Love Inspired Suspense January 2014 (70 page)

Several people crossed the drop-off lane that separated the building from the larger parking area, and Andrea studied each one as she turned back toward the building. Nobody looked even remotely familiar. A last-ditch search of the tree line on the other side of the parking lot didn't even reveal a suspicious shadow in the woods, let alone sunlight glinting off a rifle barrel like she half-expected.

Andrea fought off the urge to stomp her foot like a two-year-old. There was no way the guy could have vanished like that unless someone waited for him out front. She glanced at the other end of the lane where a Military Police car typically sat. Only a late-model SUV idled there. Of all days for the MPs to skip a patrol...

A figure seemed to materialize from the crowd halfway down the building, waving for her to get back inside. Josh. Even with all that was happening in the moment, his appearance did something to her. Instead of heeding his warning, she deliberately turned back to survey the cars one more time. Something wasn't right. Either she was growing paranoid or she was developing a sixth sense, but even the midday sun seemed to be holding its breath.

The three-chorded chime of her cell phone broke her concentration, and she glanced at the screen, then answered. She knew what the order would be before Josh even uttered it. “Fine,” she said, preempting Josh's directive. “I'm heading back inside now. You coming?”

“I'd hoped you were smarter than to follow the guy into the parking lot.”

“Well, what do you expect me to do? Let him vaporize into thin air again?” Dragging her hands through her hair, Andrea stepped off the curb to cross the lane between the two sidewalks, studying the front of the building. Could the man have ducked back into the Post Exchange through another door?

Tires squealed. A woman shrieked. Josh yelled something she couldn't decipher as it echoed across the space between them and through her phone at the same time.

Andrea jerked her head up in time to see the small SUV gaining speed as it aimed up the lane toward her.

She barely had time to draw a breath before a force slammed into her, driving her down and back into the grass of the median so hard that her lungs compressed. Her head jerked back and hit the ground, shooting stars across the sky. The blow knocked all of the sound from her world.

It rushed back in an onslaught of squealing tires, shouts and screams.

“Stay with me, Donovan.” A deep voice cut through the roar in her head, and she fought to grasp it, to hold on and pull herself out of the chaos.

Brown eyes swam into focus and drew her up to the surface. She sucked in a breath that shuddered its way past her tight throat and exhaled so loud it drowned out all of the noise in her head. “I'm okay.” The words were weak, but at least they were audible.

“You're sure?” Josh didn't look convinced.

Before Andrea could answer, an MP broke through the mass of bodies, said something into his radio and knelt on her other side. “Ma'am, are you okay? Can you move?”

For the third time in two days, Andrea heard sirens in the distance, drawing closer, all because of her. She tried to wave off the crush of people around her, crowding her, sucking up all of the oxygen and elevating the already stifling temperature.

“If these people would back up,” she muttered, desperate to get a deep breath, “I could stretch out my legs and we'd all know for sure.”

The young MP seemed a bit amused at her outburst, but he stood and waved the crowd back as another uniformed policeman arrived to help corral people.

Andrea stretched her limbs and rubbed her lower back. “Did the car hit me?”

“No. That would be me.” Josh dropped to the ground beside her, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder to keep her from sitting up. “Wait for the medics to check you out.”

That probably wasn't a bad idea, the way her whole body ached. “Getting tackled by you hurt almost as bad as the car probably would have.”

“Sorry.” He looked it, too. And shaken up, to boot.

Easing her head from side to side, Andrea felt the tenseness of her neck muscles. This would hurt a whole lot worse tomorrow than it did today. “Did they hit anybody else?”

Josh shook his head and brushed the hair out of Andrea's eyes. “Nobody else was in the crosswalk, and they made a straight line for you. I saw the whole thing. What hurts?”

“I was taken out by a soldier.” Andrea grimaced. “What do you think hurts?”

Josh's eyes clouded. “This isn't the time to be cute. You could have been killed.”

Killed.
The word crawled across Andrea's skin into her ear, where it buzzed, brushing every other sound away. It fogged her vision and sent tremors through her.
Killed.
This time, she couldn't stop the fear from snaking into her nervous system.

