Page 78 of Smokey's Distraction
During dinner, she’d been tempted to ask Whitney about Smokey, hoping to get some “inside” information on the man, but she’d resisted. She had to stop thinking about him, though how could she? Her body was always on autopilot whenever he was around, no matter how hard she tried to pretend he didn’t have any effect on her. Just hearing his name at work made her heart skip a beat. Ridiculous? Probably. Unprofessional? Absolutely.
But what could she do?
Like a moth to a flame, she was drawn to him.Maybe I should tell Zach to send someone else.But that would jeopardize her chances of making partner, something she’d worked her ass off for too long to throw away over a man. She’d been a full-time student throughout college and graduate school, and worked every moment she had to spare, sacrificing many, many nights of fun and any kind of meaningful relationships. Making partner was the brass ring of success and validation, along with financial security. She would never allow herself to be poor, hungry, or homeless again. Life had been going along as planned until Zach sent her to Pinewood Springs and she met Smokey. Suddenly, it was like she was on an out-of-control roller coaster, turning her structured, well-thought-out life topsy-turvy.
If only he wasn’t so funny, so tough—so sexy.He paid for the alarm system and never would’ve told me.It made her insides all warm and mushy whenever she thought about it. The truth was, his gentle side made her weak, while his dominant side made her wet.
“Pretty fucked up,” she muttered as she pressed the garage door opener.
Opening the car door with one hand, she grabbed her briefcase with the other and slid out of the vehicle, closing the door with her hip. The headlights turned off, submerging the garage into darkness. Ashley cursed under her breath for forgetting to have Mark replace the burnt-out lightbulb while he’d been there the previous Saturday.
Then she heard a scrape, like shoes against concrete.
She froze.
She felt someone’s eyes on her. Clenching her jaw, she spun around to see if someone was standing in the driveway. Her mind running wild, she expected to see Jeffrey walking toward her, but no one was there.
Still, there was that uneasy feeling she couldn’t shake.
Someone is here, I know it. I feel it.
She stood there and listened, hearing nothing but the branches swishing and leaves rustling in the wind. Her breathing quickened, and a scream crawled up her throat when out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed a man skulking in the shadows.
I have to get the hell out of here!
Stumbling in the darkness, Ashley screamed as she raced toward the back door. Grabbing the doorknob, she quickly unlocked it and rushed inside, slamming it shut.
“Holy shit!” Fumbling with the locks on the door, she managed to bolt them just as the man slammed against it. “Fuck!”
She dashed over to the nearest window and tried to open the latch, her fingers clumsy from fear. The alarm system was connected directly to the police station, so opening the window and setting it off would be quicker than dialing 911 and trying to explain coherently what was going on. Finally, she disengaged the lock and pushed the window up, the shrill siren of the alarm almost deafening.
Ashley ran back to the door and pressed her ear against it, half expecting the man to throw himself against it once more. She held her breath, listening, but there was nothing.
She stayed that way until she saw the red and blue lights flashing eerily against the hardwood floor. Tears of relief trickled down her face as she went into the family room and switched on the lamps.
At that moment, the familiar ring of her phone sounded surreal. She brought it to her ear and told the officer she was in the house, and that she was safe. At their knock, she opened the door for the two police officers and took a seat on the couch as they went through the house and garage, making sure all was clear before returning to the family room.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Officer Pedersen asked.
“I’d come home from dropping off a friend, and when I got out of the car in the garage, I heard something on the driveway or sidewalk. I wasn’t sure where it came from,” she said as she wrung her hands in her lap.
“What did you hear?”
“It sounded like footsteps, or the sound shoes make against pavement. I don’t know.”
“Did you see anyone?”
“Not clearly, but I saw a man off to the side, hiding in the shadows. I know it was Jeffrey.”
“Who’s Jeffrey?” the young cop asked.
“Elion—Jeffrey Elion. He’s after me because I sent him to prison. He got out a couple of months ago, and he’s been stalking me ever since. I testified against him at his trial in Denver over four years ago.”
“Does he live in town?”
“In Denver, but he could’ve moved up here. A lot of weird stuff has happened to me since I arrived in town. One of the tires on my car was slashed, eggs were smashed against my car, and I saw someone staring at me in the parking lot of where I work. I’ve also had the feeling of being followed, or someone watching me.” She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering.
“So you’ve seen”—Officer Pedersen looked down at his notebook—“Jeffrey Elion several times?”
