Winter isn’t done with us yet

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn everyday musings8 Comments


Looks like Old Man Winter isn’t ready to leave Pennsylvania.

Today we received some really messy snow that canceled events and meetings. This weekend we are supposed to get even more. I am a homebody, which I’ve mentioned before, but this winter is getting to be a bit long. It hasn’t really been the snow that has been the issue this winter, it’s been the cold and ice and just flat out messy road conditions.

We had arctic temperatures for about two months, which didn’t let the snow from late December melt. We’ve been able to see the ugly yellow-green grass for a couple of weeks now but today the snow has covered it again. It was mainly ice covering it before.

Weather forecasters originally said it would be melted by this evening because the ground has been so cold. Then around 1:30, they announced they were wrong and we were going to get four or five more inches before the day was over. Tomorrow we are supposed to have partly sunny weather and higher temps so, this snowfall should be gone by tomorrow night. Maybe. Hopefully. Who knows at this point.

But then comes Saturday. We are expected to get five to ten inches (or maybe more I heard this afternoon). I’m going to add a disclaimer, though, because the last time we were told we might get that much snow we got about two, maybe three inches. In other words, I’m not freaking out about Saturday just yet.

Here we are, waiting for spring, and Pennsylvania is being her usual, annoying self, and bringing us winter. The geese and the rest of the birds are very confused by it all. I could hear the birds chirping away, probably telling each other what we humans are telling ourselves, “It’s going to be fine. A couple more storms and winter will finally be behind us.”

The funny thing is, I saw my first robin this morning – hopping around on my neighbor’s driveway, in the snow. Poor thing. I swear, though, the robins around here are super fat. They look like they’ve eaten a couple other robins.

I don’t actually mind another week of winter in some ways. That gives me another week of curling up under a warm blanket with a cup of herbal tea (with tons of local honey, of course) and a book or a good show.

So how about you? How is the weather where you are? Hopefully, it is warm and sunny or going to be warm and sunny soon!

Sunday Bookends: A total bizarre car accident, worship music, and what’s next for my fiction

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn everyday musings, Sunday Bookends15 Comments

What’s Been Occurring

I mentioned last week that we hadn’t left the house in a couple of weeks due to weather and a cold (which was very short, thankfully). This week I finally left the house on Friday and then wondered if I should have stayed home.

I went down into our little town to grab a couple subs for my kids. On the way back, I pulled into a parking space in front of the local newspaper, which my neighbor’s own. I didn’t even put the car in park, though, because I remembered I needed cash for the product I was hoping to pick up. I put the car in reverse and swung to the building next door, parking in front of the bank.

After pulling some money out of the ATM, I got back in my van. I broke a piece of chocolate I’d picked up at the store off and when I looked to my left, out of the driver’s side window, a car pulled into the space next to me and instead of stopping it kept driving into the curb and railing in front of the bank. I said to Little Miss who was in the backseat. “Uh-oh, I think that woman hit the accelerator instead of the break.” I thought her forward motion would cause her car to get caught on the curb, she’d get a clue, pull the car back a bit and then park it before getting it out and inspecting the clear damage to the front end of her car.

Instead, she yanked the car into reverse, never took her foot off the accelerator (or the accelerator stuck, I’m truly not sure which), and the car shot backward into the small side street behind us, somehow swung out and around the back end of my van and down into another small street. In the intersection of that side street, she did two doughnuts (for those who don’t know, this is when a car spins around twice while still on four wheels, not flips over, thankfully), kicking out moves I’ve only seen on TV.

I thought she was going to come flying back at me and I told Little Miss, in an alarmed voice. “I’ve got to get this van out of her way!” Before I could, though, her car shot around the other direction and she slide full force into the front of the newspaper office, coming to rest partially against the building and partially in the parking space my van had occupied five minutes before.

Little Miss told me later she’d heard glass shatter and she thought the woman had broken her front windshield and was dead. I don’t even remember hearing the glass. I think I was still in shock that she hadn’t hit our van. Someone walked over from the restaurant across the street and another person stepped out of the newspaper office and I stayed glued to my seat, unsure I really wanted to go see if she was okay, afraid she wasn’t. By the time I did walk across the street — since I first turned around and saw a woman I know at the bank standing outside the building with her hand on her heart, looking very shaken — the elderly woman was out of her car, standing and didn’t seem to have a clue what had happened. A member of the fire department arrived quickly, not sure where he came from, and asked her if she was hurt. She said, no. He asked her if she was on any medication. She didn’t know. He finally suggested she sit in the newspaper office while they waited for an ambulance. Inside he asked her if she remembered what had happened. She didn’t. She just sort of smiled at us all like she was trying to figure out what the fuss was about. She, of course, was evaluated by the ambulance personnel when they got there. I’m not sure if she was taken to the hospital or not.

The woman from the bank checked on me later that evening and told me “God was watching out for you today!” She probably had a better view of it all from her office and may have even seen how close the woman’s car came to my van.

God was watching out for me because if I had parked at the newspaper and walked to the bank (as my Mom suggested I could have done), that woman probably would have killed me while I tried to walk back to my van. She also would have hit my van for sure, not swirling around it, but slamming directly into the front of it, and possibly injuring Little Miss.

I told my mom that this was one time I was glad I was lazy and hadn’t walked the hundred or so feet to the bank. “See,” I told her. “Being lazy paid off this time.”

In reality, it wasn’t about being lazy. I simply hadn’t put the van in park yet when I remembered I needed, or at least wanted, the cash.

Little Miss was pretty shook up after that and wanted to go home, but the fire chief told me to stay so I could give a witness statement to the state trooper. Little Miss wasn’t crying but had wide eyes and kept saying, “I just want to go home now.” I finally told the chief I was going to take my daughter up to my house and come back, since the local state police barracks is about fifteen minutes away and the trooper wasn’t there yet. I did return and give a statement, which was a very boring one since it had all happened so fast.

After all this, by the way, the newspaper office didn’t have what I was looking for so I should have just gone home. Sigh.

Since was the first time I’d gone out in a couple of weeks, it also made me a bit hesitant about Tuesday when I have to drive back down the street to get some blood drawn for a thyroid panel. I hope that trip is a lot less exciting.

What I’ve Been Reading

This past week I continued on Moriarty by Anthony Horowitz and Every Star in the Sky by Sara Davison. I expect to finish Every Star in the Sky before the end of the week.

I will probably start Miss Julia Rocks the Cradle by Ann B. Ross after I finish Moriarty.

Little Miss and I are reading Emily’s Run Away Imagination by Beverly Cleary again.

The Boy is still reading Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson.

What I’ve Been Watching

The husband and I have continued to watch Brokenwood Mysteries and I really enjoy the show. I’ve fallen in love with the main character, but not in the way you think. He’s just a likeable guy and I’m interested to know more about him as the show goes on.

I feel like I need a break from murder and mayhem this week, however, and am going to look into a subscription of PBS Masterpiece so I can watch the new All Creatures Great And Small to take my mind off the craziness of the world.

What I’m Listening To

I’ve been listening to songs on YouTube that were used on Brokenwood episodes most of the week. Most of the artists are from New Zealand, I believe. My husband says they have a large country music scene there that he was unaware of until this show.

Some of the songs are going into my playlist for a book I am working on called Lily.

I also was introduced to Jordan St. Cyr’s songs Fires

And Weary traveler:

Elevation Worship has a new album which I hope to listen to more this week. So far, I like the song, Lion.

And also, What I See

And.. well, I think I might love the entire album. My husband says it is their best yet and I think he is right.

What I’m Writing

I finished sharing Beauty From Ashes on the blog this week (called A New Chapter for the blog) and am now moving on to working on a couple of other stories I’ve been wanting to tackle, before I start book four in the series, which I so far have named Mercy’s Shore. I don’t know if I’ll be sharing that one on the blog or not, yet. We will see.

Last week on the blog I shared a post about what we are reading for homeschooling as well as one about looking back at February and forward to March.

Your Turn

So, what are you reading, what have you been doing, listening to or watching? Let me know in the comments.

Special Fiction Saturday: A New Chapter Chapter 28 and 29

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn everyday musings3 Comments

Chapter 28

Stan had been listening to his breathing and staring at the patterns on the ceiling of the Blue Room of the Blueberry Inn for two hours now. It was a lovely ceiling, with shapes of leaves impressed into the paint by an obviously expert mason. The inn, overall, was actually lovely. It smelled of fruit, it was quiet, the bed was soft, the owner was sweet and attentive (he’d certainly never run out of towels or cups of piping-hot, blueberry tea), the atmosphere was cozy, and the breakfast that came free with the room fee was better than any at the local diners.

Despite the comfort of this home away from home, though, his chest was aching. As a matter of fact, his arms were too.

They ached to hold Ginny close against him, feel her breathing slow and soft. He missed how he used to know everything was going to be okay as long as she was there.

He hadn’t gone to work yesterday and had answered two calls the entire day. One was from Matt, updating him on Bernie’s condition. The young man was in pretty bad shape, but doctors were optimistic and expected him to pull through and go home in a couple of weeks. He’d face some charges for his involvement in the heroin delivery, but nowhere near what he could have expected, and Matt was hopeful he’d get a lighter sentence because of the evidence he’d turned over. That sentence would hopefully be outside of prison so he could still be with his family and help support them.

The next call had come from Olivia. He had assured her he was fine, just tired and stressed. He told her he’d explain more about why he was staying at the inn later.

“She loves you, Dad.”

He didn’t want to talk about Ginny’s supposed love for him. “I need to go.”

“Clint and Tiffany will be here in a few days. I hope you’re going to come home before then. I really don’t want to have to tell Clint our parents are splitting after 32 years of marriage.”

He’d assured her that he’d be home when Clint and Tiffany came home, hung up and had flopped back on the bed, where he’d been laying ever since.

Splitting after 32 years of marriage.

Was that what was really happening?

A strange buzz shot up from the tips of fingers to his throat and he closed his eyes. His heart picked up its rhythm and his chest tightened. He dragged a hand across his forehead, now beaded with sweat.

