Gwen climbed onto a stool at the kitchen island and cradled her glass between her palms. “Go on. Ask whatever you need to. I want to help you figure out what’s going on here, however I can. It’s been a while since I opened up about my life, but I’m going to do my best. I know it’s important that you get all the facts, and that I’m as honest as possible with my answers. We need to know who’s following me and why.”
He took the seat beside her and tapped his thumbs against the table’s edge. “How many people know where you live?” he began. “How many have been here? And how many of them have come inside with you after being away?”
“How many people have seen me disable my alarm?” she asked. “How many might have memorized the code as I typed it? None.”
“Good,” he said. “How many have been inside, seen your layout and the security measures in place?”
“Three,” she said easily, releasing her glass in favor of crossing her arms. “My mother, my father and Marina from my office.”
Lucas felt his brows raise. “In all the years since you moved in, only three people have come over to visit?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. What about neighbors and friends? Anyone you’ve told about your attack or your recent feelings of being followed? Anyone your stalker might go to for information on you? Or someone he might use as a way to hurt you?”
Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t flinch. “No. Everyone on my street keeps to themselves, and I’m not especially close to anyone. I don’t talk about what I’ve been through outside of therapy. There’s no reason to relive it more than I already do, and I don’t want the pity that inevitably comes when people learn that I’m a victim.”
“Were,” Lucas said, feeling the familiar knot of regret and empathy in his core.
“What?”
“You were a victim. Once. Six years ago. You aren’t a victim anymore,” he assured her. He wouldn’t allow her to be.
Gwen’s lips tugged into a small, sad smile. “You’re wrong.”
“I’m not,” he said, resolve rising in him. He hadn’t been able to stop her from becoming a victim before, but that was a lifetime ago, in a world where they were getting married and he was going to be an architect. Her attacker had shattered those dreams, and Lucas was left alone to pick up the pieces. He made a damn good special victim’s detective from the rubble, and he was going to make sure Gwen’s stalker regretted ever targeting her.
Chapter Five
Gwen woke before dawn, eager to get outside for a run. She swung her feet out from beneath her covers, and the events of the previous day rushed back to her with a snap.
There wouldn’t be a run in the park this morning. Not with someone following her, and Luke Winchester in her guest room. Lucas, she reminded herself once more. He went by Lucas now. A more grown-up name for the more grown-up man. One with all the heart and compassion she’d once loved, packed into a more-mature and slightly brooding, but equally attractive, package.
She rubbed her forehead to clear her thoughts, then shuffled toward her dresser in search of an outfit. Having Lucas in the next room, in her new life, was confusing and complicated enough without thinking about his handsome face or soulful eyes. Never mind the intense compassion he still had in spades. Her addled, sleepy mind thought that maybe being near him again was worth the tension of being followed for a little while.
A good sign she needed coffee. And a run.
Lucas had fallen in love with a whimsical young college student, and Gwen was officially an uptight, no-nonsense hermit. The attraction these days could only run one way. She was lucky he’d agreed to help at all after she’d shown up at his precinct, without invitation or notice.
Gwen dressed for a date with her treadmill, then headed to the kitchen for some much-needed caffeine.
“Morning,” Luke said, startling her as she exited her bedroom. His smile was warm and his hair mussed. He was dressed nearly identical to her, in black running pants and matching long-sleeved top. “I keep a gym bag in my truck,” he said, apparently noticing her staring. “Sometimes I work out at the precinct.”
“Yeah, you do,” she muttered, allowing herself a moment to appreciate his broad shoulders, flat stomach and long, lean legs. She easily imagined what his body must look like under those clothes, clinging in all the right places.
His lips kicked up on one side and he chuckled. “I thought we could have breakfast, then maybe go for a run.”
“Okay,” she said, unsure when he’d begun running, but liking the idea.
“I can drop you off at work afterward, then I’ll head back to West Liberty and take care of things there. I can be back to your office in time to drive you home.”
Gwen tensed, all the warm and fuzzy feelings going cold. “You can’t drive me to work. People will see you. What am I supposed to say?”
“That a friend dropped you off? Your car is in the shop?” he suggested. “Everyone’s ride needs maintenance eventually.”
She considered the simple response. Car maintenance. It sounded completely logical coming from him, but no one had ever driven her to work, and she wasn’t convinced she could so easily explain it away. “I want to think about it.”
“Sure. How about some oatmeal and coffee before we go?” he motioned her toward the kitchen, and she led the way.
The scent of fresh-brewed coffee drifted out to greet her. Two mugs waited beside a full pot and a bowl of mixed fruits.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Luke said. “I cut up some of your melon. The berries and grapes looked as if they needed to be eaten before they went bad. I thought the cantaloupe was a good addition.”
“Not at all.” Gwen smiled, recalling all the times he’d made her breakfast in another life. Usually burnt pancakes or hurried scrambled eggs before class. “Thank you.” She poured coffee into both mugs, then spooned up two bowls of fresh fruit.
Lucas lifted a teakettle from her stove as it began to sing and added the steaming water to bowls of dried oats. He topped the mixture with brown sugar and drizzled it with maple syrup, then ferried the finished products to the island.
