“You don’t strike me as an optimist.”
He stared straight ahead. “No offense, but you don’t know me.”
Nope, she didn’t. And she didn’t want to. In her opinion, life was too short to be around people who pitied her or treated her like she was beneath them.
Her silver sedan came into sight down the road. She squinted as they got closer. Something looked off, even from the distance. But what?
“Is that yours?” Bradley asked.
“It is.” So what if the compact sedan was ten years old? It was paid for, and it got great mileage...unless she took an unexpected trip with no prior planning. She’d been so preoccupied with getting here that she didn’t stop for the entire trip—not to eat, to use the bathroom or to even get gas. She’d been single-minded in her mission. Add fear into the mix, and she hadn’t even thought to look at the gas gauge. She’d just driven, fast and hard.
Bradley slowed to weave around her car. She sucked in a deep breath as she got a glance of her vehicle, which she’d abandoned on the road since there was no shoulder here. Bradley braked beside it.
All of the windows were busted out. A dent on the hood made Julianne envision someone standing there as they pounded viciously at her car. Papers from the backseat fluttered in the wind.
Her gaze focused on something at the front of the car. There, in the passenger seat, lay a bag of potato chips and an empty energy drink container.
* * *
Bradley threw the vehicle into Park and opened his door. He looked back at Julianne and held up a finger. “Stay here.”
Julianne didn’t say anything, but that same dazed look—one that was full of fear and trepidation—settled over her.
“Julianne?”
She finally made eye contact with him and nodded. Good. She’d heard him and understood.
He locked the door and exited the vehicle. He wished he had his gun with him, but he hadn’t planned on leaving the office today. He definitely hadn’t planned on this.
He approached the car with caution, his gaze searching his surroundings for any sign of danger. Something about the situation felt off, and he didn’t like it.
How long had Julianne been away from the vehicle? Based on the time of the phone call from the guard until now, she could have only been away for an hour and a half max. Had someone been following her? If so, where were they now?
This road led only one place—the Eyes headquarters.
He didn’t like the knot in his gut. He’d been in enough life-threatening situations to know when danger lurked nearby. His senses were heightened now.
Then another thought slammed into his mind: What if Julianne was the dangerous one? What if she’d busted these windows out herself in order to make him think something was going on? To make him believe her? What if she really was crazy?
Sure, she was beautiful. Her stunning good looks would blind most people. But Bradley knew better than to be deceived by a person’s appearance.
He glanced back at her. Her face was pale, her eyes glazed and her limbs continued to shake. She looked genuinely scared. Could someone fake that? Or perhaps she was scared of herself?
The question was what did he do with her now? How did he sort this out?
He had a million other things to do. Helping a potentially unbalanced woman wasn’t on his agenda, nor could he squeeze one more thing onto his schedule.
But, at the same time, how could he turn her away? If she did have some scheme up her sleeve, perhaps he should keep her close to keep an eye on her. He sighed and climbed back into the SUV.
Julianne’s gaze latched onto his. “Well?”
He had to decide on his plan of action, decide whether he should walk away or engage himself. “Is there anyone you can call?”
“My boss is dead. My counselor is dead. My best friend just moved to California, and my parents are backpacking in Europe.” She shook her head, rubbing her lips together as she did so. “Look, I’ll just call a tow truck and get my car taken into a repair shop.”
He quirked a brow. “And then what?”
“What do you mean?”
“What will you do after that?” he asked.
Julianne glanced down at her hands, continuing to shake her head and rub her lips. “I have no idea. I can’t go back up to my apartment. I don’t have enough money to go anywhere else.” She shrugged. “How hard could it be to go somewhere and start a new life? Get a new job, find a cheap apartment, pay in cash. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure Darrell doesn’t find me again.”
The woman was serious. Getting her car fixed was going to drain most of her money, he would guess. She didn’t seem like the type who kept a large stash of cash on hand. Starting over wasn’t as easy as the woman might think.
“I hope you brought enough money for all of that.”
She grimaced. “I have forty-two dollars in cash. I don’t use credit cards, and my checking account has twelve dollars left. I don’t know what I’m going to do or how I’m going to do it, but I’ll figure it out. What choice do I have?”
“Come back to Eyes, and we’ll call that tow truck.” It would take probably a day, at least, to fix the car. Which meant she’d have to find a hotel overnight. Except that she probably couldn’t afford a hotel.
The last thing he wanted was to add more stress to his life. So why was he even considering helping her out? Because he probably wasn’t much different than Eric, the guard stationed at the gate. A beautiful woman who needed help was hard to resist.
“I’m sorry to inconvenience you like this.” She ran a hand through her hair, rumpling the golden-brown waves that cascaded down her shoulders.
“Don’t worry about it. I can reschedule the meetings on my calendar.” Just not the one next week with the Department of Defense. He couldn’t lose that contract. He’d been working toward it for the past nine months.
