Dead by Midnight Part 17

"Please leave," Lorie told him. "I appreciate everything the sheriff's department is doing to help me, but from now on I don't see any reason for you to stay personally involved."

"I...uh...I'll let Ms. Gilbert know that I'm leaving," Mike said, unable to think of anything else to say.

Lorie rushed past him and down the hall toward her bedroom. Mike clenched his jaw tightly. He had handled that all wrong. But then him doing that with Lorie wasn't something new. He had been handling his feelings for her in the wrong way ever since she returned to Dunmore.

Why hadn't he listened to his mother and to Molly years ago when they had both encouraged him to forgive Lorie?

"She ruined her life and practically destroyed herself in the process," Molly had told him. "And she lost you." His wife had caressed his cheek. "How horrible for her. I can't imagine what it would be like to lose you."

"You'll never lose me, sweetheart."

She had smiled at him, that beautiful smile that he still saw every day whenever he looked at his son.

"You should be kind to her," Molly had said. "Go to her, tell her that you forgive her, that you'll be her friend."

His Molly had been kind and generous. Despite the fact that in the beginning, she had felt threatened by Lorie's return, she had overcome her fears and found it in her big, loving heart to plead with him to forgive Lorie.

He would have done anything for Molly, especially during the final year of her life, but that one thing-forgive Lorie. Molly had to have known what it had taken him years to figure out, that his inability to forgive Lorie had as much to do with him still loving her as it did with him hating her.

Molly, Molly. I'm sorry, sweetheart, if I ever gave you any reason to doubt how much you meant to me. I loved you. I miss you every day.

"You're still here?" Sh.e.l.ley Gilbert asked as she walked into the living room. "Lorie said you were leaving."

"I was just going," he replied.

Sh.e.l.ley nodded.

"Is she all right?" He glanced down the hallway.

"Not really. She was crying, but doing her best not to."

"Take care of her."

"That's my job."

"There will be someone outside for the rest of the night," Mike said.

"Thanks. I think we'll be okay."

Mike let himself out, went to his truck, and got in. He sat there behind the wheel for several minutes, then finally started the engine and backed out of the driveway.

Lorie came awake abruptly, her body trembling, her thoughts in utter chaos. The nightmare had seemed so real. A masked figure in a black cape had chased her through downtown Dunmore in broad daylight. She had been completely naked. Exposed. Ridiculed by the outraged citizens, led by the ladies from the WCM. And Mike had stood on the corner, his arms crossed over his chest, a condemning glare in his dark eyes, and done absolutely nothing to help her. She screamed, pleading with him to save her. The masked stalker had grown larger and larger until his form blocked out the sun, leaving her hovering in a shadowed corner, weeping, frightened, and waiting for death.

Allowing herself a few minutes to s.h.i.+ft from the horror of her nightmare to the safety of reality, Lorie sat up, tossed back the covers, and slid to the edge of the bed. She sat there, her bare feet on the floor, and considered the meaning of her dream. It made a weird kind of sense. The masked stalker was the unknown killer who posed a danger to her life. Mike's disregard for her was no mystery. And the utter fear that she had felt was perfectly normal, considering she was marked for death.

After getting out of bed and slipping into her house shoes, she found her robe at the foot of the bed and put it on. The bedside clock read 3:50 A.M A.M. The last time she had noted the time, it had been shortly after midnight.

She had cried herself to sleep.

If she were alone in the house, she'd go to the kitchen and make coffee. But she didn't want to wake Sh.e.l.ley.

Moonlight streamed in through the windows, casting a soft, creamy glow across the floor. She followed the moonlit path to the windows and looked outside at the front yard. Her heart caught in her throat when she saw the familiar truck parked in her driveway. Mike's Ford pickup. What was he doing there? Had he been there all night?

She didn't want him there, didn't want him standing guard over her house, over her. d.a.m.n him, why couldn't he just go away and leave her alone? She didn't need him. Didn't want him.

Liar!

Securing the tie belt of her robe around her waist, Lorie opened her bedroom door and tiptoed down the hall. Before she reached the living room, Sh.e.l.ley called to her.

"Lorie? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Just restless. Go back to sleep."

"If you're up, I'm up."

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to disturb you."

Wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and an oversized Georgia Bulldogs T-s.h.i.+rt, Sh.e.l.ley walked toward Lorie.

"Mike's outside," Lorie said.

"He's been there all night."

"I'm going out there to tell him to go home."

"I can do that for you."

"No. I want to talk to him."

Sh.e.l.ley nodded. "I'll disarm the alarm system and watch you until you reach his truck."

