Hot Mess (4 page)

It was early on an August day, and the humidity was already approaching unbearable. Still, Georgeanne forged onward until she reached her favorite café, ordered a latte, and took a seat in the corner where she could watch people go by. She’d been there for about a half hour, scrolling through e-mail on her laptop, when a man sat down across from her.

She looked up in surprise. The café wasn’t full and there were plenty of other tables. “Hi,” he said, smiling broadly. He was dark eyed, dark skinned. His smile did not reach his eyes.

“Can I help you?” She infused her voice with her best frosty tone, learned at the feet of her debutante mother, and waited for him to take the hint.

“You’re pretty,” he said.

“Thank you, but I’m not interested.”

He reached for her hand, gripping it in a surprisingly strong hold. Georgeanne tried to jerk away, but he held her tight. Her heart hammered and her stomach bottomed out as a wave of bitter acid flooded her tongue. She opened her mouth to yell for help.

Before she could say anything, the man leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with malice. “Your lover lied to us, Dr. Hayes. We are not amused. If you don’t wish to fall again, you will do what we ask when it is time.”

He let her go and shoved back from the table. Georgeanne sat there with her heart in her throat, her skin flushing hot. Her lover? What? She wanted to call out and tell him he had the wrong person, but the man was gone.

And then a river of ice poured down her spine as the rest of his words sank in. Last night hadn’t been an accident. Someone had actually
tried
to push her into the path of an oncoming train. Bile rolled in sickening waves in her belly.

Georgeanne sucked in a breath and then another and another as she tried not to hyperventilate. Cold fear gripped her hard, shaking her until her entire body trembled uncontrollably. She darted her gaze around the coffee shop, but no one seemed to be interested in her. Hastily, she grabbed her things and shoved them into her bag with hands that shook so hard she could barely perform the task. She wanted to go home and lock her doors and not come out for a week.

The day was bright, the streets filled with tourists and residents alike. She told herself no one would approach her again as she hurried out to the street. But she walked quickly up the road, though her sore hip ached. She wanted to be inside her house where she could lock the doors and windows, where no stranger could grab onto her like he had the right. Where no one could threaten her.

She reached her street, hurried up her steps and put her key into the lock with trembling fingers. Once inside, she let out a shaky sigh. She set her purse on the table near the door and walked back toward the kitchen and family room. A glass of ice with some vodka and tonic—heavy on the vodka—was just what she needed right about now. Then she could think again.

But when she walked into the kitchen, fear clutched her heart in a cold fist. Her insides liquified. The back door was wide open.

CHAPTER THREE

GEORGEANNE WAS NOT ONE to fall apart. She’d been raised to be gracious, strong, and flexible in all things. Her mother was pure Texas steel and her father had more grit than a beach. But this was not the same as dealing with a surly waiter or a pushy car salesman. This was dead serious, and far outside her area of expertise.

The instant she saw the open door, she ran back through the house, snagging her purse along the way, and then out the front door. Standing on the street, trembling, she whipped out her cell phone and called the first person she could think of.

Sam answered on the third ring. His voice was warm and gravelly, and she wanted to wrap it around her like a blanket. He told her very quietly, his voice as strong and hard-edged as a diamond, to go to a neighbor’s house and wait for him. She didn’t even consider disobeying.

Once she was at her neighbor’s house—a lovely woman with two toddlers who usually chattered nonstop about babies, diapers, and things like potty training and teething—she began to realize what she’d done. She’d called Sam instead of the police. Why had she done that?

Sissy brought Georgeanne a cup of hot tea, her pretty face bordering on terrified. “I’ve been telling Don we need to install an alarm system.” She picked up her cup, her fingers trembling. In the background, her toddlers screamed along to something on the television. “What if someone tried to break in here when it’s just me and the girls?”

Georgeanne willed her thumping heart to beat a little slower. “I’m sure I must have left the door unlocked,” she said, wanting to calm Sissy’s fears as much as her own. “Someone could have just walked right in. Or maybe I didn’t push it all the way closed and it worked itself free while I was gone.”

Sissy chewed her lip. “That’s possible. And it’s not like we’ve had a rash of break-ins. Still, I’ll feel better once we get that alarm. Maybe we should call the police, just in case…”

Georgeanne smoothed a hand along her jeans. She’d thought about that too, but Sam just seemed like the right person. “I already called my friend. He’s a badass military guy, so I know he’ll make sure everything is fine. If he thinks someone broke in and I should call the police, I will.”

Sissy nodded. “That sounds sensible. It’s not like the police don’t have enough to do, right?”

“Right.”

But there was a downside to calling Sam, and Georgeanne had been thinking about that too. What if he told Rick?
Oh mercy…

The phone chose that moment to ring and Georgeanne jumped at the blare. Sissy snatched it up and started filling her husband in. Georgeanne sat there, clutching the cup in one hand, and went over everything in her mind from the moment she’d left the house until she returned. Had she left the door unlocked? Could it have swung open from the pressure when she closed the front door?

And what did that mean for Belle? After the incident in the coffee shop, her fight-or-flight response had been so tuned that she’d ran without stopping to look for her cat. She put her head down and sucked in a breath.

She wanted to go back right now and check for Belle, but she knew better. All she could do was wait for Sam to arrive while asking herself a zillion times whether she should have just called the police instead.

Within a half hour, someone banged on the door. Georgeanne and Sissy both jumped, but then Sissy got up and went to answer it. A moment later, Sam entered the room and a wave of relief washed over Georgeanne. She didn’t even hesitate before getting up and flinging herself into his arms.

He seemed stunned at first, but then his arms tightened around her. “You’re fine,” he said softly. “And Belle is fine too. There’s no one there.”

