She’d have to call her family and do a million other things that she couldn’t even think about right now. She just had to get out of here.
She was so overwhelmed. To onlookers, she could only imagine they thought she was catatonic. She took a deep breath, trying to focus.
“Hey, are you doing okay?” the detective asked as he approached the cell. “I’m sorry this took so long, but we had to make sure, the way you two were both accusing each other.”
He opened the cell, gestured for her to follow. Vanessa hesitated. Where would she go when she left?
She straightened her back and exited the cell. The detective was a nice, older man with kind eyes that were weathered by having seen too much over what she assumed was a long career. He put a light hand on her shoulder, and she nearly jumped out of her skin, turning on him and moving to grab his hand in a defensive reflex.
Her adopted dad had taught her how to defend herself so that she could feel safe wherever she went. She hadn’t practiced her self-defense in years, not formally, but her instincts still kicked in when she needed them. When she felt threatened.
Her difficult childhood—being moved from house to house, one state facility to another—had trained her to be hyperaware. It was how she survived, but it was also a habit that never quite wore off. Being touched by a stranger, even a well-meaning one, was unwelcome.
“I’m sorry,” she said, pulling her hand back. “I’m really on edge.”
“I can understand that. You’ve been through a shock today,” the detective said patiently. “Just to be clear on the details, you said you had a few small incidents recently? Some harassment? Did you report it?”
She’d already written all of this in her statement, but took a breath and responded.
“No. There were a few weird phone calls, that kind of thing. But nothing like this. I thought the calls were a crank.”
“Okay. Would you mind if we took a look at your phone records? We need your permission for that.”
“That’s fine.”
She had nothing to hide.
“Thank you. That should wrap things up. Do you have a place to stay tonight?”
“I’ll work something out.”
The set of the detective’s mouth was grim.
“Considering the circumstances, we should probably put you in protective custody for at least a few nights, until we can track down who planted the explosives. And why.”
“I can’t do that. I’ve lost...everything. But I still have a job I’d like to keep. My administrators are expecting me to run sessions for new teachers and students before classes begin in two weeks. I have to get my lessons in order, send letters to parents...there’s so much to do. I can’t hide away.”
“I think they’d understand, given the situation.”
“No, thanks. I’m sure this was some kind of mistake. No one is after me. They’d have no reason. I don’t want to be in protective custody. I don’t want to be in any...custody.” She gripped her suddenly shaking hands together. “Anyway, how do you know that Luke Berringer didn’t do it? How can you be sure?”
“I can assure you, he’s been cleared as a suspect,” the detective said. He didn’t volunteer more than that.
“Why was he hanging outside my house if he had nothing to do with it?”
“He simply mistook you for someone else. We checked out his credentials and references. He was head of a major software company, and now he’s a professional bodyguard with a notable firm up in Philly,” the detective explained. “He has no criminal record and was there to talk to you about another matter. He recognized what he saw through the window. He acted fast. It might seem funny to say so, but I think it was your lucky day, Miss Grant. If he hadn’t mistaken you, you’d be dead right now.”
Lucky. Right.
“Do you know why he was looking for me? Or the person he thought was me?”
“You’d have to ask him.”
Vanessa frowned, remembering how tall Berringer was, how strong. His hands on her arms had been tight, hard. When they had jumped away from the porch, knocked over by the power of the blast, he’d cushioned her fall with his body. He was solid all over. At the time, she’d been in shock, and thankful. Huddled close to him on the sidewalk, for a moment, his big body enclosed around her, she’d felt safe.
She hadn’t felt safe seconds later, when he’d looked at her through cold, green eyes that were filled with loathing.
Who would loathe her?
“All right. If you’re sure.”
She stood, her skin suddenly crawling with the need to be out of the building. Free.
Simply being in the police station made her anxious. She’d been brought in a few times as a kid when she’d run away from her foster homes. The police were always nice to her, but it didn’t help because she knew they would deliver her back where she didn’t want to go.
It had gotten worse after she was separated from her sister and brother. She hadn’t seen Julie since they were split up as young children. No one wanted to foster or adopt all three of them at once. Eventually, they had all been lost in the system.
Vanessa had never been able to track down her siblings, but she hadn’t given up, ever. She’d even asked the police for help a few times, getting hold of various records to try to find her brother and sister.
Being here was triggering all of the old fears and paranoia she’d had as a child about moving from one home to another. At least until she’d found her new family when she was twelve. If not for them, who knew how she might have ended up? The Grants had adopted her, offered her guidance, stability and a real home. What had happened to Julie and Max? Her heart broke when she thought of them.
“Would you at least let us know where you go? Do you have any family or friends, or will you go to a hotel?”
“There’s no one here,” she said. She wasn’t about to drag her family into this mess.
Her parents had moved from Florida to the north, retiring in Vermont where they were close to other family members. If they knew all of this, they’d be so worried; she had to call them first thing to let them know she was okay, in case they saw a report on the news.
