Vanishing Act (11 page)

A fly buzzed by her ear, and she snapped out of her trance, deciding she should start picking up her things. She had just put her towel back in her bag when Nate finally spoke.

“It's definitely been cut.”

“How can you tell?”

He motioned her over and pointed at the end of the tubing. “It's a clean cut. If this had broken on its own, there'd be a lot of fraying around the edge here. And it's likely the rubber never would have been severed—at least not completely. Someone did this on purpose. And they were smart about it, too.” He gestured with his hand. “See where they cut it? It's right next to the brake, so that you wouldn't notice it just by glancing at the bike. You wouldn't notice until you tried pulling on your brakes.”

She quivered with a fresh wave of uncertainty. How could someone be so cruel? Goodwill's man was just plain evil.

“Let's grab your things and go back to your place.”

Danielle nodded silently, at a complete loss for words.

When she stooped down to pick up the larger piece of her phone, an enormous, ugly toad jumped at her. She shrieked and stumbled backward, landing heavily on her rear.

Nate was by her side in an instant. “You okay?” he asked.

She blinked rapidly as he held his hand out in front of her. His stance was solid, as though braced to pick her up if she needed it. At the very least he offered her a tug to get her back on her feet.

She grabbed at his hand, but he deftly dodged her
fingers, instead wrapping his hand completely around her wrist. His tug was swift, and she popped to her feet, nearly toppling over onto him. Nate caught her shoulders and ducked down to look into her eyes, but she evaded his gaze, struggling to get sudden wayward tears under control. How could she possibly be breaking down at this moment? She was next to the strongest man she'd ever met, and she felt like she was falling apart.

“Hey… Danielle.” Nate put his fingers on her chin and turned her face back so that he could look into her eyes. “It's going to be okay. We're in this together. Okay?”

She could only manage a small nod.

Suddenly his kindness was too much. His gentle touch and sweet words stole her energy. She'd been trying so hard to keep everything together, but at that moment, she crumbled into his arms, tucked her head under his chin and didn't worry about the tears trekking down her cheeks. And he just wrapped his arms around her and held on tight. She could hear his heart beating, and she pressed a little closer. The soft cotton of his T-shirt felt like her pillowcase, and she could almost fall asleep standing there.

Softly he began whispering into her hair, but she couldn't make out all of his words. “…Please keep Danielle safe…We trust in You…comfort Danielle now… Help us to find this man, and show us where to look… Amen.”

When he stopped praying, he held her for just a little while longer, then finally stepped back, keeping her at arm's length. She was glad he kept his hands wrapped around her shoulders, but not because she was afraid of collapsing again. She was suddenly filled with strength in the very spot where God had bolstered her just that morning, and she sent up another prayer of thanksgiving.

“Let's get a move on,” Nate said. “I'll grab your bike. Can you get the rest of your stuff?”

“I think so.” He turned, but she effectively stopped him with just a gentle brush of her hand on his arm. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” His nod was brief as he excused himself, and he quickly moved to pick up her bike.

He was halfway back to the car by the time Danielle finally got her feet to move. She scurried to pick up the rest of her things and met him back at his car just as he closed the trunk. He opened the passenger's side door for her then walked around the front of the sedan and quickly slid in beside her.

His eyebrows were pulled together, and he looked suddenly very solemn.

“What is it?” she asked after several long moments of silence.

“This is serious.”

“I know.” Her head tilted toward the ditch and the scene of her crash. She knew better than anyone the gravity of the situation.

His eyes followed her closely as he maneuvered them back onto the road and toward the garage. “Who had access to your bike while you were at the gym?”

“I don't know. Everyone, I guess. I locked it in the bike racks right by the front door.”

He strummed his fingers on the steering wheel, eyes focused on the road in front of them. “Do you happen to know if your gym has security cameras?”

She shrugged. “I'm not sure.”

“No problem. I'll call them today and see if they have anything that might be useful for us.”

His body moved almost as if on autopilot as he parked his car by the side of the garage and got out. She hurried
to join him as he stalked toward the door of her living quarters, his face an indecipherable mask. Immediately he jiggled the handle, the lock stuck in place, and he waited for her to open it.

When she did, he said, “Stay here.” He reached to the back of his waistband and pulled his handgun from its place, sweeping through the rooms the way he had the night before. Just a moment later he returned, a slightly lighter look on his face. “It's safe.”

She stepped past him and was halfway through her living room before she realized that he wasn't following her. “Nate?” she said, turning slowly.

