Saving Grace (Available in paperback and eBook-SAMPLE)

Chapter 5

Another chapter for you all. I promise I am working hard on the next chapter for "Forgive". I'm hoping to have it up this weekend. Thanks for your support. I appreciate it.

Later that day found Matt sitting on a hard plastic chair outside the chief's office. Across from him the secretary, a pretty woman he guessed to be somewhere in her mid thirties, was sitting at her computer, typing up something for the chief.

Occasionally, she would glance his way. He ignored her. His mind was on Grace and the look of fear that had crossed her face as he was leaving. For a brief moment, he had been tempted to stay with her, but his promise to drop by the station prevented him from giving in to the temptation. Besides, she was in capable hands. The officer that was guarding her could handle anything that came up.

Tired of sitting he rose to his feet. At that moment, the chief's door opened and a uniformed officer walked out into the reception area. His hazel eyes swept over Matt, and he sneered. Matt raised an eyebrow in question, but remained silent.

"Matthew, you can come in now," Chief Fletcher said from the doorway. "Please, hold my calls, Jennifer."

"Yes, sir," the secretary said.

Matt strolled past the officer and into the chief's office. "Grace sends her love."

"I take it her guard is in place for the night," Chief Fletcher said, shutting the door behind him.

"Of course, but there's been a slight change in plans. Grace asked that the officer stay in the house with her."

"That's probably for the best." The older man moved around his desk and motioned for Matt to take a seat.

Matt tossed the plastic bag on the desk and then sat down. "I put them in a bag to preserve any evidence, not that there will be any, but it's best to err on the side of caution."

"Yes, it is." The chief settled behind his large cluttered desk and picked up the bag. He studied the rose and note for several seconds before placing the bag on a stack of files on the corner of his desk. "I'll have someone pick it up. I tell you, Matthew, this slime ball has me seeing red. When I think of what he's doing to Grace, I get so angry. Cheryl keeps telling me I need to calm down and that it's not good for me to get all worked up."

"She's right, sir."

Chief Fletcher smirked. "I know she is, but I'll never admit it to her."

There was a brief pause in the conversation. Matt stared at the wall as he thought about what to say next. "Sir, the officer that was leaving as I came in-"

"Mitch Reynolds," the chief snarled. "He's Grace's ex-husband."

"I see." His eyes grew hard. "What did he want?"

"He wanted to talk about Grace." Chief Fletcher sat back in his chair. "He heard what happened to her and wanted to know why I didn't call and let him know about it. I told him to cut the crap. He doesn't give a damn about her and the baby. If he did he wouldn't have walked out on her." He paused. "He also learned that you're her bodyguard. That didn't sit well with him."

"What does he have against me?" Matt inquired. "Hell, I never even met the man."

"He claims he heard somethings about you through the grapevine and he doesn't like the idea of you guarding his unborn child. Don't pay attention to him. He's just angry that he's not the one calling the shots. He's the type of man that always has to be in control."

Matt realized that the more he knew about Mitch Reynolds the less he liked the man.

At a quarter till eight, the next morning, Matt pulled into Grace's driveway. He parked behind her car, reached for his jacket from the passenger seat, and got out. Shrugging into the jacket, he made his way across the yard and up the steps.

Without bothering to ring the doorbell, he let himself into the house. The smell of coffee and bacon wafted on the air. He headed to the kitchen, where he found Grace and the officer, whose name was Carter Harrison, sitting at the table eating breakfast. He wished them both a good morning and made a beeline for the coffee pot.

"Morning'," Officer Harrison said in between bites.

"Good morning," Grace said softly.

"How did it go last night?" Matt asked, pouring him a cup of coffee.

"It went fine," she answered, pushing back her chair. She stood and carried her plate and glass to the sink, placing them carefully inside. "Let me take my vitamins and then I'll be ready to go."

"Take your time," Matt told her.

"Thank you for last night, Carter," Grace said to the officer, pausing on her way out of the room.

"No problem," he muttered. "Thanks for breakfast."

"You're welcome."

"How did it really go last night?" Matt asked once Grace had left the kitchen.

"She had a rough night." Officer Harrison rose from his chair and picked up his plate and coffee cup. He took them to the sink and placed them on top of Grace's dishes.

"Nightmares?"

"Bad ones," the officer sighed. "She was up and down most of the night." He checked his watch and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I've got to get some sleep."

"Get out of here," Matt told him. "I'll take ever now." He leaned against the counter and took a sip of coffee. "Be here at seven."

"Got it," Officer Harrison said over his shoulder as he was leaving.

While he waited on Grace, Matt sipped his coffee and gazed at his surroundings. The kitchen was small and uncluttered with white walls and a hardwood floor. A round table and four chairs sat in the middle of the room. There was no color and he couldn't help but think that the room lacked warmth and character. It was, he thought, very different from Liza's sunny, warm kitchen.

"I'm ready to go," Grace announced from the doorway.

Matt turned his head and looked at her. She was wearing a pale blue blouse, black slacks, and pumps. Her hair was up in a ponytail and she had applied makeup in an effort to hide her bruises. She wasn't wholly successful. Her black eye shone through. Yet in his eyes, she was lovely. He put his cup in the sink, unplugged the coffee maker, and followed her out to the car.

"Is there a reason why you're wearing a jacket in warm weather?" Grace asked in the car, several minutes later.

"There is," he answered, backing out of the driveway and onto the street.

"You have a gun under that jacket, don't you?" she asked quietly.

"Just never you mind what's under the jacket," Matt uttered in a calm voice. He heard her sigh. "All right. Yes, I have a gun on me. Did you honestly think I wouldn't be armed?" He didn't give her time to answer. "I like to be prepared in case something should happen. Relax. The students won't know I have one. I'll keep it out of sight. I'm not one for announcing to the world that I have a gun."

"I'm sorry," she said. "It's just that I don't like guns. They make me nervous."

Matt frowned at her admission. "Did you have a bad experience with a gun?"

"I'd rather not talk about it," Grace mumbled.

Matt wanted to demand that she answer the question, but he didn't. He had a feeling nothing he said would get her to open up. "Have it your way."