Page 14 of Dangerous December (Northern Pines Suspense #8)
After a sleepless night, Dev downed a few cups of black coffee at a truck stop on the edge of town, then got back into the Jeep and drove aimlessly through town...only to find himself turning onto Hawthorne.
He continued down to the end of the block, nodding at the folks strolling along the sidewalk who waved at him—which, it seemed, like a hundred percent of the people he saw.
The first few days here, he’d been uncomfortable at the recognition and attention from veritable strangers. Now he realized that they were all simply an incredibly friendly lot, and waved to everyone.
Pulling to a stop in front of the Walker Building, he rested his wrist on the top of the steering wheel as he surveyed the beautiful old building.
Once again, he imagined a rainbow of colorful kayaks leaning against the exterior wall, and an American flag fluttering from the empty flagpole angling skyward from the second floor above the entrance.
Was it even possible? Not likely. If he sank his savings into a business like that, he’d probably end up broke before the year was out.
At a sharp rat-a-tat against his half-lowered window, the world around him exploded. His heart rate escalated to triple speed, his focus narrowing on a single point—survival.
He lurched to the right, twisting within the confines of the tight space behind the wheel as he automatically reached for his gun.
A gun that wasn’t there.
Panic surged through him as he pawed at the dashboard. The passenger seat—
An angular male face framed in a furry bomber cap, his features blurred with sags and wrinkles, stared through the window at him with a startled expression that had to match his own.
It took Dev a moment to recognize Frank Ferguson, one of the boarders.
The man adjusted his tie and tapped at the glass again. “You okay in there, son?”
“Fine. Just fine.” Until you nearly made my heart stop.
In this lazy, quiet community, Dev perceived the threat level as low. He’d relaxed his guard. But it took almost nothing to bring the past crashing back on him with the lethal force of an AK-47.
Once again, images of blood and death crowded into his brain. His hands started to shake.
The acrid scent of gunfire and smoke filled the air, making it impossible to breathe.
It isn’t real. It isn’t real.
Taking a slow, steadying breath, he curled his fingers around the steering wheel and tightened his grip until his knuckles turned white.
When he opened his eyes, he found several passersby on the sidewalk had slowed and were bending over to look through the passenger side of the Jeep with expressions of concern.
“Is everything all right with this man, Frank?” A heavyset woman in an orange jacket frowned. “He looks white as a sheet.”
Her friend’s eyes widened. “Oh...this is Vivian’s son, right? Is he okay?”
He hadn’t blushed since he was a kid. Maybe not even then. But now Dev felt heat rise at the back of his neck.
Frank straightened. “Of course he’s fine. We’re just visiting.”
Under his breath, so only Dev could hear, he added, “Old friends. They mean well, but they’re busybodies. Sorry about that.”
Dev opened his door partway, letting the elderly gent step aside, then he got out, needing to escape the oppressive confines of the vehicle. “I...I was just checking out the building. What are you up to?”
Frank arched his spine, one hand at the small of his back, then unbuttoned his suit jacket. “Morning constitutional. I walk three miles twice a day, no matter what the weather, or I stiffen right up. Sunshine and exercise do the trick.”
The innocuous conversation felt like a healing balm to Dev’s raw nerves. “Must be tough.”
“Shouldn’t happen at my age, but there you are. I got my white hair by fifty, and I even needed a hearing aid when I hit forty-nine—just like my dad.” Frank gave Dev a piercing look. “But I’d guess things aren’t so easy for you either, eh?”
I’m fine had been his constant refrain since coming to Agate Creek, and he started to say it again, then stopped, all too aware that Frank had just witnessed his meltdown a moment ago and would know it was a lie.
“You’re hoping to return to active service?”
“I...was.” Saying the words aloud once again made them even more painful. More real. “The VA says I have permanent hearing loss and a bum shoulder. I won’t ever qualify again for my old unit.”
“I don’t suppose you want to ride a desk somewhere.”
“No, sir.”
“Just Frank. And I don’t blame you. You’ve had to see and do things most people couldn’t bear...but leaving that adrenaline rush behind would seem empty, somehow.”
Frank stepped up on the sidewalk and studied the front of the Walker Building. “I always admired the architecture along Hawthorne. Could you show me the inside of your building, if you’ve got a minute? I haven’t been inside for years.”
