by Sara Orwig
“What about a friend?”
She shook her head. “My friends either have too many kids to take on two more, or they don’t have any and wouldn’t know how to cope. There just isn’t anywhere else for the girls to go,” she replied, her voice filled with worry.
“Okay, but if you ever think of someone, let me know. Until Meskell is caught, your girls should stay in the house.”
“I'll get them to play in the kitchen now.” She left and called the girls. He knew he had frightened her, but she needed to realize fully what danger they were in.
While he waited, he crossed the hall and looked at a room with an old-fashioned brass bed, a pale blue spread, another rocker, more bookshelves, and hanging plants. A braided rug covered the plank floor.
The house was modest, simply furnished, but everything was neat and tidy, with a homey charm. He glanced at the brass bed and an image of Rebecca Bolen sprawled on it, her golden hair spread over the pillow behind her head, flashed in his mind. The fantasy sent his temperature soaring, and he ran his hand across his temple.
He paused beside the bed to pick up a picture. In it, Rebecca Bolen was smiling, wearing a white wedding dress. A brown-haired, blue-eyed man stood with his arm around her as he smiled at the camera. Jake could see a resemblance between the oldest child and her father in their oval faces, brown hair and straight noses. He set the picture back down on the bedside table and went to the windows to lock them.
“The girls will paint in the kitchen and there’s a small television on the counter they can watch,” Rebecca said from the doorway. She studied him, thinking he dominated the small room. “I thought they’d send someone in uniform.”
“The governor and the D.A. are worried about you. You did some glasswork once for the governor, so he requested that a detective be assigned to you.”
When they moved down the hall, she was aware of him beside her. She pointed to another open door. “Here’s the only bathroom.” She turned again to face him. “If you're here around the clock...” She frowned and hesitated. “I just thought we’d have guys in police cars taking turns outside, watching the place.”
If she wasn’t frightened by Meskell’s threat, he suspected, she would want him around about as much as he wanted to be there.
“I'm going to be your shadow. And there will be a uniformed man outside, at least for a while, and he'll stay here in the house when we're away from it.”
The frosty look came into her eyes again, but she kept quiet and turned to walk toward the room at the end of the hall. He glanced at the bathroom as he passed it. It was tiny, but clean and neat, like the bedrooms and kitchen.
“This is the living room, and you've seen the whole—”
Jake heard her sharp intake of breath and saw her stiffen. Instinct told him something was frightening the hell out of her. Setting down the glass of tea, he brushed past her and stopped.
Chapter 2
Rebecca stared at the object on the floor in the center of the room. A dead blackbird with a switchblade knife through it was in the center of the room, in the middle of the braided rug. A folded piece of paper lay beside it. Feeling as if she had suddenly been drenched in ice water, she stared at it as Jake Delancy passed her. “I'll be right back,” he said, going to his car and returning with a kit in his hand.
Realizing she was staring, she shifted her attention to the windows. “The window’s open,” she said. “He came in through the window.” She shivered, her fear mushrooming. “The girls could have come in here and found that.”
Taking a picture of the bird and knife, Jake opened the note, holding it with his handkerchief to avoid leaving prints. She stepped close to look at the note. Large printed letters gave a message:
You will be next
“He just wants to scare you,” Jake said flatly. She stood beside him, looking at the tan, blunt fingers holding the paper. His calm voice was reassuring.
“It’s difficult to ignore the fact that he’s been in our house.”
“He won’t be back.”
She experienced a flicker of surprise at the tone of certainty in his voice. “You don’t know that.”
“You have protection now,” he said, looking down at her. She met Jake Delancy’s hazel gaze and realized he would relish Lenny Meskell attempting to get into the house again.
From a kit, Jake removed transparent plastic covers and placed the note between them. He picked up his cellular phone and punched a single key to dial a preprogrammed number.
When he turned his back to her, Rebecca’s gaze ran across his broad shoulders, and she felt better because he looked strong and tough and competent.
“Yeah,” he said, while he carefully picked up the bird with his handkerchief and placed it along with the note into the kit he had brought from the car. “Yeah. Okay.” He punched a button to end the connection, and then he glanced around. “Where can I put this until someone comes to pick it up?”
“He’s been in our house,” she repeated, still in shock.
“Meskell wanted to frighten you, but he’s tipped his hand now because we know he’s close. We've staked out the roads around here. He broke in before we had the surveillance teams in place or I would have heard from them. Either that or he’s still out there in the woods.”
“Great heavens!”
“The police are on their way, and the surveillance team is in place. We'll check out the area when the others get here.”
She ran her hand across her head. “You can put the box on top of the bookshelf. The girls won’t bother it or ask about it. I’d rather they didn’t see it. It would only upset them.”
“Sure” he said, stretching his long arm to slip the box up high. The navy shirtsleeves stretched over his bulging biceps. She studied him again, feeling reassured by his presence. She hated the thought of Meskell being in the house; she felt invaded and uneasy.
“Everything else seems untouched,” she stated.
