Читать книгу Teaching Ms. Riggs - Stephanie Beck - Страница 7

Chapter 4

The calls started at dusk. Ben looked at the phone and waited. It could be anyone, but she knew it wasn’t. Only one person called her at dusk. She chewed her thumbnail, a horrible habit she’d broken years ago, but it was back. Just like the harassment.

She considered not answering the phone or just turning it off, but Ben knew it wouldn’t work. If she didn’t answer, rocks started coming through her window, or worse. Ben didn’t think she could handle worse again. The door was locked and had the chair in front of it. Her bedroom was also bolted shut. The windows were locked, and all the shades were drawn. Her world was as small and protected as Ben could make it. All but the phone. The new number didn’t matter, and the fact that it was unlisted seemed like no deterrent at all against her stalker.

The phone rang again. Ben tasted blood on her lip and realized she’d bitten through the skin on her thumb. She wiped her abused nail with a tissue and lifted the receiver to her ear.

“Leave me alone, please, leave me alone.” She was begging. She needed peace and if begging was what her stalker wanted, she’d push aside her pride and do it. “I’d give you money if I had any. Please, just tell me what I can do to get this to stop.”

“I don’t want your money, Bennie. Don gave me plenty.” The voice. It wasn’t often that the woman actually spoke, but every time it gave Ben chills. There was something wrong with the woman. Something evil.

“Then what? Please. I want this over.”

“Oh. I don’t know, Bennie, there’s so much.” She laughed, a nearly sweet giggle that made her sound like she was flirting, and Ben cringed. Between the front door lock and the bolt on her bedroom door only feet away, she was safe. She knew that, but the knowledge didn’t stop her from shaking.

“What do you want from me?” she demanded again, checking the windows.

“I watched you at the funeral, and you cried and I liked that. I want you to cry while I watch. I want to taste your tears.”

“I’ve cried,” Ben confessed, the tears threatening again as helplessness filled her. “All the time.”

“Good, then you’re doing something right,” the stalker replied, the bubbling flirt so strong in her twisted words Ben felt dirty just listening. “Don’t worry, by the time I’m done with you those itty bitty tears will be the least of your worries. You just wait and see.”

The line went dead again, but Ben didn’t let go of the receiver for a long moment. She stared at the phone and at her bedroom door, straining to hear if there was movement in the rest of her apartment. She was going crazy.

But this time she wasn’t running. She had nowhere to run. She set her phone beside the cradle and pulled her cellphone from her nightstand. It was a pay-by-the-minute plan and wickedly expensive, but in Chicago the police had used her hanging up the phone as a reason not to pursue the threatening phone calls.

Ben turned on her cellphone. She’d made enough mistakes to know if she started making them again she’d be dead. As much as she didn’t want to bring anyone into her problems, she couldn’t handle them herself. Praying for patience and for the help she so desperately needed, she dialed nine-one-one.

* * * *

Ben didn’t know how she was going to stay awake. Her normally uncomfortable stool at her desk was worse than usual, but that still didn’t keep her eyes from drooping.

After calling the sheriff, she’d agreed to go down to the station to give the full details while an officer looked over her apartment. She’d gone over all the sordid details of her past with the sheriff and one of his deputies. The ugliness was all Don’s and, unlike in Chicago, the Flathead Falls police left the blame on him and let her be the victim.

In Chicago, superficial attempts had been made to catch Don’s killer, but in the police’s eyes, Victoria had done them a favor in gunning Don down. Ben shivered when she remembered one of the detectives telling her that word for word. They had never, and would never, waste manpower to chase down a woman who had done a public service.

Asleep on her feet, Ben finished her attendance papers and locked her classroom door at four o’clock. The sheriff had advised against walking alone after dark, but since it was still early fall, she had a few more weeks until she really needed to use her car. Ben waved to a deputy as he made a drive past her apartment complex just like the sheriff promised.

Hope filled her for the first time in months.

She was about to stop at home when she remembered her aunt had asked her to drop by the nursing home and say ‘hi’ to one of her old friends.

Ben never minded doing her aunt’s bidding, especially if it meant Whilemina Riggs would stay out of her everyday life a little longer. She smiled as she turned toward the nursing home. The good thing about small towns was the distance between places, and of course, the fact that her aunt had sworn never to live in one again.

She loved her aunt, she really did, but the elder Riggs was a pill and a half. Ben turned onto the path leading to the nursing home. She’d visited often with church groups throughout the years and mentally added it to places to escape to when the evenings in her little apartment got too long.

