“Feeling a little frisky, aren’t you?” he teased.
Kacy didn’t like jokes that bumped up against her phobias.
“I shouldn’t have done that.” She turned away and indiscriminately pushed at objects on the mantle and the television. Purposely she shoved everything in a quick disorder, just so she’d have a reason to reposition the knickknacks.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I know that had to be hard to do.”
Extremely, and it would never happen again. She couldn’t experiment with Peter. She had virtually no physical attraction to him, not as she knew she could have with the right man. She’d had enough dating experience to recall that much, even if it had been a couple of years.
“Well, I should get ready to go.” She painted on a smile with the hope she wouldn’t run off the one male friend she had. “Come back over in about an hour?”
“I’ll be here,” he said cheerfully as he headed out the door. “Maybe Andy’s team will win today.”
Kacy didn’t have much to do to get ready. She just needed Peter to leave and give her space to recover from her actions. Walking around the room, she repositioned the objects she’d moved during her fit of unraveling confidence.
Before Peter returned, she peered through the curtains hanging over the living room window. She stared at the new neighbor’s front yard and his car. His presence meant she had to adjust to unknown elements. She didn’t like him there. Paranoia made any acceptance of change in her environment a slow adjustment. Nevertheless, she couldn’t stop him from living next door to her.
When he came out of the house, she pulled the curtain panels closer together so he wouldn’t see her. A heated blush seared her cheeks as she studied him. The way he moved as he strolled down the sidewalk to his car captivated her. If he left, she’d feel safe, and yet, she didn’t want to see him go.
She held her breath when he lifted his head and turned her way. Just as she suspected from his profile, he was handsome. At least at the slight distance, he appeared attractive. Drawing the fabric aside a little, she got a better look. In that instant, he raised his arm and waved. Air whooshed into her lungs and stuck as his next steps aimed in her direction.
Kacy let go of the drapery, horrified he’d caught her spying and terrified he was advancing toward her house.
She remained fastened to the spot. Her sensibilities told her it would be all right. For two years, nothing bad had happened to her. So why suspect this man? Just because his dark attire resembled her attacker’s shadowy outline didn’t mean he had an evil streak.
Kacy took deep breaths and tried calming down. She forced her mind to ease into better thoughts. Her neighbor’s good looks and bachelor status could be a plus. She’d always liked well-built, darkly tanned men.
The knock on the door startled her from the analytical reverie. She dreaded facing a stranger. Putting her hand on the brass knob, she readied to greet him, or put up a fight if she must. Her mind resided in a strangely dual world she worked at every day to change.
The pounding became sharper and she jumped. Then the knob turned and she stared in disbelief. The door began to creak open. She never recalled it making a noise before. Watching the shiny brass rotate back, she took a mental count of the objects close by—what made a weapon and what didn’t? Could she fight or should she run? The door glided toward her. Fingers folded around the edge. She glanced down and gulped at the first glimpse of his shoe and leg.
Her palms were sweaty with nervousness, and the dizziness in her head forced her to concentrate on staying alert. Yet the challenge to remain calm crumbled when he peered around the door.
Chapter Two
“Kacy?” Peter called, just as his face came into view.
Her heart beat so fast, it felt lodged in her throat.
“Are you ready to go?” He grinned.
Peter had no idea of the terror she let build in her mind. He always said he understood, but how could he know what it felt like to be frightened of every little thing?
“You scared the crap out of me.” She smacked his hand and retrieved her purse from the small table in the foyer.
“I knocked to let you know I was here.”
“I know, except my imagination was playing with my sanity again. I saw the neighbor wave and I thought he was coming over here.” She peeked outside and saw the man and the car gone. “I thought he saw me looking out the window at him.”
“I think he waved to catch the mailman.”
“Oh, then you saw him?”
“Yeah, but the mailman didn’t.”
“Did you talk to him?” She and Peter walked across the lawn toward his driveway.
