The Drake House by Kelly Moran

Author:Kelly Moran [Moran, Kelly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary, paranormal, Suspense
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2012-09-29T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

By the time mid-September came around, Nick felt like he’d finally settled into Small Rapids enough to fit in comfortably. On the occasion he went into the local bar for a beer, the men would shoot the breeze, relaying tall-tales about fishing and hunting. He’d been accepted by the families as one of their own.

Wayne Radcliff was making plans to retire after Christmas, and for Nick to officially take his place as sheriff—which suited him just fine. Small Rapids turned back into the sleepy little town he envisioned before moving. There had been no more threatening calls. Or murders. Though he kept in touch with Detective Lafferty in Madison, Andrew McArthur’s murder had been moved to the cold file. It still didn’t sit right with him, but the edgy feeling something was wrong abated.

He’d seen Trisha only a handful of times since that day in her shed, as she avoided him like the plague. The Fourth of July summer barbeque on her orchard wound up being the turning point. She nearly plowed him over exiting the house holding a pan of corn on the cob, obviously not having seen him standing there. After muttering an “excuse me,” she high-tailed her attractive rear end to the other side of the orchard. And stayed there.

Just like the day he met her all those months ago, it still felt like a punch in the gut whenever he saw her. He’d gone over there that day in May to the shed to do something really stupid, but unknowingly, she ended things and saved them both the heartache of a dead-end relationship. The relief didn’t come as he thought it would. And it had nothing to do with her inability to have kids, nor her nightmares.

He wasn’t any good for her. Broken, there was no fixing him. No matter how much he started dreaming of the possibility. Since her absence from his life, everything returned to the way it was after the shooting. The only thing he’d been able to smell since then was her. Those peaches. He’d averaged a couple hours of sleep a night. Eventually, he moved to the overnight on-call and only checked in at the station midday.

He drove by her house every night. Sometimes he’d sit in his car at the end of the driveway and just watch the house. There was no reason for it, but his car, just like his heart, wound up back with her.

Nick sat down on a stool in Joe’s Tavern and sipped his beer, waiting for Brad to show, wondering why Brad had called and asked to meet him. Moments later, the man in question walked in and, after nodding at a few of the patrons, pulled up a stool next to him.

Brad waited until Joe, the owner and bartender, had poured him a beer and walked to the other end of the bar. “Her nightmares are worsening.”

Nick’s hand tightened on his mug. “This is new?”

Brad’s gaze leveled on his. “Yes. They’re awful in spring, lasting sometimes in summer, but never this long.

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