A honk came from behind her. She froze, but after she turned and saw who it was, she smiled. Deputy Teddy Williams, the one who answered her call the night before, had kept an eye on her. He waved as he passed. The hope that had started to bubble became something more and she felt safe. It was so foreign it made her feel a little giddy.

She walked to the front desk and smiled when the receptionist gave her a puzzled look. Ben toned down the wattage on her smile when the other woman showed no signs of warming up.

“Hi, I’m here to see Mable Hampton.”

“You must be Ben.” A nurse from behind the desk shuffled paperwork before she finally looked up. “Mable is already sleeping for the night. She had a tough day.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Ben replied.

“But I’ll let your aunt know you did indeed come by,” the nurse said with a smirk.

“She’s called?”

“Four times,” she answered, and Ben enjoyed the bit of camaraderie that she wasn’t the only one her aunt drove crazy. “I’ll let her know you stopped by, and if you would like to see Mable, and she’s a dear so you’ll both enjoy it, Thursdays are usually better.”

Ben swung her tote higher on her back and nodded. “Okay, I’ll try back on Thursday. Thanks.”

She had time she didn’t know what she was going to do with, but suddenly that didn’t seem like such a bad thing. With a lighter heart she headed back into the heat. The building was surrounded by gardens with paths, so she picked one and strolled through the flowers. If she came across one of the residents, well maybe she could visit with them for a while. Otherwise it was just nice to be in the quiet, surrounded by pretty things.

When she came to a fork in the path, she took a long moment to decide her next direction. Finally, she took a side path and was thrilled when it narrowed slightly and ended at a fountain. Unfortunately, the sweet trickling of water didn’t meet her ears as it should have. She stopped short when a denim-covered butt under one of the electrical panels caught her eye. It was a little naughty, but as she quietly ogled, she couldn’t help but think it was familiar.

The left pocket was torn, allowing a bit of white from beneath to show. The shoes were nondescript, but very white. So familiar, but she couldn’t put her finger on who it was until she saw the baseball cap lying beside him with a few tools. Feeling freer than she had in months, she grinned.

“Wow, the scenery around here sure has improved since the last time I visited.”

He jerked hard and when the blunted sound of his head connecting with the metal box rang out she winced even as she bit back a giggle. She stepped into the landscape and offered Mark Dougstat a hand when he shimmied out, his palm pressed to his forehead.

“Are you okay?” she asked, checking for blood in case he’d really hurt himself.

He peeked from beneath his hand, and pink tinged his cheeks. “Um, yeah, I’m fine. Just rung my bell a little.”

“I bet.” She bit her cheek to stop her inappropriate laughter. She felt giddy, though, at being so bold and carefree with a man. “I should have given you a little more warning. Sorry about that.”

“No problem,” he said and stood up without taking her hand. A small red abrasion showed on his forehead, but other than the scrape he looked fine.

More than fine, Ben thought, looking him up and down as he reached to the ground for his hat. Mark Dougstat was a handsome man. Older than her usual type, if she even had one anymore. She didn’t even want to think about her lack of dating skills. Instead she smiled again and just let herself enjoy Mark smiling back at her.

“So, you volunteer for the school board and here too? What don’t you do, Mr. Dougstat?”

He flushed again, like he was embarrassed by the praise, which Ben found all the more endearing.

“I help out with maintenance here, along with a few of the other men from my church. The nursing home had to cut one of the maintenance positions because of cost this year, so we’re stepping in when we can,” he explained.

He was too good to be true, Ben thought as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dusted his hands off. Or maybe it had just been too long since she’d been around a man who wasn’t scum. She worried the latter was true, but at the moment that past didn’t matter.

“And what are you doing here, Ms. Riggs?” Mark asked, his tone playful. “Doing a little catching up?”

“I tried to. One of my aunt’s friends lives here, but Mable is snoozing so I’ll be back Thursday.” She tried not fidget under his gaze.

She felt his focus solely on her, and that wasn’t something she was accustomed to. Even in class when everyone was supposed to be paying attention, she knew they didn’t. Mark’s gaze didn’t waver, and she felt like she was the only one in his world.

“That’s nice.” He nodded. “It’s great that you’re jumping right back into Flathead Falls.”

“Yeah, I think so,” she replied.