Oh, this was just great. He was having a heart attack at the Blueberry Inn. He clenched his eyes closed tighter against the pain in his chest. At least he’d die somewhere pretty he supposed.

His breathing quickened and he sat up on the edge of the bed, tightening a fist against his chest as he opened his eyes. “You’re fine, Stan. You’re not having a heart attack. You’re just —”

He stared out the window at the empty yard outside, a cherry tree naked of its blossoms in the center of it next to a black metal bench.

 He remembered Ginny talking about Liz one day, about how she was suffering from panic attacks after giving birth.

No way.

He was not having a panic attack. Panic attacks were for women. He winced at how that thought had sounded. It wasn’t that women were weaker, they just had more hormones and hormone shifts from pregnancy and menopause and cycles or whatever they were called. He stood and walked to the window, drawing a breath in slowly and holding it for a few seconds. Isn’t that what Ginny had said she’d told Liz to do? Something about a deep breath, holding it for six seconds and letting it out for seven or eight or something.

He couldn’t remember and if he wasn’t careful, he was going to end up hyperventilating. His gaze drifted from the cherry tree to the street beyond. About half a mile down the road Ginny was dressing for the library fundraiser. She was slipping into that black dress he loved, putting on that necklace he’d bought her for birthday five years ago, making sure every hair was in place, and her lipstick was on straight.

How he longed to touch that hair, kiss that neck, breathe in deep the smell of vanilla body spray he knew she’d use before she walked out the door. He wanted to hold her hand as they walked to the car, sit next to her at the fundraiser and feel a swell of pride that his wife had created all of this to raise money for the library and provide free books and outreach programs to the community, especially the youth.

He rubbed his chest with the heel of his hand and noticed the ache was subsiding. His breathing was slowing down too. Thinking of Ginny in that dress must have been enough to distract him from the panic surging through him and if that was working then that meant he wasn’t having a heart attack. Mental images of beautiful women in low cut dresses might cause a heart attack, but not cure one.

A bird jumped from the back of the bench to the ground, searching for food. It pecked at the ground as Stan watched it, but not really seeing it. Images played across his mind. Nights of passion, clutching hands, hard kisses then tender embraces, long talks about their favorite movies, and slow dancing to Frank Sinatra in the living room.

He remembered Ginny cradling babies, swaying late at night to soothe them, kissing booboos, wiping away tears, late nights talking with their daughters about boys and one early morning advising their son on the best way to propose to his girlfriend.

He turned back to the bed and laid on it again, on his back, hands folded across his stomach. He tried to think if he could really imagine Ginny cheating on him, beyond a quick kiss from Keith that was. If he was going to be honest with himself, something he hadn’t done in a long time, he couldn’t imagine it.

Still, any woman who felt neglected could forget who they were and stray from their marriage vows, couldn’t they? He certainly had made Ginny feel neglected. He was sure of that. All work all the time had not only made Stan a dull boy but a very cranky and unlovable one.

He closed his eyes, felt a wave of exhaustion, and realized he had no idea how to even get back to who he’d been before he became so obsessed with being the best in his career. He had no desire to be that person any longer but how could he break out of the mold he’d created for himself these past few years?

“You just take a sledgehammer to it and commit to being better, Stan.” He mumbled the words as sleep overtook him. “You also commit to talking to your wife more and yourself less.”

***

She’d tried not to let what-if’s consume her mind, but Ginny couldn’t help it. The way Clint had told her that he and Tiffany were moving had lingered in her thoughts for months now. That one comment about “how this move is needed right now” is what had really stuck with her.

Now, with Clint on the other end of the phone, checking in and letting her know everything was coming together for the move, she couldn’t hold back her concern any longer. No, she didn’t need any more to worry and stress about, between the situation with Stan and Olivia coming home, but it would be one less thing she had to sit and wonder about.

“Clint, are you sure things are okay because when you called to tell me you were moving closer, you said you and Tiffany could really use this change.” She sighed, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger as she sat on the stool by her dresser. “Just something about your tone made me think there was something you weren’t telling me.”

Clint laughed. “Mom, things are really fine. You worry too much. You also have your mom goggles on. Things have been tough for me and Tiff because having four kids and one on the way is a challenge, but our marriage is good. We could use a couple nights out together, some alone time, though. Maybe you and Dad could help with that?”

Ginny let out a breath. “Of course, we could. Anytime. We would love to—”

Had he just said, “one on the way”?

“Wait, four and one on the way?”

Clint laughed. “Yeah. One more on the way. I was going to wait and tell you and Dad when we got there but you’ve sounded so worried, I just needed to let you know what’s going on and been on our minds.” He laughed again. “And don’t ask for any more grandchildren from us. This is the last one. We’re making sure of that.”

She hung up a few minutes later, promising not to pass the news on to anyone else until they arrived and could share the news themselves.

She began to wipe the make-up she’d worn to the fundraiser off, suddenly exhausted, despite the good news from Clint. It had been a very long, very emotionally draining week. Staring at herself in the mirror it unnerved her at how removing the makeup slowly revealed more of the wrinkles she developed in the last few months. She’d probably developed most of them in the last few days, along with several additional grey hairs.

At least the fundraiser was over. Now she needed to shift gears to finishing plans for Clint and Tiffany’s welcome home party. They’d be here in only a couple of days. She couldn’t wait to hug her grandchildren close, forget about her crumbling marriage for even a few hours as she watched them giggle and play with each other. She hoped Clint and Tiffany wouldn’t mind if she filled them up with chocolate chip cookies and cake for the first couple of days, especially because she knew how much they loved her chocolate chip cookies and lemon sponge cake.

Filling their kids up with sweets, might distract them from the fact she and Stan were currently living in separate locations. The heartbreak struck at her again at that thought and she took a deep breath to keep from crying. She’d cry after she got undressed, slipped into her nightgown and cuddled under the covers with a Jan Karon book and a carton of chocolate ice cream.

The diet could wait until she pulled herself together a little more.

She reached behind her to neck to unzip her dress and looked at herself in the mirror. There was no way she could reach it that way. She tried behind her back and slid her hands up, but that wasn’t working either. She’d had Olivia zip it up for her before she left, a job that used to be Stan’s. Olivia was out with some friends at the movies, though, and probably wouldn’t be home until late. Ginny had a feeling Brent might be attending as well and wondered if this would mean a reunion between the two. They’d made a nice couple in high school, before Olivia had decided Spencer and all that was associated with it was too good for her.

Ginny winced as a pain shot through her wrist. There had to be a way to get this dress off without help. What did single women living alone do to get out of similar dresses for goodness sake?

“Need help?”

She screamed at the voice, clutching her hand to her throat.

Stan’s reflection in the mirror caused her to scream again and she pivoted to face him. “Stan! Good grief! I thought I was alone.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Sorry about that.” He took a couple of steps toward her as she tried to catch her breath and the smile faded. “And for all the times you really were alone.”

The intensity in his gaze left her unable to look away. He was a foot away from her now, studying her as if trying to read her reaction to his words. She had no idea what message her expression was sending because she wasn’t even sure what expression she was making. Her mouth was partly open, her face still warm from the shock of him walking in when she thought she’d been alone, her eyes wide and her eyebrows raised. She imagined she might look something like Edvard Munch’s The Scream painting at the moment.

He lifted his hand, held it in mid-air for a few seconds then pushed several strands of her hair behind her ear, cupping her cheek instead of lowering his hand. “How I could have ever chosen my job over you, I’ll never understand.” He stepped even closer, looked down at her, smoothing the palm of his thumb across her jawline. “Can you ever forgive me?”

This time she wanted the kiss that followed. She wanted the arm that slid around her back, pulling her close. She wanted the fingers that slipped behind her head, up into her hair, clutching as his mouth softly touched her upper lip. She wanted this kiss more than she’d wanted almost anything, other than the first kiss he’d ever given her or to hold each of her children while carrying them inside her for nine months.

He tilted his head, caught her mouth more firmly with his and deepened the kiss, drawing her mind completely from her body until all that filled her thoughts were the feel of his skin against hers as he slowly unzipped the dress and slid his hands inside, sliding them down her back.

When he pulled his mouth from hers, he found her neck, trailing kisses along it and then back to her mouth again.

She moaned softly as the kiss continued and the dress slipped off her shoulders and to the floor. Both of his hands had moved into her hair now and her fingers clutched at the front of his jacket as he stepped back, pulling her with him toward the bed.

This wasn’t how she had expected her night to end. Not in the least. But as she felt the bed underneath her, her husband’s body next to her warm and solid as she had wanted it to be for so long, she decided this was a much better ending that huddling under the covers alone with a pint of chocolate ice cream.

Chapter 29

“Olivia, no. I don’t want to wake, Mom. It sounds like she’s had a crazy week with the fundraiser and, well, everything else.”

Ginny listened but didn’t open her eyes. Was that Maddie’s voice? Her oldest daughter was home, and no one had told her she was coming? Stan shifted slightly next to her, but he was either asleep or lying in wait like her to see what their children said about them. She kept her arms around his middle, pressed her cheek against his bare back and listened to the commotion in the hallway outside their bedroom door.

Olivia sighed. “I shouldn’t have even told you about everything else, but I didn’t know how to explain about Dad not being here.”

Oh great. How much did she share?

“I just wonder what made them have that fight.” Maddie definitely sounded concerned and as the oldest daughter Ginny was sure she wanted to fix it. It didn’t sound like she knew the whole story, though, and Ginny was glad for that. She didn’t really need the whole family knowing about the kiss with Keith. She was embarrassed and ashamed enough.

“I’m sure it was just — I don’t know, old people stuff.”

Ginny sighed softly. Typical Olivia comment.

“Liv, that’s not nice.” Ginny’s eyes flew open. Clint? What was he doing here already? He and Tiffany weren’t supposed to be here for two more days, and he hadn’t told her when they talked last night that he was already in town. “They’re not just old people. They’re our parents.”

The clanking of dishes and a bump against the door preceded Olivia’s next words. “Well, whatever. Let’s take Mom some breakfast. She’ll be so excited that you are both here already.”

Ginny clenched her eyes closed. It was too late to dart from the bed and throw on some clothes, too late to have Stan do the same. Luckily, they were both covered with the comforter and hopefully enough to keep their children from being too shocked.

