Now and Always (8 page)

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Authors: Lori Copeland

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BOOK: Now and Always
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Another sign shot up. “Ice cream?”

She reached for her standard refusal. “Lactose intolerant.”

His sign bobbed. “Cheese fries?”

Her sign. “Too many carbs.”

“Ice water?”

“Not thirsty.”

When she glanced over again, she stifled a giggle. The sign in the window was now one of a cross-eyed man with his tongue stuck out. The exchange was fun.

But you'd think adults could find more productive ways to use their time.

By the time Katie reached the warehouse checkout counter, she'd strained a muscle in her back unloading and loading the items onto the conveyer belt. The itemized amount totaled more than Tottie would spend in two weeks — more like two months. But there was a lot of food here. The bill would average out over a period of time; Katie couldn't expect the savings to show right away. It could also take awhile to have anything tangible to convince Warren that her marketing in bulk had paid off, but she had made a start. She pushed the cart out to the jeep, glowing. Was she good or what?

Katie loaded the bags in the jeep, packing it carefully. When she was through, there was room for more in the back seat. If she had any money left, she could have gone back for another load. Think what she could have saved. She closed the jeep door, leaving it unlocked while she pushed the cart back to the front of the store to be picked up. Lena Jackson from church hailed her, and Katie paused to talk for a few minutes. She thought she probably should have locked the jeep, but figured she could keep an eye on it. She managed to end the conversation at last and make a break for the jeep. She should have been home an hour ago. Tottie would be worried. But she had finally given in and told the trusted church friend about the strange phone call she had received the other day. Now she wished she'd kept quiet. There wasn't anything definite that pointed to a safety issue, but considering the nature of the shelter, she couldn't be too careful.

She got behind the wheel and drove out of the lot, avoiding any sudden swerves that would shift her carefully packed bounty. The envelope holding the weekly amount for jeep fuel lay on the seat. She'd burned extra gas making the twenty-mile round trip to Warehouse Blowout, but that was a minor problem considering the amount of money she'd saved on staples. Besides, gas had dropped two cents, so by her calculations, she could fill the tank and have a dollar left over for the following week. So far the budget was working like a charm. She was grateful for Warren's expertise, but she wasn't kidding herself. The budget was going to be hard to follow. But she could do it. If it meant saving Candlelight, she could do most anything.

A red light brought traffic to stop and while waiting, she leaned backward and located the orange sack. The drawstring opening gave her a little trouble, but she managed to extract one before the light changed. She peeled the round globe of juicy fruit with her teeth and bit into it. Sweet juice popped out and rolled down her chin. Fumbling for a tissue, she eased up on the gas about the time she heard the piercing scream of a siren. A glance in the rearview mirror confirmed her suspicions. Ben. The sedan with the wailing siren was on her tail now. Katie pulled to the side of the highway wondering what he wanted. She wasn't speeding. The budget said nothing about speeding tickets, but Warren would undoubtedly freak at the wasted money. She rolled her window down and waited as the sheriff approached.

He bent down, placing his folded arms on the open window frame. “Hey there. How's it going?”

“What are you doing this far from home?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing.”

She reached for a sign and slapped it on the windshield.

He grinned. “I can't read it.”

“You know what it says.”

“Do you have dandruff?”

Dandruff? What a question.
“No, I don't have dandruff.”

“You sure wash your hair enough.”

She slapped the sign back on her seat. The guy was impossible. He flashed an easy grin, his hazel eyes sparkling. Reddish blond hair, ruddy complexion, and a sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of his nose made him the typical, ornery redhead. “Okay, so I stopped you in hopes you'd misread my sign. Would you like to go out for dinner Saturday night?”

“You turned on your siren and scared me half to death to ask for a date? I expected a ticket at the very least.”

“I can arrange that if you like; however, I'd rather take you out.”

