Authors: Lynde Lakes
“If you have complaints, register them with the S.F.P.D. The cops called the ambulance and your office.” He raked his hand through his hair. “Look, you’ve been out for over thirty minutes, and we’ve all been as worried as hell.”
Her regret grew stronger. None of this was his fault. “I’m sorry I worried you, but I can’t allow myself to be coddled by you or anyone while Tess is in danger.”
Dane let out a sigh of exasperation. “If you promise to lie still, I’ll see what I can find out.” He turned and went through the curtains.
She hadn’t wanted him to go. But all she could think about was Tess. Jill bit her lip. Fear curled through her gut. It was as though she were watching sand pour through a giant hourglass. Soon the grains would all sift to the bottom. Then it would be too late.
Time passed. It seemed like an eternity. “Your X-rays look good,” the doctor said as he entered her curtained area.
“Can I go?”
Please, don’t make me stay here.
He nodded. Relief washed over her.
The doctor gave her a packet of pain pills and handed her a glass of water. “Take two now and the others as directed.” He paused. “Do you have your own doctor?”
The nurse wheeled her outside and waited with her until Dane got the car. It was starting to get dark outside. Jill had lost all track of time. It had turned cool. She rubbed her arms against the dampness hanging in the air.
Dane pulled up in a shiny red Porsche. He helped her from the chair to the car with a warm, steadying grip on her arm. She winced with discomfort as she eased into the seat.
“I don’t normally drive this to work.” He started the powerful engine. “But until I can replace Nell...” His deep voice trailed away.
“I’m sorry about your other car.”
“Yeah, well it’s no great monetary loss. Just sentimental value.”
She glanced to the rear—pain shot through her neck. She eased her head back against the cushioned headrest. “I don’t read you as a sentimental guy.”
“Not everyone fits your neat, psychologist package, Jill.”
She sighed. She’d deserved that. He was paying her back for her earlier sharpness. She sank into a silence, barely aware of the business district lights as Dane drove toward the freeway. “That was a good piece of driving today,” she said after they’d gone a few more miles. “Like a pro, a stunt driver. I mean...we could’ve been killed!”
“It wasn’t so much skill as staying calm.”
“Well, good job, anyway.”
A closeness rose between them, and no matter how hard she fought it, it remained. Almost dying together had strengthened their shaky bond. He’d stuck by her through the accident, waited all those hours at emergency. His concern meant more to her than she dared to admit.
She shivered. Someone wanted him dead, too. Now besides staying alive herself, she had Tess and Dane to worry about. She rubbed her head. This dubious alliance had thrust her onto a trickier, more treacherous path. She should tell him about the van that followed her the night before. If only she knew how much she could trust him.
“I’m just tired.” If she told him about the van, it’d charge his reporter’s batteries for sure. She wasn’t up to dealing with that. But perhaps if he’d known, he could have somehow avoided the accident.
Dane checked the rearview mirror often. “Are you holding something back?” he asked.
“No. No.”
His sharp look told Jill he didn’t believe her. Fighting pain, she turned her head and looked out the window to hide her lie. It was her job to hold back, and his to get her to spill her guts. Did he really think he could get her to do that?
“Saratoga, right?” Dane asked.
“Yes. You have a good memory.” It was hours ago that she’d given the police her address—hours ago that she’d set out to find Tess.
She let out a breath of relief when he turned onto her elm tree-lined street. It had been tougher than she’d expected to get into a car again. During the entire drive, she’d been tensed for more trouble.
Jill pointed to the left. “It’s the house with the white picket fence.”
Dane pulled into her driveway and turned off the ignition. “I’ll walk in with you.”
She was too worn out to protest, and with her knees still so shaky, she welcomed his support. Tiny fires surged through her veins as he put his arm around her and escorted her to the door. Her heart raced and she questioned the wisdom of enjoying his touch so much.
Chapter Thirteen
She grabbed his arm. “No,
you
wait, Reporter. This is my job.”
Cautiously, she stepped into the bedroom. Empty. She pivoted into the master bathroom. She froze. Blood smeared the mirror like the swipe of a windshield blade.
Dane stopped short. “Damn.”
He tried to put his arms around her. Jill’s training wouldn’t let her relax and accept his comfort and strength. She stepped away. “I’m fine.”
Dane stared at her for a moment—something unreadable flickered in his eyes. “If you’re sure you’re okay, I’ll call the police and a locksmith.”
Like a magnet, the mirror drew her gaze. She couldn’t stop looking at it.
Please, God, don’t let that be my sister’s blood.
The police and her Fed team arrived, each taking their own pictures, lifting their own samples of blood. For a while they scurried around her home like roaches, invading every nook and cranny. Finally, they dusted for fingerprints then departed.
She stood in the middle of the living room and stared at the fine residue of powder left behind. Windowsills, doorways and furniture covered with the grimy film were a reminder of how easily someone had gained access to her home. Would she ever feel safe again?
Jill leaned against the fireplace mantle for support. Her knees wouldn’t stop trembling.
“You shouldn’t stay here tonight.” Dane’s deep voice encircled her like a warm blanket. “I could take you to a hotel. Or you’re welcome to stay at my place.”
It touched her that he wanted to get her away from the horror of the blood. The offer tempted Jill, but she refused to be frightened out of her home.
“Tess might call here.” It was a phony excuse. Tess had the number of her cellular and beeper.
Dane took a step toward Jill, then stopped. She was sharply aware they were alone. His dark eyes drew her into their depths. The brief moment within those warm chocolate pools softened the trauma of the day.
The hair on the back of her neck bristled. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Always. I’m attached to a special unit, so we’re all armed. My job doesn’t fit into a neat pigeon-hole, Dane, and I seldom sit behind a desk like psychologists in private practice.”
“It would be in character. He gets his kicks from terrorizing women.” Jill had to weigh carefully what she told this newsman. She didn’t want her words to end up in print.
Jill shrugged. If she told him what she feared, it might come true. “I think you should know. Someone in a dark van followed me last night.”
“What?” His shout could’ve drowned out thunder. His neck flushed. “Why didn’t you tell me about it earlier?”
“Prior to the hit-and-run, I had no reason.” She exhaled. “I reported the tail, called for backup—the usual security routine. I didn’t expect trouble today.”
He uncurled his fists and his skin returned to its normal color. “Up to now this guy’s kept a low profile. Why would he risk this?”
His eyes softened. “We’re both jumpy.” He came close and gently touched her arm. “How about something to eat? I’m good with eggs.” His deep tone soothed her. “Then we can try to make some sense out of this.”
“Hush. You don’t have to do a thing. I’ll take care of everything. Just rest.” He placed an extra pillow behind her back, and headed for the kitchen.
With thumb and forefinger, Jill massaged the bridge of her nose. How could Dane expect her to rest? Someone had been in her house, perhaps had even gone through her things. What had the intruder learned about her?
Low piano music drifted from her stereo. Dane must have turned it on. His footfalls faded as he returned to the kitchen. The pills the doctor had given her kicked in. She felt weightless. Jill closed her eyes and relaxed under the spell of
Clair de Lune
. Her tension floated away.
She must have dozed off—the next thing she knew wonderful aromas of bacon and toasting bread came from the kitchen. A pang of hunger shot through her stomach. It was then she remembered she hadn’t eaten that day.
Dane hummed as he moved about the kitchen. His deep baritone voice carried into the living room and brought Jill a sense of well-being. It was good he’d stayed. She wasn’t ready to be alone. Usually she loved her solitude, but not tonight. She hadn’t invited a man to her home for at least a year. Now it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to have Dane in her kitchen.
Chapter Fourteen