“Oh!” Olivia’s whispered declaration made Ginny bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. “Oh. Ew. Ew. And another ew.”

Maddie’s giggles were muffled. “I guess they made up.”

“Do you think they’re —” Olivia made a gagging noise that made Ginny want to laugh even more. “I mean do you think that they —”

Ginny couldn’t see it, but she could practically hear Clint roll his eyes. “They’re old, not dead, Liv. Yeah, they probably are, and they probably did.”

Now Maddie, also whispering, though Ginny wondered if they knew how loud they were whispering. “Liv, I know it’s your parents and you don’t like to think about it —”

“Our parents. Our parents, Mad and they are like 60. Ew.”

“They’re like 56, not 60,” Clint said in a scolding older brother tone. “That’s not that old. I mean, we’ll be that old someday.”

The voices faded and the door clicked closed. “Yeah, some of us faster than others.” Olivia’s voice teased from the hallway. “I was going to go down and eat breakfast but I think I’ve lost my appetite now.”

“Well,” Maddie said, her voice trembling with laughter. “At least we know things are good between them.”

“Oh, Mad! Stop!” Olivia’s tone of disgust did Ginny in and a giggle tumbled out of her.

Stan’s shoulders shook and she knew he’d been listening to. He rolled over to his side, smiling and cupped his hand against her cheek like he had the night before.

“Good morning, old lady.”

“Good morning, old man.”

“This old man could use a shower and some breakfast but he’d also like to lay here a little longer with you, if that’s okay.”

Ginny tipped her head slightly as he kissed her forehead. “It is, old man. It definitely is.”

***

“Let me get my hands on that baby!” The squeal that followed Tiffany’s affectionate demand made her sound more like a high school student than a grown woman with four children. Liz obliged and handed her older sister Bella. Tiffany kissed Bella’s cheek pulled her back and held her in front of her for a few seconds before cradling against her.

“Oh, you are so sweet! Even sweeter than I imagine! I’m so happy I can finally hold you!”

Tiffany swayed a little in place, all her attention on Bella as Liz looked on with both amusement and tenderness. She’d imagined she might have children one day and her sister would rejoice with her. She actually hadn’t expected it to be so soon, though, and definitely had not planned for it to be something that happened without a husband, so the moment was tinged with a bittersweetness she’d rather not have tasted.

Tiffany looked up. “So, how is motherhood treating you?”

Liz chewed on her lower lip for a moment. “Okay. I just wish I was as good at it as you are.”

Tiffany snorted a laugh. “As good at it as me? Did you see my children today? One of them has two different shoes on. Another one is over behind that chair making a mess in his diaper and the oldest has eaten his weight in brownies today.” She sat down on the couch and crossed one leg over the other, shifting Bella to a sitting position against her. “I’ve been watching you the last couple of days, Liz. You’re good at this mother thing. Don’t worry about that. There isn’t some magical perfect way to be a mom. There’s no formula. You just do the best you can, and you are doing the best you can and that best is pretty great right now. You think I know everything about parenting? Even with four kids? Well, technically five.” She glanced at her belly.

Liz smirked. “Or six if you count, Clint, right?”

Tiffany laughed and held a finger to her lips. “Shh. That was just between you and me.” She tipped her head toward the cushion next to her. “Sit down and tell me about the college classes you started. How are they going?”

Liz sat and leaned back against the arm of the couch, twisting her body toward Tiffany. “They’re going. I’m still not sure what degree I’ll end up with, but right now I’m working toward a degree in social work and until then I’ve apparently become a children’s librarian.” She shrugged a shoulder, smiling. “It’s not such a bad job, but of course, I haven’t had my first story time yet, so I’ll get back to you on that.”

Shouts from outside the window drew her attention from her sister and daughter and she stood to look out it. In her parents’ side yard, Matt was standing with his legs apart and an arm cocked back with a football in his hand, ready to throw it down the field to Jason. Clint and a group of Clint’s friends swarmed around him, raising their arms, ready to tackle Matt or block the throw.

She smiled, letting her eyes linger on Matt’s attentive expression as his gaze flicked across the field while he decided where to throw the ball. The charges against him had been dropped after Gabe’s arrest. Once he’d completed his two-month suspension, Reggie and the council planned to reinstate him based on his previous good record. Liz was disappointed that he had lost his chance to become a state police trooper, but she seemed to be the only one. Matt told her he was content where he was, glad to be able to remain in Spencer with her and Bella.

“So, it’s official?” Liz looked over her shoulder at Tiffany’s question and saw her sister was standing behind her now, looking out the window as well.

“What’s official?”

Tiffany snorted a laugh. “You know what. That you’re together with little Matty.”

Liz raised an eyebrow but couldn’t help smiling. “Little Matty?

Tiffany laughed again. “Yeah, that’s what his sister and I always called him in school. Sooo, is it official?”

Liz looked back out the window, at Matt who’d tucked the ball under his arm and was now attempting to run down the field still dotted with spots of snow from the snowfall the night before.

“Yeah.” A smile pulled at her mouth as she pushed the curtain further back. “It’s official.”

Ginny set a tray of glasses full of lemonade on the coffee table. “And it’s about time too.”

Liz pursed her lips and shot Ginny a mock scowl, but wasn’t able to hold it long before a smile pulled her frown upward. “Shush, you.”

Stan stepped behind Ginny as she straightened and slid an arm around her waist.

“She’s just happy for you, Liz.” He pulled Ginny back against him and kissed her cheek. “She’s hoping that you and Matt will have as happy of a marriage as she and I have for all these years.”

Liz held up her hands. “Slow down, matchmakers. No one said anything about marriage.”

Ginny winked. “Not yet, no, but I’m sure if I use my teacher voice with little Matty he’ll get right on that.”

Liz laughed an easy laugh, a laugh that wasn’t forced or tight like it had once been. Ginny and Stan meant well. A future with Matt was what she wanted, but for now, she simply wanted to enjoy the beauty coming forth from the ashes of her past.

Fiction Friday: A New Chapter Chapter 27

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn everyday musings, fiction, Fiction Friday, Fiction ThursdayLeave a comment

I will be sharing the last chapters of this story tomorrow. This chapter has a bit too much cheese at the end so that may change before this book is final.

Chapter 27

She couldn’t get her hands to stop trembling.

Even now, standing at her apartment door, unlocking it, far away from the scene of the shooting. She’d called Ginny and Ginny had agreed with Matt. She was closing the library early anyhow because of all the police activity down the street. 

A conversation she’d had with Molly over a year ago resurfaced.

“I’m just friends with Matt. It’s not like that. He’s easy to talk to and I like hanging out with him, but — he’s Matt. I’ll always think of him as a brother more than a boyfriend. Maybe because he’s friends with Jason and I just remember him as that weird military obsessed guy from high school.”

Molly had tipped her head in a pitying way, more pity toward Matt than Liz. “He’s a nice guy, Liz.”

“Yeah, I know, but he’s also a cop. I don’t know if I can date a cop. I mean, what if I develop more feelings for him and then I’ll just worry about him out there on the streets . . .”

Molly had snickered. “On the streets of Spencer? Where what — he might get punched by a drunk guy down at Mooney’s or get kicked by a cow?”

Liz had turned from the list of coffee flavors behind the counter at the coffee shop they were at and tipped her head. “Molly, you really are naïve about what happens in this county, aren’t you?”

And Molly had been, but maybe she’d been a little naïve too. Sure, she knew there were issues with drugs and alcohol in this town, but someone being shot on the street? No, she hadn’t thought that would happen. Matt could have been killed. It was a thought that surfaced, but that she pushed back down again. If she thought about that too long, she’d trigger a panic attack and those had been better lately. She didn’t want them to come back again

She glanced at the sunlight streaming in through the windows in the living room as her phone rang and she shut the door behind her, locking it.

“Are you okay? Martha said there was a shooting on Main Street. Is that true? Do you know?”

She tossed her keys on the kitchen table. “I’m fine, Mom. Yes. Matt was there and he’s okay too. He told me to go back to my apartment so I’m there, with the door locked.” Sliding her shoes off she yawned. Since her mom and dad were watching Bella, maybe she could manage a nap.

“Where is Molly? Is she with you?”

“She’s at the store. We’ve talked and she’ll be home early tonight.”

They chatted a few seconds longer about Bella and the fact she was taking a nap so Marge would bring her to the apartment in the evening. Liz’s shoulders relaxed as she slid her finger over the end call button and dropped her phone into her purse, then hung the purse on the back of the kitchen chair. Her bed was definitely calling to her.

“Are you okay, Liz? Really?”

A scream ripped through her at the sound of the deep voice from behind her. She swung around to face the dark hallway. Gabe’s laughter boomed off the walls, sending a chill shivering through her. When he stepped forward, sunlight brightened one side of his face and the other remained in darkness. What the sun hit was bruised and swollen, dark purple mixing with light purple.

Liz took a step back toward the kitchen.  “What are you doing here?”

Gabe gestured outward with his arms, leaning against the wall, more of his face coming into the light. “Just thought I should see what the mother of my child is up to these days.” His leather jacket was open, revealing a white T-shirt, stained with red and brown. “What? Don’t you like visitors?”

Liz’s chest constricted as she bumped into one of the chairs pushed into the table. “Not those who aren’t invited, no.”

Gabe pushed himself off the wall, and walked into the living room, slumping into the chair next to the couch.

Liz could clearly see his black eye and a deep cut across his cheek now. He winced and lifted his foot, stretching out his leg, and propping it on the coffee table. “Don’t worry, drama queen. I’m not here to hurt you. I just got myself in some trouble. Needed a place to lay low for a bit.”

“How did you even get in here?”

He smirked. “You know, for having a boyfriend who’s a cop, your apartment isn’t very secure. I climbed in one of the bedroom windows. Must be Molly’s room with all those cow photos hanging all over.” He grimaced as he lifted the other leg and propped it next to the first. “That’s what McGee is, right? Your boyfriend?”

Liz kept moving backwards until she bumped into the kitchen counter. Two more steps to her left and she’d have her hand on the drawer with the knives.