“You'd best get some sleep. Your adrenaline is probably already fading, and you'll be asleep shortly. I'll hang out with Gretchen in the lobby. Come get me when you wake up.”

He moved to close the door, but she hurried to stop him. He looked upset with her, but she couldn't go to bed without knowing that they were okay.

“Are you still angry with me?”

He shook his head.

“Please. I can tell you're upset. What is it?”

An emotion flickered across his face. It wasn't anger, but she couldn't easily identify it. His lips pursed to one side, and she took a half step closer.

They were barely two feet apart, and she leaned in just a little closer, seeking out that same strength that he'd shared just minutes earlier in the ditch. He was right. Her body was already shaking from the day's emotional tumult, and she was exhausted.

“Please,” she whispered.

He looked down, then his piercing blue-gray eyes met her gaze. “It's not you. It's me. This is all just… It's more than it's supposed to be.”

“I don't understand.”

His snort was thick with emotion. “That makes two of us.”

She just didn't get it. How had she upset him again? He was still courteous, but there was something heavy about his demeanor. She had to know.

When he tried to turn from her again, she turned with him and stepped closer until she could feel his breath on her face. She put her hands on his shoulders and lifted herself up to her tiptoes. An inch away from his lips, she could sense the tension coursing through his muscles. His arms tightened under her fingers, but he didn't push her away. He didn't move back.

Instead he stepped toward her, closing the gap between them, pressing his mouth to hers and holding her tightly.

His lips were soft and reassuring as he deepened their connection, and she sighed into him, knowing that this was what she'd been longing for all day. She savored every bit of comfort that he offered, wiping away thoughts of the untamed terror of that morning.

As his strong hands turned circles on her back, she thought she'd never felt so safe.

Her eyes cracked open for an instant, and she saw that his eyes were closed, an expression of peace on his face. She leaned closer, relishing in the moment.

Suddenly he pulled back, his features taut and eyes shadowed. “You'd better get some sleep. I'll see you later.” He closed the door on her, and she could hear his heavy footfalls move around the building.

As she crawled into her bed without even changing her clothes, a lump rose to her throat. They could never be. He knew, and she did, too. After this assignment and Goodwill's trial they'd part ways. This case would always
hang over their relationship—well, it wasn't really even a relationship.

And it wasn't likely to change.

N
ate awoke with a start, anger rushing through his veins. Anger at the situation—how could he not know who was after Danielle? Anger at himself—how could he take advantage of her vulnerability, especially with his track record?

He'd woken up in this same chair in the waiting room at Andy's before. The first time, he'd just been tired, grumpy. Now he was downright furious with himself for his actions. But both times he was running on a severe lack of sleep.

He'd gotten up every hour on the hour all night Friday and last night to walk around the property. Checking for a phantom blue SUV had kept him awake and forced him to think about his actions. To analyze the way Danielle felt in his arms and the feel of her lips against his. It had been nearly forty-eight hours since their kiss, but he could still remember every detail.

“Lord, I'm so sorry,” he grumped into his hands that covered his face. “I don't know what got into me. I can't believe I lost control like that. I refuse to treat women like my dad and grandpa did. I can control my actions, and I won't lead Danielle on like I did Georgia. I don't want to hurt her. Help me to serve You and not to fail in this assignment.”

When he finally lifted his head, his temples pounded, and his whiskers rubbed roughly against his palms. He needed a shower and a shave to feel human again. And at least half a gallon of coffee. It just didn't seem very likely at the moment.

But it was Sunday! Danielle would be going to church, and he'd definitely go with her. He couldn't go to church in his current state. Eyeballing his wrinkled jeans and T-shirt, he shook his head. He didn't even need a mirror to know that he was unacceptable.

As he exited the front office, locking the door with the key that Gretchen had given him the evening before, the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon and a brisk wind chilled him slightly.

He hurried to Danielle's door and knocked softly. If she was awake, he didn't want to scare her. If she wasn't, he would knock louder the next time.

Several seconds passed.

He had just lifted his hand to knock again when he heard a small voice on the other side. “Who is it?” Good girl.

“It's just me. Nate.”

The door opened a crack, and Danielle's head poked into the opening, her body completely hidden behind the wood. Her straight brown hair wild from sleep and eyes dazed, she looked like she'd just woken up. And absolutely beautiful.

Nate! Don't even let your mind go down that road.

“How'd you sleep?”

“Fine,” she said around a large yawn.

“Good. I'm going to take one more walk around the property. Then I'm going to go home and get ready for church. What time should I pick you up?”

