He just wants you alone so he can isolate you even more, whispered a dark little voice in her head, as she said goodbye to Selena and saw her out the front door to the waiting minivan. So he can hit you without worrying about anybody seeing the marks he leaves.
Unfortunately, the voice was probably right, Mia acknowledged as she waved sadly at Selena’s mom, who gave her a nervous nod from the safe confines of the minivan. She might have come in to talk and commiserate on Mia’s new “diagnosis,” but Hank’s police cruiser was parked in the driveway, and nobody wanted to get crosswise with Sheriff Rogan. He was the law here in Crate’s Corners and he was known to have a quick temper.
All her married life, Mia had lived in Crate’s Corners, a tiny little nowhere of a town in the Florida panhandle. Hank had moved them there shortly after they had married, right out of high school. Ostensibly they had moved because there was an opening for a sheriff’s deputy but Mia sometimes wondered if the long move from her hometown of Beaumont, Texas, hadn’t been the first step in Hank’s plan to isolate her and completely dominate her life.
In that, he hadn’t succeeded—at least, not until recently. The reason he hadn’t been able to “keep Mia all to himself” until now was simple—because Mia’s best friend, Kaylee Winston wouldn’t let him.
Mia had met Kaylee at the Twin Oaks shopping mall soon after she and Hank had taken up residence in Crate’s Corners. Like most malls, it was dying, but it still had a Music Gallery that sold all kinds of instruments, including organs and pianos.
Back then, Hank hadn’t been quite so relentlessly possessive as he grew later in their marriage. He had been shopping for some new work shoes and when Mia asked to go inside the Music Gallery and have a look around, he had thrown up his hands.
“Fine—never could understand why you were so crazy for music, but whatever floats your boat.” He had looked in the store, making certain that the clerk on duty was a woman and not a man, and then pointed a finger at Mia. “Stay here though, understand? And I better not catch you talking to any strangers when I get back!”
By “strangers” Mia knew he meant “strange men” so she nodded eagerly. She was shy by nature and nothing much to look at, being both too plump and too plain—at least, that was what Hank was always telling her—so she didn’t worry about attracting male attention.
“Yes, honey, I’ll stay right here,” she’d said submissively—which was just the right tone to use with Hank when she wanted to do something on her own.
Hank almost never approved of solo activities for her, because they might “get her into trouble.” Though what trouble she could get into going to the grocery store or the post office by herself, Mia had never figured out. It probably had to do with men looking at her. Even though Hank told her constantly how plain she was and how she needed to lose weight, he was insanely jealous if any other man so much as glanced her way.
Mia could never understand his concern. She would never cheat—it just wasn’t in her nature. And if she was so fat and ugly, why would men look at her anyway? But Hank seemed to think that every man on the planet was out to screw his wife—he would have had her walking around with a paper bag over her head, if it had been socially acceptable!
At any rate, this was still early in their marriage and so Mia had been allowed to go into the Music Gallery on her own and look at the instruments while Hank went on down to the men’s Shoe Emporium.
Hoping he would be gone a long time, Mia spent some time looking at the acoustic and electric guitars hanging on the walls. But she couldn’t be kept from her first love for long. Soon she found herself at the back of the store, stroking the ivories of a perfectly gorgeous baby grand piano and wishing she dared to try it out.
“Do you play?” The store clerk’s voice in her ear was so unexpected, it made Mia jump and give out a little scream.
“Oh!” she gasped, pressing a hand to her drumming heart.
“Sorry!” The clerk was a woman about Mia’s age with luscious blonde locks, unlike Mia’s own mousy brown hair. Her big blue eyes scanned Mia’s face anxiously. “I didn’t mean to scare you! You’re not having a heart attack or anything, are you?” she asked with a worried look on her pretty face.
“Oh no—no, I’m fine.” Mia gave her a tight little smile. As an introvert, talking to strangers was never easy for her.