Running for Her Life (12 page)

“She’s not going to be in the house.”

Now Tara turned on him. “If you think…” She stopped. “Chad, will you excuse us?” she asked.

He looked very disappointed. “Sure.”

Just as soon as the man was far enough away that their conversation could be private, Jake jumped in. “Tara, I’m just the temporary guy who maybe doesn’t know anything. But something is not right. You’ve had nothing but trouble for the last few days. Now, we’re dealing with someone who is crazy enough to deliberately start a fire on a windy summer evening. You’re in danger. You need to tell me what’s going on or I’m not going to be able to help you.”

He could see the indecision in her eyes and for a brief second, he thought he’d gotten through. Then she squared her shoulders. “I understand that it’s probably not in my best interest to stay here tonight. But I do need to get some things from my house. Then I’ll see if I can stay with Alice and Henry for the night.”

“Stay with me,” he said. He lowered his voice even more. “I’m not expecting anything. I mean, what happened in the car was pretty damn nice. And I’m not going to lie and say that I didn’t really appreciate the invitation to come back here with you. But after this, well, I know you’ve got other things on your mind. I just want you to be safe.”

“But…”

He went for the final blow. “If Chad is right and the fire was deliberately set, somebody is at best trying to irritate you, or at worst trying to hurt you. You might be putting Alice and Henry in danger if it becomes known that you’re staying there.”

She chewed on her lip. It made him remember how sweet she tasted. He looked away. Tara was going to sleep in one bedroom and he was going to sleep in another. Only a jerk would think he could pick up where he’d left off after something like this.

Tara looked him in the eye. “I don’t want anybody to be in danger because of me. Anybody.”

He got the strangest sense that she was warning him. Of what? “I’m a cop, Tara. I can take care of myself. I can take care of you.”

She didn’t respond. Just turned and went inside her house. Jake walked over to where Andy was shooting the breeze with a couple of the firefighters. “Hey, Chief,” the young man said. “Got lucky here tonight, didn’t we?”

He’d almost gotten lucky. Real lucky.

Damn, he was as bad as Chad Wilson. He gave himself a mental head slap. He needed to get his mind out of the gutter and get it back in the game.

In this weather, this could have been a catastrophe. Even though the rain had been fast and furious that first night he’d arrived in Wyattville, the consistent heat over the past few weeks and the wind the past couple of days had taken a toll. The fire could not only have spread to the house, it was possible that it might have spread to the dry grass across the road and just kept on burning. Wildfires didn’t just happen out West.

It wouldn’t have been the easiest call to make.
Hey, Chase. Your town, yeah the one you gave me to watch over, is nothing but smoke and ashes.

Whoever had done this was either really stupid or really crazy. “Who called it in, Andy?”

“Some guy. Didn’t give his name. No caller ID.”

Even though it was eighty degrees, a chill ran down Jake’s spine. Somebody had deliberately set a fire and then called it in. Had he or she wanted Tara to be there, wanted to watch her reaction, her despair?

Jake scanned the crowd. For the first time, he hated being an outsider. Most everyone was a stranger to him. He didn’t know their faces, their habits, their quirks. “Andy, take a look around. Is there anybody here that you don’t know?”

He waited while the young man scanned the crowd. “Nope. A couple people that I haven’t seen for a few months, but everybody belongs.”

Jake didn’t feel any better. Was it possible that someone Tara trusted was trying to hurt her?

“I’m going to call the county and see if they can loan us somebody to watch this property tonight.”

“I could stay here,” Andy volunteered.

“I want you to go find Donny Miso. If he doesn’t have a really good alibi for tonight, you call me.”

* * *

T
ARA WAS QUIET
on the way into town. He figured she was probably exhausted. It was almost eleven and Jake knew that she’d probably been up at around five that morning. When he parked his squad car in front of Chase’s brick ranch and killed the engine, she just sat there.

“Planning on coming in?” he asked.

“Life is funny, you know,” she said.

“‘Funny ha-ha’ or ‘funny, this cannot be happening’?”

“Tonight, mostly the latter. If you’d have told me this morning that I was going to end up spending the night sleeping in Chase Montgomery’s house, I’d have thought you were crazy. But here I am.”