“I suppose you walked again?” he asked, maintaining eye contact even as he gathered up the tools and plastic covered manual beside him.

“I sure did. I thought I might as well make the most of this Indian summer we’re having.”

He nodded again, and she loved how expressive he was. With Mark, she didn’t have to look deeper because she didn’t think there was a next layer on him; he was just a genuinely caring, playful man. Simple in the best way.

“I’m through here for now. Can I give you a ride home?” he asked.

“Are you sure I wouldn’t be out of your way?” she replied, watching his eyes light up at the slight flirt in her voice. It was so nice to tease.

“Darlin’ the city is twenty blocks total.” His voice was all smooth southern drawl and sexy. A shiver ran up her spine as he winked. “And nothing is out of the way when it comes to helping a pretty woman.”

Ten minutes later, Ben watched as Mark pulled away from the apartment building’s curb. He was so sweet. They’d laughed through the short drive. The entire time they’d sat and cracked each other up, and she’d had the strongest urge just to hold his hand.

She adjusted her backpack and headed into the apartment, looking briefly at the front window when she remembered wanting a window planter. She made a mental note to talk to the superintendent about it soon. Maybe Mark could help her put something together. He was awful handy.

What would an hour with him be like? She wondered how quickly holding hands would progress with a man like him. He’d mentioned church a few times and she also had a strong faith, so that made her think he’d court low and slow. Courting, an old word, but as Ben turned her key in the door lock, she thought it suited Mark.

She flipped on the light switch and the bubbly, bemused feelings she’d indulged most of the day evaporated. An envelope waited on the floor with her name written in elaborate cursive. Ben didn’t lean down or bother to pick it up. She retraced her steps until she returned to the front porch, then pulled out her cellphone and called it in.

* * * *

“Uncle Mark, can I eat the chocolate ice cream?”

Mark swore as the interruption made him jump, his niece breaking his concentration. Thankfully the jerk hadn’t done any damage to the birdhouse or to his fingers. He unplugged the saw and leaned back from the bench.

“What chocolate ice cream, Kira? I bought vanilla.”

“It’s double chocolate chip, and it looks good,” she called, and his memory clicked.

“Ah, wait up, kiddo. I don’t think that’s ours.” He set the birdhouse higher on the counter so it wouldn’t fall and headed into the house.

The place was a mess, papers strategically placed all over, dishes in the sink, and the floor needed to be swept. With school starting and the hay needing close attention, who had the time?

He liked things to be neat and tidy but not enough to spend his whole damn day working at it. When the weather was nice and there were chores to be done, inside the house was the last place he wanted to be. He’d clean in the winter when he was stuck for hours on end and the kids were in school.

“Who else would have ice cream in the freezer?” Kira demanded, standing up straight from where she’d been bent over the open chest freezer on the front porch.

She was out of her school clothes and into cutoff jean shorts and a yellow half t-shirt she called a baby-t. He didn’t complain, not yet anyway. He figured he’d save it for a few years down the road when that sort of shirt meant something more than his little girl was hot and the air conditioner was acting up.

“Well, I think it belongs to Ms. Riggs, Thomas’s chemistry teacher.” Mark plucked the box from her hand and looped the other ice cream tub’s red handle over her skinny wrist instead. “I gave her a ride home the other night and she must have forgotten it, so paws off, squirt.”

“Uncle Mark, you’re so weird.” Her tone was a little sassy, but she stopped short of rolling her eyes.

He was glad her manners were finally coming back. Since she’d come home from France, she’d been an eye-rolling, back-talking little heathen. It had taken a few bouts of chair guarding in the corner, but she’d straightened up relatively quickly and was back to being the girl he’d raised.

He walked through the kitchen and to the living room. The air conditioner hummed and did its job in the little space, but it was days like this that made him want to put in central air. It was on the to-do list right after finishing the basement and putting in a new chicken coop.

“Hey, Thomas?” Mark called up the stairs. The narrow staircase was more humid than the other rooms put together, but Thomas still preferred to do his homework in his room rather than at the table like he had as a kid.

“Yeah?”

“Where’s the paper your chemistry teacher sent home?” he asked.

“What do you need?” The squeak from Thomas’s office chair announced he was moving for the request.

“Ms. Riggs’s phone number. I gave her a ride, and she forgot her ice cream.”

Thomas’s tall, lanky frame nearly filled the narrow enclave of the staircase. He bypassed his sister’s side room and hung from the pull-up bar he’d begged for years ago. “Here you go. Ice cream, huh? Are you sure you don’t like her or something?”

