Love Makes the Difference (Sully Point Book 1) (20 page)

"Damn it! Of all the luck. How did she do that?"

Sam had heard a screeching of tires on the road outside and
had a sinking feeling as he listened to Kevin. She couldn't have gotten away.

"She got away," Kevin said as he walked over to
them.

Sam and Anna sat leaning against the back wall. Sam noticed
that Anna's grip on his hand hadn't loosened yet. "How? And what the hell
happened?"

Kevin's chagrined look said volumes. "Somebody slashed
two tires on the side of the SUV furthest from us. Did something to the gas--probably
poured sugar into the gas tank. Had to be done in the last two hours, but
nobody saw her do it. We're sure it was Patrice, by the way, saw her in her car
as she sped off. She shot from the car, at the front window. I doubt she
thought she could hit either one of you since you weren't visible. She probably
wanted to scare you."

"She succeeded at that," Anna said in a small
voice.

"When Leo got in the car to take off after her, the car
problem became evident. So we radioed to the guys at the motel to get on the
roads out of town and look for a sickly-looking yellowish green two-door little
sports car. We managed to get the license plate."

"So we're waiting on news," Sam said dully. He
couldn't believe they'd come so close and hadn't gotten her. He was also having
trouble comprehending that she'd shot at them. There was static on the radio
and then guys reporting in.

"Found it. Abandoned on a side street. She had another
car."

"Damn, damn, damn," Kevin muttered.

"Wait--she had two cars?" Anna asked
incredulously.

Kevin nodded. "She planned this out well. We've
underestimated her, I think. I wouldn't have thought she had the patience for a
detailed plan."

Sam's thoughts were churning with rage. He wasn't going to
let Patrice destroy the happiness he and Anna had found. He stood up and then
pulled Anna to her feet. "How about we head to New York early? I know we
weren't going for a couple more days, but I'm not sure how safe we'd feel here."

Anna gave a little sigh. "Yeah, and I hate this. I hate
that she made this place feel dangerous. But you're right. Getting out of here
sounds like a good plan to me."

Kevin's brow furrowed as he thought. He said, "Let me
talk to Leo and see if he agrees. If so, we can get you guys out of here
tonight. My advice is to go upstairs, have some dinner, try to relax,
impossible as that sounds."

"Okay. Keep us posted," Sam said. "And we
need to get someone to do something about the front window."

Kevin waved them up the stairs. "I'll call and get a
temporary fix on it."

They climbed the stairs and entered the loft. Sam paced the
living area while Anna went in the kitchen and banged pots around on the stove.
He knew she was upset, but so was he, and they both needed a little space to
deal with their feelings. It was hard not to blame himself for this. For all of
it. But there was no point in thinking that way. The thing that bugged him the
most was  there was nothing he could do to end the danger.

* * * *

Damn Patrice! Anna thought as she clambered two pots
together getting one out of the cabinet. When would the woman give up? Was she
determined to actually kill them? Or would she terrorize them forever?

Anna knew Kevin would have already called Sheriff Jones.
They would take out a restraining order, at the least, now that she'd been seen
doing something. Not that it would help. Maybe they could actually have an
arrest warrant for her shooting at the building.

She wondered if she'd feel safer in the big city, or more
vulnerable. Kevin and Leo had explained the plan where they'd be registered in
one hotel under their real names but would stay in another, under false names.

Setting the oven to reheat a casserole, she got out her cell
phone and called her father. "Daddy?"

"What's wrong? You only call me that when you're in
trouble."

"Patrice came here. Shot at the window then got away."

"What? When? How? How did they let her get away?"

Anna could hear the surprise and the frustration in his
voice. "She sabotaged their car. And she had another getaway car. Anyway,
it means we're probably going to leave tonight for the city. We'll get you and
Cody rooms once we get settled somewhere. Just don't tell anyone where you're
staying."

"Yeah, okay kiddo," he said, sounding distracted.

