by Kay Hooper
“I asked him if he’d told anyone about your plans for the boutique. Did you ask your uncle Cam, by the way?”
“Yes. He’d forgotten I’d even mentioned the plans. All he has on his mind these days is furniture. What about Nick?”
“Didn’t tell a soul.”
“Then it really is a short list of people who knew.”
“Unless …”
“Unless?”
“Unless the agent added that part when she realized you were upset. So she wouldn’t sound so irresponsible in telling a stranger where you’d be.”
“I never thought of that.” She sighed. “Why is nothing ever as simple as you think it is?”
Adam didn’t answer until he’d parked the car and come around to open her door. Then he said, “To keep us on our toes, maybe?” He was smiling, but his eyes weren’t.
“As good a reason as any, I guess.”
“Come on,” he said, offering his arm. “Let’s forget all about it for an hour or so.”
“That I definitely agree with,” Rachel said so cheerfully that she almost convinced herself.
The phone conversation was brief.
“You wanted to know where they went.”
“Yes.”
“A restaurant first. Then a quick stop at the lawyer’s office. She went in, he didn’t.”
“And from there?”
“Looks like they’re heading to the store.”
“All right.”
“Do you want me to—”
“I want you to follow your orders.”
“Right.”
“And this time don’t fuck up.”
“I’m surprised Becket didn’t insist on coming along,” Adam commented as Rachel unlocked the front door of the store and they went inside.
“He did make a suggestion.”
“That he come along?”
“It might be a good idea, he said. Just to look the place over and hear about all my plans. So he could advise me about business permits and so on.”
“Which you’re perfectly capable of finding out on your own.”
“Exactly what I told him.”
Adam looked at the big empty space surrounding them. “Still, this is quite an undertaking. Maybe he could advise you.”
“You’re more charitable about him than he is about you.” Rachel kept her voice casual.
“I’m a nice guy.”
Are you? Are you really? “And not a suspicious lawyer.”
“I guess it’s an occupational hazard for him.”
“Definitely more charitable than Graham.” Rachel shook her head, then said, “I want to go check out the back. I didn’t take more than a quick look last time.”
“Hold on a second.” Adam slipped around her, moving quickly enough to catch her off guard, and went through the door into the back areas of the building.
By the time Adam reappeared, Rachel had managed to remind herself that all kinds of appearances could be deceptive. Maybe Adam really was worried about her safety.
Or maybe he just wanted her to think so.
God, I hate this!
“Satisfied?” she asked lightly.
Equally lightly, he said, “Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean someone isn’t out to get you. Being careful never hurts.”
“What did you expect to find back there?”
“A clear space and a locked rear door. Which is what I found.”
“You do realize this place doesn’t even have gas heat? It’s electric.”
“I realize it now—after seeing the furnace in the back.”
“May I go back there now?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
They were, she thought, both being polite. Very polite. “I need to get a rough estimate of the space back there.”
He followed her this time. “So you can get the work started?”
“That’s the idea.” She stood beside a tall stepladder left behind by the previous occupant, opened the small notebook she’d brought along, and used one of the steps as a makeshift desk.
While he watched, she paced off the dimensions of the office space, then did the same in the storage area behind it, and recorded the rough measurements in her notebook. “Plenty of space.”
“I’d say so.”
She looked at him quickly, the hair on the nape of her neck stirring suddenly. “What’s wrong?”
Adam was looking slowly around. “Nothing.”
“There is something. I can hear it in your voice.”
He shook his head. “I thought I heard something, but I guess not. Are you about done?”
Rachel closed the notebook and put it in her shoulder bag. “I have enough to get started with.”
“Then let’s go.” He took her hand, and she could feel his tension as they walked through the big, echoing space of the store.
Because he thought something might happen? Or because he knew something would? As Graham had pointed out to her earlier, just because Adam was with her when something happened didn’t necessarily acquit him of being responsible, as Rachel had assumed. He could, Graham had suggested, be working with a partner.
The suggestion made Rachel feel a bit sick.
When they stood outside on the sidewalk and Rachel had locked the door behind them, she realized she’d been almost holding her breath. It sounded a little shaky when she let it go.
He looked down at her. “I’m sorry, Rachel—I didn’t mean to worry you. I guess I’m just jumpy.”
She shook her head, too relieved that nothing had happened to hide it. “I’ll have a good security system installed tomorrow, and find out when I can get a contractor in to inspect the place from end to end.”
“Good idea.”
They had to walk about half a block to Adam’s car. But they were no more than twenty feet from the store when the sudden roar of an engine jerked both of them around.
It was a huge black car, the windows tinted dark, and it was coming straight for them.
Fast.
For what seemed like an eternity, Rachel stared, frozen, at the car bearing down on them. She saw it shear off a decorative lamppost as it jumped the curb and roared onto the sidewalk toward them.
Fast.
So terribly fast.
A hard arm locked around her middle.
Rachel felt herself yanked off her feet, and then the car was gone from her vision and only the ungodly roar of its laboring engine filled her ears. Adam had literally swept her out of the path of that juggernaut.