"Thanks."

For a few seconds, Mike thought he was hallucinating. He had been thinking about Lorie, remembering how it had once been between them, worrying about the danger she was now in, wis.h.i.+ng he could erase every bad thing that had ever happened to her. And now here she was walking down the sidewalk, coming straight toward his truck. As she approached, he debated whether to open the door and step outside to meet her or just wait for her.

He waited.

She pecked on the window. He rolled down the window and looked at her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her tone none too friendly.

"It's not even four o'clock yet." He answered her with a question. "What are you doing up at this time of the morning?"

"We need to talk."

"Do we?"

"Unlock the pa.s.senger-side door," she told him.

"Okay."

She rounded the truck's hood, opened the door, and climbed into the cab. Turning sideways, she faced him. He laid his arm across the back of the seat, his hand almost touching her shoulder.

"Sh.e.l.ley told me that you've been parked out here all night."

"She's right. I have."

"Why?"

"Why what?" he asked.

"I have a private bodyguard. I don't need you hovering over me."

"I'm not hovering. You were inside. I was outside. Plenty of distance between us. You're the one who knocked on my door and invaded my s.p.a.ce."

"Don't do this," she told him. "Don't blow hot and cold. It's not fair to me. It took me a long, long time to accept the fact that we could never be anything to each other ever again, not even friends. Your concern for me now is sending me mixed signals. I can't handle that."

"I'm sorry. It was never my intention to-"

"To feel sorry for me, to show me a little human kindness."

"To confuse you," he corrected.

"Well, I am confused. Not just about you, but about me, and about this whole d.a.m.n mess that my life has become."

Unable to stop himself, he moved his hand a couple of inches until he touched her shoulder. Apparently taken off guard, she jumped and then went rigid. Their gazes met there in the semidark interior of the truck cab, which was illuminated only by the moonlight.

"I don't want anything bad to happen to you," he said. "I keep hurting you even though I don't mean to...not anymore. I-I guess if I'm completely honest, I have to admit that I'm confused, too. I've hated you for such a long time. Now..."

"Now?"

"Now I don't know for sure, except I know I want to keep you safe. I want to protect you from the person who's threatened to kill you, from guys like Ryan Bonner, from the censor of every narrow-minded prude in Dunmore."

She sat there staring at him, her eyes wide with wonder, her mouth slightly parted. "You have a hero complex, you know that, don't you?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, I guess I do. I used to be your hero, didn't I?"

When he squeezed her shoulder, she scooted closer and reached up to lay her hand over his.

"Once upon a time..." Her voice trailed off to a whisper. "You were everything to me, my hero, my lover...my life."

"My mother told me that the reason I hated you so much was because a part of me still loved you," Mike admitted.

Lorie remained completely silent.

"I think Molly agreed with Mom."

"Oh, Mike."

"Molly knew I loved her, that I'd never betray her. We had a good life together. She gave me two fantastic kids. If she were still alive...I wish you could have known her. You two would have liked each other. It's my fault that you never got the chance to..." He swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, Lorie, sorry for so much."

She brought his hand to her lips, turned it palm side up, and kissed the center of his open hand. Her kiss burned like fire. He closed his eyes for a second and prayed for strength.

Easing his hand from her gentle grasp, he said, "No more mixed signals, no more confusion."

She looked at him with hope in her eyes. His next words erased that hope.

"A part of me does still care," he admitted. "And I'd be lying if I said that as a normal, red-blooded man, I didn't want you. But...we can't...I can't...I have to think about Hannah and M.J. and what's best for them. They have to come first."

"I understand."

"Do you?"

"My sordid past makes me unsuitable stepmother material."

"G.o.d, Lorie, I'm sorry."

"So am I."

She pulled away from him, opened the door, and jumped out of the truck. He sat there and watched her hurry up the sidewalk and back into her house.

"d.a.m.n, d.a.m.n!" He beat his clenched fists against the steering wheel.

Chapter 14.

After the unsettling night before, Lorie had decided not to open the shop until eleven, so she was still at home when the phone rang at ten fifteen that morning. She looked down at the portable phone on the kitchen counter and checked the caller ID. She didn't recognize the caller's name. Anthony Johnson.

Sh.e.l.ley glanced at her and then at the phone.

"Let the answering machine get it," Lorie said.

After the fourth ring, the answering machine clicked on, with Lorie's voice reciting her number and asking the caller to leave a message.

"Lorie, if you're there, please pick up," a female voice said. "It's Shontee, Shontee Thomas."