Retribution

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Retribution Page 10

by Ruth Langan


  Adam picked it up and gave a whistle of approval. “I thought I’d be looking at some primitive attempt, but this is charming.”

  She dimpled. “Thank you. But it was a copy, so it was easy. It was later, when I started painting original works, that I learned how hard it was to find my own signature style.”

  Adam stood back to admire a series of her wild-life paintings that graced the walls. “It’s as distinguishable as a fingerprint. Now that I’ve seen enough of your paintings, I’d recognize your work anywhere.”

  “Really?” Her smile grew.

  “Yeah.” He turned to her with a smoldering look. “In case I haven’t told you, you’re pretty amazing. And so is your family. Fun and funny. Diverse. Talented. And all of you a pleasure to be around.”

  She could feel the heat rush to her cheeks at his unexpected compliment. “So are you. I had no idea just how far you’d traveled, or the things you’d seen. I only wish…” She paused, embarrassed by what she’d almost revealed.

  “Wish what?”

  When she shook her head he moved closer to touch a hand to her cheek. “You started this. Now give it up, Sidney.”

  “It seems so petty to admit. You’ll think me foolish, but I was more than a little disappointed that you were willing to reveal so much more to my family than you’ve ever told me.”

  He felt a twinge, and recognized it as guilt. “I don’t like talking about myself.”

  “I can see that. But I felt resentful that my family knew so much more about your work than I did. Jason had even seen a magazine spread of your photos, something I wasn’t even aware of.”

  “Hey. Would you want me to go around boasting about all the things I’d accomplished?”

  “Of course not. But it would be nice to know more about you than the fact that you work for WNN.”

  He framed her face with his hands and stared down into her eyes. The look he gave her had her blood heating. “Maybe it was deliberate on my part. I haven’t wanted to talk about my work or the things I’ve seen. But now, seeing you with your family, having a chance to talk with your grandparents, I’m thinking that it’s time I leveled with you about…”

  They both looked up when a shadow fell over them, and saw Charley pausing in the doorway.

  Seeing the way they stepped apart, she gave them both a gentle smile. “Sorry to intrude. I just came looking for you to say goodbye.”

  Sidney crossed to her mother and gave her a warm hug. “You could never intrude. Why are you leaving so soon on this lovely Sunday afternoon?”

  “I have an appointment that I have to keep.” Charley brushed a kiss over her daughter’s cheek, then turned with a smile to Adam. “It was lovely seeing you again.”

  He took her hand between both of his. “I love your home here at the Willows, Charley. And your family.”

  “Thank you.” She squeezed his hand, then turned away. “I’ll call you later in the week, Sidney.”

  With a tap of heels on the polished hardwood floor, she was g

  Hearing the sound of doors opening and closing, and voices drawing close, Adam lowered his voice. “I told your mother the truth. I do love your family. But I wouldn’t mind finding some place less crowded where we could talk. There are things I need to tell you.”

  With a laugh Sidney caught his hand. “I understand. Let’s say our goodbyes. I know just the place.”

  “This is the spot I had in mind.” Sidney paused beside a large flat boulder.

  She and Adam had returned to her cabin to release Picasso and Toulouse. Now the dog and cat ran ahead of them, pausing to sniff at animal tracks, happy to be free to run on this gloriously sunny day.

  “Isn’t this lovely?” They were standing beside a small pond located deep in the forest. The clearing was bathed in late-afternoon sunlight that spilled down through the branches of the trees in a benediction of golden rays.

  “Yeah.” Adam walked around, studying the spot from various angles. “Sit here.” He helped her climb the boulder, before stepping back to study her through the viewfinder. “Stretch out your legs and lean back, resting your weight on your hands. Then look away from me and concentrate on the pond.”

  She did as he asked and saw a ripple of water indicating that something had moved. Intrigued, she forgot about the click of the camera as she strained to see what it was. A frog? A muskrat, perhaps? When nothing surfaced, she felt a keen sense of disappointment. She’d wanted to see something exotic swimming across the pond. The moment seemed to call for something extraordinary. Something that she could paint, if only in her mind.

