Love Inspired Suspense October 2015 #1 (28 page)

“That must have been rough.”

“Yeah, well, we had the loft cleaned out, so no cancer germs,” he joked. He closed his eyes and sighed. “I don't know where that came from. I'm sorry.”

“You don't need to apologize. You've been through a lot, and you have a right to react any way you want.”

“Yeah, but that made me sound like a heartless jerk.”

“Not even on your worst day could anyone think of you as a heartless jerk.”

Will snapped his gaze to hers. Sara felt her heartbeat tapping against her chest.

Don't do this, Sara. He's a man still grieving for his wife, and you happen to be standing in her space.

“Hopefully a room will open up at the resort in the next day or two and I can move over there.” She refocused on emptying her backpack of clothes and setting them on a wooden bench. “Oh, I meant to ask if you knew of a place in town where I could get my phone looked at?”

“The new one?”

“No, my original phone. It was damaged in the fall and I'd like to retrieve things from it, like pictures.”

“I know a techie who could help.”

“Great, thanks.”

“Nate has assigned a police officer to keep watch.”

“What about Spike, the one who Nate thought was looking after me?”

“They found him wandering by the highway, disoriented, and took him to the hospital.”

“Officer Petrellis did that to him?”

“Nate suspects so, yes, and that Petrellis took Spike's phone and was texting updates to Nate.”

“Is Spike okay?”

“He'll be fine. He's a tough kid who came on the force a few months ago. He's probably wondering if that was such a good idea right about now.”

“Did they track down Petrellis?”

“No one was home when they checked his house. No car in the driveway, and the blinds were all closed. They've got a bulletin out on him. Anyway, a police officer should be arriving shortly to keep an eye on things here.”

“I thought Nate didn't have the resources, or are they worried I'll flee the county?”

“Nate is concerned about your safety.”

She nodded, hoping the detective truly believed her.

“Sara?”

“I'm fine. You don't have to stay.”

“Okay, well...” He ran an anxious hand through thick chestnut hair. “There are fresh towels in the bathroom, and you bought toiletries at the store so you should be all set.”

“Yep, looking forward to a good night's sleep.”

“Okay, well, until tomorrow.”

“Will, you don't have to—”

“Don't tell me not to check on you, Sara.”

“You're awfully determined.”

“Sometimes not determined enough. I won't make that mistake again.”

She frowned, trying to figure out what he meant.

“Have a good night,” he said in a firm voice. “The door automatically locks when I shut it. You can flip the deadbolt if you want, as well.”

“Okay, thanks.”

With a nod, he went downstairs and shut the door with a click.

She felt so alone in this strange place, a place where Will's wife had withdrawn from the world, which was kind of what Sara felt as though she was doing.

She could neither withdraw from the world, nor her current situation. There was a case to solve, two men to put away for murder, at the very least.

She pulled out her newly purchased cell phone and called her boss, this time deciding to leave a message.

“This is Agent Bonner. Leave a message.”

“It's Agent Vaughn. There's been a development in the LHP case and I need to speak with you immediately. Here is my new number.” She rattled it off. “The suspected drug case is now first-degree murder. I witnessed LaRouche kill David Price.”

She ended the call and stared at the phone. That should get him to call her back.

Exhaustion took hold, and she flopped down on the daybed. The echo of car doors slammed outside, and she figured the new surveillance officer had arrived.

Sara took a deep breath and relaxed, knowing she'd think more clearly after a decent night's sleep. She felt safe for now. No one knew where she was. LaRouche and Harrington couldn't find her here.

She sighed and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Sara awoke with a start. She wasn't sure how long she'd been asleep, perhaps not long because it was still dark outside. She grabbed her phone. It was nearly ten.

Then she heard what had awakened her: the creak of wooden floorboards. Someone was coming up the steps.

Sara sat up, her heart racing. She'd left the desk lamp on, which she often did, so she wouldn't be disoriented if she awakened. She searched the room for a closet, a place to hide.

No, she wouldn't keep hiding like a coward, a weak and fragile woman who didn't belong in the field. But she needed a better position from which to defend herself.

She noticed a rock candleholder on the desk across the room. She grabbed it and crouched beside a set of file cabinets.