“No. He seemed to be in a rush and took off right away.” Peter opened the car door for her.
Kacy settled onto the seat. Her body shivered unexpectedly and she tapped her chest with a calming hand while Peter walked around to get in the car with her. The fear of the stranger coming to confront her had lingering effects. She hadn’t had a bout of hysteria in a long time.
“It’s a nice afternoon for the ballgame,” Peter commented, starting to back out of the driveway.
“Yes, very nice and not too hot.” She stared out the window as they drove by the neighbor’s house. “It couldn’t be a more perfect day for going to the park.”
Kacy needed to be away from the house for a while. Not leaving for days on end had its own effect. The outside stimuli helped combat her paranoia. Andy would be her distraction because he was one of the few parts of her life she could trust.
“How’s work?” She finally came out of her self-absorbed state of shock.
“Work’s fine. Not much change at the office. You know, people trying to climb the ladder while also shirking their responsibilities.”
“Oh? You have a lot of problems with slackers at the real estate office?” She looked over at him curiously. “With commissions involved, I can’t imagine anyone getting into that line of work unless they were really ambitious.”
“There’s always someone that wants little favors. Then, before you know it, the little favors are big favors and pretty soon you’re doing all the work while the girl is getting the commission.” He turned into the parking lot at the ball field.
“So it’s a she that does this?”
“The women are the worst. They sit about all day trying to find ways to look pretty and conjure up new schemes to get men to do the grunt work.”
Kacy laughed.
“Don’t get me wrong. I think women should be pampered all the time. I just don’t like the ones that think they deserve to be, without merit. There aren’t many like you, Kacy.”
“Me?” She watched him come around and open her door. “Why me? I’m about as self-centered and needy as any woman can get. If you were smart, you’d get far away before I suck the life from you like some emotional, draining vampire.”
“You say that, but I see how you struggle to do for yourself. The women I’m talking about don’t try. They’ve never even heard the word appreciation, while you, on the other hand, express it all the time.”
Kacy looked up at him. Under normal circumstances, she would take the hand he offered. She’d prepare for his touch and accept it. His comments suddenly made her feel selfish. Putting a hand on the car doorframe, she pulled herself out of the car, striving to show more independence.
“I’ll see you later,” she said, and headed for the concession stand.
* * *
Kacy scanned the crowd at least a dozen times a minute during the lingering hours of the ballgame. No one and yet everyone looked suspicious. When her gaze latched onto the new neighbor, panic swept through her limbs. He had no children, so his presence didn’t register as acceptable.
Struggling not to overreact as she sometimes did to insignificant events, she backed from the counter. From the shadows of the concession booth, she watched him. Other volunteers took over her duties to sell snacks to spectators while she hid within the d
imly lit building, gathering information.
Andy’s coach, Allen Johnson walked up to the dugout and the stranger started talking to him. Too far away to hear what they said, Kacy observed them with the eerie impression they talked about her.
The man stared in her direction as if he saw her enveloped in the darkness, and the force of her gaze obliterated her assumption that the recesses of the booth hid her.
“Kacy, are you all right?” a woman asked.
Kacy turned her head and stared blankly at the other volunteer.
“What?” She shivered against a freezing chill.
“You’re back here in a daze and you’ve got your fingers in the ice chest.”
Kacy looked down and gave a feeble laugh. “I’m tired, that’s all. I think I’ll take a break if you can handle things without me for a while.”
“Sure. Go out and watch the game,” the woman urged.
Kacy sensed what she thought: Quick, get this crazy lady away from me.
She opened the door and squinted against the brightness she hadn’t expected. Her hand went up to shield her eyes from the glaring sun. In that position, she also inspected the crowd. She went over the facts she kept at the forefront of her mind like an important shopping list.
The perpetrator would be a man, normal in appearance, an everyday Joe, so to speak. That was what the analysts, the psychologists and the profilers had told her about her abductor. He wouldn’t be anybody that stood out in a crowd. If she totally believed that was true, she’d not keep looking at the new guy with apprehension and distrust. His well-shaped frame, dressed in slacks and a jacket, stood out more than jeans at a prom.