“You have my cell number if you need to contact me. Thank you for everything,” she told the detective with a polite smile as she eyed the exit.
2
LUKE SAT on the steps of the police station entrance, waiting for Nicky to emerge.
Maybe Garrett and the police were right, but Luke had to know for sure. If he was right, he had finally put the past to rest. If the police were right, he had a second chance to make sure that Nicky didn’t take the life of another unsuspecting person. He could make a difference this time.
Then he saw her. She must have left via the side door. Trying to avoid him?
Either way, the police had let her go, so her story had to have held up. He watched her from a distance; she had no idea he was there.
She was still as beautiful as ever. Even with her plain-Jane, no-frills, elementary-school teacher persona, she couldn’t hide her natural beauty. She might actually be more attractive than the glamorous high-roller he’d known six years before. Softer and more vulnerable, she didn’t look dangerous at all. But Luke knew better.
Her chestnut hair was still long and thick, no highlights this time, but the color was the same. Luke remembered what it was like to bury his face in it. What it felt like to wrap it around his fingers as he kissed her. He knew what every inch of Nicky felt like. Seeing her had brought it all back. Arousal coiled down deep in his belly until he reminded himself what was behind the beauty.
Lies were the least of it.
She paced, looking wary and defeated, as well she should be. Apparently, Luke wasn’t the only one after her. In fact, if she was a victim here, the police shouldn’t hav
e let her leave the station.
He made a judgment call and stood from the steps.
“Nicky... I mean, Vanessa,” he called out, wanting to sound less threatening than he had earlier as he closed the space between them.
She pulled her purse up close to her, as if putting it between them would stop him. He’d grant her, if she was faking, she should win an award.
“Y-yes?” she asked, peering at other people around them, making sure they weren’t alone.
He could almost believe that she was afraid of him.
“Listen, I wanted to apologize. I’m sorry I was unfriendly earlier. I don’t know if the police explained, but I thought you were someone else,” he said, modulating his tone, adding a bit of a smile. “I’m sorry about that. I behaved...badly.”
“Yes, well, thanks.” Her words were clipped, her eyes still wary.
“You’ve had a long day. A hard one. I only added to that, and I hope you’ll let me make it up to you. Maybe I could buy you dinner or something. Or at least give you a ride. I think your car was impounded as evidence.”
“Thank you, but I called a cab. It should be here any minute. They are releasing my car tomorrow, after they’re done with it. Thanks for the apology, and for...saving my life. I don’t mean to be rude, but I really have to go.”
She frowned as she saw the taxi approaching, and then drive on by, pulling up to the curb ahead of them. She started walking in that direction. Luke took a step after her, his hand on her arm. Before he knew it, she’d turned, neatly grabbing him and twisting his arm behind him.
It was nothing to him, though he was momentarily surprised. He’d spent enough time practicing various fighting styles that he easily slipped her grasp and tightened his around her, her arms immobilized as he trapped her against him.
“So, you didn’t forget everything I taught you,” he said against her ear.
“What? I don’t know what—”
“Stop it, okay? It’s me. Do me the favor of dropping the act when no one else is listening.”
He twisted her around to face him, and he was surprised to see her hand shake as she lifted it to her face.
“You really are crazy, aren’t you?” She backed away, her eyes darted to where the taxi driver waited, hitting the horn once. “You stay away from me.”
She was going to push this all the way. Fine.
Luke pressed in close, and her eyes widened. He’d always loved her eyes.
“Let’s see if I can jog your memory a different way.”
The kiss wasn’t meant to be kind or even sexy, but once he felt her against him, intention went out the window.
He held her to him until she relaxed, opened and started kissing him back. Blood rushed in his veins as he went deeper. He was hard, too, and he let her know it. She moaned into him as he pressed against her.
But as delicious as she was, he had a purpose. He paused only long enough to trail kisses down her neck. With his hand, he pulled the shoulder of her blouse away, nipping the soft skin there.
As he kissed her, he looked down at the curve of her shoulder blade.
Nothing.
To be sure, he slid his hand inside, felt her shudder against him. His astonishment cooled his ardor; his arousal and his anger were squelched by confusion.
It was pause enough for her to come to her senses, too, and she pushed away. He let her go, still shocked.
It wasn’t there. No tattoo, no scar or indication that anything had been removed. There was a small mole in the spot where the tattoo once was—something that could not be faked.
Turning back, he looked at her in confusion, and she looked back at him the same way. Her cheeks were flushed, lips bruised, hair a mess, her shirt still pulled from her shoulder. He wanted to kiss her again but shut down the impulse. She put her hand to her mouth.
“Oh, no!” she said, seeing the taxi leave.
His eyes traveled to a small spot on her chest, and he saw a cluster of freckles decorating the creamy skin above her left breast. Birthmark.
