Blaire stood in the front room hyperventilating, hoping Jackson’s voice would calm her frayed nerves. She’d been ready to head out the door and go for a run when she received the frigging text that sent her bones into a deep freeze.
Karlos had tracked her down, somehow found her unlisted number, and sent her a text, asking her when she was coming home. She was at home. Right here in the house she shared with Jackson. She would never set foot in Venezuela again. Hell, she would never set foot in South America. But then, maybe there was no place she could land and still feel safe.
“Whatever you do, don’t answer him,” Jackson said.
“Do you think I’m stupid?” A barrage of thoughts answered her question. I’m the idiot who got swept away by an evil prince because I felt desperate and needy and unseen.
“Blaire,” he began.
“Don’t answer that.” As she paced, she brought her finger to her teeth and gnawed at her fingertip, since she’d chewed her nails to nothing. “If he’s got my number, he’s got to know my address, too. We’re going to have to move. I’m going to have to move. We can’t live in this town.”
“Calm down, sweetheart,” Jackson said, in his reassuring paramedic baritone. “Knowing someone’s unlisted number doesn’t give them access to your address.”
“Jackson, you don’t get it. I saw him slit the throat of one of his enemies. In cold blood. Slit. Their. Throat. He didn’t know I was watching. I was supposed to be doing my job to trick another unsuspecting woman, trick her into thinking I needed her help.”
A lengthy silence stretched between them. She could picture Jackson’s wheels turning and turning, seeking solutions, while her impulse was to run as far and as fast as she could.
She wandered toward the sliding glass doors. Outside, Maxine and Midget were up to their usual mischief.
“Goddamn it,” she said. “Damn dogs.”
“What?” he said.
“Midget and Maxine dug underneath the fencing you put up to keep my garden safe. They’re in there digging again.” She stormed out the back door. “Bad dogs!”
“You need to be the calm leader,” Jackson said, trying his very best to be soothing, she was certain.
“I’m too freaked out to be calm.”
“Blaire,” he said again.
The faint clang of tones crashed through the phone.
“Damn it, I’m being toned out. You know I can’t leave the station. Is there somewhere you can go to feel safe? Lola’s?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. Okay, okay…deep, slow breaths and all that. I’ve got it,” she said.
“I’ve got to go. We’ll fix this. We’ll keep you safe, promise. I love you with all my heart,” he said. “Every bit of it. All of me.”
That brought a smile to her heart. Her freak-out came to an abrupt halt. “And I love you, too.”
After she hung up the phone, her panic resumed.
Good God, I need to move, to run, anything to stop the fear ratcheting through my body.
She knew Jackson would try his best to keep her safe, but dealing with Karlos was way outside his wheelhouse.
Karlos Rivera was a blood-thirsty maniac.
Feeling like her spirit might eject from her skin, she raced to the kitchen, grabbed the leashes and her keys from the hook on the wall, jammed her wallet in her pocket, and powered back outside.
Both dogs looked up from their digging. This time they didn’t wag their tails. Instead, a sheepish sort of expression fell upon both their faces.
Good. They know they’re not supposed to be in there. Even though Blaire wanted to scream at them, she took one long breath and opened the garden gate.
“Come,” she commanded. She sighed at the dug-up lettuce and tomatoes.
Maxine looked at Midget.
Midget looked at Maxine.
“Come,” she repeated.
Both dogs slunk toward her.
“Sit,” she said.
Maxine wagged her tail.
Midget looked at Maxine.
“Sit,” she repeated.
Both dogs sat.
She clipped the leashes to their collars.
“Now fucking stay,” she blurted.
Maxine wagged her tail again.
Blaire held up her hand, palm out, and said, “Stay.”
They looked at her expectantly.
“Stay,” she repeated, dropping the leashes.
She backed into the garden and picked up two fallen tomato plants. The lettuce starts would have to be repurchased, but maybe she could keep these two alive. Keeping her eyes on the dogs, she carefully inserted the roots of the tomatoes into the messy holes the dogs had dug and patted the soil around the stems. She stood up, wiped her hands on her jeans, and walked toward the dogs.
“Stay,” she said, as eagerness shone in their eyes. She picked up their leashes and said, “Good girls. Good dogs.”
They each lunged to their feet, and their tails spun like helicopter propellers.
She wished she felt the same—with that interlude over, her thoughts veered back to Venezuela. With one leash in each hand, she took off around the side yard and headed for the road.