Yeah, life was funny. He’d been a decorated police officer, one of the first of his class to make detective. It was going to be his life’s work. Now look at him. Would his life ever be the same? “I guess,” he said, “the trick is to roll with the punches, go with the flow, make lemonade from lemons. Pick your cliché.”

“Know when to hold ’em, know when to fold ’em,” she said.

She sounded weary. Since the first moment he’d met her, she’d seemed to have tireless energy and such a great sense of purpose. Nel’s was more than just a restaurant to her. It was a place where people gathered, where stories were told, where friendships were cemented. It was her contribution back to a community that she loved.

He absolutely hated seeing her so defeated. “It’s going to be okay, Tara. Tomorrow is a new day. You’ll be more rested and ready to take it on. And we’ll catch the person who did this.”

She drew in a deep breath. “A garage is nothing. I know that. I didn’t even keep anything of value in there.” Her voice cracked at the end. He could hear the tears that she was trying so desperately to hold back. That was his undoing.

“Oh, Tara,” he said, pulling her into his arms. He rubbed her back.

She pressed her face against his shoulder and started to cry as if her heart was breaking. Big choking sobs. Tears that wet his shirt.

He held her, feeling clumsy and inept and more angry than ever. She was hurting and somebody was going to pay. “It’s going to be okay. I promise, Tara. I promise.”

* * *

T
ARA WAS MORTIFIED
that she’d cried all over Jake’s shirt. He’d just been so nice. And it continued after they got inside. He showed her the empty bedroom and the bath. He got her a glass of water and offered her magazines to read. When she declined, he turned on the television and asked her if she had a favorite program. Then he offered her a bowl of ice cream.

Finally, exhausted from his politeness, she took a shower. She knew she reeked of smoke and did not want to leave the smell in Chase’s house. There was expensive shampoo in the guest shower, and it made her wonder if solemn Chase had an occasion to entertain female guests who enjoyed the little luxuries of life. She rinsed and rinsed and wished she could wash away the day.

She finally shut off the water, got out, dried off and put on clean underwear and a big T-shirt that she’d stuffed in her overnight bag. Finally, she brushed her teeth. She turned off the lights, slipped into the strange bed and stared into the darkness. Then she got out of bed, shuffled her way to the door and locked it.

Was she locking Jake out or herself in? He’d been a gentleman tonight. After all, she
had
invited him to her place. Neither of them were kids. They both knew the score. Classic hookup.

Except that she’d never really been a hookup kind of girl. She’d dated a lot in college and had two relationships that each lasted more than a year. She’d slept with both of those men and had mourned the loss of the closeness when each relationship had ended. Then there’d been Michael. He’d told her that she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. She’d liked believing that. She’d been ready to settle down.

Tonight when Jake had held her face in his hands and kissed her, she’d felt terribly unsettled. But in a wonderful way. The need had been almost more than she could bear. She had wanted him with a ferociousness that bordered on scary. She’d suggested her house because, quite frankly, she wasn’t sure she could last until they got to town. And he’d been pretty much keeping pace.

At her house, he’d kept his professional distance. No one would have known that just minutes before, they’d been devouring each other or that they’d had plans to heat up the sheets. And then he’d literally held her at arm’s length until she’d thrown herself at him and cried all over his shirt.

Had it been that easy for him to forget about the kiss? Or what almost came next? She didn’t think she would ever forget it.

That, she decided as she crawled back into bed, was the reason she locked the door.

Once in bed, in the quiet darkness, she allowed herself to think about what she’d been avoiding since she’d seen the flames dancing out of her garage. Should she run now, without knowing for sure if it was Michael? What if it wasn’t? She’d be giving up everything she’d worked for. What if it was him? Could she afford to wait even another day? Her mind was whirling. She forced herself to breathe deep, to calm herself. She closed her eyes and envisioned spring flowers, miles and miles of them. She thought of puppies and snowflakes and warm cherry pie.

She thought of nothing, hoping desperately that her brain would shut down.

But it didn’t. When sleep finally came, her dreams were wild and angry. Michael had found her. He waited for her. Just like before. She opened the front door of her house and he stood in the kitchen. “I’ll never let you go,” he ranted.