  Adam’s voice brought her back. “I have some things I need to tell you, Sidney.”

  She looked up, but he was watching her through the lens of the camera, his voice sounding oddly detached. “Lean forward, bend your knees and wrap your arms around them while looking this way. Not at the camera, but beyond, as though watching something moving in the woods.”

  His sudden change of direction was disconcerting. Did he want to talk to her, or was this just a ruse to get the photographs he’d wanted?

  With a series of yelps Picasso scared up a squirrel and was doing his imitation of a tree-climbing dog. Distracted, Sidney watched his antics, her expression changing quickly from dreamy to fascination to amusement, all of which were captured by Adam’s camera.

  “Perfect.” Caught by her beauty he snapped several more shots before he was able to pull himself back. He struggled to keep his voice casual. “When we first met, I told you that I’d been injured.”

  She glanced over. “And were reluctant to tell me anything about it, as I recall.”

  He nodded. “It was wrong of me. I should have told you as soon as we met.”

  She could see that, despite the casual tone, his eyes were hard and his mouth grim. She felt a sudden frisson of alarm. “You can tell me whatever you need to, Adam. I’m willing to listen.”

  “My injuries were the result of a car bomb

  She looked up, eyes wide. “Now you’re scaring me. Are you saying someone tried to kill you in your car?”

  “Not me. A foreign ambassador who had attended a session of the United Nations. Both he and his assistant were killed. I was a witness to the incident. I’m told I was the only witness, since everyone else turned and ran at the moment of the explosion. Despite the fact that it happened in daylight, in the middle of New York City with all its crowds, the assassin managed to elude authorities. Ever since then, I’ve been targeted for murder.”

  “Murder?” The very word had her shuddering. Her throat went dry and it took her several seconds before she could find her voice. “But why aren’t you in protective custody somewhere? Why are you here walking around if you’re a target?”

  “Protective custody didn’t work. Even while I was recovering in the hospital, the assassin was able to get close. After a consultation with the doctors and authorities, it was decided that a lighthouse in the middle of a wilderness would provide the perfect cover while I take the time to heal. Think about it. It’s isolated from the outside world. Small enough that any stranger would be noted and reported.” He lowered his camera and met her eyes. “There are rules, of course, while trying to evade an assassin. I was made well aware of them. I understood them. I agreed to the terms. Unfortunately, I’ve managed to break most of them.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  He lifted a hand to halt her questions before she could say more. “The first and most important rule is to see that no innocents are caught up in the danger. I vowed, the first time I saw you here, to keep my distance, knowing that anyone who got close to me could become a target for a madman bent on silencing me. And then I proceeded to break that vow over and over. Today, when I met with your grandfather, I was reminded of the peril you could be facing because of my selfishness.”

  Her head came up. Her eyes narrowed. “You discussed this with Poppie?”

  “His mind is sharp as a razor. He recognized me from news clippings he’d rea
d about the case, and was naturally concerned for the safety of his granddaughter.”

  “Naturally.” If Adam were paying closer attention, he might have noted the thread of anger beneath that single word, which she uttered through clenched teeth.

  “I agreed with him that I owed you the truth, so that you could make plans for your safety.”

  She brought her hands to her temples and rubbed. “This isn’t at all what I’d expected you to tell me.” She didn’t add that she’d been agonizing about the fact that he might have a wife or significant other waiting for him in some faraway place. But this…this was almost more than she could take in. “Once again, it seems, my family was told all the facts about you before I could hear them.”

  “Not your family, Sidney. Just your grandfather. And only because, being a retired judge, he still keeps abreast of the more newsworthy cases.”

  She knew that to be true. Still, it rankled that he’d confided in her grandfather before confiding in her.

  “You that this sounds like something out of a spy novel.”