“You need to leave, Gabe.”

“Oh, Liz. Liz. Calm down and have a seat. Let’s just chat a while. I already said I’m not going to hurt you.” He hugged his arm around his side and made a face. “I’m not in any shape to hurt anyone right now anyhow.”

Her fingertips touched the edge of the knife drawer. He wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were focused somewhere outside the window, his eyelids heavy. She wasn’t sure she cared, but she asked anyhow. “What happened to you?”

He scoffed. “Life happened to me, Lizzie dear.” He tipped his head back, closed his eyes. “It finally caught up to me. All the fun couldn’t last forever, right?”

She ran her finger along the edge of the drawer, ready to open it if he moved. He kept talking as her eyes drifted to her purse, now several feet away.

Gabe sighed. “I’m in trouble.” He coughed out a laugh, his eyes still closed. “When am I not in trouble, right? But, alas, I am in even bigger trouble than ever before.”

Her mind flitted between opening the drawer and lunging for the phone in her purse. “What’s going on?” She should probably keep him talking until she decided. “Who did this to you?

She took a step toward the purse at the same moment his eyes opened, and he tipped his head to look at her.

“Do you really care? Really, Lizzie?” He sneered. “You know you don’t.”

He was right. She just wanted him to leave. She knew she should care, though. She should see him the way God saw him – as a flawed human who deserved a second chance. That wasn’t how she saw him, though.

She saw him as a threat.

He tipped his head back again, but kept his eyes opened, focused on the ceiling. “I never thought I’d be where I am today. All I did was borrow some money to keep the business going. Then a little more for the pills to keep me going. Who knew my uncle would call in the loan by manipulating me into running his drug business?” He laughed again, the sound sending a mix of pity and anxiety skittering through Liz.

She stood frozen between the kitchen table and the counter, unsure which direction to go. Gabe’s lack of predictably always had been a problem.

“Are you on the pills now?”

He stood abruptly and turned toward her, but leaned forward quickly, hands on his knees, grimacing. He lifted his head without straightening. “You think I’d be in this much pain if I was?” He stood, his arm wrapped around his side, and moved toward the other side of the living room, near a display of photographs on the wall above the television. His eyes moved from photo to photo as she took two steps closer to the purse.

He glanced at her. “She looks like you. That’s a good thing.”

Liz drew in a breath slowly, glad Bella was with her grandparents.

He kept his eyes on the photo as he spoke. “I screwed up, Liz. I borrowed money from him, lost it gambling and fueling the pill addiction. When I couldn’t get it back to him, he told me I’d either help him with deliveries and production or he’d end me.” His smile was unnatural considering the topic he was discussing. “Fitting isn’t it? He did to me what I did to you. Manipulated me into getting what he wanted like I manipulated you.” He pushed a trembling hand through disheveled, dark brown hair, laughed sardonically. “What goes around comes around, right? Isn’t that in the Bible?

Liz folded her arms across her chest, keeping her gaze locked on him. “No, I don’t think it is.”

He turned to face her. “An eye for an eye, right? Same thing?”

She tilted her head to one side, her jaw tight. “Not exactly. No.”

He walked toward her slowly. “I’m not going to hurt you, Liz. I already told you that.” He stopped a couple of feet from her, hands at his side. “I came here because I can’t figure you out and I want to figure you out before I go to jail.

The muscles in her body tensed. Her gaze flitted to the purse again. Only a few more steps and she could have it, but could she get the phone out before he reached her? He took another stepped toward her and she had her answer. “What are you talking about?

He tipped his head back slightly looking at her through narrowed eyes. “Why didn’t you press charges against me?” He tipped his head back down and shrugged a shoulder, pulling the chair with her purse on it out and sitting in it. “I pretty much assaulted you that night in my apartment. We both know it.” He laid his hand on the table. “Are you still so afraid of mommy and daddy finding out about you that you never told anyone how that baby was really conceived?”

Liz folded her arms tighter across her chest. What was his game, really? Was he kidding right now? Did he feel guilt or pride over his actions? She couldn’t read him.

“You really need to leave, Gabe.”

“It was wrong, Liz.” He leaned forward on his knees, winced again, and touched a hand to his ribs. “What I did. You deserved better than that. You’re a good person. Better than me and almost anyone else and I stepped all over that.”

She pivoted quickly, ripped open the knife drawer and grabbed the first one she could reach. Swinging around she held it out in front of her. She knew him too well. He never apologized. There was another reason behind his words.

“Get out, Gabe.”

He raised his hands, still sitting, a smirk twitching one corner of his mouth upward. “What are you going to do, stab me?” He laughed, his hands still up. “It would serve me right at this point. You should just go ahead and get it over with.”

She gripped the knife handle tighter, stepping slowly around the table until she was in front of him. “Just leave, okay?”

“So, you can call Matty-boy to come arrest me?”

He laughed again, lowered his hands, and then tipped his head forward, closing his eyes. “Just do it.” He opened his eyes again as he lifted his head and looked at her. “Call McGee. Show’s over for me.” He reached behind him, reached into her purse and slid out the phone, laying it on the table. He pressed a finger on top of it and slid it across the table toward her. “Jail is the safest place for me right now, trust me.”

She kept the knife in front of her, glancing at the phone then back at him. He inclined his head toward the phone. “Take it. Call him.” He slid his finger over the screen, opening it. “Here, I’ll help you.” He looked at the phone and tipped his head, pushing his lower lip out. “Aw, look at that. McGee’s in your favorites. “How cute.” He tapped his finger on Matt’s name. “There, I dialed it for you. Tell him to come rescue you from your scary ex-boyfriend.”

Instinct told her not to reach for the phone. Gabe tapped the speaker button instead.

Matt’s voice came from the phone. “Liz? What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Gabe kept his eyes focused on hers, smiling as he leaned toward the phone. “Liz needs rescuing, McGee. At her apartment. Better drop your Bible and get on over here.” He leaned closer to the phone. “And feel free to bring the calvary.”

He slid his finger over the end button and leaned back in the chair. “Uncle Buck was running the overall operation. I agreed to take over the part in this area to keep him off my back about all the money I owed him. Bernie was just a scape goat. I tricked him into make deliveries. He needed the money for his family. When he caught on to what was going on he tried to break loose, and I tried to blackmail him. It didn’t work and he walked. The police already had him pegged as trouble, so it was easy to set him up.”

Why was he telling her all of this? She stepped back against the corner of the wall, pulling the knife closer to her. “You can tell the police this.”

“I will, but I wanted to tell you too.”

“Someone shot Bernie Denton.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “I didn’t know that. Is he going to be okay?”

Her knuckles whitened as she clutched the knife. “I don’t know. Matt was with him.”

Gabe tipped his head back and laughed. “Of course he was.” He looked at her again, the smile fading. “Ah, then Bernie will live. Having McGee around is like having your own personal Jesus, right?”

Liz ignored the snarky edge to the comment. “Were you using?”

He shook his head. “Never sampled the product. Alcohol and pills are my vice. You know that.” He kicked the chair next to him out and propped a leg on it. “So, you officially with McGee now?”

She had no idea why she was standing here. She could reach the door, but part of her worried what he was really up to, if he’d grab her when she tried to run, take the knife and turn the tables on her.

“If you’re asking if I am in love with Matt, then yes I am.” Sirens sounded in the distance. “I used to think I was in love with you, but I was in love with the idea of you. Sadly, you were never what or who I thought you were.”

He snorted a brief laugh. “I wasn’t who I thought I was either.” He tapped the top of the table with his hand. “Sounds like the calvary is almost here so listen Liz, good luck with your life. With the kid. McGee. All of it.” He glanced at the door, the sirens louder now. “I’ll be in there a long time, so I won’t be messing anything up for you.”

Footsteps pounded on the steps outside and Liz lowered the knife slowly. He wasn’t moving. He wasn’t running. He wasn’t reaching out for her.

He was a man beaten. He knew it and as his shoulders stooped, he even looked the part. She kept her eyes on him as she reached over and unlocked the door. It slammed open and back against the wall behind it seconds before Matt rushed into the room. Behind him were two uniformed Spencer officers, one she recognized as his former partner Tom Stapleton. The other must have been the rookie he’d mentioned to her.

Gabe brought his wrists together in front of him and held them up, his eyes still on Liz. “Cuff me, Officer McGee. I’m ready for my close up.”

Tom cuffed Gabe instead, one wrist first, while the rookie held a hand against Matt’s chest, as if to hold him back, remind him he was still on suspension.

Tom pulled Gabe to his feet, pushed him against the top of the kitchen table and pulled his arms behind him, hooking the other cuff in place.

Gabe pulled his gaze from Liz and looked up at Matt. “Look familiar, McGee? Bet you wish you had your knee in my back again, don’t you?”

Matt took a step back toward Liz as Tom pulled Gabe to a standing position and pushed him toward the front door.

Gabe tilted his head down, focused on the floor as he walked. “Take care of her, McGee. She deserves better than me.”

Liz swallowed hard, surprising herself when she told Gabe she’d pray for him.

He scoffed, head still down. “Pray all you want. I don’t believe in that crap and never will.” He swallowed hard and looked back up as Tom pushed him through the doorway. “But thanks for saying it anyhow.” He pushed back against Tom, pausing and looked at Matt, winking. “See what I mean? She deserves better.”

Matt stood in front of Liz and pulled her against him as the rookie followed Tom out the door, pulling it closed behind him. She buried her face against Matt’s chest and let out a shaky breath.

“You okay?”

She nodded, grateful for the numbness that was currently settled over her mind. “This day has been really, really weird.”

The vibrations of his laugh against her cheek made her smile. The warmth of his arms around her made her smile. Him being here when he could have been in a hospital right now fighting for his life like Bernie was made her smile. The fact she somehow wasn’t having a panic attack despite all that had happened also made her smile.

She closed her eyes as he held her and kissed the top of her head. For the first time in a long time, she felt safe and calm. Safe in Matt’s arms, safe in his love, and safe in the love of God.

