(Last Chance Heroes, #4) Lucky's Woman by Linda Winstead Jones

Author:Linda Winstead Jones [Jones, Linda Winstead]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Suspense
Publisher: Silhouette Intimate Moments
Published: 2010-04-19T05:00:00+00:00

He needed to get closer. Not into the house; not yet. It was too soon for him to visit and to touch. But he wanted to get close enough to hear their voices, to smell them. Watching from such a distance was no longer satisfying in any but the smallest way.

Creeping through the woods, he made his way toward the house he’d been watching for over a week. It was broad daylight, but even if anyone saw him they wouldn’t think him out of place. He was a common sight in and around Mercerville these days, and if anyone questioned him he’d have a believable story to tell. He always did.

Without making a sound, he made his way to the house until he could touch the exterior wall. She was still in there; he was gone. What would she say if he went to the door and knocked? She’d invite him inside, of course. She’d offer him iced tea and maybe cookies.

But it was too soon for that. He made his way to the back of the house and the small, low door there. It opened slowly and soundlessly, and he slipped into the crawl space and closed the door behind him.

He turned on a small flashlight and oriented himself to the space. It was adequate. More than adequate, in fact.

He had to stoop down to walk in the crawl space, and the floor was packed dirt and cold stone. A few old tools that looked as if they hadn’t been used in years were stored here. A rusty hacksaw. A square-head shovel, also rusty. The better tools were stored in a fairly new shed in the backyard.

The backpack he wore contained everything he’d need. A blanket, to carpet the ground. A dim flashlight. Water. Granola bars, in case he got hungry. He took a moment to prepare the space, and then he lay down upon the blanket and turned off his flashlight.

The house was old, and in some spaces light from the house shone down, slanting between old, loose floorboards. He’d have to be very, very quiet, so no one would ever know he was here. He closed his eyes and listened. Her footsteps sounded soft above him. A radio played in the background. Country music. He liked country music.

Sometimes she hummed along with the music, if the song was familiar. She was cleaning, he guessed after a few moments of listening. She moved from room to room, and he heard the swish of a broom and the quick spray of cleaner or furniture polish. He liked that, that she kept her house so clean. She was a caring woman, a good woman.

The phone rang, jarring him so that his eyes flew open. She answered. “Hello?”

He listened to the one-sided conversation, and it didn’t take him long to realize that he was calling.

“I could use a gallon of milk and some diet soda, if you don’t mind.”

All was quiet for a moment, but for the country music in the background, and then she laughed.

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