Storm Warning

by Dinah McCall

  Her shoulders slumped. “I guess the most difficult part for me in all of this is that I can’t be in the middle of the hunt. I’m a reporter. I’m used to digging for the facts, not hiding from them.”

  “Extraordinary situations call for extraordinary measures. You’re a target, Ginny. If you want to live, you stay out of sight.”

  “I hate this.”

  “Yeah, so do I. But there’s a part of me that recognizes a distasteful truth. If none of this had happened, I would never have known you, and I can’t imagine not having you in my life. I’ve learned one thing about this job over the years, and that is if you want to survive, you have to stay objective. I can’t be objective about you. I’m too close to the fire, so to speak.” He smiled and then pulled her into his arms, soothing the tension in her body by rubbing her back. “We’ll find out who’s making the calls, and when we do, we’ll have our man. Until then, you’re here.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay. Now, how about some lunch? Dan will probably show up about the time we’re done. He can eat leftovers while we tell him about the yearbook. Maybe it’ll put him in a good mood.”

  “Are you hungry, too?” Ginny asked.

  “Yes, but not for food…for you.” He bit the edge of her lower lip and then gently traced the bite with the tip of his tongue.

  “Sully, I—”

  He shook his head and then held her close to his heart, fighting a fear that he could not keep her safe.

  “How about ham sandwiches?” he asked.

  Ginny sighed.

  “I’ll put radishes in them, if you like.”

  She buried her nose against his chest.

  “You’re never going to let me hear the end of that, are you?”

  Sully grinned. “Just because you’re a woman, it doesn’t automatically follow that you can cook. Now, do you want that sandwich or not?”

  “Yes, but I can make them for us.”

  Sully hesitated and then shrugged. She couldn’t ruin a ham sandwich. “Sure, why not? I’ll take mustard on mine, okay?”

  “Want some cheese?”

  “Yeah, sure. Add some cheese. Bread, ham, mustard, cheese.”

  “Calm down,” Ginny muttered. “I will not sabotage your sandwich.”

  “Thank you,” Sully said.

  He was being silly on purpose, and she knew it. “You’re welcome,” she said and then grinned. “Now go away and let me do something domestic.”

  “I’ll just be in the living room, watching TV.”

  “Whatever,” Ginny said, as she began pulling the makings of their lunch from the fridge.

  Sully eyed her nervously one last time and then left, reminding himself that he loved her, therefore he would eat anything her two little hands made. Even if it killed him.

  It wasn’t until Ginny had all the makings laid out on the table and was ready to assemble the sandwiches that she realized they were going to appear quite ordinary. And if so, how could she impress Sully with her kitchen expertise?

  Totally ignoring the fact that she had no expertise to display, she began rummaging through the drawers and shelves, looking for something to give the meal a flair. She reminded herself that Sully had asked for a specific combination, therefore he should have it. However, nothing was said about the way in which it should be presented, and when she stumbled onto the box of cookie cutters, her creative genius began to tick.

  Sully was absently flipping channels while listening for Dan Howard’s arrival when Ginny called to him from the kitchen.

  “Sully?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Lunch is ready.”

  Tossing the remote aside, he strolled into the kitchen.

  “I’m starved,” he said. “Hope you made a—” His gaze fell on the plate of sandwiches, and although he tried to hide his shock, he could tell by the look on her face that he hadn’t done a very good job. “They’re rabbits.”

  Ginny struggled with the urge to hit him as she poured iced tea into their glasses.

  “No. They’re ham and cheese sandwiches in the shape of rabbits.”

  “Yeah, right. That’s what I meant.”

  “So, aren’t you going to sit down?” Ginny asked.

  “After you,” he said, and seated her first, which earned him one small point in his favor. But when he dropped into his chair and then picked up his fork to poke at the rabbit on top of the pile, Ginny stifled a snort.

  “They’re dead. Trust me.”

  Sully glared. “Don’t get all defensive with me, Virginia. I haven’t said a damned word against your food.”

  “You are so conventional,” she muttered, and put two rabbits on her plate, then added a handful of carrot sticks and a couple of stuffed green olives for garnish.