Fiction Thursday: A New Chapter Chapter 26

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn fiction, Fiction Friday, Fiction ThursdayLeave a comment

For the next three days I’m going to share the last of the chapters of A New Chapter (renamed Beauty From Ashes). The complete book will be available in full on various sites on April 26. You can pre-order it HERE or HERE.

Chapter 26

Millie Baker stared at him through the glass door of her shop, her eyes widened in curious terror. He heard the lock on the other side of the door click and the door squeaked as it opened a few inches. “Matt, what should I do? Is that young man hurt? Should I call 911?”

“Yes, Mrs. Baker. Lock the door again and get to the back of the shop and call 911. Tell them we have an active shooter, okay?”

The elderly women lowered her head and he thought he saw a tear on her cheek. Poor Millie. Gunshots weren’t something the people of Spencer ever heard on their Main Street. The world was changing, and it wasn’t something anyone was comfortable with, not even Matt who’d known for years it would all spill into this picturesque scene one day, marring its quaintness.

He turned his attention back to Bernie. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Dan running toward him down the street in the direction of the coffee shop. 

“Active shooter! Everyone, get down!” Dan’s voice echoed through the street that had vacated within seconds after the gunshots sounded.

Dan kneeled next to Bernie in the doorway, looking at Matt. “Did you hear where the shots came from?”

Matt gripped the gun, looked down the street. “Somewhere low, I think. Not up from the buildings. There was an echo when it fired. Like off walls or a hallway.”

“Call it in. Tell them we need back up.” Dan’s jaw clenched as he gripped his service weapon and headed for the alley across the street. Matt used his cellphone to contact 911, pinning it between his shoulder and chin while he tried to get a better look at Bernie’s wound. Mille could report the incident, but he would need to give the police the information they needed before they came in to the scene.

Bernie groaned as Matt yanked his own jacket off while talking to the dispatcher, pressing it against Bernie’s stomach to try to stop the bleeding. “One man down, gunshot to the stomach, trooper on scene needs back up.”

“The ambulance is already on its way, Officer McGee.” The female dispatcher spoke in a calm tone. “I need to tell them if this is an active shooter situation. Is it? They won’t come in until the scene is cleared.”

Matt’s chest tightened. Bernie needed to get to the emergency room as fast as possible. “The scene is not cleared.” He hated saying it, but he couldn’t put the paramedics or anyone else at risk. “Active shooter situation. Have them set up at the end of the street.”

Stan stepped from the other side of him and kneeled next to Bernie. “What can I do?”

“Help me get his head propped up and him stretched out so I can keep pressure on the wound.”

Stan sat and slid Bernie’s head into his lap. “It’s going to be okay, kid. Hang in there.”

Stan’s eyes glistened and Matt knew it wasn’t the cold air causing it. The poor man was a real estate agent who had expected a quiet, calm day and here he was holding the head of a man who had just been shot in their usually quiet, calm town.

When Matt looked up, Reggie was running toward him, weapon drawn, the rookie and his former partner behind him.

In a few seconds it was clear their weapons weren’t needed, though, as Dan emerged from the alley with his hand gripping the back of a man’s shirt as he pushed him into the light and toward the bake shop.

 Disheveled hair fell across the man’s forehead and dark brown eyes. His mouth twisted into a snarl as Dan pushed him up against the hood of the cruiser and yanked his arms behind his back.

“You got what you deserve, Denton!” the man’s voice echoed off the buildings on Main Street. “You snitch! You can die!”

Dan pinned him to the cruiser as he hooked the cuffs. “Are you serious right now? Did you really think you’d get away with shooting a guy in broad daylight?”

The man spit toward the ground, much of it landing on the hood. “No and I don’t care. Bernie got what was coming to him for being a snitch.”

Dan yanked the man to a standing position and shoved him toward the back of the car. “And you’re going to get what’s coming to you too.”

The sound of Dan reading the man his rights were drowned out by the sound of the ambulance. Matt’s attention returned to Bernie whose head was now propped up by Stan’s winter jacket.

“They’re almost here, Bernie. Stay with me, okay?”

Bernie’s head nodded slowly, his eyes closing. “I’m still here. Hurts like hell but I’m still here.”

“You did the right thing, okay? We’re going to get Gabe and anyone else he was working with.”

“I —” Bernie winced. “I shouldn’t have taken that package. I should have known there was more going on than Gabe said.”

Barriers were being set up at the end of the street by Reggie and the state police, but they stepped back to let the ambulance through. Matt only hoped the paramedics could stop the bleeding long enough to get Bernie to a trauma unit, which was a 45-minute drive. It was a clear day. Maybe they could call in the medivac helicopter instead. Living in a rural area had clear benefits but on days like this it also had clear drawbacks.

He sat back only when the paramedics arrived and took over. Standing, he lifted his hands, his throat thickening with emotion at the sight of dark red blood staining his skin. For several seconds he couldn’t think of anything but the blood, Bernie groaning in pain, the overwhelming worry that this man who had started turning his life around wouldn’t get the chance to see his children again.

The voice of the paramedic calling for a landing point to rendezvous with the helicopter blurred with the voice of Stan asking if he was okay. The older man clapped a hand on his shoulder, shook him. “Hey, let’s get you cleaned up. Come back to my office.”

Matt moved his head back and forth slowly. “No. I’ll need to give a statement and —”

Stan’s voice deepened into a firm tone. “We’ll tell the troopers where you are going to be. Come on.”

Matt staggered back away from the scene of the paramedics gently loading Bernie onto a stretcher, turning slowly to follow Stan. He watched the blood mix with water and soap, spiral down the sink as he washed his hands a few minutes later. He lifted his hands and stared at the tremble before clenching them into a fist and reaching for the towel.

“Your trooper friend is looking for you.”

Stan’s voice sounded far away, somehow, like in a dream, but he followed him back out onto the sidewalk to look for Dan.

“Stan!”

Ginny’s voice stopped them both and they turned to see Ginny at the barrier, clutching her coat closed, anguish and worry distorting her usually calm features.

Stan waved at her dismissively. “I’m fine.”

“They said there was a shooting.” The tremble in Ginny’s voice made Matt want to hug her, but apparently Stan didn’t feel the same. “We heard the gunshots at the library.”

Stan’s tone was strained, abrupt. “I said I’m fine. I’ll fill you in later.”

The brusqueness startled Matt, but he tried not to show it. Ginny was clearly upset and worried, but Stan didn’t seem remotely interested in comforting her.

Maybe Stan was made of sterner stuff because seeing Liz walk toward the barrier with an expression on her face that told him she’d thought the ambulance had been for him broke something inside him.

The only people he’d ever had to worry about worrying about him were his parents and his siblings. It had always meant a lot that they didn’t want to see anything happen to him, but it was an entirely different situation watching the woman he’d fallen hard for almost go to pieces in front of him.

When he thought of her, he also thought of Bella and the idea that a future in law enforcement could leave them behind —Liz without a husband, Bella without a father.

Wait a minute. What am I talking about?

He wasn’t either of those things to either of them. Not yet anyhow. He couldn’t deny that he hoped to be both one day. He broke rank with Stan and stepped the barrier grabbing the front of Liz’s jacket with one hand and holding her a few inches back so Bernie’s blood that was on him wouldn’t get on her. His eyes locked with hers and realized that, yeah, he’d be proud to be Liz’s husband one day, and also honored to be Bella’s father.

He pressed his mouth against hers firmly then pulled back, keeping her at a physical distance. Her eyes trailed down his form.

“Is that your blood?” Her bottom limp trembled when she asked it. He’d only seen her that vulnerable one other time, in the front of his pickup truck with a baby covered in vernix on her chest.

He shook his head once. “Bernie’s.”

She looked up sharply, her eyes meeting his. “Wh-what happened? Did you shoot Bernie? Is he dead?”

“No.” He kissed her briefly again. “I’ll fill you in later, but right now I need to make a statement and head home to get cleaned up.”

The dealer who’d shot Bernie was in custody and Gabe would be too soon, but a sudden desire to protect Liz rushed over Matt. “Go home, okay? Can you do that? Go home and stay there until I tell you it’s okay?”

Liz’s brow dipped in confusion. “Yeah. I can do that. If Ginny says it’s okay.”

“She will. Where’s your car? Do you have your keys?”

She nodded and he could tell she was still confused.

He stepped around the barrier, placed a hand under her elbow, steered her away from the scene where more state troopers were now gathering. “Next to the library, right?”

“Matt?” She looked at him as they walked, eyes darkening with worry. “What’s going on? Are you in some kind of danger? Am I?”

He picked up the pace, knowing he needed to get back to the scene and talk to Dan. “I don’t think so, but I just want to be sure you’re somewhere safe. Where’s Bella?”

“With Mom and Dad.”

He scanned the sidewalks and buildings around them as he walked. “Good.”

She didn’t ask any more questions until they reached her car. “Does this have something to do with Gabe? Is he threatening you? Did he shoot Bernie? I can’t believe he’d shoot someone.”

“Don’t worry.” He took her keys from her trembling hands and unlocked the car, still looking around him, avoiding her gaze. “I’m sure everything is fine.”

But he wasn’t sure everything was fine. He’d never pegged Gabe for a drug dealer, but it sure looked like he was based on what Bernie had recorded. Not only that, but someone had ordered Bernie taken out, and that someone could have been Gabe. Of course, there was always the possibility the shooter had just been a little off his rocker, which was also possible, especially if he’d been sampling the product.

He kissed her quickly before she slid behind the steering wheel, closed the door behind her, and when she rolled the window down he told her he’d call her as soon as he was done. He watched her drive toward her apartment before turning to walk back toward the scene. He was glad she didn’t have far to go. Maybe he should have followed her.

He dragged a hand through his hair. No. She was fine. He was over reacting. Gabe had somehow gotten himself messed up in trafficking drugs but he wasn’t a psychopath. A jerk and a horrible boyfriend, yes. A crazed maniac, no. He’d clearly been reading too many Harry Bosch novels lately.

This was Spencer Valley, not Los Angeles, and yes, while there had just been a shooting in broad daylight on Main Street, there wasn’t a full-blown crime spree underway. Not yet anyhow.