Katie really didn't want to date him, but she didn't want to hurt him either. Sure she was still miffed about the prom, but over the years she'd decided the spat wasn't worth a serious grudge. These
days they had fun tormenting the other with their silly signs. Actually, thinking up new rejections had gotten to be a game with Katie. When Ben married — if he ever married, she'd miss the poster board banter. “I don't go out much because I never know when I'll be needed at home.”

She could take care of herself. At any rate, there had never been any romantic sparks, and she didn't want to start something she wouldn't be inclined to finish.

He shook his head. “I admire your commitment, Katie, but you're putting your life on hold for the shelter. It's time you did something for yourself.”

“And the women would do what?”

“Anytime you want to go out, I'll send a man to watch the house.”

“That isn't the point. There's little I could do if trouble erupted, but I feel a need to stay close. They're insecure.”

“How much of this is what God wants you to do, and how much is based on your family's history?”

Katie considered the question. “I don't know; I just know this is where I'm supposed to be right now. I don't have any idea what the future will bring, but as long as God allows me to run Candlelight Shelter, I'll do the best I can.”

Ben shifted, his arm propped on the windowsill. “That's what I like about you — you hang in there despite the odds. Okay, if you won't go to dinner on Saturday, how about taking in the high school football game on Friday night? They run a mean concession stand. All the hot dogs and chips you can eat, and you can come with dirty hair.”

“All the hot dogs I can eat?”

“And I'll throw in double lattes at the café later.”

She gave in. He was good company, and she'd have fun. Besides he'd said the magic word. Latte. And he would be buying, so she could have more than one.

“I'll pick you up around six.”

He walked to his patrol car, and she pulled out into the heavy stream of late afternoon traffic. Half a mile down the road, she slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting a steer that wandered in and was in grave danger of going to that great hamburger heaven if he didn't move his carcass.

Now dimly aware of headlights in her rearview mirror, Katie eased closer to the wheel. The dark, late model sedan hung back, but when another motorist passed, the sedan speeded up enough to force the second driver to cover the distance between both cars.

After several incidents of pass and go, doubt started to creep into Katie's mind. Was the dark sedan following her?

She steadied her trembling hands.
Be calm. You're having
a lack-of-caffeine reaction, that's all.
Every sick scenario she'd seen on TV news raced through her mind. Women kidnapped and killed. Women vanished, never to be found.

Sweat balled on Katie's upper lip. The sun set early these days, and thickening shadows swallowed the cab interior, though it was barely five o'clock.

She wasn't aware the jeep had drifted over the center line until the blaring of horns jerked her back to reality. She yanked the wheel, and the jeep swerved to the right. Close call.
What
should I do, God? What should I do?
Doubt no longer confused her. The sedan was right on her tail.

A sense of awful evil hung in the dusky interior. Katie realized she hadn't turned on the headlights. She could see the road in the twilight, but other drivers would have a hard time seeing her. She glanced at the odometer. Six miles to the shelter. Moments ticked by. Traffic thinned, and Katie mechanically accelerated.

The Little Bush turnoff appeared, and she suddenly served the jeep onto the off-ramp. The move caught the sedan driver off guard, and the car shot on down the highway.

Seconds later Katie pulled up in front of the sheriff's office and slammed on the brakes. Bolting out of the jeep, she shot into the office. The dispatcher glanced up as she shoved open the glass door and entered.

“Katie?” The woman removed her mouth piece. “What's wrong?”

“Is Ben back?”

The dispatcher glanced at the clock hanging behind the desk. “Not yet. He should be shortly.”

Katie's heart plummeted. “Okay.” Did she disturb him with a crazy notion that even she wasn't convinced happened? Traffic was heavy; the sedan could have innocently been trying to keep pace with the heavy flow.

Katie, you're losing it.

She shook her head. “No — don't bother him. I just thought of something I needed to tell him.” Clearing her throat, she backed out. “Thanks.”

Katie got back into the jeep, adjusting the rearview mirror. Her pulse still raced from the puzzling incident. She could have sworn that sedan was following her.

