In the Arms of a Stranger (Entangled Ignite) (5 page)

He kept his gaze on her, silently urging her to continue.

She’d said this much, there was no point in stopping now. “Brooks came to my brother’s.”

“That same day?”

“No, two days later.”

“What did he say?”

“That Wade was missing. He wanted to know when I’d last spoken with him.” She remembered the desperation of not knowing what to do. Wade had said to trust only JP, but Brooks had been so insistent. “I didn’t tell him about Wade’s call, or about you. He wanted to know where Wade kept his work things—papers, computer, stuff like that. I told him there was nothing from work. He just used my father’s old veterinary office next to the barn as a workshop for his fishing items. He tied flies there, and did some woodworking. Brooks and another man came to the house and searched. They turned the place upside down but didn’t find anything, so they drove out and searched the workshop. They even searched the barn.”

And they’d done more, but she wouldn’t reveal that. Wouldn’t tell this man that Brooks and the Agency had investigated her brother, their friends, their finances. Everything. And had asked just enough questions to tell Abby they suspected Wade of something.
Something bad
.

“And then?” JP asked.

“Two weeks later, Brooks came back and told me they’d found Wade. He was dead.”
No, that wasn’t exactly right
. “Killed. Brooks said killed.”

“He didn’t say where they found him?”

“No. He brought someone with him, who made sure”—her voice trembled, but a quick breath banished that horrible day, at least for now—“I got the benefits Cole and I were entitled to because of Wade’s job. That man offered to arrange the funeral, since it would be a military one.”

“Do you remember that person’s name?”

“Bill Smith. I remember thinking it should have been John Doe.”

JP regarded her. “You didn’t think that was his real name?”

“I don’t know. It just seemed odd.” She shrugged, suddenly exhausted, hating that she sounded so uninformed, so out of the loop. She’d spent weeks questioning everything about that time, and the whole past year questioning her marriage.

“Did you get Wade’s personal effects?”

“I got his wristwatch and his wallet.”

JP pursed his lips. “What about clothes? His car?”

She shook her head. “Brooks said all of that was part of the investigation.”

“Did he offer any explanation at all of Wade’s death?”

“No.” She would not tell this stranger what Brooks had hinted at. Wade was honorable. She would prove it, given help and information.

“Did you ask how he died?”

“Of course I asked!” She hadn’t meant to sound so vehement. “I even asked to see his body.” She drew another steadying breath. “Brooks said it would be best that I didn’t.”

JP frowned. “Did he explain why?”

“I figured it was because they’d…done things to him.” She’d hoped Brooks would deny it, tell her that nothing like that had happened, but he didn’t. She’d been a coward until the last moment. At the funeral home, without Brooks’s knowledge, she’d asked to see Wade. He hadn’t looked right. He’d looked—repaired. Made-up. She remembered the funeral director’s words—
we did the best we could, but
… “I think they did do things to him,” she whispered finally. She tried to tell JP what she’d seen, but the words stuck in her throat.

“Where’s he buried, Abby?” JP asked in a low voice, taking her thoughts away from the edges of horror.

“Pensacola, at the national cemetery there,” she said, looking down briefly before adding, “Did you know he was in the Army?”

He hesitated, but finally answered, “Yes.”

His honesty hurt. “I didn’t.”

“Abby, it’s covert operations—”

“I know exactly what it is. Was.” She took a breath, wondering if she could say it. “Now.”

There
, she’d admitted her total ignorance. “I never asked about his work. He said he traveled because he was a government contractor. But he could have told me, he could have trusted me with something as simple as the fact that he had been a Ranger before.” God, how she hated the quaver in her voice. “He could have told me about himself, so I could help if…if something happened to him.”

“He wanted to protect you. To keep you away from danger.”

She was sure JP wanted to make her feel better, also sure he was right. Wade
had
wanted to protect her. That was the type of man he was. But the truth about himself would have protected her and Cole much more than this helpless ignorance.

“Do you still have Buck?”

“You know about Buck?” Wade’s buckskin quarter horse, the reason she’d met him. She shouldn’t have been surprised JP knew about Buck, but she was. She was also disappointed—
make that hurt
—that this man knew so much about Wade while he’d confided so little in her.

