Chapter Three

“So you can replace the tires?” I asked. I barely managed to catch up with Warren just as he was leaving for the day and he kindly allowed me to wheel my bike into the garage behind the All Weather Cycling shop. The walls were cluttered with tools and spare parts and two fancy-looking bicycles were suspended on stands. A shelving unit screened more boxes.

“Of course. Leave it overnight and pick it up in the morning. I'd pump up the tires now and check them except I have to go to my son's recital. I can't miss it.” He smoothed the sleeves of his checkered flannel shirt and rubbed his beard.

“Of course,” I said as I reached for my purse. “How much will it cost? I have cash.”

“Nothing yet. When you get the bike in the morning, you can settle up with me then. I'm guessing I just need to replace the inner tubes since the tires look fine. It's unusual for both to deflate on such a new bicycle but maybe you ran over something.”

“It's possible, although they looked fine when I locked my bike up this morning.”

“Some punctures are slow to leak.” Warren checked his watch. “I really do have to go. I open the shop at seven and I'll take a look at your bicycle after I finish these other two. Come by any time after noon. Hey, Meredith, can you see any oil stains on my shirt? My wife says I always miss something.” He looked down, frowning as he pulled out the hem, examining the shirt for any smudges.

“None at all,” I told him. “And I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon and thank you so much!”

“Of course!”

Despite my intention to take a long bicycle ride to work up an appetite, the walk home was lovely. The air was warm and soft with barely a breeze. It was nice enough that I did not need the light sweater I wore so I paused by a magnolia tree laden with flowers and took both it and my jacket off. After folding them up and cramming them into my bag, I returned the way I came, heading for home. Part of my journey was always accompanied by thoughts of what to cook for dinner. In my previous life, I hardly ever had to cook... much less, wanted to. My life was a long whirl of eating in posh restaurants or nibbling hors d'oeuvres at fancy parties, before I slowly and hesitantly, dropped out of the modeling scene. Even after that, we rarely cooked at home since Brad hated an untidy kitchen... and I had no clue how to prepare the fancy cuisines he favored. I shuddered. It didn't matter how far away that life had become, it still made me shiver. I reminded myself of the techniques I'd learned since, and all the reading I did in place of therapy.

That is not my life anymore. I repeated the mantra and smiled. With that thought, I stood a little taller and pushed my shoulders back. I was my own boss now and damn sure I would be a good boss to my employees too. Even better, I was in charge of my own life in a way I hadn't been in years. It was as refreshing as the summer air around my shoulders.

“Meredith!”

I turned my head without stopping upon hearing my name called, and scanned the street. Seeing Sara Cutler waving from across the road, I stopped, waved, and headed for the crosswalk. Sara was the town librarian and what she didn't know about books didn't exist. It seemed every week she had a new recommendation for me. I ate up her choices of thrillers, romances, and adventure novels, enjoying the light, breezy writing of popular authors and the promise of happy endings. I'd had enough stern literature, with miserable characters and soul-destroying plots to last me a lifetime. Back then, I thought I enjoyed reading all those literary hits but now I realized how caught up I was in the appearances of reading from the Top 10 lists just to offer some pithy insight at the next cocktail party... and to hear Brad tell me how dumb my take was. I used to avoid romance novels, which turned out to be a good thing because now I had so many to read! Sara assured me she had the best reading list for my education.

“I have the perfect book for you,” said Sara with a bright smile on her face as I approached. Her brown hair was swept into a ponytail and soft caramel highlights framed her face. She was dressed in a pretty checkered dress and pale blue flats that showed off her tan legs.

“Historical or contemporary?” I inquired. “Or is it a thriller?”

“Contemporary, but not exactly a romance. I just received the most charming book about a woman who abandons her life on a whim and sets up home in Florence. However, she has a secret. It's heartwarming. You'll love it.”

“Let me guess. It's filled with tempting food, gorgeous scenery, and handsome Italian men.”