Jake looked around a living area that held flower-patterned chintz-covered chairs, an oval braided rug, toys, lamps that looked like ten-year-old garage-sale bargains, brass candlesticks and a brass clock that rested on a mantel, bookshelves holding worn books. He hunkered down to look out the open window. The screen had been tossed on the ground. His gaze drifted to Rebecca’s car, almost out of sight at the side of the house.
“Why do you drive that Volkswagen? It would draw attention in a midnight fog.”
“When we had it painted a few years ago, I let the girls help me pick out the color. I didn’t think I’d ever have to hide from someone.”
She met his gaze squarely and he realized she was frightened. “Remember, I'm here to protect you.”
“It’s the girls I'm worried about. And I guess it scares me that I'm in jeopardy, because they need me.”
“He'll be caught soon.”
Jake closed the window while she moved to the adjoining window to turn on the air-conditioning. It started with a whumpf and puffed noisily, and he knew it would muffle sounds, adding another security hazard. She stood only a few feet away, and Jake thought again that she was a breathtakingly beautiful woman. He remembered that the dossier had said there were no men in her life. Why not? She was a knockout.
“Are you dating anyone I should know about?”
Her blue eyes were wide and clear. “No. I'm busy with my shop and the girls, and I don’t meet many single men. I really haven’t wanted to date, anyway,” she added quietly, and he realized she hadn’t recovered fully from the loss of her husband. Had she moved to the acreage to isolate herself until the pain subsided?
“Do you have an attic?”
She gave him a startled look. “You think he might still be in the house?”
“No, I don’t, but we've been all over the house except a basement or attic. The closets in the bedrooms were open, and no one was in them.”
“There’s an attic, but the attic’s not floored and there aren’t any stairs to it, just an opening in my
closet. You can get a kitchen chair and shove my clothes aside if you want to look. That’s what the electrician had to do when he was up there to see about the attic fan. We never go up there.”
“I'll check,” Jake said, disappearing into the hall. She waited, feeling edgy and vulnerable, hating the thought of Meskell in their house and wondering if he had prowled around.
Jake stood in the bedroom, looking at the small square opening with a piece of wood over it. Below it were her clothes, and he noticed a filmy red nightgown and for an instant imagined her in it.
Trying to get his mind back on his work, he pushed the clothes aside, stood on his toes and slid the board away from the opening. He jumped up, hooked his hands in the opening and hoisted himself up, feeling as if he were climbing into a furnace.
The space was empty, dust-filled, with a thin layer of insulation. He saw the large attic fan, the wire mesh over the opening above the front porch.
He dropped back down, standing on his toes to ease the board into place. As he returned to the front room, he brushed insulation and dust off his jeans. “Everything is fine.” He retrieved his glass of tea.
“Won’t you sit down?” Rebecca waved her hand and perched on the sofa as Jake sank into an overstuffed chair.
Rebecca was staring at the box. “I never thought he’d really carry out his threat.”
“He hasn’t carried it out. Now I'm here, and we'll have a man outside soon in addition to the men staked out watching the roads. We'll get Meskell,” Jake said solemnly.
“I hope so!” she exclaimed, catching her lower lip with her teeth. Looking at her rosy mouth, Jake forgot business momentarily. He propped one foot on a knee, pulling at a string from the frayed knee of his jeans.
“If you have men watching all the roads and a man circling around in the woods—why are you needed in here?”
“Murphy’s law,” he answered dryly. “Things can go wrong in a flash. We hope he'll never reach your house, but if he does, I'll be ready.” She seemed lost in thought over his answer, and he changed the topic.
“Do you have any relatives outside of Texas?” Jake asked. “Somewhere you could take your family and stay until this blows over?” This was not in the plan he had discussed with Vance, but it would get her out of his hair and would get him back into the action again.
“No. We don’t have other relatives and I'm not that close with my deceased husband’s family.”
He’d struck out on that one. He surveyed the room, his mind working on a plan for them to achieve maximum safety. “All right, we have to make your house secure.”
A scrap of paper lay on the coffee table, and he leaned forward to read it, wondering if it was something else left behind by Meskell. Jake read:
Saturday—seven o'clock, breakfast, seven forty-five to ten o'clock, chores, ten until eleven, grocery and shopping. Twelve, lunch. One, nap time for Sissy and music practice for Tara. Two, read to girls.
He stopped reading and looked at Rebecca, realizing this was a very orderly woman who was going to have her life turned upside down.
“Here’s your list for Saturday.” He stood and held out the paper.
“I try to keep organized,” she answered, crossing the room to take the note from him. His fingers brushed hers as he gave her the list.
“You're cold. Everything is all right now.”
“I know,” Rebecca answered, aware of the slight contact and the warmth of his hand. “When I heard about Meskell’s escape, I felt certain he would want to get as far away as possible.”
“Not until he accomplishes what he threatened. He doesn’t have anything to lose now,” Jake answered, his voice becoming deeper. She stood only inches away and he was becoming increasingly aware of her. “I'll secure the house as much as possible.”
