Page 10 of Desperate Creed

“I didn’t make any appointments. Are they new clients? Maybe take their names and contact information. I can call them when I get in. Or schedule something for next week.”

“No, I don’t think they’re new clients.” There was a muffled sound. This time her voice was so low, Frankie barely heard her. “They said it was an official matter.”

Frankie felt sweat trickle down her back, and yet, it was chilly inside the car. She pulled her jacket tighter across her body.

“Official? You mean like law enforcement?” Was it possible the police had already sent a couple of detectives to check up on Tyler? “Did they say what it’s about?”

“No. I told them you might not be coming in until later. They insisted on waiting.”

Before Frankie could ask anything else, Angela whispered, “Just between you and me, the one guy looks a little rough.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t mean to get all judgy, but he’s got this ugly scar on his neck. It’s like right under his shirt collar, but I still could see it.”

Frankie’s eyes darted around the parking lot. Panic kicked her into escape mode while her brain screamed at her, Oh my God, it’s him!

She swallowed hard and steadied her hands.

“Tell them I should be there in about an hour. Maybe forty-five minutes. Thanks Angela. I gotta go.” And she ended the call before Angela could hear her heart pounding or the panic in her voice.

She pressed her body against the seat and ran a hand across her face as her mind raced.

Was it possible they simply had information about Tyler? Was she being crazy?

She closed her eyes, trying to think over the banging of her heart in her ears. She could still hear the urgency in Tyler’s voice. She could see his hand going up as if he were bracing for a blow. The muffled sounds were emblazoned on her memory. Tyler’s eyes wide with surprise. Blood on his face.

Then instead of Tyler’s face, those dark eyes stared right at her like a hawk inspecting its next prey. He’d tracked her, just as she feared. Now, he was waiting for her.

Should she call the police? What would she tell them? She wasn’t sure they believed her the first time.

Frankie glanced at her watch, again. She had an hour to figure it out. What could they do to her in a public place like McGavin Holt?

The weather forecast was finishing up. Another blast of chilly air would replace the premature spring temperatures. As she reached to shift into gear, the local news began with a report about a young man who had been murdered. It had happened in the early morning hours. Frankie punched the volume up.

“Authorities have finally released the name of the victim.”

She was holding her breath, her hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel. Her foot stayed on the brake pedal.

“Chicago police say it appears to be a pre-dawn home invasion that turned deadly. Twenty-five-year-old Deacon Kaye was shot twice...”

It wasn’t Tyler. She could breathe. But only for a second or two until the name hit her. Deacon...Deacon Kaye. Tyler’s friend.

7

Florida Panhandle

Ryder and Brodie had settled Knight in the kennel with the other dogs. By the time they got to the house it was pouring down rain. Hannah stood at the back door, holding it open. She handed each of them a towel. A rumble of thunder rattled the kitchen windows.

“Lord have mercy, you two took your time.” Hannah slammed the door shut.

Creed knew she hated thunderstorms. Sometimes she’d pace from window to window watching the clouds while keeping an eye on the small television under the kitchen cabinet. Usually the TV was reserved for her cooking shows, but this morning a meteorologist walked in front of a map glowing with patches of orange and red. Hannah had turned down the volume, but her eyes darted back to that map behind the weatherman.

The Florida Panhandle had more lightning strikes per year than anywhere else in the country. Because of that, Creed had made sure their facility had enough backup generator power to get through any electrical outage. But that still didn’t comfort Hannah.

She pointed to the dark sky outside the kitchen window. Her eyes caught Creed’s. He knew she didn’t want to panic Brodie, but she couldn’t hide her own concern from Creed. With only a glance between the curtains he saw what worried Hannah.

The north side of their property was a thick pine forest, but this window’s view included a clearing that allowed a good look at the horizon. He could see a greenish-yellow tint lighting up the sky just below the black storm clouds. Usually that meant the storm was severe enough to produce tornadoes. But those clouds were moving to the east and hopefully would stay to the north of them. Despite that, the sky continued to darken. A rumble of thunder vibrated through the walls, and Hannah shot him another concerned look.