Saved by the Blizzard: A romantic winter thriller (Tellure Hollow Book 2) Read Free

Bryan stepped in and saved us. Look,” I said presenting my various wounds as proof.
    The cop stepped around the counter. “I’m sure we can clear all this up, but I’m gonna have to put you in one of the cells, alright? Am I gonna have to use these?” he asked putting his hand on the cuffs at his hip.
    “Come on, this is ridiculous!” I screeched.
    Bryan ran his tongue along the edge of his teeth and shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I’ll follow you.” I looked at him incredulously.
    “Is there anyone you want me to call?” said Officer Dylan.
    “Actually, Liz,” he said, finally turning to me, “could you call Walt for me? Let him know what’s happened.” It broke my heart to see such a mixture of unease and anger there, especially after the warmth of the previous night. “I don’t know what good it’ll do, but I feel like he should know. Other than you, he’s the only person I know in this town that can help.”
    Choking back tears of anger, I nodded. “Yeah, I’ll go over right now. He lives above the shop right?” Bryan gave me a tight smile as the cop put his hand on his shoulder and started to lead him away. “Wait!” I cried. “Can’t I just...”
    Dylan almost rolled his eyes but took a step back. “Honey, I’m not executing him or anything, but since it’s Christmas...”
    I rushed forward and wrapped my arms around his neck, squeezing him as tightly as I could. I quickly nuzzled my face into his neck and breathed in his scent. “I’ll get help, okay? I have money to post bail. Don’t worry.”
    He pushed me away and looked earnestly into my eyes. “Don’t you dare use that money. I’ll be fine, just call Walt. Here,” he said handing me the keys to his truck. “I’m sorry.”
    I stood and watched as Bryan was led down the hall and out of sight, deciding that out of all the days in my life, this was definitely the strangest.
     
    ——————
    “Come on,” I grumbled to the ringing phone. I’d been trying Walt for ten minutes and he still hadn’t picked up. I felt weird about leaving Bryan at the station but knew I had to get help. I grunted in frustration and jammed the key into the ignition, but paused just short of turning it over.
    There were so many things going on at once. Rick was still out there, possibly hurt. Would the policeman sent to get him be in danger? Should I go inside and warn Dylan? We hadn’t imparted how dangerous Rick actually was. Should I call Bryan’s mom or something? Someone in his family must care if he’s in trouble, right?
    I slammed my hands against the steering wheel. “One thing at a time, Liz. Go get Walt.” The pep talk did enough good to turn the key and get the truck into reverse. I consoled myself with the fact that the store was less than five minutes away. I’m not going far .
    I’d expected something like this to happen. Not Bryan getting arrested exactly or Rick appearing with a shotgun, but something . Anytime I find a bit of happiness and contentment in my life, something comes along and turns it to shit. An inevitable condition of being Liz Croyden, apparently. Maybe that makes me bitter, but I can only work with what life has given me.
    The main street was completely deserted, of course, close to 11 a.m. on Christmas morning. All the kids would be unwrapping presents, parents sipping coffee, the magic of the morning just unfurling across the sleepy town. I swung the truck in front of the shop, disregarding all the parking spots. There was a little door just to the side of the main entrance that looked like it led to the apartment above. With no doorbell or name, I pounded my fists on the cold wood until I heard movement inside, specifically someone swearing up a storm as they shuffled down the stairs.
    The old man whipped the door open ready to shout. He wore a battered, patchy blue bathrobe and thick slippers, his hair a disheveled mess. I cut him off before he could start his tirade.
    “Are you Walt?” I