***

He shouldn’t have walked away from Ginny, but he couldn’t talk to her. Not there, in front of everyone asking him if he was okay. Of course, he was okay. It was Bernie he was worried about. The man had just been shot and his color hadn’t been good at all when they loaded him in the ambulance to meet the helicopter.

He watched the aftermath of the chaos hundred feet from his office as if watching something in a movie. Was this real? It certainly didn’t feel like it.

A shooting outside his real estate office.

There was something he never thought he’d see. The world was certainly a mess and while he once thought that mess was confined to bigger cities, it wasn’t. It was spreading out, touching even little Spencer Valley.

When he was done talking to the trooper he went back to the office, filled Emily in on what had happened and told her to go home, he was closing up for the rest of the day, maybe longer. The young woman hugged him briefly, told him to go wash up and get some rest.

Wash up. Right. He looked down at his suit and dress shirt, at the red stained there. This certainly hadn’t been his week.

First, he’d found out his wife had kissed another man and now he’d somehow gotten himself mixed up in a drug deal gone wrong. It was surreal and even more surreal was that he wasn’t going back to his house to clean up and try to calm down, he was walking toward the Blueberry Inn where his clothes were, where he’d spend the last couple of nights because, apparently, his life was falling down around his ears.

Unlocking the door to his room — after assuring the young woman at the front desk he was fine and avoiding her questions about what had happened — a rush of emotion pressed down on him. He swallowed it, though, and reached for a towel and a change of clothes. Under the hot water of the shower the dam broke and the tears came. He pressed his hands against the wall, dropped his head under the water, trying to ignore how much he wanted Ginny here with him now, the old Ginny, the Ginny he used to know, not the Ginny who’d betrayed him by kissing Keith.

“He kissed me.”

He heard the words over and over in his mind, but he didn’t know whether to believe them.

Her pleading expression, the tears on her cheeks swam in his mind as the water pounded against him.

“I wanted you to kiss me. Not him.”

He shut the water off and toweled off slowly, remembering the many slow kisses he’d given his wife over the years, thinking about how long it had been since he had, though. Exhaustion seeped through his muscles to his bones and he collapsed on the bed after pulling on a pair of boxers and an undershirt.

Images of Ginny’s worried expression at the scene filled his mind seconds before sleep slammed him hard into darkness.

Looking back at February and forward to March

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn everyday musings6 Comments

I was probably supposed to post this on the last day of February, instead of the first day of March, but whatever. I’m not organized. You all know that.

So, anyhow, February was about as dull as January was for us. We were still stuck inside thanks to horrible winter weather, so we didn’t do anything exciting.

We didn’t have as much snow this winter or during February, but it seemed like we did. We actually had snow at the end of December and then two months of cold and a little bit of sleet and ice, which didn’t let much of the snow from December melt. A couple of weeks ago we received  rain which then washed all the snow into the rivers, which were full of ice already, and threatened flooding, which thankfully never came

The weather did provide some lovely photos of ice-encased on trees, which I shared on the blog and will share again here:


While we were inside, I finished writing the third novel in the Spencer Valley Chronicles series (Beauty From Ashes) and we did a lot of schoolwork. Even though we did “a lot of schoolwork” I still don’t feel like I’m teaching my children enough. It’s the curse of homeschooling parents – the whole idea that we are not doing enough. Despite not feeling like I am doing enough, Little Miss is breezing through all her reading lessons and pretty bored with her math so we’ve had to skip ahead some lessons.

She’s not very interested in history yet so I am not shoving too much at her. She’s 7, so it’s not like she’s really going to remember all of this anyhow. She’ll retain more of that information better when she’s older. That won’t stop me from teaching her history, but it does stop me from stressing that she can’t remember the first president some days even though we’ve talked about it several times. She actually does remember him most of the time but sometimes she looks at me with that deer-in-the-headlight expression and I want to throw myself to the ground and declare myself a failure.

I usually get over that feeling pretty fast. This year I have been trying to work on not stressing over homeschool work as much and realizing that a few missed days here and there isn’t the end of the world, especially if those days are for legit reasons or for reasons that will somehow enrich my children’s lives. February did not offer many opportunities for enrichment educationally-wise since it was so cold and miserable, however.

I am hopeful that March will offer us a few more educational experiences outside the home. A local children’s camp is offering science classes in March, April, and May, similar to what they offered in autumn, so that will be one area where we will be able to get out and meet other homeschool students. We did suspect that might be where we caught Covid in November but honestly, we can’t be sure and we’re not going to live in fear anymore. We’ve had Covid, I know what it can do and what to watch for so I need to move forward with my life as best as I can.

As for reading in February, I didn’t read a ton of books like some readers do, but I did finish four, which is an accomplishment for me.

I finished The Cat Who Saw Stars by Lillian Jackson Braun (not one of my favorites of hers), The Dark Horse by Craig Johnson, His Road to Redemption by Lisa Jordan, and Miss Julia Renews Her Vows by Ann B. Ross. I also read Little House on the Prairie with Little Miss but I’ve read that before, so I don’t really count it.

In March, I hope to read, or finish, or well, at least start, the following books:

Moriarty by Anthony Horowitz

Every Star in the Sky by Sara Davison

Anything But Simple, My Life As A Mennonite by Lucinda J. Miller

Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson

And

Miss Julia Rocks the Cradle by Ann B. Ross



I did not take a lot of photos in the month of February, for the above-mentioned reasons (mainly the cold!), but I thought I would share some that I, and my husband, took during the month.


I hope you all had a good February and have an even better March.

Educationally Speaking: The many books homeschoolers have the chance to read

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn everyday musings4 Comments

The curriculum I picked up for the kids this year for social studies included eight different books in Little Miss’s set and 12 in The Boy’s.  

There is no way we will be able to get through all of them in one school year. They are supposed to be read with certain units but reading them would require reading them all back-to-back and that’s a lot of reading for me (since I’d be reading them for Little Miss) and for a ninth grader, since he is also reading a lot in his textbooks.

Instead, I’ve been picking and choosing the books and putting the others aside for future school years.

So far this year, Little Miss and I have read Freedom Crossing, Benjamin West and His Cat Grimalkin, Tolliver’s Secret, and Emily’s Imagination. We had already read Farmer Boy, which is what we are supposed to be reading for this current unit, so we are reading it again. We read Emily’s Imagination, but I hadn’t even noticed it was on the list when I chose it to read. We haven’t even reached the unit where we are supposed to read it.

Other books in her set included:

Mountain Born by Elizabeth Yates, The Year of Miss Agnes by Kirkpatrick Hill, Katy by Mary Evelyn Notgrass.

I’m hoping to read a couple more before the end of the school year and so far, I think The Year of Miss Agnes looks interesting so we will probably get to that one, if not the other two. She and I already read quite a few books during the year, and we’re also probably not going to finish this curriculum for this school year because we don’t do history every day. This history is very detailed and I add supplemental material, such as videos, to the lessons to make them a little more expansive.

For The Boy, we have already read Blood Brothers by Elias Chacour and A Long Walk to Water, as well as part of Know Why You Believe by Paul Little. We also read some other literature in our American Literature book. Right now, we are reading Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson.

Before the end of the school year, I am hoping to have us read at least two more books if not three.

The books that interest me the most include Lost in the Barrens by Farley Mowat, Revolution is Not a Dinner Party by Ying Chang Compestine, and Tales from Silver Lands by Charles Finger.

Here are the descriptions for those three:

Lost in the Barrens: Awasin and Jamie, brothers in courage, meet a challenge many mountain men could not endure.  When their canoe is destroyed by the fury of the rapids, they must face the wilderness with no food and no hope of rescue.  To survive, they build an igloo, battle a towering grizzly bear, track several wolves, slaughter caribou for food and clothing.  Two lost huskies they tame bring companionship–and maybe a way home from their dangerous adventure.

Revolution is Not a Dinner Party: The summer of 1972, before I turned nine, danger began knocking on doors all over China.



Nine-year-old Ling has a very happy life. Her parents are both dedicated surgeons at the best hospital in Wuhan, and her father teaches her English as they listen to Voice of America every evening on the radio. But when one of Mao’s political officers moves into a room in their apartment, Ling begins to witness the gradual disintegration of her world. In an atmosphere of increasing mistrust and hatred, Ling fears for the safety of her neighbors, and soon, for herself and her family. For the next four years, Ling will suffer more horrors than many people face in a lifetime. Will she be able to grow and blossom under the oppressive rule of Chairman Mao? Or will fighting to survive destroy her spirit—and end her life?

Tales from Silver Lands: Tales from Silver Lands is a book by Charles Finger that won the Newbery Medal in 1925. The book is a collection of nineteen folktales of the native populations of Central and South America. These interesting folk stories include tales about giants, witches, and animals.

What is fun about reading these books to or with the kids is that I get to read them as well. There are books in these lists that I never would have read because I never would have heard about some of them otherwise.

Last year I read Silas Marner, which I really enjoyed, but never would have read on my own. Choosing to homeschool is a joint decision, so the children can decide to switch to public school in the future if they want to, but I’m hoping they’ll choose to continue if only so I have no excuse not to read some classics. *wink*

Sunday Bookends: Love for Miss Julia, more reading and less watching, and a New Zealand theme this week

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn Sunday Bookends4 Comments

Welcome to Sunday Bookends where I ramble about what I’ve been reading, doing, watching, writing and listening to.




What’s Been Occurring

Last Sunday we visited my parents, and my dad actually watched a movie with us, after he took the kids to their frozen pond to do some ice skating. Dad doesn’t usually sit in one place for a movie but he really enjoyed The Finest Hours with Chris Pine and Casey Affleck, which I mentioned I had watched last week. He barely moved from the spot on the couch. I had a feeling he might like this one based on his service in the Air Force, and while this movie didn’t deal with men in the Air Force, it did focus on men working together in a sort of branch of the military (the Coast Guard).

We will not be visiting my parents today because Little Miss and I caught a cold late last week. Friday and Saturday was spent blowing noses, drinking tea and her crying because her throat hurt so bad. I cried because I had a horrendous burning in my nose that results in my eye and nose pouring liquid. Lots of fun.

Before anyone asks, no, I don’t believe we have been re-infected with the dreaded virus. This definitely feels more cold-like and less bioweapon-like.

