Secrets And Lies. Shirlee McCoy

make the old house into a comfortable home. Eventually, she’d invite people over, do a little entertaining, get back into the swing of being the person she’d once been.

      She pulled into her driveway, Tristan right on her bumper.

      He was out of his SUV before she could open her door, motioning for her to stay where she was as he attached Jesse’s lead. The dog jumped from the back of the SUV, his blond tail wagging, his face set in what looked like wide-mouthed grin. He looked like most of the yellow labs she’d seen—stocky body, broad head, short coat. He was fitter, though, his lean body made for the work he did. In other circumstances, Ariel would have been amused by the perpetually happy dog. Right then, all she wanted was to get into her house, close all the shades and hide from the world.

      Tristan made a sweep of the yard, walking Jesse along the perimeter and then to the front door. Finally, he seemed satisfied and jogged to the van.

      “Ready?” he asked, opening the door and offering her a hand out.

      “Not really,” she responded, the honest answer slipping out as he walked her up the porch stairs. An old swing hung from the eaves, the metal chains creaking as she unlocked the door. Across the street, Edna Wilkinson’s porch light went on. She’d probably noticed the strange SUV in Ariel’s driveway and wanted to get a better look.

      “You’re scared,” Tristan said as she led the way into the house.

      “I’d be foolish not to be.” She turned to face him, was surprised at how tall he suddenly seemed. At least eight inches taller than her, and she wasn’t short. “Someone nearly killed me. That’s not something I can put on the back burner and worry about later.”

      “You’re right, and I can assure you that the Desert Valley police are taking this seriously.”

      “They take every case seriously, don’t they? Look at what they’ve accomplished these past few months. Cracking down on that extortion ring and putting corrupt police officer Ken Bucks behind bars. Finding the bank heist money that was hidden outside town.”

      “Yes,” Tristan responded. “Sometimes, though, it helps to be reminded that you’re not alone in your struggles.”

      The words echoed the thought she’d had at the school—the one about being alone and in trouble—and her cheeks heated again. “Yes. I guess it does. Thanks for escorting me home, Tristan. I appreciate it.”

      “It sounds like you’re kicking me out.”

      “Just giving you the freedom to go back to whatever you were doing before you saved my life.”

      “I was heading for a meeting with you,” he reminded her, a smile in his eyes.

      She couldn’t help it. She smiled in return, some of the tension she’d been feeling slipping away. “I’d forgotten all about that.”

      “Tell you what, how about I take a look at the locks on your doors while I’m here? Make sure they’re strong enough to keep someone out? Then, we can discuss my obnoxious sister and her academic troubles.”

      “She’s not obnoxious.”

      “Much?” he asked, and she laughed.

      “That’s better,” he commented, as he fiddled with the bolt on the front door.

      “What’s better?”

      “You don’t look like you’re going to shatter anymore. This bolt looks good. Let’s look at the back door.” He said it all so quickly that the first few words almost didn’t register.

      By the time they did, he was halfway down the hall, heading to the back of the house.

      “I wasn’t going to shatter,” she muttered, hurrying after him.

      “I didn’t say you were. I just said you looked like you might.” He’d reached the mudroom and the door that opened from it into the backyard.

      “I’m not the kind of person who shatters when things don’t go her way,” she replied, but he was turning the lock, frowning at the door, and she wasn’t sure he heard.

      “This could be a lot stronger, Ariel,” he finally said.

      “I can have it replaced.”

      “You could also put a door between the mudroom and the kitchen.” He touched the doorjamb that had once housed an interior door. Someone had taken it down before Ariel had bought the property.

      “I think the one that goes there is out in the shed behind the house. I found it there after I moved in.”

      “I’ve got the day off tomorrow. How about I stop by and hang it for you? Two layers of defense are better than one.”

      “I can do it.” Probably. Although, lately the pregnancy was making her tired. The further along she got, the more difficult everyday tasks became. She tried not to dwell on that. She tried not to think about how much more difficult it would be to parent alone than it would have been to parent as a team.

      “Just because you can do it, doesn’t mean you have to. If you don’t want to accept the help as a gift, you can point me in the direction of a good tutor for Mia and give me a pass on being late to our meeting today. I did miss...what? Two previous meetings?”

      “You also saved my life, so you’ve already earned the pass on that, but...” She hesitated, not sure about the offer she was about to make. She liked Mia. The teen had a great vocabulary and a flair for words. She also had a chip on her shoulder and an attitude to go with it. “I’ve been doing some tutoring on the side, working with some of the local kids getting them ready for SAT and ACT tests. I’d love to work with Mia.”

      “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

      “I offered. Just like you offered to put up my door. Bring her over tomorrow. While you’re fixing the door, I’ll help her with the paper that’s due Monday.”

      “She has a paper due Monday?”

      “Yes, and two extra credit assignments due by Friday. If she doesn’t get As, she’s not going to pass my class.”

      “It would devastate Mia to be held back a year.”

      “I know. If I could make an exception, I would. I can’t.”

      “I wouldn’t ask you to. She needs to pass on her own merit. It’s not like she’s not capable of it.” He ran a hand over his hair, rubbed the back of his neck. He looked exasperated and worried. Like any parent would be if his child were failing. Only Mia wasn’t his child. She was his sister. That had to be complicating the dynamics between them.

      “Were you and Mia close before your parents passed away?” she asked, and regretted the question immediately. It was too personal, something that he might discuss with a counselor. Not his sister’s teacher.

      “I joined the military when I was eighteen. Mia was one. I guess you could say we barely knew each other before I became her guardian. I saw her during my leave, but that wasn’t enough to create the kind of bond that would make this situation easier.”

      “I guess it’s my turn to say I’m sorry,” she said, her heart aching for what they’d both lost.

      “It’s been hard, but we’re doing okay, slowly getting to know each other better. I think we’ll both survive her teenage years.”

      “Think?”

      He laughed, the warmth of it ringing through the quiet house. “I should have said ‘survive with our sanity intact.’ Now, how about we stop talking about my sister and finish looking at your locks?”

      He walked to a window, frowning at the wood pane and old fashioned lock. “It would be very easy for someone to break the lock and climb in the window.”

      “That’s a cheerful thought,” she muttered, her heart thrumming at the thought of a masked intruder entering