Hearts Divided

by Debbie Macomber

  “I was born in Seattle. I’ve lived here all my life, except for a few years while my father taught at UC Berkeley.”

  “Your father’s a professor, too?”

  “He was—his field of study was mathematics. He passed away when I was six.” Chloe gestured across campus at the math and science buildings. “Abbott Library over there is named after him.”

  “So you’re a third-generation UW professor. That makes you a legend here.”

  Chloe laughed. “That’s true.” Her smile became a frown and she slowed, looking over her shoulder.

  “Something wrong?”

  She didn’t answer immediately, but he saw her shiver as she scanned the students on the sidewalk behind them.

  “What is it?” Jake asked.

  “Nothing. At least, nothing I can see.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve had this creepy feeling for the past few days—as if someone’s watching me. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear I’m being followed.”

  Jake stopped, drawing her with him off the sidewalk and onto the grass. The flow of pedestrian traffic continued past them, the walkway crowded with noisy students on their way to lunch.

  “You think you’re being stalked?” He searched her face, read the uneasiness on her features and looked back at the busy sidewalk, studying the crowd for any visible threat.

  It can’t be a coincidence that she feels she’s being followed so soon after meeting me, Jake thought grimly.

  He’d never forgive himself if he’d made Chloe a target for whoever had been following him for the last six weeks.

  Three

  Jake shifted her behind him, concealing her from the crowd with his body while he continued to inspect the busy walkway.

  “I haven’t actually seen anyone following me but I have this…this eerie feeling that I’m being watched.” Chloe’s fingers closed over his forearm and she felt his muscles flex. “I swear the hair rises on the back of my neck.”

  “When in doubt, trust your gut instinct,” he said. “If something doesn’t feel right, it probably isn’t. Soldiers learn that lesson the first week in a combat zone.”

  “I’ve never had anything like this happen to me before,” Chloe told him. “I’ve read about it, and seen it in movies. But in real life and to me personally? No.”

  “You sound more annoyed than scared.” Jake swept one more glance over the surrounding area. “Do you still feel you’re being watched?”

  Chloe paused, assessing, and was relieved when she realized the eerie feeling had disappeared. “No.”

  “Good.” He checked his watch. “Let’s resume this over lunch.” He took her arm and they left the grass for the sidewalk. He didn’t return to the subject of a possible stalker until they were seated at the restaurant with slices of hot pizza and cold drinks in front of them.

  “What about a boyfriend?”

  Startled, she looked up, her glass of ice water halfway to her lips. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Have you had a fight with a boyfriend lately?”

  “I’m not dating anyone at present.” Chloe caught a quick flash of satisfaction.

  “What about ex-boyfriends? Any relationships that ended badly? Guys who might be looking for revenge?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Definitely not a possible scenario.”

  “That leaves us with professional enemies.”

  “I work in the English Department at a university,” Chloe said. “None of my fellow assistant professors are the James Bond type. In fact…” She smiled. “My sister calls them Woody Allen–wannabes.”

  “Really?” He raised his eyebrows. “That bad, huh?”

  “Not bad,” she protested. “They’re very nice men.”

  “Hmm,” he murmured, but didn’t comment further. “So you have a sister?”

  “I have two, actually.”

  “Either of them have a reason to follow or threaten you?”

  “No.” A swift mental image of Alexie made Chloe laugh.

  “What?”

  “I just pictured Alexie trying to stalk me. She has no patience—she’d last maybe two minutes before she confronted me and told me exactly what she wanted.”

  “I think I like her.” Jake’s lips curved in a smile. “Apparently both you and Alexie inherited some of your grandmother Winifred’s character traits. You said you have two sisters?”

  Chloe nodded. “Alexie is my older sister. Lily is younger than me by five years. And before you ask…” She held up her hand to forestall his next question. “Lily’s on a buying trip in Europe for her lingerie boutique. And my mother’s with her, so neither of them could possibly be connected to this. Not that there’s any possibility of that, anyway,” she added. “I have a normal family, Jake. And I live a perfectly average life. I have no idea why someone would want to follow me or who this person might be.”

  “Maybe you have nothing to worry about,” he said calmly. “Have you talked to the police?”

  “No. What would I tell them—that I feel someone watching me?” She frowned. “They’d call in a psychiatrist and have me committed.”

  “Not necessarily. They get more complaints like yours than you might think.”

  “I’m guessing they file them in the ‘paranoid’ folder.” Chloe was unconvinced. “I’d rather wait until I have something concrete to tell them before I call.”

  “What sort of evidence are you waiting for?”

  “I don’t know.” Chloe bit her lip, considering. “Something beyond an uneasy feeling. If I’d actually seen the person who’s following me, then I’d have something solid for the police to investigate.”

  “But you haven’t noticed anyone unusual or out of the ordinary? No one who made you feel uncomfortable?”

  Chloe instantly thought of the man wearing sunglasses outside David’s shop.

  “What is it?”

  “Probably nothing.”

  “Tell me.”

  “The other afternoon I was in downtown Seattle, picking up a gift for my grandmother’s birthday. I saw a man outside the shop who seemed to be staring at me through the glass. But I may have been imagining it. I turned to speak to David and when I looked back, the man was gone.”