Then they were on the hard pavement, the momentum rolling them over and over, and the engine of the black car screamed.
Rachel felt the hot breath of its passing.
• • •
The paramedics treated Rachel for a sprained wrist and one ugly abrasion just below her elbow. They said she was in shock.
She agreed with that assessment.
Once again, Adam’s thick leather jacket had protected him somewhat, even though he had taken the brunt of the punishment in trying to shield Rachel. But he, too, had been treated, for several abrasions on his hands and a scrape along one cheek.
They were both lucky, the paramedics said.
The cops said the same thing, and were very unhappy to find that none of the witnesses to the scene could tell them much.
“A big black car,” one of the cops said to Adam while Rachel was being patched up. “Tinted windows, no way to see the driver. And nobody got a license plate.” He eyed the shattered lamppost and what was left of a bench the car had taken out before leaving the sidewalk, and shook his head. “Damned thing must have been a tank.”
“It was big and heavy, no question,” Adam said. “I didn’t get the make or model. It just happened too damned fast.”
“Do you think it was deliberate? Was the car driven onto the sidewalk in an attempt to get you two?” It seemed an automatic question; this officer seemed to have no awareness of Rachel’s previous close calls.
Adam hesita
ted, then shrugged. “Like I said, it all happened too fast to be sure of anything. It could have been a drunk driver, I suppose, or somebody who just lost control.” He didn’t mention that laboring engine, a sound he suspected would linger in his memory for a long, long time.
And in Rachel’s, no doubt.
He saw one of the paramedics helping her out of their van, and said quickly to the cop, “I need to get Miss Grant home. You know how to get in touch if there are any more questions.”
“Sure, go ahead.”
“She’s in shock,” the paramedic told Adam flatly when he reached them. “But she won’t go to the hospital. Keep her warm and get something hot inside her.”
Adam hesitated, on the point of overruling Rachel. But then she looked up at him with pleading eyes, and there was no way he could withstand that. He took off his jacket and put it around her shoulders, then took her to his car and put her inside. He turned up the heat, full blast.
And he got her away from there.
“More hot tea?” she murmured when he pulled over in front of a cafe five minutes later.
“I think so. Unless you’d rather have something else?”
“No. Tea’s fine.”
Adam didn’t want to leave her for a minute, but her pallor and the darkness of her eyes bothered him. And she looked so small with his jacket enveloping her.
He brought the hot, sweet tea back quickly, and put the cup into Rachel’s hands.
“Thank you,” she said politely.
“Drink it, Rachel.”
Obedient, she sipped.
She didn’t say anything else until they were almost at her house, and when she did speak, her voice was unnaturally steady. “In case you’re wondering, I believe it now.”
He looked at her quickly and saw a single tear fall.
“Rachel …”
“Someone wants me dead.” She drew a breath, and a tremor shook her voice. “Someone really wants me dead.”
TWELVE
isten to me, Rachel. I am not going to let them succeed.”
She sniffed, then murmured, “That’s twice you’ve saved my life. How can I ever thank you for that?”
He didn’t like the way she sounded. Almost mechanical. “Don’t,” he said. “Just … don’t.”
“We have to find out who it is, Adam. We have to finish going through Dad’s papers.” “Yes. But not today.”
Rachel was silent while he parked the car near the house and came around to help her out. For a moment, she stood there, looking at the house, and then she said, “I won’t be a prisoner.”
“I know. Come on.” He put an arm around her and took her into the house.
He saw her safely into the anxious care of Fiona and Darby, both of whom seemed to know exactly what Rachel needed. They took her upstairs at once, Darby saying something about a hot bath and Fiona promising hot soup.
Adam briefly explained the day’s events to Cameron, who was appalled, then promised he’d return the following day to check on Rachel. Then he drove back to Richmond, to Duncan and Ross Investments.
As he strode rapidly through the lobby and toward the offices, Adam thought one or two people had the idea of asking him his business, but he didn’t give anyone the chance. He went into Nick’s office and closed the door behind him.
Behind his desk, Nick immediately looked up and asked, “How is she?”
Adam wasn’t surprised by his knowledge. “Shaken. Scared. It’s a miracle she isn’t dead.”
“You’re why she isn’t dead, according to what I heard.”
Adam waved that off. “Have you found Galloway?”
Nicholas eyed him somewhat warily. “I have a few possibles. Why?”
Adam came forward and put his hands on Nick’s desk, leaning toward the other man. “Because I want to talk to him.”
“Adam—”
“I have to know. I have to know if it’s Galloway.” “And if it is?”
“Then I have to make damned sure he doesn’t kill Rachel trying to get to me.”
“And you propose to do that how?”
Adam laughed shortly. “Break his neck?”
“The law frowns on that.”
“I don’t really care.”
“For Rachel’s sake, you’d better.” Nicholas paused a moment and watched that sink in, then went on calmly. “I agree, we need to have a little talk with him.”
“We?”
“Well,” Nicholas said, rising, “your hands already look pretty beat up. Mine are nice and fresh. Let’s go.”
