Betrayed Birthright. Liz Shoaf

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      “Any problems with the in-laws?”

      “No. They’re nice people, but I’m sad to say we kind of drifted apart after John’s death.”

      “Ma’am—”

      “Please, call me Abby.”

      “Abby. Is there anyone you can call to come stay with you for what’s left of the night?”

      She shook her head. “There are people at the church I attend who would be more than willing to come, but I’ll never be able to go back to sleep, and I have Bates. He’ll alert me if anyone comes back.” She pointed at her Glock where he’d laid it on a side table. “I know how to use that, and I won’t hesitate if someone comes after me.”

      The right side of his mouth kicked up in a slight grin.

      “I don’t doubt that at all.”

      Heat warmed her face. “When I was younger, my grandmother taught me to shoot. She was of the opinion that any self-respecting Southern lady should know how to handle a gun. I practice every once in a while to keep my aim good.”

      “I’m sure that’s true, but I can’t leave you alone until the broken windowpane is fixed and the house is secure.”

      He was going to stay here? Abby needed time to assimilate everything that had happened and calm down. She needed some time to herself.

      “That’s not necessary, I’ll be fine.”

      “I’ll wait outside in the squad car until the hardware store opens. I’ll make sure someone comes out first thing to fix the glass.”

      Abby felt bad, thinking of him sitting outside alone in his car, but not enough to ask him to stay inside with her until the sun came up.

      She accompanied him to the front door and turned the dead bolt after he left. Rushing to the living room window, which fronted the house, she watched as he conferred with his deputy, who’d been waiting by his car. After a few minutes, the deputy drove away and the sheriff settled inside his car, hunkered down for what was left of the night.

      The house quieted and loneliness shrouded her. After a few minutes, she turned toward the kitchen. A strong cup of coffee would lift her spirits.

      Crossing the threshold of the warm, homey room, she glanced out the window over the kitchen sink, stared at the cruiser and thought about Sheriff Galloway staying there to protect her. She got a warm, fuzzy feeling until she glanced up and to the left, and spotted something that shouldn’t be there. Her smile disappeared and fear sank its vicious teeth into her belly, worked its way to her throat—almost strangling her with its intensity.

      * * *

      Even with the town’s limited resources, Noah refused to leave Ms. Mayfield with no protection. He’d handle it off the clock. He lowered the car window and called Peggy Sue. After checking that everything was safe on the home front and confirming his dispatcher could stay the rest of the night with Dylan, Noah stiffened when he spotted Ms. Mayfield running out the front door, waving both hands in his direction.

      He left the car door open as he burst out of the vehicle, his Smith & Wesson M&P9 9 mm pistol in hand. The gun felt comfortable, an extension of his arm. He met her at the end of the sidewalk.

      “What’s wrong?”

      The blood had drained from her face, but she took a deep breath and composed herself. He was impressed. She had a lot of courage packed into her small frame.

      “There’s something inside that shouldn’t be there.”

      Before addressing her concern, he followed procedure. “Are you sure no one is in the house?”

      She began to speak, but stopped, her expression uncertain.

      Noah glanced at the dog. He was glued to Abby’s side. “Let me clear the house and then you can show me what you found.”

      She gave a brisk nod.

      It didn’t take long to check the house and Noah went back outside. “Let’s go in.”

      She followed him into the kitchen, took a deep breath and pointed at a cabinet built into the wall above the counter. “That’s a picture of my mom and dad, but I’ve never seen it before.”

      Noah grabbed a paper towel, opened the glass-fronted cabinet door and removed the picture, placing it on the kitchen island in the center of the room. He studied the photograph. Her parents were standing on a beach with nothing but ocean behind them, no identifying landmarks to be found. He focused on the couple. Abby’s father was a handsome man, her mother pretty and petite, same as her daughter. A smiling child was held in the father’s arms. All wore big smiles. Life looked perfect.

      “Are you sure you’ve never seen this before?”

      She rubbed her arms. “I’m positive. I’ve never seen the photograph or the frame. I’ve seen plenty of pictures of my parents, but none of them were taken on a beach.”

      The phone on the wall awoke with a high shrill and Abby jumped. Noah held his hand up when she took a step forward. “Let me answer it.”

      She nodded.

      “Sheriff Galloway.”

      A moment of silence filled the phone line before a strong voice almost shattered his eardrum. “What’s a sheriff doing at my granddaughter’s house at five thirty in the morning?” The woman didn’t give him a chance to answer. “I woke up a little while ago and felt the urge to start praying. You listen, and you listen good. I want to speak to Abby this minute.”

      If the situation hadn’t been so serious, Noah would have grinned at the older woman’s audacity. Abby crossed the room and Noah was glad to see her eyes shining with laughter instead of concern.

      “Sorry about that. It’s my grandmother. I heard her clear across the room.”

      Noah handed Abby the phone and she started talking. “Grammy? No, ma’am, everything is fine. There’s been a break-in, but Sheriff Galloway is here. I’ll explain everything in the morning...Yes, Baby Bates did his job well and I have my pistol. I keep it on the nightstand right beside the bed.” She sighed. “Yes, I do believe it’s connected to what happened in North Carolina. I’ll call you tomorrow after we know more, but, Grammy, please be careful.”

      Noah’s ears pricked when Abby turned away from him and lowered her voice. “Grammy! That’s not important. Fine, yes, he’s good-looking. Now, go back to bed and stop worrying. Everything is fine.”

      Noah cleared his throat, buried his grin and busied himself by looking at the photo again as she hung up the phone. She swung around and her face had turned that sweet shade of pink he was coming to adore.

      “That was my grandmother.”

      They both knew he was already aware of that and the pink turned a shade darker.

      Noah briefly wondered what it would be like to have a grandparent who loved you enough to call at five thirty in the morning СКАЧАТЬ