“This has happened before, as I remember.”
“Yes, it has. But as I remember, I was the one who fell asleep. Now we’re even.”
He put on his coat and kissed her good night. Maybe the time would come when he could kiss her good morning and make her breakfast in bed. He’d have to do it right—one didn’t just shack up with a woman like Maggie. But what was he thinking? It would be a long time before he was in a position to marry any woman, let alone the classy mayor of Branding Iron.
At this hour, on a Sunday night, the streets were all but deserted. But as he pulled away from the curb, he noticed a vehicle partway down the block, leaving the curb at the same time. The strange thing was that, in the dead of night, the headlights weren’t on.
As a patrolman, his first response would have been to warn the driver. But as an ex-con, he’d lived in the shadows long enough to know better. All his prickling instincts told him he was being tailed.
Just to make sure, he drove around the block. The vehicle, which appeared to be a dark, older-model sedan, followed a half block behind him.
Nerves quivering, he turned down Main Street, hoping the street lights would give him a look at the driver. But the sedan hung back, widening the distance. All Travis could make out was a single driver with a face hidden by the lowered visor.
What did the bastard want? If he was looking for a confrontation, he was taking his time. Was the driver someone who knew him, maybe an enemy from prison? Was he armed?
Travis had never thought to ask if Conner carried a gun in his Jeep. Steering with his left hand, he opened the glove box and felt inside. Nothing. And nothing under the driver’s seat.
By now he was headed out of town. He passed the Shop Mart, then Hank’s Hardware, dark now except for the security lights mounted below the roof of the store. Another half mile and the car was still behind him. He thought about making a run for it on the highway. But the rugged Jeep wasn’t built for speed, and the sedan could easily have a souped-up engine.
Should he cut across the fields, where the low-slung sedan would probably get stuck? He was weighing that option, looking for a gap in the roadside fence, when he realized that the sedan was no longer following him. Slowing the Jeep, he made a U-turn on the empty highway and switched the headlights on high beam. As he moved back toward town, a pair of red taillights vanished into the dark. There was no other vehicle in sight. The sedan was gone. It was almost as if he’d imagined seeing it.
He was about to shrug off the incident and drive on home when a new thought struck him. His heart slammed.
Maggie!
What if the mysterious driver had tailed him to make sure he was headed out of town, so he could go after Maggie?
Pulse galloping, he pulled off the road, yanked his phone out of his pocket, and called her number.
* * *
Maggie was getting ready for bed when her cell phone rang. When she saw Travis’s name on the caller ID, her first thought was that he’d been in another late-night accident. Heart pounding, she took the call. “Are you all right?” she asked.
“Yes. Listen to me,” he said. “If your doors and windows aren’t locked, do it now. If the doorbell rings, don’t answer it. I think you might be in danger.”
“Everything’s locked now. But what are you talking about, Travis? This is Branding Iron, for heaven’s sake.”
“Listen to me. When I left your place, a car followed me with its lights off. After I got to the highway, it was gone. I think whoever it was might have been waiting to catch you alone. I’m coming back. Stay put, and I’ll be right there.”
“No, wait—it’s all right. I know who it is, and he’s harmless.” There was only one person who would be waiting outside her house in a car. Stanley Featherstone was beginning to give her the creeps, but Maggie couldn’t imagine he would actually harm her.
“Who is it, Maggie? I need to have words with him.”
She thought fast. The last thing she wanted was a showdown between Travis and the constable. “It’s nobody you know,” she lied. “Just an overprotective neighbor. I’ll be fine, Travis. Now go
home and get some sleep.”
He hesitated. “You’re sure?”
“Yes. The sheriff lives two blocks from me. If there’s any trouble, all I have to do is call him. Now stop worrying and go on home. I’ll see you soon.”
“If you’re sure. Sleep tight. Call if you need me. I love you.”
Maggie laid her phone on the nightstand. She had been about to undress and get ready for bed when the call came. Now she was too agitated to sleep. Stanley had crossed one line too many. Tomorrow at work, she would give him a good dressing down and threaten to have him arrested for stalking if he didn’t stop spying on her. Knowing Stanley, he would whine and play the victim. But she wouldn’t buy his act. She would let him know she meant business.
Right now, if she didn’t get some sleep, she’d be a wreck in the morning. Her nerves were jangling like the strings of a badly tuned banjo. Maybe a mug of warm milk and a few minutes of late-night talk show would help her unwind.
She had just taken the mug out of the microwave and settled herself in front of the TV when she heard the fire siren.