First stop—town, to get a new phone number.
As her sneaker-clad feet pounded the pavement, the dogs running by her side, her paranoia grew. I should have taken the Honda. What was I thinking? She found herself glancing over her shoulder, scanning yards and open fields, watching for signs of Karlos. What if he’s lying in wait somewhere, machete in hand?
Her pace increased.
A red Mustang slowed next to her and honked.
“Hey, beautiful!” a guy called, leaning out the driver’s door.
She jerked and yelped.
“Fuck you!” she called, picking up speed.
He gunned his engine and the car roared next to her. “I only needed directions, bitch!”
“Get away from me!”
He sped away, giving her the finger out his window.
“Asshole. If you need directions, don’t come on to me,” she muttered.
An unseasonably warm sun beat down on her limbs. Sweat poured from her skin. She glanced down at the dogs, who kept up with her, their tongues dangling from their mouths.
Shit. I’m going to kill the dogs at this pace.
She slowed to a jog.
Two miles later, as she approached downtown, she eased to a brisk walk.
Maxine and Midget matched her speed, still panting.
A one-block-wide park, complete with a water feature, stood between the office supplies store and an artsy knick-knack shop. Water tumbled down a few stones into a small pool. Thinking to let the dogs refresh their palates with some water, she led them to the fountain.
Maxine leaped into the water, jerking the leash from her hands.
Midget followed.
Maxine lay down in the water. It bobbed around her neck and shoulders.
They both greedily lapped at the water.
“No, no, no. Can’t you read? The sign says, ‘Keep dogs out of the fountain,’” she said, pointing to a placard next to the bench placed near the water.
An elderly woman tottered by, glaring at her.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Blaire said. “They got away from me.”
She plunged her hands into the water and grabbed both leashes. Then, she hauled the dogs out of their cool bath.
They shook off their coats, splattering her with water.
Of course. Letting her arms hang for a few seconds, despair dripped from every pore. She felt helpless, out of control… and terrified.
What am I going to do? How could he have found me? And why, after two years?
The dogs stood by her side, fully refreshed and happy.
She dragged her feet along the sidewalk as she headed toward the M-Tron Mobile Phone center.
Once there, she clipped the dogs’ leashes to the bike rack and held out her palm. “Stay.”
Maxine whined.
Midget sat.
“Stay,” she repeated. “I’ll be right back.”
Inside, several customers were already ahead of her. She kept watch on the dogs through the window.
They each kept watch on her.
Finally, her turn came up and she went through the process of justifying a new number with money that could be better used elsewhere—like paying bills. As she exited the store, she typed a text from her phone: J-I got a new number. XO, B
The dogs greeted her as she untied them from the bike rack. She headed toward home.
As she jogged along the side of the road, her spirit lightened somewhat. Take that, Karlos. See if you can text me, now. Maybe Jackson is right. You can’t get someone’s address from an unlisted number
She made a mental note to search that info on the Internet once she got home.
As she approached home, she slowed to a walk and strode along the gravel driveway, proud of herself for only looking over her shoulder a couple of times.
Jackson’s right. We’ll find a way to keep Karlos from finding me.
After putting the leashes in one hand, she headed for the front door and tugged her keys out of her shorts pocket. When the door came into view, she froze.
A large bouquet sat on the front stoop.
Could those be from Karlos?
With shaking hands, she unlocked the front door and opened it. After unclasping the leashes from their collars, she let the dogs into the house.
They trotted in, leaving her on the front stoop.
Moving closer, she searched for his signature flower—he always included one black rose, saying something about the rare rose matched the beauty they were meant for or some seductive bullshit. No black rose. They don’t look like his usual pricey bouquet, either. Her rigid limbs melted. Wow…for a second, I thought they were from Karlos. What a fright. Are they from Jackson? He’s so thoughtful.
She picked up the vase and sniffed the purple iris, fragrant white lilies, and lavender lilacs. Smiling, she plucked the card from the plastic stand between the flowers.
As she read the elegant script, the vase slid from her hands, shattering on the cement landing. The colorful flowers lay scattered among glass fragments and water.
Horror iced her veins. There, written in red ink, the color of blood, stood a single message: Para mi hermosa pequeña canción de pájaro. ¿Extrañarme?
In a strangled, shaky voice, she translated the phrase out loud.
“My beautiful little songbird. Miss me?”