  “Could you describe him?”

  She called up the image of the man at David’s shop and told Jake the few things she remembered.

  “Any distinctive features?” Jake asked.

  “No.”

  “Have you seen the man since then?”

  “No.”

  “But you still feel as if someone’s following you.” Jake’s words were more a confirmation than a question.

  Chloe stared at him. His face was set in grim lines. Despite the sunshine that poured through the window behind her, Chloe shivered. “You think I’m being stalked. You believe me.”

  “Yes.” Jake’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve gone pale as a ghost.”

  Chloe crossed her arms. The short-sleeved, light cotton sweater she wore over her sleeveless summer dress suddenly wasn’t heavy enough to warm her. “Telling you about it has somehow made it more real.”

  “I didn’t mean to scare you more than you already are, Chloe.” Jake stretched across the table and took her hand, folding it between his palms. The heat from his hands warmed her chilled fingers and reached past the fear to stir the sexual awareness that always simmered just below the surface when he was near. “We’ll find out who the man is, why he’s following you and what he wants.”

  “But I didn’t know the man I saw through the window. I have no idea who he is or why he’d follow me.”

  “First things first. We should tell the police. Even though you don’t have a lot of information, they can at least take a report and establish a file. Who knows?” Jake shrugged. “Maybe something you tell them will fit into a bigger puzzle, since we have no idea what connection you have with this man.”

  “I have a one o’clock lecture, but after that I’m free for th
e rest of the afternoon. I’ll drive downtown to the Seattle Police Department when I’m finished.”

  “I’ll make a couple of calls. I’m sure they’ll send an officer out here to talk with you.”

  “I’d rather meet the officer off campus. I’d like to keep this from my colleagues and students, if possible.”

  “All right.” Jake looked at his watch. “We’d better leave if you’re going to make your one o’clock class.”

  “Is it that late already?” Chloe checked her own watch, slid out of the booth and grabbed her purse, waiting while Jake paid their bill.

  He took her arm as they left the restaurant, surveying the student and faculty pedestrians as they crossed the campus.

  “As first dates go, this has been memorable,” he said when they reached her office at Liberty Hall. He leaned against the doorjamb, waiting for her.

  Chloe slipped her lecture notes and two volumes of poetry into her briefcase and rejoined him. “Are you telling me most women you take out for pizza don’t require bodyguard services?” she asked wryly.

  “Not usually, no.” He looked sideways at her and grinned. Sunlight shafted through the high windows at the end of the hall and burnished his dark hair. Chloe couldn’t help smiling back. She felt safer with him nearby.

  She touched his hand. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I didn’t realize how worried I’ve been. I feel safer just knowing you’re taking me seriously.”

  His eyes darkened and he covered her hand with his, trapping her fingers against his warm skin. “I’m glad.”

  A door slammed down the hall, the noise breaking the charged moment between them, and Chloe slipped her hand from his. “I’d better go.”

  “I’ll walk with you.”

  Jake fell into step beside her as they left Liberty Hall and walked the short distance to her classroom. She said goodbye and entered the lecture hall on the lower level; Jake followed her, stopping on the threshold to peruse the room. Directly in front of him was a speaker’s table where Chloe was arranging a couple of books and a sheaf of notes. Beyond the small instructor area, theater seats rose in tiers to a set of upper doors where students were entering. The room was filling quickly. Satisfied that Chloe was safe for the moment, Jake stepped outside, lowered the doorstop to keep the door open and moved to the shade of a walnut tree several yards across the lawn. He dropped onto a bench beneath the big old tree and pulled out his cell phone to call his office.

  “Morrissey Demolition.”

  “Barbara, I need you to cancel my afternoon appointments.”

  “Sure, boss. Should I reschedule?”

  “No. Tell them I’m dealing with an emergency situation and you’ll call tomorrow to arrange another time.”

  “All right. Everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine. I should be in the office late this afternoon. Thanks, Barbara.” He hung up and dialed the cell-phone number for Gray Stewart, an old friend and a detective with the Seattle Police Department. While he waited for Gray to answer, he watched Chloe through the open hall door. She walked back and forth as she spoke, pausing to ask and answer questions, unmistakably passionate about the subject under discussion, whatever it might be.

  “Hello.”

  “Gray, it’s Jake. I’ve got a problem. I think whoever’s been following me has started stalking a woman I’m seeing.”

  “The brunette in the Tribune photo?”

  Jake groaned out loud. “Has the entire world seen that picture?”

  “Probably all of Seattle, at least,” Gray said, clearly amused.

  “Well, hell.” He paused. “Yeah, it’s the same woman. I just had lunch with her and she told me she’s felt someone watching her, off and on, since a day or so after the picture was in the paper.”

  “The timing’s pretty suspicious. Anything else happen to her? Any threatening letters or a dead rat left on her doorstep?”

  “No. And I don’t want her to know about the letter and the blown-apart sewer rat I got. I’d like you to talk to her, though.”

  “All right. Tell her to come to the station this afternoon.”

