Steam rose from the grill, heavy with the scent of frying beef. Shelby stood with spatula in hand, ready to plop four sizzling burgers onto the toasted brioche buns waiting on porcelain plates.
During the years she’d worked with Aunt Bea, she’d worn every hat imaginable—server, hostess, cook, dishwasher and janitor. She’d even covered management-type duties like inventory, ordering and bookkeeping. It had prepared her well for the day she’d had to take over.
Jeri, Pam and Tessa were cross-trained also. They were her full-timers. There were two part-time people, too, women with elementary-school-aged children. They worked as servers and dashed out the door to meet the school bus as soon as the lunch shift was over.
Shelby removed the burgers from the grill, bubbling layers of melted Swiss cheese on half of them. The past couple of days, she’d been confined to the kitchen, at Ryan’s insistence. With only two small windows, both frosted, it was the safest place in the diner.
She added sautéed mushrooms to the burgers with cheese and had just finished dressing the others with condiments when Pam swept into the kitchen.
The older woman eyed the four plates. “Frog sticks?”
Shelby nodded, and Pam moved to the fryer, with its basket of fries suspended over the top. Before she’d settled in North Bend five years earlier, Pam had lived a variety of places around the country, picking up regional diner slang at each place.
After Pam had walked away with the four plates on a large tray, Shelby peeled off the latex gloves and dropped them in the trash. The lunch rush was over, closing only twenty minutes away. She’d take the opportunity to run up and check on Chloe and Addy.
It would be her fourth time today. There hadn’t been any scares. In fact, everything had been quiet since the incident last night. Addy was also keeping an eye on the video feed. If anyone headed up the stairs, she’d run down to the diner with Chloe and alert the police.
As Shelby walked from the kitchen, she wiped the back of her arm across her forehead, smearing what felt like a combination of sweat and grease. Tessa caught her at the bottom of the stairs.
“Just a heads-up, we’ve got an eight top. Mandy’s taking their orders now then heading out. Gail already left.”
Great. Twenty minutes until closing, and a party of eight walked in. But an extra eighty dollars in receipts? Yeah, she’d take it.
The diner phone jangled, and Shelby slipped behind the counter to answer it. When the caller identified herself as Dorothy McConnell, everything inside her tightened into a knot.
“I wanted to apologize for the things my husband said when we visited your place.”
Sure, now that Shelby held all the cards, Mrs. McConnell was meek and apologetic.
The opinion unraveled even as the thought crossed her mind. Dorothy McConnell wasn’t the one who’d threatened her. Robert was. She hadn’t joined him. In fact, she’d seemed uncomfortable. She probably couldn’t control her husband’s actions any more than Shelby’s mom could control her father’s.
Not yet ready to accept the apology, Shelby remained silent.
The older woman released a small sigh. “I guess you know Chloe isn’t Randall’s child.”
“I saw the report.”
“That doesn’t matter to us. She’s our grandchild. We love her the same regardless of who her father is.”
Shelby swallowed hard, trying to tame the nausea churning in her stomach. Was the woman going to ask if she could take Chloe? Or just visit her?
She wasn’t comfortable with either. At first, she’d thought she would have no choice. Her lawyer had advised her that Washington recognized grandparent visitation rights. But Dorothy and Robert McConnell weren’t Chloe’s grandparents, so they had no rights.
Silence stretched between them. Mrs. McConnell seemed to be waiting for a response.
“What are you asking?”
“We want to be able to see Chloe, to take her places, let her spend the weekend with us.”
A vise clamped down on Shelby’s chest. No way would she let Chloe go into that home, even for a visit. Once Shelby gave permission, she might face a legal battle to get her back out.
“I’m going to be frank with you, Mrs. McConnell. I don’t trust your husband.”
“He doesn’t have to be involved.” She spoke quickly, her tone pleading. “I won’t bring her home. I’ll take her to the park, out for ice cream, wherever you approve.”
The vise squeezed harder. “I don’t know. I—”
“You can even go with us. Please let me spend some time with her. I can’t bear the thought of never seeing her again.” Her voice broke on the last statement, shattering some of Shelby’s resolve.
