Chapter 13

13

Lila waved to Roger after she swung open the door and kept running to the elevator. She appreciated he saw her coming and buzzed her in so she didn’t have to find her key. She even kept running in place as she waited for the elevator to arrive.

“I have a letter for you. It got mixed up with Mrs. Danburry’s mail.” Roger held out a long white envelope with typewriter style writing on the front.

She smiled at her doorman and took the envelope, when every fiber in her being didn’t want to. “Thanks, Rog!”

Hopefully, her peppiness didn’t display the sudden fear slithering up her spine. The elevator swished open, and she jogged inside, pushing the third-floor button. By the time she got to her door, the envelope was burning a hole in her hand.

She tossed it on the kitchen counter and headed straight for the shower. After running two miles, she needed to rinse off the sweat. It might also help her mentally prepare to see what was in the envelope.

After getting ready and having a bite to eat, she focused on the white rectangular object. The return address bothered her. A lot.

Sleighville, MN.

Who could be writing to her and why?

Bryce?

It had been a month since she last saw him. Last week, St. Patrick’s Day had arrived, and it pained her inside not to call him and ask how everything went. Well, with whatever they had come up with for the event. The first meeting with the city commissioner they had mentioned putting up some leprechauns in the center of the town wearing a Santa hat, holding a present filled with gold. She had even suggested a treasure hunt of some sort for the kids. Something fun and engaging. Did they do it? Did it go well, if so?

She hadn’t been paid by City Hall in Sleighville for working there. All her checks had come from her boss. So it couldn’t be a paycheck. And she already got her last check from that asshole.

Why would Bryce write to her anyway? He hadn’t even called or texted to check in with her. And damn the man, but she had wanted to hear his voice more times than she cared to admit.

She missed him.

Way too much.

He’d wormed his way into her heart, and she couldn’t seem to get him out of her mind. She wanted to hate him for doing that to her.

“Open the damn thing!” she hollered at herself, as she grabbed the drawer where the silverware was and damn near pulled it all the way out she yanked so hard.

Carefully with a knife, she sliced the top open and pulled out the lone sheet of paper. It fluttered to the counter after she unfolded the page to read it.

Bitch! You should still die.

What. The. Hell.

The last note hadn’t yielded any results. Although Bryce never contacted her, Griffin had once. To relay the news that no evidence had been detected on the present or note to offer any clues who could’ve sent it. She imagined nothing would come from this either. It had to have passed through multiple people to get to her. Numerous prints would be all over it.

She called her sisters and brother anyway. They would want to know, and she needed help making a decision on what to do.

None of them delayed coming over.

Zinnia bit her bottom lip, staring at the note. “I don’t get it. You left. You haven’t contacted anyone there.” Her gaze zoomed to her. “Have you?”

Her head shook fast, making her dizzy at the motion. She grabbed the counter behind her to keep her balance. “I talked to Griffin when I first left, but that’s it.”

Poppy stood by Zinnia, looking like she was ready to jump into the ring and pound the owner of the letter to a pulp. “Whoever they are, they don’t know who they’re messing with.”

Aster chuckled. He was leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. “You wouldn’t hurt a fly, Poppy.”

“Nobody threatens our family,” Poppy snapped back. “You should bring it to the police.”

“They won’t find anything. They didn’t on the last one.” Lila didn’t feel like wasting her time with that.

“It can’t hurt,” Aster said, standing up. “I’ll do it for you.”

She slapped her hand over the top of it before Aster could touch it. Her prints were already on it, so it didn’t matter if she handled it.

“I will handle my own problems, thank you.”

“Okay, who had a problem with you in that town?” Poppy asked, ready to get to finding the culprit.

Lila shrugged. “Denise. And we know she didn’t do it. I got some weird looks from the rumor she started, but not to the point I’d think someone would want me dead.”

“I don’t like this,” Zinnia muttered. She was always the more timid and worrywart out of all three of them. She didn’t like confrontation and avoided it at all costs.

Poppy would face anything head-on.

And for herself….well, she was more like Poppy. She tried to delay confrontation, avoiding it somewhat, but she wouldn’t shy away from it.

So why start now?