I figure we picked it up when I took Little Miss to her first gymnastics class on Monday. We had not left the house much before that, other than her weekly Awana class. Part of the reason we didn’t leave was the continuing weird Pennsylvania weather. It’s been cold and snowy and then rainy and warm. I’m waiting for it all to settle a little bit before we plan any major outings.

During the week we did schoolwork and I finished editing on Beauty From Ashes, then realized that I had not finished the final chapter. Sigh. So, while battling a burning nose that felt like it might explode, I worked on that on Saturday, so I can send the book out to my critique group and to a couple of editors this week to get it ready for the April 26 release date.

If you are interested in serving on the launch team for the Beauty From Ashes team, you can apply HERE. There isn’t a lot of commitment to this, other than agreeing to share about the book on your social media sites. Anyone on the launch team will receive an advanced copy of the book in digital form (via Bookfunnel).

In addition to writing and blowing my nose, I also watched what was unfolding in Ukraine with deep sadness. Erin from Still Life, With Cracker Crumbs, wrote a beautiful post that sums up what I am sure many of us are feeling about this conflict.

What I/we’ve been Reading

I finished Miss Julia Renews Her Vows by Ann B. Ross yesterday. I will be reading more of the Miss Julia series. I really enjoyed the book. It was a type of cozy mystery.

Here is a description:


Everyone loves the irrepressible Miss Julia. Her latest triumph is getting Hazel Marie and J. D. Pickens to the altar before it becomes too obvious that they’re expecting twins! But why has Sam agreed that he and Julia will attend the odious Dr. Fowler’s marital enrichment sessions? Could Sam feel their flames need fanning? Meanwhile, this lady of a certain age must spring Etta Mae from jail when she’s wrongly accused of attacking Francie Pitts. With a fragrant felon to be caught- plus a wedding, babies, and a heaping dose of mischief-it’s fortunate for all that Miss Julia’s on the case.

This is the eleventh book in the series, so I plan to go find the first book in the series so I can start reading them in order.

My husband picked this and three others in the series up for me at a local library book sale.

I am in the middle of Every Star in the Sky by Sara Davison, which releases this week. Here is a description for that book:

She is willing to testify against her trafficker.
If she can stay alive that long.

“You’re safe here, Starr.”
How many times has Detective Cole Blacksky said that to her since helping her escape the life she’d been forced into eight years earlier?
Starr desperately wants to believe him, but she knows Brady Erickson, her former captor, too well. Although Cole has promised her protective custody on his family’s remote ranch, no place on earth is safe enough. Brady will stop at nothing to permanently silence her before she ever reaches the witness stand.
And he is powerful enough to do it.
If Starr wants to help the other women, she has no choice but to put herself in God’s hands. And Cole’s. But the longer she and Cole stay hidden, the more her life is at risk.
And her heart.


I finished His Road to Redemption by Lisa Jordan last night and hope to finish Sara’s book this week.

Once I finish her book, I will be delving further into Moriarty by Anthony Horowitz, which I opened to see if I would like it. I definitely like it and am anxious to get into it more.

Here is the description, but I am sure any Sherlock Holmes fans have an idea what it might be about:

Internationally bestselling author Anthony Horowitz’s nail-biting new novel plunges us back into the dark and complex world of detective Sherlock Holmes and Moriarty—dubbed the Napoleon of crime” by Holmes—in the aftermath of their fateful struggle at the Reichenbach Falls.

Days after the encounter at the Swiss waterfall, Pinkerton detective agent Frederick Chase arrives in Europe from New York. Moriarty’s death has left an immediate, poisonous vacuum in the criminal underworld, and there is no shortage of candidates to take his place—including one particularly fiendish criminal mastermind.

Chase and Scotland Yard Inspector Athelney Jones, a devoted student of Holmes’s methods of investigation and deduction originally introduced by Conan Doyle in “The Sign of Four”, must forge a path through the darkest corners of England’s capital—from the elegant squares of Mayfair to the shadowy wharfs and alleyways of the London Docks—in pursuit of this sinister figure, a man much feared but seldom seen, who is determined to stake his claim as Moriarty’s successor.

A riveting, deeply atmospheric tale of murder and menace from one of the only writers to earn the seal of approval from Conan Doyle’s estate, Moriarty breathes life into Holmes’s dark and fascinating world.

The Boy started Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson this week and Little Miss and I are reading Farmer Boy by Laura Ingalls Wilder (again).

What We watched/are Watching

I watched another episode of Brokenwood and really enjoyed it. It is a crime/mystery show set in New Zealand. The episodes are all about 90 minutes long, so it takes an investment each time we watch one.

I don’t really remember watching much else this past week. I tried to focus on reading and finishing the book instead. However, this next week I hope to lose myself in some stories, including The Sister Boniface Mysteries, which is a spin-off The Father Brown Mysteries on Britbox.

We did watch one episode of the latest season of Death in Paradise and it was okay, but that show has lost some of its appeal for me since they are on their fourth DI (detective inspector) and this is a tiny island but has one of the highest crime records I have ever seen.

What I’m Writing

As I mentioned above, I am finishing up all the edits for Beauty From Ashes.

After I send the book out to the critique group and editors, I will be taking a break and then I will start plotting book four and another novella I have an idea for.

I did not write any other posts on the blog this week because of working on the book and because of the cold.

I do have some ideas for blog posts this week and I hope to tackle them and actually getting them written. I should have more time for blog posts with the book finally finished.

What I’m Listening To

This week the husband turned me on to a new-to-me worship artist, Brooke, Ligertwood, who released her new album this past week. I have been listening to her and also to Mel Parsons from New Zealand who I found while watching Brokenwood. Watching the show and listening to her helpe me continue the New Zealand theme.



Now it’s your turn

So that is my week in review. How about you? What are you reading, writing, doing, listening to, yadda, yadda? Let me know in the comments and leave a link if you already do a post similar to this one.

Special Fiction Saturday: A New Chapter Chapter 25

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn fiction, Fiction Friday10 Comments

Here is a special extra chapter from Beauty From Ashes, or A New Chapter for the sake of the blog. We are almost to the end! I mentioned yesterday that the book releases April 26. If you want to pre-order it, you can do so HERE, or HERE but I am also going to be offering to send a copy to my blog readers for free once I have the final version.

If any of you are interested in being on the launch team for the book, you can sign-up HERE. Signing up doesn’t require a large commitment. I just ask that you share the information I will send you about the book on your social media sites leading up to the release of the book and afterwards. In exchange for your help, you will receive a free ebook copy of the book. If you have the opportunity to leave a review of the book on the various sites it will be on sale on, that would be nice too.

Feel free to let me know what you think about this latest chapter in the comments.

Chapter 25

The crisp morning air was helping to wake Matt up, but he knew a cup of coffee from the Community Cup coffee shop would help even more. Sure, he’d had coffee at home, but not with the fancy foam on top that made everything better. Maybe the barista, Wendy, would even swirl a heart into the whip cream for him like she normally did.

Liz’s comments about him being beloved by the town snuck into his mind as he walked. He’d never considered himself someone women flirted with and it had never occurred to him that maybe Wendy had been flirting all this time until now. Oh. He probably shouldn’t have winked all those times and told her she was his favorite barista ever. He’d have to be more careful about sending mixed signals from now on. The only one he wanted to send signals to was Liz.

“Matt!”

He turned at the sound of Stan’s voice from across the street and raised his hand in a greeting. Stan waved him over. Looked like the coffee would, unfortunately, have to wait.

“Hey.” Stan stepped aside to allow Matt into the real estate office, the other desks in the main office empty. “You got a minute?”

“Sure. I’m sure you’ve heard that I have more than a minute these days.”

Stan winced. “Yeah. When I first heard about it, I thought it was because we’d been sneaking around that building.” He gestured toward his office in the back. “Coffee?”

It wasn’t Community Cup coffee, but — “Sure. I could use another cup.”

Stan poured two mugs from a coffee pot that looked like it had seen better days. “Hate to say this, but in a way I’m glad you decked that Martin guy. No one deserved it more than him. I know it’s not the Christian thing to say, but sometimes I feel like if some of these kids had been paddled more as children they wouldn’t have turned out to be such awful adults.”

Matt took the mug of coffee and sat in a chair across from Stan’s desk. “You might be right.”

“Speaking of Martin, I have some news about who owns the abandoned building.” Stan slid a sheet of paper across his desk as he sat down. “Terry ‘Buck’ Simms.”

Matt made a face. “Who?”

“Buck Simms was a business owner who used to live here.” Stan sipped from his coffee and winced, then stood and poured creamer into the sludge. “Owned several buildings, warehouses, a few stores and essentially became a small-town slum lord. All those houses they tore down on the other side of the tracks last year were once his. He never took care of them, didn’t help the tenants, charged them crazy rent. He moved away from here about ten years ago. The deed is still in his name.”

Matt nodded. “Okay. That’s great. Once the property is released from the police, maybe you can track him down and he’ll sell the land.”

Stan leaned forward on the desk, shoulders stooped. The sunlight streaking in through the window hit his face and Matt noticed the puffy skin under his eyes, and the pale pallor to his skin for the first time.

“That could be a problem. No one has been able to find Buck in ten years. The council tried to track him down years ago to get those buildings either fixed up or torn down. They finally seized them through a court order after Buck never responded to all the messages sent to his last known address somewhere in Montana.” He took the paper again, pondered it and sat back in his chair. “Here’s the other thing. Some of Buck’s family still lives here in Spencer.”

Matt took a longer sip of the coffee. He didn’t know what brand Stan was brewing but it was certainly waking him up. “So maybe we can track them down, find Buck, and get the property signed over.”

“Again, might be a problem. It took me a bit, but I finally remembered who Buck was related to. Gabe. On his mom’s side. He’s Gabe’s great uncle.”

Matt set the mug down on the desk. “Oh. Okay, well that does change things.”

“Yeah, it does.”

It also makes Bernie’s story a lot more believable, Matt thought as he stared into the coffee mug.

The opening of the front door startled both men.

