by Lori Wilde
All this was interesting, but it didn’t explain how or why Kimber’s life was in danger. But one thing was sure: he needed her cooperation in order to protect her. And to gain it, he must first show her the evidence he’d collected and then convince her that the tenuous merger situation had come by design rather than accident...even if it meant implicating himself. Or, rather, Gerald.
Jerry stood and extended his hand to the man who’d helped bring all this to light. “Pete, you don’t know how much I appreciate your pointing out this problem.”
“And you don’t know how much I appreciate the opportunity to hold on to my job and retirement benefits.”
When he was gone, Jerry fortified himself with a deep breath. Grabbing up the file folders and incriminating receipts, he bypassed the elevator and took the stairs two at a time to Kimber’s office.
Upon hearing him enter, Kimber swiveled her chair toward him and cast him a curious glance.
He took that as an invitation and pulled the guest chair around to her side of the desk and dumped his evidence in front of her. “Maybe this will convince you that what I tried to tell you last night is the truth.”
She rested her forehead against the palm of her hand. “Jerry, I’m very busy right now.”
“All I’m asking you to do is take a moment to look at the facts. The proof, if you will.”
He waited as indecision wrinkled her forehead. When she finally nodded that she would hear him out, he launched into the pieces of evidence he’d found.
She listened, a grim determination pulling at the corners of her pretty mouth. Her composure faltered only at the mention of Gerald and Alison’s furtive meetings at expensive restaurants and the in-town motel.
“The sneaking-around part I believe, and I’m glad you’re finally admitting it,” she said at last. Her tone was deadly flat. “But I don’t understand why you are now trying to paint her as a criminal. I never imagined you to be so vindictive.”
“It wasn’t just Alison.” Jerry swallowed before telling her the rest. If Kimber thought he was a heel now, just wait until she heard that Gerald had bought falsified documents.
The only fortunate part of this whole mess was that Kimber would not have him fired. Because she didn’t dare tell her father about the affair for fear the knowledge would adversely affect his health, Jerry would still be able to work near her every day and keep a watchful eye out for her. Of course, that still left her vulnerable on nights and weekends.
She took the news better than he expected. But he could see that she felt overwhelmed by it.
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t shocked by this.” She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. She opened them a moment later and fixed the brown spheres on him. “I appreciate your owning up to your part in this...complicity. But I fail to understand why.”
“Why Gerald did it?”
“No. Why you’re telling me about it at all. It’s possible you both could have gone undetected, at least until you took what you wanted and fled the country. Why are you spoiling your own well-laid plan? Unless...”
She leaned forward and tapped a pencil on the desk blotter. After she’d pondered a second or two, biting her lip as she did so, she pointed the writing instrument at him.
“Unless you and Alison had a falling-out and you’re acting out of vengeance. In which case, you’re willing to take the heat right along with her, just to watch her suffer.”
“No, I don’t take heat well,” he said, thinking of the Place of Torment. “That’s why I work for the good guys.”
That look crossed her face again...the one mixed with confusion and surprise. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the reason I’m here—to keep you safe from harm.”
She shook her head and pushed the papers to the corner of her desk. “Please. Don’t start that craziness again.”
“Kimber, I’m not sure how you figure into the scenario,” he said, touching a hand to her arm. She flinched but didn’t move away. “But I am sure that your life is somehow in danger. Let me move back in with you so that I can protect you.” Ever so sincerely, and with his heart feeling even more fragile than the elder Barnett’s, he whispered, “I don’t want you to die.”
Chapter Fifteen
Kimber hung up the phone and sank back into her chair. This just wasn’t her day. She had still been reeling from Saturday’s events when Jerry came to tell her about the potentially illegal scheme he and Alison had been plotting.
And now the person at the repair shop had topped things off by saying they couldn’t look at her car until tomorrow morning.
It was odd, but the corporate situation Jerry had brought to her attention affected her less than when she’d seen him and her stepmother kissing. It hadn’t been this tough on her when she’d broken their engagement.
She recalled the emotional numbness that had paralyzed her when she’d confronted Gerald about his trip to the motel with that woman. With Alison.
How she wished now for that same numbness. For that would be better than this awful searing pain that sliced through her.
Not wishing to acknowledge that her feelings for Jerry had grown since his first betrayal, she told herself the relentless ache came out of concern for her father, who would be devastated by his young wife’s infidelity. Or that the overtime she’d been working had left her tired and on edge.
Kimber pushed away from her desk. It was late. She couldn’t think anymore today. Tomorrow she would decide how to break the news—both personal and professional—to her father.
Tonight, however, she would try to escape from both issues. Read a novel, perhaps. Something deep and dark and depressing.
Something that would exceed her own foul mood, thereby making her feel better by knowing that at least a fictional character had it worse than she did. Anything but a romance, with its guaranteed happy ending.
She fished the keys out of her purse and went home, leaving behind the documents Jerry had given her and— she hoped—leaving behind the anguish he had brought her.
