Lifeline

by Christy Barritt

  Bradley settled back into his seat as they began their trip. “What did you do before you worked for this hotline, Julianne?”

  She brushed some stray crumbs from her dress. “I worked at an after-school program for at-risk children in Norfolk.”

  “That’s what you were doing when you met Darrell?” He took a long sip of his soda.

  She nodded. “I loved it. Those kids were great, and it was a wonderful opportunity to truly make a difference in their lives. All those kids wanted was someone to love them and give them attention and delight in their accomplishments, to help them navigate through the hard times. For one reason or another, most of them didn’t get that at home.”

  “You quit because you moved to the D.C. area?”

  “I quit as soon as Darrell left to train in Arizona. I knew I had to report him and then get away. The acid burn crippled me emotionally, you could say. All I wanted to do was hibernate by myself. Even when I thought Darrell was dead, I still felt like I couldn’t trust people, like some basic instinct inside me had been broken.”

  “What he did to you would be enough to make anyone like that.”

  The compassion in his voice made her want to tear down the walls around her heart. She cleared her throat and focused on anything but Bradley. “I found a new job up in D.C. It didn’t pay much. We were funded by grants and donations. I started writing the grants for the organization and figured out I was pretty good at that, so I took on some freelance grant writing and that helped to make ends meet. Most jobs in my profession don’t pay well.”

  “I’m sure Rachel and Elle could use your help with grant writing since they both run nonprofits.”

  She wondered for a moment what it would be like to stick around, to get to know Rachel and Elle better, to be a part of their inner circle. Focus, Julianne. Focus. “I actually enjoyed grant writing more than I thought. But what I really love doing is helping people.”

  “So what would your dream job be?”

  “Funny that you ask because I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately. I don’t really know. I just know I like helping people sort out their lives. Maybe I’d like to work with battered women.” Sighing softly, she pondered the thought. “I’ve been in denial for a long time, but that’s what I was. It’s who I still am, because I’ve carried the effects of it with me for a while now. Sometimes the best way to overcome the hurts in your own life is to help others with their pain and to show them Christ’s love.”

  Julianne was surprised at how easily their conversation flowed for the rest of the trip. They talked about everything from movies, to sports, to family and food. Before she realized how much time had gone by, they were pulling off the interstate and up to her apartment building.

  The massive brick structure was located in a cluster of other similar buildings in one of the more rundown areas of town. It wasn’t an ideal location, but it was affordable and she’d convinced her landlord to replace the carpet before she’d signed her lease.

  Bradley walked close as they hurried toward the door to her building. They stepped inside, and the smell of popcorn and Clorox saturated the stairwell that cut through the center of the complex. Julianne’s place was located on the first floor. She pulled her keys out and faced the door as a heavy sense of trepidation fell over her.

  The keys in her hands trembled so badly that Bradley took them from her and opened the door himself. When the inside of her apartment came into view, Julianne gasped and stepped back.

  The place was a mess—completely ransacked. Someone had obviously been here and they’d been looking for something. But what?

  “Stay there.” Bradley pulled his gun out and stepped inside.

  Shakes overtook her as she stood in the doorway, observing the mess inside. Drawers had been dumped. Her couch cushions had been sliced open. Her TV had been smashed.

  Bradley reappeared a moment later. “All clear.”

  She stepped inside, grateful for Bradley’s hand on her elbow. “I don’t get it.”

  “There are a lot of things that don’t make sense right now. Why don’t you get the things you need while I call the police?”

  She nodded and dodged the mess on the floor to get to her bedroom. She shuffled through papers and broken vases and scattered clothing until she found some files she needed for work, her cell phone charger, several changes of clothes and some toiletry items.

  When she stepped back into the hallway, a wave of sadness hit her. Why did she have a feeling that this would be one of the last times she set foot here? Would that be by choice or by force? She wasn’t sure.

  ELEVEN

  Bradley kept one eye on his rearview mirror as he drove back to Virginia Beach. The police had shown up rather quickly, taken their statements, and then they’d gotten back on the road. An hour into the trip, Julianne had closed her eyes and her breathing had evened out. She’d fallen asleep, and Bradley had no intention of waking her.

  He hated to think of Julianne living in such a rough area. Groups of people hung outside the apartments with beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. They weren’t the type of people you wanted to invite over for dinner. No, gang activity was rampant there and he’d bet most of them had a rap sheet.

  Still, she’d done what she could to stand on her own two feet. He had to admire her for that. She’d done her best with her given circumstances. However, his mind ran through possible ways of keeping her from ever having to go back there to live again. Maybe she’d accept a position at Eyes permanently? Or perhaps Rachel or Elle could use her at their nonprofits? He didn’t know anything for sure, except that the thought of her moving away caused a strange ache to pierce his heart.

  He glanced in the rearview mirror. A black sedan followed them. Every time he switched lanes, accelerated or slowed, the sedan mirrored him. The dark glass on the car’s windows didn’t allow Bradley to see the driver.