“Wow.” Gwen took a seat. “This is fantastic,” she said, popping a strawberry chunk into her mouth. It had been years since she’d had breakfast with someone, or eaten more than whatever she could grab on her way out the door. “You’re really going to run with me?”
“If you don’t mind,” he said, sipping gingerly at his coffee. “I’ll try to keep up.”
She rolled her eyes and tried again not to think about his body or his incredible kindness. He’d made her breakfast and wanted to drive her to work. It was as if her past and present were colliding, and Gwen wasn’t prepared to handle the emotions that came with that.
* * *
AN HOUR LATER, Lucas stood, winded, in Gwen’s kitchen, having escorted her on a reconnaissance run through the neighborhood. She’d pointed out every home belonging to someone she knew, as well as those that had been recently purchased. Lucas made a note of those standing empty, either awaiting a renter or up for sale, but nothing had struck him as odd or problematic. Nothing had set off any textbook red flags or triggered his gut instinct, and that was the real problem. Because something was wrong. Gwen was being followed on her runs, to her office and almost assuredly to her home.
“When did you become a runner?” Gwen asked, swigging water from her bottle and wiping sweat from her brow.
Lucas shrugged, pulling himself back to the moment. “A few years ago.” He’d had trouble sleeping after Gwen’s attack. Hellacious nightmares. When she’d left, he struggled with internal rage and self-loathing. He’d needed a healthy outlet, one that didn’t involve booze or women. “You always said it helped you think and get centered. I gave it a try and have to agree.”
She nodded, then smiled. “I’m glad it helped.”
Th
e smile reached her eyes and did things to his heart rate. “You should probably catch that shower so you aren’t late for work. I’d hate to make you late on my first drop-off mission.”
Gwen glanced at the clock, then moved quickly away. “I won’t be long,” she called.
He laughed as she darted into the bathroom down the hall. “You always say that,” he called back. “It’s never true.”
He gripped the back of his neck, hard. Reminding himself for the hundredth time to remember his place. Gwen didn’t need a boyfriend or even a buddy. She needed protection. She was in danger, and he couldn’t afford to let his guard down the way he had before. Never again. Last time, she’d nearly been killed.
He refilled his water bottle with the pitcher in her fridge, then paused to examine a set of snapshots he hadn’t noticed before. A small collection of selfies was lined up like soldiers on a corkboard near the pantry. A shot of Gwen’s parents. One of Gwen at her high school graduation. The family dog, Jeeves. And a photo of Gwen in Lucas’s arms, taken at their engagement party.
His eyelids slid shut with the bittersweet memory of that moment, and pressure built in his chest. Their engagement had been the happiest moment of his life, and within forty-eight hours, his heart had been ripped from his chest. The smiling, youthful faces in that image had no idea how bad things were about to get, and he wished for the thousandth time that he could go back and warn them.
He’d proposed on Friday night, Homecoming Weekend, and they’d spent the next day or so in bed, celebrating. By Sunday, however, she couldn’t wait to show the ring off and announce the news to all of her friends. When she was late coming home, Lucas hadn’t worried. When she didn’t answer her phone, he assumed it was loud wherever she was and she hadn’t heard it ring. Or maybe she’d had an extra margarita and fallen asleep at a friend’s place. When he’d gone to bed alone that night, she was being beaten and raped. When he’d fallen asleep under the covers, safe and content, she’d been naked and alone, fighting for her life and counting the moments, in and out of consciousness until dawn.
Lucas had never once worried for her safety.
No thanks to him, she’d lived, but she’d come through it into another life. One that hadn’t included room for a man, and he couldn’t blame her. But he also couldn’t help finding hope in the single photo she’d kept of them. Maybe Gwen didn’t blame him as completely for what happened to her as he did.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she said, high heels snapping against hard wood as she hurried back down the hall in his direction. She’d dressed in a cream blouse and black skirt with a string of pearls her mother had given her on her twenty-first birthday, the night he realized he wanted to marry her.
“Glad to be here,” he said, feigning casualness and reminding himself not to reach for her as she approached. A habit he had to unlearn. “You look great.”
“Thanks.” She’d twisted her wild red curls into an updo again and had a pair of simple gold hoop earrings in her hand. “I’m sure it speaks volumes about my emotional state, but I’m glad you agree with me about someone following me. Knowing I’m right feels slightly better than thinking I’m losing my mind.” She offered a small smile as she plugged a hoop into one ear, then another. “Being alone all the time is one thing. I’m not willing to let go of my sanity just yet, too.”
“You’re far from crazy,” he said, meeting and holding her gaze. “You went through the unthinkable, and you created a new life for yourself afterward. A very carefully designed and executed life. To think the danger you’ve worked so hard to put behind you could be here and now?” He gave a short humorless laugh. “Let’s just say I can appreciate how surreal it is when two timelines collide.”
She blinked, then dipped her chin and turned away. “We should get going.”
Lucas cringed, having clearly said the wrong thing. Unsure how to make it better instead of worse, he kept his mouth shut and followed her into the day. He waited while she set the alarm and locked her multitude of locks, then he walked her to his truck.
