Chapter Two
I hate driving.
They’d been traveling for three days, breaking for meals and to sleep at night, in separate hotel rooms, of course. Mary was eager to get the journey over with, so she could unpack and settle in before classes started.
Tomorrow afternoon, they’d arrive in Boston. Right now, they were in the middle of Nowhere, Pennsylvania. They’d been on the turnpike for hours, and every mile looked like the last. At least in Texas, there had been interesting scenery.
They’d stopped at a buffet across the street from a hotel. While she appreciated Ten’s protection, he was getting on her nerves. He’d picked a table in the corner of the restaurant, with his back to the wall, and he surveyed the customers, eyeing everyone suspiciously.
They’d both ordered soup and salad for dinner, and the food was decent.
What’s the old quote? Hunger is the best sauce?
They’d gotten a sandwich for lunch, but she’d only finished half of it, so she’d made two trips to the salad bar.
“How’s your soup?” Mary asked.
“Fine.”
He was a man of few words, the very definition of the strong silent type. Sure, she and Jasper had joked about Ten’s creep factor, but his eccentricity intensified on a road trip.
They hadn’t said more than a few dozen words since the trip began, although it didn’t seem to bother him.
“So, how’s the winery?” Mary was desperate for conversation. She wished Jasper had come with her for the thousandth time. The two of them would’ve laughed and talked the entire time.
“Fine, I checked in with the employees yesterday.” In addition to his mystery employment, Ten owned the local winery and bistro in town, Poison Fruit.
“Oh, great.” All of their conversations were this stilted. “Ever been to Boston?”
“Yes, a long time ago.” Although, he didn’t elaborate further.
“And how was it?” she asked, prompting him for more details.
Ten thought about it a moment, and the awkward silence stretched between them.
“Cold.”
Excellent. Very informative.
And then he fixated on something or someone over her shoulder and his brow furrowed.
“Is anything wrong?”
“No.” Ten glanced at her, but he seemed distracted. “Why don’t you use the restroom? I’ll pay the bill and take care of a couple things.”
“What kind of things?”
Instead of answering her, he stood and walked across the room to gaze out the window.
Was somebody following them?
A chill rippled down her spine.
Mary was sick and tired of being stalked. And wished everyone would stop treating her like a child, and let her in on the big secret, whatever it was.
Since she didn’t have much choice in the matter, she went to the bathroom and washed her hands. There was a text from her grandfather, asking how she was. Mary had taught him how to text, although he still had difficulty using the “newfangled” smartphone she’d had given him for Christmas.
How are you doing?
Fine, we stopped for dinner. Mary texted back.
His reply took five years to come. I hope Ten’s looking out for you.
Yes, he’s kept an eye on me. Actually, his demeanor reminded her of the old book, 1984, and Ten was playing the part of Big Brother.
Glad to hear it, but I have to go. I have an appointment to keep. Call me tomorrow.
Will do. Love you.
Love you, too, honey.
When Mary left the bathroom, Ten was still pacing by the windows like a caged panther, so Mary wandered into the small gift shop near the register.
There were a lot of Pennsylvania-themed items like mugs, t-shirts, and postcards. And then she noticed a tall, thin man was staring at her. If he were twenty years younger, Mary would consider him attractive.
"Going on a trip?" he asked.
"Yes, I'm headin’ to Boston." Mary smiled politely and continued scanning the postcards.
"What's in Boston?"
"Harvard." Mary wasn't in the habit of talking to strangers, but it was refreshing to have an actual chat with someone.
"My, my, we have a scholar in our midst. What are you studying?"
"Medicine."
"An excellent field. I've heard there's a lot of job growth in the industry."
Mary had heard the same thing, especially with an aging population of baby boomers. According to the guidance counselor at her prep school, she was guaranteed a job, but it wasn't the reason she’d chosen medicine. Quite simply, Mary couldn't do anything else.
"So I’ve heard. What line of work are you in?" Mary asked.
"Law enforcement."
“Are you a police officer?”
“No, I work for the FBI.”
“Wow.”
Her granddad didn't have much respect for law enforcement. Over the years, she'd heard him make negative comments about the FBI when they were watching the news.
Mary loved a good police procedural show, and she was very polite to Crimson Creek’s police officers, even though they only had a couple.
"It pays the bills.” He shrugged. “I used to have a friend who worked in medicine."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yes, she was a nurse."
"Funny, my mother was a nurse, too." Mary had always wondered if her interest in medicine was genetic, or maybe she was trying to connect with her parents in other ways, like her love for carnivals and circuses.
"You don't say?"
"Yeah, she worked in the newborn intensive care unit, and I honestly don't know how she did it.”
The burnout rate was high in that field, from what she'd read. Mary knew her mother had probably witnessed a lot of infant deaths, which must’ve been devastating.
Mary had vague memories of her mother coming home at the end of her shift. She'd take off her sneakers and then collapsed into a chair. Sometimes she cried, and Mary would crawl onto her lap and give her hugs and kisses, trying to make her feel better.
"What was your friend’s specialty?” Mary asked.
"Oh, I don't remember now, but she loved her job."
