Danger In The Shadows (12 page)

Sara looked around at the families watching their children as the first team came up to bat.

“If you don’t mind my asking, why exactly did Adam miss church this morning?”

Sara winced. “He had a houseguest who overslept.” She expected to see some censure in Mary Beth’s eyes, but her look was too complex for that.

“Are you okay?”

Sara wasn’t sure how to answer.

Mary Beth nodded to her left. “I know you travel with security. I also know Adam made rather a mess of it when he tried to see you. Did something happen yesterday?”

In that instant Sara understood. Adam didn’t have ladies overnight at his place, and if asked, would more than likely admit that he never had before. Mary Beth knew that, so for Sara to have spent the night at Adam’s condo meant some reason other than the obvious one. “We were talking quite late and I fell asleep.”

“He’s a good man to talk to. He isn’t quick to offer a solution until he’s heard the full story.”

“I noticed that,” Sara agreed.

“Please, tell me you passed on his offer of an omelet this morning. He likes to add a few green chilis to his.”

“They were red this morning. My brother brought over muffins from the local bakery.”

“Your brother?”

Sara nodded back toward Dave, surprised Mary Beth didn’t know.

“Oh. I had no idea your brother was part of your security detail.”

“He’s been with the FBI for a long time now. I have to admit I’m grateful. On the occasions a silent alarm trips and I get hurtled to the floor, it’s not quite so bad when it’s your brother doing the tackling.”

“Does he like working for the FBI?”

“Let’s just say they like the fact he works for them.” Her brother had received so many offers both from other agencies and individuals that his personnel jacket was flagged red during every review. He was one of the best, and it was a well-known fact among his peers. Dave stayed only as long as he remained head of her security detail, as long as she was in danger.

Sara wished she could release Dave from the burden he carried, the awful feeling that it had been his fault he had been unable to stop the men. As it was, they had shoved him away so forcefully he had broken his wrist in the fall.

“All right, Peter! That’s the way to hit the ball!” Mary Beth’s son had just knocked a single down toward third base. Given the throwing and catching skills the boys were still learning to develop, Peter made it to first base safely.

Sara grinned as she realized Adam was also on his feet, calling encouragement from the dugout. Peter was leaning over listening to the first-base coach, his face showing his thrill at having gotten on base.

It was a lively and enjoyable game. As kids struck out, they were consoled by teammates; as good hits were made, everyone called their congratulations. She added her voice, longing for someday to be at a game where it was her own son or daughter on the field.

Sara loved watching Adam. He was in the middle of things, often handing out gloves and bats, adjusting caps, earnestly listening.

Mary Beth’s girls came to join Sara, shy but wanting to get her attention. She shifted her attention to them, hoping to form a friendship. They were beautiful girls, one six, the other nine. Sara made up stories for the dolls they had brought.

When the game was over and Peter’s team had won by managing to hold on to a one-run lead, Adam came over to where the women sat, carrying an equipment bag. He stopped behind Sara as she sat at the picnic table sharing a sandwich with his sister.

He rested one hand on the table beside her. “How are you doing?”

He was grinning and could tell she wanted to grin back, but she kept looking around, too conscious of the eyes watching them. “I liked the game.”

“That’s good. It’s a requirement of my dates that they like sports.”

“It’s a requirement of mine that they not embarrass me.”

“That would clearly not be to my benefit.” He slid his hands across her shoulders, gently ruffling the back of her hair. Sara had managed to do it again, look casually elegant. With her chestnut hair and deep blue eyes, emerald was a perfect color for her. She looked vibrantly alive.

Adam had watched her today as she sat talking with Mary Beth. If the laughter was any indication, they were forming a friendship. He was glad. He needed Sara to fit in with his family. He didn’t let himself question why it was so important to him this early in their relationship. It mattered.

Sara eased her head back against his arms to look up at him. “Adam?”

He smiled down at her, wondering if he could steal another kiss. “Hmm?”

“I hear there is a tradition of taking the team out for ice cream after the game.”

“There is.”

“I want a double-decker chocolate-and-pecan crunch on a waffle cone.”

“That’s pretty pricey for just a date.”

The palm of her hand flattened against his sweaty shirt.

Adam grinned. “Do I get a taste of the waffle cone?”