  Spontaneously, he pulled off the interstate and cut onto an exit ramp. He watched in his rearview mirror as the car zoomed past. Good. Maybe he’d lost them.

  Julianne raised her head, blinking as if trying to gather her surroundings. “What’s going on? Where are we?”

  “Just a little detour.”

  “Detour? Why?” she asked drowsily.

  “I thought there might be someone following us.”

  She suddenly gripped the armrest and pushed herself upright. “Did we lose them?”

  “It looks like it. I’m going to keep my eyes open, though.”

  She yawned and rubbed her hands over her eyes. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

  “You must have needed your rest.”

  “That was probably the best I’ve slept in a couple of weeks.” As soon as the words left her mouth, her cheeks filled with color. “I haven’t felt very safe lately, I guess.”

  The sun had set now, and darkness surrounded the car. The nighttime would make it harder to see a vehicle behind them, but he hoped if he continued on the back roads it would be easier.

  “What was your fiancée like, Bradley?”

  Normally, he shut down when people wanted to talk about Vanessa. But, for some reason, he didn’t mind talking about her with Julianne.

  “She was spunky and animated. She had a good heart. She put up with me.” He grinned.

  Julianne laughed softly. “Big job, huh? How’d you meet?”

  “Through a mutual friend.”

  “You were never married before?”

  He cast a quick glance her way. “No. Why?”

  “I bet women were knocking down your door to get dates with you.”

  “And why’s that?”

  He smiled when he saw the blush stain her cheeks again.

  “Oh, come on. You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?” She cast a knowing glance hi
s way.

  “Of course.”

  “You’re good-looking—”

  “You think I’m good-looking?”

  She ignored him and continued. “Successful. Stable. You don’t go out to the bars every night or have three different kids by three different mothers or have dirty magazines hiding in your bathroom.”

  “You looked in my bathroom?”

  She shrugged. “I cleaned your bathroom. I was bored, you know.”

  His smile dimmed, and he shrugged. “I’ve never wanted to settle. I was waiting for the woman that would knock my socks off.”

  “And Vanessa did that.” Her voice sounded soft, wistful almost.

  How could he tell her that she was the type of woman he’d been waiting for? He couldn’t. Not now, at least. He knew that she needed time and space, and he planned to give that to her.

  “I’m not going to lie. My grief after losing her almost did me in. All I knew about her killer was that he wore a size twelve shoe, he carried a nine-millimeter gun and he got into my house with no sign of forced entry.”

  “Maybe she answered the door, thinking the man there worked for you.”

  He nodded stiffly. “I’ve thought about that before.” He gaze traveled to his rearview mirror. A new set of headlights appeared. Could the person following them have gotten off another exit and managed to find them again? His shoulders tensed. It was a possibility. “There was a man arrested for some break-ins at other houses in the area. The police thought, at first, that maybe he was guilty, but he never confessed to it. All of the leads dried up.”

  Silence stretched. Finally, he exited the highway and pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant. He glanced over at Julianne. Light from a street lamp illuminated her soft profile as she stared out the window.

  He cleared his throat. “Hungry?”

  Her wide, doelike eyes met his. “Now that you mention it, yes, I am.”

  He glanced in the mirror again and saw that the car continued past. A black sedan. They were definitely being followed. But by who?

  He kept an eye on their surroundings as he ushered Julianne into the chain restaurant. Even when they were seated at a table and ordered their food, Bradley kept his gaze trained outside the window. No sooner had the waitress set a side salad in front of Elle did he see the sedan pull back in. The driver remained inside.

  “Is everything okay?” Julianne asked.

  He placed his napkin on the table and stood. “Can you excuse me a moment? I need to take care of something.”

  Julianne rubbed her lips together as if stopping herself from asking the questions that wanted to escape. Instead, she gave him a jerky nod. Bradley crept outside and went around the opposite side of the building with his gun drawn. He hunkered down behind some cars until he reached the black sedan. Slowly, he moved along the side of the vehicle, crouched low. He reached the door and threw it open, his gun pointed at the driver.

  “Would you like to tell me why you’re following us?”

  The man in the driver’s seat blinked and threw his hands in the air. “Don’t shoot. I didn’t do anything.”

  The middle-aged man had a slight build, messy hair and an even messier car. He was white, wore a stained sweatshirt and had the remains of his dinner dangling from the unkempt hairs of his beard.

  Bradley grabbed his arm. “Get out of the car. Now.”

  The man climbed out, his hands still raised and a tremor shaking them. “Just don’t shoot me. Please. I have a family.”

  Bradley kept his gun concealed, so any of the cars zooming past on the highway wouldn’t become alarmed. “Then start talking. Now.”

  His gaze went to the barrel of Bradley’s gun. He swallowed hard and a layer of sweat appeared on his forehead. “I was hired to trail you.”

  “By whom?”

  “I don’t know.” The man shook his head, his eyes pleading for mercy.

