Carol Post J.

Dangerous Relations


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I’m coming from the diner, I use the inside stairs.” But Addy wouldn’t know that. Yesterday Shelby had gone shopping after closing and used the other door.

      “Who was it?”

      “I don’t know.” She pressed shaking fingers to her face. Her right cheek was red and starting to swell. “He was wearing a ski mask.”

      “What did he say?”

      “He demanded—”

      Addy’s phone buzzed with an incoming text. She frowned and picked it up. For the next several seconds, her thumbs slid over the screen. Then she laid it facedown on the couch.

      “Who was that?” Maybe it was none of her business. But she wasn’t leaving any questions unanswered.

      “A friend. We were talking about doing something tonight, but I told him this is a bad time.”

      Sirens sounded in the distance, increasing in volume. Shelby continued to rub Chloe’s back. Except for an occasional hiccup, she was silent and still.

      “What did the guy with the mask say?”

      “He wanted Mia’s phone.”

      “Why?”

      “I don’t know. Maybe there was something on it. I told him I didn’t have it. Then he hit me.”

      “Where was Chloe?” Based on how upset she’d been, she’d probably witnessed the entire thing.

      “On the couch. I had trouble getting her to go down for her nap, so I was reading to her. When I couldn’t give him the phone, he tried to take Chloe.”

      The sirens grew louder, one apparently coming from the back. When they died, Addy moved to the door. The responding officer would get the rest of the details. Meanwhile, if Chloe was ready for a nap, Shelby would put her in bed, then round up something to eat.

      Addy opened the door and called a greeting. The thudding of heavy footfalls on the steps followed. When Shelby rose, Chloe’s thumb remained in her mouth, her other arm hanging limp at her side. Shelby walked into the bedroom that Chloe and Addy shared.

      It wasn’t the ideal setup. Chloe needed her own space. But the apartment only had two bedrooms. When Addy had insisted on setting up the Pack ’N Play in the guest bedroom, Shelby hadn’t argued. If Chloe awoke in the middle of the night frightened, she’d feel more secure knowing Addy was with her.

      Shelby stopped next to the portable playpen and bent over the side rail to lay Chloe in the bottom. Her eyes opened for a moment before falling closed again, and her mouth moved in a sucking motion. After picking up the stuffed seal from the bottom of the playpen, Shelby slid it under Chloe’s arm, then positioned the lightweight baby blanket over her.

      For several moments, she stood watching her niece sleep. Brownish-red curls fell across Chloe’s face. Her eyes were closed and her mouth relaxed around the thumb. She was so young and innocent.

      And Shelby was responsible for her well-being—mental, physical and emotional. Never in her life had she felt so inadequate.

      She drew in a stabilizing breath and moved toward the door. A framed picture sat atop the chest of drawers. She’d asked the detectives if she could take it. Since it had been in Chloe’s room, which was untouched, they’d given her permission. It was a picture of Mia holding Chloe. Had Mia felt inadequate, too?

      Shelby touched a finger to the glass. As always, Mia was beautiful. She couldn’t take a bad picture if she tried. But upon a closer look, her makeup was a little too heavy, her smile a little too fake and her eyes a little too empty.

      Shaking off a sudden sense of melancholy, Shelby stepped into the hall. When she returned to the living room, Addy was sitting on the love seat, relaying what had happened. Dave Jenkins was on the sofa adjacent to her in his crisp dark uniform. In his midfifties and single, he was one of the officers who frequented Aunt Bea’s.

      He stopped writing and ran his fingers through his thinning hair, making some of the shorter strands on top stand up. Shelby gave him a nod and headed toward the kitchen. As she passed the door, a soft knock sounded. Ryan was almost twenty minutes earlier than he’d estimated.

      When she opened the door, it wasn’t Ryan who stood there. The man was younger, closer to her age, with blond hair on the long side and a day’s worth of stubble. Ryan had him beat by only an inch or two, but probably outweighed him by fifty pounds.

      She lifted an eyebrow. “Can I help you?”

      “Is Addy here?”

      Shelby cast a glance at Addy. She didn’t look happy. Her eyes were narrowed, her mouth tight. “I told you not to come.”

      The stranger stepped inside. “I was worried. I had to make sure you’re okay.”

      “I’m fine.”

      Her curt tone didn’t deter him. Neither did Dave, with his badge. “Your face is red. You’re hurt.”

      Addy had referred to him as a friend, but that wasn’t how he was looking at her.

      “I told you I’m fine.” Her tone held a solid dose of annoyance. Unlike Mia, Addy apparently didn’t like to be fussed over. Unfortunately, her friend seemed the type to do just that. Creases of worry framed his frown.

      Addy turned her attention back to Dave, ignoring her unwanted visitor. “I don’t know what’s on Mia’s cell phone. This incident is probably related to her murder. I’m guessing there are incriminating pictures. If they’re erased from her phone, you should look for a Google account or somewhere else she might have stored photos on the cloud.”

      As she talked, her friend made no attempt to leave. Shelby wasn’t going to throw him out. Once Dave left, Addy could do as she pleased. The guy seemed harmless. He stood silently against the wall, watching Addy with puppy-dog eyes. As if there was no one else in the room.

      A pang of jealousy shot through Shelby, unwanted and irrational. She turned and walked into the kitchen. She didn’t want anyone to look at her that way. At least not now. Her life was in too much turmoil. The few guys she’d dated had expected to be the center of her universe. She hadn’t had the time or patience for that level of possessiveness then, and she certainly didn’t now.

      She pulled the pack of ground beef from the fridge and laid an onion on the counter. Busy was okay. It was that sense of not being in control that was unsettling. The moment she’d learned of Mia’s murder, her world had slanted sideways. It still hadn’t righted itself.

      She placed a skillet on the stove, then tore into the cellophane covering the beef. Eventually, she’d settle into a routine. Instead of her and Aunt Bea, her family unit would consist of her and Chloe. And Addy. Ryan would probably join them on holidays.

      She didn’t know about her mom and dad. They’d left Seattle for Arizona two years ago, tired of the city, the winters and the rain. They hadn’t made it back for a visit yet. Shelby had hoped the sunshine would lift her mom’s spirits. Based on Shelby’s monthly phone calls, it hadn’t.

      While the beef simmered, she diced the onion, relieved that Ryan was on his way. She’d always felt safe in North Bend. But Ryan’s warnings about his father had scared her more than she wanted to admit. And the attack on Addy had sent her uneasiness skyrocketing.

      Was the senior McConnell responsible? He was determined to get Chloe. He’d made that clear yesterday. But why would he resort to kidnapping when they hadn’t even begun the legal process?

      Maybe there was more to it than that. If Robert McConnell was the one who’d had Mia killed, maybe he sent one of his thugs to get her phone, and when Addy didn’t produce it, the guy tried to come up with a bargaining chip—the kid for the phone. Maybe the two events weren’t even connected. What if Mia had more than one enemy?

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