The crowd cheered and Kacy glanced at the field of eight-year-olds. Andy had hit the ball. He ran as if a bee chased him. Distracted by her nephew’s good play, Kacy clung to the fence to shout encouragement like the others.
His arms and legs moved in complete disorder, making him slow. It didn’t seem possible he could run around all the bases. However, the outfielder was a little girl who didn’t seem to be any more coordinated than Andy.
“That’s the way, Andy!” Kacy jumped up and down, waving at him when he crossed home plate.
And then she caught the stare of the stranger. He hopped off the end of the wooden bleacher and jogged over to the fence about a dozen feet from her. He wrapped his fingers in the mesh barrier between him and the players with the appearance of being interested in the game.
It was a plot to get to her.
She twisted her head around and examined the people behind her. More than fifty, she guessed. If anyone tried to grab her, she had to believe someone from the crowd would come to her rescue.
Kacy remained stationary at the fence. She tightened her grip for a better hold and then chanced another look at her neighbor.
He stared boldly back. Her panic rose to a new level.
“Hi.” He smiled. “I’m Gulliver Knight, I just moved into the house next… Wait!”
Kacy ran. She passed the concession stand and one set of bleachers, then headed for the next set of bleachers. She didn’t know what came over her. The likelihood he would try to kidnap her was inconceivable, even by her standards. Still, anxiety streaked like a bolt of lightning through her veins. She had no choice except to flee. Peter seemed the most likely candidate to head to for safety.
Out of breath, she stopped beside Peter, who sat on the bleachers. Her gaze returned to the man. He hadn’t followed and it occurred to her that it was an absurd notion to think he would.
Kacy jumped at the hand on her shoulder. Wound tighter than a watch spring, her instinctive reflex of self-preservation went into overdrive. She swung an arm at her imaginary attacker and saw Peter duck. Instead of hitting him, her hand smacked a woman’s hat off her head. The woman flinched, and a chain reaction ensued like something out of an old black-and-white slapstick movie.
Kacy’s mouth dropped open in surprise as she watched the soda the woman held slosh onto her blouse. The woman leapt up and hit a man’s hot dog behind her, leaving mustard in her hair. The man, in an attempt to prevent the accident, stood, forgetting he had a soda wedged between his legs. It splashed on the woman with the mustard hair. She shrieked and her purse fell to the ground. The contents spilled out and looked like a drug store shopping spree. Comb, perfume, lipstick, aspirin bottle, nail file—everything she had lay scattered for the crowd to see.
“I’m so sorry.” Kacy’s glance darted around at everyone staring at her. “Here let me help.” She stooped down to assist the woman with the empty purse. But her hands shook so badly, she couldn’t hold on to anything.
“Sorry, everyone.” Peter grasped Kacy’s elbow and he pulled her up. “Come on.” He tugged her away from the scene.
As soon as she began walking, she removed her arm from his hold. She kept a steady pace and headed straight for the concession stand. In the booth, she’d have a chance to breathe and relax. She could hide, cry and spy on Gulliver Knight.
If ever there was a fictitious name, then that was it.
“Gulliver.” She let the name roll over her tongue. “Who would name their child that ridiculous name, Mother Goose?”
“What’s wrong, Kacy?” Peter stood at the doorway of the building.
She understood the exasperation in his expression. She didn’t blame him. If anyone should be fed-up by her jaunts into lunacy, then it was him. She’d made him a part of her nutty world.
“That man that moved into the house on the other side of mine. He’s here,” she panted, wondering if anyone had a brown bag in case she hyperventilated.
“Lots of our neighbors are here.”
“Because they have kids playing in the game.” She peered around the doorframe and looked for the man. “See, he’s gone now. He knows I recognized him.”
“Well why wouldn’t you?” His face wrinkled. “You did see him at his car a couple hours ago.”