“What? No, well she’s cute, but she had a couple of bags the other day at the store, so I gave her a ride to her apartment.”

“I heard you gave her a ride yesterday too,” Thomas said with a smirk.

The joys of living in a small town, Mark thought as he reached for the paper only to have Thomas snatch it back. “She’d gone to visit someone at the nursing home, and we both finished up at the same time,” Mark explained.

“Riigghhtt. Did you know she’s a widow?” Thomas asked, still holding the paper out of his reach.

“Which means she’s single and I don’t have to fight her off with a stick when she jumps me for bringing her ice cream to her house.” Mark hoped he sounded sarcastic, because the comment she’d made about his butt still crept into his thoughts more than occasionally. “Come on, I just met the woman and honest to God, how many women have I brought home?”

“We aren’t here in the summer,” Thomas pointed out.

“That’s true, and even when you’re nowhere in sight I still strike out. It’s as if the scent of a hormonal, cranky teenager and one right on the cusp of adolescence hangs in the air, and acts like chick repellant.”

Mark had missed the back-and-forth with Thomas. The boy was smart and a joy to be around.

He adored his niece and nephew, but the situation was complicated. That made any serious talk or thoughts of Ben something that required much more time than he’d given it. He wasn’t about to bring in a woman who wouldn’t understand, and frankly he didn’t have the time to date.

“Yeah, like the cow poop isn’t enough to keep the women away,” Thomas teased right back and finally handed over the paper. “Do me a big favor and don’t knock her up your first time out. All the guys like her as a teacher, and you know babies make chicks crazy.”

“Who tells you this stuff?” Mark demanded, laughing out loud. “I’m going to remember all of this crap for your wedding toast in ten years, and it’s gonna be a doozy.”

Thomas laughed back, the threat an old one but a good one. So far Mark had potty training, little league, puberty and early thoughts on the opposite sex as speech fodder.

He left Thomas to finish his homework and headed to the kitchen. He grabbed the old phone hanging on the wall and pulled it to his office slash laundry room, the cord long enough for him to sit at his messy desk with it. He probably should have bought a cordless one years ago, but he liked his old trusty one that worked even when the power was out and never had to be recharged.

“Leave me alone! I’ve talked to the police here, and they will find you, so just leave!”

“Whoa, Ben?” The dial tone was back before he got a reply. He dialed again and the call was answered on the first ring. “Hello?”

“Who is this?”

“This is Mark Dougstat.” He was careful to talk slowly so she understood in case something was wrong. “You left some ice cream in my truck, and we just found it. I was going to ask when would be a good time to bring it by?”

“Oh, sweet Jesus, Mark, I’m sorry. I’ve had some prank phone calls spook me a little, and I overreacted. I’m so sorry.”

“No problem, honey,” he assured her, though the news disturbed him. “A woman living alone in a new city, even if it’s an old one, has to be careful. You’ve called the sheriff?”

“Yes, he’s looking into it since they’ve been threatening. So ice cream, huh? I was wondering what had happened to it. I can pick it up. I mean, you’ve driven plenty on my behalf.”

“No, don’t worry about that. I have to run into town tonight for a meeting. Dropping by won’t be a problem if you’re going to be home.” He was already putting on his fresh sneakers, the urge to get to her and make sure she was okay overwhelming.

“Okay, if you’re sure you don’t mind, I’ll be here.”

“See you in about twenty minutes?” he offered.

“Sure, drive safe.”

Mark was torn between concern and a smile as he walked to the kitchen and hung up. Thomas sat with his sister at the table, both with big bowls of ice cream swimming in chocolate sauce. How those kids stayed so skinny he didn’t know, but his mom said the same about him when he was Thomas’s age.

“Going to see Ms. Riggs?” Thomas asked, and Kira snickered.

“Come on, guys, I just met her. I’m actually just going to stop by for a few minutes before I go to my AA meeting at church.” He smacked his dusty hat against his jeans as he dodged the question.

“Sure you’ve got your meeting, but first you’re going to bring her ice cream and play kissy face and make baby Uncle Marks.” Kira giggled, elbowing her brother in a comradely way.

“Doubt it. She’ll shoot him down right after he delivers the ice cream and send him packing, so she can wash her hair or check her Facebook page,” Thomas predicted. “Then he’ll be back to sweet talking the cows. How’s Rowena doing?”

