Stranger in a Small Town

Sad, she thought, the strange thought floating through her mind. He had sad eyes.

It took her a moment to realize who he was. She didn’t recognize his face. In fact, she was certain she’d never seen him before. Then the shape of his body sank in, and it hit her that she had seen him before. Last night.

It was John Samuels.

The realization sent another jolt of surprise through her. He wasn’t anything like she’d imagined. And she had imagined, during the long stretches of the night when enough time had passed that she’d let down her guard slightly and her thoughts had wandered. She’d pictured someone dark, no doubt influenced by the way she’d first met him, when he’d been nothing more than a shadow. This man wasn’t dark, but despite the fairness of his hair and skin, she couldn’t quite describe him as light, either. She wasn’t sure how to describe him at all.

“Morning,” he said, the low rumble of his voice offering additional confirmation.

“Morning,” she echoed faintly.

“Everything okay?”

She nodded tersely. “Fine.”

He’d come to a stop just behind Dalton, who scowled up at him. She half wondered whether the newcomer’s presence alone or the fact that he was significantly taller than the older man was the cause of his irritation. “Who are you?”

The demand in Dalton’s tone brought her annoyance back with a vengeance. She could tell John didn’t much care for it, either. Eyes narrowing, he hesitated a beat before opening his mouth to answer. That split second was all it took for the impulse to take hold within her. Without even thinking about it, she answered before he could.

“This is my new employee.”

Two sets of eyes shot to her, one startled, one appraising. She stared back at the latter, ignoring Dalton. There was no hint of what he thought of her statement, no surprise or relief or happiness. Whatever he was feeling, he was keeping it to himself.

Uncertain how she felt about that, she turned to Dalton. The older man was glaring at John, his face bright red. She didn’t know if it was from anger or frustration at being foiled. She didn’t really care. Either way, she liked it and had to do her best not to smirk.

“Dalton,” she said, clearly startling him. He jerked his head toward her. She fought a smile. “You’ll have to excuse us. We have a lot of work to get to. Thanks for stopping by, though. It’s nice to know you’re looking out for me.”

She couldn’t entirely keep the sarcasm from her sickly-sweet tone. From the look he shot her, he hadn’t missed it. With a sharp nod, he turned from her, ignoring John, and stomped his way back to his car. She and John watched in silence as he backed out of the driveway and pulled into the street.

Once there, his car paused briefly just behind John’s truck. No doubt Dalton was taking note of the license plate. She wouldn’t be surprised if he was planning on checking up on her new employee at the first opportunity.

“Does that mean I’ve got the job?”

The sound of his voice pulled her attention back to his face—and the decision she’d made so rashly. She had to admit that it had largely been spurred by the desire to stick it to Dalton. So much for his claim that she wouldn’t be able to find anyone to work on the house. The impotent rage on his face had made it worth it.

Of course, now that he was gone and the moment had passed, she had to face the consequences. She knew nothing about this man beyond the vague suspicion he wasn’t being entirely truthful with her. He could be dangerous. He could be a killer. And she would be alone with him for hours on end if she gave him the job. Most days passed without her seeing a single soul.

But rescinding the offer would only make her look like a fool, and give Dalton a satisfaction she in no way wanted to grant him.

“On a trial basis,” she said quickly, watching his expression. “That okay with you?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t have a problem with proving myself.”

It was the right answer. She liked people who were willing to let their work speak for itself.

Besides, she’d bet anything Dalton was planning on running a background check on her new employee, saving her the trouble of doing it herself. He had enough connections to get it done, certainly more than she had at her disposal. If he found anything shady in the man’s past, she had no doubt he’d be back to rub her nose in it as soon as he could.

Of course that wouldn’t do her much good if the truck was stolen, or she was already murdered and her new employee ran off to parts unknown by the time the background check came back. But even as she thought it, she found herself dismissing the idea. She had the feeling she was the last person who should be judging anyone’s character, but there was just something about him that made her think he wasn’t a bad guy. He didn’t seem dangerous or creepy or dishonest. He seemed—

Sad, she thought again. He seemed sad.

