Every Little Thing by Linda Winstead Jones

Author:Linda Winstead Jones [Jones, Linda Winstead]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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Chapter 9

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Lucy pressed her face into the pillow, shutting out the light and the voice that hammered at her, calling her name. A warm hand settled on her back and shook her slightly. That touch was familiar, and she smiled into the pillow, a secret, unexpected smile. She rolled away from the cool comfort of the pillow, her eyes drifting open. John sat on the edge of the bed, fully dressed.

"Come on, Lucy," he said softly. "Wake up."

She pushed the hair away from her face and rolled into a sitting position, blinking away the dream that was still with her—a dream about John. "I know I said not to let me sleep too late, but I didn't mean…" Her words trailed away to nothing as she noted the frown on John's face, the tense set of his jaw. "What's wrong?"

He took her hand and ran his fingers over her palm. "Sheriff Maples is here. He wants to talk to you."

She came instantly awake. Maybe Maples had finally caught the Ripper. If that was true, this would all be over and she'd be free once again. The thought chilled her.

For John's sake, she hoped that was the reason for the sheriff's visit. "I don't have any clothes in here." And she didn't particularly want to run down the hall naked, either—not with Maples just a few steps from the hallway entrance.

John had already thought of that. He tossed her a pair of jeans, a red T-shirt and the appropriate underwear. It looked to have been hastily gathered from the chest of drawers in her room.

"What does he want?" she asked as she slipped off the bed and dressed quickly.

John shook his head. "He won't tell me, but whatever it is, it isn't good news."

Then they hadn't caught the creep, after all. "Why do you say that?"

John watched her closely as she dressed, but she didn't feel shy or embarrassed. Not after last night. "He's madder than a hornet."

Lucy raised her eyebrows. Sheriff Maples had appeared to be madder than a hornet on several occasions, as if it were a semipermanent condition. John was probably accustomed to the sheriff's moods, so if he took note of the sheriff's anger this morning, it must be bad.

As she finished dressing, John stood and placed his hands on her shoulders. Those steady hands were gentle and bracing, and for a split second Lucy thought, Together we can withstand anything. It was a fanciful, fleeting thought.

"Whatever it is," he said softly, "it'll be all right." She could see the promise in his eyes, feel assurance in the firm touch of his hands. Whatever was wrong, he would make it right. At least, he would try. He kept a hand at her spine as he walked with her into the living room, where Sheriff Maples wasted no time in getting right to the point.

"We can't provide twenty-four-hour protection for you anymore, Miss Fain," he said sharply.

"What?" John brushed past her to confront the sheriff. "She

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