Defender for Hire. Shirlee McCoy

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      TWO

      Go. Don’t look back...

      The words echoed through Tessa’s mind as she ran up the steep hill that overlooked her house. Sweat slipped down her neck and pooled in the hollow of her throat, her breath heaving as she crested the rise and headed down the path that led to the Spokane River. Her dog, Bentley, panted along beside her, his muscular body relaxed, his one good ear upright. At nearly a hundred pounds, the huge mutt was large enough to discourage unwanted attention. He was also smart and alert enough to warn her of danger.

      She’d chosen him for that and for his sweet, goofy ugliness. Long black fur over a homely face, one blue eye and one brown, he’d been abused by a previous owner but had still had the exuberance of a puppy when she’d found him at a shelter two years ago.

      And now it was the five-year anniversary of Daniel’s and Andrew’s murders.

      Don’t look back.

      But how could she not when everything she loved was in the past?

      She picked up her pace, running until her muscles cramped and her body ached. Finally, she couldn’t run another step and she pressed her elbows to her knees, trying to catch her breath.

      Darkness had fallen, purple-black and thick. No moon. No streetlights. Just the Spokane River lapping softly at its banks and the distant lights of the city hinting at civilization. Dear God, how she wished she could find a place she could stay for longer than a few months or a year.

      She straightened, a half-formed prayer nudging at the back of her mind, a cry from the heart that she didn’t want to acknowledge. God hadn’t answered her prayers five years ago, and she didn’t expect Him to now. She didn’t even want to bring her hopes and dreams before Him because she’d been devastated when He hadn’t answered before, despondent when everything she’d ever cared about had been yanked away.

      She couldn’t lay the responsibility for that in God’s hands, but she couldn’t take it out of His hands, either. He could have changed things, could have saved her husband and brother-in-law or taken her with them.

      She still didn’t understand why He hadn’t.

      “Come on, Bentley. Let’s go home,” she said, hoping that her voice would chase away the melancholy mood. Every year, she got the rose. Every year she felt this way.

      This year had been different, though.

      This year, she’d gotten the spider.

      Despite what she’d told Seth, she didn’t think it had been sent by mistake. Someone knew that her brother-in-law had kept a pet tarantula when they were on mission to Kenya. Someone had wanted to remind her of that.

      As if she needed any reminders.

      Her legs trembled as she jogged back up the hill and into the deep woods that separated her from home. Sweat cooled on her cheeks and she shivered. Early November, and the temperature was already in the thirties. This would be her first winter in eastern Washington. If she stayed.

      Five years. Five towns.

      Soon, it would be six, then seven and eight.

      How many before she could finally stop running?

      Bentley growled low in his throat, tugging furiously against the leash. It almost slipped from Tessa’s grip, and she tightened her hold.

      “What is it, Bentley?”

      The dog growled again, his muscles taut, his body angled to the left. The night was silent and heavy, the woods and path still, but something whispered through the darkness, a quiet breath of movement that rustled the thick carpet of dry leaves.

      “Hello?” Tessa called, her heart slamming against her ribs, her body numb with terror. She’d never felt as if she were in danger before—the roses had always seemed like a reminder of what would happen if she ever told the world the truth, which of course, she wouldn’t. She had Daniel’s legacy to protect. The work they’d done together, the children and villagers that they’d helped. She wouldn’t risk those things.

      Bentley let out a sharp warning, and she knew she’d better heed it. She pivoted away from the deep shadows, racing down the path toward home, Bentley lunging against her hold, snarling as he tried to get at whatever was coming up behind them.

      Branches snapped, leaves crackled, feet pounded. Hers? Someone else’s?

      Pop!

      Something whizzed through the darkness and Bentley yelped, stumbling. Tessa turned and saw something coming toward them. Black and broad against the navy sky, swooping in. She screamed, dropping the leash as Bentley snarled again and tried to run.

      Another high pitched yelp, and then silence except for Tessa’s ragged breaths and the thud of her pulse in her ears. Something slammed into her back and she fell hard, her hands and knees skidding across leaves and dirt, her mind sliding back five years. A tiny hut on the outskirts of a Kenyan village. Screams and terror and Daniel whispering for her to run.

      She tried to shut it out, shut it off, force her mind and her body back to the present moment and the fight, but hands were around her throat, lips pressing close to her ear.

      “I haven’t forgotten. Have you?”

      How could I? She wanted to ask, but she had no air, no thoughts. Blackness edged in, and she bucked against her captor, trying to use her weight to throw him off.

      She had no strength.

      Bentley snarled, the sound echoing in Tessa’s ears.

      Run! she wanted to shout. Go home!

      Her attacker’s hands tightened, then released. Gone. As if he had never been there at all.

      Tessa wasn’t sure if she was in the past or the present. In Africa or Pine Bluff. Didn’t know if she was hurt or okay. Silence settled as thick as the darkness that pressed СКАЧАТЬ