In the dim light from the window, Sam saw the fear in her eyes, and now it was mixed with anger—probably at what she considered her weakness. As a civilian, she wouldn't understand that fear was a valuable and natural survival mechanism, not a sign of weakness.
There was a light tap at the door.
“Coming.” He was relieved to see that she had pulled on her blouse and was stepping into her skirt. He moved to help her fasten the last button, but even that small contact made her stiffen and push away his hand.
“Annie, we need to talk.”
“About what?”
He caught her wrist gently. “About us.”
“What us?” She moved out of reach, her body stiff. “I have to go.”
“Damn it, we need to talk.”
“Would that change anything?” She looked pale and drained. “You're a stranger, Sam. In more ways than I realized.” She bent and swept up her shoes. “We both need time to think before things go any further. If things go any further.”
She was right, of course. Only that made him cut off a curt answer.
“I'll be back later. Don't bother to wait up.”
SAM PROWLED RESTLESSLY ON HIS CRUTCHES, WATCHING IZZY make a fresh pot of coffee. “What happened out there?”
“Lightning hit a tree up in the orchard.”
Lightning.
Not gunfire, Sam thought.
Not hostile pursuit.
“Any sign of intruders?”
Izzy shook his head. “Only old Mr. Harkowitz sprinting past. Seems he enjoys wearing a flesh-colored suit for the shock value, but the lightning was too close for comfort. He looked a little shaken. So did Annie,” Izzy added.
“I noticed.” Motionless before the big window, Sam studied the distant gray swell of the Pacific. “Is she in danger?”
“Hard to say. Your presence has been buried in as many false leads as possible. The Navy even—”
“Is Annie in danger?” Sam repeated stonily.
“Possibly.” Izzy took a hard breath. “Probably.”
“Why, damn it? Her only crime is helping me.” Sam's eyes narrowed. “She's not part of this, is she? Don't tell me she's done government work.”
“Hell, no. The woman can't lie to save her life.”
Sam watched the sea pass from gray into formless black. “I guess I knew that,” he said grimly. “It's easy to forget there are honest people left.”
Alexandria, Virginia
The tidy Alexandria street was crowded. School out, kids playing, pedigree dogs barking.
Perfect little street.
Perfect little world.
The deliveryman in the brown uniform hiked two heavy boxes onto his hand truck and wheeled them deftly up the sidewalk and around to the side door, where he pulled out a clipboard.
Clipboards were the best kind of camouflage. Give a man a clipboard and he immediately assumed authority and bluecollar authenticity. No one looked at him twice.
As usual, his contacts had told him exactly what to expect.
The deliveryman made a big production of ringing the side bell, except that his finger was two inches away. Several people glanced over casually, then dismissed the sight of the man with a clipboard. He opened the door, palmed his lock pick, and maneuvered his boxes into the building's quiet foyer. From there, no one saw him take the elevator to the third floor and jimmy the lock in nine seconds. It helped that the two D.C. cops outside had just been summoned to a violent domestic argument two blocks away.
Nothing left to chance.
He listened, heard no alarm or sounds inside, then opened the door. After slipping on surgical gloves, he started taking the room apart, quiet and thorough. In eight minutes he had checked the drawers, explored beneath the beds, examined the books.
Absolutely nothing.
But there had to be something useful here. He reviewed his instructions, then checked his watch again. Eleven minutes since he'd entered the apartment. Think, damn it.
He studied the neat bookcases, the comfortable sofa, then checked the walls for hollow sections.
Nothing.
He was sweating when he went back into the kitchen, knowing the search was taking too long and cursing his failure. There had to be something in here. There was no other room left. When he lifted the range top, his lips pulled back into a tight smile.
A key was taped out of sight near the back of the metal cover. He pulled it free and read the number cut into the plastic body.
A safe deposit box?
He shoved the key into his pocket and closed the range, checking that everything was the way he'd found it. Then he opened the door and maneuvered his hand truck back out into the hall and carefully removed the plastic gloves.
No one had seen him. He checked as he returned to his truck, but no one was paying any attention to the man with the hand truck and the brown uniform.
He'd done it.
Buoyed by a rush of triumph, he packed up the truck, checked his mirror, and pulled slowly into the afternoon traffic, thinking about how he'd spend the next hundred thousand dollars.
“HE JUST LEFT. ” THE UNSMILING FEDERAL AGENT STUDIED THE street from the apartment across from Sam McKade's building. “Our person on the third floor heard him enter the apartment.” He spoke quietly into the phone, eyes to the street below. “He was inside for fourteen minutes.”
He listened and nodded. “It should have been enough time.”
Down below a truck motor growled to life.
“Virginia plates.” The agent read a string of numbers into the phone. “Run them down while I check to see if he found our surprise in the kitchen.” His eyes were hard. “Then let's find out if our little fish will lead us to a nice, big fish.”
STONES CLATTERED IN THE COURTYARD.
Opening the curtain, Sam saw Annie stretching against the wall, sleek in navy spandex. “She's going out.”
“Good thing, too. She looked pretty upset. Running might calm her down.”
Sam didn't turn from the window. “Go with her.”
