Tim sat at the square table in the Petrovs’ dining room with Vickie on his right, looking beautiful in green, with her blond hair loose about her shoulders. He couldn’t help but notice how she fidgeted in her seat.
He only wished there was some way for him to ease Vickie’s worry. Arresting the maniac would make her feel safe. Make them all feel safe.
The unsigned gift was a concern, but Tim was sure Greg was the sender. The man had made it clear he thought he had a claim on Vickie.
Not likely. She was too good for Greg. Too good for Tim, too, for that matter. She deserved someone well-adjusted and willing to give everything to her. That wasn’t Tim. He’d tried going all in before with disastrous results. He wasn’t willing to try again.
The other seats at the table were taken by Irena and Sasha. Frodo lay near the back door, his head resting on his crossed paws.
The delicious breakfast of sweet rolls with raspberry jam and butter, poached eggs and sausage, along with potato dumplings, would keep Tim going all day and into the next. But it was the lively conversation and the comfortable way the Petrov family welcomed him and Frodo into their home that filled him with yearning.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a home-cooked meal that didn’t involve one or more of his fellow agents. The Tactical K-9 Unit members were as close as he came to having family, but sitting here with Vickie and her parents stirred a need to belong to something more. To someone more.
His chest tightened. He knew from painful experience what happened when he let down his guard and gave in to the need for more. Heartbreak waited at the end that path. A path he wouldn’t travel again.
Sasha stretched. “As always, my dear, scrumptious.”
Irena touched her husband’s arm with a loving smile. “I’m glad you enjoyed your breakfast. Now you may help with the dishes.” She rose and gathered the empty plates and took them to the sink in the kitchen.
Sasha pushed back his chair. “Vickie, why don’t you and Tim visit in the living room while your mother and I deal with the cleanup?”
Tim stood. “I can help.”
Sasha waved him off. “You’re our guest. Please. This won’t take long. Then we can play a game or two before we head to the bakery. We’re going to provide food for the homeless shelter again.”
The thought of staying with the Petrovs for merriment and serving the people staying at the shelter appealed to Tim, but he was scheduled to work. “I can’t stay. I’m on duty again today. I need to get to headquarters.” He’d make sure an officer stayed close to the family all day.
“Isn’t today a federal holiday?” Vickie asked.
“It is, but someone needs to be available to take any calls that come in,” Tim told her. “I’m due to relieve the morning shift.”
Sasha stuck out his hand. “Ah. Well, I wish you a Merry Christmas then.”
Tim shook his hand. He liked the older gentleman. “Thank you, sir. Merry Christmas to you, as well.”
Irena returned to the dining table and linked her arm through her husband’s. “Thank you for taking time to spend with us this morning.”
“My pleasure,” Tim replied. “This was the best Christmas breakfast I’ve ever eaten.”
Irena beamed. “That’s so sweet of you to say.” She turned to Vickie. “Offer our guest some chocolate to take with him.”
“Yes, Mom.” Vickie rose and gestured for him to follow her to the living room.
He whistled and Frodo jumped to his feet. They followed her.
Tim had noticed the large decorated tree showcased in front of the bay windows, and liked the colorful ornaments. And the three Christmas stockings hanging above the gas fireplace from gold-plated mantel holders that spelled out the word joy.
The room was cozy and festive, just as a home should be at Christmas. He liked it. His apartment had no decorations, no tree and certainly no stocking waiting for treats.
“Do you always work the holidays?” Vickie asked. She went to the tree and plucked a small wrapped gift from a branch.
“Usually,” he said. “That way the others who have family can spend time with their loved ones.”
She stopped in front of him. “It makes me sad to think of you alone at Christmas.”
He appreciated her concern. “I’m not alone. I have Frodo.”
“That’s an interesting name to choose for your partner,” she commented. “A fan of Tolkien?”
“Yes. Very much so. Frodo was brave and determined. Qualities I saw in this guy when I met him,” Tim said, with a glance at the dog sitting beside him.
Vickie held out the present. “This chocolate comes from the Ukraine. My parents have it shipped over every year, and we give a box to those we care about.”
He closed his hand around the gift and her warm, slender fingers. “I’m honored to be included in the category of people you care about.”
A blush tinged her cheeks. She slipped her hand away. “After all you did for us and the homeless shelter yesterday, you’ll receive chocolate every year.”
He held her gaze. “I do love chocolate.”
“It’s good for the heart.”
