Page 11 of Sachie's Hero

She nodded, hating to admit to her weakness. She was a counselor, for heaven’s sake. Her arms fell to her sides. Would she ever get past this? Would her life ever return to normal?

“Walk it off,” Teller said.

When she didn’t move, he took her hand. “It’s okay. I’ll be with you.” In silence, he led her across the short distance of her front yard and back for several laps.

By the time Officer Layne approached her, Sachie’s pulse and breathing had returned to normal. When she tried to pull her hand out of Teller’s, his fingers tightened slightly, not enough she couldn’t free it, but enough to make her realize she didn’t want to let go. For whatever reason, this stranger grounded her when her mind spiraled uncontrollably.

“Ms. Moore, I can take your statement now, or you can come by the station later in the morning and give it,” Layne said.

“I’d rather get it over with now,” she said.

He nodded and pulled a pen and pad from his pocket. “You said you saw a face of a person in your window. Could you describe that face?”

The panic she’d felt moments before swelled inside her.

Teller’s hand tightened around hers, and the swelling subsided.

Sachie drew a deep breath, closed her eyes and forced her mind to review the memory. “It was dark,” she said. “I only got an impression of dark hair and a thin face.” She shrugged, unwilling to tell them what had been nagging at her since the face had appeared. The face had been familiar, but she couldn’t quite put a finger on who it reminded her of. Or her mind didn’t want her to figure it out.

Layne asked her a barrage of other questions that all seemed to run together in her exhausted brain. She answered as best she could. She hadn’t seen the man in the window bust her car windshield, and she’d been hiding in her closet when he’d broken through her front door and the door to her bedroom. “I’m not much help, am I?”

“You did the right thing by hiding and calling for help,” Officer Layne said and turned to Teller with some of the same questions.

Sachie listened to the deep, smooth tone of his voice as he described the assailant.

“I didn’t get a look at his face as he was running away from me. He was tallish, lanky and his hair was a little shaggy, not too long, but like he’d missed a haircut or two.”

Officer Layne wrote down Sachie’s and Teller’scontact information. “We’ll be in touch with whatever information we discover about this case. In the meantime, you’ll need to get that doorframe repaired, and you might consider installing a security system.”

The gray light of dawn crept across the sky as the Hawaii Police officers drove away from Sachie’s cottage, leaving her standing on the front porch with Teller and no idea what to do next.

Teller turned to her. “If you want to sleep, I can stand watch.”

She laughed, the sound a bit on the hysterical side. “I’m tired, but I couldn’t sleep if I tried.”

“How about I make you a cup of coffee?” he said. “I could use one.”

“Why don’t I makeyoua cup of coffee?” she said, leading the way back into the cottage. “That way, I can stay busy.”

“Sounds good,” he said as he followed her to the kitchen at the back of the house. “And maybe we can figure out who followed you here.”

She stopped so suddenly he ran into her.

Her cheeks heated, and her hands clenched at her sides, her body tensing. “What do you know?”

“Only that you moved to the Big Island to get away from a stalker on Oahu after suffering from a traumatic incident.” He touched her arm. “Look, you can tell me as much or as little as you feel comfortablewith. The more I know, the better I can anticipate trouble. But I get it. I’m a stranger. It’s hard to spill your guts with someone you’ve just met.” He nudged her elbow. “Let’s start with coffee. If all we talk about is what’s the best brand of coffee, that’s enough. I’m here until you don’t need me anymore. Now. Breathe.”

Sachie drew in a deep breath and continued into the kitchen. After cleaning up the broken glass and spilled juice, she went through the routine of filling the coffeemaker with water, scooping the dark crystals into a filter and turning the machine on. As the air filled with the rich aroma, she set two mugs on the counter, finally turning to face the stranger leaning against the counter in her kitchen. “Cream and sugar?”

He shook his head. “Black.” His green eyes studied her as if he could see every thought flitting through her head.

“I like milk and sugar in my coffee.” Sachie spun toward the refrigerator, yanked it open and grabbed the jug of milk from inside the door. When she returned to the coffeemaker, it had quit dripping. She yanked the pot out, sloshing hot coffee over her hand.

“Damn!” she muttered and shoved the pot back into the machine.

Teller was beside her in a second. He took thehand she’d burned with the hot liquid, led her to the sink and ran cold water over the burn.

All the while, he held her hand, and her pulse raced, her stomach fluttered and thoughts spun in her head. If she just moved away from him, she could rein all that confusion in and get her head on straight.

---