“No can do. My orders are to stay with you. The storm's moved inland, so there's no problem.”
“Orders be damned. Go with Annie. I'll be fine here.”
“Damn it, Sam, you know I can't.”
“Stow it, Izzy. She could be a target. I can take care of myself for a few minutes.”
“How? By hitting an intruder with a crutch?”
Sam made his way to the couch. He sank down, dropped his crutches, and pulled open the bottom drawer of the nearby chest. “Me and my friend Glock here will play host while you're gone.”
“It's against procedure.”
“Maybe I don't care.” Sam laid the gun across his lap and smiled. “You have ten seconds. Get out of here or I'll shoot you myself.”
Izzy shook his head. “Since you put it so graciously.”
REALIZING SHE HAD COMPANY, ANNIE STOPPED JOGGING IN place. “Where are you going?”
“With you.”
“Sam's the one who needs guarding.”
“Sam can take care of himself for a little while.” Izzy glanced over the beach and up to the orchard. “What's your route?”
As before, his gaze ranged over the path through the dunes, across the beach, and up to the meadow.
The man wouldn't miss a single blade of grass, Annie thought. “Through the meadow and down to the beach,” she said, taking the lead.
Izzy nodded. Without a word he moved to Annie's right.
To keep his firing arm clear, she realized.
In case someone might be lurking in the trees.
She suppressed a shiver, knowing better than to argue. Izzy was as bad as Sam when it came to stubbornness and duty. “What was that noise?”
“Lightning. Scared Mr. Harkowitz pretty bad. He ran by in his swimsuit faster than usual.”
“He's a nice man. He lost his wife last year, so we let him be outrageous. It doesn't hurt anyone.” Annie wound through the meadow. “How
were Sam's test results?”
“Just short of amazing.” He skirted a fallen log, his breath coming easy. “I've seen a few surprises in my days as a medic, but nothing close to this. His right leg appears stable, with excellent mobility. The X-rays also show solid improvement in that left knee. The partial joint replacement they did worked like a charm.”
“What about his shoulder?”
Izzy's eyes narrowed. “There are some signs of inflammation. The medical team in D.C. will decide if he needs treatment.”
“He's doing too much.” Frowning, Annie jumped the narrow creek at the meadow's edge. “He's pushing himself too hard.”
“The nature of the beast, I'm afraid. If you can figure a way to hold him back, be sure to let me know.”
“Oh, there's a way. I can throw in the towel unless he agrees to drop back to a semi-reasonable pace.”
“You'd quit on him?”
“I won't stand by and watch him damage a joint.” Annie's voice was flat. “I've seen it before with dancers and majorleague quarterbacks. The body can only be pushed so far, and like it or not, the body always has the last word.”
“I guess that's why you're so good.”
Annie's head tilted. “I don't follow you.”
“You know just how far to push, right up to the edge but no further.”
“I'm not a mind reader.” Annie panted, running as she spoke. “There are all kinds of signs if you know what to look for. Pain is a pretty good gauge, too. If he were a different man, I'd say Sam had reached his limit, then passed it.” She stopped on the path over the dunes, staring down at the waves churning toward the beach.
She took a deep breath. The beauty of the ocean rocked her and left her awed, as it always did, distancing her problems and offering clarity. One more reason I can never leave Summerwind, she thought. No place else will ever fit me this well. “He's in pain, Izzy. All the time, I imagine. But he doesn't complain, not ever.”
“It's his way.”
“It's a stupid way.” Annie dragged in another breath of air. “He could damage his tendons or ruin that knee stabilization. There's no reason for heroics. It's just Sam and the exercise mat. No one's watching him now.”
“He's watching,” Izzy said quietly. “For a man like Sam, that's all that matters.”
“Big stubborn idiot.”
“You want him to leave?”
“Absolutely.” Annie bent forward, working out a knot in her calf. “Unfortunately, another part of me would never forgive myself for tossing him out now,” she said tightly.
“So what happens next?”
“Heck if I know.” Annie rubbed her shoulder absently. “I need time to think. As a therapist, I can't support unreasonable behavior.”
“Perfectly logical.”
Annie glared at the flat blue line of the horizon. “If Sam wants to kill himself, he can do it without me.”
“True.”
“Stop agreeing with me.”
“Whatever you say,” Izzy said equably. “Just answer one question.”
“Maybe.”
“I don't suppose your irritation has anything to do with why Sam was so late answering my knock.”
Heat bloomed over Annie's cheeks. “Of course not.”
Izzy shrugged. “Just asking.”
“We were talking.” She dragged her toe in a wavy line over the sand. “At least we started out talking. Then things went south.”
“Things often do.”
“Before I knew it we …” Annie kicked away the line of sand she'd traced with her shoe. “Everything got crazy. Absolutely unexpected.”
“The talking, you mean?”
“No, not the talking.” She drew a long breath. “He's an amazing man, and his willpower is remarkable.” So is his body, she thought. “Maybe I'm losing my focus. The medical books warn you about patients who develop an emotional attachment to their caregivers.”
Izzy frowned. “Transference, you mean.”
“Something like that. It can go the other direction, too.”