Mia had said the woman was unstable. She wasn’t; she was just grief-stricken. And spending time with Chloe had helped ease a small part of her sadness. How could Shelby take that away from her?
Another image slid into her mind—her mother sitting at the kitchen table, staring out the window at flowers that didn’t stir her, a well-manicured lawn she didn’t appreciate, mountains she didn’t see. From Shelby’s earliest childhood memories, her mother had been a shell of a person, her mind numbed by antidepressants, mentally and emotionally disconnected from life.
Was that what Dorothy McConnell would become? How could Shelby go on with her daily activities, knowing she’d condemned the woman to the same prison cell her mother occupied?
“I need to think about it.” And talk to Ryan. She’d get Addy’s input, too. “But it’s not safe for her to leave the apartment right now. There have been some threats.”
“Against Chloe?” Panic had added shrillness to her voice. “What kind of threats?”
“The day after you guys left the apartment, someone tried to kidnap her.”
“What? Oh, my word! You have someone guarding her, right?”
“I’ve had a security system installed, including surveillance cameras, and someone is with her twenty-four seven.”
Mrs. McConnell released an audible sigh. If her husband was behind the attempted kidnapping, he’d apparently not let her in on it. That wouldn’t make sense. If the man intended to have Chloe forcibly brought to their home, his wife would have to know. Maybe the person who’d attacked Addy and tried to take Chloe wasn’t working for Robert McConnell.
Mrs. McConnell continued. “I’m glad someone is protecting her. Can I call you back tomorrow?”
“Okay.” She’d talk to Addy this afternoon, then discuss it with Ryan tonight. Whatever happened, there was one thing she had to make clear. “If we agree to this, your husband isn’t to know.”
“I won’t say a word. He doesn’t even know I called you.”
As Shelby hung up the phone, Pam walked toward the kitchen waving a handwritten meal order. “Jeri and I got this. You go check on your niece.”
When Shelby reached the apartment, Addy was sitting on the couch, feet propped on the coffee table and a book in her hand. The iPad was next to her.
Addy looked up and smiled. “I just put Chloe down for her nap.”
She laid the book on the coffee table, pages down and open. Judging from the muscle-bound guy on the cover, it was a romance novel.
Shelby shifted her gaze to the iPad. The screen was split into three sections. On the left half, wooden steps descended, the side of the building framing one edge. The rest of the frame displayed an angled section of the alley parking area visible over and through the railing. The upper right frame showed the view from the camera over the diner’s entry door. Below it was a wide view of the parking lot. Any of the three pictures could be expanded to full-screen size with a touch.
Shelby nodded toward the couch. “You’re keeping an eye on that?”
“You bet. I’ve had it with me the entire time, watching people come and go. Looks like the diner’s doing pretty brisk business.”
“It is. The bomb threat Friday doesn’t seem to have scared away my customers.” Shelby eased onto the couch.
Addy frowned at her. “You look like you have something on your mind.”
“I got a phone call this afternoon.”
“From who?”
“Ryan’s stepmom.”
Something flashed in Addy’s eyes, the storm that was always brewing, ready to grow to gale force at the mention of Ryan’s name. “What did she want?”
“She wants to see Chloe.”
“Of course. You told her no, right?”
“I said I need to think about it.”
“You’re not serious.” Addy twisted on the couch to face her more fully. “You should be thinking about getting a restraining order against them, not entertaining thoughts of letting them take Chloe.”
“Not them. She would be seeing her alone. And she wouldn’t be taking her anywhere. I’d be meeting them at a public place, giving her an opportunity to spend an hour or two with her granddaughter.”
Addy’s hands curled into fists and her jaw clenched. “Chloe isn’t that woman’s granddaughter.”
“She may as well be. That’s what everyone has believed for the last year and a half, including Chloe.”
Addy sprang up from the couch and started to pace. “That woman is way out there, and her husband is pure evil. He threatened you. These people tried to kidnap her. Or have you forgotten about that?”
“I haven’t forgotten anything. But we don’t even know for sure it was them. Maybe someone saw an opportunity for some easy money and figured they’d kidnap her and hold her for ransom. From what I’ve seen of Ryan’s parents, they would have paid it.” Shelby sighed. “I don’t feel sorry for Ryan’s dad, but I feel bad for his stepmom.”
