Jeffrey and Ian watched Stephen’s SUV round the corner. The night was warm and sticky, the song of cicadas rolling in waves all around them.
“So, you and Lizzie?” Jeffrey smiled at Ian’s confused look. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. You’re in love with her.”
“Where’d you get an idea like that?” Ian shifted on his feet.
“Come on, you were attacking that guy like a wild animal. That was the act of a man in love.” Jeffrey watched his old friend closely, realizing how much he’d missed their friendship the past few years.
Many guys would have been jealous of the relationship Ian and Camylle had shared, but it had never bothered Jeffrey, he’d always known they were just friends. Now, though, he was uneasy, feeling somehow inadequate.
“I don’t know what came over me,” Ian admitted. “At first I thought she was there with him, sharing a private moment, but then she looked right at me. It was like she was pleading me to help and I just went crazy.”
Jeffrey slapped Ian on the back. “I can’t say I would have been able to restrain myself much more.”
Ian’s head shot up, his eyes meeting Jeffrey’s. “Does that mean you’re in love with her?”
Jeffrey shrugged. “She’s an amazing woman. Hard not to love her, but…”
“But what?”
“But, I’m not the one she loves.” Jeffrey twirled his keys on his finger. “You want to go grab a drink?”
Ian shook his head and rubbed his chest. “Nah, I’m going to take some aspirin and crash.”
“Alright, I’ll catch you later then.”
CHAPTER FIFTY ONE
Lizzie’s sleep was plagued by images of Ralph Anderson swimming through her unconscious mind. She awoke coughing, grasping at her neck, feeling like she was being strangled. The room was still dark and she struggled to orient herself. The clock read five forty-five. Instead of lying back down, she pushed the covers back and swung her feet over the side of the bed.
She went to the sink and turned on the hot water. When steam rose from the sink, she soaked a washcloth and scrubbed her face. With the cobwebs of sleep washed away, she reached for her bathrobe, pulled it tight around her, and set off for the kitchen.
The coffee pot gurgled as the last cup of water filled the carafe. Her mug, with cream and sugar, waited for the dark liquid, turning a milky brown as it mixed with the cream. She padded through the living room, pausing to pick up her Bible and settled on the front porch. The neighborhood was quiet, a rare occasion she’d learned, with no dog walkers, no children playing, no joggers. All the houses were dark except one, where a lone light burned in a small front window. Lizzie wondered who was up and why.
The sky was starting to change from black to midnight blue. She knew soon it would pale to gray, then almost white, before turning gold with the rising sun. Despite not being a morning person, she did enjoy watching the sunrise and the promise of a new start that it offered. Today, however, it held dread and fear, knowing Ralph Anderson could be out of jail.
She turned her attention to the Bible and let it flop open on her lap. It opened to Second Corinthians, chapter one, and she noticed an underlined passage.
“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of our mercies and God of all comfort; who comforts us in all our affliction so we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.”
Lizzie read this passage several times, stumbling through it, trying to make sense of the words. Comfort, the word appeared five times in the two verses. Her mind and heart battled over the word. How could she feel comfort after being stalked and threatened, yet how could she not feel comfort in the knowledge that she had so many people willing to protect her?
She’d known Ron and Emma would always protect her, but through this nightmare, she’d learned of the others who were watching over her - Mae, Ian, Jeffrey, and Stephen. Her world that had become so small with the death of her parents had grown without her realizing it.
Was it possible God could use this incident to provide her with wisdom and empathy for someone else’s benefit in the future? Of course, that’s possible, she thought, annoyed with her questioning. Look at how my grief has been used to witness to Jeffrey.
Sure, lot of good that has done. You don’t think your little story has really affected him do you? Lizzie squeezed her eyes shut, trying to silence the warring voices in her head, but they continued to bicker. Almost without realizing it, she began to hum “Jesus Loves Me,” then “How Great Thou Art” and “I’ll Fly Away.” By the time she finished the third song, the negative thoughts receded.
She heard a door open and turned to see a woman with a stroller leaving the house where the light had been on earlier. The woman looked frazzled as she pushed the carriage toward Lizzie; the cries of the baby within could be heard several houses away. Lizzie waved as the mother and child passed. The cries diminished as the pair disappeared in the direction of the park at Lake Eola.
Ian sat on the balcony of his condo, watching the sun climb above the horizon, illuminating the city below him. He’d spent most of the night in this spot unable to sleep. His body ached and bruises had blossomed on his face and ribs. Jeffrey’s admission of love for Lizzie, while it hadn’t come as a surprise, had shaken Ian. He’d recognized the signs of Jeffrey’s feelings early on. She came up in the few conversations the two men had shared recently, and Jeffrey’s voice changed when he spoke of her. Ian recognized the bond they shared and wondered why Jeffrey hadn’t done anything to further his relationship with her.
The depth of Ian’s own feelings, on the other hand, had only been revealed to him last night. The look of terror in Lizzie’s eyes had infuriated him, made him blind to all reason. When she had run into his arms, his body had flushed with pleasure. Even knowing her friends were spending the night, leaving her had taken tremendous will power. Now he battled with the thought of competing with Jeffrey for her affection. Didn’t Jeffrey deserve it more than he did? Hadn’t he suffered enough already? But Ian had never had this feeling before. He’d never known the joy he felt in her presence. Shouldn’t he have the same chance of love that Jeffrey had already experienced?
