Page 25 of Mountain Freedom
Jackson.
The thought of him and his sweet smile conjured images of him being across from me in this very bath, lazily stroking a hand up my leg, and leaning forward for a kiss…
My eyes popped open and I sat up straight.Thatwas out of line for a platonic friendship. But it didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t. Seeing him had been comforting and pleasant, and my mind had simply associated those feelings with the comfort of the bath. It meant nothing, and it wouldn’t happen again.
In the middle of my internal lecture, I heard a noise that caught my attention. I held my breath, listening. It almost sounded like scratching noises, like…like something—or someone—was scratching at my door.
Images of all the horror movies Mike had forced me to watch flooded my mind.
The noise stopped, and I breathed again, lying back in the tub. It was probably a branch. Was it windy? Not that I remembered. But it could have been a stray cat or something. Or even my imagination. Perhaps my brain was inventing a distraction from the uncomfortable lecture I was giving myself about Jackson. That was entirely possible.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, attempting to sink back into a zen state. But as I did, I heard the noise again.
I sat back up, my heart pounding. This wasn’t going to work. As silly as it might be, I couldn’t relax until I knew for sure what was causing that noise. Once I figured out what was responsiblefor it, I could get back into the bath and ignore it. But until then, I would just keep spooking myself.
I reluctantly left behind the warmth of the tub, quickly drying off with a towel before slipping into my fluffy pink robe. I padded barefoot into my room to check those windows first. The trees grew close around the back of the house, and a tree branch scratching the window was the solution I was hoping to find.
Even if logic suggested I would have heard the noises the night before if that were the case.
Still, I methodically checked all the upstairs windows, feeling a pang of disappointment when I realized they were all clear. The trees grew close, yes, but notthatclose. There weren’t any branches within a foot of any of the windows.
I slipped my cell phone into the pocket of my robe before heading downstairs. I didn’t hear the noise anymore, and I hoped that meant it was an animal that had been scared away. A stray cat would make sense. Maybe a previous tenant here had even fed one, invited it in sometimes, and it was just looking for its next meal. There were raccoons in the area too, and there could be one looking for food—or even a squirrel trying to make a home somewhere.
I looked out all the windows and saw nothing. There was really nothing left to check except the two doors, but the idea of opening them felt like a mistake. Unless it reallywasa stray cat, in which case I felt terrible about the idea of it being alone and hungry. I stood in the hallway, paralyzed with indecision, waiting to hear the noises again. They never came.
Finally, I gave up. It had likely been an animal, but whatever it was was long gone. I should have stayed in the bath like a reasonable adult. Now, the moment had passed, and I might as well just turn on a TV show—for entertainment, I lied to myself, despite knowing I would simply feel safer with some background noise.
Chapter Ten
Jackson
I wokeup bright and early the next morning to squeeze in a run before I headed in to work. Running was more than good for my body; it gave me time to let my mind wander. It was usually during that time that I would think of an angle I hadn’t yet considered and crack whatever case I was working on.
When Sheriff Morrison had started an investigative division, more than a few people had laughed at the idea. We were a small county with a small budget to match. Detectives were for big cities, everyone protested. It would be a meaningless title here in Rosemary Mountain, where there was supposedly nothing to investigate—nothing that required a deputy’s full attention, anyway.
But they had been proven wrong, and as they had begun to realize just how useful I could be, I had gotten busier and busier. Sure, most of my investigations were for minor, petty stuff. A lot of them were drug related. But we had worked a few homicides, and I had even helped out on a high-profile case involving asenator from California. I was proud of my work and grateful the sheriff had seen fit to pick me for the responsibility.
But today as I ran, my mind wasn’t on my official cases. I couldn’t stop thinking about how Russell kept popping up. Last night, when I had walked Allison to her car, someone had slipped behind the building into the shadows. I didn’t get a close look, but my gut said it had to be him again. He was following me—and had potentially broken into Allison’s car while we ate. But why?
He had asked for money, but I had made it clear I wouldn’t give it. He had too much pride to keep pushing for it. If he was ready for me to hook him up with a job, he wouldn’t go slinking around in the shadows.
The words he’d spoken to me last time came back. “You’ll get what’s coming to you, boy.”When I was a kid, those words had meant there was going to be pain—and lots of it.
But things were different now. Truth was, I knew he was at least a little afraid of me. He had to fear that, if he ever gave me the chance, I’d gladly give him a taste of his own medicine. That’s what he would do in my shoes. Revenge was Russell’s middle name, and like he always said—his blood ran through my veins.
He was getting older, and a lifetime of drugs and alcohol had left him looking thin and frail. I, on the other hand, had turned to exercise as the very best free therapy, so I would easily outmatch him in a fight—especially now that I regularly trained with Cole Hawkins, a special forces veteran and martial arts expert Greg had brought on to train all of his deputies. The local news had done a special feature on Cole’s training sessions with us. Russell would have heard about it. He had to know he didn’t stand a chance against me in a fight these days.
He was probably just trying to scare me.
I hated that he still could.
I keptmy guard up all day, knowing that if Russell really did want revenge, he’d probably try to get it by cutting my brake lines or something equally cowardly. Something hands off that he could do without getting caught. That or he’d offer to trade jobs with someone younger and fitter, maybe get me called out to a situation that was really a trap.
I was deep in thought when Greg stopped by my desk.
“Earth to Jackson,” he said in a voice that showed amusement instead of annoyance.
“Sorry,” I said, looking up from the paperwork I hadn’t even really been seeing. “What’s up?”
