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Allen appeared in the doorway again. “I checked the whole place. It’s clear. You’re safe.”
Safe didn’t feel like the right word when fear had a death-grip on her throat. She slowly made her way toward the cabin and entered. When she’d come to the campsite all those years before, they’d thankfully never stayed in this cabin. If they’d gone to one she had, entering would’ve been harder. Mom’s death was still a raw wound she was unwilling to face.
The inside of the cabin was decorated as if they were still living sometime between 1950 and 1970. Dark red shag carpet covered the living room area, complimented by mustard yellow peeling linoleum in the kitchen and bathrooms. She sneezed as dust from the carpet that probably hadn’t been vacuumed since it had been installed clung to the insides of her nose.
“I suppose it’s too cold to leave a window cracked open?” Her voice already sounded nasally. She’d forgotten her allergy medications back at home.
“Depends on how many blankets are on the beds, I suppose. If someone wants to get in, we’ve already learned they don’t respect windows.” Allen opened a closet and glanced inside. “There are two spare blankets in here, but they might have as much dust on them as the carpets and furniture. I can take them outside and try to shake them out.”
Ben was a year younger than her father, so why wasn’t he keeping the place clean? “Odd, I don’t remember these cabins being so neglected as a kid.” She ran a finger over the top of an olive green radio that would go for a lot of money at a vintage shop. A distinct line at the top showed its true color.
Allen shrugged. “Dad never brought us out here when I was a kid.”
“When was that?” She grinned, giving him a hard time. He wasn’t old by any stretch of the imagination, but he was older than her. He had to be at least four years older because she didn’t remember him from school.
He snorted and shook his head. “I’m thirty-five. Dad worked hard when I was younger, but with one income, there wasn’t enough to do vacations. Even locally.” He turned away from her. “Looks like he installed baseboard heat. At least that’s available if we need it.” He seemed to be talking to keep away the silence.
Heather wandered into the smaller of the two rooms and pressed the button to turn on the light. The bulb made a quick flash and the room plunged back into darkness. She immediately gripped the doorframe and swallowed a scream.
“I don’t have any spare bulbs, and I didn’t see any when I checked everything out.” Allen turned on his flashlight and shone it on the floor. She was thankful because that light would’ve made her see flashes.
“You want this room? I can leave my flashlight in here. Just turn it upside down and you have a lamp.” He set it up on the bedside table and immediately the room had a more welcoming glow. It wasn’t bright by any means, but she could find her way around. “It’s LED, so unless the batteries die, you’re good.”
“Thanks. It seems like everything is working against me today.”
“Except me.” He shrugged and headed back for the door. “I’ll be in the other room, but don’t hesitate to knock if you need me. Staying here will give me a chance to email my friends to see if anyone is available to help with that flash drive. I don’t want to send it anywhere and risk losing it.”
She nodded, thankful he was on her side when it came to making sure that piece of evidence didn’t get lost in the shuffle. “I don’t think I’ll need anything. I’ll probably go to sleep, if I can.” Tall order. She couldn’t stop thinking about her dad or the fact that they’d taken him away with his hands tied. He was a prisoner.
Allen nodded and waved his goodnight.
As he reached for the door to close it, she touched his hand. A jolt went through her, and she drew back slightly. “Leave it open. I’m not going to change. I want to be ready for anything.” She also didn’t want two doors between her and the man who’d kept her safe all day. For some reason, that flimsy wood door seemed as thick as the one at the police station when it came to feeling separated from Allen.
“I understand. Call if you need me. I don’t think you’ll need to though.”
She desperately hoped he was right.
* * *
Allen headedto the room at the back of the house. It shared a wall with Heather’s room. If she had trouble sleeping, he’d know. The fear in her eyes as he’d provided light for her had almost done him in.
How long had it been since he’d felt the urge to hold a woman when she was frightened? Probably not since Alyssa, and that was almost five years before. She’d left him to go to Chicago and her big-city lawyer friends. She’d promised to reach out to him, that they would remain friends and maybe more, she’d never done so. When he’d called, his messages had gone unreturned.
He’d tried over and over for days. Then, finally, she’d returned his calls and told him she wasn’t interested in continuing their relationship. He was a small-town cop. She was going to be a big city attorney. There was no hope for them, and he should move on. He’d never allowed himself to try again after that. His career had become the love of his life because his career would never make him feel like he wasn’t worth the effort.
He heard Heather shuffling around in her room. She opened her bag. The zipper closure sounded loud enough to be in his own room. For as much as he told himself not to care, he couldn’t stop hanging onto every sound from a few feet away. Until she was still and comfortable for the night, he would keep listening. That was part of who he was.
The groaning of her mattress as she sat on the bed indicated she was at least ready to try to relax. He took off his boots and belt. Heather was right. He wouldn’t change or put himself in a position to be afraid to run at a moment's notice, but he had to be comfortable if he was going to keep watch all night.
He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts, finally landing on one of his friends who was a cyber security expert for the FBI. They hadn’t talked in a long time, but Rod would totally understand, since they were both busy. He wrote up an email asking what measures he could take to look at the thumb drive. If Rod could meet them somewhere and look at it for them, even better.
After sending off the email, he checked a local news website to see if there was any new information about the two men who’d been killed. Unfortunately, there weren’t any new leads. The police would keep a lot of information to themselves, but occasionally the news media got wind of things they shouldn’t and publicized them.
He didn’t want to call any of his friends in Rapid City when he’d disrupt Heather. If she was sleeping, he wanted to let her. She’d looked exhausted over supper, and he could only imagine the stress she was under. He would feel the same if something had happened to his father. Alcoholic or not, he was still Allen’s father, and Allen loved him. He still prayed for his father’s recovery every night.
His phone vibrated in his hand as a text came through from Rod asking him what he thought might be on the flash drive. Allen considered how much he should say. The case was his, but once he invited the feds to help, he was inviting them to help in any capacity they wanted.
He typed up a quick explanation of what was going on, trying to be vague enough that Rod couldn’t check the news and figure out what he was talking about. Rod answered within a minute that he would recommend a professional look at it, which was what he’d suspected.