“Must be Emily. I gave her the morning off. Her mom’s been sick, and she’s been taking care of her.” He looked at his watch and quirked an eyebrow. “She’s a little early, though.”

It wasn’t Stan’s secretary who stood in the doorway of Stan’s office a few seconds later, though. Mud streaked across Bernie’s cheek and dark circles marked the skin under his eyes. A hole was ripped in the knee of his jeans, and he was breathing hard.

“Matt, I need to talk to you.”

Matt set his coffee mug down. “Yeah, I need to talk to you too.” He stood and gestured toward the door. “Let’s talk outside.”

Bernie shook his head, stepped into the office, and shut the door. “No way. The cops are looking for me, but I’m guessing you know that by now.”

Matt glanced at Stan whose coffee mug was half to his mouth, his eyes focused on Bernie.

“Why don’t we let Stan head out then?”

Bernie shook his head. “No. I don’t want him calling the cops. Not until I talk to you.”

Bernie sat in the chair across from Stan’s desk. Matt remained standing, leaning back against a bookcase on the far wall. “Why did you run, Bern? Were those drugs yours?”

Bernie shook his head vigorously. “No. No. They were planted. I’m telling you the truth, Matt, just like I was telling you the truth about Gabe. I’ve got proof now too.”

Matt folded his arms across his chest. He wasn’t sure he was buying this story. “Where?”

“On my phone.” Bernie thrust the phone toward him. “I also emailed it to myself and uploaded it to the cloud for safe keeping. I ran because there was a meet up with Gabe and another dealer and I knew if I told the cops they wouldn’t believe me. I heard the other guy talking about it when I was leaving after I dropped that package off. I didn’t know if it was still going down but I needed to try. I had to get the proof, get myself off the hook. Gabe saw me, though, and now they’re all after me — the cops, Gabe and the other guy he was with. At this point it’s just a matter of who gets to me first.”

Stan set his mug down. Matt could tell he was bewildered, maybe even a bit anxious, but he was hanging in there. He looked less freaked out than when they’d found the drugs at least.

Matt took the phone and pushed play on the video.

Great. That was definitely Gabe with another guy at a building that looked similar to the abandoned one. He couldn’t make out every word they were saying but Gabe was gesturing toward packages that looked a lot like heroin and the man across from him was shouting back, something about “It’s not my fault if your mules are incompetent!”

He kept his eyes on the screen as Gabe took a stack of cash from the man. “We need to get this to the state police.”

Gabe turned toward the camera seconds before it went black. “How did you get away?”

Bernie ran his hands along his jeans, letting out a breath. “I had a head start. It was dark where I was, I didn’t think he saw me, just heard the twig break under me when I stepped back. I was in my car and part way down the road when I heard him yelling. There was a couple of gunshots, but I kept driving. I hid out at Lover’s Valley until about 3 a.m. and then I walked to your place and waited behind your woodshed but fell asleep.” He laughed softly, dragging a hand through his hair. “Some criminal I am, huh? Anyhow, when I woke up you were pulling out, so I took the risk and followed you to town. I knew you’d listen.”

Matt glanced out the window. “You think anyone followed you?”

Bernie leaned back in the chair, shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know. Like I said, I’m not really very good at this criminal stuff. You should know that better than anyone.”

Matt huffed out a small laugh. He was right. Professional criminal Bernie was not. Nailing him for the burglary and all the other petty crimes he’d committed had been fairly easy all those years ago.

Stan stood and separated the blinds with his fingers. “I don’t know if Bernie was followed by Gabe or the other guy, but there’s a trooper pulling up across the street.”

Matt stood behind him, looked over his shoulder. “That’s Dan. He’s probably looking for me to see if we found out any more about who owns the building.”

Behind them Bernie stood, shifting his weight anxiously from one foot to the other. “Is he coming here? He can’t come here. I can’t get caught.”

Matt turned to face him. “Bern, you’ve got proof.”

“Not that those drugs aren’t mine.” He slid his hands behind his back and when he pulled them in front of him one was holding a 9 mm. “I’m also not supposed to have this. I’m on probation.”

Stan scowled, his hands still on the blinds. “Then why do you?”

“For protection.” He tipped his head up toward the ceiling, sucking in a breath. “It was my dad’s. I know it was stupid, but I didn’t know what I was going to face when I got to that meet up.”

Matt watched Dan climb out of the police vehicle and head across the street toward the office. “We don’t have much time here. We need to make a decision. Pretty sure Dan knows I’m in here. Not sure about you.”

Bernie paced in the small office space between the chair and the bookcase, the gun in his hand. “He’s not going to listen. I know he’s not. If I keep you guys in here, maybe then he’ll stop long enough to listen.”

This situation was going to bad to very bad in a very short amount of time. “Bernie, you’re not thinking clearly. It’s just Dan looking for me to discuss the case. You’ve already run from the state police and now you’re going to hold me and Stan hostage? If we have any chance of getting you out of all this and keeping you out of jail, then I’d advise you not to even think of that scenario.”

Bernie stopped pacing and looked at Matt. “Yeah, I know. It’s stupid. I don’t want to do that. I just need some time.”

Matt walked toward the door. “I’m going to stop him in the front of the office. We just need to talk to him, show him the video. We’ll figure the rest out later. If he can get to Gabe, then maybe he can get him to fess up to trying to set you up for the fall.”

Bernie clutched at the hair at the top of his head, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “I don’t know, man. I don’t think this is going to work.”

Matt held his hand up. “Stay calm, Bern, and put that gun away. You’re not helping your case right now.”

Bernie’s eyes flicked toward the gun, and he nodded, stashing it in the back of his jeans again.

Matt stepped out of Stan’s office, pulling the door closed behind him, at the same moment Dan stepped in.

“McGee.” Dan nodded in the curt way the way state troopers do, which always made Matt wonder if the hat made their heads too heavy to nod normally.

“Trooper McCallister.”

“I thought I saw your truck down the street and took a hunch you might be meeting with Jefferies. Has he got anything on the building owner?” He propped one hand on his duty belt and leaned his hip against Emily’s desk with the other.

“He does, but I’m finishing up another meeting in here. Can we meet at the coffee shop in a few minutes?”

Matt caught a flash of suspicion in Dan’s eyes as he glanced at the closed door over Matt’s shoulder, but he nodded that curt node again. “Sure. Ten minutes?”

Matt tried the curt nod and had to admit it was a bit more efficient and easier on the neck in some ways. “Yep. Perfect.”

Dan turned toward the front door, hesitated and turned back toward Matt again. “Everything okay in here?”

Matt smiled. “Yeah. Totally fine. Just some private real estate business.”

He hated lying but he needed a couple more minutes to convince Bernie it was in his best interest to talk to Dan.

Dan narrowed his eyes but he reached for the handle of the front door. “Okay, then, see you in a bit.”

He walked out but Matt could tell he didn’t believe him. A good cop wouldn’t, and Dan was a good cop. His instinct had kicked in, which meant Matt didn’t have long to talk Bernie into turning himself in and working out a deal with the staties.

When he entered the office Bernie was pacing again, rubbing his fingernails across his front teeth, looking at the floor. Stan was sitting at his desk watching him, his arms folded across his chest, his brow furrowed. Matt was sure this wasn’t how he’d expected to spend his morning. He’d already looked exhausted before Bernie walked in. He was looking completely beat down now.

Matt sat on the edge of the desk. “Okay, Bern, here is the deal. I’m meeting with Dan down at the coffee shop down the street in ten minutes. I want you to come with me and talk to him. It might mean you being taken into custody for a short time but —”

Bernie looked up sharply and shook his head. “No. I can’t go back to jail.”

Matt held up his hand. “Calm down. They’ll just need to question you. I’m going to vouch for you, show Dan the video and convince him that you’re not involved other than delivering that one package.” He leaned forward slightly, returning his hand to a position in the crook of his arm. “That’s all you did, correct.”

“Yes!” Bernie’s tone denoted his frustration and he tossed up his hands. “That’s it. I swear to you.”

Matt crossed one ankle over the other, doing his best to appear relaxed, even if he didn’t feel it. “Then you’ll be fine. We’re going to walk down there together and work this out. I’m going to have your back, okay?”

Bernie had been lied to a lot in the past. Matt was sure of that. He also knew that trust was a hard thing to have when so many had broken that trust before. “I know it is going to take a huge leap of faith for you to trust the guy who arrested you in the past.” He tipped his chin up to keep his eyes focused on Bernie’s. “But I need you to trust me that want to help keep you on the right track and bring you home to your kids. Let me help you, okay?”

Bernie let go of the hair he’d been clutching on the top of his head and stopped packing. He looked up at Matt, locked eyes with him, and inclined his head in agreement. “Okay.” His Adam’s apple bounced as he swallowed hard. “I trust you. Let’s go do this.”

Matt gestured toward the door, tipped his head toward Stan. “Wish us luck. I’ll be in touch about what I find out about the property.”

Stan nodded back, concern clouding his eyes. “I’d appreciate it.”

Matt set his shoulders back, hoped he looked more confident than he felt at the moment. Would Dan accept Bernie’s explanation? Or would he slap the cuffs on him before Bernie could even speak? He held the door for Bernie and then followed him out onto the sidewalk.

He slid his sunglasses on as the sun came out from behind a cloud and then zipped his jacket up to his chin when a cool breeze brushed across his skin. The coffee shop was only a block away and Bernie wasn’t enough of a wanted man they couldn’t walk that far in broad daylight.

The round of gunshots that exploded beside and around him in the next second sent a bolt of shock through him and left his ears ringing. He grabbed Bernie’s shoulder and shoved him to the sidewalk, reaching for the handgun gun strapped to his ankle. The revolver was his personal gun and the only one he had since he was on suspension. He clutched the back of Bernie’s shirt and dragged him backward into the doorway of Millie’s bakeshop, frantically scanning the parked cars and the second story windows in the buildings across the street.

Two people walking out of the diner down the street, ducked back inside and he watched the front window fill with curious, and frightened, onlookers. A groan next to him pulled him from his surveillance and he looked down to see Bernie crouched over, clutching his stomach, red dripping through his fingers and staining the concrete doorway of the bakery.