“When I’m done with it,” Sara replied, leaving him to infer what she was offering.

Adam’s smile widened and he grasped her hand. “Come on, Sara, we have fifteen boys to collect.”

The ice cream shop was two blocks away, across from the local high school. Since it was tradition that the team went there after a game, it was a fairly easy task to make sure everyone was accounted for.

Jordan and Mary Beth joined them with the girls. Peter was up ahead with his teammates.

Adam settled his group of five boys at one of the outdoor tables. He came back carrying ice cream for Sara, Dave, and himself.

Sara looked surprised at his personal choice. “Just vanilla?”

“The bottom is butter rum.” He laughed at her grimace.

It was a warm day and the ice cream grew increasingly hard to eat as it melted inside the waffle cone.

Adam was laughing as he watched her finish her cone.

Her hands sticky, Sara couldn’t push her hair back as it fluttered in the breeze. Adam brushed it back for her and handed her several napkins.

“Messy choice.”

She wrinkled her nose at him as she wiped her hands.

The kids were focused on their own ice cream cones so he leaned over to whisper, “Do I get that kiss now?”

Sara thought about it, then put her hand on his arm. He lowered his head to meet hers.

“Butter rum doesn’t taste too bad.”

For those murmured words, he kissed her again.

It wasn’t a flash, it was the click of a shutter. A split second later Dave hit Sara with a shoulder in her side that sent her careening to the left.

The photographer was a high school girl, ten feet away, the camera still raised in her hands, looking stunned at the response.

“Dave, easy. She sometimes covers local events for the high school newspaper. That’s all,” Adam said forcefully, stepping in front of Dave, facing him. Dave clearly wanted that film.

“Cool down. I’ve signed several pictures for her photo album over the years. Don’t blow one more snapshot for her album out of proportion. Let it go. Okay? Let it go.”

“Sara?”

She nodded her head slightly, indicating her vote.

“Adam, we leave now, nothing said. Who can watch the boys for you?” Dave asked tersely.

Frank was nearby; Adam gestured him over. Very few people had actually seen what had transpired, for that Adam was grateful.

They walked back to the park, Dave a few paces ahead.

Adam reached over to take Sara’s hand. He could feel her tension but didn’t understand it. The picture would make a scrapbook and maybe a summer school paper. That was all. Yet Sara and Dave were leaps ahead of him imagining the worst. Adam didn’t understand why and he desperately needed to.

When they reached his building, good-byes with Sara were stilted at best. Adam wanted to reassure her everything would be fine, but the look in her eyes as she turned toward him told him it wasn’t.

“Adam, call me tomorrow,” she requested softly.

When Adam called her the next evening, Sara was working, sketching in an artist’s notepad. She tucked the receiver against her shoulder. “Hello, Adam.”

“How are you doing tonight?”

“I’ve been better.” She propped her knee up so she could steady the notepad. She had not gone into work today. Her fear of that photograph was stronger than Dave’s. It was a current picture, and if Dave had happened to be in the photograph as well as Adam, it was a piece of evidence she dreaded. Had the girl learned her full name?

Sara didn’t regret the decision not to take the film. It had been the appropriate one. The girl wouldn’t have understood. And she could have made an issue of it that would have attracted more attention than the photograph risk was worth. What she did regret was that she agreed to be in a public setting where such a picture could be taken.

It was a waiting game to learn if any damage had been done. Sara could only hope for the best. In the meantime, she was doing the one proactive thing she could—push her memory to release the man’s image.

“How are you doing, Adam?”

“I can understand why a picture is such a risk, but I’ve got a long way to go before I understand a situation the same way you and Dave do. Just how serious a threat is what happened?”

Sara spun her pencil in her hand. They didn’t know if their adversary was willing to work with others. So far, they had no evidence he was using private detectives to aid in his search. His pattern was one of arrogance. He wanted, needed, to be the one in control. That pattern was clear from his original negotiations to his frequent packages still taunting them to find him. They were relying on that fact now to limit his ability to scan for such a small school newspaper.

“It’s very slim. But the rationale is simple: Deny him any information and he can’t locate me. The last time security broke down, I was living in New York under a different name. We eventually traced the source of his discovery of my location to a news clip at a bookstore, where I happened to be one of the Christmas shoppers passing by in the background. Dave got shot in that eventual encounter. We have to worry about the small things. Patterns of movements. Any contact with people we think he can tie to me. Pictures, obviously.”

