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In His Safekeeping

Page 2

by Shawna Delacorte


  Over the next two days he made sure he was on hand when she arrived at work, went to lunch and got off work. Then he kept her house under surveillance for a couple of hours in the evening. And each time Brad saw her he became more fascinated by her, with who she was, how she became involved with all of this, what she wanted out of life. And underlying that was the very distinct effect her voice had on his senses. It possessed a low throaty quality without being forced or artificial. A little ripple of excitement made its way through his body just as when he’d first heard her speak at the deli.

  Uncertainty and doubts swirled in his head. His original plan had been to keep her under surveillance until he could gather more information and collect enough facts to prove his theory of a conspiracy in which it seemed that Tara Ford figured prominently. He needed to confirm his suspicions before he could act. But the more Brad thought about it, he was not at all sure he was following the best procedure by continuing to watch her from a distance. He needed to initiate a face-to-face meeting with her, something that would appear accidental and not alert her to anything being wrong…and the sooner the better.

  THE NEXT DAY Brad spotted Tara having lunch at the deli with the same woman as before. He entered and ordered a sandwich. He carried his food toward a table against the back wall. As he passed Tara’s chair he purposely bumped it, jarring her arm and causing her to spill a glass of water.

  A startled Tara jumped up from her seat. “Oh, no…”

  He immediately grabbed her arm as if steadying her so she wouldn’t fall. “Are you all right? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Her felt her muscles tighten under his touch and the tension course through her body, something far more than a response to a simple accident.

  “I’m fine.”

  He tried to hold on to her arm, but she eased it out of his grasp as quickly as possible without jerking it away. “Are you sure you’re okay? That was very clumsy of me. I’m sorry…”

  His gaze locked on her for a moment, just long enough to drink in the luminescent quality of her hazel eyes. But he found something else there, too…something that disturbed him. She radiated a certain level of wariness, an underlying layer of fear marring her beautiful features. Again, something far more than what should have been caused by a simple bumping of a chair. At that precise moment he wanted to do everything in his power to protect her, rather than suspect her of being part of a conspiracy…to keep her from becoming victim number five in what he believed was a conspiracy of very clever murders of the witnesses in the John Vincent trial.

  She shot a quick look of displeasure in his direction as she picked up a napkin from the table and dabbed at the water spot on her cream-colored blouse. He grabbed another napkin and mopped up the water from the edge of the table where it dripped to the floor. He noticed the blond woman hadn’t made any move to help. Her blue eyes seemed to be taking in everything, almost as if she were studying the situation. He needed to find out who she was.

  Brad tried not to stare but couldn’t keep his gaze from gravitating to the wet spot on Tara’s blouse and the way it revealed the delicate lacy bra underneath. He sucked in a steadying breath and tried to pull together his rapidly disintegrating composure. It was the first time he had been this close to her—close enough to reach out and touch the creamy texture of her skin, to clearly see her eyes…and the uneasiness they held. He shook off the unwelcome pull on his senses and his inappropriate response. Purposely bumping her chair to create a face-to-face connection had produced far more than he had bargained for. He had to pull his composure together. He couldn’t afford the personal distraction. Lives were at stake.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine, except for this…” The heat of embarrassment spread across her cheeks when she looked down and saw the way the water spot had made her blouse nearly transparent. She pulled the fabric away from her body, then glanced up at this tall stranger.

  She had noticed him on several occasions over the past couple of days, but this was the first time she had gotten a close look at him. Her breath caught in her lungs—a combination of panic and surprise. The gash on his chin, the split lip and the faint remains of abrasions across his cheek gave him the appearance of a violent man, someone to be wary of, while in no way detracting from his handsome features. In direct contrast his crystal-blue eyes revealed warmth, yet held a hidden mystery. His dark hair was styled in a casual manner.

  “This was all my fault. I insist on paying to have your blouse cleaned.” The tantalizing fragrance of her perfume captured his attention, causing his nostrils to flare as the scent wafted past him. It was light, spicy and sexy without being overwhelming or obvious.

  “Thank you…but that won’t be necessary. It’s just a little water. It’ll be fine.”

  He reached for his wallet and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. “I’d feel better if you’d let me pay to have it dry-cleaned.” He suddenly felt like a total incompetent, falling all over himself and offering her money. Beyond purposely bumping her, all his carefully prepared maneuvers failed to materialize. The moment he looked into her eyes a shortness of breath hit him, nearly driving away his purpose in being there.

  He quickly pulled himself together, smiled and extended the money toward her. “Here, take this…please. It will make me feel better about being so clumsy.”

  “No, really, I couldn’t.” Something was wrong. He seemed to be trying too hard. Or was it just her imagination again? She wrinkled her forehead in concentration. There was something about him that left her uneasy. And at the same time there was an unidentifiable quality that she found incredibly exciting.

