Alison Stone

High-Risk Homecoming


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grabbed his arm to get his full attention. Johnny stopped walking and looked at her coolly. “My parents spent every last dime on the very best lawyer to prove his innocence.”

      “Not guilty.” Johnny had the nerve to correct her. “There’s a difference.”

      “What are you saying?” She took a deep breath, focusing on controlling her anger, fearing that if she didn’t, her loud voice would attract unwanted attention from the neighbors. Her family had been the source of gossip once and she didn’t want to go there again. “Still a sore loser after all these years?” Only Roger Petersen, the other teen arrested, had served any jail time. From what Ellie had heard, Roger had maintained his innocence for the duration of his five-year sentence and the five years since his release.

      Johnny seemed to catch himself. “The only losers are the kids who get caught up with drugs who then become adults tied up with drugs. There are no winners there. I’m not happy about any of this.”

      The reality of what Johnny said diffused some of Ellie’s anger. “I know. Drugs are a horrible thing. There was a senior who overdosed a few weeks ago. It’s tragic.” She ran her hand down her ponytail as her eyes tracked a car traveling down the lonely street. “Maybe they should put another narcotics officer in the high school.”

      “I’m a little too old to go undercover in the high school again.” A corner of Johnny’s mouth curved into a grin.

      “Of course. I’m not suggesting you go undercover.” The memory of seeing Johnny—the boy who had befriended her brother, the boy she’d had a crush on, the boy she’d thought was a high school senior—standing on the town hall steps dressed smartly in a police uniform announcing the arrests of the key players on the Williamstown High School baseball team still sent icy dread pulsing through her veins.

      Her brother’s life had been ruined that day by Johnny’s careless accusations. Ellie had never allowed herself to ponder the fact that Roger had actually gone to jail. Had her brother gotten off because of a high-profile lawyer—one whose price had come at the cost of both her and her brother’s college educations? She quickly shook away the thought. No, Greg had been innocent. She didn’t know one way or another about Roger. But her brother had been.

      “So, you’re an FBI agent now?”

      Johnny nodded. “Seemed like a good career move.”

      “Hmm...” Ellie couldn’t help but wonder if his career advancement from a small-town cop to an FBI agent came at the expense of others.

      “Do you have a problem with that?” Ellie detected amusement in Johnny’s tone.

      “No,” she said, quickening her pace, unwilling to let him crawl under her skin. She had spent a lot of emotion over the years blaming Johnny for the sudden turn her life had taken after her brother’s arrest.

      A few houses away from her own, Ellie stopped and squared off with Johnny. She gestured with her thumb down the road. “You don’t think that...that incident back at my shop was random?”

      Johnny gently touched her elbow and coaxed her forward. “He mentioned a package when he attacked you?”

      “Yeah. Do you know what that means?” Her heart beat wildly as the soles of their shoes crunched the gravel on the edge of the road. A distant sound of footsteps echoed in her ears. Was someone following them?

      Ellie glanced over her shoulder. A long row of arborvitaes straddling two properties rustled in the wind. A chill crawled down her spine.

      Johnny hesitated as if he didn’t know what he wanted to say. “The FBI has been tracking a shipment of drugs to your gift shop.”

      Ellie pressed a hand to her throat. Cold fear washed over her. “My gift shop? I don’t understand.”

      “The FBI was tracking a shipment of drugs to your Main Street address when it went missing.” He rubbed a hand over his face and signaled with his head, indicating that they should pick up their pace. His urgency unnerved her.

      “You think I’m dealing drugs?” She blinked rapidly. A soft breeze sent leaves skittering across the sidewalk then up into the air, like a minicyclone, much like her thoughts.

      “I never said that. The FBI has been tracking a package that’s gone missing. We didn’t know if the dealer got to it before we did or if it got misplaced. But after tonight, I think whoever shipped it is still looking for it.”

      Pinpricks of realization washed over her scalp and shoulders. “You’re not in town to help your grandfather. You’re here to investigate a drug deal.”

      “Yes.” The single word came out clipped.

      “And you didn’t tell me because you think I’m involved.” Ellie hated the squeaky quality of her voice. “I’m not,” she added out of desperation.

      Johnny studied her a minute. “I believe you.” His cool tone made her wonder if she believed him.

      She cocked her head and was about to say as much but something stopped her. “What does this mean?”

      Johnny huffed in frustration. “I’d feel better if we had this discussion someplace less out in the open.”

      “Tell me what it means.” Ellie crossed her arms and stood there like a stubborn preteen determined to get her way.

      “It means I’m investigating drug trafficking in Williamstown. There’s some nasty stuff out there.”

      “So you slinked into town just like you did ten years ago, only this time you’re an FBI agent and not a rookie cop.”

      He jerked his head back as if her words had hit their mark.

      “One thing remains the same,” she said, as the pounding of her heart filled her ears, “you’re lying to people to supposedly solve a case.”

      Johnny hiked his chin, a determined look in his eyes. “I’m here because of the recent drug overdose. I couldn’t come blazing into town with a sign on my back. I’ve been honest with you tonight and I trust you’ll keep the reason I’m in town in confidence.”

      Ellie shook her head, not knowing what to think.

      “Listen, Ellie, someone thinks you have their drugs and they’re willing to break into your store and attack you to get them.” Johnny pinned her with his dark gaze.

      “I don’t have the package.” She lifted a shaky hand and hugged the strap of her purse closer to her body.

      “They don’t know that.”

      The wind whipped up and rattled the branches of the trees, sending shadows dancing on the sidewalk under the street lamp. Ellie sniffed the air. Rain. She looked up at the starless sky. She pulled on the sleeves of her sweater and tucked her hands inside. As warm as it was during the day, the evenings tended to cool down quickly. That’s how it was in early autumn in Western New York.

      “Are you cold?” Johnny asked.

      “Yes, and more than a little freaked.”

      Ellie quickened her pace, suddenly in agreement with Johnny’s need to get her home. “Maybe the attack was just some kid fooling around. They’ve had trouble with kids and graffiti at the old mill. I read something about it in the paper,” she added after he gave her a quizzical look. “Maybe he wanted to grab some of my paint and I got in the way.”

      “I don’t think that’s the case.” Johnny’s matter-of-fact tone made her inexplicably angry.

      Truth be told, neither did she. The intruder had asked about a package.

      They turned up her driveway and Ellie slowed, her headache worsening. “You’re not helping your grandfather get the house on Treehaven ready to sell?”

      “I hope to convince my grandfather it’s time to downsize. The house is too big for him. But he’s reluctant. Mostly,