Chapter Twenty-four

Abbey wiped the diner counter with the ragged, soapy cloth.  The breakfast rush had just wrapped up.  The lunch crowd would arrive soon.  It was the calm before the storm.

The sound of the door chime caught Abbey’s attention.  A young delivery boy stood at the door, a large package wrapped in brown paper and twine cradled in his arms.  Abbey glanced around him to the bicycle that waited for him.  How did he travel with such a large package on his bike?

“How can I help you?” Abbey greeted.

“I have a delivery for Abigail O’ Riley,” the boy answered.  He balanced the box in one arm as he brushed the stray snowflakes from his close cropped brown hair.

The name caught Abbey quick.  Not many knew her by that name.  “I’m Abigail.”

The boy sat the package on the counter silently.  Bewildered, Abbey dug a couple of dollars from the tips in her pocket an handed them to the delivery boy.  With a quick thanks, the boy dashed out the door, hopped on his bike and rode away.

“Who’s it from?” a deep voice boomed from the kitchen.

Abbey turned to find Barker standing in the doorway between the kitchen and dining room.  She shrugged.  “I don’t know.”

“Well, open it,” Barker encouraged.

Abbey searched beneath the counter until she came across a pair of scissors.  She snipped the twine and peeled it from the box.  She cut the paper free then opened the lid of the box.

Nestled between the folds of tissue paper was a black and white Spyder ski jacket.  On top of the jacket sat a folded piece of paper.

Only one person who knew where she was could give her such an expensive jacket.  And would call her Abbey O’ Riley.  Her fingers trembled as she picked up the note and opened it.

“Dearest Abigail, I hope you’ll reconsider my offer.  Regardless if you do or not, the jacket you were wearing yesterday afternoon is too thin for these brutal winters.  Please accept my humble gift.  Yours forever, Sloan.”

Abbey let go a shaking breath.  She jumped as Barker’s voice appeared over her shoulder.

“So who’s it from?” Barker repeated.

“Nobody,” Abbey muttered.

“Abbey, wearing that coat in this neighborhood isn’t a good idea.  It’s worth some cash.  You could get hurt.”

Abbey looked out the diner window where the delivery boy just rode off on his bike.  Across the street sat the Hummer lying in wait.  Abbey thought for moment.  The past few days she caught glimpses of the vehicle whenever she left her apartment day or night.  She sighed.

“I don’t think I’m going to have a problem, Barker.”


About triciaandersen

I am the author and illustrator of the children's book "The Peculiar Princess". I am also the author of two adult fantasy romance novels, "The Sorceress of Savon" and "The Woodcutter King of Muladin". Along with being an author I am married to a wonderful guy and have three beautiful children. I coach youth track and field, sew and chase my children around to their various activities.

Posted on May 30, 2012, in author, books, fiction, novel, romance, story, Uncategorized, writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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