“One of these days,” Mark muttered as he grabbed his keys, “the circus is going to come around, and I’m selling both of you to it. Thomas, watch your sister. Both of you take showers, and I’ll call on my way home.”

The kids laughed, and Mark smiled at the sound as he headed out the door. Their laughter meant something to him. Something he couldn’t explain. From the first time he’d held Thomas, a wiggly, curious three year old, he’d been in love. The little guy had joined him most days, because Mark’s mom needed a break from the constant duties of caring for her grandchild.

The memory made Mark’s jaw tighten as he started up his truck and rolled down the windows. His sister wasn’t going to win any parenting prizes, that was for sure. Maybe in science, but as far as Mark was concerned she’d dropped the ball with her kids. With the exception of the time immediately following Mark’s father’s death, Mark had taken care of Thomas and Kira, and he had every intention of finishing the job with them.

He pulled up to the curb in front of Ben’s apartment and waved to Steven Redick as he drove by in his latest piece of junk car. That guy was bad news but an old friend. There had been a time Steven had helped him drown some sorrows.

After finding his father crushed beneath a tractor, Mark had let his demons find him and hit alcohol too hard. He’d cleaned up his act after Thomas called him from Paris in tears about his new baby sister not liking her nanny. When the little boy had begged to come “home” Mark had straightened himself up and asked for help.

Almost ten years sober and just thinking about that time made his insides turn cold. It was good he was heading to a meeting tonight. It hadn’t been too long since he’d reaffirmed his commitment to sobriety, but it had been long enough.

He shrugged off the hard thoughts as he headed up the sidewalk for Ben’s apartment, ice cream in hand. There was a line between remembering and learning from the past and living in it. God was always opening new windows, and Mark wasn’t going to miss them by not looking.

The main apartment door opened before he made it to the top of the stairs. He smiled, wondering if God was switching to opening doors for him instead. The thought faltered when he saw Ben. He’d seen her less than twenty-four hours earlier, but she looked ten years older. Her skin was pale, bags were beneath her eyes, and though she tried to smile, he saw right through it.

The phone calls, he remembered. They must have been giving her more of a hard time than he thought.

“Hi.” He smiled and offered her the ice cream. He wanted to hug her and tell her everything was okay. Something made him need Ben to be all right.

“Thanks,” she said and forced a smile. “Um, do you have time for a pop or something?”

From the way she’d completely closed in on herself, he thought she didn’t really want him to accept. He had the time though, and his curiosity was piqued.

“Sure, that would be great.”

She might not want him there, but he had to know what was going on and if he could help. He felt a burst of pride when she opened the main door and motioned him in. He was too emotionally involved with Ben considering their short acquaintance, but even knowing that wasn’t enough to put a cap on what he felt.

He followed her through the hall to her apartment as she apologized for the mess he didn’t notice at all. Papers sat in neat stacks on the table, but not much else. What he did notice was the lack of…everything.

There was a sagging couch with no pillows or throws, a tiny TV that looked older than he and Ben combined, and a cheap coffee table. That was all except the microscopic kitchen, where only a table and two chairs sat. The doorless top cabinets showed less than a four person set of mismatched dishes.

“I’m still working on getting things the way I like them,” Ben explained, putting the ice cream in a freezer, which, he saw held only ice cube trays.

“I see.” He watched as she pulled out a jug of store brand pop and two glasses. “You were in Chicago, right?”

“Yes. I went to the University of Illinois in Chicago. It’s a great school, and I liked it a lot. They have an intense chemistry program.”

“I never made it out of Flathead Falls. My dad and mom helped me buy my place when I turned twenty-three, then with the kids I just never got anywhere else,” he replied and took a seat after she did. He wanted to make her comfortable because she looked ready to jump out of her skin. Such tension…he hadn’t seen someone so on edge in a long time.

“Well, if you had to choose a place, Flathead Falls is a nice one.” She smiled, not judging or condescending, just friendly he thought.

She passed him a glass of pop and took a sip of hers. She was still nervous, even if her hands weren’t shaking as badly as they had been earlier. Looking around Ben’s tiny home though, he couldn’t help but make comparisons and follow leads he didn’t like.

There had to be an ugly reason for her living as she was. Curiosity already piqued from chatting with her before, every meeting he found himself being drawn deeper into her life. He wondered if the circumstances surrounding her deceased husband had anything to do with the modest way she lived.