  “I’d rather take her myself and meet you somewhere outside your office. She’s teaching a class right now, but we could be there by two-thirty.”

  “All right. Meet me at Rosa’s Downtown at two-thirty. And you’re buying my coffee and doughnuts. You still owe me twenty bucks from the last poker game.”

  “You got it.”

  For the next hour, Jake returned messages and caught up on business calls, sitting under the walnut tree. He stood up and waited inside the doorway when Chloe dismissed class. As she collected her books and purse, he assessed the students leaving through the exit at the top of the tiered seats. None of them did anything to rouse his suspicions; they all appeared to be typical college freshmen. Students still crowded the aisle leading to the exit above when Chloe joined him.

  “I called the Seattle P.D. and made arrangements for you to talk to Gray Stewart.”

  “Is he the officer handling harassment reports?”

  “Not exactly.” Jake took her briefcase. “Gray and I went to high school together. After we graduated, I enlisted in the Marine Corps and he joined the Seattle P.D. He’s a detective now.”

  “I see.”

  “I’m parked this way.” He pointed toward the visitors’ lot.

  “My car’s in the faculty lot in the opposite direction.” Chloe reached for her briefcase. “Thanks for all your help, Jake.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll drive you downtown. We’ll come back and pick up your car when you’re finished talking with Gray.”

  “I can’t let you do that,” she protested. “I’m sure you must have a dozen ways to spend your afternoon that would be more fun than waiting for me in a police station.”

  “Nope, not a thing.” He took her arm and turned her toward the lot where he’d left his car. “Besides, Gray’s meeting us at Rosa’s Downtown, a restaurant near his office. I told him I’d come with you.”

  “I feel guilty for taking up so much of your day,” Chloe said as she walked beside him toward his car.

  “I’m sure we can think of a way for you to repay me,” he drawled.

  His voice was blatantly suggestive. Chloe glanced over and caught him watching her.

  “Really? And what might that be?” Her voice was cool.

  Jake laughed. “Nothing gets past you, does it? All I meant was that you can let me take you to dinner. Preferably soon.”

  “Hmm.” She was very sure that wasn’t what he’d meant.

  “Not that I won’t be happy to cooperate if you have something friendlier in mind,” he said.

  “I’ll let you know when I do,” she murmured.

  “You do that. Here we are.” Jake touched the button on his key chain, and the brake lights flashed on a black Porsche.

  He opened the passenger door and Chloe slid into the seat, fastening her seat belt. He rounded the hood of the car and stowed her briefcase before he got in.

  Chloe ran her hand over the soft leather upholstery and eyed the panel of gauges on the dashboard. “Nice car.”

  “Thanks. I like it.” The engine turned over with a throaty growl when he twisted the ignition key. He shifted into gear and backed out of the parking space.

  “Did I mention I drive a Volvo?” she asked mildly.

  “No.” He looked at her and smiled. “But if you’re wondering how fast I drive, I never race on city streets or the freeway.”

  “Good to know.”

  He watched the black Porsche’s taillights blink red when the car slowed at the exit before pulling out into traffic.

  He no longer wondered whether the connection between Morrissey and the lady professor was important. He wasn’t positive just how deep the lady’s feelings went, but he’d observed Jake Morrissey with other women. This one was different.

  Excellent.

  It was time to set in motion the next phase of his plan. Just as Morri
ssey had been responsible for the death of his son, so would he be responsible for the death of Chloe Abbott. Morrissey Demolition’s current job site was located southeast of downtown Seattle in a rural area. The small building holding Jake’s powder magazine was padlocked and enclosed inside chain-link fencing, along with the huge earth-moving equipment used by the highway contractor.

  He knew exactly how to bypass the alarm, enter the building and get to the powder magazine that held the company’s supply of dynamite. All the equipment required was a small bolt cutter and wire cutters. He didn’t need to steal more than one stick of dynamite and a detonator cap for the justice and revenge he craved.

  He smiled, imagining Chloe Abbott and Liberty Hall’s bell tower blowing sky-high.

  It was almost too easy.

  Four

  “There’s Gray.” Jake pointed at a booth near the back of the restaurant. He dropped his hand to her waist to gently urge Chloe ahead of him and they made their way to the rear of the room.

  The man who rose to meet them was as tall as Jake, but his build and coloring were the opposite. With tawny hair and brown eyes, Gray was lean where Jake was burly. Jake introduced Chloe and she slid into the booth, studying the two men while they talked.

  “I ordered coffee for us.”

  “No doughnuts?” Jake said.

  “No, but since you’re buying, I’m thinking of ordering an eight-course meal for four.”

  “It’s too late for lunch and too early for dinner,” Jake pointed out.

  “I’ll ask for a doggie bag.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  The waitress interrupted them, pouring coffee into their cups.

  “So, Chloe.” Gray shifted his focus when she’d left. “Jake tells me you’re having a problem with someone following you?”

  “I haven’t exactly had a problem yet. It’s more like I’m afraid I might have a problem. So far, I’ve had the uneasy feeling that someone’s watching me, sometimes following me, but that’s all.” She tore open a packet and stirred sugar into her coffee, looking up in time to catch a swift exchange of glances between Gray and Jake.