Page 100 of Protected from Malice
Location confirmed, I sprint around the back of the house and over to the patio doors. As Tyler promised, they’re unlocked, and I quickly slide them open to duck inside.
Now that I’m indoors, I can hear the woman’s voice more clearly.
I creep through the dining room and into the kitchen, moving on silent feet and listening.
“I worked with him for two years!” she says, her voice rising in agitation. “Two years! Two years of trying to convince Christhat I was the one for him. Two years of bringing his favorite cookies to work every Monday. Two years of lunches at the diner down the street. Two years of trying to show him I could be a good girlfriend. It should have worked! He should be mine!”
“I’m sorry,” Eden replies quietly.
Relief sweeps through me so quickly, so powerfully, I’m breathless with it.
She’s alive. Talking. Hopefully not seriously hurt.
Sliding my weapon from its holster, I hold it at low ready. From the kitchen, it’s just a short distance down the hallway to the living room. No more than fifteen feet at most.
I want to rush in there, but I know I can’t. Though my instincts tell me to, logic and decades of training urge caution. I need to get a clear view of them. Find out what kind of weapon is involved. Come up with a more solid plan thanget the fuck in there and do whatever it takes.
The woman continues ranting, “Two years! But I really thought I had a chance. Until a few months ago when he started talking about this perfect woman he’d seen online. He couldn’t stop talking about you. Going on and on about how amazing you were. How you’d eventually fall in love with him and the two of you would live happily ever after. I couldn’t believe it! My fuckingneighbor! How ironic is that?”
“I didn’t know,” Eden says. Her voice is shaking. But I can tell she’s trying to hide it.
“Of course you didn’t! But I did! And I tried to tell Chris it was pointless. That you had no clue who he was. But no! He wouldn’t listen to me. Instead, he thought it would be a good idea to follow you.We might run into each other, he said.I could buy her a drink. Or maybe she’ll have a flat tire and I can help her. It’ll be like I’m her hero.”
“Gayla,” Eden starts, “this isn’t a good idea. You know it isn’t. You can leave now. I won’t even call the police. We can just pretend it never happened.”
“Pretend it neverhappened?” the woman—Gayla—shouts. “The man I love is in jail! Because of you! When I went to jail to visit him, he wouldn’t even talk to me! It’s not right!”
I’m nearly at the living room doorway now.
Almost there.
My fingers tighten around the handle of my gun.
I force my heart rate and breath to slow.
I envision the living room in my mind—the couch on the west wall and two armchairs making a U out of it. The TV on the wall across from it with twin bookshelves on either side. The coat closet by the front door with the small catch-all table beside it.
Depending on their position, I might be able to take Gayla down before she sees me. If she’s facing away…
“I got so fed up with his obsession, I thought I’d put an end to it myself,” Gayla continues. “It was a great idea, too. I took Chris’s car—I told him mine was in the shop—and I tried to run you off the road. I was going to kill you once you crashed. Drag your body into the woods. And then… no more Eden for Chris to obsess over.”
“You usedhistruck?” Eden asks, sounding confused. “But… now he’s being blamed for it. How does that help Chris?”
“Shut up!” There’s a soft thud, then a gasp of pain.
Fuck!
I can’t wait.
I need to get in there.Now.
Peering around the doorjamb, I allow myself a moment to assess.
Gayla is standing in front of the couch, with her back to me. She’s holding a gun in her right hand. It’s not pointed directly at Eden, but close enough to make me extremely nervous.
And then, just past her, Eden.
My Eden.Bleeding.
