Free Last Kiss Goodbye by Rita Herron Page A

water.
    “I ain’t had no trouble out here before,” Cliff said in a weak voice. “What’s going on now?”
    “I don’t know,” Sheriff Boles replied. “Some prankster kids may have vandalized the room just to stir up trouble. You know how this weather affects them.”
    The old man nodded. “I should have moved away from here when my Gertie died. But I couldn’t bear to leave her.”
    “Cliff, I need to move to another cabin,” Ivy said.
    “Good Lord, yes. I wouldn’t feel right you staying here.” He rubbed a freckled hand over his chin, but his color was improving. “I’ll get a cleaning crew to take care of this mess.” He stood, composing himself. “Let me unlock the cabin on the other side of Mr. Mahoney. I’ll leave the key inside.”
    Ivy thanked him and walked him to the door, worried about the man’s health. He was too old for such a shock, but he assured her that he was fine as he toddled outside.
    Sheriff Boles’s cell phone jangled, and he flipped it open. “Boles here.” He hesitated. “Yeah. Jesus. I’ll be right there.”
    The sheriff stopped beside Ivy and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Call me if anything else strange happens, Ivy. That’s what I’m here for, to protect the citizens.” He removed a business card from his pocket and handed it to her. “My home phone number’s on there as well as my cell.”
    “Thanks, Sheriff. I appreciate your concern.”
    Matt followed the sheriff to the door with a frown. “What’s wrong, A.J.? What was that call about?”
    A.J. hesitated. “It’s started again.”
    “What’s started again?” Ivy asked.
    “The trouble. A fight broke out with some teens in front of one of the gas stations. And there’s been a murder out near the junkyard.” The sheriff leveled his gaze at Matt, an insinuation in his eyes. “You weren’t out there earlier, were you?”
    Matt’s jaw tightened. “I dropped by to see my mother, but that’s the only place I stopped.”
    “And how did it go? Was she glad to see you, Matt?”
    His shoulders stiffened. “Yeah, she welcomed me with open arms.” Sarcasm laced his voice and anguish radiated from him, stirring Ivy’s compassion.
    The sheriff stared at Matt for a long minute, eyes locked. “You didn’t have a run-in with anyone else while you were out there?”
    Matt’s expression turned lethal. “No. Who was murdered?”
    “I’m not at liberty to divulge the victim’s identity. We have to notify the next of kin.” Sheriff Boles turned back to Ivy with a smile. “Like I said, call me if you have any more problems, Miss Stanton, day or night. And if I were you, I’d keep my doors locked.” He tugged his hat lower on his head, then opened the door, the wind hurling rain inside. “In fact, if I were the two of you, I’d get out of town. There’s nothing for either one of you here anymore. Nothing but trouble.”
    Ivy barely suppressed a shudder. In the next second, she wondered if his comment had been a threat instead of a warning.
    AS SOON AS A.J. LEFT, A strained silence engulfed the room. The air was charged with tension, the accusations A.J. had posed lingering, leaving the rancid smell of suspicion. Did A.J. really think Matt had committed murder the first night he was back? What had happened to make his buddy distrust him?
    “I can’t believe someone knows who I am,” Ivy said in a strained voice. “But that is blood, isn’t it?”
    He narrowed his eyes. “Yes, what did you think it was?”
    “I…wasn’t sure.” She paused, heat staining her cheeks. “I…don’t see red anymore. The color red. Not since that night.”
    The reality of her words slammed into him. He’d heard she’d been traumatized, had blacked out her memories. But she’d blocked out colors, as well? Maybe that explained her drab clothing. A woman like her should be dressed in pretty bright colors, not denim or brown.
    His earlier need to seek vengeance against her vanished, shame replacing his anger.