won’t be able to stay up on these heels.”

Carrie laughed. “The chicken enchiladas are pretty irresistible. And I have some chips, salsa and guacamole.”

“Perfect. And a salad. I can eat a little Mexican food and plenty of salad and she can eat a lot of chips and enchiladas and a little salad. And listen. Would you ask Lou about counselors?”

“I can do better,” Carrie said. “When Ashley was on that downward spiral a couple of years ago, Lou found Gina a great counselor for Ashley. She specialized in young adults, but she might know someone to recommend for Ginger. Would you like me to ask Gina to give her a call?”

“Please,” Ray Anne said. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to convince Ginger to go, but really—something has to be done to move forward. I don’t know what else to do. And her daddy is right—she hasn’t gotten any better.”

“What have you done so far?” Carrie asked as she dished dinner into containers.

“Not much. I told her she couldn’t take a nap until her clothes were unpacked and she’d better turn on her phone or else. And...” She looked down somewhat shyly.

“I bought some lotions and stuff for her bathroom. I always feel better if I’m a little nice to myself. Baby steps,” Ray Anne said.

Carrie smiled. “Just do what comes naturally to you, Ray. You’re not a professional grief counselor but you know a lot about managing your own grief. And you’re very sympathetic.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m trying not to mother Ginger, but I’m thirty years older than she is and even though I haven’t been a mother, it kind of comes naturally.”

Carrie passed the food across the deli counter. “Be yourself. You’re a good woman and you love her.”

“I do love her. She was my little angel.” She dug around in her purse for money.

“Ah, on the house, Ray Anne. Tell her I’m sorry we’re not going out tonight, but this is my contribution.”

Eleven

G
race had always been capable of focus and discipline. She had amazing willpower and she thought with a clear head about what Seth had said. She reminded herself it was a note and not from the person who had threatened her fourteen years ago. She would be careful. Perhaps she’d be overly cautious for a while, but that was all right. She was not going to melt into a sniveling little girl.

In years past, when she was a teenager and the exhaustion or the other competitors or even her mother got the best of her, when she broke down, it got her nowhere. When that happened, when she
cried
, the abuse was even worse. The only thing that had ever worked for her was strength and grit. So she relied on that again. She focused on her abilities. She was small but very strong.

Troy was at the shop as soon as he was done with work. He had to knock on the back door because, feisty or not, she wasn’t an idiot.

“I called Coop and told him I couldn’t help at the bar this week because there’s stuff going on.”

“Let’s not do that,” she said. “Let’s not panic and run scared.”

He frowned. “You shook and had nightmares all night.”

“Yeah, I hope I don’t do that anymore. I’m much stronger and more sensible than that. Go help at the bar—I know how much you enjoy it. I think I’ll get something from Carrie to warm up for dinner. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll text or call you when I’ve closed the shop and gone upstairs. If you want to come by later, that’s okay, but really, you don’t have to. I think I’ll be fine. I’ll lock the back door and even slide a chair against it.”

“This is a pretty sudden shift. What did Seth say to you?”

“Nothing so much—just that Bruno is not a threat and it was only a note, not a crime.”

“Are you sure you’re not in shock?”

She took a deep breath and leaned one hip against the worktable. “Sometimes I forget about my greatest accomplishments growing up because they weren’t medals or ribbons or plaques. Do you know what one of the ESPN commenters said about me when I was fifteen? He said, ‘That little girl is one hell of a fighter. Don’t mess with her.’”

That made Troy smile. “You must regret leaving it sometimes.”

“Never. I was done with that life. I did everything I could do. You can’t imagine what it was like—I don’t even expect you to try. No,” she said, sliding her arms around his waist. “I like this life. And if I ever figure out who would try to screw it up with a scary little note, I’m going to make his life miserable.”

“When I said I wanted you to be brave, I didn’t mean that you should take any chances. I’ll watch the shop while you go get some dinner for later. I want you to call me tonight. Then I’ll come over when I’m off work.”

“I love it when you come over. But you don’t have to babysit me. You had a life before all this, a busy life. We can talk on the phone later, if you want to go home.”

“I think I’ll come over, if it’s all the same to you. At least tonight.”

“Then go home and change, bring your work clothes and laptop...you know the drill.”

“Are you faking brave? Because of what I said last night?”

“No,” she said with a laugh. “I’m faking brave because I just remembered it’s how I get control. It’s how I begin to feel brave. Now stay put—it shouldn’t take me ten minutes to walk down to Carrie’s.”

* * *

Two days later, Troy decided to stop by the deputy’s office after school before going to the flower shop. As luck would have it, Seth was there, sitting behind his desk, one foot propped casually on the desk while he talked on the phone. Another deputy, Charlie, seemed to be working at the computer on the desk behind Seth’s. When Seth saw Troy he made excuses into the phone and disconnected.