“Hey.” Josh scooted closer and gently gripped her face between his palms, hovering over her like he meant to protect her from the entire universe. “I'm right here. Look at me. You're okay.”

His brown eyes swam into focus inches from hers. She put all of her energy into them, trying to hang on to what seemed like the only solid thing in her life at the moment.
You could have been killed.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then another voice spoke as Josh moved out of her field of vision and a dark-haired woman in a blue uniform appeared. “Thought we were going to lose you there for a second.” She snapped latex gloves onto her fingers and picked up Andrea's wrist to check her pulse.

“I'm fine.” One more good deep breath cleared the air around her and dissipated the last of the lightheadedness, though her hand still shook in the paramedic's grasp and the buzz in her head grew louder, melding into words.
Killed. You could have been killed.

SIX

W
ith her blinds closed against the afternoon sun and who knew what else, Andrea's apartment seemed more like a submarine than a home. The light filtered through the blinds, and the air felt oppressive even as the air conditioner fought valiantly against the July heat.

The feeling of suffocation had nothing to do with the atmosphere.

When Josh had retrieved her phone outside the PX, there had been another picture, one of the two of them in the food court, taken from somewhere near the video game store. Whoever was watching knew she'd been there all along. Chances were good they'd never intended to try to run her down but had jumped on the opportunity when she stepped outside.

Andrea stared at her hands as she sat on the navy blue love seat. Deep scratches joined the bruises she'd joked about earlier, and nothing felt funny anymore. She twisted her fingers together and looked up, prepared once again to face off with the detective in front of her. “I can't legally tell you anything about Wade Cameron without a court order. You know that. I'm sorry.”

Detective Simmons, a tall, stocky woman in dark trousers and a white shirt, pulled the oversize ottoman away from Andrea's seat and settled onto it.

As she did, Josh sat forward on the couch as though he meant to protect Andrea from whatever hardball the detective might pitch next.

Andrea shot him a grateful look and forced her attention back to the woman in front of her. Josh hadn't needed to stay once he'd driven her home, but there seemed to be some instinct that pushed him to do it, something that told him he had to. Andrea wasn't sure what it was, but now that things were escalating, she was grateful not to be alone with a detective whose bedside manner rivaled Nurse Ratched's.

“Fair enough, Ms. Donovan.” Detective Simmons tapped her pen against the notebook she held. “You can't tell me anything about Wade Cameron without a court order. To be honest, I'm not sure there's enough grounds to get one. But you need to be thinking really hard about what you
can
legally tell me. This is looking more and more organized. And less and less like Cameron has anything to do with it.” She stood and paced the beige carpet to the window, where she tipped one slat of the blinds with her finger and peered at the parking lot below. “I was prepared to call Thursday night a fluke. And under ordinary circumstances, I'd write yesterday's shooting off as coincidental vandalism. But we have to take into account these pictures you're receiving, and it can't be a coincidence that you saw the same man in the PX and then were nearly run down in the parking lot.” Seeming satisfied with her proclamation, she turned away from the window. “And you're one hundred percent certain the guy in the PX was the same guy who attacked you at your clinic?”

“She's certain.” Josh's voice was harder than the detective's stare. “I doubt you forget the face of the man who tried to kidnap you.”

Andrea's tense neck muscles relaxed. She wasn't alone. His motives were a mystery, but he was here nonetheless, and that was enough. She shot a quick thank-you in his direction then turned to the detective. “I'm sure.”

“All right. That leaves me one more question. Why? You tell me why this is happening to you. Let's pretend for a second that Wade Cameron isn't even on the radar here. What else would make somebody do this to a counselor from Columbus, Georgia?”

Drawing her lower lip between her teeth, Andrea stared unseeing at the wall, flipping through images in her mind. Nothing stood out. Finally, she shook her head. “Not a thing. And even if you factor in Specialist Cameron there's still nothing. His stealing drugs from them wouldn't bring them to me, even if he did hide something in his file. If that was all they needed, they wouldn't be so intent on coming after me personally.”

That didn't satisfy the detective one bit. In fact, it set a whole new glint in her flat blue eyes. “Nothing at all, huh?” She stalked the room until she stood right in front of Andrea, staring straight down at her. “What exactly are you mixed up in, Ms. Donovan?”