Addy stopped pacing to stare down at her. “You know what your problem is? You’re too nice, not anything like your sister. Mia was for Mia and nobody else.”
Shelby flinched at the venom behind Addy’s words. But she couldn’t argue with what she’d said. Mia had always been that way.
Shelby rose and headed toward the hall. “I’ll discuss it with Ryan. But right now, it’s a moot point. Chloe isn’t leaving this apartment until whoever is threatening us is locked up and we know for sure she’s safe.”
Shelby swung open the door, pulled it shut behind her and started down the stairs. If Addy had a response, she didn’t hear it.
The woman was getting awfully opinionated. She needed to understand she wasn’t in charge. Shelby and Ryan were. She’d always include him on decisions that affected their niece. Not because she had to, but because it was best for Chloe.
Maybe things would level out once the threats ended. The stress was getting to everyone—constantly being on guard, never knowing when a killer would strike again. No wonder Addy and Ryan were at each other’s throats.
Addy was at Ryan’s, anyway. Ryan seemed to let her animosity roll off him without feeling the need to engage. Shelby wasn’t used to that in a guy. Too many she knew reacted at the slightest provocation. Too much testosterone and not enough self-control.
Her father reacted, but there was never any loss of control. He carefully selected every word, then aimed them to penetrate where they would do the most damage.
By the time Shelby returned to the diner, someone had turned the sign on the door to Closed, and the table of eight had just been served their meals. She’d never seen any of them before. Though North Bend wasn’t a well-known vacation destination, it saw its share of tourists.
One other table was occupied. Old Mr. Brunner sat alone, a word search book in front of him, open but mostly forgotten. He was her most regular customer. According to Aunt Bea, he’d lost his wife six years ago, and afternoons at the diner and Sunday mornings at church constituted his social life. Most days, he walked in at eleven sharp with his pencil and word-search book, ordered lunch and didn’t leave until Shelby brought out the CD player and whatever music she and the girls had planned for cleanup. She didn’t begrudge him the time or the space.
Turning her back on Mr. Brunner, she moved into the kitchen to help with cleanup. Jeri carried in a tub of dirty dishes and laid it in the huge sink. After spraying the leftover food into the disposal, she arranged the items in the dishwasher. They wouldn’t start cleaning out front until the party of eight left. Shelby would also hold off emptying the cash register until then.
The jangling of the phone overrode the clang of dishes and murmur of voices. Maybe Ryan was calling to let her know he was getting off early. When she picked up the phone, a McConnell was on the other end of the line, just not the one she’d hoped.
“What do you want?” She didn’t try to inject politeness into her tone. If Robert had called to make threats, she would hang up on him.
“That’s what I was going to ask you.”
“I don’t want anything from you.”
“You might want to reconsider. That diner you own has a mortgage.”
“One that’ll be paid off in five years.”
“It could be paid off next week.”
What? Was he planning to pay her for visitation rights? “I’m not interested.”
“How much did Mia’s funeral set you back?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Think what fifty thousand dollars would mean to you. One hundred thousand dollars.”
The man was crazy. “I earn my money. I don’t become obligated to anybody.”
“There’d be no obligation. You could pay off everything you owe, take a fancy vacation and still have the start of a nice nest egg. Sign over your rights to Chloe. Let my wife and I adopt her. We’ll even allow you to have visitation.”
Her jaw dropped. “You must be insane.”
“If you fight me on this, you’re the one who’s insane.”
She snapped her mouth closed as shock gave way to anger. “Keep your money and your threats. My niece isn’t for sale.”
She slammed the receiver into the cradle, thankful she’d never replaced the old phone with a cordless. That action was much more satisfying than pushing a button.
As she backed away from the counter, both her hands shook. She’d just hung up on Robert McConnell. From everything she’d gathered, no one told him no. And no one dismissed him. He’d probably killed people for less.
But in that moment, she was too furious to care.
Ryan lay on the couch, staring into the darkness. The soft glow that slanted in around the curtains didn’t reach into the depths of the room. For the dozenth time in an hour, he flopped onto his back, knees bent, and folded his hands across his chest.
