The night hadn’t been a total wash, though, as a newer couple to the group, John and Jacob, were happy to announce their engagement and the night turned into a double celebration, adding to Lydia’s birthday party. Three new knitters had joined the festivities, as well. Annie had to hand it to her grandmother. Just as she’d told Josh, Ezzie had not only formed an entire community around the shop, she’d created a unique family of fiber crafters.
Annie turned the Open sign to Closed against the stained glass and locked up the store. She climbed the worn cherrywood steps to the apartment above the shop, running her hand along the timeworn banister. Silver Threads Yarn Shop was one of several businesses in downtown Silver Valley proper, but its Victorian architecture was rare. At some point it had been divided, and the other side had been remodeled into a dentist’s office, which it had remained until recently when a local had returned to Silver Valley after serving as an FBI agent in Washington, DC. She’d turned the dentist’s office into an outdoor adventure travel agency. It was especially busy this time of year, as groups of tourists came to the area to hike the AT, canoe the Susquehanna River and its tributaries, and enjoy day trips to surrounding attractions such as Gettysburg Battlefield and Hershey, Pennsylvania. Annie had met the owner, Abi Redland, only once but had liked her immediately. They were around the same age, she guessed.
Annie remembered when Ezzie had surprised her family by announcing she wanted to convert her library and living room into a yarn shop, move the kitchen upstairs and remodel the bedrooms, many empty, into an apartment. Annie marveled at her grandmother’s intelligence and, more importantly, her determination to make a life for herself after her beloved second husband of forty-five years had passed away suddenly, when Annie was in high school.
The roomy upstairs apartment had always been the perfect place for Annie to lick her psychological wounds, too. First when she’d broken up from an abusive boyfriend, during college. She’d only ever told her family the barest facts of her harrowing escape from the man who’d abused her regularly, who’d emotionally battered her until she was but a shell of the young woman who’d graduated high school with dreams of traveling the world and becoming an artist.
They all knew why she was on sabbatical this time, though, and supported her need to heal. And run her grandmother’s shop.
“Meow.” Ezzie’s cat greeted Annie at the door, wrapping his warm body around her ankles.
“Come here, Bubba.” She lifted the large orange tabby into her arms and was surprised that he didn’t try to claw his way out of her hug as she walked them both to the sofa and sat down. “Thank you, sweetness. I need a little TLC right now.”
Bubba purred as he rubbed his head along her chin. As she accepted his feline ministrations, she was reminded of the scary bruises on Kit’s jawline she’d spotted. Her stomach hardened at the brutal violence that she believed caused them. “We’re going to get that bastard and see that he’s locked up, aren’t we?”
Annie looked around the living room that was piled with various knitting and crochet projects, the baskets heaped with yarn, the doilies under each and every knickknack. Grandma Ezzie had managed to pack two lifetimes’ worth of stuff into the homey apartment. She wondered what she and her parents would do if Ezzie decided to stay in Florida for good. It would take months to clear the clutter.
It was “clutter” for many, but to Annie it was pure comfort. She set Bubba next to her on the sofa and stood. His tail twitched. “I’m going to make a cup of chamomile. Would you like a kitty snack?”
At the word snack, Bubba’s purr turned into an all-out drone. “You sound like you’re revving for the Indy 500, sweetie.”
Annie padded on bare feet into the kitchen and rummaged around in the cupboards for a tea bag and the aluminum pouch of cat nibbles. Two definite raps sounded on the apartment’s front door and she jumped, but then stilled, her heart calming along with her mind. All part of police training to help her ascertain if there was indeed a threat, or if raccoons were in the garbage bins out back again. Silence settled over the tiny kitchen. Nothing. Bubba twitched his tail from where he sat atop the table, and she shooed him off.
“I hope those cute raccoons aren’t back. They’re handsome, but we don’t want to risk rabies, right, Bubba?” She shook the kibble bag at him, ready to offer the cat his treat, but Bubba darted to the front door, tail held high.
Annie blinked. Pets never lied about something different going on, or about intruders. She made her way to the door as quietly as she could, and peered through the peephole.
The top of a head was all she could make out, but the shade of hair and approximate height of the person was all she needed. Before she opened the large wooden door, the person looked into the peephole and knocked, more loudly this time.
“Annie, it’s me, Kit. Please. I need you.”
* * *
Kit wasted no time telling Annie that she feared for her life and wanted Silver Valley PD protection. Annie didn’t think twice; she called Josh. She spoke to Josh from the privacy of her bedroom while Kit waited in the living room.
“Where is she now, Annie?” His concerned tone reached through the phone.
“Here, with me. I’m staying upstairs from the yarn shop, in my grandmother’s apartment.”
“I sent an officer to her house earlier today but we didn’t get very far. She denied all possible charges and Valensky did, too.”
“The officer’s visit probably triggered Valensky.”
“Yeah, not unusual. If she’s ready to move forward, though, I can have charges filed against him by tomorrow. Not sure how you do it at NYPD, but at SVPD, the police officer files the charges. It’s to protect the victim and to prevent the all-too-common dropping of charges by the same victim.”
“I understand. What should I do now, besides wait for you?”
“Stay put and I’ll be over as soon as I have Becky’s sitter come over. If I can’t make it within twenty minutes, I’ll send another officer. Keep her comfortable and take note of what she tells you. I guess I don’t have to tell you that. You’re a professional.”
“Got it. And, Josh? Thanks for picking up.”
* * *
“You did the right thing by coming to Annie’s.” Josh’s voice reverberated around Ezzie’s living room. She’d been back in touch with him for less than twenty-four hours, and yet he’d come when she’d called, agreed to help her with Kit’s situation. Annie wanted to act quickly since Kit could decide against telling the police everything at any moment. She’d reached out to Josh, hoping he’d send an officer right away. He did—himself. Annie’s shoulders immediately lowered as the tension left her. Josh could put the most feral cat at ease.
“Vadim will kill me if he finds out I told anyone. He was so angry when that cop showed up at the house today, asking questions.” Kit shivered under one of Ezzie’s hand-knit afghans.
“You don’t have to go back there. There’s a women’s shelter in Cumberland County, right, Josh?” Annie’s confidence in Josh and SVPD’s efficiency were boosted by Kit’s words. But Josh hadn’t told her that he’d sent someone to Valenskys’ house. Not that he reported to her.
Josh nodded. “Yes, there is, but to be honest I think Kit would be safer either staying here with you or going to a shelter in another state.” He gave Annie a meaningful look and mouthed the letters ROC. Of course. She should have thought of