“Is that what's happening here?” Izzy asked quietly.
“I don't know.” The words were angry, jangled. “I don't think so. I don't want to think so. We have a past, Izzy, even if Sam doesn't remember it.” My body can't forget either, she thought.
“That could be a problem.” Izzy scanned the beach, then glanced casually along the tree line. “You're both under a lot of pressure. Why don't you take a day off and relax with one of those spa treatments Summerwind is so famous for?”
Annie shook her head, watching clouds blanket the cliffs to the west. “Time off won't help. I don't think anything will help. He can't remember and I can't forget.” She hugged her chest, shivering slightly. The wind was sharper now, gusting in off the sea. “We'd better get moving.”
“You're cold? Sorry, I should have noticed.”
“Not cold.” Annie looked up the slope. “Call me paranoid, but I just can't shake the feeling that someone's been up there watching us. And I don't mean Mr. Harkowitz.”
Chapter Seventeen
SAM WAS WAITING WHEN IZZY PUSHED OPEN THE DOOR FROM THE courtyard. “Where's Annie?”
“She said she'd shower and change at her office.”
Sam slid the Glock out from beneath a pillow and holstered it silently. “You escorted her down?”
“Every inch of the way. Especially now.”
Sam frowned. “Run that by me again.”
“She said someone was up in the woods watching us. At least that's how she felt.” Izzy glanced around the room. “I figured I'd check in here, then circle back for a closer look.”
“All quiet here. Go check. After that, stay with Annie.” Sam rubbed his shoulder slowly. “I still don't see why she didn't come back here first.”
“I think she's feeling a little hemmed in.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Relax, McKade. She needs a little space, considering the way you two have been on top of each either.” Izzy cleared his throat. “In a manner of speaking.”
“Did she tell you that?”
“Not exactly.”
“What did she tell you?”
“Taking these security precautions has hit her pretty hard. She's not used to this kind of life.”
“Most people aren't.”
“Then give her a little space. And you can stop pushing yourself, too. Annie's afraid you're going to do some serious damage.”
“I don't have time for pampering.” Sam stared down at the beach. “I need to get strong again.”
“Remember anything more?” Izzy asked casually.
Screaming. The sick sense of falling. “Nothing helpful,” Sam said. “Tell Annie not to worry, I know my limits.”
“Tell her yourself.” Izzy pocketed a small pair of high-tech binoculars and a digital camera. At the door, he turned. “Better yet, show her.”
“WHERE IS HE?” TAYLOR O'TOOLE WAS DRESSED IN SKINTIGHT black pants and a white shantung blouse. Her windblown hair fell around her face as she charged into her sister's office.
“Hello to you, too, Taylor.”
“Stop stalling. Where is he?”
“Where is who?”
“Mr. Atlas with all the gorgeous muscles. The Denzel Washington look-alike.” Taylor frowned. “The man you're having mind-numbing sex with.”
Annie turned, hairbrush in hand. “Mind-numbing sex? Now there's a charming phrase.”
“Don't argue word use with me.” Taylor lifted the spandex unitard from a nearby chair and shook her head. “How do you wear these things without looking like a blimp?”
“Must be my years of clean living.” Annie snagged the workout suit and tossed it back onto the chair. “What's got you in such a lather?”
“You, of course.” Taylor straightened a vase of flowers, aligned a framed photo of Annie's staff, then sank onto the elegant rattan sofa. “I want the truth.”
“I don't know what you're talking
about.”
“Don't push it, Annie. You don't return my calls and you're never here when I drop by for a talk. What gives?”
“Nothing gives. I've just been busy.”
Taylor's eyes narrowed. “What's going on between you and that Denzel Washington fellow?”
Annie put down her hairbrush. “Nothing. He's a consultant doing some work here.”
“That's not what I hear. It's personal. Wilma, over at the bank, told her brother, who told his wife, who happens to be married to my plumber.”
“Did they happen to say how personal? Maybe they gave you some dirty details,” Annie said dryly.
“No details. Your Denzel's a mystery. They say he's big and gorgeous and follows you everywhere.” Taylor picked up a tube of mango-chamomile lotion and rubbed some on her hands. “Nice stuff.”
“Thank you. My Denzel, as you call him, is merely doing some security work for me and checking out my wiring.”
Taylor's lips curved. “I'll bet he's checking out your wires. Listen, Annie—”
“No, you listen. I'm having the guesthouse and main house security upgraded and I want it done fast. I also need changes in the security system at Summerwind. There's no mystery about any of it.” Annie rattled off the prearranged story set up by the Navy in case of local questions. “Check the San Francisco directory. He's right there under Arcane Electronics.”
Taylor's eyes narrowed. “Arcane?”
“He likes to keep a low profile. Most of his clients are Fortune 500 companies, and their privacy is crucial.”
Taylor's lips pursed. “So he's really just working on your security?”
“Afraid so.”
Taylor sighed. “I was hoping you were caught up in a hot, reckless affair. Speaking of affairs, have you had any news about your wounded hero?”
Annie turned away, walking into the private bathroom next to her office. “He's under medical care. They wouldn't tell me where. Military rules and all that.”
“Are you going to see him?”
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