  “It’s not fiction, Sidney. It’s real life. And until the assassin is captured and put away for good, you’re in as much danger as I am. And for that, I want you to know that I’m truly sorry. It was never my intention to bring trouble to your doorstep.”

  Despite her best intentions, tears shimmered in her eyes. “You make it sound so final. As though we’re both already dead.”

  “I never said that.” Because he needed to touch her, he stepped closer and helped her down from the rock.

  Her hands were cold, and he hated that he was the reason for it.

  “I give you my word, Sidney, that I’ll do everything in my power to keep you from being hurt. But it wasn’t fair to keep this from you. You deserve to know just how much danger you’re in because of me.”

  He could see the fear and pain warring in her eyes, and knew that she was fighting real terror. And why not? What he’d just described to her was as far from her lifestyle as possible.

  He released her hand and picked up the heavy duffel, slinging it over his shoulder. “You’ll want to get back. Maybe you’d like to pack.”

  “Pack?” She couldn’t seem to keep up with the direction of his thoughts.

  “I’m thinking that you’ll probably want to go somewhere safe, like the Willows. I’m sure it would be comforting to be around your family for a while, at least until you’ve had time to let all these disturbing facts sink in.”

  When he started away she stood back, watching the set of his shoulders, the firm stride. Like a soldier, she thought, about to head into battle.

  But she was no soldier. She’d never faced the kind of danger Adam was talking about. The worst thing she’d ever had to deal with was the death of a loved one. She simply had no weapons with which to fight a professional assassin who had coldly killed, and would again.

  He had rightly determined that she was afraid. In fact, she was absolutely terrified. And her first thought was to run as far and as fast as she could. But now, as she trailed slowly behind him, she was already arguing the wisdom of that reaction.

  How could she even consider leaving her cabin, her independence, and moving back home with her family? For how long? Who was to say if this assassin would ever be found? If not, would she be willing to remain safely locked away for weeks, months, years?

  It was a struggle to keep up with Adam’s brisk steps. As they approached her cabin, Picasso and Toulouse were already there, eager to be the first ones inside. She stared at them, and then at her cabin, with a jumble of emotions. Fear. Anger. Hunger for things to remain the way they were.

  She wanted her safe world back. Or at least the illusion of safety she’d harbored yesterday and the day before. But now that she knew about the dangers, how was she supposed to react?

  Adam actually thought she ought to pack up and run away. But how could she leave the life she’d so painstakingly built for herself and go back to living with her family? Especially when she had no idea just how long s would have to be gone. It wasn’t possible to pack away her dreams again, to put them into storage along with her life, while she waited for something that may or may not happen.

  Adam paused at the door. “I’ll help you pack.”

  Despite the fears that were tumbling around inside her mind, she gave a firm shake of her head. “No.”

  “Let me give you a hand, Sidney. It’s the least I can do.”

  She lifted her chin. “You don’t understand, Adam. I’m not leaving.”

  “Have you heard anything I said?”

  She stood her ground. “I have. And I appreciate your honesty. For a man who treasures his privacy, it must have been difficult for you to share this with me. Of course, I realize you only did it to placate my grandfather. Now it’s your turn to hear me. This is my home. I fought long and hard to make it mine, and I’m not about to give it up.”

  He swore under his breath and fought the urge to shake her. Instead, he curled his hands into fists at his sides and said through gritted teeth, “You don’t have to give it up forever. Just leave until the authorities capture the man they’re looking for. Then it’ll be safe for you to return.”

  “How long has this man eluded capture? Weeks? Months? What makes you think he’ll be found anytime soon? Would you have me put my life on hold indefinitely?”

  “You can certainly continue to live your life while staying at the Willows.”

  “I love my family home. It’s filled with happy memories. But this is my home now.”

  She turned the key in the lock and watched as her dog and cat raced inside ahead of her. On the threshold she turned to him, her eyes now free of tears, her face composed. She didn’t invite him inside. In fact, the way she stood, barring the way, told him all too clearly that he wasn’t welcome.

  “Thank you for telling me the truth, Adam. I appreciate your honesty and your concern. Now it’s time for you to go.”