Nicky had no moles, no imperfections. No birthmarks. She never would have allowed them.
Vanessa bit her nails. Not terribly, but enough so that she didn’t have Nicky’s neatly manicured hands. It looked like a habit she’d had for a while. Luke had missed that in the jail cell.
This wasn’t her. It really wasn’t Nicky.
Shame and guilt gutted him as he looked at her. Luke started to speak, but she smothered some strangled sound and fled.
He couldn’t blame her, but neither could he let her go.
“Vanessa, wait,” he called after her.
He had to make sure that she was okay after what he’d done. She hailed another cab, running out into traffic to do so, and Luke didn’t catch her before she slammed the door shut and the car raced away.
He didn’t plan to let her off the hook yet. While she might not be Nicky—a realization that he was still dealing with—there was something going on. She was connected to Nicky somehow. That the two women looked so much alike couldn’t be sheer coincidence.
Luke hailed the next cab and paid the guy extra to step on it. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who thought that Vanessa Grant was really Nicole Brooks, and whoever else was after her wanted her dead. He owed it to her not to let that happen.
* * *
VANESSA WALKED into the hotel room and breathed a sigh of relief. It was pretty nice, and it even had a view of the Gulf of Mexico. Luckily, it was midsummer, which was not tourist season in Florida, so the hotels were not full and the rates were low. In the cab, she’d made some phone calls and verified with her insurance that they would cover an apartment or room rental for her until her house was assessed and rebuilt. Until then, this would do.
She’d also called the detective who said her car would now be caught up in evidence for a while, so she had to rent one through the hotel. Hopefully, she could get her car back sooner than later.
She’d picked up some inexpensive clothes at a store close to the hotel and had treated herself to her favorite seafood takeout.
She was starving.
A shower and getting dressed would have to wait—she still had some time before she had to be at the school. Digging into the delectable fried shrimp, potatoes and a side salad, Vanessa nearly moaned at how good it all tasted. Maybe it was true—a near-death experience made everything sweeter and more intense.
Like that kiss with Luke Berringer?
That had been intense. Strange, unexpected, a bit scary and the best kiss she’d ever had. Too bad it was with a crazy stalker man.
Not that she’d had tons of kisses, but she did her share of dating, and that man kissed like his life depended on it. Vanessa had responded simply because it felt so good. It shouldn’t have, but it did.
Still, what decent, sane man kissed a woman he didn’t know in the middle of a parking lot?
It was a keen reminder that this man, no matter what his credentials were, was not okay. Something was very wrong there, whether he had anything to do with the bombing or not. She wondered if she shouldn’t call the detective back and let him know what happened.
Though it would be hard to explain why she’d let him kiss her until things started getting too heated. Was there such a thing as post-traumatic kissing?
No, she’d keep it to herself, unless he came around again. If that happened, she would have to report him and hopefully the police would listen this time.
Finishing off her dinner, she headed for the shower, emerging refreshed and more energized. Until she looked in the mirror. Several small scratches covered her skin on her face and neck, and she had a dark bruise on her left shoulder and a smaller one on her chin. Her eye was lightly purple at the edge. How was she going to explain that?
After she was dress
ed, she stood at the table by the window to pick up her bag. She paused as something moved in the corner of her vision.
Looking down through a crack in the curtain, she saw him—or at least, she saw something. Someone. Was someone down there, watching her?
Shivers ran over her skin, and she yanked the curtains shut, suddenly afraid to leave the room. What if it was Luke Berringer, following her? How could he have? What if it was the person who tried to blow her up?
Or what, her sanity challenged, if it was simply an employee or guest of the hotel out for a smoke?
Forcing herself to breathe more normally, she gathered up her things and left. The clerk had the rental keys and told her where her car was parked. No one was in the lot except for a valet who had no customers, so he was sweeping the front entrance. Nothing to fear.
She relaxed slightly, determined to leave the events of the day behind her temporarily. She would have to tell the school, of course, and let them know what was going on, her new address and so forth. But for a few hours, she could return to her normal life. She craved that more than anything.
As soon as she arrived at the school, Vanessa realized it was not going to happen. The second she entered the lot, a news reporter approached the car and a camera flashed in her eyes.
“What—what are you doing?”
“Ms. Grant, can you tell us why there was an attempt on your life? Do you think you should be here? Aren’t you endangering the children here at the school?”
Vanessa gaped in the face of the questions, shocked and wordless. Two of her teacher friends, Donna and Juanita, hurried her into the school, leaving the reporters behind.
“Oh, honey, we’ve been so worried!” Donna said, pulling her into a hug and no sooner did she let go than Juanita did the same.
“Where have you been? We’ve been calling and calling,” Juanita asked.
“I—I guess you know then...what happened.”
The two women looked at her as if she were crazy.
Unexpected Temptation Page 2
