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If Elliott hadn’t acted as swiftly as he had, Marie would most likely have been struck in the head.
She could have been killed.
But it was pretty obvious that the perpetrator hadn’t meant to commit bodily harm.
Not yet, at least.
It was clear now, to the police and to Elliott, that someone was toying with Liam. Someone who wanted to make him squirm. See him hurt. Someone who probably was not going to stop until Liam had suffered.
As with any “game,” the guy would continue to taunt Liam with proof that he could get to him. When issuing mere reminders of this fact failed to satisfy him, he would up his ante.
Everyone involved agreed on that point.
It was anyone’s guess what upping the ante would mean to the guy.
But Elliott seemed to think that, based on the fact that every single act had been aimed at Liam—Marie’s shop being the only public access the guy had to Liam—the escalated attempts would be aimed at him, as well.
While Marie didn’t like any of this, she accepted the theory that she wasn’t in immediate physical danger and so, when her mother called the next day, didn’t mention the brick in her shopwindow. Her mother had always had an edge where Liam was concerned. No point in rocking that boat.
Elliott had had the window boarded up before the police left the night before. Between him and Gabi and Liam, her shop had been clean and ready for business before they all retired for the night. Liam had had a company there first thing that morning replacing the window. The full-time security that had been placed out front as well as in the back, not just when the shop was open, but twenty-four hours a day—at Liam’s insistence and expense—was now of the gun-carrying variety.
There’d been no opportunity for her and Elliott to finish their personal conversation of the night before. Liam and Gabi had been with him when he checked her apartment as he’d dropped her off and then the three of them had gone on upstairs together.
He’d been downstairs that morning before she had, but before she could even greet him, Grace had walked off the elevator. Then he’d been busy reassuring the older woman—who’d seen the broken window—that everyone was safe.
Marie was open for business right on time, and life went on.
But he hadn’t denied that he liked her too much. And now he knew she returned his feelings.
Barbara’s call had come when Marie was upstairs, taking a break, just after lunch. She hadn’t had much sleep. And had taken half an hour to sit on her couch alone with a glass of herbal tea.
“I have some news for you, sweetie.” Barbara’s voice practically bubbled over the line. But it was the hesitancy that also filtered through that had Marie opening her eyes and sitting up straight.
“What?” she asked. If her mother and father were reuniting for the third time, she couldn’t pretend to be happy. Her mother was just going to be heartbroken again. And sooner or later, the woman would be unable to put herself back together.
Marie knew. She’d watched the decline over the years. She’d seen a strong confident woman lose all faith in herself until she’d become a paranoid fragile shadow of what she could have been.
“I’m getting married!”
She heard the excitement in her mother’s voice. Knew Barbara wanted her to share in it. And she just couldn’t.
Not again. She didn’t say the words that sprang to mind first. Instead, she managed, “I just talked to Daddy last week and he didn’t say anything...”
“He doesn’t know yet.” And there was the hesitancy again. “I thought it was best if you knew first because he’s probably going to call you. I’m sorry, honey. You shouldn’t have to deal with that, and I’ll tell him to leave you out of it, bu
t you know your father...”
Wait. Marie slumped back on the couch, her hand to her head. She shook her head. And sat up again. “You’re getting married, but not to Daddy?”
“That’s right.”
Wow. But how... “Who are you marrying?” Had her mother gone completely mad?
“Bruce.”
“I don’t know a Bruce, do I? The only Bruce I’ve ever heard you mention is your therapist...”
“He’s a psychiatrist, and yes, that’s him. Dr. Bruce Mendholson. He’s going to be here in a few minutes, but I told him I wanted to tell you about us myself.”