Her attacker was pretty smart to have eluded the police officer outside. Was Petrellis coming up the stairs? She bit her lower lip with worry, remembering he was at least six feet tall. Sure, she could call 911, only they wouldn't get here in time to prevent the assault. They'd arrive after the fact, after she'd been taken, or beaten up, or worse.

She focused on the sound. Silence rang in her ears. Was she was imagining things?

No, she wouldn't be swayed by her boss's comment that, at times, her overzealousness bordered on irrational.

Another creak of floorboards echoed across the loft.

Focus, Sara. Breathe.

Creak, creak.

Now it sounded as though the creak was coming from the other side of the loft.

The intruder was up here, with Sara. Coming closer.

Closer.

Weapon in hand, Sara waited...

EIGHT

W
ill had drifted off to sleep on the sofa when the phone awakened him.

“Yeah?” he said.

“Is Claire with you?” his mother-in-law said.

“What?” He sat up.

“Susanna can't find her. She thinks she might have gone home.”

The phone pressed to his ear, Will searched the house. The beds were neatly made. No Claire. “She's not here. What happened?”

“Claire got upset and Susanna thought she went into the bedroom, but now she can't find her. One of the girls thought she heard her go out the back.”

“I'll go look for her. She shouldn't be walking around at night.”

“You're preaching to the choir. That girl should be grounded for life.”

“I'll call when I find her.” He pocketed his phone, grabbed his house keys and headed outside, figuring he'd walk to Susanna's house and hopefully run into his daughter making her way home.

He tamped down the panic, knowing it was a senseless emotion, yet a natural one. What happened that upset Claire? She'd been moody lately, and he wondered if something was happening with her friends or at school, and she couldn't bring herself to talk to Will about it. Listening and giving advice had always been Megan's role.

He walked a few blocks and automatically glanced to his right, across the park at the house with the upstairs loft that his wife, and now Sara, used as a refuge.

A shriek echoed across the park.

More lights popped on in the loft.

And a little person sprinted out of the house, past the patrol car parked out front.

Claire?

He took off toward her. What was she doing at the loft? Unless...

She missed her mom.

And found a stranger in her mother's space.

That must have been confusing, not to mention frightening for his daughter.

Will caught up to her on the lake path.

“Daddy! Daddy!” she sobbed.

Will whisked her into his arms. “Hey, baby girl. It's okay. I'm here.”

“There was a...ghost in the loft!”

“No, honey, there's no such thing as a ghost.”

“I saw her!”

She continued to sob against his shoulder and he debated taking her home, or going back to the loft to clear this up. A uniformed police officer headed toward them. The one thing Will did not want was for Sara's protective detail to leave his post.

Carrying Claire in his arms, Will headed toward the loft.

“Where are we going?” Claire said.

“To show you it wasn't a ghost, then I'll take you home. What were you doing at the loft anyway?”

“Nothing.”

“Claire Renee Rankin.”

A few seconds passed, then she said, “I go there sometimes, that's all.”

“You go inside?”

“Yeah. I found a secret way inside.”

He approached the police officer and recognized Officer Ryan McBride, Bree's cousin. “Hi, Ryan,” Will said.

“I didn't even see her until she came racing out of the house. Is she okay?”

“Yeah, just scared. What about Sara?”

They both turned to look at the house. Sara stood in the doorway on the first floor, gripping a blanket around her shoulders.

“See, that's the ghost!” Claire cried into Will's shoulder.

“No, honey. That's Sara, a friend of mine,” Will said. “I'm sure she feels badly about scaring you. Let's go talk to her.”

Claire shook her head no.

“Look, you weren't supposed to be at the loft in the first place, were you?”

She shook her head again.

“Okay, then, let's face the consequences of your actions and sort this out.” He nodded at Officer McBride and continued to the house.

“Will, I'm so sorry. I thought it was an intruder,” Sara said, pulling the blanket tight around her shoulders with one hand.

“Let's go inside.”

The three of them went upstairs. Will sat on a gray wingback chair and adjusted Claire on his lap. His little girl buried her face against his shoulder.

Sara sat on the daybed across the room. “I'm so sorry,” she repeated.