“Hey,” Seth said. “Everything all right?”

“Fine. I just thought I should tell you—that stuff I ordered came today. Grace texted me that she got it at the flower shop. Pepper spray and a Taser.”

“Really,” he said, standing up. “Mind if I look at it?”

“No, of course not. But it’s completely legal.”

“Sure. But I’d like to know what you could buy so easily and have delivered in just a couple of days. If you can, anyone can. I’d just like to know.”

Troy shrugged. “Come on, then. There’s a DVD with the package. Should be instructions and safety measures. I’ll feel a lot more comfortable knowing Grace has something handy she can use to protect herself if...well, you know. She had that scare years ago.”

“I don’t think we’re dealing with the same set of circumstances, Troy.”

“I get that, but wouldn’t you feel better, if it was Iris, knowing she had some kind of self-protection?”

Seth laughed. “Have you met Iris’s left hook?” he asked. “I’m not sure I’d arm her on top of that.”

“Grace needs a little something, if only for her confidence.”

“Yeah? Well, be careful. Don’t sneak up on her,” Seth advised. “I wouldn’t mind having a look at the DVD after you’ve seen it. If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” He opened the shop’s front door and yelled, “Gracie?”

“Troy! Come and see! You’re not going to believe how cool this is! It even comes with a
holster
!”

He walked into the workroom and the box stood open on the table. Scattered about was packing material, extra Taser cartridges, two small pepper spray cartridges, a DVD and a catalog.

“Look at this!” she said, turning to one side so he could see the Taser affixed to a leather belt that was far too large. She took a gunfighter’s stance, arms out at her sides. Then she did a fast draw, popped the Taser off the belt, pointed and...

Shot him.

She screamed and dropped the Taser while Troy felt the jolt go through him. He stiffened, trembled and down he went. His hearing was fine, even if he couldn’t move his body. In fact, his hearing was a little too good—Grace wouldn’t stop screaming.

“Troy! Troy! Troy! Oh, my God, Troy!”

All he could do was twitch on the floor.

Suddenly she stopped.

He heard her talking into her phone. “It’s Grace at the flower shop! Send the doctor and hurry! I shot Troy! I electrocuted him! He might be dead!”

As the stinging shock passed, he lay still and pain free, except for the back of his head, which had hit the floor pretty hard. And his right thigh, where the Taser prongs hit. A few more inches and he’d have been a eunuch.

Seth crouched beside Troy, grinning. “Well. That works pretty good.”

“Shut up.”

“Great idea, Troy. Get a figure skater a stun gun.”

“I said, shut up.”

“Good thing it wasn’t a Magnum.” He chuckled. “I don’t think she watched the DVD. What do you think?”

Troy groaned and struggled into a sitting position. There was a small amount of blood, very small, where one of the prongs stuck into his jeans, his flesh. He reached for it and Seth grabbed his wrist.

“Leave it, since Grace called for a doctor. Or I could take it out for you.”

Then she was there, kneeling on his other side. “Oh, my God, Troy! It just fired itself!”

“Because you had your finger on the trigger! Don’t you know you can’t put your finger on the trigger?”

“I didn’t! I mean, I didn’t think I did. Oh, Troy, I’m so sorry! Scott’s coming.”

“Do you see where this is? I’m lucky he isn’t going to pull it out of my dick! Didn’t I tell you not to open the box? You could have neutered me!”

Seth smothered a chuckle as he stood. “I guess you turned it on, right, Grace?”

“The instructions said it wouldn’t fire just because it was armed. You have to turn it on because it runs on batteries, but... Oh, never mind. I didn’t mean to, I promise.” Grace added some tears to her apology, hovering and begging for his forgiveness.

“All right, all right,” he said. “I think you’re perfectly safe from any potential attackers. Might want to work on your aim so you don’t kill the poor bastard.”

“Troy, really, I thought it would take a little pressure to make it fire! I can’t believe I shot you! Oh, God, I’m so sorry. I would never hurt you!”

The shop door crashed open and Scott Grant, breathless, ran in carrying his medical bag.

“Take it easy,” Seth said in a calm voice. “It was just a Taser. He’s fine.”

“
Just
a Taser?” Troy said. “It came a little close to the next generation of schoolteachers! Grace obviously has a shaky trigger finger.”

Right behind Scott was Peyton and their office manager, Devon. Behind them was Carrie, who shouldn’t be able to move that fast with her bad knees. Then crowding into the little shop was Waylan from the bar across the street and at least two of his customers and, in addition, every person who happened to be outside or even driving by when Scott Grant was seen running down the street with his medical bag.

Scott, panting, stopped in the workroom doorway to catch his breath. “Jesus, you took ten years off my life. I thought you shot him!”

“I did, but I shot him with this,” Grace said, reaching for the Taser that lay on the floor where she had dropped it.