He wasn’t the only one having trouble sleeping. Addy seemed to be as restless as he was. Although she’d been quiet, he’d heard her tiptoe out of the room she shared with Chloe several times. Once she’d made it as far as the kitchen, had a glass of water and then headed back to her room.
As soon as he’d arrived last night, Shelby had told him about the call from his father. The man had tried to buy Shelby’s rights to her niece. Ryan should have been shocked. But he wasn’t.
He couldn’t remember a time when his father hadn’t gotten what he wanted. When he had his mind set on something, he did whatever it took to get it, eliminating any obstacle that got in his way.
Addy had pressured them again to let her take Chloe to Idaho. She was right that there was no more custody battle. But no strangers were going to provide protection for his niece when he could do it himself. Shelby had agreed with him. And Addy had almost blown a fuse.
Ryan shifted back onto his side, legs bent enough to plant his feet against the arm of the couch. He wasn’t any more comfortable in that position than he’d been in the others.
After last night’s argument, Addy had tried to storm out, but neither he nor Shelby would allow it. Other than the initial break-in, no one had targeted her. Even then, the intruder had been after Mia’s phone and Chloe. Addy had simply gotten in the way.
But he wasn’t about to let her venture out alone. If she got into trouble, he’d be faced with the difficult decision of leaving Chloe and Shelby unprotected or letting Addy fend for herself.
So Addy had snatched up her cell phone and stormed down the stairs into the diner. Since she didn’t have the code to disarm the alarm, she hadn’t been able to go any farther than that.
She’d probably called Barry and vented to him. She could vent all she wanted. She wasn’t taking Chloe unless he and Shelby were in agreement with it.
Ryan pushed to his feet and paced the living room, the wood floor making soft creaking sounds. Pacing wouldn’t help him fall asleep any more than tossing and turning had. But he couldn’t lie there any longer. His muscles felt twitchy, like he was itching on the inside.
For the next three weeks, he was going to be living out of a suitcase. Or more specifically, two duffels. They both sat under the coffee table, out of the way but not hidden. There wasn’t room for him to have his own space.
He stopped pacing. Someone stood where the hall met the living room. It was Addy.
She moved farther into the room. “You’re still up.”
He shrugged. “Having trouble getting to sleep.”
“Me, too.” She moved past the coffee table to sit on the love seat.
Ryan returned to his place on the couch, pushing the rumpled sheet out of the way. His weapon was tucked behind one of the couch cushions, handle accessible to him but not to anyone else. He waited for Addy to speak. He usually avoided being alone with her, but she didn’t look like she was entertaining thoughts of flirting with him. She sat at the front edge of the cushion, back straight, hands clasped in her lap.
“Sorry I blew up on you guys. Everything’s getting to me. I’m so worried about Chloe. I just want her to be safe.”
Ryan nodded. He had to be dreaming. Addy hadn’t been this civil to him since he’d turned down her advances. “Everyone’s pretty stressed right now.” He leaned against the back of the couch. “I’m guessing you called Barry.”
“Yeah.” Though it was too dark to see more than silhouettes, there was a smile in her tone. “He’s good at talking me off the ledge.”
Ryan lifted his brows. Usually Barry seemed nervous and uneasy, as if he was the one who needed to be talked off the ledge. Of course, Ryan only saw him when Addy was around. The guy probably stayed on pins and needles, terrified he’d make some blunder that would cause Addy to send him packing.
“Once this is over, I’ll be fine.”
While Addy had been downstairs allowing Barry to cool her down, Shelby had made a decision. Once the danger was over, she was putting Chloe in day care or finding a licensed person who cared for children in her home. Ryan had agreed.
Maybe they’d both renege on the decision. It would depend on whether Addy kept the promise she’d just made.
Addy stood. “Try to get some sleep.”
“You, too.”
After Addy walked away, he picked up Shelby’s iPad from the coffee table. Three scenes displayed in varying shades of gray. Nothing moved in any of the views. Addy had wanted to keep it with her. She’d said that she’d been watching it all day and might as well continue.
Ryan had argued that since he was the one sleeping closest to the exterior door, he needed to be able to check the video feed the instant he heard a possible intruder. Shelby had agreed, and Addy had relented, without the temper tantrum.