“And you have a problem with that?”

“Not one bit.” I giggled. “It sounds perfect. I have three more chapters to read in my current book and then I’ll return it and check out your latest recommendation.”

“You know, you can take out more than one book at a time,” Sara chided me.

“What?! And lose my excuse to visit the library so often? It's become my social hang-out.”

Sara laughed. “You're always welcome there but you should get out more often. When was your last date?”

“Don’t you remember last time?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. Months ago, when our friendship was still in its early days, we both had to run out on terrible dates. I hadn't bothered since.

“Detective Logan! Hi!” Sara grinned and I turned in time to see Calendar's tall, red-headed police detective leaving the shop next to us. He carried a small gift bag. What would he think if he knew I’d pictured the hero in my current book as him? I had to glance away so I didn’t blush.

“’Evening, Sara,” he said, nodding to her, then to me. “And Meredith. Beautiful night,” he added, smiling as he held my gaze.

“Hi,” I said, returning his smile self-consciously.

“Shopping, Sam?” asked Sara.

“Needed a housewarming gift,” he said. “A fancy candle.”

“Everyone loves a fancy candle,” said Sara. She nudged me. “Don't they, Meredith?”

“Oh, yes,” I agreed. “I have several at home.”

“I'm surprised you don't sell them in your boutique,” said Sara. “Have you been there recently, Sam?”

“I don't think she carries anything in my size,” he said and Sara rolled her eyes. “But I've been meaning to come by and ask your advice on a gift. My aunt visited your shop when she last came to visit and her birthday is coming up. I know she bought a scarf from you at Christmas.”

“Come by any time and I'll be happy to help you,” I said.

“Are you ladies heading home?” he asked.

I nodded and Sara grinned again. “Actually, I hoped to persuade Meredith to join me for a drink first. Would you like to be included?”

“I'm still on the clock,” he said. “I have to get back to the station.”

“What you need is another detective,” said Sara.

“As it happens, a new detective is joining us next month. My partner is retiring this year and his replacement has already been approved. It was nice to see you both,” he said, giving us a half wave as he moved past us. “’Bye, Sara, Meredith.”

“He likes you,” Sara said, nudging me when he was clearly out of earshot.

I laughed. “I'm sure he likes everyone.”

“Oh, hardly. Plus, I noticed the way he looks at you. And you always blush when you see him.”

I punched Sara's arm lightly. “I do not!”

“So, shall we?” she said as she pointed down the street.

“Shall we what?”

“Go get that drink? I'd love to catch up with you. And I wanted to invite you to a party I'm having next week.”

“I'm persuaded and in no hurry. What's the occasion?” I asked as we headed toward the bar. We took our seats at the tall table in the window and a server brought over the menu.

“The occasion is... absolutely none! I have no reason for it except I want to throw a party,” said Sara with a grin. “Right now, my garden looks so pretty, I want to share it with others. Jason plans to barbecue and I’ll make a couple of salads and side dishes. Please come!”

“I will,” I decided instantly in the spirit of friendship. Besides, she was right, I really did need to get out more. “And I'm very pleased that you invited me.” We paused to order: a chablis for me, and a rosé for Sara with a trio of small dishes to share. The server returned within minutes, depositing our order on the table.

“You looked preoccupied when I saw you. I had to call your name three times before you heard me,” said Sara, spearing an olive with a cocktail toothpick. She popped it between her lips and chewed it slowly.

“Really? I'm sorry. I was just busy thinking. You know, it's been such a strange day.”

Sara pushed the olives towards me. “I heard about your flower allergy from the delivery guy.”

“News travels fast.” I raised my eyebrows and sipped the cold wine.

“Small town,” laughed Sara before clapping a hand to her mouth. “I hope my garden won't cause you any problems. There are a lot of flowers in bloom.”

“They won't bother me. It wasn't an allergy really. I just said that to cover for... well, I'm sure the delivery guy told you about my reaction.”