Sara flipped to a clean sheet of paper and began another sketch. “I’ve had a peaceful life here in Chicago because he hasn’t been able to trace me.”

“Then we should have retrieved the film.”

“Not necessarily. To do so risked making a bigger news story. Dave and I are used to being extra paranoid, okay? In a week, the risk will be past. He’s not a man to use others to help him. If he were, the situation would be different.”

“I’m sorry I caused this.”

“I made the decision to go to the game, Adam, not you. Dave and I are both intimately aware of the risks involved in any public appearance.” The conversation was awkward and Sara hated that. “I really enjoyed getting the chance to meet your sister.”

“Mary Beth echoed that.”

Sara was grateful the tension in his voice had eased. They spoke for another twenty minutes. When Sara finally set down the phone, her frustration spilled over in the way she shoved aside the pillows. What did she say? What
could
she say?
Adam, I’m petrified?

That’s what she was. Petrified. And as she curled into a ball, hugging her knees close to her chest, she wondered if she would ever be anything else.

C
HAPTER
9

D
ays passed, then a week, two weeks. Sara went back to work, determined by the end of the month to finish the children’s book she was creating. She spoke with Adam frequently by phone but refused his invitations out. One scare was enough.

She had to commend him for his persistence. He called every night. It was embarrassing how much she looked forward to those phone calls. They didn’t talk about anything profound.

Books. Adam was an avid reader. The twelve years of constant travel and living in hotel rooms had resulted in a lifestyle where reading a new book was part of his normal evening. He preferred techno thrillers and suspense novels. Since he didn’t know she wrote as H. Q. Victor, and Sara had no intention of telling him due to the security policy she had with her brother, she had to be careful in how she voiced her opinions of books they had both read. She liked to take stories apart and see how they worked. Adam was good at finding new, talented authors.

Sports. Sara was becoming very conversant about football and baseball news. She never liked to be ignorant in any subject she deemed important—even her children’s books were carefully researched—so she had been doing her sports homework, much to Dave’s amusement as she pestered him with questions while they ate dinner. She had to be prepared for the phone call with Adam later that evening.

They rarely talked about work during those calls. Long hours at the office appeared to be the norm for them both. They avoided bringing it into their time off.

Sara shuffled colored pencils in her hand. She was at the drawing table in her office, working on the final colors for a sketch. It was almost complete.

She couldn’t find her lilac soft-lead pencil. She sorted through the ones that had accumulated on her desk. She was going to have to take a day off to clean this office and put everything back in place. The supplies wandered with her over time until she got to the point where she couldn’t find anything.

She finally found the pencil she sought.

Sara picked up her teacup. Empty. Again. She set down the cup, annoyed.

She looked up when she heard a familiar four-tap knock on the door. Dave came in and Sara was startled to see Adam behind him.

“What are you two doing here?”

“We brought lunch,” Adam replied, as if that explained everything.

Dave looked over the drawing. “Nice dolphin.”

“Where do you want it?” Adam asked.

Sara gestured to the open work space by the window. “There, I guess.” Adam looked great. She followed his movements with artist’s eyes and longed to sketch a portrait.

Several times in the past two weeks, Adam had tried to convince her to come to his office and join him for lunch. She always refused the invitations for security reasons. For the same reason, she turned down his suggestion that he come over here. She didn’t want them seen together, not in the building where they both worked. Obviously Dave had decided to override her decision. Sara couldn’t say she minded. She had missed Adam.

Dave settled onto the stool beside her. “I’m releasing you back to level two security. So what do you want to do for a night out?”

Adam answered for her. “Go to a movie with me.” He handed over a hot egg roll.

Sara accepted the food but protested the decision. “I already told you no.”

“That was yesterday. You haven’t said no today.”

She had to finish a bite before she could reply. She had skipped breakfast and it was past two o’clock. “No. I don’t want to go to a movie.”

“Sara,
I
want to go to a movie,” Dave inserted. “I would rather not leave you at the house with a security detail. So say yes to the man and let me set it up.”

The laughter in Dave’s voice was just below the surface. Sara looked from her brother to Adam back to Dave again and knew what it felt like to be pressured. They were the two guys in her life. It didn’t give her much maneuvering room. “Give me one good reason why I should say yes.”