After fluffing his pillow, he lay back down and pulled the sheet over him. With the T-shirt and nylon gym shorts he wore, and the thermostat set at sixty-eight, the light sheet was perfect. He closed his eyes and tried to quiet his thoughts.
Shelby had also talked to him about the conversation with his stepmother. He’d sided with Addy on that one. He didn’t know whether she’d broken her promise and talked to his father, or whether his father had initiated the second call on his own.
But Ryan wasn’t taking a chance. As long as Dorothy was married to his father, he wouldn’t trust her with his niece.
A howl rose outside, then retreated as a wind gust swept through. A storm was moving in again. This one was supposed to bring only rain. Lots of it, accompanied by strong winds. How fitting. The chaos outside would mirror the chaos within.
Eventually, the rain started, tapping against the roof in a soothing rhythm. His thoughts gradually grew random as sleep moved closer. Sound faded in and out. Then there was nothing.
His eyes snapped open. He was lying on his side, every muscle drawn taut.
The howls of the wind were much more intense, almost constant now. No longer a pitter-patter, the rain had become a roar. Was that what had awoken him, the ferocity of the storm?
He sat and snatched the iPad from the table. Movement drew his attention to the top right frame.
A raincoat-clad figure moved down the stairs, away from the camera, the vinyl hood covering the person’s head. He clutched an object in his right hand, something thin and long. Maybe a demo tool, like a flat bar.
Something to pry the door with.
Ryan snatched his weapon and sprang to his feet, tossing the iPad back on the table. When he swung open the door, the alarm began to squeal and rain soaked him instantly. Squinting against nature’s fury, he charged outside and stepped...into thin air.
He grabbed for the handrail, but the slick board slid through his grip. One shin slammed into something on the way down, and his weapon clattered to the asphalt.
His body came to a bone-jarring halt against two adjacent framing boards that had supported the floor of the landing.
A floor that was now missing.
As he hung suspended in the darkness, the assailant crossed the railroad tracks and disappeared into the woods. The squeal prompting the entry of the code changed to an ear-piercing siren. Now the system would notify the police.
He lowered himself the rest of the way through the four-foot-by-two-foot opening in the framing and dropped to the ground. His shin was screaming. So were his chest and the undersides of both upper arms, where he’d caught himself against the two-by-sixes. Next to him was a haphazard pile of deck boards.
He looked up, and the living-room light came on, illuminating the still open doorway. The landing light was off, the bulb likely unscrewed. Panic shot up his spine. Addy and Chloe wouldn’t know about the missing deck boards. If either of them stepped out...
He limped toward the base of the stairs, waving his arms and shouting. But the alarm’s wail and the howl of the wind swallowed his words. When he was halfway up, Shelby’s head appeared in the open doorway. His heart stopped.
Her eyes dipped to what was left of the landing, then snapped to him. “Are you hurt?”
When he reached the top, he stepped on one of the framing members, then into the apartment, closing the door behind him. Without answering, he punched in the code and the alarm fell silent. Sirens sounded in the distance.
“Call 911 and tell them to look for someone in a raincoat. He ran into the woods. And when they come up to the apartment, watch for a missing landing.”
After Shelby finished the call, her eyes swept him up and down. His T-shirt was soaked, and his gym shorts stuck to his legs, the fabric clingy and ice-cold. Rain dripped from him, joining what had accumulated while the door had been open.
“I’ve gotten water all over your hardwood floor.”
“I don’t care about the floor.” Shelby’s voice was higher-pitched than normal. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay.” But now that the extra adrenaline was dissipating, everything was throbbing.
He looked past her to where Addy had entered the living room, her eyes droopy with sleep. She’d apparently gotten past her insomnia, too.
Shelby’s voice drew his gaze back. “Your leg.”
Her eyes had locked onto the part of his body that was screaming the loudest. Several inches of his left shin were scraped raw.
“It’s just surface.” Maybe. He’d likely bruised the bone. He must have instinctively jerked back his leg while falling or he’d have done serious damage to his kneecap.
Shelby dragged him toward the kitchen and pushed him into a chair. After pulling a clean towel from the drawer, she ran cold water over it. “Tell me what happened.”
“The storm woke me up.” Or maybe it was the distinctive sound of boards being pried up, the creaking of nails sliding through wood. “When I looked at the video feed, someone was walking away. I ran out and stepped right through the landing.”