“No, not then.” She paced back and forth, trying to stay out of the way of the volunteers getting drinks from the ice chest or snacks from the crates. “He’ll think I know he’s the man that… He’s the one, I’m sure of it and he’s stalking me.”
“Kacy, you can’t think he’s your attacker you, do you? That happened two years ago and you said you didn’t see his face. That man out there is just here to see the game.” Peter’s tone pacified her. “Maybe he’s bored or likes sports.”
“Okay, so I don’t know that it’s him.” She rubbed her temples, feeling the headache approaching.
“Or could it be possible it’s positively not him and you’re getting all worked up over nothing?” His brow rose. “It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve made a mistake.”
“You didn’t see the way he looked at me.”
“If looking at you is going to get a guy in trouble, then I think the whole male population might be in quite a pickle. You’re a knockout and they can’t help themselves.”
She touched her hair and her face. On many occasions, she had wished she were ugly. The problem with that was it wouldn’t stop people from looking. Human nature had instilled curiosity in everyone, whether pretty, ugly, fat, thin, old or young.
Someday she hoped to shake off the fear she experienced every time a man looked at her.
“Maybe you’re right.”
“Maybe?” His mouth cocked to one side.
“Okay, already. I’m overreacting…again.”
“The game is over.” He reached for her hand. “How about I take you home?”
She made it plainly clear he couldn’t touch by waving her hand at him to stop.
“My sister insisted I go to the pizza place with them if they won.” She perused the dispersing crowd.
“They didn’t just win. They slaughtered the other team by twenty runs.”
“They did do well, didn’t they? I’m so proud of Andy and that homerun he hit. That really should boost his spirits. At the last game, he struck out every time he went to bat.”
“A
re you sure you don’t want me to take you home?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll see you later then?” He lifted his hand toward her and then dropped it without touching.
“Bye, Peter.” She gave him another of her famous appreciative smiles.
Scanning the area for her alternate lifeline, Kacy looked for her sister Virginia. She kept her temperament cool and headed toward the parking lot. When she found Virginia and Andy carrying equipment to the car, her breathing slowed to normal.
“Hello again.” The man’s voice had become hauntingly familiar.
Kacy spun and stared at him, wide-eyed. Total destruction of her rational mind was imminent. Then the coach’s daughter, Livia, ran up to them.
“Uncle Gully, Uncle Gully, did you see us win!” The little girl grabbed his hand, jumping up and down. “Daddy said we kicked their ass!”
Kacy swallowed past the dryness in her throat.
“I believe you might want to rephrase that when you get home and tell your mother.” He patted Livia’s head. “Don’t you think so, Miss Carwell?”
“How do you know my name?” Kacy didn’t care if he’d had a niece playing in the game, he shouldn’t have known her name. Not yet. Not after one day of moving nothing but himself into the house next door to her.
“A piece of mail was put in my mailbox by mistake. It had your address and ‘Kacy Carwell’ on it. I assumed that was you.”
“Sure that’s Miss Carwell. She comes to all our games,” Livia chirped. “She gives us free drinks if we do extra good, too.”
“Then I’d say Miss Carwell is a real nice lady.” His smile came with a sensuous gleam in his eyes.
“Will you go to the pizza place with us, Uncle Gully?”
“Sure, if we can have anchovies.”
“Yuck. I don’t want little dead fishes on my pizza.” Livia wrinkled her nose. “Do you like anchovies, Miss Carwell?”
“No, I think they’re yucky too.” Kacy relaxed under Gulliver’s warm, penetrating stare.
He had a valid reason to be at the ballgame. Excessively handsome, he possessed many of the features she admired in men. His twinkling brown eyes had a real sort of happiness in their depths. The faint dimples in his cheeks gave him an adorable, non-threatening appearance. The scar slashing the black hairs of his eyebrow disturbed her, but it didn’t detract from his attractiveness.
A Desperate Longing Page 2
