Free Her Survivor: A Black Eagle Ops Novel by Vonnie Davis

flowery doodads around it became a focal point, a grounding spot for his battle-suffering mind. Slowly, heartbeat by heartbeat, jagged breath by jagged breath, the flashback faded and the present brightened once again. Dustin sat in the midst of a homey kitchen, drawing supplies spread across the table, and a glass of lemonade at his elbow, its ice cubes melting.
    He focused on Kelcee’s floor plan once more and an idea struck him. He snatched his cell from the table and called her. She’d mentioned some of his ideas as being “pricey.” Evidently her funds were limited.
    “Bookstore by the Falls. How can I help you? There’s a serviceman’s special on books about homosexual horses. One day only. For a dollar more, I’ll throw in a book about sex-addicted steers, too.”
    The sound of her voice loosened the gripping tightness in his chest. The tautness he’d lived with since parts of Wysocki landed on Dustin’s arms and chest, in that house with holes blasted through the walls, slowly lessened.
    His mouth opened and closed a couple of times. He took a sip of his lemonade.
    “Hello? Dustin, are you there?”
    “Yes,” he finally forced out, “how busy are you?” He sipped more of his drink. “Do…do you have a few minutes to answer a couple questions for me? I’m working on your plans.” He flipped her notepad in front of him. “And don’t think that remark about the horses went unnoticed.” She was pulling him out of his flashback.
    “When you didn’t answer right away, I got a sick feeling maybe Junebug was using your phone for some reason. You have questions to ask about the plans you’re drawing? How exciting. Ask away.” Her voice lowered. “I’ve only got one customer right now and he gives me the creeps. Crap, forget I said that. I haven’t had a chance to eat yet today. I’m hungry and grumpy.” She sighed. “All I’ve had is a pot of coffee, and I’m running on jitters.”
    Dustin’s gaze drifted to the black-cat kitchen clock with the tail that constantly swung back and forth. It was nearing one o’clock.
Christ, I lost over an hour in my mental fog.
He shook his head and tried to jiggle everything into focus. Just who was this man who gave her the creeps? “Could you give me a listing of the types of books you typically stock a lot of? Ah…like children’s, historical, mysteries. That kind of thing?”
    “Sure.” She gave him a rough inventory, and with a shaky hand, he took notes of what she said, the breathy sound of her voice relaxing him.
    “l’ve got this idea of identifying each shelving area with different-colored paint. I wanted to see what you thought of it.”
    “Go ahead. I’m all ears.” He could almost hear the smile of excitement in her voice. She really did love her little bookstore. Doing what he could to make the establishment prettier and more efficient for her suddenly became very important. And he’d damn well do it for his sweet new friend, too.
    Male laughter drifted into Dustin’s cell, followed by, “You’re all boobs, Kelcee. Pure tits and ass.”
    “Look, frog face, you don’t get to walk into my store and talk to me like that. Not on a day when I’m running on pure caffeine. Show some respect or get out!”
    What the hell? Some man had just pissed Kelcee off, and by the sound of her voice, she was a little leery of the son of a bitch, too. Dustin nearly crushed the cell in his angry grip.
    “I hate that guy,” Kelcee whispered into her cell. “Talk to me, Dustin. Keep my mind off of wringing his neck. Please, give me your ideas.”
    “Well, red for children’s books, maybe.” He was seeing a little red himself. Who was that bastard who spoke to her so brazenly? He deserved a lesson in manners. Then he recalled how he’d made fun of her teacup ass. “Kelcee, I really am sorry for how I acted in your store when ZQ brought me in to meet you. I was a first-class jerk.”
    She chuckled softly. “Yes, you were, but you’ve already