He pulled forward, looking for a place to turn around.
That’s when he heard a pop. The back window shattered.
“Get down!” He pushed Julianne to the floor as he swerved the SUV around, barely avoiding the ditch on the other side of the road.
Another bullet exploded against the passenger window. Shards of glass rained to the floor.
Just what was going on? He prayed that God would shield them from the danger that was closing in.
THREE
The fear that coursed through Julianne made her powerless to scream, to move. Thankfully, Bradley had pushed her to the floor. If not, she would have been an easy target as she’d sat frozen in the passenger seat.
Would Bradley believe her now?
How could he not?
Her heart pounded in her ears, each beat quick and frantic.
She’d thought the nightmare of Darrell was over when he died. Maybe it was just beginning, though. Maybe the terror she’d felt when they’d dated was just a prelude of even worse things to come.
“Is there anything you’re not telling me, Julianne?” Bradley’s grip was tight on the steering wheel as he swerved to right the vehicle after the bullets had assailed them. He accelerated, flying down the road with so much speed that a wave of nausea rose to her throat. “What do you mean?”
“Who’s shooting at us?” he demanded.
“I told you. Darrell Lewis.”
“Darrell is dead.”
“Then I have no idea.” She came to her senses enough to hold her hands over her head as bits of glass continued to shower down over her. “Do you believe me now that something is going on?”
“I believe something is going on.”
What did that mean? Was he implying that she actually had something to do with this? Why would she?
The vehicle slowed as distance stretched between them and the shoote
r. But the intensity didn’t leave Bradley’s gaze, didn’t slacken his grip on the wheel or the set of his shoulders.
Julianne pulled herself up from the floor, pieces of glass falling from her hair and clinking against the leather upholstered seat. Her elbow throbbed; she vaguely remembered jamming it on the console on her way down. It didn’t seem important at the time—staying alive did. Now she realized she’d have a nice bruise there to remind her of today’s events. She’d take a bruise over the alternatives—which included death.
“You okay?”
She nodded. “I guess.”
They pulled up to the Eyes headquarters, and Julianne could tell that Bradley stewed over the situation. She let him, sensing he needed space to sort out his thoughts.
When she got out of the car, she wished she still had Bradley’s jacket and that she wasn’t so stubborn. If she wore it now, however, she’d feel like a traitor. She wasn’t sure if he was a friend or foe—but the majority of times since she’d encountered him, he felt like an enemy.
He ushered her inside, then paused at the stairway and pulled out his phone. Who could he possibly be calling right now? Maybe he was turning her in? Maybe he thought this whole situation was her doing? She had no clue.
She wandered to the fireplace. What now? No car. No money. No friends.
Lord, you’ve always taken care of me, but even I can’t see a way out of this situation. What am I going to do?
God concerned himself with the lilies of the field. Certainly, he’d concern himself with her also. She was simply at the point where how that would play out seemed unfathomable.
A man in uniform came down the stairs and stopped beside Bradley. He greeted the newcomer and pointed to her. “Julianne, I need you to stay with Wayne while I take care of some business.”
“Is he my babysitter?” she asked, indignation creeping up her spine.
Bradley shifted, almost appearing like a disgruntled father figure. “No, not a babysitter. But you don’t have the clearance to be here. I need to call a tow truck and settle some other business. Wayne here will take you to get some food and make sure you’re comfortable for a few minutes while I get my affairs in order.”
Guilt rushed through her. She shouldn’t have been so quick to judge. He was just trying to help her, she chided herself. When would she ever be able to trust another man?
Never, she thought.
Not after all the abuse she’d endured at the hands of her fiancé. As much as she’d hoped and prayed to one day get past all this, now she knew that she simply needed to find contentment in being single—forever.
She nodded and licked her lips as he walked away. Her temporary guard led her to the cafeteria. Her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten yet today. She had some leftover pasta in the fridge at her apartment that she’d planned on heating up.
Wasn’t that her life most days? Cook for herself. Work by herself. Counsel others on the emergency hotline while never applying her own advice?
She’d made some effort to merge into the social scene again. She’d begun to see a counselor to get over her paralyzing fears—but then he’d died in the auto accident. She’d gone into the office three days a week and worked at home the other two. Once a month, she traveled to visit her parents, and on Sundays she went to church. Mostly, she liked to stay in by herself, though. The confines of her apartment felt safe.
She knew this was no way to live and that she shouldn’t let one person dictate her fears...but how could she forget? The scar across her collarbone reminded her every day about the damage another person was capable of inflicting—and that was just the physical damage. The emotional damage...well, that went deeper than any scar tissue could.
She picked up a sandwich, some fruit and a bottle of water. As she sat at the table and stared out the window, her appetite vanished and worry set in once again.
She would get through this, she reminded herself. She’d find a way.
After all, nothing was impossible with God.
But, right now, the impossible seemed to be staring her in the face.
