Читать книгу Fatal Threat - Valerie Hansen - Страница 15

Adam was determined to escort Sara home from the fire station that night whether she liked it or not. It wasn’t a difficult chore since she lived in one of the apartments located above the offices and shops that lined all four sides of the Paradise town square. An old-fashioned courthouse sat in the center while police and fire stations were on Church Street, a short block east off the main drag.

“I jogged over. I can walk home,” she insisted.

“Good for you. Humor me and get in.” He held the door to his ranch pickup truck open for her before circling and sliding behind the wheel.

“Aren’t you on duty tonight?”

“Yes. But I won’t be far away. I have everything I need with me in case we get another call.”

“I sure hope we don’t.”

“Yeah, me, too.” He turned the final corner and pulled to the curb in front of Sara’s apartment, above Cynthia Weatherly’s insurance agency office. He got out and circled to open the passenger door.

“I can open my own doors, Adam.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, clearly mocking.

“All right. Sorry. Thanks.”

“My pleasure.”

He trailed close behind, almost bumping into Sara when she stopped on the stairs and asked, “What are you doing?”

“Seeing you to your door.”

“Why?”

“Because the chief of police asked me to.” And because there is no way I’m going to let you walk into possible danger without me.

“That’s ridiculous. Besides, since when is Chief Magill giving orders to Chief Ellis’s firefighters?”

“Since one of his deputies has the flu and the others are still at the scene of the fire, looking for clues to who took those potshots at you.”

Lights around the courthouse cast a yellowish glow and sent shadows all the way across the street to engulf the exterior staircase of the brick-faced building. It was situations like this that he’d learned to avoid in a war zone. Where there was darkness, there could be a hidden enemy—and often was.

Adam grasped Sara’s upper arms through the sleeves of her light jacket. “Look, I don’t care whether you believe you’re in danger or not. Denial won’t change reality. I don’t know why you were a target tonight but I don’t doubt for a second that you were. Whether or not the shooter meant to hit you is the only thing in question. He did miss.”

She faced him, her chin jutting. “Are you this touchy because somebody tried to shoot you, too?”

The guttural noise Adam made as he threw both hands into the air was totally instinctive. The woman was impossible. And so special it made him crazy.

Refocusing, he managed to affect a calmer demeanor. “What is it with you, Sara? Why can’t you just accept a good deed without psychoanalyzing it or inventing excuses for why it isn’t genuine?”

He didn’t know what kind of response he’d expected but it sure wasn’t the one he got. Blinking back unshed tears, she stood tall. “Because I don’t deserve it, Adam. You were right. It’s my fault Vicki died. I should never have encouraged her to go on the mission trip with me in the first place, and I should have tied her to a tree that night if that was what it took to keep her safe.”

“You had no way of knowing what was going to happen.”

“No, but I did have strong misgivings. She was so excited and so proud to have uncovered what she thought was corruption I probably didn’t try hard enough to talk her out of wading into the water. I could have stopped her, somehow. I should have done more.” Sara paused to sniffle. “I should have gone with her, at the very least. Then maybe she’d still be alive.”

Adam placed his hands gently on her shoulders and shook his head. “No, Sara. You could both have died.”

“Maybe that would have been for the best.”

As she covered her eyes and began to sob he gave in to the urge to embrace her, to pull her close. His heart was pounding and his breath shuddered as she wept against his uniform shirt.

He wanted to kiss her, to hold her and promise to never let her go. To assure her that losing her would have made his heart ache until the end of time.

Instead, he understood her survivor’s guilt and simply said, “No. It wouldn’t.”

* * *

Sara didn’t know how long they stood there. Nor did she care. These were the tears she hadn’t yet been able to shed for her loss and having Adam there, supporting her, was an unbelievable relief and comfort. Finally, she eased away. “Sorry. I got your shirt all wet.”

“It’s not the first time I’ve been wet tonight,” he quipped. Lifting his head he pointed with his chin. “Go on up whenever you’re ready. I’ll wait right here and watch until I see you’re safely inside.”