Relieved at Frank’s tactful change of topic, Dev rounded the bumper and went to unlock the front door, then ushered him inside.
The older man moved to a wide square of sunlight beaming through the windows on the second floor and turned slowly, taking it all in.
“I always loved this building. Nice and open in front, clear up to the rafters, but the back half will give you extra space on that second floor. And it’s mid-1800s architecture is just right for this historic district.”
Dev nodded.
“I think there was a lawyer’s office in here, some time back. A person could come in here and put in offices or a store in no time flat.”
Frank strolled through the main floor.
“Build some shelving, order merchandise, and you’d have a start at some income—then the whole winter to finish it right. Looks like you did a fine job clearing it out.”
“Thanks to the youth group at church. And Beth,” Dev added with a short laugh, “who wouldn’t let me say no to them.”
Frank pinned Dev with a measuring look. “She’s a good woman.”
Dev knew where the old guy was heading, and changed the subject. “Have you ever seen the lower level?”
“Can’t say as I have. Is it just storage?”
“Not anymore.” Dev led the way to the back of the store and punched a button. “There’s a nice, wide flight of stairs, but we’ll take the freight elevator down.”
When they reached the lower level, Dev flipped on a bank of switches. Light filled the cavernous, empty space. The walls were sandstone block, the floor smooth stone.
The youth group had helped him remove the last of the junk down here as well. When he headed for the series of garage doors forming much of the east wall, Dev felt a familiar tug of excitement.
He opened them one by one, letting in a rush of crisp fall air. “Take a look.”
Frank joined him, and when he reached the open doors, his jaw dropped in awe. “This is beautiful.”
Agate Creek widened along the stretch behind the block, sunlight sparkling in eddies and swirls as it danced around several boulders and swooped under a downed tree.
Massive old oaks, lacy birch, and aspens on both sides of the creek blazed ruby and orange and vivid yellow, all the more striking against the backdrop of granite cliffs rising behind them on the far side of the creek.
Frank moved to the edge of the creek and sat on a boulder the size of a sofa. “So...what do you plan to do with this place?”
“No plans.”
Frank grinned. “Don’t tell me you haven’t given it a thought.”
Dev shrugged. “I should sell it, when I take possession.”
“But...”
Dev laughed. “You are one insistent man.”
“That’s because I saw the look in your eye when we walked through this building—and your expression when you opened all of these doors. Just like a kid on Christmas Eve.”
“Well...I’ve been imagining an adventure sporting goods place on the main floor. Someone might be able to establish a good business if the economy doesn’t falter too much. Then again, it would be a huge risk to even try.”
“And down here?”
“Kayak and inner tube rentals. Maybe canoes. Customers could practically step outside these doors and go right into the water. Of course, there’d need to be van service of some kind for return transport.”
Dev felt a glimmer of excitement building in the pit of his stomach. “Rock-climbing gear, cross-country and downhill ski equipment...there could be something for every season.”
He cleared his throat, a little embarrassed. “For whoever might be crazy enough to take the risk, that is.”
“Crazy? Sounds like a great idea to me. Of course, I never did get into all of that,” Frank said with a wistful smile. “I’m just a stuffy old man who wouldn’t know a kayak from a duck boat.”
“It’s not too late.”
“Even in my younger days, I wasn’t all that coordinated.” Frank gave a self-deprecating laugh. “So...if some stranger were to pursue that dream of yours, what might he do with that strip of land between the back of the building and the creek?”
“Picnic tables, maybe, so customers and staff could come out and have lunch. Think it would work?”
“Sounds great. How soon can you open?”
Dev choked back a startled laugh at Frank’s subtle persistence. “Like I said—”
“Sounds like you’ve been doing a lot more thinking about this than you realize, son. If I were you, I’d put a pen to paper and see if it’s possible. How hard could it be? You need a new career. This building is yours—or it will be—and it’s perfect.”
“You make it sound easy.”
“Maybe not easy, but it could be a lot of fun. New beginnings can be a grand adventure.” Frank pursed his lips. “I’ve found that praying hard on something helps guide me in the right direction...unless God has better plans. You oughta give it a try.”
“Now you sound like Beth.”
Frank gave him a keen, penetrating look. “Well, she’s a believer, and she’s a young woman who set out to accomplish things on her own and did them well. So I guess I’ll take that as a real compliment.”
Back up on the main level, Frank followed Dev out onto the street and watched as he locked the door.