Turning the ignition, she backed out of the sheriff's lot.

But rarely was an intuition this powerful wrong.

Eight

Katie burst through the shelter's back door, slamming the screen behind her.

Tottie dropped the cast-iron skillet she held, one hand flying to her throat. “What?”

The smell of frying meat filled the air — hamburger for dinner. Katie leaned against the wooden door frame, drinking in the familiar sights and sounds, so far removed from the terror she'd experienced. She shook her head, trying to get her breath. When she could speak, she stammered, “I think someone was following me home.”

Tottie reached for the ever-present ball bat. “Is someone out there now?”

“No. I ditched them and then drove to the sheriff's office.”

“What'd Ben say?”

“He wasn't back yet, and I didn't want to bother him.” She moved to sit down, her heart still hammering. “I didn't want to alarm him since I'm not certain I was being followed, but it sure looked to me like I was.”

“How far did they follow you?”

“I'm not certain. I was too frightened to stop and look. I got out of that jeep as soon as I could slam it into park. I ran into the sheriff's office and didn't look back.”

“When did you first suspect someone was there?” Tottie held her head at an alert angle, apparently listening for outside noises.

“Soon after I left the grocery warehouse. I wasn't sure for a few miles, but then the sedan crept closer and closer. I wasn't aware of it until I got onto the highway.” Katie shuddered, realizing her blouse was damp with perspiration. Whatever had taken place, it had been very real to her.

Tottie placed the baseball bat beside the door and picked up the shotgun she kept in the corner. The weapon had remained there since Ed Mathis attacked Katie a few years back. “Get out of the way and open the door.”

Katie automatically moved to obey. “There's no one there now. I ditched the sedan on the Little Bush turnoff.”

“Never hurts to be certain.”

“Where are you going?”

“Find out if someone is hiding in that jeep, of course.”

Katie marveled at Tottie's casual acceptance of the situation. “Not by yourself, you're not.” She wasn't exactly crazy about the idea of going out there, but she couldn't let Tottie tackle their intruder, imagined or real, alone. She scooped the skillet off the floor and followed behind.

They eased out the back door and around the side of the house, staying clear of the yard light. Tottie cautiously approached the jeep, and Katie crept along behind, holding the cast-iron skillet, comforted by its weight in her hand. If hit by
this monster, the culprit would see stars for a week. Everything was calm; not a car — except for the jeep and the farm pickup, was in sight. Tottie slowly lowered the gun barrel and took her fingers off the trigger. “No one here now. But someone could have been.”

“I'm certain they didn't follow me to the jail.” Katie took a calming breath. “What do you think they wanted?”

“What they always want, to scare you. Most likely if someone was following you, it was one of those thugs the women are associated with.”

Townsend entered Katie's mind, since Clara was the newest guest. “I'm certain they didn't follow me from town. I kept close watch.”

“But you never know if they doubled back once you left the jail. You can't be too careful, Katie. You report this incident to Ben first thing in the morning.”

As much as she dreaded the thought, she agreed. She couldn't be too careful.

Not when she
knew
that sedan had been following her.

Tottie led the way back to the kitchen where a boil of smoke and the smell of burned meat greeted them.

“Heavenly days!” The housekeeper bolted to the stove and jerked the skillet of hamburger off the burner.

Smoke roiled, setting off the alarm. Katie dragged a chair over and climbed up to hit the button on the smoke alarm. Meg popped through the doorway. “I smell smoke. Is there a fire?”

“No, we just scorched the hamburger.”

Meg shot Katie a calculating stare. “Tottie never burns anything.”

“So blame me.” She figured it was her fault anyway, since she'd sent Tottie on a wild goose chase.

Nine

The women helped carry in the groceries. When everything had been laid out on the counters, the kitchen table, and the floor, Tottie stood back, hands on hips, eyes skimming the industrial-sized cans. Her expression wasn't quite as joyful as Katie had expected.

“Are we feeding the entire east continent?”

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