Managing a smile she wiped her damp cheeks with her fingertips. “I thought you were coming with me.”

“I still will if that’s what you want. I just thought it might be awkward, considering...”

This was his standard reaction to being too close to her, she recalled, feeling a little miffed. Well, she could hardly blame him. After all, she had just spent far too long clinging to him and crying her eyes out. Yes, her motives were innocent but it was perfectly natural for him to be uneasy. In view of the fluttering in her veins and an undeniable sense of excitement, she wasn’t all that comfortable with their present situation, either.

Her smile widened and she patted his arm. “I get it. You’re right. I would rather go up alone. I assure you, I’m quite capable of unlocking my own door. Been doing it for years. Good night, Adam.”

“Good night.”

Without further delay Sara completed her climb and fitted her key in the lock. Hesitating on the landing, she waved goodbye to him, hoping her crying jag hadn’t permanently spoiled his good opinion of her. Adam had always been a reliable friend. A rock. Even if he never chose to see her as anything more than a buddy she’d have to be content.

Blanketed by her errant thoughts and feelings she broke eye contact.

Opened the door and took a step into the apartment.

Gasped. And screamed!

Adam was taking the stairs two at a time before he even realized he was moving. He burst in behind her, expecting a flesh-and-blood adversary. Instead, he was looking at the worst job of vandalism he’d ever seen. Furniture was slashed and overturned. Cupboards gaped open with their contents strewn on the floor, much of it broken. A fractured floor lamp lay across the end of the coffee table as if it had been used as a battering ram.

He pushed Sara behind him. “Stay here while I check the way I should have in the first place.”

A crimson footprint low on one wall showed clearly because someone had dumped a gallon of red paint onto the hardwood floor and stepped in the puddle before kicking anything in the way. Paint was also flung up the walls and onto the sofa. What looked like the remains of all of Sara’s clean nurse’s scrubs had been stomped into the sticky mess until the fabric was hardly recognizable.

Circling the carnage as best he could, Adam checked the small bedroom and bath before returning to her.

“Anything else?” she asked with a tremor in her voice.

“Nobody’s here but us, if that’s what you mean,” Adam assured her. “Call the police.”

“I already did. They’re pulling a couple of guys off the investigation of the shooting.”

“Good. I don’t expect them to find anything out there anyway. There’s a better chance of turning up clues in here.”

“Do you think the incidents are connected? I mean, the methods are very different.”

“It’s more likely than not. Whoever broke into your apartment must have figured you’d be gone with the volunteers and he’d have plenty of time to do this damage.”

She wavered and he cupped her elbow to steady her. “You okay?”

“Not really. What am I going to do?”

“Take one thing at a time. Let’s go back down to my truck to wait for the cops. You can’t stay here.” He could tell she was staggered by the avalanche of problems. “Look, why don’t you call an out-of-town friend and see if she can put you up for a few nights? Leave Paradise until the cops have some answers.”

“And chance bringing this kind of disaster on somebody else? No way. I suppose I can get a motel room. Or crash at the hospital in the employees’ lounge.”

“Neither of those choices is any safer for you than sleeping on one of the benches on the courthouse lawn across the street,” Adam countered. A heartbeat later he added, “All right. You’re coming to the ranch with me.”

Sara rolled her eyes. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not?” He gave her his best skeptical look while wondering what she’d come up with for a plausible argument.

“Because it’s not right.”

“If it’s okay with me and my brothers I don’t see a problem. Besides, if you’re uncomfortable being alone with me I can ask Carter and his wife to give you a place to sleep over at their house.”

“No way. They have small children. I’d never take the chance they’d be put in danger.”

Adam sobered. “So you do agree this is some kind of vendetta?”

“It must be,” she answered softly. “I mean, look at my place. I won’t be able to salvage any of my uniforms and the furniture is too spoiled to use again.”