  The angle of his head, the definition of his features—a sudden jolt of panic grabbed at her. This was the same man she had seen parked in front of her house that night. She was positive…well, she was sort of sure. The fear pushed at her until she couldn’t control it any longer. She had to get away from this very disconcerting man and quickly. She gestured toward her friend. “We were just about to leave. So, if you’ll excuse me…”

  “The least I can do is introduce myself. I’m Brad Harrison.” He stuck out his hand, clearly expecting her to accept it. He cocked his head, raised an eyebrow and stared at her as if waiting for her to do or say something.

  She nervously cleared her throat. “My name is Tara.” She hesitated a moment, then accepted his handshake. The moment their hands clasped…skin against skin…a surge of sensual heat raced up her arm and through her body. She saw the look of surprise on his face that said she wasn’t alone in the experience. She quickly withdrew from his touch and took a step back. A shortness of breath told her something significant had happened, but she wasn’t sure exactly what.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Tara.” He glanced at the blond woman, nodding his head to include her while reinforcing his need to find out who she was. “Maybe we’ll bump into each other again sometime.” He forced an upbeat laugh. “But hopefully without such disastrous results.”

  Brad watched as Tara and her friend left the deli. The warmth of her touch lingered, giving impetus to his loosely constructed plan to protect her. It was odd the way she hurried off, as if she had suddenly been frightened by something. Had he blown it? A little ripple of disgust told him it had been a perfect example of amateur time in the way he had handled the entire incident. No one had ever thrown him off track the way she just had. There was something very special about her, but he wasn’t sure exactly what. She gave off vulnerability, yet she did not come across as helpless.

  He had orchestrated the physical contact but hadn’t been prepared for the surge of lust that jolted his reality. If this wasn’t a business matter—and a very serious one—he would definitely have asked her out with one objective in mind. But it was business. Serious business. Life-and-death business—literally.

  He tried to force his libido aside and concentrate on what had to be done, but thoughts of a much more personal nature continued to circulate in the back of his mind. A v
ery desirable woman and a very serious business…a dangerous combination for sure.

  BRAD HARRISON…Tara kept turning the name over in her mind as she sat at her desk. She knew he was the man she had caught glimpses of the past few days, but she wasn’t sure whether he was the man she had seen parked in front of her house that night. And there was something very strange about their meeting in the deli at lunchtime. The entire incident left her decidedly unsettled and on edge. She had noticed him as soon as he entered, just as she had the previous time when he was at the deli while she was having lunch. It was almost as if he had gone out of his way to pass by her chair. There were plenty of other routes to the tables against the back wall without passing by the table where she and Judy Lameroux were having lunch.

  Equally distressing was the wave of desire that had swept through her the moment they shook hands. Her immediate attraction to this mysterious stranger was confusing yet undeniable. But with the strange feelings and odd incidents that had been happening to her lately she knew she needed to be very cautious around strangers. Should she trust her fears or her desires? She shook her head. There was nothing that dictated that she had to make a decision between the two. It was a onetime accidental meeting—nothing more.

  She couldn’t afford the luxury of dwelling on the thought any longer. She had to get her life straightened out, not complicate it. Whether Brad Harrison was nothing more than a man who simply worked in the same neighborhood she did or a mysterious stranger with an ulterior motive who had been following her, she had to keep her wits about her and maintain a distance from him.

  “Are you okay?”

  “What?” A startled Tara jumped at the sound of Judy’s voice. “Oh…yes, I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure? You looked like you were a million miles away.”

  “It’s nothing, just a few things that I was trying to sort out in my mind. Nothing important.”

  A teasing grin came to Judy’s lips. “I don’t suppose it had anything to do with that Brad Harrison person who bumped into your chair at lunch. The sexual magnetism practically oozed from his pores and he was obviously interested in you.”

  “I…uh…hadn’t noticed.” A twinge of apprehension poked at Tara’s consciousness. Brad Harrison had been dominating her thoughts all afternoon, and regardless of her level of anxiety she had to admit Judy was right…the man oozed a lot of magnetic sex appeal.

  “It’s way past quitting time. Do you have any plans for tonight?”

  Tara forced a laugh, an upbeat attitude she didn’t really feel. “My only plans are to go home and do some laundry, otherwise I won’t have any clean clothes to wear tomorrow.”

  Judy emitted a soft chuckle. “That sure sounds like an exciting evening. I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”

  “Good night, Judy.” Tara cleaned off her desk, then left the building. She walked the half block to the company parking lot.

  “Miss Ford…Tara…wait a moment.” Brad stepped out from behind his car and approached her.

  Total panic gripped her the second she saw Brad and heard him call to her. She stopped in her tracks, a nearly uncontrollable urge to run tempered with a curiosity about what he wanted. She took a step back, trying to put some distance between them without showing the fear that pumped through her body. Was this the culmination of her feelings that someone had been watching her? Was this man really a deranged stalker who meant to do her harm? She tried to swallow the lump in her throat without much success.

  “How did you know my name?” Tara barely got the words out as her throat tightened and her mouth went dry.

  Brad extended a friendly smile. “We met at the deli, remember? I introduced myself and you told me your name.”