  Sully felt safe in going for the vegetables. At least they were in recognizable form.

  “I didn’t know you liked olives,” he said, as he popped a couple into his mouth.

  “I don’t,” Ginny said, and then bit off one of the rabbit’s ears.

  Sully stared at the food on her plate, knowing when he asked that it was going to be the wrong thing to do, but the man in him needed to know anyway, if for no other reason than future reference.

  “So, if you don’t like the olives, why did you put some on your plate?”

  Ginny rolled her eyes, as if it was the stupidest question she’d ever heard.

  “Because they look pretty, that’s why. Garnishes are an important part of food presentation.”

  “Oh. Yeah. Right.”

  “Good grief,” Ginny mumbled and bit off another ear. “What a dumb question.”

  Sully stuffed a whole carrot stick in his mouth so he wouldn’t be expected to do anything but chew. But his stomach was growling, and the smell of deli ham and cheese was too enticing to ignore. He glanced toward the window, making sure that no one saw what he was about to do, and then scooted three of the rabbits onto his plate. He demolished the first in two bites, and to his surprise, it was good.

  “Really good, Ginny.”

  Resisting the urge to smirk, she nodded. “Thank you.”

  “I think I saw some dip on the top shelf of the fridge. Want some to go with the carrot sticks?”

  “Sure. That would be good.”

  Now that he was moving onto firmer ground again, Sully bounded up from his chair and almost swaggered to the fridge. He was getting this woman stuff down pretty good. Whatever it was, praise it. Whatever she did weird, ignore it. Whenever she cried, hug her. And then the biggie. If she’s mad, don’t ask why, just apologize anyway. It’ll save a lot of time later on.

  He reached for the container of ranch dip and started back to the table, admiring the tender curve at the nape of her neck when he heard the familiar sound of an approaching chopper.

  “That must be Dan,” Ginny said, and jumped up from the table. “I’ll get another plate.”

  He glanced nervously at the table. Oh hell. I’ll never hear the end of this. “He’s probably not hungry,” Sully said. “Are you finished? I’ll help you clean up.”

  Ginny took the dip and pushed him out of the kitchen.

  “No, I’m not finished. We’ve just begun. Now go get your friend and tell him to hurry. The bread’s drying out.”

  “Can’t have that,” Sully muttered, as he stomped toward the door. “Damn it all, how did I let this happen?”

  Dan came in the door without knocking.

  “I come bearing gifts,” he said, handing over the champagne and a large gold-foiled box of the best Godiva chocolates, and he’d added a flourish of his own, a dozen red, long-stemmed roses. “Thought she deserved a little petting, right, buddy?”

  “Thanks,” Sully said. “I owe you.”

  “Actually, you do. A couple of hundred bucks should cover most of it.”

  “You’ll get your money,” Sully said, and then hesitated.

  The last thing he wanted was for Ginny’s feelings to get hurt. He needed to warn Dan what he was
about to eat so he wouldn’t say the wrong thing. But he waited too long. Ginny was already here.

  “Hey, beautiful!” Dan said. “Did you miss me?”

  Ginny grinned. “You liked this place so much you just couldn’t stay away, right?”

  “For you,” Sully said quickly and thrust the flowers at her, hoping it would delay the inevitable. To his delight, Ginny’s smile lit up the room.

  “Oh, Sully…I can’t remember the last time anyone gave me flowers.”

  Since he was doing so well, he thought he’d go for the gold and handed her the chocolates, too.

  “Oh my gosh,” Ginny groaned. “Godiva! I am in heaven.”

  “I’ll hang on to the champagne, since your hands are full.” Then he gave Dan a cool look. “Besides, I’m not sharing this with him.”

  Ginny hesitated, then followed her instincts and quickly kissed Sully on the cheek.

  “Thank you so much,” she said softly. “I’d better put these in water.” Her smile was particularly vivid as she turned to Dan. “We just started lunch. Come join us.”

  “Great!” Dan said. “I’m starved.” He took her by the arm as they left the room.