A gentle breeze rustled the slender palm trees lining the street. Early morning dew rose off the asphalt in a fine steam. Ian watched as the neighborhood came to life, irritated that there seemed to be more couples than usual. An elderly couple shuffled along the sidewalk hand in hand; a young couple kissed goodbye before the man closed his car door and pulled away from the curb; even a pair of dogs played tug-of-war with a rawhide bone.
Ian hefted himself from the chair and went into the one bedroom condo. The living room walls were white, hung with several abstract canvases in muted earth tones; the furniture consisted of a simple sofa and chair from Ikea and a wooden entertainment center he’d built himself. He crossed to the kitchen, the countertops devoid of clutter, with only a coffee pot and a toaster marring the shiny marble surface.
He pulled a loaf of bread from the refrigerator and popped two slices into the toaster. While he waited, he turned on the stereo. Michael W. Smith’s song “Love of My Life” was playing. For the first time he felt he could relate to the words of the song. He remembered her smile and saw all of the dreams he had for his life; he felt as though he would loose his way if he lost Lizzie.
Ian fell to his knees and prayed with more fervor than he’d ever prayed before.
CHAPTER FIFTY TWO
The alarm went off but Lizzie continued to stare at the clock. Another sleepless night had passed her by and she dreaded the thought of going to work. The minutes ticked by and still she didn’t move. The alarm sounded a second time and she pushed the tangled sheet back.
At ten minutes to nine, Lizzie pulled the front door closed behind her. She stood on the porch, her nervous glance sweeping up and down the street, knowing Ralph Anderson had been released on bail, but u
nsure if he was still in the area. She studied every shadow and shrub in her field of vision, waiting to see if there was movement. Three minutes elapsed before she took her first tentative steps toward the driveway.
Once inside the car, she let out her pent up breath. Her heart raced and her palms were clammy. She backed out of the driveway, still expecting Ralph to appear at any moment.
The lobby of Hotel Lago was a flurry of activity when she arrived. Heaps of luggage dotted the sidewalk creating an obstacle course for the bellmen scurrying outside with baggage-laden carts.
“What’s going on?” Lizzie asked as she turned on her computer.
“Large group checking out this morning, did you forget?” Jonathan eyed her critically.
She caught sight of her calendar. The day was circled in red with a note about the departure of an information technology group.
“Sorry, it must have slipped my mind.”
“You okay?” Jonathan asked. “It’s not like you to forget this type of thing.”
“I’m fine,” she replied half-heartedly.
Jonathan hovered a moment longer before returning to his office. Lizzie called her voicemail and found four messages. She took notes as she listened to each, her anxiety receding as she became more engaged in her work.
“Any news?" Stephen asked leaning against the desk, startling her.
“What?” She’d been reading an email from a VIP guest scheduled to arrive that afternoon and struggled to change gears.
“About that creep from the party? Have you heard anything?”
Lizzie shook her head. “Officer Prentiss called yesterday to check in, but couldn’t tell me if Ralph was still in the state or not.”
“It’s not right that he was let out for $500.” Stephen jumped up as if ready to fight.
She sighed. “Tell me about it.”
Stephen sobered. “Hey, if you need anything you’ll let me know won’t you?”
“Thanks, Stephen.” She glanced back at her email. “Would you mind handling a check-in for me?”
“Of course.” He pulled up a chair and sat down next to her. She reviewed the file with him and printed a copy of this latest email.
“Any questions?”
“I don’t think so.” He gave her a long look. “Have you gotten any sleep since Saturday?”
“Not much.” She shrugged. “I’m fine, though.”
Stephen didn’t look convinced. “I’m supposed to be off tomorrow, but if you want me to cover your shift, I would be happy to come in.”
Lizzie shook her head. “The only time I can forget about what happened is when I’m here. It keeps my mind busy, you know?”
“Sure, but if you change your mind…” He stood and returned his borrowed chair.
Lizzie spent the rest of the day meeting arriving guests and assisting with last minute requests. When the VIP arrived she lurked in the lobby while Stephen checked him in, delighted to see the two men clicked right away.
At five, she lingered at her desk. There were still two concierge arrivals expected and she toyed with the idea of staying to check them in herself. She watched Jonathan gather his briefcase and turn off the light in his office. As he turned to leave, he noticed her still sitting at her desk.
“You want to walk out with me?” he asked. She was still taken off guard by Jonathan’s change in attitude toward her since Hurricane Frances. He’d always given her a long leash when it came to concierge matters, but he now seemed to defer to her judgment more often on everything pertaining to the front desk operation.
She hesitated. It would be nice to have someone with her in the parking lot. However, the thought of returning to her empty house frightened her, pushing her to stay at work, surrounded by people she knew.
“I think I’m going to stay a little later, meet the last couple of guests when they arrive.”
“I can’t afford to pay any overtime,” Jonathan cautioned.