“That was yours, too?”

“Some of it was. Most came with the apartment. I didn’t need much room when my folks were still in Paradise, so I rented this place from Cynthia. Any time I started to get claustrophobic I could always drive to the farm and chill out in Dad’s woods or fish in his pond. I suppose I should have looked for another place to live after they retired and moved to California, but I never got around to it.”

“Your dad has a brother there, right?”

“Yes. And speaking of brothers, what are Carter and Kurt going to think when you show up on the ranch with a surprise houseguest?”

“I will be teased unmercifully until we tell them why you’re there, but I’m willing to take the heat if you are. Mrs. K comes in a few days a week to cook and clean for me. I can ask her to stay over if it would make you more comfortable.”

“We don’t need to add another potential victim.”

“Right.” He had been smiling as he pictured being teased. Now, he sobered and sighed. “You really can trust me, you know.”

“I know I can. It’s not you—or your brothers—I’m worried about. It’s town gossip. The Bible says we shouldn’t do anything that gives even a hint of sin because it reflects poorly on our Lord.”

“So, you’re not avoiding me?”

Sara was shaking her head and Adam spotted fresh tears pooling in her eyes. “Of course not. We’re old friends. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather count on.”

He was touched. “Thank you.”

She swayed toward him for an instant and he imagined her falling into his embrace once again. Was that what he wanted? Was it fair to get involved with her, or with any woman, when he knew the fighting and killing he’d endured as a marine had hardened his heart and changed him in ways he was still discovering?

Getting down to basics, the most important thing was staying close to Sara until whoever was causing all the trouble was unmasked. How he was going to do that when they went to separate jobs was not going to be easy. Truth to tell, nothing about his relationship with Sara Southerland ever had been, even when they were kids and he had called her a little squirt.

Adam placed a hand at the small of her back and reached toward the door handle of his truck cab. “I think you’d better sit down before you fall down. Get in.”

Her quick glance of consternation pleased him. Better she should be thinking about him than about her circumstances.

Braced with one hand on the door, one foot inside on the floorboard, Sara hesitated. “I hear sirens. Must be the police.”

“Probably, since my pager hasn’t gone off,” he replied, feeling a sense of relief, short-lived though it might be. Paradise was always quiet at this time of night, so the curious would be peering out windows or trying to learn the reason for the sirens by listening to scanners and calling friends. Soon, they’d have plenty of company on the square and he’d have an even harder time keeping Sara isolated.

The wail of the patrol cars grew louder. Sara had remained standing, half in, half out of his pickup. Watching for the police, Adam noticed a white sedan cruising past followed by a dark-colored SUV. Both drivers were moving slowly and peering out at the area around the apartment.

Hair at the nape of his neck prickled. Few locals were yet aware of the location of the break-in, so why were these drivers acting so interested?

Windows of both vehicles were rolled down, something he found a bit unusual considering the cool April night. Still, there was no law against getting fresh air.

Sara’s drawn-out “Adam...” temporarily redirected his attention to her—only she wasn’t looking at him, she was staring at the passing cars.

Suddenly her hands shot out. Her fingers fisted handfuls of his shirt like the talons of an eagle and yanked.

Adam tried to halt his fall but Sara had simultaneously thrown herself on to the truck seat, and momentum carried him down with her.

Then he felt the reverberation of multiple gunshots, heard a window shatter above his head and got the true picture.

Sara’s quick thinking and decisive action had just saved his life. She might not know why thugs were pursuing her but in some ways she was behaving more rationally than he was. He couldn’t believe he’d actually let her go alone to open that apartment door without backup.

Sounds of at least one engine revving echoed through the still night air. Tires squealed.

Adam pressed his cheek to Sara’s and held her as tightly as he dared. Even a marine couldn’t fight bullets with his bare hands. This was the last time he’d go anywhere unarmed until they were sure this threat had passed. Anybody who wanted to get to Sara Southerland would have to take him out first.