She felt an uncomfortable pang of recognition in her chest. She watched him tilt his head back and scan the house, those deep blue eyes sweeping over the exterior. The emotion wasn’t just in those eyes. It seemed to cling to him like an aura, something weighing heavily on him. And as someone who still had her share of sad days, she could relate.

She did her best to shake off the wave of empathy, definitely not wanting to go there. Whatever was haunting this man wasn’t her concern. All that mattered was that he was the right man for the job.

She watched him scrutinize the house. If he wondered why it was in such bad shape, he didn’t show it. Suddenly it occurred to her that he probably didn’t know the house’s history. She didn’t doubt that the first person he met in town would waste no time enlightening him. It would be better if she told him herself up front. Despite his claim that he didn’t scare easily, she might as well find out for herself. Her big show in front of Dalton would ring awfully hollow if her new employee changed his mind in short order.

“Come on,” she said with a jerk of her head. “Let me show you the house. Then you can let me know if you still want the job.”

THIS was it.

His insides clenching, Sam watched his new boss head up the steps and took a deep breath before doing the same. Her words and the ominous note in her voice might have given another man pause, making him wonder exactly what it was she was about to reveal that might make him second-guess working for her. Not him. He already knew everything he suspected she was about to tell him. Despite her words, he already knew he wanted the job.

No, it was the very act of setting foot in this house again that made him hesitate. This was all happening too fast, before he was ready. He didn’t normally act so quickly and without thinking things through first, having long ago learned the cost of impulsive choices. But it felt like he’d jumped on board a moving train and was being carried away much faster than he’d anticipated or was comfortable with. He’d made the decision to come here on the spur of the moment, getting into the truck and just driving. Then he’d seen that flyer, then he’d come here, then he’d been hired, and now he was about to walk into a house he’d never wanted to see again. It was too fast. He’d barely had time to absorb what was happening.

“You coming?”

He jerked his head to see the woman standing just inside the doorway, a curious and none-too-reassuring expression on her face. The corners of her mouth were turned down as she stared at him. He had the feeling he was blowing this. She looked distinctly wary.

She. That’s how fast this was happening. He’d been hired by this woman and he didn’t even know her name.

“Sure,” he said. “I was just wondering what the polite way was to ask for your name.”

She blinked at him, her caution fading into embarrassment. “Oh,” she said, “I guess that would be a good place to start, wouldn’t it?”

“I could just go with ‘Hey, you.’”

A faint smile flickered across her lips. “That won’t be necessary. It’s Maggie. Maggie Harper.”

It was a nice smile—and a fleeting one. Within seconds, it had faded, her mouth forming a thin line.

For the first time, he looked at her, really looked at her. She was an attractive woman, probably in her early to mid-thirties. Her dark blond hair was pulled up in a no-nonsense knot at the back of her head, a few loose wisps hanging around her face. Like him, she was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, the clothes fairly worn, the wardrobe of somebody ready to work. Her body had a kind of ropy leanness, the kind earned from activity and labor, and he knew without question that this was a woman who knew how to work and get a job done.

He only hoped she didn’t get in the way of the job he had to do.

“Good to meet you, Maggie.”

She nodded tightly and turned her back to him, stepping inside. Drawing in one last breath, Sam forced his legs to climb the steps and follow her into the house.

The first thing that struck him was the stillness. Other than the motion and sounds caused by Maggie herself, nothing moved, and the silence was absolute. The entryway opened into a room on either side, both of them almost completely unfurnished. There was a sleeping bag rolled up in the room on the right. Otherwise it was empty. He could see a basic attempt had been made to clean up a little, but it was very much a house where work was in progress. Sunlight poured through the windows, revealing a multitude of dust particles hanging in the air.

In front of him was a steep staircase leading up to the second level. And beside it, a hallway leading back to where the kitchen was. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t see that room from where he stood. He knew it was there, as a sudden tension gripped him, holding him in place just inside the doorway, unable to do anything but stare in that direction.

His heart began to pound, slamming against his chest wall like it was demanding to get out. The noise rattled through him, filling his ears with the heavy beat. Except he thought he heard something else over it, something distant emerging from the echoing silence of the house to fill his head.

Screaming. Someone was screaming.

Frantic cries. Desperate pleading. Sounds of raw, gut-wrenching agony.