Tara lunged toward the door but he stopped her. He grabbed her, his arms as strong as a vise, and she knew that fighting back was useless. He twisted her arm and the pain flamed. She looked down. Her arm hung at her side, flopping like a wet noodle. Michael laughed, holding his arms high above his head. In Michael’s hand, he held a long thin bone, covered with blood. Her bone, her blood. She looked down again at the flaccid flesh at her side and screamed in horror.

“Tara, Tara,” he called to her.

She couldn’t move. Blood poured out of her arm, pooling around her feet. He was going to make good on his promise—this time he was going to kill her.

“Somebody help me,” she screamed.

She woke up when the bedroom door flew open and slammed against the wall. It hung off its hinges and Jake filled the doorway. His hair was sticking up, his eyes looked huge, and he had his gun pointed at her.

“I’m okay,” she managed, grateful that he’d turned the hallway light on. Not only did she hate waking up in the dark but she didn’t want him shooting her by mistake. “I had a bad dream.”

She heard him sigh. “Tara. You scared ten years off me.” He came close enough that his knees brushed up against the bed. His chest was moving as he sucked in air. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked finally.

“No,” she replied honestly, not even able to look at him. Had she screamed out Michael’s name? Had she been that careless? She was terribly afraid that the tears that threatened would fall any minute. Jake had been through that once already tonight. He certainly didn’t deserve another round.

“Tara, that was some dream.”

She hadn’t had that particular nightmare for months. Had thought she had finally left it behind. “Yeah. Maybe I should have had that ice cream,” she said, hoping like heck that he’d let it go. She yawned and made a big production out of covering her mouth.

He got the message and stepped back.

And as crazy as it seemed, even though she was covered with a blanket and a sheet, she felt suddenly cold. “Jake,” she said. She could explain. Really should. But then he’d look at her with the same disgusted look that the cops in D.C. had. She couldn’t bear that. She never wanted to see that look in anyone’s eyes again. And then he’d have all kinds of questions. Questions that she couldn’t answer.

“Yeah?” he prompted, his tone patient.

“Nothing,” she said.

He stood there, motionless. The only sound in the quiet night was his breathing. After a minute, he turned and left, doing his best to close her bedroom door behind him.

Once he was gone, she felt cold and very alone. Perhaps more so than ever, because for those few minutes when his male scent had filled her room and his quiet competence had helped steady her, she’d almost been able to forget that he wanted a woman who wouldn’t lie to him.

Chapter Nine

The next morning, shortly after the sun rose past the horizon, Jake rolled down the windows of his squad car and drove to Tara’s house. Before leaving, he’d made sure she was still sleeping. He had stood in the wrecked doorway of her room and watched her for several minutes. Her face had been relaxed, her dreams peaceful.

They hadn’t been peaceful the night before. Had scared the hell out of him. It had been one really bizarre night. Full of highs and lows and every kind of emotion. Euphoria when she’d invited him back to her house. Outrage when he’d seen the fire. Sadness when she’d collapsed in his arms and cried her heart out. Awkwardness when they’d come inside. He’d been the host and she’d been the quiet guest who didn’t want to cause any trouble.

Then she’d taken a very long shower. Not that he’d been timing her or listening or hell no, envisioning her naked in there. He’d heard the bed squeak and that had caused him a few uncomfortable moments. Flipping through the television channels, he’d finally landed on an old Adam Sandler movie.

The next thing he knew, her screams had awakened him from a sound sleep. For just a brief moment, he’d been back in a dark warehouse, and Marcy had been pointing a gun at his heart. And the screaming had been in his head.

Then he’d realized where he was and had run for her room, sure that someone had somehow managed to get inside. And the damn door had been locked. He’d have to get that fixed before Chase returned.

When he’d found her safe, he’d wanted to hold her. And not let go until both of them stopped shaking. But then she’d played the It’s Nothing card.
It’s nothing
you need to worry about.
It’s nothing
that we’re going to discuss. That’s what had kept him up for the rest of the night. That and the fact that every time he closed his eyes, he saw her sitting up in bed, her ridiculously long-sleeved big T-shirt slipping off her shoulder, showing soft, silky skin.