Chapter Twelve
Lily came awake and stretched with a groan before opening her eyes. Dammit, she was still dressed in her clothes from yesterday, though minus her shoes. Had she been sleep walking again? Sitting up, she tried to recall the previous night’s events. She and Christian had decided on a funny action movie – nothing romantic – and had played it safe by settling in on opposite sides of the couch. Now, for the life of her, she couldn’t remember how the movie had ended. Obviously she had fallen asleep, but considering she was in her own home and in her own bed, the question was: How had she gotten here? Had Christian woke her and she just didn’t remember? Or had she walked here in some sort of dream fog?
Groaning loudly, she threw herself back on the bed and hid her eyes in the crook of her elbow. This was getting intolerable. Loathe to subject Christian to another one of her crazy interrogations, Lily dragged herself off the mattress and into the bathroom with every intention of speaking to an expert, and no, she didn’t mean Doctor Hillary. When it came to advice, there was no one quite as good at dispensing wisdom as Mrs. Potter, and since Lily was working the night shift tonight at the diner, Lily had plenty of time to listen.
Mrs. Potter was a human who lived on the outskirts of pack territory and had inadvertently discovered shifters when Alek, Daisy’s mate and Mrs. Potter’s then boarder, had leapt from an upstairs window in full tiger form to save Daisy from Garrett Foley – a pride member who had taken it upon himself to hunt them down and drag them back to the Everglades to face shifter justice for the murder of Hank Kramer. Once Foley had been dealt with, Alek had attempted to impress upon Mrs. Potter the necessity for secrecy, only to discover that having lived so close to pack lands for most of her life, the woman had always suspected, and would never betray them. She was the closest thing Lily had to a best friend aside from Daisy, perhaps even a maternal figure – so different from her own experience growing up – and someone she could absolutely trust.
Making quick work of showering, she dressed in jeans and a light sweatshirt. The weather predicted was mild, but for a Florida native, the mountain town of Malsum Pass never seemed to actually get warm – at least not the temperatures that she considered warm – so layers were a girl’s best friend.
Apparently it was a Patsy Cline kind of morning for Mrs. Potter. The strains ofI Fall to Piecesclearly heard before Lily even broke through the line of trees that separated the older woman from the pack boundaries surrounding the town. Lily chuckled and shook her head, knowing that Mrs. Potter was once again protesting the hearing aids she should be wearing.
Such a wonderful woman was Mrs. Potter, and so dear to both Lily and Daisy. Just being around the human calmed Lily’s nerves as if she was wrapped in a protective embrace. It had been too long since Lily had last visited.
It had been Mrs. Potter who had suggested the support group. Her approach had been somewhat subtle, at least, it was subtle for Mrs. Potter, but it had been an unmistakable nudge all the same.
“I was speaking to a lady in my congregation today.” Mrs. Potter shook her head, “Such a nice lady, but so dreadful what’s happened.”
Lily paused in cutting out the squares for the quilt she was helping Mrs. Potter with. “What happened?”
Mrs. Potter shook her head again and made a tsking sound. “Her son has moved back in with her now that he and his wife have divorced, you know. Poor boy has issues, medicated and such, but he has the devil’s own temper.”
Mrs. Potter’s brow was knit with concern as she resumed pinning, and Lily waited for her to finish the story while a creeping fear of what was to come slid up her spine. Clearing her throat, she prompted, “And?”
“She came to church with bruises on her face, said she took a fall, but later confided in me.” Another shake of the head and a resigned sigh. “I told her she needed to call the police, make them talk to the boy, but she’s scared.”
Lily squeezed the handle of the sheers until the bones in her hand protested, but Mrs. Potter continued without further prompting. “So I told her about a support group for battered women that I know of. They meet in the basement of the church every week. Another of my friends, Barb, you haven’t met her, but her daughter swears by the meeting. Says that if nothing else, going reminds her that she’s not alone.”
Then Mrs. Potter had looked up at her with those kind blue eyes, “No one should ever feel alone.”
Lily may not have run right out to join, but the seed had been sown, and eventually, Lily had come to the conclusion that she had nothing to lose by checking things out.
Climbing the steps of the porch, Lily didn’t bother to knock, knowing that Mrs. Potter wouldn’t hear it over the music anyway, but she called out loudly as soon as the door was open.
Mrs. Potter’s cherubic face popped around the doorway to the kitchen and a fond smile dimpled those rosy cheeks. If ever there was a look-a-like contest for Mrs. Santa Claus, Eloise Potter would win hands down.
“Perfect timing.” She called out with a thump of her cane, “I just put the kettle on.”
Moving to the kitchen to help, Lily couldn’t help but breathe in deep. This place smelled like a home should, warm with hints of cinnamon, lemon, and the Pine-Sol Mrs. Potter used to clean. All of the furniture was comfortable, surrounded by knick-knacks and pictures – the memories of a happy life and the family that Mrs. Potter had built that life with.
A twang of envy pinched in Lily’s chest. Daisy was currently working on building just this sort of happy home. Lily herself had once thought that this would be her future with… No. She was not going to spoil her day with thoughts of Hank Kramer and she sure as hell wasn’t going to start daydreaming about home and hearth withthat bearcast in the role. Even if theyhadbecome friends of a sort. But maybe someday, after she had spent time finding herself, healing herself, then maybe she could share herself with someone worthy and have memories worth displaying.
And with the thought of healing herself fresh in mind, she blurted “I’ve been sleep walking.”
Mrs. Potter raised a questioning brow before her lips turned up into a smile and she nodded her head as if in complete agreement, “That’s nice, dear.”
Lily couldn’t help but chuckle in fond exasperation. Mrs. Potter hadn’t heard a word she had said. Man, how she loved this woman.
Detective Janet Sanford was once again staring at her computer screen when Rick Gimbal approached her desk. “What are you working on?”
Janet let out a distracted “Hmm?” before pulling her eyes from the data she was studying and focused properly on her partner. She shook her head. “I ran the plates on one of the group members at the meeting last night.”
Rick propped himself up in his usual spot on the corner of her desk. “Anything interesting?”
Janet sighed and leaned back in her chair. “Not even a traffic violation.”
Rick let out a chuckle and set down the extra coffee he’d bought for his partner. “Well, I may have a lead.”
At his partner’s ‘get on with it’ look, he started laying down the new information. “A man was attacked late last night in his home by what a witness described as a blonde woman with a baseball bat.”
