They’d sat on the porch swing watching fireflies, while listening to the cacophony of sounds from night creatures, and the radio on a nearby table was tuned to a station playing smooth jazz. She’d felt content, safe sitting with him in the darkness. Sharing dinner with their hosts in the backyard reminded her of the outings with her family whenever it cooled down enough to cook and eat outdoors. She knew Jacob had told his uncle about her plight when Ray reassured her she was in good hands, that it wasn’t the first time Jacob been entrusted to protect a witness. What she wanted to tell Ray was that not only was she a witness but also the target, but she’d promised herself that she wouldn’t permit herself to dwell on what was but what would be. The shooter would be caught, prosecuted and imprisoned for a long time. Dinner had become a festive affair with melt-in-the-mouth brisket and fall-off-the-bone ribs, savory potato salad, coleslaw and fluffy biscuits.