“He said you dropped to the floor, wheezing and went as pale as a ghost.”

“I did. But it wasn't because I couldn't breathe or anything horrible like that. You see...” I inhaled a deep breath. “Someone used to buy the same flowers for me and it caught me by surprise.”

“You mean an ex?”

“Something like that.”

“Oh… so you had a panic attack? I get it now. One of my exes used to always buy me red tulips. I think I must have said I liked them once and he simply cottoned on to the idea. I never had the heart to tell him I loved all flowers and any sort would have been a perfectly lovely gift. But red tulips... every... single... time?”

“At least he tried to please you,” I said.

“He did, and he was always very sweet about it. I suppose I should have said something rather than just putting up with it. But back to you... was it because you really don't like the flowers? Or was he just a bad guy?”

“I love the flowers. That is, I did but now they always remind me of a bad period in my life and...” I paused, frowning as another thought sprang to mind, “And that's another concern... weird things keep happening today.”

“Weird? How?”

“Well, there were the flowers, but the card inside was blank. I just assumed someone left them by accident and they weren't even intended for me. But after work, when I went to get my bicycle to ride home, both tires were flat! And I also think someone was in the work room at the rear of my shop earlier... I just don't know how they got in!” I took another sip and described how sure I was that I hadn't unpacked any of the garments from the box but found the contents neatly stacked on the workbench. “I thought I locked the door behind me but the phone rang just at that moment, so maybe I didn’t!”

“How strange!”

“At first, I figured maybe I forgot? But only a couple of days ago, I thought I heard someone trying to get into my house. The doorknob rattled and I thought I saw a shadow pass by the window but no one was there.”

“How frightening! Did you call the police?”

“And tell them what? That my doorknob rattled! They would have laughed and told me to call a handyman to tighten it.”

“I know a guy if it was actually loose,” said Sara, looking unconvinced.

“It probably is,” I agreed, “but it's just strange when all these little, weird things happen at once.”

Sara lay her hand over mine and leaned in. “If you want my advice, always go with your gut feeling. If you think there's something wrong, maybe there is. Don't hesitate to call the police, or me, or any of your friends, if you're worried about anything. I'm sure Sam Logan would have plenty of advice regarding extra security, plus, I think he'd love to be your hero.” She winked and I batted her hand playfully, laughing. Then her face grew more serious. “You can even stay in my spare bedroom if being in the house alone scares you.”

“That's really kind of you.”

“That's what friends are for.”

“I think I'm probably just jumpy because I'm tired. I've been working extra hours to make the boutique a success and today I finally decided to advertise for an assistant. I don't know why I waited so long. I can afford a full-time assistant and I used to have unlimited help at my last job.” Not that I hired anyone specifically as my assistant, but someone was always waiting around to take my coffee order, or bring me food, or touch up my makeup and organize my clothes. Truthfully, I got a little spoiled back then and it was pretty easy to take for granted. The only things I had to give up were my privacy and personal desire to be anything beyond that which others wanted me to be: essentially, a glorified clothes horse. Even after I married Brad, I always had a maid and caterers and concierge services.

“You've never really spoken about your life before moving here. I don't even think I know where you came from.”

“I'm just one of those people who always looks forward,” I said, glancing at my watch as a sense of creeping guilt overcame me. I didn't mean to be so open, but my worries tumbled out and I realized all at once I said too much. Sara probably thought I was just being foolish and insecure, but she didn't know what lay behind my fears. How could she? Every time something happened, like the cluster of little incidents today, I instantly feared that Brad had finally found me. All I wanted to do was go home, secure all the locks and close the drapes, cocooning myself from the outside world. Instead, I was on display here in the window of the wine bar on Main Street where anyone could see me. “Is that the correct time? I really should get home to catch up on some paperwork and make dinner, especially now that I'm walking.”

“We should do this again then. I'm sure we both deserve a night out.” Sara raised a hand and signaled for the waiter.