“I’m going back to Sleighville.”

“Like hell!”

“I don’t like that idea.”

“That’s what I’d do.”

Aster, Zinnia, and Poppy all spoke at once. Aster would fight her tooth and nail. Zinnia would worry but support her. And Poppy would help her buy the plane tickets.

“Leaving didn’t solve anything. Whoever this person is has a personal vendetta against me. How am I any safer here?” She picked up the envelope, waving it. “Why am I such a threat to them? Because I have to be for some reason, if they sent this. I need to know why.”

Aster stood to his full height, though relaxing his rigid stance. “If you’re going, I’m going too. No discussion about it.”

Hey, she knew when to back off and when to press.

“Fine. What about the band?”

“We don’t have any gigs until May. I have the next month free to do whatever. It’s fine.”

She still had yet to find a new job, so she had nothing to worry about there. Zinnia was a fifth-grade schoolteacher and couldn’t leave during the school year, not that Lila thought she’d offer. Poppy worked at the zoo. While she could take time off, Aster would be enough. Poppy knew that too.

“Okay. I want the next flight out. I’m done messing around and waiting. This person wants a fight, they’re going to get one.”

Aster rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, letting out a strangled breath. “Don’t do anything stupid, Lilac.” His gaze hit hers again. “Promise me you stick by my side the entire time.”

“Ha!” She giggled, rounding the island counter to venture to her room to pack. “You’re hilarious. You know I’m not going to follow that rule. I won’t be dumb and put myself in a dangerous situation, but you’re not going to be overbearing.”

“Watch me!” Aster shouted at her back.

She slammed her door for added effect to that asinine request. A few minutes later, it opened and closed with a quiet click. She looked up from her suitcase to Zinnia’s worried expression.

“Aster has a point. You need to be careful.”

“I’ll make sure I’m not alone at all times. I have other people there I can trust.”

A tender smile emerged on her face. “Like Bryce?”

Lila turned her gaze to her rumbled clothes in the suitcase. “He hasn’t called once.”

“And neither have you. It doesn’t mean you don’t care about him.”

“He’ll tell me to leave again. I might slap him in the face if he does.”

“Or kiss him. That would get your point across too.”

Her head shot up to Zinnia’s where her eyes were filled with laughter. Lila couldn’t hold in her own. They both bursted out with the joyous sound, her snorts mingling in there.

“How do you think he’d react if I did?”

“Well, if Aster’s assessment is correct,”—Zinnia rolled her eyes— “and he’s usually right. So annoying. That man has been wanting to kiss you from the beginning.”

Well, she’d play it by ear. If Bryce told her to leave again, she wasn’t sure what would come out. A slap or a kiss.

Either way, he’d have to deal with her whether he wanted to or not.

A whole month and he still couldn’t control the urge to stop at Frost’s. He had stayed at work until six, catching up on paperwork he’d let slide. Something not normal for him as well. Now he sat nursing beer number two with the strong, uncontrollable yearning for a third. He rarely had three, but tonight he might succumb to it.

Anson strolled over to him, nodding at the bottle. “What are you thinking?”

“That I should stop coming.” The answer was more reflexive than it should’ve been.

Anson leaned against the opposite counter, getting comfy to chat. They did that every night. Chatting about this and that and inconsequential things. Bryce rarely brought up how he was feeling.

“The question is why you keep coming.”

Bryce picked up his beer, finishing it off. There were too many reasons for it. A dead wife. Her murder still unsolved. Lila…never coming back. Because at the rate the sheriff was going with the investigation, that’s what was going to happen. Her staying away forever.

He pulled out his wallet and threw money on the bar. “I should go.” This conversation could derail further into a territory he wasn’t ready to face.

Anson nodded, grabbing the cash. “I’m never not going to welcome you in here, but I won’t be sad if you stop coming in.”

That was Anson’s nice way of telling him to knock it off. Stop making his way to being the town drunk. Though was two beers a night something that would label him that? But if he didn’t stop it soon, he might get to a point where he didn’t stop at two.

“I hear ya, Anson.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, Melody stopped by before you came. She said to tell you hi if you stopped in.”