  “You don’t really expect me to just walk away and leave you here all alone.”

  “I was alone long before you came to Devil’s Cove, Adam, and I’ve managed to survive. I’ll survive long after you’ve gone back to your job at WNN. However much my grandfather may have bullied you into believing otherwise, you’re not responsible for me.”

  “Packing up and going back to the Willows wasn’t your grandfather’s suggestion. It’s mine. This isn’t your fight. You have no defense against a hired killer. I’ll sleep better knowing you’re out of the line of fire.”

  “How nice for you, Adam. I’m sorry if my being here is going to cause you to lose sleep. But my life and how I choose to live it is no business of yours. Not now. Not ever.”

  “Sidney…” He had just opened his mouth to protest when the door was closed, loudly and firmly, in his face.

  Chapter 10

  Sidney stood just inside the door, listening as Adam gunned the engine and took off with tires spewing gravel along the trail that led away from her cabin.

  “How dare you!” She stormed around the room, temper in full boil. “You come to my town, my woods, my little slice of paradise, and turn it upside down. And then you and Poppie cook up this scheme to keep me safe. Did you really think that by telling me I might be in danger that I would just pack up and leave? Do you think me such a coward that I need the comfort of my family to survive? I don’t need you, Adam Morgan. So you can just go on your merry way for all I care.”

  Picasso and Toulouse lay by the hearth, waiting for the fire they’d come to expect. They weren’t disappointed. Needing something to do, Sidney struggled under the weight of a huge log, positioning it on the grate before adding kindling, then holding a match to it until a fire was blazing.

  Intrigued by her frantic activity, they began grooming themselves as she resumed her pacing. “Do he and Poppie actually think they can just pat me on the head and placate me?” She spooned food into the pet bowls and slammed them down by the door. The dog and cat, thinking it was a game
, pounced on their food while she stormed to the kitchen, muttering, “There, there, little girl. Just go back home and live with your family, and don’t worry your pretty little head about all this trouble I mentioned. You’ll be safe, and the big bad wolf won’t get you.”

  She filled the kettle and banged it on the stove. “Trudy can feed you, and Poppie can protect you, and Bert can soothe you. Isn’t that enough? Oh, what’s that? You want someone to love you, to respect you, to treat you like someone with a brain, as well?” Her tone changed to a snarl. “You want too much, little girl. Isn’t it enough to be fed and protected and soothed? Nobody gets to have it all. But at least you’ll be safe. And isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? A nice, safe, dull life? Yes, that’s it. That’s what you deserve, while I’m out covering wars and doing my best to change the world.”

  With her words vibrating around the empty cabin she sat down on the hearth and buried her face in her hands, sobbing quietly. Alarmed, the dog and cat circled her, trying in vain to offer comfort. But she was lost in her own misery and refused to let them close until, desperate, Picasso began to whine. When she lifted her head the dog put a paw on her lap, while Toulouse began to lick Sidney’s hand.

  Upset, she gathered them close and fought back fresh tears as panic began to set in. “That’s what I am, you know. Dull. Dull and ordinary. Living my dull, ordinary life.” She sniffed. “And how can an ordinary woman stay here alone? I’d be a fool to risk my safety with a madman on the prowl. But what if he’s thousands of miles away by now? Do I leave all this and go back home, just because I’m afraid? Won’t I be just as afraid at the Willows, knowing Adam is living out here, facing the threat alone? And for how long will I hide myself away? A week? A month? A year? When will I get over my fear?”

  She closed her eyes against the pain. Her road to this place in her life had been such a long, hard, uphill battle. And now she was being aed to give it all up and start over, just to be certain she was safe.

  Still, she didn’t see any better solution to ease her fears. For the truth was she was afraid. Desperately afraid. But knowing that her options were limited to staying or fleeing didn’t make it any easier. She sniffed back tears, wishing she could call back her temper. Anger was infinitely better than this feeling of utter helplessness.

 

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