Page 4 of Sheltered by the Lawman

Tonight, she was on her own.

Every night she was on her own.

Where would she sleep tonight? The bus depot was an option, but she never slept well there. The local shelter had already closed and wouldn’t give out any more beds. She could always hang out and walk the streets, do some window shopping and want for all the things she couldn’t have.

A rain drop splashed her cheek and that solidified her decision. The bus station it would be then.

Warming her hands with the lukewarm cup, she listened to the faint sound of horns beeping and the low buzzing of the corner street lights. Hearing laughter she looked across the street as a man and woman greeted each other with a long kiss. Her throat constricted but she refused to allow her emotions to form self-pity. Once she let the tears flow they might never stop, and then what? She had no ear to listen to her vent or shoulder to soak up her tears. Crying made her weak, vulnerable. Living on the streets for six months now, it was important that she never allowed any weakness to show. Feebleness made her a sitting duck for the users, manipulators, and the street scum that scoured for victims.

She’d once been the victim, but never again.

One year ago, she would have never believed she’d be here, on the street with five dollars to her name. There was no one to blame but herself. Wrong boyfriend and bad choices equaled a devastating end to a life of comfort. Burke Combs had been a dream that turned into a nightmare. He’d stolen her attention and when he’d had her where he’d wanted her, he’d stolen her independence, money and left her stripped of a nice life—and her reputation. How had she missed the red flags that he was dangerous? That he’d use up his savings then hers to gamble and pay for entertainment.

Working her bottom lip, anger erupted inside her remembering what Burke had done that had been the end. She had been working as a physical therapist for a clinic and he’d used her key card to get in and steal narcotics from the locked cabinet. Even though she hadn’t done anything wrong, the company still fired her. That night she walked away, moved in with a friend, and never looked back.

Until Burke hunted her down.

He had been drinking and when she’d refused to go home with him, he’d ransacked her friend’s apartment and threatened her. Sally knew she had to disappear.

Turning a corner, absorbed in her thoughts, Sally brought her gaze upward just as she saw a flash. She collided with the woman, sending her purse one way and the phone she had been using another. The top had popped off Sally’s coffee, splashing all over the stranger’s expensive looking fur coat.

“Oh my God!” the woman squealed. She was tall, a good six inches taller than Sally, her blonde hair was cut in a neat bob and she wore crimson lipstick. The diamond necklace around her neck reflected the street corner light.

“I’m so sorry. Here, let me help you.” Sally started to reach for the purse from the sidewalk.

“Don’t touch! You’ve done enough!” The woman looked around frantically as if she were looking for someone. “I can’t wait to get out of this neighborhood,” she mumbled.

“I-I…didn’t see you.” Picking up her empty cup and the crushed the lid, Sally blinked as the woman gave her a look that could jackhammer through rock. “What can I do? I could go into a shop and get paper towels.”

“You could make yourself scarce. That’s how you can help.” The tall blonde sighed in agitation as she hurried to pick up her purse and the contents that had fallen out. Sally took a step back, watching, realizing it was best to steer clear. The woman seemed panicked as she gathered her things and continued on her way. Her heels tapped loudly against the cement.

Sally dropped her empty cup into a trash can and that’s when she saw the small red change purse. “Oh no!” She grabbed the forgotten item and took off in the same direction where the woman had gone. Looking up and down the sidewalk, it was empty. A cab’s taillights faded down the street.

She swiveled on her heels and looked around the shadowed street, uncertain what she should do. And then the rain started, pelting down in fat drops that immediately soaked through the thin jacket and jeans she wore. Scurrying under the shelter of an overhang at a closed Chinese restaurant, she looked at the Chanel purse with disdain. With the attitude the stranger had given Sally, she had an urge to toss the purse back onto the ground and forget about it. The incident had already caused her to miss her opportunity to get to the bus station without getting soaked. Now she’d have to wait for the downpour to stop. She was already cold, but she’d be freezing by the time she made it to the station.

She didn’t owe the angry woman anything…

And yet, Sally couldn’t find it in herself to walk away.

Reluctantly, she unzipped the expensive purse and looked for the woman’s ID that was tucked in the plastic pocket. Monica Warren. “So, Monica Warren, you don’t make very nice first impressions.” Along with the identification card were a few large bills, a key, and a business card for a local attorney. Thomas Yates. Sally thought the name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place him.

Thunder rolled in the distance. The weather wasn’t letting up. She realized she had no choice but to go out into it and find the woman. Dragging off her backpack, she unzipped it, dropped the small purse inside and pulled the strap tightly over her shoulder.

The rain continued to come down hard as she made her way past closed shops. She raced in the direction that would take her the few blocks to the address she found on the woman’s address card.

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