Somehow hearing the old nickname of 'kiddo' didn't upset her
anymore. Instead she felt like crying. "Gotta go Dad. Fixing dinner. I'll
call later and let you know what we're doing for sure."

She set the phone down on the counter, a few tears leaking
out of her eyes, and Sam came in and saw her. She saw his face tighten with
anger before he gathered her up in his arms.

"Anna, Anna, don't let her do this."

"I'm sorry. I guess I'm scared."

"You don't have to be sorry. I'm scared too. And mad as
hell."

"Yes, me too. Do you think they'll catch her?"

"At some point, yes, but I can't tell you when. One
thing though--when we're out and about in the city, people might recognize me
or we might have paparazzi around us. Might be a bit harder for her to get away
with anything in that environment."

"You mean there could be a good use for those people?"

Sam laughed. "Yes, that would be strange now, wouldn't
it."

Anna thought about the few photographers who'd shown up last
week at the bakery. They'd finally tracked Sam down to Sully Point and seemed
peeved that he had duped them for so long with the Tom Anders identity. One of
them had written a nasty little caption to the photo of Sam smiling at Anna in
the bakery, suggesting he was slumming because he'd never be with such a plain,
uncultured type. Sam had been furious but Anna had laughed it off. It was such
an obvious dig. And nothing like the damage Patrice wanted to inflict on them.

She gave him a hug and pulled away. "Run back down and
grab that bottle of wine, will you? I think I could use another glass."

By the time he returned she had splashed water on her face
and felt better. She'd learned over the past weeks that the trick to all this
was to roll with whatever life threw at you, no matter how bizarre. Smiling to
herself she remembered the day she'd decided to accept the Porsche--definitely
a bizarre moment. But she did love that car. She'd only gotten to drive it once
around town, then the security guys insisted on putting it in a garage until
the threat was over. Something to look forward to--driving the car, walking by
the front window downstairs without fear, going to the bakery without a guard--all
these things she would look forward to.

"Here we go, a glass of wine coming right up," Sam
said getting wine glasses from the cabinet. "We broke ours when we rolled
into the coffee table."

"I didn't even notice. Do we need to go clean that up?"

"I mopped up the rug and put the glass into the trash.
Vacuuming can wait until later. Just don't go down there with bare feet."

Anna pulled the bubbling chicken and rice casserole out of
the oven. Comfort food, just right for tonight. They served themselves and began
to eat sitting at the counter.

"Sam, where will we stay in New York? I mean, if we don't
stay at some fancy place, you know, to hide out."

He chuckled. "I think you'll find that it will still be
fancy. There's a hotel I know of, very private, never advertised, that is only
for the very rich who don't want to be hounded by the press. I should go ahead
and call them. I told them the other day that we would need a suite starting in
a few days. They may not be able to get us in tonight. But you'll love this
place. Very cozy and they cater to your every whim."

"Sounds lovely. But I think you're the only one who
will need to cater to my whims."

"Anna!"

"So I have sex on the brain--how can I help it with you
around?" She grinned at him and he laughed.

"Here," he pushed his plate toward her. "Scoop
me up some more of that casserole while I call them, please."

Anna fixed his plate, and turned to watch him pacing around
the room as he talked on the phone. It was funny how often he did that. She
thought he'd gotten in the habit of pacing when he worked on his books and now
he did it when he was on the phone. It was another little quirk that endeared
him to her. She loved looking at him when he was doing something else. Watching
as he motioned with those hands that drove her crazy in bed, his eyes that grew
determined as he insisted they needed the room sooner, eyes that could be passionate
one minute and gentle the next--she felt herself blush as she remembered last
night.

He closed the phone and said, "Finally. Had to talk to
the right person. He says they'll put us up in another room for tonight and
tomorrow and then we can have the suite I originally booked." He paused
and tilted his head to the side. "Now why on earth are you blushing?"

She ducked her head and he walked over and tilted her chin
up with one finger. "Why Anna Grainger, I do believe you were thinking
lascivious thoughts."

"You've got that right. We could skip the rest of
dinner."

There was knocking at the door.

