Archer's Voice (A Sign of Love Novel)(13)

"Hard to meet someone who doesn't speak," Travis said. He looked thoughtful for a second. "I've tried with him over the years, but he just doesn't respond to niceties. He's in a world of his own. Sorry he was part of your welcome wagon. Anyway, good to have you here." He smiled, taking a sip of his coffee.
"Thanks," I said. "So you're a Pelion police officer?" I asked, stating the obvious, but just making conversation.
"Yup," he said.
"On track to become the Chief of Police," Maggie interrupted, "just like his daddy before him." She winked, walking by on her way back to the table next to the counter that we used for breaks.
Travis raised his eyebrows and smiled. "We'll see," he said, but he didn't look doubtful.
I just smiled at him, and he smiled up at me. I didn't mention that Anne had told me about his father, whom I assumed was Connor Hale. I thought it might sound weird if he knew that I had already asked about his family. Or at least, about the gist of the tragedy that had happened to them.
"Where are you staying?" he asked.
"Oh, right on the lake," I answered. "Rockwell Lane."
"In one of George Connick's rentals?"
I nodded.
"Well, Bree, I'd love to show you around sometime if you're available." His whiskey-colored eyes moved over me.
I smiled, studying him. He was handsome, there was no doubt about that. I was pretty sure he was asking me out, not just being friendly. Dating just wasn't the most brilliant idea for me at the moment though. "I'm sorry, Travis, things are kind of… complicated with me right now."
He studied me for a couple beats, and I flushed under his stare. "I’m a pretty simple kind of guy, Bree." He winked.
I laughed, thankful that he broke the tension. We chatted easily enough while he finished his coffee and as I continued to fill the condiments at the counter and tidy up.
Norm came out of the kitchen just as Travis was getting up to leave. "You flirting with my new waitress?" Norm grumped.
"I have to," Travis answered. "For some unknown reason, Maggie still won't leave your sour ass for me." Travis winked at Maggie who was wiping down a table next to the counter. "She'll come around one of these days though. I hold out hope."
Norm snorted, wiping his hands down the grease-stained apron covering his pot belly. "She comes home to this at night," he said. "What would she want with you?"
Travis chuckled, turning to leave, but calling to Maggie, "You come find me when you get tired of this ill-tempered lug."
Maggie laughed, patting her short, salt and pepper curls, and Norm grumbled his way back into the kitchen. At the door, Travis turned back around to me, saying, "My offer stands, Bree."
I smiled as he closed the door behind him.
"You watch out," Maggie said to me, "That boy will charm the pants right off of you." But she smiled as she said it.
I laughed, shaking my head and watching out the window as Travis Hale got in his police cruiser and pulled away from the curb.


**********


That evening, I took my bike down Briar Road again and picked blueberries along the side of the road. When my bag was half full and my fingertips were stained dark purple, I started for home. On my way back, I sat on my bike on the side of the dusty road in front of Archer's property and looked at the fence in front of me for no particular reason–at least not one that I could explain to myself. After a few minutes, I started peddling home.
That night I dreamed that I was lying on the shore of the lake. I could feel sand beneath my bare skin, the granules biting into my flesh as I rocked against it, a man's welcome weight above me. There was no fear, no distress–I wanted him there. The water came up over my legs like smooth, cool silk caressing my skin and soothing the sting of the abrasive sand.
I woke up gasping, my nipples pebbled painfully against my t-shirt and my pulse beating rhythmically between my legs. I tossed and turned until I finally fell asleep, somewhere close to dawn.

CHAPTER 5

Bree

I was off from the diner the next day. When I woke up and looked at the clock, it was eight seventeen. I startled slightly. I hadn't slept that late in months and months, but I supposed it was to be expected being that I'd hardly slept the night before. I sat up slowly, the room coming into focus. I felt heavy and groggy as I swung my legs over the side of the bed. My sleep-filled head had barely started to clear when a sound came from outside, just a branch dropping, or a boat engine backfiring in the distance, but my brain grabbed it and catapulted me straight into my waking nightmare–I froze, terror seizing up my muscles, my brain screaming. I watched through the small window in the door separating me and my dad. He saw me in his peripheral vision, and started signing Hide, over and over, as the man screamed at him to put his hands down. My dad couldn't hear him, and his hands continued to move only for me. My body jolted as the gun exploded. I cried out and my hand flew up to my mouth to stifle the sound as I stumbled backwards, instantly filled with shock and horror. I tripped on the edge of a box and fell down backwards, drawing my legs up under me, trying to make myself as small as possible. I didn't have a phone back here. My eyes flew around the room looking for something I could hide behind, somewhere I could crawl. And that's when the doors swung open…