“No!” at least four people shouted at once.

Troy grabbed her and pulled her toward him. “Gracie, it’s still got voltage. If you accidentally pulled the trigger again, you’d give me another blast.”

“Oh, God! Troy, this isn’t going to work. I can’t be trusted with one of those things. I’m going to kill someone. I’d be better off with a road flare.”

“Ever hear of the great Chicago fire?” Seth muttered to Scott.

“Shh, I forgive you already,” Troy said. “Just don’t touch it again until we figure it out.”

Scott Grant crouched next to Troy, his open bag beside him. “Why didn’t you take these prongs out?”

“Seth told me not to.”

“We usually have to call medical for that,” Seth said. “Not that I think it’s necessary, but I figured...”

“Not complicated,” Scott said, moving one slightly so it slid right out. They were shaped like small apostrophes and pulling it straight out could make it bleed a little, but wasn’t likely to even require stitches. He then removed the second prong. “There. Feel better?”

“I’m fine,” Troy said.

“I’m not,” Grace said. “I’m not fine. I almost killed my boyfriend.”

“Nah, not even close,” Scott said, standing. “Want a Band-Aid for that, Troy?”

“Funny,” Troy said, standing. “Let’s joke around after you’ve taken your hit.”

“I don’t know how much physical damage was caused, but your mood is definitely affected,” Scott said, smiling.

That’s when Troy heard all the voices from the shop.
She shot him with the Taser. Worried about that note, so he bought her a Taser. It’s just a Taser. Yeah? You ever been hit by a Taser? Damn near killed my cat with one of those! At least something interesting finally happened. Let’s have a beer on that, should we?
And there was laughter all around as the shop emptied of everyone but Seth.

“Damn,” Troy said, giving his leg a shake as if to bring the feeling back into it. “That sucker packs a punch!”

“I’m going to leave now if you think you can manage the situation without further injuries,” Seth said.

“You’re going to tell Iris, aren’t you?” Grace asked.

Seth nodded. “I’m thinking of quitting early. I can’t wait to get home.”

“I’m never going to hear the end of this,” she said. “I guess everyone knows about my note.”

“They don’t all know what it said or how it was written out. Just that it upset you and we’re looking for a prankster. If gossip works like usual around here, I think you’re probably safe.” Then he smiled. “Have a nice evening.”

* * *

Seth was home by five o’clock and Iris walked in right behind him. Iris laughed so hard at Seth’s tale that she could hardly stay upright. “Oh, she’s right, she’s never going to hear the end of it. Poor Grace. How does that thing work? Let me see yours, Seth.”

“Ah, no thanks, Iris. You never touch my weapons, right? Because that wouldn’t be good. You don’t know anything about them.”

“Maybe you should train me,” she suggested, then giggled again.

“You’re doing just fine not touching.”

“Aw, come on,” she said, moving closer to him, sliding her arms around his neck.

Instead of arguing with her, he kissed her. Then he kissed her more seriously, sliding his hands over her butt and pulling her close. After a little more kissing, he said, “I have an idea...”

“Before supper on a Wednesday afternoon? Why, Deputy...”

“Are you expecting company?”

“Only your mother,” she said. “But ever since she caught you in your boxers, she calls ahead if your car is home.”

“Good. Troy said something interesting. He told Grace that a few inches to the left and she could have wiped out the next generation of schoolteachers and I thought, don’t we have work to do?”

“I wouldn’t call it work, exactly.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to do naked?”

“Absolutely,” she agreed. “But then we have to stay in bed for a while.”

“I can do that. I’m very good at staying in bed with you. Are we making any progress on the next generation of deputies and school counselors?”

“I don’t know, Seth. We’ve only stopped using protection for a few months and Peyton said to check with her if we have no results in six months. I’m doing my best. And you are definitely doing your best.”

He kissed her again. “I love when you talk dirty.”

She laughed. “I haven’t started talking dirty yet. I just said you were doing your best...”

“I can do better,” he said, and his voice had grown husky.

A half hour later, as they lay tangled in the sheets, Iris said, “That
was
better.”

“That had to make a baby. That was good,” Seth said. “Maybe two babies.”

“I only want one at a time, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Yes, but I’m staying in bed for thirty minutes to give those little guys time to swim. Then we can get up and eat.”

“We don’t have to get up. I’ll be right back.” He found his boxers and disappeared.

Iris snuggled into the sheets, her head against the pillow. There were so many times, like now, that she couldn’t believe her life had worked out the way it had. She’d loved Seth since she was just a girl, but they’d been estranged for seventeen years while they took different journeys. Hers took her to university and a postgrad program in counseling to bring her back to Thunder Point as the high school counselor. Seth had gone from the football field to a long recovery from injuries he sustained in a terrible car accident, but in the end his choice of law enforcement brought him home. And now he was hers again. All hers.