“Say, you don’t want to grab some dinner, do you?” he asked.

She had no food in her freezer, and he’d bet what she’d bought the other day was all she had in her cupboards. That was unacceptable. It might make him late for the meeting, but he had to be sure she was all right.

“I actually had a dinner meeting at school,” she explained, and he wondered if she was lying. Pride could be an ugly and restrictive emotion. “But thanks for asking.”

“Of course,” he replied. If she was lying, he wasn’t going to call her on it. Not yet anyway. He wanted more answers, and alienating her wasn’t going to help.

The phone rang and Ben jumped to her feet. Any color that their discussion had put on her face faded. She looked at him then at the phone with panicked eyes. She was a troubled woman, and Mark hated it.

“Want me to get it?”

“No, but um, I should, or they won’t stop.” Her teeth showed wide in the forced smile, a look he’d taken pride in not seeing for the last few minutes. “Excuse me a second?”

The tiny apartment gave no hope for privacy, so he sat at the table and waited while she lifted the receiver with a trembling hand.

“Hello.”

She stayed on the line for a minute, paling even farther while she pulled and rubbed her dark curls just above her ear. Finally, she hung up none too gently and turned back to him with a shaky smile. “Sorry about that. So how’s the football team going to do this year?”

He didn’t want to let her steer the conversation away from herself, but since he was trespassing on her territory, he let her. He knew fear, had seen it before, had felt it to his core, and he was looking at it again.

They spoke of mundane things, of the town and his farm and the football team. She started to relax, but when the time pressed close to an hour she started fidgeting with her glass again.

“Didn’t you say you had a meeting tonight?” she asked when the hour was nearly upon them.

She was right, but there had to be a reason she was running him off, and he didn’t like it. If she was left alone…hell, it felt wrong to leave her alone. He shook himself. Their short acquaintance didn’t warrant such protectiveness. “Yeah, I suppose I should go. It’s been nice getting to know you, Ben.”

“Thanks, you too.”

“We could do this again soon,” he offered. “Maybe get to a movie, dinner?”

“That is the nicest offer I’ve had in months, and thanks.” Her smile was sad. “Really, but I don’t think I’m ready for movies or dinners with nice men. I’m still getting used to being a widow.”

He could have kicked himself. Maybe that was one of the reasons she was so uncomfortable. He’d thought they’d flirted a bit the night before, but she might have only been trying her wings. “I knew that. I’m sorry. That was inappropriate.”

“No, not at all.” She shook her head firmly. “No, it’s not the widowhood I’m getting accustomed to. It’s more the fact Don was killed by his mistress and left me in a ton of debt. It’s not you, it’s me, and I have a lot of issues right now.”

“Hell.” So much more about the night and her life made sense, even if it wasn’t sense he liked. “Are you serious?”

She rubbed her palm hard against her forehead and wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Damn. I must be more tired than I thought to have said that. I’m sorry. It’s… Let’s just forget that, okay?”

“All right. You’ve got a lot on your plate right now, I understand. If you are ever in the mood for a movie or dinner, you’ve got my number. We can keep things friendly and casual if it makes you feel more comfortable. We could bring the kids along. I can always use another set of eyes when wrangling the kids, and an ally when it comes to choosing a movie that doesn’t feature pre-teens singing and dancing. Friends are good, right?”

“Definitely.” Her smile was less forced but when she shook his offered hand, her palm was cold, colder than it should have been in the heat. She was looking toward the clock again too. “Thanks for bringing back my ice cream.”

“My pleasure,” he replied. “And really, don’t hesitate to call me. I’m awake late and up early. Plus, I spend most of my time with cows and kids, so I always enjoy the chance to have a conversation with another adult.”

“Okay, that’s got to be the second nicest offer I’ve had today.” Ben laughed and walked him the three steps to her door. “Drive safe.”

“Yeah, and hey, you should call the sheriff again if those phone calls keep up.” The advice probably wasn’t necessary, but he couldn’t stop himself from caring. “It’s his job to take care of pricks like that.”

“I’ll remember that.” She closed the door before he’d turned.

Ben Riggs was a troubled woman, he thought, taking a moment to let his eyes accustom to the darker entry hall. The tiny apartment and shadowed eyes made much more sense since her slip. Those kinds of closeted issues only led to more trouble.

Mark took a step and paused. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard the phone ring again; right after a chair had been slid under the door.