I yelled out, running to Grant. Kneeling beside him, I placed my hand on his uninjured shoulder and leaned across him in a lame attempt to protect him. “What is wrong with you, Kami? You didn’t have to shoot him. He doesn't want to get in the way. I promise. I can't help you, if you're in prison or dead. I can't help you, if I'm dead.” Tears coursed down my cheeks, each one plopping on my hand and spotting the dark color of Grant’s shirt. “Were you trying to intimidate me with that bone pen?”
With the gun still held out, Kami jerked back, her finely plucked eyebrows arching in rejection. “I don't do bone, honey. I'm not tacky.” She moved a little bit further down the driveway, maybe to get the sun out of her eyes to see us better. “And by the way, your character analysis on my series was horrible. It was like you never even read it. Did you? Were you lying when you sent me the critique? It was that awful.”
Shadows from the clouds above us moved across her face. She lifted her gun and narrowed her eyes. That had to be it. I was going to die. Grant was going to die. All because this prima donna writer didn’t like my analysis of her work. Thankfully, I didn’t waste my time on her newest work. I turned my face away and closed my eyes.
A solid bong rang through the air. I half-whirled back, opening my eyes to watch Robyn yank her shovel from across the back of Kami’s head. Kami’s eyes rolled back and she fell to the ground, her gun bouncing away from her.
“Don't ask for help then.” Robyn’s mutter barely reached me as I threw my body over Grant’s chest, in case the gun misfired. My best-friend looked at me and tossed the shovel to the side. She rushed to us, coming to stoop beside Grant and reach out to me. “I already called the cops. They’re on their way. I asked for Paul.”
Inspecting my face, Robyn reached out and pushed a chunk of my hair back. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? I can't believe it was Kami. I thought it was David’s brother. How did you figure it out?”
Sirens sounded in the distance. The Timberlake Fire District was fast in responding. They didn't have much more to do in that area. I was grateful they were so conscientious about their jobs. I ignored the tears still running down my cheeks, unchecked. “He’s hit. I’m not sure how bad.” My voice was hoarse and I chewed on the soft inside of my bottom lip.
The bright red of the fire truck showed through the brown trunks and green needles of the pines shielding Grant’s place from the road. Robyn ran to the end of the driveway to flag them down. She didn’t bother running around Kami, she just leapt over her body as she sprinted toward the end of the driveway.
I squeezed my fingers gently into Grant’s shoulder and leaned over him to check for a pulse. I know he was alive, but I needed to feel it for myself. I had to touch him, feel his warmth.
His eyes fluttered open and he tried to straighten out. “It’s just a flesh wound. I’m fine.” But the pallor in his face proved he lied. Our gazes met.
I pushed my sleeve at my cheeks, minimizing my crying as much as possible. The ache in my chest made me whisper, “I thought I lost you.”
“I need a lot more to happen to me before you could get rid of me. Next time you choose to argue with one of your girlfriends, can you do without a gun pointed at me? It’s hard enough listening to you talk about a man you were both with.” His eyes held mine for an indeterminable amount of time. He winced as the rocks shifted beneath him and we finally broke eye contact.
The reprieve was welcome because I was getting lightheaded from lack of oxygen. He made it difficult for me to breathe.
“Do you think it’s okay, now? Do I need to hide from Paul when he gets here?” I glanced behind me as Robyn walked beside a man with shoulders bulging out of his t-shirt under suspenders.
“You’re going to be fine. I need to do this.” Grant reached up with his good hand and pulled me to him. Our lips crashed together and I forgot about Robyn coming our way and Kami lying on the cement feet from us.
When we pulled apart, the relief that released my shoulders was almost unbearable. Glancing up, I caught Robyn’s questioning glance and I knew I had a lot more to face than a murder charge. Thankfully, I was cleared of that one.
My worry held my hand in place on Grant’s shoulder until the paramedics arrived and wheeled him away on a stretcher.
The following Friday was anticlimactic and I couldn’t be happier.
“Congratulations on finishing your book! Robyn said it’s amazing.” Tesha leaned close and side-arm hugged me as she claimed her seat in the Post Falls Library conference room. She whispered, “And on the other stuff.”
I touched her hand on my shoulder and shared a secret smile with her.
I was back at my house, thanks to Grant speeding up the process with Davis. I'm not sure how he got him to do it, but I was grateful there wasn't any more tape at my house.
The police had collected all the evidence they needed, but didn’t get rid of the blood stain on the porch. Stormy seemed to be just fine. She wouldn’t come to me when I was sitting on the deck, but she had no problem dropping mouse heads by my back door. I hoped they were presents. Mom used to say that the heads were presents and the behinds were curses.
Mom wasn’t a cat whisperer, though, so I’m not sure how reliable her information was.
Craig walked in, more than a couple days’ worth of stubble on his face and his hair hadn’t been tamed. He slid into the back corner seat and I stood, approaching him to make sure he was okay. “Craig, how are you and your wife? I feel bad we outted you. We needed your alibi.”
He sighed, his shoulders slumping in his lined button-up shirt that hadn’t been pressed or washed in a few days. “It's okay. It was bound to happen. We're trying to work things out. We'll see how it goes.” But he looked beaten, as if he was a chained man. “I think I might have to move out.”
Tesha had the grin of someone who had a publishing contract to announce and she started the meeting early. I rushed back to my seat.
As the meeting got underway, she glanced over her shoulder at me and held up three fingers meaning three of her books sold to her dream publishing house. I could get on board with that. I was happy for her, and more than just a little bit bothered by guilt because I suspected her so easily for David’s death.
I hadn’t seen Grant since Kami tried killing him. He went back to work and so did I. Somehow though, the hero of my book turned into a man with brooding eyes. I even fell asleep thinking about those eyes.
Robyn folded her arms and harrumphed next to me. She’d been quiet since we rid ourselves of the threat Kami had become. I hadn’t spoken much to her about anything with a deadline looming and the kiss with her brother not something I wanted to discuss.
“Are you and Ryan fighting again?” I recognized her standard fight stance. I knew when she wanted to talk based on her sounds to bring attention to the matter.
She nodded, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, he was going out with the guys. He thinks we have to fight in order for him to do that. Little does he know, I don't care. I don't need to see him all the time. I prefer it.” She tapped my phone. “You need to check your email. Your editor emailed you. His name is Ethan, huh?”
Ethan? “He’d signed it as Ethan? He only does that when he loved the book.” I grinned. I hadn’t met my long-time editor, but I loved his work and talking with him was easy.
“I would like to bring the attention back to our book signing next month. I hope it’s still okay that I have you marked as the keynote speaker in the afternoon, Olivia?” Tesha held her pencil ready, a look of worry wrinkling the edges of her pink lipstick.
I nodded quickly. “Of course. Robyn and I were just talking about that.”
Tesha nodded and smiled. “Well, let’s adjourn to critiques. Craig, we need to talk about your book. Seriously.”
Things were finally back to normal. I still wasn’t sure who had sent me the bone set. I didn’t want it to be a crazed fan or even anyone I knew.
Either way, I wasn't going to be overly concerned about anything anymore. Finding the dead body on my porch had tromped all other stressors. Some things just didn't need to be worried about.
Except, of course, the fact that I had a signing to be at, another pen name to start, Robyn to train on the existing series, and the kiss with her brother to deal with were stressors. But for the night, I was going to get me another cookies and cream milkshake and ignore my problems.
Hopefully, I could get through the weekend without anymore dead bodies.
**See what Olivia and her writing friends are up to in Twists Like a Knife – book 2 of The Murderous Chapters series. Sign up for my newsletter for more!**