She shrugged. “Maybe I’ll take a short day later in the week.”
“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow then. Have a good night.”
She sent an instant message to the front desk and bell services, letting them know she was still in the office and to notify her when the remaining concierge guests arrived. With nothing left to do but wait, she laid her head on the desk and promptly fell asleep.
CHAPTER FIFTY THREE
Stephen blew into the office, almost banging the door against the wall. When he saw Lizzie asleep at her desk, he gently pulled the door closed with only the faintest click of the lock. He tiptoed across the office and tried to pull a file folder out from under her elbow.
“What? What is it?” She lifted her head and looked around.
Stephen gave her a sheepish grin. “Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you. The Pearsons are here.”
“Oh good.” She rubbed her face and pushed her chair back.
“Lizzie, you don’t have to do this.”
“I know, but it’s better than going home, wondering if he is lurking outside.”he offered.
“I don’t want to be a bother.”
“It’s not a bother. Now, let me check-in the Pearsons and you finish your nap.” Stephen snagged the folder and scampered back to the desk.
Lizzie cleared the center of her desk and pulled a rolled up blanket from her bottom drawer. She rested her head on the blanket and tried to sleep again, but her mind was jumping like a child in a bounce house. She stood and paced around the small office, anxious to get home. She thought of Ralph Anderson prowling around, peering inside her windows, searching for ways to get her alone again, and a shiver ran down her spine.
The office door opened and she turned. Stephen shrugged off his blazer and tossed it over a chair.
“Ready to go?” he asked.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Twilight had descended and neon signs flashed further up the road. Stephen walked Lizzie to her car and checked to make sure no one was inside before slipping into his own vehicle. She followed him out of the parking lot, down Washington Avenue. Stephen parked on the side of the road and jumped out of his car, flashlight in hand.
He stepped up to Lizzie’s window. “Why don’t you wait here while I take a look around?”
“Okay.”
Stephen swept the flashlight in a wide arc as he circled the house. He paid close attention to the shrubbery and large trees in the backyard, pausing when he came to the swing. The image of Lizzie curled up in a ball filled his mind, shooting adrenaline through his body. When he was certain Ralph Anderson wasn’t on the property he returned to the driveway.
“All clear,” he announced.
Lizzie opened the door and stepped out. “Would you mind checking inside too?”
“Sure.” He followed her and stepped inside once she unlocked the door. Lizzie followed close behind through each of the rooms, leaving the lights on as they moved. Satisfied the house was secure they returned to the living room.
“You going to be okay tonight?”
“I’m going to have to be,” Lizzie said with a nervous laugh.
“I could stay awhile if you want.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I don’t have any plans. Let’s see what’s on TV.” Stephen flopped onto the couch and reached for the remote control.
“I’m going to make some hot tea, would you like anything?” She opened a cabinet and pulled down a coffee mug.
“Water’s fine.” Stephen flipped through the channels. Lizzie filled her mug and popped it in the microwave for two minutes. When it was ready, she returned to the living room with a bottle of water and her tea.
“Thanks.” He accepted the bottle. “That smells good, what kind is it?”
“Blueberry and pomegranate. It helps relax me.” Lizzie curled up in her leather chair and pulled a blanket around her. Stephen came across a home improvement show and laid the remote back on the coffee table. The pair watched in silence as a couple tackled a kitchen remodel. When the
show ended, Stephen turned to find Lizzie asleep in the chair.
CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR
With each passing day, Lizzie’s fear diminished a little. Ralph Anderson hadn’t shown his face in her neighborhood since being released and Jacob Phillips even stopped by to apologize for his stepson’s behavior.
“You’ve done an amazing job here,” Jacob commented. He stood in the center of the house after the brief tour.
“Thanks,” Lizzie beamed.
Jacob walked to three framed photos and stood before them for several minutes.
“What are these pictures of?”
“They’re drawings I found on the walls.” She stepped closer to admire the photos as well.
“I think my mother may have drawn them,” Jacob said in a sad tone. “She was an artist and told me she’d gotten her start on her grandmother’s walls.”
“Would you like to take these to her? Maybe she would like to have them.” Lizzie reached for one of the frames but he stopped her, shaking his head.
“She died two years ago.”
“I’m so sorry. I want you to have the photos, in honor of your mother.”
“I couldn’t. You’ve already done so much.” He turned to look around, taking in the living room, dinning room, and kitchen. “It’s more beautiful than the photos she used to show me. She would love this.” He gave Lizzie a weak smile. “I’m sorry we allowed it to get so run down.”
“I insist. The pictures mean more to you than they ever could to me. Besides, they’re digital. I can print more.” She gave him a warm smile as she pulled the frames off the wall. Jacob took them from her outstretched hands.
“Thank you.” He cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders. “Ralph shouldn’t be bothering you anymore, but if you should see him again, please call me and I will take care of it.” He strode out of the house to the awaiting limousine.
Lizzie watched the car turn the corner before walking out to the mailbox. She flipped through the pile of mail as she returned to the house, turning at the sound of a car slowing behind her. Ian waved and her stomach fluttered. As he jogged toward her, she noticed the bruising on his face had faded to an ugly green.