Secrets And Lies

She shivered, rubbing her arms against the chill that just wouldn’t seem to leave her.

“You holding up okay?” someone asked.

She turned and found herself looking into Tristan McKeller’s dark brown eyes.

“I was just thinking about you,” she said, the words escaping before she realized how they’d sound. “What I mean—”

“Is that you were wondering if I’d found the gunman?” he offered, and she nodded.

“Yes. And if you were okay. Apparently, you are.”

“I am, but the gunman is still on the loose. We’ve got a couple of K-9 teams trying to track him. Hopefully, we’ll have him in custody soon. You said he was wearing some sort of mask?”

“It seemed like it. I only got a glimpse as he was coming out of my room.”

“Were you heading there when you noticed him?”

“I was on my way back from the Xerox machine. I’d heard a door slamming shut, and I thought it was you.” She spoke quickly, filling him in on the details and doing everything in her power to not allow emotion to seep into her voice. Breaking down in front of people wasn’t something she liked to do. Even when Mitch had screamed at her, telling her that the baby she was carrying would ruin his life, she hadn’t cried.

She finished and Tristan nodded. “Matches with what I saw. There’s a bullet slug in the corner of the wall and one through the door into the room where you were hiding. If you’d been standing in front of the door—”

“I made sure that I wasn’t.” She cut him off. She didn’t want to speculate, she didn’t want to imagine. She’d been spared. Her baby had been spared.

God looking out for them?

She wanted to believe that.

She’d been trying hard to believe that everything that had happened—all the difficulty and trouble—would turn out for the good. There were days, though, when she questioned His goodness, wondered if He’d decided to turn His face away from her.

“Smart thinking, Ariel. It saved your life.” His gaze dropped to her stomach, to the baby bump that pulled her silky summer top taut over her abdomen. “And your baby’s. I guess you decided against the ambulance ride?”

“I’ll get stitches at the clinic.” Maybe. Or maybe she’d use a couple of butterfly bandages and hope for the best. The last thing she wanted was to walk out of the local medical clinic alone after dark, and there was no way she was going to ask Principal Moore to go with her. Not when the gunman was still on the loose. What if he came after Ariel again? What if someone else was in the line of fire?

The thought made her stomach churn.

“You’re new to town,” Tristan said, the comment taking her by surprise.

“I’ve been here for a few months, and I lived here when I was a kid,” she corrected, not quite sure where he was going with the conversation.

“You were in Las Vegas prior to your move?”

“Yes.”

“And your husband—”

“He was my ex, and he died a few weeks before I accepted the job offer here.”

His expression softened, as if he realized there was a lot more to her story than anyone in town knew. “Had you been divorced long?”

“I’m not sure what that has to do with anything.”

“Most violent crimes aren’t committed by strangers. Most involve people who know each other. Is there a new relationship? A boyfriend? Ex-boyfriend? Someone who might be holding grudge?”

“Do I look like I have time for another relationship?” she asked with a laugh that she knew sounded bitter and hard.

She swallowed down the emotion, tried again. “There’s no one else. My ex-husband died three weeks after our divorce was finalized.”

“Can I ask the cause of death?”

“A car accident. He drove off a hillside and crashed into a tree. The car burst into flames on impact.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me, too. He wasn’t a very nice guy, but no one deserves that.”

He studied her for a moment, his eyes such a dark brown the irises were nearly invisible. They reminded her of Mia’s, the lashes black and thick. Mia, though, always looked sullen. Tristan looked concerned.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, and she tensed, not comfortable with the pity she saw in his eyes.

She didn’t need anyone to feel sorry for her. She just needed to move on with her life, make a safe home for her baby and create something out of the nothing she’d been left with when Mitch had told her they were done.

“Like I said, so am I, but there’s nothing I can do to change it. All I can do is make a good life for our child.” My child was what she’d wanted to say, but Mitch would always be part of their little girl’s life, the shadowy parent who existed as nothing more than a name, a photograph, a hole in the heart.

“It’s still tough, Ariel. There isn’t a woman on the planet who doesn’t deserve better than what you got. It’s getting late, and you need to get those stitches. How about I follow you over to the clinic? Jesse and I can escort you in and then follow you home when you’re done.” He touched his dog’s head, and the yellow lab seemed to smile, its tongue lolling out.

“I—”

“You know it’s the safest thing, right? Until we find out who this guy is and why he took a shot at you, you need to be cautious.”

She knew. She didn’t like it, but she knew.

“All right,” she conceded. “But I’d rather just go home. A couple of butterfly bandages will take care of this.”

* * *

Tristan didn’t agree with the butterfly bandage idea, but he wasn’t going to argue. Ariel knew what she wanted and after being married to a not very nice guy, she probably didn’t need anyone telling her what decisions to make.

“That’s fine. I’ll walk you into the school. You can get your things and then we’ll head out.”

“You aren’t needed here?” she asked as they headed across the parking lot.

“I was off duty when I arrived. The chief assigned the case to someone else.”

“It’s probably for the best,” she said, brushing a few strands of hair from her cheek, the bandage on her hand crisp white in the fading light.

“Why do you say that?” He led her through the front door and into a wide lobby. Posters hung from walls, announcing clubs that would be meeting again in the fall.

“Mia,” she responded. That was it. No other explanation.