Page 23 of Secret Stalker

Chapter Eight

Bex parked her mom’s ancient Ford Taurus in front of her lawyer’s office and cut the engine. She would have much preferred to take her own, far newer SUV, but until she could get the windshield replaced, the Taurus would have to do. Hopefully she could get her car fixed soon and get out of town. It was as if the universe was against her, throwing obstacles in her path to keep her from leaving.

Just this morning, she’d come across more of her mom’s things packed in the attic. And she’d spent most of the day sorting through them and figuring out where to take them. It wasn’t like she could throw away homemade quilts and other keepsakes her mom had collected over the years. But Bex didn’t have room in her condo to hoard everything, either. So she’d kept the more sentimental of the items and spent hours driving around Destiny delivering the rest of them to longtime friends of her mother.

That had taken even more time, of course, since she couldn’t just walk up, leave her mom’s things, and not stay and visit. That kind of rudeness would have made her mother ashamed to call her daughter. So she’d done her duty, answering her mom’s friends’ questions about what she’d been doing all these years. Telling them about the antique store she ran with her best friend in Knoxville, building a comfortable life for herself, if not an exciting one.

The close-knit group had known about her, of course. They’d known that her mother visited Bex several times a year. They also knew that her mom had forbidden Bex to come to Destiny because she was so worried about the shadow of her past hanging over her head.

Her mom had been nothing if not protective. And her friends had served her well, keeping her secret until the very end. They were also steadfast in their support of Bex, flat out telling her they knew she was innocent, that she hadn’t killed that stalker-boy. Their support had Bex so close to tears she’d almost broken down in front of them.

Now she was finally alone once again, back in town with another task to finish. But even though she was anxious to be done, she hesitated to get out of the car. Glancing in the rearview mirror at the grocery store across the street sent a chill of dread racing up her spine.

She’d been so lucky to have escaped not one but two shootings without serious injury. But she couldn’t count on Max always being there to protect her. Bad things came in threes, didn’t they? Her mom’s death had been the first terrible blow. Hopefully the two shootings counted as the second and third bad things and nothing else would happen before she could escape this town again.

She shoved the door open and headed into the two-story office building. The exterior door opened onto a short hall with a bench and another door at the end that she knew from previous visits was the bathroom. She stepped past the bench and through the open doorway into the reception area.

Her attorney’s assistant looked up from some papers on her desk and gave Bex a brilliant smile, as she did with everyone.

“Miss Kane, so nice to see you again. Are you here to make an appointment?”

Bex smiled at the elderly woman who was just as perfectly put together as her dapper employer. Martha couldn’t be a day younger than seventy, but she got around just as well as women half her age and looked like she could have graced the pages of a fashion magazine. Bex had loved the kind woman the moment she’d met her and always felt lighter in spirit after talking to her.

“Hi, Martha. It’s good to see you, too. I don’t have an appointment, but Mr. Leonard said I could stop by anytime to sign a power of attorney.”

“Oh, sure. Of course. I can take care of that for you. No appointment needed. Good thing, too. Because he’s got someone in his office right now. I wouldn’t want you to have to wait. Have a seat while I get the form.” She waved toward the row of cushy leather chairs against the wall across from her desk.

Bex murmured her thanks and settled into one of the chairs as Martha headed down a hallway behind her desk to what Bex assumed was a storage room. The building was small, housing the one-lawyer office downstairs and living quarters for Mr. Leonard upstairs.

She glanced to her right at the closed door to her lawyer’s office. She would have liked to tell him goodbye before leaving town. But even if she had to wait another day for her windshield to get repaired before she returned to Knoxville, she doubted she’d come back to her lawyer’s office before then. In town, she felt too exposed, vulnerable.

Max’s warnings, his encouragement for her to let the chief assign someone to protect her hadn’t fallen on deaf ears. The only reason she’d refused the offer was because she didn’t trust the chief, or any of the Destiny police, except Max. And he hadn’t exactly jumped at the chance to be the one to protect her.

Max. Just thinking about him had her chest hurting again. Would he be happy once she was gone so he could get on with his life again, without her interference? Without her bringing up memories he’d much rather forget?

Leaving would make it more difficult for him to conduct his investigations into the shootings. But other than that, would he miss her? The idea seemed ludicrous given that every conversation they’d had was fraught with tension and anger. All she knew for sure was that she would miss him. Or maybe it was the idea of him—the way they’d been as a couple. Bex and Max, always together, so much so that friends had taken to calling them Mex—which she hated but that Max had thought was funny. So funny that he’d teased her that they should move to Texas someday and be Tex Mex.

It was amazing how quickly the years could melt away after seeing someone again. She wondered how long it would take before she could go a whole day without thinking about him. It had taken years to get to that point the last time. She didn’t imagine it would be any easier this time. He wasn’t the kind of man a woman could easily forget.

The click of sensible heels on hardwood floors heralded Martha’s return. With clipboard in hand, she crossed the room before Bex could climb out of the chair she’d sunk into.

Martha waved her to stay seated. “No need to get up. I know how those chairs are. They grab you and hold on. Augustus needs to put something harder and less comfortable in here.” She handed the clipboard and a pen to Bex. “You can read over this and fill it out right there. As soon as you’re done, I’ll make sure you signed everywhere you needed to sign and then I’ll notarize it and give you a copy. Take your time.”

Bex thanked her again and read through the form. Everything seemed straightforward. She initialed a couple of paragraphs where Martha had marked an X and then signed the bottom. Now to climb out of the person-eating chair. She set the clipboard on the little table beside her and grasped the arms of the chair.

Suddenly a large, familiar tanned hand appeared in front of her to help her up. She selfishly allowed her gaze to travel up him a bit more slowly than she should, enjoying every little piece of scenery the trip revealed—from his narrow jeans-clad hips with the oversize rodeo-style belt buckle to his flat waist, the soft-looking forest green shirt that revealed a small dark matting of hair at the V of his neck. But no matter how much she tried to prepare herself for the final destination, her breath still caught when she viewed his handsome, angular face and those amazing warm brown eyes that seemed to tug at her very soul whenever he looked at her.

One of his dark brows arched and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You okay, Bex? You seem a little preoccupied.”

She put her hand in his, savoring the warm feel of his skin against hers as he effortlessly tugged her out of the chair. And loving that he seemed in a better mood today, gifting her with a smile.

“I was just thinking it was about time you showed up,” she teased, feeling happier for some reason.

“You were expecting me?”

She reluctantly pulled her hand from his and smoothed her blouse over her khaki pants. “I’m getting used to you saving me. And I’m pretty sure my life was in danger in that chair.”

His smile widened. “I’ve heard small children have disappeared in those monster chairs.” He glanced around, nodded at Martha. “I thought I might find you here. When you’re done, maybe I can take you to Eva-Marie’s for dinner. I want to update you on a few developments. And maybe if I ply you with some of Eva’s homemade pecan pie, I can convince you to work through your fear of the police station and come in to give a formal statement.”

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