Cornering Fourteenth Street, she passed the Italian restaurant where she, Jerry, and her parents had planned to eat the day the elevator malfunctioned. Its brightly lit sign pierced the quickly falling darkness. Alison had recommended this place. Had she and Jerry met there before?
The traffic light turned red, and Kimber pressed the brake harder than necessary. The pedal slipped a fraction before bringing the car to a jerky stop.
Gerald had always insisted on trading in his car for a new model every two or three years, while she had argued that doing so was costly and wasteful. Maybe she should have listened to him on this. The rest of the way home, she drove more cautiously than usual.
Unfortunately, the silence that filled the long trip to the country gave her ample opportunity to replay painful scenes and scraps of conversations in her mind. She reached over and cranked the radio up as loud as her ears could tolerate. Maybe the noise would drown out the unwanted thoughts that bombarded her brain.
The country songs were all about love gone wrong. Annoyed, she switched to a popular rock station. These songs were all about love gone right.
The rap station was even worse. The singer, in a chant that reminded her of the songs she’d jumped rope to in her youth, advised her to lie down in front of an oncoming train. “Ain’t no lookin’ back, when your essence leaves that track.”
Click. Silence once again filled the small sedan. Things might be bad, and Kimber certainly wondered how she would make it through each day, but nothing could be so terrible as to warrant that kind of “solution.”
Besides, Jerry had already killed a tiny but vital part of her. Remembering an educational television program she’d seen, she recalled that if cells in a certain part of the brain were destroyed, a neighboring section would soon develop the ability to handle that function.
Perhaps, if she waited it out, she would learn to live life without her heart.
&nbs
p; Kimber pulled into the driveway, gunning the engine to give it enough gas to climb the shallow rise. When she reached the crest where she always parked, she touched the brake. The pedal held briefly, then buckled under her foot, stopping only when it touched the floorboard.
The car continued over the rise. Kimber pumped the brake furiously, to no avail. Now the headlights showed that she was headed downhill toward the barn.
With only a split second to react, she veered away from the building and bumped over the stone path she and Jerry had built. The left front fender narrowly missed the bench. Seeing several ducks directly in her path, she blew the horn long and hard.
The blaring vehicle bounced over the grassy incline, sending birds flying in all directions. As the car approached the water, Kimber crazily thought how unnecessary train tracks would be right now. Surely she would die by drowning.
Kimber closed her eyes against the impact and felt the air bag explode in her face. Next, she felt herself plunging into the lake, sinking deeper and deeper. The body of water swallowed the headlights, and the night grew murky.
Taking a full breath, she held it, knowing it could be her last, and fumbled to unfasten the seat belt. Cold water surged around her ankles, rose quickly to her knees, and then to her waist as the car filled.
She had to get out. Now!
Gathering her courage and another full breath of air, she reached for the window button to roll it down. To her surprise, the electric window device worked, albeit grudgingly. Prepared to swim to the surface, she was surprised when there was no inflow rushing over the top of the descending glass.
Her hand tightly pressing the button, she waited, panic-ridden, while it continued lowering...slowly and steadily. It wasn’t until the window was almost fully down that the cold liquid gushed forward onto her arm.
The car wasn’t completely submerged after all! At this point, the water was only waist deep.
Relieved, Kimber moved to pull the door handle. With effort, she pushed it open and eased herself out.
Although the sun had been warm earlier that day, the night air had turned chilly.
Kimber hugged herself and slogged through the muddy mess that sucked at her feet. Lazarus swam by in front of her, honking his displeasure at having his quiet evening disturbed. With only the pale gleam of the quarter moon to light her way, she trudged up the hill to the relative safety of the house.
The sodden silk skirt clung to her legs, making them feel heavy and clumsy. When she reached the side door, she remembered that her purse and keys were still in the car.
Fetching the spare from beneath the flowerpot that adorned the window ledge, she let herself in. She picked up the phone and dialed, heedless of the puddle forming around her on the kitchen’s vinyl floor.
“Hello, Jerry? Is your offer still open to come stay with me?”
KIMBER DIDN’T KNOW why, but having Jerry here made her feel better.
After they had called the tow truck to pull her car out of the lake, he had insisted she take a warm bath and dress for bed. While she did that, he dealt with the tow truck driver, then slipped over to the Neidermeyers’ to borrow their spare car for her.
Later, when they sat together in the den, they talked about this latest in her series of mishaps. Unlike his usual preference, this time he didn’t prop his feet on the coffee table. Instead, he sat on the edge of the sofa, leaning his elbows on his knees.
“Yes, I know it’s odd for a person to have so many accidents,” she said after her nerves had calmed and they’d had a chance to talk about it, “but I don’t think it’s anything more than just a string of bad luck.”
He waited for her to stop pacing the floor before responding. Kimber sat down beside him on the sofa and tried to still her fidgeting.
“Then why did you call me?” he asked at last. “Why were you afraid to stay here by yourself tonight?”
“I’m not afraid.”
Her words and tone of voice reminded her of the time her father had taken her on her first roller coaster ride. She’d been terrified.
