Never Alone

Chapter 8

I wanted to give you two chapters today since Chapter 7 was so short.  Hope you are all having a wonderful week!

     Upon arrival at the apartment, Trevor let go of her hand and grabbed her by the shoulders. The imploring look in his eyes pulled her out of her mental fog and gained her full attention. "Annie, I want you to wait just outside the door while I check everything out. If it's safe I'll come get you. After ten minutes...if I haven't come for you...I need you to go straight to the police. Can you do that for me?"

Her vision blurred as she nodded her head. Soon, she was standing outside the door alone with silent tears falling. She prayed God would keep him safe...that he would come back for her.

The minutes slowly ticked by, and with each passing moment, her concern for Trevor grew. Checking her phone she saw that seven minutes had passed. Only three more before she would need to get the police...alone. Her heart pounded as more time elapsed. What if they killed Trevor too? She would be completely alone. Then Tracy's reminder of a month earlier brought peace to her troubled soul. "Draw night to God and he will draw nigh to you." She whispered the words aloud. No matter what happened, God would be with her...she would never truly be alone.

A hand gently brushed her arm, and she jumped at the sudden contact. When she saw Trevor in the doorway holding his hand out to her, she heaved a sigh as she gladly allowed him to guide her into the apartment. Shock hit her like a bolt of lightning when she saw the furniture overturned, drawers emptied, and papers strewn all over the living area.

"It wasn't like this earlier," she knit her brows in concern.

"They must have come back."

"I'm sure they were looking for the flash drive."

Trevor nodded in agreement. "We are alone now. Whoever ransacked the place realized it's not here. I called the police, and they should be here any minute."

Nodding, Annie stepped over a pile of broken dishes and reached for a box of crackers. Taking a handful, she ate them mindlessly while her eyes scanned the damage in front of her. The floral couch lay overturned on the floor. Was it only the night before she sat on that couch with Tracy watching movies and eating dinner? She truly believed the danger was passed last night. How was it possible for so much to change in just eighteen hours? One moment all was well, and the next...chaos.

In a daze, she stood with cracker box under her arm. Tears blurred her view of the couch, and she closed her eyes to block out the truth and live a moment longer in a place where she and Tracy still shared secrets, in a time where home was still a safe haven.

A tender hand on her arm drew her out of the idyllic paradise her mind fashioned and back to painful reality. "Annie," Trevor's touch still sent fire coursing through her veins even as her life lay in disarray at her feet. "The police are here. They need to ask you a few questions."

Nodding slowly, she swallowed the lump in her throat. Against her better judgment, she grabbed his hand. "Please don't leave me," she held onto him for dear life. "I-I don't think I can do this by myself."

"I'm not leaving you, Annie. I promise."

Reassured, she let him guide her to the living area, and for the first time, she saw the bustle of activity in the apartment. How had she missed all the collecting of evidence and taking of pictures before? A detective stood in the corner of the living room waiting for her; his notepad held at the ready in one hand, and a pen waited in the other.

"I'm Detective Mitch Solomon. Can I get your full name, Miss?" Something about the detective tied Annie's stomach in a knot. Deep lines were etched in his pale face, and his hazel eyes were cool and unfeeling; he reminded her of a snake. "Your name...please." He looked at her expectantly.

"Annie Turner," she finally said.

"And you are the one who found Miss McAllister?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you call us right away? You do realize we find this kind of thing very suspicious?"

"I thought I heard someone breaking into the apartment," her mind reeled at his thinly veiled accusation. "I was scared that whoever did this to her was coming back for me."

"And why would you think someone was coming for you?" His eyes bored holes into her soul and his nostrils flared.

"Because..." her words were cut short at the recollection of Tracy's mistrust of nearly everyone. There was a name and address on the flash drive, and her friend emphatically told her the name she would find in one of the files belonged to the only person on which she should rely.

"Because-?" the detective prompted with a hungry glint in his eye.

"Because I watch too many scary movies," she hoped that would be convincing enough. "Isn't that what normally happens...a psycho kills one friend and comes back later for the other?"

He eyed her narrowly with pursed lips. She had no trouble imaging a forked tongue darting in and out of his narrow mouth. "Did you move anything, or did you learn not to do that from television?"

Trevor stepped between the detective and herself. His muscular, imposing frame dwarfed Mitch Solomon by comparison. "Look...Mitch...she's been through enough, and frankly, your questioning technique is a little unorthodox. I suggest you ask what needs to be asked and finish this investigation, so we can start cleaning up."

Clearly, Solomon did not appreciate being told how to do his job, but with Trevor bristled like a badger and ready to stand up for Annie, he swallowed hard and thought better of his line of questioning. With arms still folded across his chest, Trevor stepped aside to allow any more inquiries the detective found necessary.

Despite the turmoil in the apartment and the residual fear in her mind, her heart warmed toward Trevor. He protected her, stood up for her when she was in no state of mind to take up her own defense.

"Miss Turner," Solomon continued. "Did Miss McAllister have any enemies that you know of?"

Suddenly, her friend's desire for secrecy made sense. She could honestly say, "None that I know of." Her eyes burned. While she didn't understand at the time, Tracy really was protecting her by holding so much information back. The realization was like a last, loving gift from the friend she would never forget.

"That's all I've got," the detective closed his notebook. "Looks like the team is finished. We'll be in touch."

When the crime scene investigators left with their equipment, and the medical examiner removed Tracy's body from the bedroom, Annie was left alone with Trevor and her dark, swirling thoughts. What was she supposed to do now? How could she stay here? This place would never offer her the promise of safety again.

"Hey," Trevor's thumb stroking her cheek brought her abruptly out of the haze surrounding her. "Why don't you pack a bag with clothes and whatever else you might need. We shouldn't say here."

"But...where will I go?"

"You're coming to my place. We'll be safe there, and we can take a look at the flash drive."

Her first impulse was to refuse his offer of a place to stay. "No, I'll get a hotel. I'm not your responsibility."

"If you get a hotel, I'll just end up sleeping outside the door...I'm not leaving you alone, Annie. Like it or not, we'll be better as a team than on our own."

Knowing he was right, she nodded in agreement and went to pack an overnight bag. Before closing the door behind her, she took one final look around the messy room. Her mind replayed fond memories made with Tracy. Would she live to see this place again? Did she have the strength and wisdom it would take to finish what her friend started? As she slowly shut the door and locked it, she prayed for the grace to do what needed to be done and the protection she would need from her unknown enemy.