“Not to that terrible pub again!” I said, smiling when Sara shuddered. “That had to be the worst date I ever went on,” she admitted as we gathered our things. Sara paid the tab, insisting that one nice thing had to happen to me today. “If you hadn't gotten me out of there!” She shook her head. “It all seems so long ago now and yet, like only a few days at the same time.”

“I'll come by the library later this week,” I told her as we parted on the sidewalk.

“Make sure you do!” she called, waving over her shoulder as we went our separate ways.

The wine dulled my edginess slightly but even so, I walked quickly. The early evening remained warm and I tried to enjoy the pleasant walk, greeting some of my patrons and pausing to look in shop windows before I turned off Main Street and headed toward the residential neighborhoods. By the time I reached home, I was in a much better mood. The wine probably had something to do with it, but mostly, I decided, it was the joy of being with a friend. Not only did Sara offer me a compassionate ear but she didn't dismiss my fears either. I could have kicked myself for making the abrupt decision to end the evening. Next time, I would push that rising sense of fear to one side and stay longer, maybe even suggest having dinner out. Perhaps Sara would turn out to be someone I could open up to about my past. She always seemed warm and caring. Indecision grabbed me again. What if she intended to “help” me and inadvertently led him to my door? I barely escaped from my last place, where I thought I might settle, when I caught a glimpse of him in one pivotal moment that was completely unexpected and also anticipated at the same time. As I quickly packed my things, a so-called new friend admitted to sending him a concerned email, thereby revealing my location. I never returned her call. Instead, I left that night, packing my whole life in two boxes that fitted in the trunk of my car. No, I couldn't do that again, I decided as I inserted the key in the lock.

“Meredith!”

I stopped and looked up, the door opening a fraction, and my hand on the key.

“Meredith! I thought it was you. No bicycle today?” My neighbor, Kate DeWitt peeked over the hedge, her curious gaze appraising my small garden up to the porch. I got nervous when I thought she might have been lying in wait for me.

“I punctured a tire,” I told her. “I left it at the cycle shop to get fixed.”

“What a nuisance! Warren charges too much, you know. And the prices of his bicycles? Ridiculous! You should have told me you wanted to buy one. My grandson could have advised you. I cut these flowers from my garden for you,” she said, without drawing breath as she thrust a posy over the hedge.

Leaving the door ajar, I crossed the garden. “How pretty. That's very kind of you, thank you. I hope you didn't go to any trouble?” I said, taking them, and ignoring the rest of her comments. Although the flowers were nice, I suspected she had an ulterior motive to keep me talking.

“No trouble at all. To be perfectly honest, I cut too many this morning and these are more than I need. You'll do me a favor by taking them. Do you have a vase?”

“I'm sure I can find something that will work,” I said. “How cheerful and fragrant they are!”

“Did your friend find you?” Kate called as I stepped away.

I stopped, frowned, and turned. “What friend?”

“Oh, a nice young man that stopped by to see if you were home, I guess, since he was looking in your living room window. I told him you were at work and he said he'd catch up with you there.”

I shook my head. “No one came by my shop. What did he look like?”

“I didn't really examine him. Not a local though, I'm sure of that,” she said as her husband strolled over to us.

“And he said he was my friend?” I pressed.

“Well... no. I guess I just assumed that,” she said, glancing away. I had the feeling there was something she wasn’t telling me. “There you are, dear. I was telling Meredith about the man who came by looking for her. You were already heading out to the car.”

“Was he that awful new realtor that's been hanging around? Not Tony Mausman! He’s a new one that tried to convince my sister, Annie, that she should sell her Victorian house and move to a smaller place. As if Annie has any problems moving around! Old, my foot! He's probably got his eye on your place too. These little cottages sell so quickly,” he said.

“I'm sure the owner of my place isn't interested in selling,” I said.

“Marion does intend to come back someday,” agreed Kate. “She’s such a lovely neighbor. I like to give her updates on the house.”