  Defeated, Sully followed them. “What the hell. They’re only rabbits.”

  “I need to wash up before I eat,” Dan said.

  “Bathroom is down the hall,” Ginny offered.

  “No need. I’ll just wash right here at the sink.”

  He quickly soaped and rinsed and reached for the hand towel as he turned around.

  “What’s for lunch?” he asked, as he moved toward the table.

  “Just ham and cheese sandwiches,” Ginny said. “Have a seat.”

  Dan scooted a chair up to his place and then cast a curious eye around the table.

  “Where are the—”

  The sharp blow to his shin was not only startling, it came damn near to bringing tears to his eyes.

  “What in hell did—”

  Sully handed him the platter. “Take a couple,” he said, slowly enunciating every word.

  The look that passed between them was brief, but once Dan saw the sandwiches, it didn’t take him long to get the hint. Straightfaced, he unloaded three of the hammy hares onto his plate and then dutifully piled on a handful of carrot sticks and a half-dozen olives, although he would have preferred plain old chips. With a wink at Ginny, he took a big bite and then rolled his eyes in exaggerated ecstasy.

  “Ummmnnn. I don’t know when I last had rabbit.”

  Ginny threw an olive at his head and rolled her eyes in disgust.

  He grinned around a mouthful and then started to chew. A few moments later, he looked up.

  “These are actually really good.”

  “I know,” Ginny said.

  “Then can I ask you a question. And I’m not being facetious, okay? I really want to know.”

  Ginny sighed. “Ask away.”

  “Why rabbits?”

  Sully leaned forward, too, glad that Dan had asked what he’d been dying to know himself.

  “Because they’re cute,” she said.

  Both men looked at Ginny, then at each other. To their credit, neither one cracked a smile.

  “Well, sure,” Dan said. “That they are.” And to prove he was serious, he danced one through the air all the way to his mouth.

  14

  Lunch was long since over, and Sully had confessed about the yearbook. To his relief, Dan seemed to take it in stride and was now going through it, rapidly taking down names and making notes beside each one while Ginny answered the occasional question.

  “This is good. Really good,” Dan said, and then gave Sully a casual glance. “Glad you decided to share.”

  Sully sighed. He’d expected that and more.

  Ginny frowned at Dan and decided to change the subject.

  “Will it be difficult to find these teachers? I know Mr. Fontaine retired after the fire. I’ve heard Mother tell the story many times.”

  “They can be found,” Sully said. “It’s hard to hide from Uncle Sam.”

  “But what if you find him and he doesn’t remember? By now he should be in his eighties, maybe older. That was more than twenty years ago, and he seemed really old to me then.”

  “I don’t know,” Dan said. “We’ll just have to take it one step at a time.” Then he added, “But you’ve helped a lot. This gives us a new angle at which to proceed. We’d tried earlier to find a listing of the teachers, but everything was destroyed in that fire.”

  “You can thank Georgia for this, not us,” Sully said. “She’s the one who put all this together.” He looked away suddenly, his voice softening. “It’s just a damned shame it didn’t help save her life.”

  Ginny laid her head on Sully’s shoulder and slipped her hand in his.

  “If you’d asked her, Sully, she would have said her life was already saved.”

  The simple truth of Ginny’s words was a balm to his soul. He slipped his arm around Ginny and gave her a quick hug.

  Dan stood abruptly.

  “I need to check in. Be back in a few.”

  He strode out of the room, leaving Sullivan and Ginny alone.

  “He’s going to spend the night,” Sully said.

  Ginny shrugged. “There are two spare bedrooms.”

  Sully brushed his mouth across her lips. “You don’t care if he knows that we’re together?”

  “No.” Then her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Is fraternization between agent and witness frowned upon? You won’t get in trouble or anything like that, will you?”

  Sully shrugged. “No, and besides that, it’s not my case, it’s Dan’s. I’m here because I asked to be, not because I was assigned. Therefore, my business is my business. I was mostly thinking of you.”