Mary got the distinct impression that he wasn't being entirely forthright with her, although it was a casual conversation, so she didn't read too much into it. Nobody completely opened up to a perfect stranger.
“I’m glad, being fulfilled by your work is important.”
"Yeah, I loved hearin’ her talk about her day, and how she’d saved a life.” From the way he spoke about her, she must’ve been special to him.
"Hmph, I imagine you know all about being heroic. FBI agents must save people all the time."
"Not really.” He shrugged. “Most of the time, I get involved too late to rescue anyone. It’s more about punishin’ those who’ve earned it." The man winked conspiratorially.
"Are you certain she was just a friend?”
His eyes widened in shock, before he recovered. "Well, I wanted more, but she was already, er, involved with someone else.”
"The good ones are always taken." Or gay. According to her friends anyway. Mary didn’t have much time for dating or anything else besides school, come to think of it. She was lucky if she had time to eat, sleep, and do her homework.
“Yes, that’s pretty much how it works.”
"So, do you miss her?" Mary tilted her head to one side, studying him intently. "It's never too late to start something, you know."
"It is for me.” His smile was melancholy. “She’s gone."
Gone? “She died?”
But the man didn't answer because his cell phone rang.
"Sorry, but I’d better answer this.” He offered her a hand, and she shook it. “It was a genuine pleasure meetin’ you, Mary."
A hundred miles down the road, Mary realized she hadn't told him her name.
***
“Thanks for helpin’.”
“No problem.”
After they finished unloading, Mary ordered a pizza for her and Ten, which they’d devoured. Now, they sat in her living room, unpacking. She decided to do the basics tonight and then tackle the rest of the project early tomorrow morning. Right now, Mary was searching for her pajamas and her sheets.
The place had come furnished, and Mary was relieved she didn’t have to go to the store. Although, the décor was bland. There were ivory walls and gray carpet in every room, but it came with all the basics like a bed, a nightstand, a couch, a table, and such.
Ten scrutinized everyone who stopped by the door, which she’d propped open to air the place out. Her apartment had been painted a couple of days ago, and the smell was still strong.
Ten kept stabbing boxes, slitting the tape apart in one smooth motion and she found it unsettling.
Clearly, he’s had a lot of practice slashing things open. Like people?!
Don’t even go there, Mary. You’ll just freak yourself out.
“Why’d you choose Harvard?” he asked.
Mary blinked. Wow, he actually started a conversation.
“Because it’s the best.”
“Yes, but it’s like the Arctic Circle here.” He hadn’t even taken off his coat yet.
Over the past four years, she’d adapted. Her freshman year had been the worst, but since then, she’d built up quite a winter wardrobe. There’s something to be said for hot coffee and sweater weather.
There was a knock on the door.
Immediately, Ten stood, hand hovering at his side. His gun was holstered beneath the jacket.
A handsome young man stood in the doorway. He had light brown hair and brown eyes, with a muscular build.
“Hey, I’m Tommy, nice to meet you and welcome to the neighborhood.”
Mary put herself between the young man and Ten.
“Thanks.” She shook his hand. “I’m Mary.”
“We’re having a moving in party down the hall if you want to stop by.”
Ten evidently didn’t consider him a threat, because he sat once more and speared another box.
“Thanks for the invitation.”
Although, Mary didn’t feel much like partying. She wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for the next thirty-six hours.
“No problem.” Tommy nodded to Ten. “Bring your, er, brother, if you want.”
“Ain’t one of her relations.” This time, he held the man’s gaze, as he stabbed a box.
His eyes widened. “Uh, yeah, cool.” He hooked a thumb up the hallway. “Well, I should be going, see you later.” And then Tommy dashed away.
“Could you be a little less serial killer-ish, with that thing?”
“No. Besides, you don’t want him, anyway if he’s afraid of a little bitty pig sticker.” Ten held up the knife like a trophy.
“Whoa, I never said I had any interest in him.”
Although, it would be nice if her brand new neighbors didn’t think she was a freak, but Mary supposed it was already too late. So, she set to work on the boxes, until she found her bedding and pajamas.
With a yawn, Mary stood. “I think I’m gonna head to bed. It’s late, and we’ve had a long couple of days.”
“Sleep well.” Ten glanced at his phone. “I’ll check in with the security firm tomorrow morning. They’re supposed to send over the guard the day after next.”
Mary nodded. “Works for me.”
“Since I don’t have a spare bedroom, you’ll have to sleep on the couch.” Mary couldn’t wait for him to head back to Texas. Although, she wasn’t exactly excited about her brand-new security detail. If she had a social life, Mary thought it would put a big dent in it, but since she planned on studying and keeping boys on the sidelines, it wasn’t an issue.
Ten shrugged. “I’ve slept on worse.”
“Like what?”
“A concrete basement floor.”
Wait. What?
She was surprised he’d answered the question in the first place, although the response was odd, too.
“Why were you sleeping on concrete?”
“Because I was tired.” Unlike her grandfather, his expression wasn’t playful or angry. He seemed perplexed by her inquiry as if the reply should be obvious.
“No, I mean…” Mary trailed off.
“What?”
“Never mind.” She supposed it didn’t matter anyway.
“Make sure your windows are locked down before you go to sleep.”
“Will do.”