“I'll tell him to buzz off if he shows up again,” said Mr. DeWitt. “Never mind that he was nice looking and you’re still a single gal. You really should get married soon but I suppose it's hard to catch a man with your height.”

“You could try wearing flats,” chirped Kate as her husband said something about a phone call.

For a moment, I simply gaped at their retreating heads beyond the hedge; then I shook my head and sighed. Kate loved to give me a parting shot and it wasn't the first time she admonished me about not having any man in my life. If only she knew how nice it was!

I jogged to the door and was just stepping inside when I noticed a footprint in the soil by the lavender bush under the window. A large, man-sized boot print. I dusted the print away with the sole of my shoe and rolled my eyes. It wouldn't be the first time someone tried to peek inside my cottage. A lot of people knew that the owner advertised it for a very reasonable rent. I was simply fortunate that she was in a hurry to go abroad when I was ready to move in.

Shutting the door behind me, I locked and bolted it. Then I went through my nightly practice of walking around the small domain, checking every window and door, and making a visual note that everything was exactly as I left it. I actually hated the ritual but I couldn't stop myself from doing it.

Brushing away the annoying thoughts, I headed to the kitchen and deposited the posy in a tall glass before placing it on the window sill. I prepared a light supper, which I ate on the couch with the television airing a sweet country drama. When I finished eating, I took my plate to the kitchen, and helped myself to a large cookie, which I nibbled while the movie finished. I added some more water to the big glass vase full of wildflowers I bought a few days ago, then I folded my laundry into a basket. I decided to read my book instead of doing any business admin, and happily snuggled down under my cream knit blanket to finish it. A steaming mug of hot chocolate on the coffee table, I relished the sheer joy of being alone with a novel.

When I finished reading, I tucked the book into my bag to return it to the library, and washed and put away my dinner dishes, idly wondering what Sam Logan might be doing. I tidied up the living room, making sure the little trinkets I recently added to the mantel were just so, and then went about my nightly routine of brushing my teeth. I had just changed into my pajamas when the alarm on my phone sounded. I grabbed it, checking to see which camera triggered the alert, hoping it was just Kate's prowling cat again.

The camera was blank. I couldn't see a single detail of the garden or anything beyond the pavement. “This is so annoying!” I muttered, walking towards the living room. Perhaps the camera had simply slipped from its casing? Or maybe the wisteria vine had shifted and now covered the lens? I could ignore it, but no. I needed to make sure it was operational before I could sleep.

As I stepped into the living room, a burst of hammering echoed from my door. No, not hammering. Someone was hitting the door hard with their fist!

“Who's there?” I called, tension filling my body. “I know you're out there!” I added when no one answered.

I tiptoed to the door, leaning into the peephole, but I couldn't see a thing. With my phone still in my hand, I entered 911, my thumb hovering over the call button. “I'm calling the police,” I yelled, even though I hesitated. I'd already called them last week and Detective Logan came out. He never said I wasted his time in so many words but I didn’t fail to miss the implication.

A groan replied and a faint word. I wasn't sure but it sounded like “Help.”

What if the voice belonged to Kate and she was hurt and needed me? Would I really ignore her plea and leave her outside?

No! I could answer the door and if anything were truly wrong, I could activate the call. The police station wasn't a long drive and someone would be dispatched to assist me in seconds.

With a shaking hand, I slid back the chain and turned the lock.

As soon as I did, a man crashed through the door, sending it flying backwards on its hinges. When I saw the knife lodged in his chest as his knees crumpled, I screamed. He slumped against me, knocking my hand and sending my phone skidding across the hardwood floor. His heavy weight made me stagger, and trying to push him off was nearly impossible. At the end of the front yard, a shadow moved, a dark flash barely discernible against the hedge. As I fell backwards, my legs collapsing under me from his weight, I came face-to-face with the man's glassy, wide-eyed stare and I screamed again.