A Silent Terror & A Silent Fury. Lynette Eason
She couldn’t resist. “Okay.” Catching her father’s attention, she signed that she was going with Ethan and would be home later. He frowned but nodded.
Ethan took her hand and led her to his car.
That’s when she noticed the silver car parked four spots down. Earlier, when it had turned in behind her and her sister, she’d tried to get a look at the driver, but it had gone on past them and around the side of the building. She’d given up trying to figure out if someone was following her and if the occupants of the car had been members of the church arriving at the same time as she.
Seeing the car still parked there, and her sister long gone, along with her parents, she decided she was definitely being paranoid—not that she didn’t have good reason to be, but obviously the silver car belonged to a member of the congregation. Relief replaced her momentary anxiety.
Ethan tapped her shoulder to get her attention. “So, what are you in the mood for?” His touch lingered, causing her stomach to do a series of flip-flops.
Pushing her attraction aside for now, she thought. “Something…relaxing.”
“Huh?”
“You know, relaxing food. Fruit, ice cream, soup.”
“I never knew food could be relaxing.”
Marianna reached up and took his hand in hers, feeling the calluses of a man used to hard work, yet one who used his hands for gentle comport, too. Somehow, Marianna knew Ethan would never raise a fist against her—ever.
“Well, you’re about to learn something new. How about we go to Panera?”
“The one on East Main?”
She laughed. “Yes, since it’s the only one in Spartanburg.”
“Right.” He pulled his hand from her grasp and cranked the car to head across town. Once there, Ethan ordered while she got a table. From her seat, she watched him smile at the young girl who flirted outrageously with him while punching in the order.
Marianna was impressed that while Ethan smiled in a friendly way, there was nothing encouraging or flirtatious about him. Curt would have…nope, not going there.
Soon, Ethan brought their food to the table, and Marianna enjoyed her salad while he sampled the soup.
After a few minutes, Marianna placed her fork on the table and looked at her companion. “So, let’s get to the point. You have something else you want to discuss with me, don’t you?”
Startled bemusement flickered briefly, then, turning serious, he said, “I don’t think you’re safe staying at your house.”
“I’ve already thought about that.”
“And?”
Marianna sat back, munching the last bite of salad. She swallowed, took a sip of water, then said, “I hate to admit it, but you’re probably right. I don’t want to, but I guess I’ll be staying at my parents’ longer than I thought.”
“What’s your hesitation?”
“I’ve fought so hard to be…” Did she really want to share this with him? A man she’d known for only a little over a week and met under extreme circumstances? Yet, there was something about him that pulled her, drew her to him.
He finished the sentence for her. “…independent?”
She nodded, guilt hitting her hard. Her family was so wonderful, yet they had a way of being a little smothering sometimes.
“They just want to make sure nothing happens to you.”
Marianna straightened, agitation making her words sharp. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need someone watching to make sure nothing happens to me.”
Something flashed in his eyes. Hurt, anger, grief? She couldn’t place the emotion she saw but wondered at the cause.
Abruptly, he said, “Okay, so this guy that broke in. His shoe print is different than the one we found from the murder.”
Marianna blinked but allowed the topic shift. “Does that mean it was two different people?”
“No, not necessarily. He could have just worn a different pair of shoes this time. We did rule out Suzanne’s ex-boyfriend, Bryson James. He had an alibi, plus his shoe size is about a size and a half too small for the print we found. That’s too much of a difference to suspect him.”
“What about the two prints from the different incidents. Are they the same size?” Marianna wondered.
“No, but there’s only about a half size difference. Which, again, doesn’t mean much. Some people buy their shoes according to fit and feel, not size. But the difference is small enough that we can’t rule out it’s the same person.”
“So, basically, we know nothing.”
“That’s it in a nutshell.”
“And there wasn’t any DNA or anything found either time?”
“Still waiting on that. And you can’t think of anything you might have that this guy could be after?”
Marianna threw her hands up. “No. I can’t think of a thing.”
“Well, my guess is that he didn’t get whatever he was looking for Friday night.”
She looked up at him, fear flowing freely. “So, I guess that means he’ll be back, huh?”
SIX
Monday morning Marianna hurried to school, anxious for the day to be over so she could see Twister. She’d missed his comforting presence. Joseph had volunteered to pick up the dog for her and have him waiting at her parents’ house since she had basketball practice this evening. Twister would greet her when she walked in the door later tonight.
After she and Ethan had finished eating the day before, he’d driven her home to retrieve some of her things and taken her to her parents’ house. Her mom welcomed Marianna like a long-lost child even though she had just spent Saturday night there, while her father’s furrowed gray brows told her he worried silently.
In the classroom she flipped on the television so the kids could watch the morning news. It was filled with mostly political happenings owing to the upcoming election, and her students found it fascinating to be informed of the latest in the process. Oh, they didn’t understand it in detail, but they knew it was a big deal and therefore wanted to be involved. Marianna was happy to oblige. She and the other teachers had even arranged to have a mock election day for the entire school, with several voting booths loaned to the school by the local voter’s registration office. The workers had agreed to volunteer and run the day like a normal voting day, even having the students register to vote just like any other citizen. The only difference was no one had to meet the age requirement. Everyone was really excited about it, even the staff members.
Josh entered the room and handed over another computer part. Marianna went to her desk, pulled open the drawer and realized she’d left his box in the other teacher’s classroom. Making a mental note to get it later, she dropped the part into the drawer and said, “Thanks, Josh.”
“Welcome,” he signed. Then looked at the television. His eyes went wide and he signed, “Daddy!”
“What?” Marianna glanced up at the screen and noticed a well-dressed man in his mid-forties speaking to the reporter to his right.
Josh jumped up and down, causing the room to shake, his large frame causing the effects of a small earthquake. Books tumbled from the shelves, and the desks danced across the floor. Marianna went to him and laid a hand on his arm. “Josh, calm down.” Josh stopped but didn’t take his eyes from the television.
“Daddy,” he signed again.
Sure