“That's enough.” Josh rocketed to his feet like a cannonball. “What is it you're implying?”

Andrea swallowed hard, her mind slow to grasp the implication of the question, but when it did, anger blasted through her. “You think I did something to cause this? What? What could I possibly be involved in?”

Detective Simmons was unruffled by Josh's menacing stature or Andrea's ire. “You tell me. You deal with a lot of recovering drug addicts. Maybe there's a business on the side that keeps them needing your services?”

Andrea shot up from the couch, her nose inches from the detective's. Words sputtered in her mouth before they poured forth in a rush that bordered on volcanic. “How dare you? I have built my life around seeing people find freedom, and I am not about to let you stand here and imply that I've dragged anyone deeper into bondage. You have no idea what drives me, and until you do—” Josh's hand on her shoulder stemmed the words, but swallowing the rest of her tirade did nothing but send the energy out to her extremities. Her fists, balled at her sides, shook.

“Are we done here?” Josh's level voice dosed the situation with much-needed calm. “If we are, ma'am, now might be a good time to leave.”

Detective Simmons appeared to consider Josh's suggestion before she tapped her pen against her thigh, then shoved it into her pants pocket. “We're done for now.” She pinned a somewhat apologetic look on Andrea. “And I'm sorry, Ms. Donovan. Sometimes we have to push buttons to see what happens.”

Words refused to come. Andrea wanted to say she knew the older woman was only doing her job but, as the one on the receiving end of the accusation, she refused to give voice to her thoughts.

The detective merely nodded and passed a thick white business card to Josh, wisely choosing not to direct any more comments to Andrea. “If anything else happens, please call me. I'd like to tell you we have the resources to keep an eye on her apartment, but we don't. Two strikes in less than forty-eight hours make me nervous.”

When Josh glanced at her to gauge her reaction, Andrea shrugged and looked away. It didn't matter what happened after the next five minutes. She was two seconds from a meltdown and just wanted everyone to leave so she could fall apart without witnesses.

She struggled for composure as Josh closed the door behind the detective and turned to her. “At least that's over.” The words faded out at the end, and he tipped his head as though to see behind her facade. “Andrea?”

She held up both hands. If he showed her one ounce of sympathy, she'd crumble from the pressure. She'd almost been kidnapped, nearly been killed, been accused of the unthinkable... The last thing she wanted was to crack in front of a man like Josh Walker. Even with all that had happened over the last two days, somehow going to pieces in front of him seemed like the worst thing imaginable.

“I'm okay.” Even as she spoke the words, the cracks in her demeanor appeared. “Really.” The more she tried to talk her way out of it, the more the tears crowded into her throat. “You can—” her hands trembled “—go.” Even as she said it, she knew Josh was not the type of guy to comply.

He sighed and walked back to her. “You really shouldn't stuff all of this inside,” he said softly.

The quiet words snapped what was left of her control. When one tear broke free and blazed a trail down her cheek, the rest followed like a battalion on the charge.

Before she could stop him, he wrapped her in his arms and pulled her close against a chest stronger than any fortress around her heart. All of her energy leaked out with her tears, and if he hadn't been holding her up, she'd have slumped to the floor, curled into a ball and cried until the world went away.

* * *

What had he gotten himself into? When his arms went around her it had been an impulse, but now that she leaned against him it felt like something more. He stood frozen, unable to fill his lungs as she sobbed against his chest. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had his arms around any woman, crying or not. With Andrea, it felt right. Too right.

As the shock wore off and she continued to cry, instinct took over. He stroked her hair and mumbled words meant to comfort, even though it was gibberish to his ears and probably to hers, as well. Either way, it seemed to work. After the initial gale, the storm passed quickly.

When the shaky sobs calmed to deep breaths, Andrea untangled herself from his arms and sank to the oversize ottoman, staring at the floor between her feet. She swiped at her face with the bottom of her T-shirt and mumbled, “I'm sorry.”

Sympathy forced him to sit beside her. He wanted to rub her back, make some sort of contact, but none of it seemed appropriate even though she'd just been pressed against him. He shook the image away and instead rested his elbows on his knees. “Don't apologize. You've had a lot going on. A lesser woman would have cracked a week ago, before it ever even happened.”