Though he knew she meant physically healthy, he couldn’t help the way her words wound around him, making him want to open his heart to her. A dangerous idea that wouldn’t serve him well. He wasn’t looking for romance. She was a victim of a crime and it was his job to protect her. Nothing more. He didn’t need to be with her to make sure she was protected, no matter how much he enjoyed spending time with her.
Yet he found himself saying, “When you head to the shelter, let me know. I’ll come help you.”
Her eyes widened. “That would be lovely. Thank you.”
She opened the front door.
They both glanced up at the decorative ball of mistletoe hanging from the porch eave, then their gazes met and held for a moment before they both grinned.
“My dad’s doing,” she said. “He and Mom are hopeless romantics.”
A chuckle escaped him. The Petrovs were a charming family. Especially Vickie. “I’ll see you later.” He ducked out the door, careful to skirt around the mistletoe and moved quickly across the porch. No need to stop and linger even if he’d like to.
Later that afternoon at the bakery, Vickie finished packing the last box of food ready to be taken to the temporary homeless shelter. Slipping into her father’s office, she called the number Tim had given her for his cell phone. Her heart beat in her ears as she waited for him to answer, eager to hear his voice.
His voice mail picked up. She kept her disappointment in check as she left a message that she was heading to the shelter.
When she stepped out of the office, her mom was checking on the fruit pies in the oven. “These have another fifteen minutes or so to go.”
Vickie glanced at the clock on the wall. Four thirty. “We told Pastor John we’d be there at five. How about I take over the boxes and you and Dad can bring the pies when they’re ready to be transported?”
Concern darkened her mother’s eyes. “We all came together. How will you get to the shelter?”
“I’ll ask Officer Reeves to drive me.”
Tim had made good, once again, on his promise of making sure they had a guard to keep them safe. Officer Reeves sat in the dining area enjoying her mom’s coffee cake. He was a rookie with the Billings police department and very nice. He readily agreed to accompany Vickie to the shelter.
Bundled for the cold, Vickie and the policeman left the bakery in his patrol car, then had to park on the other side of the snowed-covered grass because the plows had pushed all the snow to the sides of the street, blocking the parking spaces. The crunch of their booted feet on the salt-covered sidewalk masked the sound of the surprising amount of traffic on the roads, considering it was Christmas Day.
“Thank you for helping me with these,” Vickie said, nodding toward the box in Officer Reeves’s hands, while she adjusted the one she carried.
“No problem,” he replied. His held condiments and two containers filled with her mom’s potato salad. “The fresh air is good for the soul.” He grinned. “At least that is what my grandmother always tells me.”
“Wise words.” Vickie adjusted her grip on the box filled with sweet rolls, savory rolls, sandwich breads and an array of deli meats and cheeses.
A slither of sensation along her nape raised the fine hairs at the base of her skull. She glanced behind her. No one was there.
Paranoid much? she asked herself. She studied the cars passing by on the street, remembering the squeal of tires when the dark sedan had tried to run her and Tim down.
“It would be shorter cutting across the community park than staying on the sidewalk,” Vickie said, as they neared the corner where the street diverged around the tree-filled green space.
The sense of being watched shivered across her flesh, again urging her to move quickly into the park. Officer Reeves marched along a few paces behind her.
An odd sound had her glancing back to ask if he was okay, but the words died on her tongue. The officer was face-first in the snow, the box he’d been carrying beside him. Had he fallen?
She spun awkwardly, intending to rush to his aid, but was stopped by hands clamping down on her shoulders and dragging her backward. She dropped the box in her arms as a wave of fear crashed into her, stealing her breath.
Jerking and twisting in an effort to free herself, she jabbed her elbows backward, but her assailant kept out of reach. An arm wrapped around her neck, pressing painfully against her throat.
A male voice hissed into her ear, “You’ll pay for talking to the cops.”
Clawing at the arm choking her, she tried to make sense of his words. Pay? “Please! Let me go.”
Panic fueled by adrenaline infused her. She couldn’t be a victim. Not again.
Save me, Lord.
She kicked backward and tore at the arm holding her. Her attacker lifted her off her feet and slammed her to the ground, burying her face into the snow. Icy wetness stung her cheeks and slipped beneath the collar of her coat. She kicked and punched as best she could, but the lack of oxygen caused the world to swim and fade. She was being choked and smothered.
Please, Lord, I don’t want to die like this.
From a distance she heard a dog’s furious barking.
Spots danced before her eyes. Her lungs ached. Terror ripped at her mind. She despaired of ever seeing Tim or her parents again as the world went dark.