“So is Claire, aren't you, baby girl?” Will said.

“I'm not a baby anymore, Daddy.”

“No? So you're a big girl, and big girls can run off without telling anyone where they're going?”

She didn't answer.

“What happened, sweetheart?” he said, softening his voice.

“Nothing.”

“Claire?” he pushed.

“We were making cookies.”

“And...?”

“Olivia wanted to make snicker doodles, and Marissa said, you mean snicker poodles.”

“That upset you because...?”

She leaned back and looked at him. “Those are Mommy's special cookies.”

“Right. And it made you miss your mom?”

She buried her face against his neck. “It made me sad, so I went for a walk. Don't be mad, Daddy.”

“I'm not angry. I was worried. So was your grandmother, Mrs. Baker, and what about your little sister? Remember the buddy system? You're never supposed to leave her alone.”

“She was eating cookie dough. She didn't care.”

“Of course she did. As a matter of fact, I'd better call over there. First, let me introduce you to my friend, Miss Sara. She was hurt in a hiking accident and SAR rescued her. I offered to let her stay here.”

“This is Mommy's place,” Claire's muffled voice said.

“I know, but Mommy's not using it right now, and Miss Sara needs a place to sleep.” He shot a half smile across the room at Sara.

Sara's gaze was intent on the back of Claire's head.

“How about it?” Will said. “Can we show Miss Sara our gracious hospitality by letting her stay here for a few days?”

“I guess.” Claire leaned back and looked at Will. “What happened to your face, Daddy?”

“I had a hiking accident, too.”

“Did they have to rescue you?”

“No, I walked down on my own.”

“You look like you were in a fight.”

“Do I look like I won?” he teased.

“Yeah.” Claire giggled.

“Good answer,” he said. “Now, I'd better call your grandmother before she sends out the National Guard.” Will shifted Claire off his lap and made the call.

* * *

By holding the blanket loosely around her body, Sara managed to hide the fact that she was still trembling. The adrenaline rush hadn't worn off from the past few minutes.

Will's daughter studied her with fascination and fear coloring her eyes. To think Sara had nearly conked the girl on the head with the rock candle.

Yet she hadn't because as Sara had been about to jump out of her hiding spot, the little girl had whispered, “Mommy, where are you?”

Sara had put down her weapon and stepped out from behind the file cabinet. Unfortunately revealing herself had terrified little Claire.

Mommy, where are you?

Hadn't Sara asked the same question a hundred times as a child? Wondering why her mom had had to go live at the hospital, and then why she'd never come home.

Sara's heart ached for Claire.

“It's fine. She's fine,” Will said into the phone.

Sara noticed how he inadvertently stroked Claire's hair while speaking to his mother-in-law.

Claire hadn't taken her eyes off Sara.

“I'm sorry if I frightened you,” Sara said.

“Why were you hiding?”

“I was scared.”

“Of me?” Claire said, incredulously.

“I didn't know it was you,” Sara explained. “All I heard was someone coming up the steps.”

“Oh,” Claire said, thinking for a minute on that one. “Can you draw?”

Sara bit back a smile at the random nature of her question. “No, not really.”

“Mommy says everyone can draw.”

“She created wonderful things.” Sara eyed the sketches pinned to the walls.

“No, I'll take her home and pick up Marissa on the way,” Will said into the phone. “I think she should be grounded, don't you?” He glanced at Claire.

His daughter shook her head no, that she didn't want to be grounded.

“Nonrefundable, huh?” Will continued. “Okay, I guess you can swing by in the morning and pick them up... See you then.” Will pocketed his phone and looked at Claire. “Nanny and Papa spent a lot of money on tickets to the museum, so I'm going to let you go with them tomorrow, and then tomorrow night we'll talk about the consequences of your actions.”

“Don't ground me next week, please, Daddy. It's after-school art camp.”

“We'll talk about it later.”

The little girl looked as if she was going to burst into another round of tears. Sara did not envy Will's job of being a single parent.

“Let's go,” he said, reaching out for Claire. “Sara needs to get some sleep.”

Claire ignored her father's hand and studied her shoes.

“Claire?” Will prompted.

“Whenever I come here—” she hesitated “—I usually say a prayer for Mommy.”