* * *
Bradley needed to tell his boss, Jack Sergeant, about what was going on, especially since Julianne Grace had showed up here right when they were on the cusp of signing a huge contract with the Department of Defense. He also needed a moment away from Julianne and her whirlwind story. How had today turned into such a circus? He caught Jack in his office and gave him the detailed version of events.
“What do you know about the woman?” Jack crossed his arms and leaned against his desk. He was a tall, broad man in his early thirties who had perceptive eyes and a head full of close-cropped dark hair. He was also one of the toughest soldiers Bradley had ever met.
Bradley sat down in the chair across from him, his head still spinning. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully before shaking his head. “Not much. Just that she was engaged to one of my men back when I was a SEAL. I haven’t seen her in two years, and then she showed up here today out of the blue.”
“What about this guy she was engaged to?” Jack asked. “Tell me about him.”
“He was brazen, smart, a little headstrong.” Bradley shook his head again. “I don’t know. I always wondered if there was something a little off about him. But people say you have to be a little crazy to be a SEAL. He passed all of the physical and psychological tests—you know how hard that is.” Jack had been a SEAL also, but he’d never worked with Darrell.
His boss’s hands went to his hips. “Even if she set up the car herself to make it look like something happened, there’s no way she could have fired the shots at herself.”
Bradley had thought of that. “But a dead fiancé couldn’t have fired them, either.”
“Are you sure he’s dead?” In typical Jack fashion, the man didn’t even blink as he waited.
“If he staged his own death, then he’s brilliant. The explosion happened, and I was on the scene two minutes later. I don’t see any way it couldn’t have been Darrell, not to mention that the autopsy confirmed it.” Bradley ran a hand over his jaw. “Terror groups have had us in their sights with this new contract on the horizon. Maybe someone is paying off Julianne, using her as a decoy to distract us.”
“What are you going to do, then?”
That was the question of the hour. “I can’t exactly send her on her way. She has no car, no money and nowhere to turn.”
“If she is a decoy, maybe we should keep our eye on her.”
Just then Bradley’s cell phone rang. He recognized the number’s prefix as the local police department. He furrowed his brows before answering, instantly on guard for whatever this conversation might hold.
“Is this Bradley Stone?” a man asked.
He tensed. “Yes, it is.”
“Mr. Stone, this is Virginia Beach police detective Arnold Spencer. Did you have a car towed to First Class Auto on Princess Anne Road today?”
“I did.” He blew out a breath, not liking where this conversation was going.
“We need you to come down to the station so we can ask you a few questions.”
Ask him a few questions? Why? Just what had he gotten himself mixed up in? “Questions pertaining to what?”
“When the mechanic started the engine, the car burst into flames. One man is in critical condition and two others are injured.”
Bradley closed his eyes. The car exploded? Was Julianne the intended target? Or had she lured him to the scene, hoping he’d be the next victim?
* * *
Julianne sat in the same chair by the fireplace, finding comfort in the familiar—though it had only been familiar for the past couple of hours. But she’d take whatever she could get. Wayne stood a respectful distance away, subtly alert to everything around him.
What was Bradley doing? Calling the police to com
e take her away? Certainly he couldn’t still be skeptical. After all, she couldn’t have fired that gun at herself.
But Bradley was unreadable. How ironic that her only shot at finding answers was in the form of a cold, heartless man who only cared about his career. She’d been shocked to learn he’d even gotten out of the navy. He seemed like the career military type.
Just then, Julianne heard someone stomping down the stairs. She looked up and saw Bradley. The scowl on his face told her that something was wrong. What now? Had he found something else out and changed his mind about helping her? She sighed with frustration. Why had she turned to this man in the first place? He’d hardly ever spoken to her.
But Darrell had always held him in such high regard. And, even though her fiancé lacked character, he seemed to know a good thing when he had it. He’d talked about how Bradley would risk his life for others. How he was tough but fair. How he’d climbed his way to the top, despite his hard childhood. He’d proven that you could be anything you wanted to be.
That’s what Darrell had said.
At the time, Julianne had dismissed the praise. She’d had other things to worry about—like how to break up with Darrell and survive.
But after the events of the past couple of months, Bradley’s face had continually popped into her mind.
And almost every time it did, the man was scowling, just like he was right now. She stood, wiping any crumbs from her pants and hoping there were none on her face, for that matter.
“Commander.” She nodded.
“Just call me Bradley.” He stopped in front of her, paused and then shifted. The motion only lasted three seconds, but those three seconds were long enough to put Julianne on edge. He was going to tell her something—something that wasn’t good. She could sense it, and her muscles tensed as she waited. “You need to come with me down to the police station.”
The anxiety fluttering through her body intensified. Was he turning her in? What was she guilty of? Her gaze shifted around her. Could she run? No, there were too many people around to stop her. She was going to have to face this head on. Her gaze met Bradley’s again. “What’s going on?”
Lifeline Page 3