“Wade was a cowboy at heart,” JP said. “He loved that horse.” The explanation smacked of pity to Abby. She hated being pitied.

“Wade bought my dad’s place so Buck would have the run of the pastures over by the barn. That’s why I was on that road tonight. I’d gone to put him and another animal in the barn because of the storms. A downed limb blocked me from the highway, so I had to come home the back way.”

He glanced around, as though looking for the barn.

“It’s about a half mile away, through the woods,” she explained. “Not terribly convenient, but it worked well for us.”

“Ah. Well, I’m glad you held on to the horse. Wade would’ve wanted…” He trailed off, dragging a hand over his face. “Anyway.”

They fell into an awkward silence. She didn’t want to talk about anything else that would point out just how little she’d known her husband. What else did JP know about him that she didn’t?

“Is Mommy’s toe okay now?” Cole asked from the hallway.

Abby jumped. JP looked over at her son, then down at her foot.

“I’ll make sure,” he said, without even a glance at her.

She didn’t know what to think when he knelt before her, cupped the back of her calf, and lifted her leg to examine her foot. Didn’t know what to think when she had to steady herself by grasping his shoulder. Definitely didn’t want to think about the warmth that crept into her hand, up her arm, from the contact. She released him quickly. Their gazes collided in the flickering candlelight, his eyes intense with something she couldn’t quite decipher.

“I’m fine,” she said, acutely aware of JP, of his masculinity, of her desperation to move away from him. “It’s nothing.”

He put her leg down and rose. She noticed a wobble in his movements. He winced as he stood, his eyes becoming a little unfocused. Even in the dim light, he looked too pale.

“Will John eat with us?”

“Mr. John,” Abby corrected. Calling him Mr. Blackmon was out of the question.

She wondered what sort of names Wade had used besides his own—if his name had really been Wade Price. If he’d trusted her enough to reveal his true identity. Maybe his last name had been Humperdink. Maybe hers was now. The dark humor did nothing for her.

“Will
Mr
. John eat with us?” Cole persisted.

“No,” she said quickly.

Cole scrunched up his mouth, then began, “But—”

She held up a hand. “You’re right, honey. I should have asked him.” She’d been much too quick to dismiss feeding JP. He probably hadn’t eaten, which might be why he looked so bad. “Dinner’s still warm in the oven—”

“Thanks, but no.” He turned, his body tense, and she heard a car. Headlights flashed across the living room.

“That’s not Brooks,” she said. “He drives an SUV. Whatever it is, it’s smaller. Probably one of the sheriff’s deputies. They’re checking on those of us who live way out, because of the storm.”

JP didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. He was hiding, and not just from Brooks. And the reason for that had something to do with Wade. He’d come here expecting to find her husband alive. What did he want?

“Whoever it is, I’ll make sure they leave. Why don’t you go to the back and clean up for dinner?” She was so close to knowing that no matter who was out there, she wasn’t going to let JP go without finally learning the truth.

She pulled the coffee table back to its original position and called Cole. Squatting so he could see her clearly, she asked, “Remember our make-believe game?”

“Uh-huh,” he said, turning to JP. “He’s a secret.”

“That’s right,” she said. “He’s just our secret. Yours and mine.”

“’Kay.”

She nodded at JP, who picked up his boots and vanished into the darkened recesses of the hall. She turned to answer the knock on her door.

Ron Hodges, who volunteered with Search and Rescue, stood on her front porch. She couldn’t help the quick glance she threw toward the hallway.

“Evening, Abby,” Ron said, smiling, as he removed his baseball cap. Ron had fished with Wade and sometimes stopped by to see if she needed any help. But if it weren’t for the storm, she’d suspect he was here looking for JP, too.

“Evening, Ron,” Abby replied.

“Talked to Sam. He said your power’s out, so I thought I’d better check on you.”

“I’m fine,” she said with a forced smile.

“When did your lights go out?”

She leaned against the doorjamb. “Half hour ago, maybe.”

“Called the power company?”

She shook her head. “My phone’s out, too.”

Ron looked around her, into the house. “Why don’t I check the phone for you?”

“It’s all right.” She was sure she answered too sharply. “I’ll wait—”

“I’ll radio it in if I can’t figure it out. I worked for the phone company years ago. Hate to leave you out here without power or a phone.”