She dropped to her knees in front of him and touched the cool, wet towel to his shin. He winced, then relaxed, the pressure painful but the cold soothing at the same time. Or maybe it was her touch that he found so soothing.
She rose, then pulled a chair in front of him, positioning his foot on it, leg bent. She’d just finished filling a zippered plastic bag with crushed ice and wrapping it in another towel when a knock sounded on the side door.
She handed it to him and he held it against his leg. A few seconds after she disappeared, the door creaked open. When she returned to the kitchen, an officer followed her. His nameplate said Harris. Shelby had called him “Grady.” As owner of a popular diner, she probably knew most of North Bend.
Buff and close to Shelby’s age, he had dark hair, dark eyes and what looked like a killer tan. Considering it was March in Washington, the golden-brown skin tone was likely due to some Spanish blood rather than time in the sun, despite the English surname.
“Someone tampered with the landing and Ryan stepped through. He could have been seriously injured.” The fire that lit her eyes warmed him inside.
Harris pulled up a chair. “Tell me what happened.”
As Ryan relayed the events of the past fifteen minutes, the officer scrawled notes in his pad. He already knew about the other threats, including the bomb. Likely the whole department had been briefed.
When Ryan finished, Harris closed the pad and slipped it into his pocket. “We searched the area when we got the update, but didn’t see anyone out and about. My partner’s still looking around. With this downpour, there won’t be any prints we can get.”
He rose. “Looks like Shelby’s taking good care of you.” He smiled down at her, his gaze warm. “She’s a special lady.”
Ryan nodded, something uncomfortable shooting through him. It felt a lot like jealousy. Where had that come from?
While Shelby walked Harris to the door, Ryan lifted his arms to study their undersides. The skin was already turning reddish purple, bruising that would likely get worse over the next few days.
After shutting the door, Shelby returned to the kitchen and whirled on him, eyes stony. “You need to leave.”
“What?”
“Go back to your apartment.”
He shook his head, trying to clear it. What did he do to tick off Shelby?
She planted both hands on her hips, staring him down. “I’m not going to see you hurt trying to protect me.”
Now it made sense. “I’m not only protecting you. I’m also protecting my niece.”
“Nobody’s trying to kill Chloe.”
He laid the wrapped bag of ice on the table and pushed himself to his feet, stifling a groan. Letting her tower over him while they argued put him at a disadvantage. “No, they’re not trying to kill her, just kidnap her.”
“We don’t know that they’re even trying to do that anymore. Right now, he seems to be after just me.”
“Which is precisely the reason I’m not going anywhere.”
“Tonight’s threat targeted you.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Who was most likely to step out on that landing to investigate suspicious activity? Someone is upset that you’re here and retaliated against you.”
She had a point. But he wasn’t willing to leave her unprotected any more than he was willing to leave Chloe.
She continued her tirade, slicing her hand through the air to emphasize her words. “I refuse to put you in the line of fire.”
It was the first time he’d heard Shelby raise her voice. She stood before him in her lavender pajamas, hair a riotous mass of auburn waves, eyes flashing.
And he wanted nothing more than to kiss her. The urge swept over him with the force of a tsunami but with a lot less warning. He needed to get a grip before he did something stupid. Over the past half hour, his emotions had been all over the spectrum—panic as he fell through the landing, anger watching Shelby’s enemy escape yet again, helplessness at not being able to stop him.
Or maybe it the way the cop had looked at her that had him teetering at the edge of his control. The man had eyed her with warmth and appreciation, the way a man admires a beautiful woman.
What did it matter? Ryan had no claims on her. He didn’t plan to in the future, either. There was no reason for it to bother him. But it did.
He crossed his arms, the action infusing him with strength. His number one priority was protecting her and Chloe. He wasn’t going to let errant emotions distract him. “I’m staying.” His tone was low, determination giving it a hard edge. “Unless you intend to file a restraining order against me, you’re going to have to put up with me for the next three weeks.”
When it was time to report back for duty...
Well, he wasn’t leaving her then, either. Since going AWOL wasn’t a viable option, he had one choice: find out who was targeting her and put the creep behind bars.