“I’ll give you two,” Adam replied easily. “Steven Spielberg and homemade pizza. My dad’s recipe,” he added for good measure. “Just tell me what you like on it.”

Sara was going to lose this debate. There were some things she just knew. She gave in gracefully. “Italian sausage and black olives.”

“Good. Now that that’s settled, which do you want for lunch? Sweet-and-sour chicken or Hunan beef?”

Sara turned on her stool. “How about some of both?”

“Good choice.” Adam handed her a plate.

“Thanks.” She ate lunch, enjoying every minute of the break. “So what were you two doing when you had this brilliant brainstorm?”

“Playing basketball. I won.” Dave grinned.

“You only won because I let you,” Adam qualified. “I felt sorry for him, Sara. I had taken the last six games.”

“We’ll settle this on the court tomorrow and see who’s right.”

Sara grinned at them sparring back and forth. She had really missed this. Only guys related this way. “Can I come and watch?”

“No!” It came from both of them at the same time.

Sara’s grin widened. It was so obvious. They were each protecting the other, like good friends did. Guys’ egos were so fragile.

She turned her attention to a more pressing problem. “Do I have to dress up for this date?”

Going out to a movie was actually one of the safer public outings for Dave to arrange. She would slip in the back row of the theater just before the movie began, then leave by a side exit when the movie was over.

They met at the service entrance behind a local theater at quarter to seven. Adam waited at the doorway with a jacket slung over his arm. Sara had spent the rest of the afternoon anticipating the chance to spend the evening with him. Now that she was out in public, some of that anticipation was being washed away by fear.

She frowned. She was determined to enjoy tonight. She was safe. God hadn’t changed. Hadn’t she read in Psalm 3 just that morning that the Lord was a shield about her? The only reason fear was finding a toehold now was because she was letting it in. She pushed aside the emotion.

She had Dave hovering. What more could she ask for? She waited for him to signal it was all clear before she moved from the car.

She had dressed in jeans and a powder blue college sweatshirt for the evening, comfort taking precedence over style. It was a security decision. The clothes made it easy to blend into the background should there be trouble.

She relaxed as Adam caught her hand in his.

“Hi, beautiful. You timed it perfectly.”

They moved down the janitor corridor between the theaters—Dave in front, Ben behind them.

“What snacks would you like?” Dave asked.

“Nachos, popcorn, and a couple big drinks.”

Sara knew that when they slipped into the back row, there would be familiar faces on the end seats on both sides, blocking the row from other moviegoers.

It must be a good movie. Dave had gotten several volunteers for the evening. Sara slipped past Susan into the darkened back row and could see the theater was already more than half filled.

There were times when being accompanied by security had its benefits. The fact that Dave paid for the movie tickets and the refreshments were two of them.

Sara chose seats partway down the aisle where she and Adam would have some relative privacy. They had too much food between them to do much beyond a soft laugh as they got themselves arranged. Sara took the nachos and Adam took the popcorn. The drinks easily fit in cup holders in the seats in front of them.

Adam chuckled at her as she ate her first nacho, carefully balancing one of the jalapeño peppers in the center of it before eating it.

“You do realize that is going to make kissing you rather a challenge.”

Sara held one similarly constructed up to him and nudged his arm. “Not if you try one yourself.” Her challenge dancing in her eyes.

He deliberately ate the nacho.

Sara had to stifle her giggle at the tight way he suddenly tried to breathe. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you had that low a tolerance for pain.”

He set down his drink. “I don’t. But I think you can have the nachos tonight. However, I do want my reward.” He leaned over and kissed her.

“We’re here to watch a movie, remember?”

Adam settled the box of popcorn against one knee and draped his other arm around her shoulders. “I would say that was one objective of the night out.”

Sara slouched down in her seat, getting comfortable. “If you start getting too fresh, please remember Dave is still my older brother.”

“He also thinks it’s been too long since you’ve been on a date.”

Sara straightened up in her seat. “He said what?”

Adam nudged her back down to the slouched position. “Hey, don’t get offended. He meant it as a compliment.”

“Sure he did.”

The theater lights dimmed and the previews began. Sara rested her head against Adam’s shoulder and watched the movie.

