It’s all Tyler’s fault.
I take my time, selecting the perfect colors that will complement but not compete with the new artwork. Every so often, I catch a glimpse of the man who came in behind me. Seems like he’s doing some home project, dropping a hammer in a bucket as he passes. He’s probably trying to be polite, and I’m hogging the paint. I grab the final swatch, and Pete, the owner, is at my elbow.
“Miss Amy, you doin’ some redecorating again?”
I smile at the older man who’s become a friend over the past few years. “I am. This time for me.”
“Glad to hear it. Got someone to help you?”
“Uh, yeah. My husband’s in town again.”
“Mm-hmm.” His murmur holds complete disbelief since Tyler’s never set foot in the store. I should probably bring him with me on my next visit since he seems determined to hang around. As Pete starts the paint mixing machine, my phone rings.
I don’t give Katherine a chance to announce herself. “Why are you calling me? You’re supposed to be relaxing and getting sexed up.”
“We didn’t go.”
I’m surprised she’s not more upset. “What happened?”
“Emergency foster. We’ve been so busy getting them settled. And then getting them to their relatives back East. I didn’t have a second to call you.”
“Oh, Katherine. What about your trip?” I check the wet paint on the first can, a pale sky blue, and nod my approval.
“Delayed. We’ll get there. But what about you? How are things with your husband? Tyler, right?”
I sigh. “Good, mostly. I’m not used to having him around.”
“How long is he here for? Can we meet him? The wedding was so rushed. What about dinner or something?”
It would be weird to hide my husband. “Of course. Probably after I finish the remodel. He…um…he retired. So—”
“Oh my god. That’s great.” Katherine is much happier about this news than I am. “You finally have someone to help you with that huge place. Why didn’t you tell me he was retiring?”
“It was kind of a last-minute decision. Problem with his boss.” Or the boss of a crime family, but whatever. I step around the large man again. He’s clearly not a local because he doesn’t know his way around the place. That and his all-black clothes. He continues to circle the aisles like a lost toddler.
“Where are you?” Katherine’s voice interrupts my musing on the probable New Yorker.
“Hardware store. They’re mixing my last can of paint.” I check my watch. “In fact, I need to get back to the inn.” Before a possessive, paranoid man comes looking for me. “I’ll talk to Tyler and see when we can meet for dinner.” So she can get to know my soon-to-be ex-husband.
“Gabe can help with the painting. I know he’ll want to. In fact, he was a little miffed you planned to do it while we were gone. You know how he is.”
I do. “I wasn’t trying to keep him from helping. It’s just my only window, and you’re supposed to be on your honeymoon. But I’d love his help if he has a day free. Will you ask him for me?”
Katherine agrees and ends the call. She’s an amazing woman and too smart. Tyler and I have to get our story straight before we meet with her when she’s not distracted by her wedding. With the paint paid for and loaded in the car, I navigate the single road through town. A few tourists amble along the brick-lined walk. A part of me is worried about missing out on a month’s income, but the Sunflower will get a bad reputation if I don’t keep it fresh. Better to take the hit now instead of during the busy ski season.
A car bumps into me at the stop sign. What the hell? It wasn’t a hit, but maybe more of a distracted roll. I look back through the rearview mirror and freeze. It’s the big guy in the black hoodie from the store but with sunglasses and a cap. I can’t see what he looks like. The hair on the back of my neck stands up.
I turn right without using my blinker. Will he follow? Should I check my car for damage? I don’t want to stop, so I call Tyler. He answers on the first ring.
“I think someone’s following me.” I can’t conceal the panic in my voice.
“Who?”
“I don’t know. He was in the store, then bumped my car with his at the stop sign.”
“Don’t stop.No matter what. Go to the sheriff’s office now. I’ll meet you there.” A door slams, then Tyler hangs up.
The station isn’t far, but the guy bumps me harder when I stop again. I roll through the next stop sign. No one seems to notice what’s going on. I can’t see a front plate from my mirror, but it could be an out-of-state car. Finally, I pull into the sheriff’s parking lot. As soon as I settle in a spot, I look for the gray sedan, but it’s gone. A shaky breath rattles through my chest. It might be the first one I’ve taken since I called Tyler.