“A burglar alarm seemed unnecessary and frivolous. I tend toward the practical side,” she said.
“Not too practical, or you wouldn’t have set aside a special time for reading in your scheduled day.”
Rebecca was aware they were standing too close—his hazel eyes were devastating. She should step away, yet she stood rooted to the spot. This disturbing, appealing male was going to be staying with them. The idea made her fluttery.
“You would be safer if you’d curtail your activities,” Jake said.
“Are you married?” The moment the words were out of her mouth, she wished she could take them back. “I shouldn’t ask, but I suspect you know a great deal about me, and we don’t know anything about you.”
“I'm definitely not married,” he replied curtly. “Relax. We'll know each other pretty well before long.”
She was held by his unwavering gaze, aware that silence was stretching between them, and it took an effort to turn away.
Jake watched her stuff the note into her hip pocket before she returned to her seat. Her jeans fit snugly, and she sat down gracefully, folding her legs beneath her.
“This house is a good target. There are too many trees. Someone can hide and watch the house without being seen.”
“I wanted the girls in the country. I thought we could manage better and it would be good for them and cheaper for us. I didn’t know this would happen.” She looked around. “Look how small this place is. Where will we put you?”
“I can sleep on a chair right here.”
“No, you can’t. The girls share a room, and I have a room. I suppose we can sleep together.”
He looked startled, and she realized what she had said. “I meant the girls and me!”
As she felt her cheeks flush, she noticed a flash of amusement in his eyes. “I'm accustomed to this, and I'll stay awake during the night to check on things.”
“This,” Rebecca said, waving her hand, “all of this seems so complicated. How long were you after Meskell before you caught him?”
“It took a year to bring him in.”
“A year! You were the one who did that?”
“Not alone. There were a lot of us who worked on catching him.” He paused, thinking about her small daughters. “You'll have to keep a closer watch on the kids. Until he’s caught, keep them inside with us.”
“They'll do what they're told. These are really small quarters. If you're not accustomed to having children underfoot, I'm not sure you're going to like it.”
He gave her a look, and she realized that he disliked being there at all. “Why are you here if you don’t want to be?” she asked in dismay.
“It’s my job,” he answered gruffly. “If you see anything suspicious, let me know at once. Emphasize that with the kids. If you get any strange phone calls, let me know and keep them on the line as long as possible so we can try a trace.”
“Are you afraid?”
“No. You can’t imagine how much I’d like to get my hands on him,” Jake replied with an obvious note of determination in his voice.
“That must be why you're a cop,” she said, letting hurt surface momentarily, and his brow arched.
“You don’t like cops?”
She tried to control the hot surge of anger. “You should know, Detective Delancy. You should have all the facts about me, what I do, what I like, who I see, the man I was married to, how he died—”
“He was with the Austin Fire Department and died fighting a building blaze.”
“That’s right,” she said, feeling the hurt return. Having a strong man in the house made her think more often about Dan. “I appreciate the work of men like my husband and men like you, but I hate it and never want to be involved in it again.” Realizing he was studying her, she closed her mouth.
“A lot of cops' wives feel that way, too,” Jake stated in a cynical voice.
She considered him a moment, and then her practical side took over. “I'll have to go to the grocery again and stock up. I didn’t know you’d be here full-time.”
“Make a grocery list and I'll see that we get everything.”
She inhaled as if she were going to argue, but she clamped her
lips closed and remained silent. But the sparks in her eyes gave away her feelings, and he wondered how long it would be before they had a full-fledged clash.
“As soon as we talk to the girls, I want to check out the area. I'm going to put simple locks on the windows. I'll get bigger locks as soon as possible.”
“What about my business?”
“You'll have to close your shop for the time being.”
“Lord, my business is just getting started, and I have five orders right now. I can’t close the shop!”
He ran his fingers through his hair, and for a moment she was distracted as she watched his brown locks spring back in waves. His hair was thick, slightly unruly, giving him a tousled appearance that softened his rugged looks and added to his appeal. Was it her jangled nerves that made her more aware of him? One glance from him, and she knew that was not the reason. There was a sexy charisma about Detective Delancy that had nothing to do with the circumstances.
“Can you work at home?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts.
“Here?” she asked, looking at the tiny living room. “I do etched and stained-glass windows. I need space.”
“What do the girls do while you work?”
“Right now they have dance lessons and swim lessons in town at the YWCA on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. The Y has a summer program—the girls eat lunch there and have craft activities in the afternoon after the swimming and dance lessons. I've been taking them to town, and then, when I pick them up, they come back to the shop with me.”
“You need to move your work home and cancel their activities temporarily.” Jake was sitting back on the chair, looking relaxed, his ankle crossed on his knee, yet his demeanor still held an unmistakable air of authority.
“I can’t do that!” she exclaimed, aghast at the changes he wanted to make. “My customers couldn’t find me out here! That would ruin my business. It would be like putting a flower shop out here in the barn.”
“What I'm suggesting is necessary,” he added. Even though he spoke without raising his voice, she detected an inflexible tone that annoyed her.