This could get addictive.

The popcorn was shared.

Sara realized partway through the movie that Adam was leaving her the buttered spots. She looked away from the screen to glance up at him and got a smile in return.

She could understand why she had a crush on him, but why in the world was he attracted to her? She had yet to come up with an answer that made sense. But if buttered popcorn didn’t prove it, there wasn’t much that would. Adam was sweet on her.

She was going to have to call Ellen. Her friend would freak—Adam Black!—but it would be great.

Sara smiled to herself and ate more of the buttered popcorn.

She refused to think about all the problems involved with their having a relationship. She was not going to let anything spoil tonight.

The movie was a good one to see on the big screen. Sara enjoyed every minute of it. She was reluctant to move when the movie was over. It meant sitting up for one thing, and she didn’t think her back would straighten. Adam laughed and massaged out the kinks for her.

“Glad you came?”

“Yes.”

They were escorted back through the same safe passage to the rear of the building.

Ben and Susan followed them in a second car until they reached Adam’s condominium complex. Dave waved his thanks as he dismissed them for the night.

King Henry met them at the door. Sara laughed at his antics as Adam tried to get him to step back and let them inside.

“Is he always this hyper?” Dave asked, scanning the rooms in view.

“He wants to go run on the beach.” Adam looked over at Dave, concern wrinkling his brow.

“Stay put.” Dave disappeared into the dark rooms.

Sara understood even if Adam didn’t. She hated to say the words that would change the tone of the evening. “The teen photographer knew who you were. If that picture became a problem, it would be your home and your office that would be the starting points for trouble.”

Adam’s face tensed. His grasp on the dog’s collar tightened so the animal would stay with him.

Dave came back into the room after a few minutes, turning on lights. “It’s clear.”

“Stay for dinner, Dave,” Adam requested quietly.

“I think that might be best.”

Sara sighed. It was best. But it was awful too.

Dave moved into the living room to call down to the security office.

Sara had a hard time shaking off the feeling of disquiet. Her monster had been gone for a brief time; to have it reemerge, even in a false alarm, rattled her. The verse from this morning no longer pulled her back to a sense of security. The shield around her felt like it had a puncture wound. She hated the change. Was her faith so shallow it still rocked even under the false alarms? What was going to happen the next time when the threat was real? If she couldn’t ground herself and trust in God, what was she planning to hold on to? Everything else could be shaken.

She leaned against the kitchen counter next to Adam, her mood subdued, as he went about the practicalities of fixing dinner. He diced onions while the smell of browning sausage filled the air. She couldn’t change the reality she lived in, but it sure had ruined a nice evening.

Adam studied Sara’s pensive face for a moment, considering what he could do. “Interested in making the pizza dough?”

She pushed up her sleeves. “Sure. Just tell me how.”

Adam was relieved to see the distant look leave her eyes.

He couldn’t afford to show her or Dave just how disturbed he was by what had just happened. They had considered the danger, determined it was safe, and were taking precautions. They lived their entire lives like this. He had just felt the threat for the first time. It had touched his home. It had been abstract until tonight.

He worried about Sara. One day the threat would be real. He didn’t know how he would cope when that day came. How did he convince her to let him help keep her safe? There had to be something he could do.

For tonight, his role was to help her still have a semblance of a normal life. He turned his attention to making pizza dough.

“The key is to keep the ceramic mixing bowl warm as you work. Fill the sink with about four inches of hot water, then set the bowl down in the water.”

Sara arranged it as he described.

“We’ll make two large pizzas, so you’ll need about a cup and a half of warm but not hot water.”

Sara measured the water, added a package of yeast, and reached for a wooden spoon. “Okay, what next?”

“Add a good dash of olive oil, a couple tablespoons of sugar, oregano, and a little garlic.”

Sara smiled. “Typical family recipe—an art, not a science.”

He grinned back. “Of course.” She rummaged through his cabinets to find everything on his list.

Adam found the black olives she had asked for on her pizza.

“Add flour until you can handle the dough without it sticking to your fingers, and you’re done.”

Adam watched her finish the dough as he greased the pizza pans. “Not bad.”

“Thanks.”

“You’ve done this before.”

“Homemade bread. This is similar.”

Adam dusted his hands with flour. He spread out the dough on the two pans with a deft hand.