“He left his jacket,” Rachel murmured.
“I’m sure he’ll be back for it tomorrow,” Darby said. She removed the tray from Rachel’s lap and added, “You should try to rest. I’ll be glad to sit with you—”
“No, Darby, you’ve already done enough. I’m okay, really. The bath helped, and so did the soup. I’ll probably be able to sleep in a little while. You go on home.”
“Sure?”
Rachel smiled. “See you tomorrow.”
But when she was alone in her bedroom, Rachel felt the shakes start up all over again. She was bundled in a thick robe as well as pajamas, but still she shivered. She was already so sore that getting comfortable in bed was impossible, so finally she got up and took a couple of aspirin from her bathroom medicine cabinet.
That didn’t help the shakes.
She went to the chair where Darby had left Adam’s jacket and sat down there, using it as a blanket. It smelled of him, and she inhaled slowly, glad that whatever cologne or aftershave he used was not what Tom had worn. Very glad.
The shakes stopped after a little while despite the insistent inner voice reminding Rachel once again that just because Adam had been with her, just because he had seemingly saved her life once more, she still couldn’t be sure he wasn’t involved in this.
No. How can I believe that? He could have been killed as well, and surely that makes him innocent? Surely …
A few minutes later, she found the notebook in the inner pocket.
And recognized her father’s handwriting immediately.
The shakes came back.
Max Galloway had a long history of dealing with his victims by remote control. Call someone and give an order; plant evidence to be found eventually; set explosives to go off when he was far away.
He seldom stood close. Rarely looked them in the eye.
Which was one reason he hated Adam Delafield.
Another reason was that he really hated getting slammed against a hard tile wall.
“I’m not going to ask again, Max.” Adam’s voice was quite gentle, in stark contrast to the hands threatening to make Max’s next breath an arduous challenge.
Max sent one glance past Adam’s shoulder, and wasn’t reassured. Nicholas seemed indolent as he leaned against the closed door of the dingy men’s room. He held the gun with indifference.
But it was a big gun.
“All right,” Max gasped, coughing once in an effort to get those iron fingers around his throat to loosen. They loosened. A bit.
“Talk,” Adam said. “You followed me from San Francisco.”
“Hell, what did you expect?” Max allowed his honest indignation to surface. “Jesus Christ, Adam, you fucking ruined my life! I’ve got a price on my head because of you.”
“You went renegade, Max. You almost blew up two square blocks of the city. Did you expect me to just let you do that?”
“It wasn’t any of your business, Adam! You were out, how many times did I hear you say it? Just wanted to run your company and be left alone. So I left you alone! Your company wasn’t in that area, so—”
Adam tightened his fingers, and Max choked.
Easing off just a bit, Adam said, “I’m not here to listen to you try to justify wholesale murder, Max. All I’m interested in right now is what you’ve done in Richmond.”
“Nothing,” Max said sullenly.
“Oh, no? You didn’t try to blow up a building with me in
it?”
Max looked bewildered. “Somebody try to blow you up, Adam? You just make friends everywhere, don’t you?”
Adam applied a bit of judicious pressure, and Max choked again. “You’re saying you didn’t call the real estate office trying to find Rachel and me? Get there ahead of us and set a timer?”
Max coughed. “It wasn’t me, goddammit! I haven’t been in town long enough to be able to lay my hands on— my usual supplies. Especially not with this fucking price on my head!”
Adam glanced at Nicholas, who lifted a brow and shrugged.
Returning his attention to Max, Adam said, “But you were driving that car today, weren’t you?”
“Car? What car?” This time his bewilderment wasn’t convincing.
Adam slammed him against the wall again, making it perfectly obvious that he didn’t care if he cracked Max’s skull open.
Max groaned. “Shit. Okay, okay.”
“It was you?”
“Yeah, it was me. I saw you with the girl and—it just seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Bullshit. You came here planning to get me.”
“Well, yeah,” Max said. “But not with a car. That was a great car too, and I had to ditch it right after.”
“Another black mark against me?” Adam asked dryly.
“I really liked that car, Adam.”
“How were you planning to get me?”
Vaguely, Max said, “I hadn’t decided. Something painful.”
Adam glanced at Nicholas, who was smiling slightly, then looked back at Max and tried not to smile himself. It wasn’t that Max wasn’t dangerous; he was definitely that. But he also possessed a kind of cockeyed charm that had more than once saved his skin.
Still, Adam wasn’t about to let him off that easily. And remembering what had happened to Rachel today made his fingers tighten on Max’s throat once more. “You made a big mistake today, Max. I wasn’t alone when you aimed that car at me. Because of you, the lady got hurt. That makes me very unhappy, Max.”
“Stop talking to him,” Nicholas advised calmly. “Just kill him.”
When he was allowed to breathe again, Max muttered, “I know the good cop-bad cop routine.”
“Yeah,” Adam said. “But you also know we aren’t cops. And neither one of us is very good. Now, give me one convincing reason why I shouldn’t collect that bounty —which is, as I recall, for your carcass dead or alive.”