She sucked in a shaky breath and pushed herself back to look up at him. He was blurry.

“You’re sure? She’s really okay?”

“Yes, she’s okay. She was hiding beneath the couch.” His dark eyes gleamed hot, and she knew he was suppressing something. She’d always known when Sam was shoving his feelings deep and twisting the screws down on the lid.

“I want to see her. Now.”

“Sure.”

Georgeanne thanked Sissy, and then she and Sam went next door and into her house, which he’d locked up tight before coming over to get her. Just to be sure, he checked everything again while she cradled Belle in her arms and stroked her soft fur. Belle purred as if nothing had happened. Georgeanne was weak with relief. Belle had been her companion through all the crap with Tim, and she couldn’t imagine life without her sweet cat.

Finally, Sam joined her in her office, which was in the front of the house. “You need to pack a bag, Georgie. You aren’t staying here.”

Her heart twisted in her chest. She wanted to do exactly as he said, and yet she’d learned a hard lesson with Tim. Never give your power to a man. Never let a man control you. She had to be strong and face her fear. Just because someone had scared her didn’t mean she needed to flee. “I’m not going to run away because of a man in a coffee shop.”

She’d told Sam what the man had said to her, but he hadn’t yet addressed it. He stepped forward, and she realized again just how big and hard he was. In spite of herself, a little flame leapt and curled in her belly. Sam McKnight. Still so handsome. Still so remote.

And still not interested in Georgie Hayes.

Not that she needed to be worrying about that right now, but it was somehow easier to concentrate on Sam and all her latent feelings than on the fact someone had threatened her just an hour ago.

“I wasn’t giving you a choice. Get packed.”

Something in his tone rubbed her the wrong way, making her think of days long ago. “I’m not twelve anymore, and you can’t tell me what to do. I have a life, a job.” She squeezed Belle, who started to squirm. “And my cat. I can’t just leave.”

“Take the cat with you. But you
are
leaving, Georgie. One way or the other.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His eyes glittered with determination. “It means I’ll throw you over my shoulder if I have to.”

Georgeanne swallowed. She had to be sensible about this. Had to know she was doing the right thing. “Give me a good reason, Sam. Make me believe this isn’t just you being overprotective because you think you owe Rick something.”

He swore then, soft and low. “All right.” He put his fists on his hips, his legs spread apart. “You need to pack a bag, Georgie, and you need to come with me right now. Because I found Jake Hamilton for you—”

“You found Jake?” She’d nearly forgotten about Jake over the last couple of hours.

He nodded, his expression firm and unhappy at the same time. Dread took up residence in her gut.

“He’s not coming back, Georgie.”

“Something happened to him?” Her voice was little more than a whisper. She’d known it. Somehow, she’d known.

Sam nodded. “Yes.”

Her eyes filled with tears and her legs just sort of collapsed underneath her. She found herself sitting on a chair, looking up at Sam through a haze of tears. “I don’t understand.”

He’d been a young Army sergeant working on his college degree. He’d been an intense student, a good student. She remembered him sitting in her class, always on the front row, always asking questions and taking diligent notes. He’d been the kind of person she would have said would go a long way, because he was determined to do so.

Sam came over and hunkered down in front of her. He brushed the tears off her cheeks. “I need you to trust me, Georgie. I need you to pack some things, pack the cat, and come with me.”

She sucked in another breath and tried not to lose it. “I have no idea what’s going on. Do you think what happened in the coffee shop was related? Was that man talking about Jake?” She had no idea why anyone would think Jake had been her lover, but right now that was the only thing that made sense. And that thought chilled her to the bone. Jake worked for a secret agency and now he was dead.

And someone had threatened her—worse, they’d actually pushed her last night.

Sam looked fierce. “I don’t know, but we’ll find out.”

She shook her head. “I don’t see how. Jake’s gone, and I don’t know who that guy was. Or why he thinks I know anything.” She pulled in another deep breath. “I didn’t do anything, Sam. I don’t know what’s going on and… and I’m scared.”

He squeezed her hand. “I know people who can figure this out.”

She knew she should ask more questions, but she was just too upset. And she trusted him. That was the bottom line. “Where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere safe.”

That wasn’t an answer and he knew it. And while she might have no choice in this, there was one place she didn’t want to go. “I won’t go to Texas, Sam. I can’t—”

His fingers caressed her skin again and she found herself wanting to lean into him, wanting him to keep touching her until the sadness went away. How could her body light up when he touched her even though she was feeling so many other things right now?

“I’m not sending you to Texas. I’m not letting you out of my sight. You’re coming with me, and we’re going to a safe house in Maryland.”

“You won’t leave me?”

His smile was tender, reassuring. “No, I won’t leave you.”

She looked down at her lap, unable to meet the intensity of his gaze a moment longer. “All right.”

His hand dropped away, and she found herself wanting to cry out, wanting to ask him not to stop.

“Good. I’m sorry about Sergeant Hamilton, Georgie. But I won’t let anything happen to you. You can count on that.”

“I know it.” Impulsively, she reached out and ran her palm along his jaw. She’d been aching to touch him. His eyes darkened, becoming hot pools she wanted to drown in. “I trust you, Sam. Completely.”

He caught her hand and pulled it away from his skin. “You can trust me with your life, Georgie. But don’t make the mistake of thinking you can trust me with anything else. I’m not that good, believe me.”

* * *

The car ride was silent. Or would have been if not for the incessant meowing of Georgie’s cat.

“You know something, Sam?” Georgie said, and he started at the sound of her voice breaking into his thoughts when the cat had almost become white noise to him.