He smiled and said nothing else. There wasn’t anything to say. Anson knew he had no feelings for the woman. Anson also knew it aggravated him when people bothered him here. He wanted to come to drown his sorrows in a pint or two and leave. Not chat. With Anson, he didn’t mind. Anyone else, it annoyed him. Not that he ever let it be known it bothered him. He’d seen Melody in here more times than he cared to. She wasn’t the only person who tried to corner him in some sort of conversation.

“Thanks. I’ll see you around, Anson.”

He made his way out and to his vehicle. Another night almost over. By the time he got home, it was a little after seven. The lights were blazing through the windows at Griffin’s. He knew if he knocked he’d be welcomed without an issue. But he didn’t. Like every other night.

Griffin and Juliet had already made a few comments to him over the course of the last few weeks on his behavior. Going to Frost’s. Not always shaving. Refusing to come over for dinner more often than not. Juliet even chided him for becoming a recluse. Not quite yet, but he was making his way there.

He didn’t have the energy for company. Not anymore. Not since his life had turned upside down and inside out. He didn’t recognize himself in the mirror anymore. After a quick shower, that’s what he did. He stared in the bathroom mirror wondering who the hell stared back. Bloodshot eyes from the lack of sleep. No matter how hard he tried to turn his mind off at night, it was impossible. His hair getting too long because he couldn’t be bothered to get it trimmed. Emmy, the sweetest hairstylist at HO HO Hair did an amazing job on his hair. She wouldn’t hurt a fly, but she would talk his ear off. She’d want to gossip as if he’d dish every sordid detail about his life.

He scrubbed at his chin and cheeks, figuring he should shave since it’d been awhile. He couldn’t remember the last time he gave himself a good shave. The motivation still wouldn’t come.

Instead, he flicked off the lights, threw his dirty laundry and towel in the bin in his room, and ventured to the kitchen. He didn’t cook. That took too much effort. So he popped in the TV dinners he’d been buying and ate one, not tasting a bite of it.

For a few seconds he even debated on grabbing another beer, before stopping himself and plopping down on the couch. Where he sat in silence. Even the thought of turning on the TV felt like too much to handle.

His phone sat on the coffee table where he had set it when he came home. If he looked at it, he knew what he’d see. A few missed calls or texts from Griffin and Juliet. Maybe one from Duke as well.

But nothing from Lila. And why would she?

He should look at his phone. Make sure no emergencies or anything had happened. But he knew it would read at least two texts from Griffin wondering if he wanted to join him and Eve for supper. Typical of him. One or two from Juliet asking the same. Duke liked to change it up every other day, chatting about this and that. But not to eat. Out of the three of them, Duke knew he wasn’t going to cave until he was ready.

When would that be?

Nope. He wasn’t looking at it.

Over an hour had passed since he arrived home. Nearing nine o’clock, something joyous to him, it meant he could venture to bed and lay in silence there instead of sitting in silence in the living room.

Pathetic.

And he didn’t know how to stop the horrible routine he’d set for himself.

He should go to bed.

Start the whole depressing routine for tomorrow.

Standing up, he swiped his phone from the coffee table but didn’t look at it. The walk down the short hallway felt longer than it should’ve because his feet dragged as he went. He didn’t want to go to bed. He didn’t want to act the way he’d been. Except he didn’t know how to pull himself out of it. Even with his brother and sister’s undying support to help him.

He set his phone upside down so he wasn’t tempted to look at it, then crawled into bed. His gaze ventured to the ceiling instead of his eyelids closing. Because that was what he did. He stared for a long time before attempting to sleep. Once he closed his eyes, it turned into tossing and turning until his alarm went off.

Time passed. He wasn’t sure how much before he decided he needed something to drink. Something, anything to help his mind settle down.

It didn’t take long to down a glass of water. He even popped two pain pills in because he felt a headache forming in the front of his head.

One bathroom stop, then back under the covers he went. His eyes trained back onto the ceiling.

It was going to be a long night.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

He shot up in bed as the cottage alarm went off.

Someone was breaking in.

Finally, something to disrupt his routine. And a chance to unleash some of the anguish and rage that simmered in his belly for too long.