He opened her door and waited while she climbed inside. He admired her strength and will. She’d gotten through the most horrible thing he could imagine a person going through, and she’d done it on her own. Her terms. Her choices. Her success. She might not be in his life anymore, but he was still incredibly proud of her. And willing to do whatever he could to help her find peace again.
“We will figure this out,” he promised, pausing before he closed her door. “And for whatever it’s worth, you aren’t alone, Gwen. Not anymore.”
Chapter Six
Gwen climbed down from Lucas’s truck with a promise not to leave her office building under any circumstances, and he vowed to be back for her at six sharp. It was a strange feeling, having another human in her immediate orbit again. Someone who made her breakfast, went running with her and drove her to work. It was something she hadn’t experienced in a long time, and she was surprised how deeply she’d missed it.
He watched her walk inside before pulling away from the curb.
Marina waited silently inside the glass doors kneading her hands and nearly buzzing with excitement. “Who was that?” she asked, eyes wide as she followed Gwen across the foyer. “Did you meet him at the park?”
Gwen smiled as evenly as possible, ignoring the swarm of butterflies taking flight in her chest. “That was Lucas.”
Debbie watched from her position at the elevators as they approached. She pressed the Up button and turned to Gwen with a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin on her face. “Morning,” she said sweetly. “I didn’t realize you were seeing anyone, Gwen. When did this begin? And does Collin know?”
Marina moved to Debbie’s side, and the two of them waited for Gwen’s answer.
“I’m not seeing him,” Gwen answered. “We’ve known one another a long time, and why would I tell Collin if I was seeing someone?”
The pair exchanged a look, then rolled their eyes in near unison.
“So, why the ride to work?” Marina asked. “Everything okay?”
The elevator doors parted, and Gwen rushed inside. “My car’s in the shop. I’m getting some basic maintenance and needed a ride.”
“Will he be taking you home tonight, too?” Debbie asked, their reflections staring back in the shiny elevator walls as they rose to their floor.
“Yep.”
“Will we get to meet him?” she asked.
The doors opened, and Gwen made her escape. “Maybe. I’ll see you guys soon. I’ve got to call the shop and make sure they know where I left the key,” she said, speed-walking toward her office as the other women stopped to chat with the receptionist.
She ducked into her small sanctuary and shut the door, then did her best to keep her head down until her stomach demanded it was lunchtime.
At twelve thirty, she opened her bag and groaned. She forgot to pack a lunch, and she’d promised Lucas she wouldn’t go out.
A small sound drew her attention to the window behind her. When the noise came again, she turned slowly in her chair to stare at the glass. Something small bounced off and she started. A pebble or maybe an acorn? Someone was throwing things at her window? Someone knew which window was hers?
Her muscles stiffened and her breath caught as she waited to see if it happened again.
Tink! Another pebble.
Tink! A pebble.
Thump!
A stone hit the window, and the glass rattled.
Gwen jumped in her chair. Her heart hammered as she pressed onto her feet and maneuvered in a wide arc through the room, coming up alongside of her window. She swallowed long and slow, then dared a peek outside.
“Gwen?” The receptionist’s voice burst through the speaker on her desk phone.
Gwen yelped. She pressed her back to the wall and a palm against her aching chest. She stumbled forward and pressed the res
ponse button on her phone. “Yes?” she croaked, forcing the word past a massive lump in her throat.
“You have a delivery.”
Ice slid through her veins and pooled in her stomach. “I didn’t order anything.”
She turned back to the window, fearful of who was below and what she might find if she looked. But she had to look. Had to know. If someone was really targeting her, trying to terrorize her, she had to help Lucas make the arrest. If she didn’t, this might never end. And if she found some other reasonable explanation for the pebbles hitting her window, then she could relax and figure out what to do about lunch.
She squared her shoulders and crossed the room, determined to see something other than a stalker. She took a deep breath and peered into the lot below.
No one was there.
She fell back against the wall, breathing heavily and shaking slightly. No one was there, but someone had been. Hadn’t they?
Was her stalker getting braver? Bolder? Angrier? Had he seen her with Lucas?
If her coworkers were this worked up about her ride to work, what did her stalker think? Did he also know Lucas had spent the night? Realizing how bad that would look from the outside, she felt her empty stomach roll. Apprehension gripped her shoulders and tightened the muscles in her neck and core.
“Miss Kind?” An unfamiliar male voice spoke behind her and she squelched a scream.
A man in jeans and a leather jacket crossed the room to her desk with a large bag in one hand. The receptionist held the door open for him.
He unearthed a massive plastic container filled with salad from the bag and placed it on her desk, then added a baguette, bottle of water and an apple to the arrangement. “Enjoy.” He shot her an uncomfortable look, then headed back the way he’d come.
“You okay?” the receptionist asked, lingering in the threshold and looking more than a little concerned.
“Mmm-hmm.” Gwen forced her hand from her chest and nodded. “I didn’t order lunch. That’s all.”
SVU Surveillance Page 4
