Teaching Ms. Riggs. Stephanie Beck
splurging. She hefted the two bags and wished she’d driven her car.
With a sigh she headed for the door. Her apartment was only six blocks away. She could walk, and it would probably do her a lot of good. It wasn’t like she was in a hurry anyway, so the walk would be fine.
“Ah damn, you aren’t walking home, are you?” Mark appeared out of nowhere and plucked one of her bags from her arms. Her heart raced at the suddenness of his appearance, but she swallowed back the immediate fear. She had to remember she wasn’t in Chicago anymore.
She cleared her throat and followed him after he put her bag in his cart. “Yes, I’m walking home. It’s only a few blocks away. The Matterhast Apartments.”
“Come on, I’ll give you a ride. It’s on my way, and your ice cream will melt for sure if you walk in this heat.” He motioned her to a dirty, eighties-style rust bucket that most likely had been a truck at one time.
She pasted on a smile as she followed him. Being told what to do was one of her least favorite things lately. She counseled herself to be patient with the well-intentioned man. Watching the way Mark’s hips moved as he walked went a long way in soothing her irritation.
“You don’t have to, Mark. I appreciate the offer but–”
“How long were you in Chicago?” he broke in without turning back to face her.
“Ah, almost a decade.”
“Then you were gone long enough to forget how we do things in small towns. Let me refresh your memory. When someone needs a ride and another person has a vehicle, we share a ride. If someone needs a hose and their neighbor isn’t using theirs, it’s lent so they don’t have to drive thirty miles to Wal-Mart.”
He tossed bags into the truck’s bed as he spoke. Resigned, Ben stepped closer and helped him load his groceries into the bins in the back.
When he looked over and grinned, her annoyance slipped away without her permission. He winked again. “It’ll come back to you, I’m sure.”
She laughed and settled the last bag in the bin.
“Smartass,” she muttered. “Okay, you might be right about me still being in the Chicago mindset. Thank you for the offer and for the ride. I appreciate it.”
“There you go, sweetheart, it’s coming back fast.” He was teasing again like he had at the school, and she liked it. Browsing through the bags he looked up when he found her ice cream. “I’ve got a cooler back here. Want me to toss this in? The cab’s gonna be hotter than hell and the AC is broken.”
Tongue in cheek she gave an over-exaggerated sigh. “Of course it is. A broken AC and a hot running truck are prerequisites for any farm vehicle. Thanks for thinking of my ice cream.”
She took her remaining bags and jumped into the truck while he corralled the cart. She coughed when the seat let loose a poof of gravel dust. Mark hopped in and the dust flew again.
“Sorry about that,” he said with a light blush. “I would have brought the car if I thought anyone else would be riding with me. You can open your window if you want. The crank only sticks at first.”
She turned the sticky manual lever as he started the truck. Belying the rust and age, the engine fired up with no hesitation. Thankfully, he had the truck moving in only a few seconds. The interior was so hot and stagnant that it took a block before fresh air circulated.
Ben said a small prayer of thankfulness for the tiny but ferocious window air conditioner that kept her apartment cool. She’d forgotten the power of a Missouri heat wave. Usually by September Chicago was cooling down, but Missouri had weeks left until even the nights became bearable.
The air conditioner at her apartment worked perfectly though, so she already pictured her night. The hum of the truck engine soothed her closer to the sleep her exhausted body craved. She could crank the air full blast, spread her paperwork on her bed and have a bowl of ice cream.
“I bet you’re wrecked after a long day with all those kids.” Mark’s comment broke her out of her blessedly cool fantasy.
“Oh, yeah. It was actually my first day ever teaching. I had all the credits and practice semesters, but I’ve never had my own classroom,” she replied.
“Really? What were you doing with all that education then if you weren’t teaching?”
Not a damn thing, she thought bitterly. All the time she’d wasted could have been time spent helping kids, but that wasn’t an answer she wanted to give to Mark. “I was getting my Masters degree and considering med school. I got the degree, but decided teaching was the better choice for me.”
He nodded and turned at an intersection. “Yeah? That’s great. And it works out well for the school too. I always like when they hire hometown people. It’s good for the kids to see someone who’s been in their shoes make something of themselves, and then come back and share their gifts.”
Ben nodded at his thoughtful words. It was something she’d been told a few times by school board members and fellow staff, and it had made the transition sweeter. No one she’d spoke with regretted coming home, and she didn’t think she would either.
“I’m glad to be back.”
When Mark took a second at a stop sign to turn and smile at her she smiled back. He went back to driving, and she missed the joy his expression had shared but they were nearly to her place. It was probably best she didn’t get addicted to his presence.
“I’m on the north side of the building.”
The car driving in front of them turned onto a side road. Nothing about the vehicle stood out, but when the driver was in sight for a split second Ben gasped.
“Whoa, all right there, Ben?”
She wasn’t all right. If the driver was who she suspected, Ben was a long way from okay.
“Um, I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? Did you know someone in that car? I think she waved,” Mark said, and Ben fought the urge to jump out of the truck and run to the safety of her apartment.
“No, I didn’t know her.” Ben looked between the windshield and rearview mirror as Mark pulled the truck to the curb. She didn’t know if the car would return or not, but if it did she had to be ready to run.
“I can try to catch her if you want,” Mark offered.
Her stomach turned at his words. “No, God, no. Why would you do that?” She grabbed her grocery bags in one hand and jumped out of the truck before she said something more. “Thanks for the ride.”
“Hey, no problem,” he called. “Is everything okay, Ben?”
She waved but didn’t look back as she made a beeline for the building. She had to get inside.
The renovated Victorian house had homie touches like the front porch and shared hallways Ben liked aesthetically, and for safety sake, they provided an openness that made it difficult for intruders to hide. Ideally she would have moved into a second or third floor apartment, but only the lower front had been available. After she’d found out her husband hadn’t been killed randomly, those things had become important.
He’d been murdered by a woman he’d been seeing for over a year. Ben had never met her, had never known about her, until the police had shown her pictures. When she’d begun to get frightening messages in Chicago, she’d known it was time to go home.
Ben vaulted up the porch stairs and closed the main door behind her, telling herself she was overreacting. She walked to her door and blew out a relived breath when she found it locked as she’d left it. The police in Chicago had told her not to worry, and she tried to follow their advice. That didn’t stop her from triple locking her door.
Chapter 4
The calls started at dusk.