She sniffed. “Thanks.”

Silence settled between them, punctuated only by the occasional sniffle from Andrea. Josh wasn't sure what to do next. He couldn't leave her after what had just happened, but he didn't know what to do with his hands. Should he get her a drink? Offer to turn on the TV? If this were a bunch of guys, he'd... Well, none of his buddies would have soaked his shirt with tears. At least he hoped not. He'd have decked them if they tried.

Andrea cleared her throat. “So you've had experience with crying women?”

“Come again?”

“You're pretty good at the soothing thing. Most guys would have plowed over the detective when they raced down the stairs to run away.”

He nodded and sat back, stretching his legs in front of him. “Oh, that. I used to have a dog.”

For a second, Andrea didn't breathe.

Just as he was wondering if she were about to cry again, her shoulders shook, and she laughed so explosively he jumped. “What?”

“You had a dog?” More tears spilled out, this time with laughter.

Josh winced. Wow. There was no way he could have botched that one any worse. “Not that you're like my dog, but...” Her contagious mirth trumped his embarrassment. “She was afraid of thunderstorms. And the big guns at the range that sound like thunder. And the garbage truck. And pretty much everything else. She needed a lot of comforting.”

“What happened to her?”

“Last time I went to Afghanistan, Mom and Dad kept her for me. When I came back, they sort of gently let me know that they'd gotten attached. I think they would have fought me for custody.” He grinned, remembering the way his mom had worked her charm on him.

“Oh, my.” Andrea sat farther back on the ottoman and swiped at her eyes. “Thanks. I think I feel better now.”

“At least I'm good for something.” His mood dimmed until it made even the shaded room seem too bright. He'd failed her today and she'd almost gotten killed. Worse, God had given him the opportunity to redeem himself, to finally make atonement, and he'd walked away and left her alone. Would he ever get it right? With a loud exhale, he pressed his palms against his knees and stood.

“What's wrong?” Andrea looked up at him like she was shocked he'd moved.

“I shouldn't have left you alone.”

The look on her face defied his attempt to read it. Josh expected fear, but this was something he couldn't decipher, something that stilled his feet and tugged at his conscience.

“You couldn't have known. Whoever this is was aiming for me whether you were there or not.” Andrea's voice was low as she picked at the piping of the ottoman by her knee.

“But I was there. And I nearly let you get yourself killed.”

“You're wrong.” She shook her head for emphasis and crossed her legs in a yoga pose. “Why do you blame yourself like that?”

What was with the questions? Had she decided she was the strong one and he was the weak one? “Don't.” He yanked his hands from his pockets and crossed his arms over his chest. Either she was a really good actress or the innocence on her face was for real. Josh couldn't believe this line of questioning came without purpose. “I see what you're doing.”

“What am I doing?”

“Psychoanalyzing me.”

Andrea looked confused, then hurt, like he'd accused her of...well, of selling drugs to her patients. “I'm sorry.” She barely whispered the words. “It's a habit.”

He held up a hand. “Just don't do it again.” If she dug too much, he might just tell her the whole truth. Then, when she kicked him out of her life, he'd never be able to protect her.

“I guess I need to focus on someone besides me.” Her smile spoke sadness, then she sighed. “It's easier—” Her cell phone trilled three quick notes, and she pulled it from her pocket to glance at the screen. Confusion knotted her eyebrows, and her
hello
sounded cautious, then her face hardened. “Did you forget something, Detective?”

Josh stiffened, ready to snatch the phone from her hand and give Simmons a chewing out she wouldn't forget anytime soon.

Andrea must have felt his mood change, because she held up a hand and stood, stepping past him across the room to the alcove that served as her dining area. “Where?” She pulled out a chair, then sank into it almost as if her bones melted.

Unable to read her expression, Josh walked toward her, ready to defend or support, whichever she needed.

“Do I need to do anything?” Andrea listened, oblivious to Josh standing feet away. “I'll be there as soon as I can. Thank you.” Without looking up, she clicked off the call and dropped the phone to the table with a clatter.

“What's...” Josh wasn't sure how to word the question without sounding like a possessive boyfriend. He had no right to ask her what the call was about. “Everything okay?”