  “I never told you my last name.” She took another step back while desperately scanning the area for anyone who could help her. She fumbled with her keys, but was all thumbs as she tried to set off her car alarm and use the automatic car starter, ending up by dropping the remote on the ground. To her dismay, they seemed to be the only two people in the parking lot. She had never felt so alone, as if the entire world had deserted her. She mustered as much courage as she could find and stuck her hand inside her purse.

  “Don’t come any closer. I…I have a gun and I’m not afraid to use it.” Her fingers touched everything she could find, but the only item that even remotely resembled a weapon was a nail file. Her heart pounded so hard she was sure he could hear it. Her stomach churned to the point where she feared she would become physically ill.

  Brad held up his hands, showing her they were empty. “I’m not here to hurt you, Miss Ford.” He took another step toward her.

  Total blind panic gripped her insides and twisted them into knots. She wrapped the shoulder strap of her purse around her hand and swung it at him. Her improvised weapon made solid contact with the side of his head. He staggered backward a couple of steps. She turned to run, but not in time. His strong grip caught her arm, then his hand clamped over her mouth before she could scream.

  Chapter Two

  “Don’t be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you.” He shouldn’t have waited so long to make contact with her. He had wanted to wait until he had more information, could present a more reliable scenario to her, but he couldn’t put it off any longer. “Listen to me. I’m a deputy U.S. marshal. I believe you’re in danger and I’m here to help you. We need to talk.”

  She felt her eyes widen in shock as she stared at him in stunned disbelief. Her adrenaline surge began to subside and she stopped struggling. He finally removed his hand.

  “You’re what?” She had trouble making sense of what he’d said, but then so many things didn’t make sense of late.

  He released her arm, then slowly reached into his pocket and withdrew his identification. “I’m a deputy U.S. marshal. I believe your life is in danger. Can we go someplace where we can talk in private, rather than stand out in the open in the middle of this parking lot?”

  “I…uh…” She wasn’t sure what to think or say. A deputy U.S. marshal—it was the last thing she expected to hear. But could she believe him? Anyone could flash a badge and claim to be a deputy marshal. She took a step back, enough to remove herself from his immediate reach. “I think I should call my attorney.”

  He took a step toward her but the panic that immediately blanketed her features stopped him. “That’s your privilege, but there really isn’t any need to do that. You aren’t being accused of any wrongdoing. I’d prefer that you didn’t call your lawyer, at least not until you’ve heard me out. You don’t need to say anything, all you need to do is listen.”

  “Well…” She shoved down her anxiety, making a bold attempt to regain control of her galloping pulse rate and pounding heartbeat.

  He indicated his car and opened the passenger door for her. “Shall we go?”

  “Uh…no…I’d rather drive my own car, maybe meet you in a public place…a restaurant perhaps.”

  “Okay. Any particular one?”

  She gave him the name of a restaurant she frequented. They each took their respective cars and left the parking lot.

  THE ANGRY WORDS traveled over the phone line. “I thought you told me you’d have everything handled by now. Why the delay? I don’t like surprises. Is there some problem you haven’t told me about?”

  “No…no problems. I’ve already contacted Pat and said I wanted the job finished tonight. Winthrope has already been taken care of and I was assured that things would be wrapped up very quickly.”

  “You waited too long. I think there may be a deputy marshal involved now.”

  “You mean she’s been put under the protection of the Marshals Service?” The quaver in his voice conveyed his apprehension at the unexpected news.

  “No, I don’t think so. I think it’s just one man who has made contact with her. He seems to be working on his own.”

  “Then it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “You’d better be right.”

  BRAD ARRIV
ED at the restaurant first, made arrangements for a table, then waited just inside the door. A few minutes passed and still no Tara Ford. She had been right behind him when they had left the parking lot. A moment of alarm pushed at him. Had she changed her mind? Was she out there alone and vulnerable, not knowing that someone wanted her dead? Again he mentally kicked himself for not contacting her sooner, even though he still didn’t have anything more to go on than strong suspicions and too much coincidence without any solid proof.

  He wondered if she had decided to skip out on him. A hint of panic pushed at him as he reached for the door, but it opened before he touched it and she entered the restaurant. He quickly pulled her aside. “I have a table for us in a nice quiet corner.”

  Her anxiety level increased as soon as they were seated. She had started to turn around and go home rather than drive to the restaurant. But then her common sense told her that he knew where she lived, so she might as well meet him. “You claim to be a deputy U.S. marshal. I don’t recall seeing you before or during the Vincent trial when I seemed to be surrounded by deputy marshals.”

  “I have Special Operations Group training and I’m occasionally assigned to them for specific jobs. I was on a fugitive-apprehension mission out of state at the time deputies were assigned to protect the witnesses, so I never became involved with the John Vincent case.”

  She frowned in confusion as she studied him for a moment. “Then why are you involved with it now, rather than one of the deputies who protected us during the trial?”

  “Well…that’s kind of a convoluted story. I was wounded during my last mission with the Special Operations Group and was placed on recuperative leave then came back to work on light restricted duty until the doctor releases me for active duty again. Part of that light duty has been updating case files. One of those files is the John Vincent case.”

  She looked at him questioningly. “There’s something new with the case since the trial ended?”

 

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