She gritted her teeth, hoping he couldn’t see her dismay. Panic was more like it. “Oh, yes, sure.”
Lame, lame, lame!
She just wasn’t any good at—what? Deception? She’d lied to Brooks so many times. She was hiding a man she knew nothing about. Good Lord, if she was no good at deception, it wasn’t from lack of practice. “Though I do have my cell phone.” He didn’t need to know she could never get a signal here.

“Still. Can’t hurt.”

She stepped aside, all the while wondering where JP would hide. She pointed to the lamp table as Ron came in. “There’s the landline.”

The lights came on suddenly. She jumped, startled.

Ron chuckled. “Storm gotcha jumpy, Abby?”

She tried to laugh, tried to breathe around the insanity of the last hour. She managed a shaky, “Yeah.”

He just shook his head. “It’s been a long night. Tornado touched down at the north end of the county. Ed Miller’s barn pretty much blew apart—”

“Mommy, I have to go,” Cole said, squirming and holding the front of his shorts. “Hurry! I don’t want the lights to go out again.”

“You go ahead with Cole, Abby. I’ll check the phone.”

As she turned, she saw a stain on the rug under the coffee table. A dark stain where JP had fallen. Mud, she guessed. She hoped Ron wouldn’t see it. Why hadn’t she thought of something to stop him from coming inside? But she’d had no choice. Ron would know something was wrong if she’d kept him from helping her.

Reluctantly, she followed Cole down the hallway.

She half expected to find JP in the bathroom, but he wasn’t there. Cole went through the entire ritual, which included lingering way too long as he washed his hands, while her nerves screamed for him to hurry. When he finished, she went back to the living room. Ron wasn’t there. She fought back panic. What if JP had passed out again? What if he’d done something to—?

No, that wasn’t possible. He hadn’t hurt her, he wouldn’t hurt the older man. “Ron?”

“I’m checking the phone in your bedroom,” he called.

Relief at hearing his voice was instantly replaced by gut-wrenching dread. What if he and JP bumped into each other? Ron was no match for a young, trained officer. She grasped Cole’s hand and rushed to her room.

Ron sat on her bed fiddling with the phone on the bedside table. “You didn’t hang it up right, Abby. That’s all.” He put the receiver back onto the cradle and stood.

“You’re kidding.” It had worked when she spoke with Sam. Cole had probably bumped it when he got her pillow. That was the only explanation, but she couldn’t say that to Ron. “I must have bumped it. Maybe when I”—
when I what?—
“took a nap,” she finished in a rush.

Before she said anything else totally dumb, she walked into the hallway.

Ron followed.

“Daddy takes naps,” Cole said.

Everything inside Abby screamed to stop, turn around, and try to explain what Cole was saying. She kept walking.

“Your daddy?” Ron asked from behind her.

“I’ve told Cole his daddy liked to take naps.” She turned, praying Cole would say nothing more.

Ron frowned, looking puzzled.

Desperation clawed at her thoughts. “So he’ll take a nap,” she added quickly, relieved to have a response make at least some sense.

He stared at her for a few seconds, then grinned. “Good idea. I’ll tell my daughter to try that with her boy.”

She continued down the hall toward the front door, half listening to Ron. Something ahead on the hardwood floor glistened under the hall light. She stared, mystified, and started to bend to wipe it up when she realized what it was.

Blood
.

Oh, God. That had to be JP’s blood.

He was
hurt
. That was why he looked so bad—why he’d fainted. But where was all the blood coming from? She hadn’t seen any blood on him…but the power had been out. She wouldn’t have seen it.

Ron was saying something, but she missed it. She kept walking, desperate to get rid of him. “Thanks so much for solving my phone problem, Ron.”

“No need to thank me. Glad I could help.” He looked around the living room.

Was there more blood? Her gaze sought out the stain on the carpet. It wasn’t mud.
Damn!

“Anytime,” Ron was saying. “I know how hard it’s been for you since, well, Wade…” He looked sorry, as he always did when he spoke about Wade. “Can’t be too careful, you know, livin’ out here all alone. You shouldn’t be without a phone.”

“Yes, you’re right.”