  Bradley cocked the gun. “I said, by whom?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know. It was all done over the phone. He paid me online.” The man’s voice rose in pitch.

  “What were his instructions?”

  “I had to follow both of you and call to give him updates on where you were.”

  “Why?”

  “He didn’t say. I didn’t ask...it wasn’t any of my business. I figured it was a cheating spouse or something. Those are most of the cases I’m hired for.” He mopped his sweaty brow. “He paid me. He paid me well, almost double what I normally get.”

  Someone with money and a plan, Bradley noted. “Did the man have an accent?”

  “No. He sounded normal. You know, American.”

  That ruled out a member of the Amigos and left, most likely, Darrell or someone pretending to be Darrell. “How many times have you called this man?”

  “Every hour. He needed to know when you got closer to Virginia Beach.”

  Warning signals went off in Bradley’s mind. What exactly was someone doing back in Virginia Beach? He didn’t know. He just knew he needed to get back there. Now.

  He pulled a zip tie from his pocket and secured the man’s hand to the outside door handle. He wouldn’t be going anywhere—not until the police got here, at least. As a final precaution, he took the man’s keys and tossed them into a drainage ditch behind him. Bradley would call the police on the road.

  He went inside the restaurant and motioned Julianne from the door. She hurried toward him. “What’s going on?” Her eyes were wide with fear. She glanced back at the man muttering outside the black sedan.

  “We’ve got to go. I’ll fill you in on things en route.”

  * * *

  Julianne’s muscles had never felt as tight as they did while on the ride home. Why would someone—most likely Darrell—hire someone to trail them? He seemed more like the type to pursue them himself.

  Unless he couldn’t because he had something else to do.

  The thought didn’t bring any comfort.

  They pulled up to Bradley’s house. The car belonging to the Eyes agent still sat in the driveway. His silhouette could be seen through the window.

  Bradley turned toward her. “Lock the doors. Don’t move. Understand?” His tone of voice brooked no argument.

  She nodded.

  He pressed something into her hand. “Just in case you need it.”

  “A gun?” The metal felt hot in her hands. She’d never fired a weapon before. Never.

  “Just pull the trigger if you have to, and only if you have to.”

  His hand still remained over hers. His touch brought an unusual amount of strength to her. “Don’t you need it?”

  “I have another one. I’ll be fine.”

  Before he got out of the car, she grabbed his hand and he turned back toward her. “Please be careful.”

  His eyes softened for a moment. “I will.”

  His hand slipped away, and she missed it instantly somehow. As the door slammed, she hit the lock button and slid down in her seat, watching everything around her with heightened awareness. Bradley knocked at the window of the car in front of them. The next second, he opened the door and the man inside fell to the ground.

  Julianne covered her mouth as her jaw dropped open in horror. Was he dead? What had happened to him? Fear churned through her.

  Bradley motioned for her to call the police. Her fingers shook as she grabbed the phone from her pocket and dialed 911. As she told the operator what had happened, Bradley ascended the steps and disappeared from view.

  She prayed, hard and fervently. Every instinct in her screamed that she should go help the agent on the ground. But she’d promised Bradley that she’d stay put. Sitting in the car made her feel helpless, though.

  She gripped the door handle, torn between a promise and the need to hel
p.

  Lord, what should I do?

  * * *

  Bradley crept toward the front door. The hurricane shades, thick metal blinds that protected the windows in storms, had been pulled down over the windows. The door was ajar, though barely.

  Someone had been here. The question was were they still here?

  Cautiously, Bradley stepped into his house. Everything was silent around him. Eerily silent and still.

  He scanned his living room, the kitchen and everything else within sight. Every sense was heightened. Nothing appeared touched, but he knew better. Someone hadn’t broken in just for kicks. They’d broken in for a reason. A bomb? A surprise attack? He didn’t know.

  Slowly, methodically, he checked each room on the second floor. He saw nothing. No one. But the nagging feeling that he wasn’t alone remained with him.

  Had something been taken? Some of his files perhaps? Though they were kept under lock and key, someone might not have known that. They might have tried to locate them.

  He climbed to the third story of the home where his office, two extra bedrooms and a storage room were located. The bedrooms looked untouched, so he proceeded toward his office. He pushed open the door.

  The place was ransacked. The filing cabinet had been knocked over, the computer screen smashed, papers scattered everywhere.

  What had someone been searching for? And if they were simply looking for something, what was the purpose of pulling down the hurricane guards?

  He’d worry about that later. Right now, he needed to get back downstairs and check on Julianne. He prayed this hadn’t been a ruse to simply get to her.

  As he descended the stairs, his head swam. The trip must be taking a toll on him because he was suddenly feeling exhausted and sluggish.

  He paused as he reached the bottom step. What was different since he was down here last?

  He scanned the area, stopping at the front of the house.

  He’d left the front door open, he realized. He was sure of it.

  So why was it closed now?