She sank back into the sofa. “Okay, I admit I got a bit rattled for a while, but don’t you think we’re making a mountain out of a molehill?”
He folded down a finger for each disaster she’d narrowly escaped. “The shoe rack. The elevator shaft. And now your car in the lake. That’s three strikes, Kimber. The next time you won’t be so lucky.”
She sat forward, twinning him as she perched on the edge of the sofa. “And what makes you so sure of that? How is it that all of a sudden you’re such a whiz at looking into the future?”
Jerry looked down at his hands. “I told you before, but I don’t think you believed me.”
“Oh, no, not that guardian angel stuff again.”
He stared at her for a full minute. Under his scrutiny, Kimber reacted oddly. She felt negative and mean-spirited for doubting his crazy story.
When he spoke, his voice was soft. “You read the Scriptures, don’t you?”
She nodded.
“And you believe what you read there?”
“Of course.”
He left the room for a moment and came back with a black book, which he handed to her. “Then you must believe Hebrews 13:2.”
She opened to the verse and read aloud as he hovered over her. “‘Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.’”
She didn’t agree, but she didn’t disagree, either. “Angels don’t kiss the stepmothers of their ex-fiancées.”
He sat down heavily beside her. Taking the book from her hands, he closed it and placed it on the coffee table.
Then he held her hand in his. Kimber tried to ignore the warmth that flared between them.
“I didn’t kiss her, Kimber.”
He seemed so sincere as he explained what happened that day that she wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe Alison had initiated the kiss and that Jerry had been taken by surprise. One thing was certain—he was clearly repulsed as he recalled the unfortunate incident.
“I would never do anything to hurt you.”
She felt her heart soften. Maybe she was a fool, but she knew he was telling her the truth. The Gerald she knew before the accident would lie to her and, perhaps, so would the Gerald who would return along with all his original memories and personality traits.
But the Jerry who sat in her living room—the man who had captured her heart despite his wicked past— truly was incapable of lying...and especially of doing it so convincingly.
When she had come across Jerry and her stepmother near the wooded path, her first and understandably natural reaction had been to assume that he had recovered his lost memory and was picking up where he’d left off with Alison.
However, if that was the case, why would he have exposed the shady dealings he and Alison had cooked up? The old Gerald, who would do anything to better his situation in life, might have explained away the printout discrepancy as a mere oversight. On someone else’s part, of course. Not his. And not even for revenge would he be willing to forgo the bounty he stood to gain from the dishonest transaction.
Some might call her a fool for believing Jerry had not willingly received Alison’s kiss. Something in her gut told her she was right about him. But she drew the line at this angel story of his.
Recalling the first part of the verse she’d read, Kimber said, “You’re not a stranger.”
“Am I not?” He smiled at her, and a small dimple formed in his cheek. “Am I the same person who inhabited this body before the fatal car crash?”
“It wasn’t fatal! You’re living proof of that.”
He shook his head. “Gerald died in the emergency room. When he left, I was sent to abide in his body and protect you from harm.”
Kimber’s thoughts veered back to the night she’d rushed to be with Gerald as he clung to life. The heart monitor had stopped beeping and registered a long, flat tone. The medical staff had done everything they could, adm
inistering electric shock and a powerful drug to get his heart started again. Eventually, they had given up and pulled the sheet over his face.
A moment later, the monitor started beeping again—stronger than before—and the nurse declared it a miracle.
Could it be...?
No, that notion was nothing short of lunacy.
Jerry must have seen the confusion on her face. “Normally, I don’t give clients the details of my assignments. Then again, my clients don’t usually know I’m around.”
For the next twenty minutes, he relayed a long, involved tale about a performance review, a supervisor called Nahum, a pair of wings, and serving his apprenticeship as a human.
She stopped him with an upraised hand. “Okay, I think I get everything but the poopy diaper part. But what does this have to do with me?”
“I was assigned to your case because your hourglass is in danger of emptying fifty or sixty years too soon.” Kimber stared at him, stunned by how seriously he spoke about something so far-fetched.
“I know it’s a lot to take in, but I could use your cooperation.” He must have noticed her hesitation, for he added, “This is only until I save your life, then I’m outta here.”
“Jerry, how can you ask me to believe this, much less go around with you being my bodyguard?”
“Protectorate,” he corrected. “Just look at the evidence. You’ve already admitted I’m not the same person Gerald was.”
“Yes, but—”
“Did Gerald know all the words to the songs at church?”
“No, but—”
“And what about how quickly the injuries healed? Even the doctor said it wasn’t humanly possible.”
“True, but—”
This time, she interrupted herself. He was right about all the things he had cited. And he hadn’t mentioned the ease with which he’d broken up the dog-and-goose fight, or even the halo she’d seen shining around his hair when they were down by the lake. But...
“I’m sure all these things have a logical explanation.”
“How do you explain my knowing Mr. Sizemore?” Jerry had clearly been familiar with the older gentleman he’d seen at the mall. And Mr. Sizemore had seemed baffled as to who he might be.