Will's expression softened. “Good idea.”

Claire pressed her fingers together in prayer, as did Will.

Sara hadn't prayed since...well, she couldn't remember the last time she'd prayed. She figured, why bother? It hadn't helped when Mom was sick, and what kind of God would take Sara's father away from her?

“Don't you know how to pray?” Claire asked Sara with a frown. “It's easy. You put your hands together, see?” She nodded at her own fingers.

Sara had to stop thinking about her own pain and consider little Claire's emotional recovery. Sara pressed her hands together, the feeling so awkward and uncomfortable. “Like this?”

“Yes, then close your eyes.”

Sara did as requested. How could anyone deny such a sweet little girl who was still grieving for her mom?

“Dear Lord,” Claire began. “Take good care of my Mommy because she always took good care of us. I hope she's helping you in Heaven, and I hope she'll never forget us. I love you, Mommy. Amen.”

“Amen,” Sara and Will said in unison.

She didn't know about Will, but Sara could hardly speak past the ball of emotion in her throat.

“Good,” Will said in a rough voice. “Good prayer.”

“You did good, too, Miss Sara,” Claire offered.

“Thank you.”

Claire went to take her father's hand.

“Hopefully there won't be any more excitement,” Will said to Sara. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“You don't—”

“I'll bring breakfast by after my in-laws pick up the girls.”

“We want to come for breakfast,” Claire said. “Please, Daddy, please?”

“Enough, sweetheart. Let's get your sister and go home. We'll figure out the rest tomorrow.”

Claire grinned. Sara wondered if the little girl had Will wrapped around her finger.

“Until tomorrow, then.” Will escorted Claire to the top of the stairs.

“Good night, Will,” Sara said. “Sweet dreams, Claire.”

Claire smiled at Sara. “I'll say a prayer for you tonight so you won't be scared anymore.”

Claire started down the stairs and Will glanced at Sara.

“She's adorable,” Sara said.

“Yeah.”

With an odd, almost sad smile, Will disappeared down the stairs with his daughter.

After everything that had happened today and this evening, Sara realized spending time with Will and his girls for breakfast tomorrow was a horrible idea. She'd be hiding behind a shield of lies, and that was starting to feel terribly wrong.

As she stretched out on the bed, she heard Claire's prayer:
Take good care of my Mommy because she always took good care of us.

That was what Will and his girls needed most: someone to take care of them. Sara was a dangerous diversion from that goal, although Will didn't know how dangerous.

She felt something brewing between she and Will: a closeness, a connection. She couldn't let that happen.

“Stop thinking about them.”

No matter how much a part of her enjoyed watching Will interact with Claire, listening to Claire pray for her mother and taking refuge in the loft, the reality was, Sara had a job to do. If only her boss would call her back.

Until then, she had to stop involving innocents like Will and his girls, for their own good.

* * *

Sara got up early the next morning and tried to leave, but Officer McBride asked her to wait until Nate arrived. Asked? More like ordered her to stay put, up in her tower.

Sara could have argued, but she wasn't an idiot. Making enemies with the local cops wasn't a great idea, especially since she'd need their support, not their suspicions.

As she gazed out the window, she imagined what it would be like to live in a small town like Echo Mountain. Sara had hopped from one place to another after high school, first switching colleges to get the best criminal justice degree, then taking jobs to support her goal of becoming an FBI agent.

Yet life seemed so peaceful in Echo Mountain.

She sighed. Things always looked different from the outside. Like the bureau, and how it was nothing like she'd imagined. They didn't rush out and nail the bad guys. They had to follow protocol and procedure, and sometimes that meant a criminal wouldn't be prosecuted.

As she gazed at the mountain range in the distance, she wondered if LaRouche and Harrington had come down from the mountain, and what story they'd tell.

She spotted Will's Jeep cross the property. He parked and got out, with both little girls in tow.

“Will, no,” she said. Bringing the girls here would only make things harder.

He carried what looked like a pastry box. Sara couldn't believe he'd awakened his daughters this early to bring her breakfast.

“Sara?” Will called from the bottom of the stairs.

“Come on up!” It's not as if she could turn them away. She wouldn't be that cruel, especially not to two little ones.