"Save that thought," Sam said with a growl of
frustration as he headed for the door. Kevin came in.

"No sighting of her at all. We agree with you that the
move to the city should be made tonight. We'll leave as soon as you're packed
and ready to go."

Anna swallowed a large gulp of wine.

* * * *

Sam sat with his arm wrapped around Anna. She was leaning
against him sleeping. He'd noticed she had an amazing ability to sleep whenever
and wherever she was, and especially when she was stressed out. While he sat in
the back seat of the SUV staring out the window, as the miles slid by, tension
filled his body. If this was one of the scenes in his books he'd have a clue what
to do. Here and now, it felt like running away to leave Sully Point this way.
Like Patrice had driven them out of their home.

He supposed she had done just that. Sighing, he shifted in
the seat and ran his hand over Anna's soft hair. He didn't think she understood
just what her show at Stanley's gallery could mean. Not just money, but fame in
the world of the arts. Stanley hadn't shown a new artist, an unknown, for
decades. The rumors and gossip were running rampant as the publicity for the
show began. Sam let himself imagine Anna in the midst of that crowd--her
realness against all that pretense and fakery, and smiled. Then it hit him.

"Leo," he said in a harsh tone. "What about
the show? Wouldn't that be the perfect place for her to show up?"

Leo turned to look back at him. "Yes, we've been
talking about it as a possibility."

"Focus on it. I can feel it in my gut. That's where she'll
come after us. Get more people, enough to give us major coverage for that
event. It's the kind of place she always goes to, and she'd want to humiliate
me in front of that crowd. And Anna as well, now that she is breaking into that
group."

"You sound pretty certain."

"I am. I know, you still need to keep watch over us
until then, but I think special attention for that night is important."

"All right, we'll plan for that. I'll bring in more
guys."

"Sorry I couldn't get your people rooms at the hotel we'll
be staying at, but they're booked solid."

"Not a problem. We're set up nearby."

"Do you think she intends to actually shoot one of us?"

"Yes, I do. But we won't let that happen."

Sam nodded as Leo turned to face front again. He knew there
was no guarantee that the guards could protect them.

They pulled up in front of the building they'd be staying in,
and Sam shook Anna gently to wake her. She mumbled, "Still sleepy."

"We just have to go in and up to the room then you can
sleep all you want."

"Well, maybe not that sleepy."

He chuckled.

* * * *

By the time they were whisked away in the elevator to the
fourth floor, and into their room, Anna was wide awake. The hotel didn't feel
like a hotel, but more like a mansion that they'd been invited to stay in for a
while. Everything was beautiful and tastefully done, from the furnishings to
the wall coverings of muted silk. The room they'd be in for the next two days
had an incredibly comfortable couch placed in front of a fireplace, a small
table by the window which looked out onto a garden in the courtyard, and a big
four-poster bed. The wood was dark and carved with pineapples and other fruits
with leaves twining around them.

"Anna, do you want anything?" Sam asked.

"This place is wonderful. Could we get something to
nibble on? I'm hungry now that I'm awake."

"How about hot chocolate with cookies? Or would you
rather have a club sandwich with a carbonated beverage?" The manager,
dressed in formal attire, looked inquiringly at her.

"The hot chocolate and cookies sounds lovely."

"Very well, miss. I'll have it sent right up." He
left the room, leaving a card key with Sam.

Anna looked at the security key. "That doesn't match
the décor."

"They're very up-to-date when it comes to security of
their guests."

Sam flopped down onto the couch and Anna sat at the other
end. The fireplace had a shiny brass peacock fan covering the opening. She
slipped off her shoes and drew her legs up, leaned into the back of the couch
and sighed. "Home, sweet home."

Sam grimaced.

"You can't let it get to you, Sam. We'll catch her and
this will all be over. I say that we enjoy ourselves when we can. And this room
is quite something."

"It doesn't feel too cramped to you? The one we'll move
into is a suite so there is a separate living room from the bedroom. Lots more
space."

"I think we can manage," she said soothingly.