  “I’m twenty-eight, almost twenty-nine. I am a thoroughly modern woman in every sense of the word. I do not need or want anybody’s permission to have sex, or for that matter…to fall in love.”

  Sully was speechless. It was the first time she’d said the L word, and he didn’t have time to respond. Dan was already back.

  “I almost forgot this,” Dan said, and tossed it in Sully’s lap.

  “Is this the tape?”

  Dan nodded.

  Ginny grabbed Sully’s arm. “I want to hear it.” When he hesitated, she added, “Please. You’re both here. I can’t possibly do anything to myself. Besides, Dan says the lab got absolutely nothing useful from it, remember?”

  “Yes, I remember,” Sully muttered, fingering the small plastic case. “But for the record, I’m not happy about this.”

  “Unhappiness noted,” Ginny said. “Did you bring the player?”

  Dan handed it to Sully, as well. Sully loaded the cassette, then hesitated, his finger above Play.

  “I want to hear this first,” he said.

  “Fine with me,” Ginny said. “I’ll just be sitting here, waiting for you two to finish running my life.”

  Ignoring her sarcasm, Sully moved into the hallway, unaware that the domed ceiling was a natural conductor of sound. He glanced at Ginny again, decided she was a safe enough distance away, and then pressed the button.

  The first thing he heard was the thunder, distant, but distinct. Then the chimes began, deep tone upon deep tone, then clearer and higher, as if moving up a scale. The series repeated itself three times before the tape went blank.

  “Doesn’t make much sense, does it?” Sully said. “Just some thunder and a funky doorbell that nobody answers.”

  “I know, that’s what’s so damned frustrating,” Dan said. “So let her hear it, okay? Maybe it’ll mean something. Maybe it won’t. I don’t see how it could hurt.”

  “Yes, all right, but I—” Sully glanced across the room and forgot when he’d been saying. There was something about the way Ginny was sitting that didn’t seem right.

  “Ginny?”

  Her eyes were closed, her chin was resting on her chest, and there was a kind of tension in her posture, as
if she was waiting.

  “Oh hell,” Sully muttered, thrusting the tape recorder at Dan and bolting across the room. He went down on his knees and looked into Ginny’s face. “Dan! Get over here. Now!”

  Sully grabbed her by both arms. When had this happened? Even more—what in hell had they just done?

  “Ginny!” He shook her just a little, and she slumped forward on his chest.

  Dan grabbed his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

  “You tell me!” Sully shouted, and yanked her to her feet. “Ginny! Ginny! Wake up! For the love of God, wake up!”

  Ginny’s head rolled on her neck like a limp rag doll. Sully shook her again, then put a hand on either side of her face and began to yell.

  “Ginny! Ginny! Wake up!”

  To his everlasting relief, her eyelids fluttered, but when they finally opened, his relief was short-lived. Her expression was empty.

  “Sweet Jesus,” he whispered. He’d never been so scared in his life. And then his survival instincts took over, and his fear slid into second gear. “Virginia! Look at me, damn it! Open your eyes! It’s over. Whatever happened to you is over! Do you hear me?”

  She blinked once, then twice, and Sully knew the moment reality surfaced because he saw it in her eyes.

  “Sully?”

  “Ah, God,” he muttered, and wrapped her tight within his arms. His hands were shaking, his heart was thundering in his chest. They’d fooled around with something they didn’t understand and almost lost her without knowing why. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I swear to God, honey, we didn’t know.”

  “Know what?” Ginny asked. “When are you going to let me hear the tape?”

  Dan whistled between his teeth and then slowly shook his head.

  “I think you just did.”

  Ginny was starting to get scared. “What happened? What did I do?”

  “The acoustics,” Sully said, suddenly eyeing the high domed ceiling. “Son of a bitch, I didn’t think about the acoustics. She must have heard everything we did.”

  “Yeah, but what did we hear?” Dan asked.

  “What did I do?” Ginny asked, her voice rising higher with every word. “Will somebody just answer me that one question before I scream?”

  “You went out like a light,” Sully said. “It meant nothing to us. Just a recording of some distant thunder and then someone ringing a doorbell over and over.”