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“Hey, Ty. You doing all right?”
I nodded.
Trey walked over to Ray. “Did you take care of what I asked you to?”
“Sure thing,” Ray answered. “Here you go,” he said, handing something to Trey. “I’ll keep my key on my personal key ring. No one else will have access to it—as you requested.”
“Thanks Ray.”
Ray turned back to me. “Mrs. Johnson is expecting you tomorrow morning at 9, Ty, at the main office. I think she has a special assignment for you. Hopefully, you won’t be too bored.”
“Got it,” I said. “I’ll be there, don’t worry, Ray.”
We exchanged smiles and Ray took off to his truck.
“You’ll like Rebecca,” Trey commented. “She and Ray are probably my two most trusted employees. I know my parents feel the same way.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Rebecca—Mrs. Johnson,” Trey clarified. “If I know her, you won’t be calling her ‘Mrs. Johnson’ for long. She doesn’t go in for a lot of formality and pretense. That’s why I know you'll like her.” He gave me another one of his award-winning grins, and placed his right arm around my shoulders.
“C’mon you,” he said, softly, “Let me walk you to your cottage. I want to make sure everything is secure and that you get settled in for the night.”
“It’s not even dark yet, Trey,” I protested. “I’m not ready to call the day over.”
“I don’t want to either, Tylar,” he said gently, “but I’ve got work to do this evening reviewing the case before the trial starts on Tuesday. Then I have to pack, shower, and all that good stuff. Plus,” he continued, squeezing me closer as we made our way up the path to the cottages, “I want a few minutes alone with you before I go. I want to make sure I give you a proper goodbye.”
My stomach butterflies were swarming. My cheeks were warm and flushed. We arrived at the cottage and Trey fished in his pocket pulling out the two keys that Ray had given him. He handed one of the keys to me. “Put this on your key chain,” he instructed, “and pitch the old one.”
I nodded. “What about the extra key?” I asked, nodding toward the one in his hand.
He grinned at me. “I thought you might feel safer if I held onto it, just in case.”
“In case what?” I asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
“In case you lose yours or something,” he frowned at me, feigning insult that I could think anything other than honorable thoughts about him. He was a complicated man, I thought. It didn't bother me a bit him having a key. He owned the place. As far as I was concerned, Trey had a right to anything here, with the exception of any otherwomanapart from me. I looped my arms around his neck and stood on my tiptoes, kissing his mouth.
“Oh no—you can and will do better than that, Ms. Preston,” he laughed, chasing me up the couple of steps onto the porch. I struggled from his grasp, playfully, and then saw that a small shopping bag had been hung on my doorknob.
“Hmm, looks like someone left me a gift,” I teased. “Is that why you wanted to escort me to my cottage Mr. Sinclair?” I asked coquettishly. “You do spoil me, don’t you?”
Trey’s facial expression had lost the amusement of just a moment ago.
“That’s not from me Tylar,” he said, his tone serious.
I tried to lighten the mood; I wasn't into getting creeped out again after having spent such a wonderful, calm day with my man. “I’m sure it’s probably just some tacky Fred-X of Follywood underwear from Jenna.”
I opened the screen door, and lifted the shopping bag off of the doorknob. I held the bag open and saw a small pile of plum silk material. I unfolded the articles of clothing, holding them up. Suddenly I recognized them. The realization hit me hard. Oh my God. I remembered them from my dream. It was the silk pajama shorts that were ripped off of my 13-year-old body; the matching camisole was in the bag too. It had been cut in half. That part wasn't in my dream. There was a typed note on a piece of paper pinned to the camisole. It read:
I believe these belong to you, Sissy.
“Oh my God!” I screamed hysterically, flinging the bad down. Trey’s arms were around me in an instant. The hysterical voice that was yelling “don’t touch me, let me go” couldn’t possibly be mine could it? I felt strong arms around me, lifting me, trying to calm me. Suddenly, Clint came running up on the porch. Did Clint think that I needed help? Trey’s voice was in my ear.
“Stop fighting me Tylar, for Christ’s sake, it’s me. It’s Trey!” He handed Clint my key. “Open the door so I can get her inside,” Trey instructed.
Clint made no move to do it. He was sizing up the situation.
“Clint for Christ’s sake, it’snot meshe’s afraid of. Open the fucking door before we have the whole compound down on us!”