“Umm…” She closed one eye as though thinking hard about the question. “I guess eight forty-five.”

“Okay—I'll see you then. Call me if you hear or see anything unusual. And don't answer the door for anyone else until I come back.”

She nodded and closed the door. He waited until he heard the deadbolt click into place then quickly jogged around the building's perimeter.

When he was satisfied that she was safe for the time being, he jumped into his car and headed toward his apartment. With his phone on speaker, he called Heather's cell, which went straight to voicemail. “Heather, can you do me a favor and check on any blue Ford Explorers registered to Kirk Banner or Ridley Grant in the state of Colorado? Also, check for any that might belong to family members, even extended family. Call or text as soon as you have anything.”

He hung up just as he pulled into his parking spot.

Jogging up the stairs to his landing, he almost made it inside his apartment before his neighbor from across the hall—the one whose door Danielle had pounded on a couple days before—stepped out. She was a kid, probably no more than twenty-two, but he had a sneaking suspicion that she kept her eye out for him. A lot.

Just now she sized him up with a gaze from head to toe and back, a longing look in her eyes. He cringed at her desperation. He knew he wasn't anything special to look at. Not the scum of the earth or anything, but he certainly wasn't a movie star, especially with his wrinkled clothes, wild hair and overnight beard growth.

“Morning,” he said, nodding in her direction. It never hurt to be polite.

“You, too.” Her smile was wide and revealed a row of slightly crooked teeth.

“See you later.”

She waved a hand that was covered by the sleeve of
her gray sweatshirt. She pursed her lips in an unattractive grimace, and he couldn't help but think about how Danielle looked so cute when she shot him a similar expression.

Ugh. He had to get his mind off Danielle.

Even as he turned his back on the girl and stepped into his home, he could feel her eyes boring a hole into his back. He withheld the urge to let loose a shudder as he clicked the lock into place.

He leaned his back against the door and surveyed his place. It was still just this side of being a rat hole, but somehow it had become his rat hole, and the thought brought a smile to his face. Even if it was temporary, it was just good to be somewhere that he could call his own. A place with real furniture to relax on, not plastic chairs.

He tossed his keys on the end table and headed into the kitchen. He flicked open the freezer and pulled out a bag of ground coffee from where it rested on a bag of frozen peas. He was halfway through pouring water into the coffee maker, when his brain clicked on. Something was definitely off.

He flung the freezer door back open, his gaze settling on the bag of peas that he'd used on Danielle's ankle on Friday. The problem was that he had tossed it into the freezer just before they headed over to the scene of her crash. He'd tossed it on top of his coffee. And he hadn't been home for more than a minute since then.

No way had the two bags been reversed without some help.

The realization sent him scrambling for his gun, which was still tucked into the shoulder holster under his jacket. He took his time moving room to room, checking to see if anything else was out of place. Everything looked okay until he came upon the pile of junk mail coupons on his nightstand. He distinctly remembered that the blue envelope
with information on his apartment had been on the bottom of the stack. Now it was tucked in the middle.

He'd definitely had a visitor.

But who?

He walked to the sliding door that led to the private balcony off of his living room. The “private” part was a bit of a joke. It actually connected to his neighbor's with a half wall of flimsy wood. Anyone could have jumped from one to the other, and if the shuffled footprints in the dirt-covered cement were any indication, they had.

He squatted down and took a closer look at the imprints. They were shuffled enough that he couldn't tell an approximate shoe size or any distinguishing marks about them.

But he knew enough.

Someone thought he was a threat.

 

Danielle settled into a soft chair at First Church of Crescent City, the familiar seat a welcome haven from the unsettling recent events in her life. She closed her eyes amid the hustle and bustle of the sanctuary and said a silent prayer of thankfulness. For her dad and his return to her life. For her protection. For her life in Crescent City, no matter how disrupted it had become.

Even for Nate Andersen.

What she wasn't thankful for were the disturbing feelings that erupted every time he was near.

When she opened her eyes, she expected to see Nate standing in front of her. He'd said he was running back to the car for his bible. But she had a sneaking suspicion that he was checking on something else and definitely waiting for a call from Heather. He'd checked his phone every thirty seconds on the drive into downtown, and he'd been markedly silent during the trip. She'd been lost in her
own thoughts of the previous several days, so she hadn't minded.

When her mind returned to the present and she actually opened her eyes, it wasn't Nate standing before her. It was Ivey.

“Hello!” the other woman greeted her.

“Ivey, so great to see you! I had no idea you go to church here.”

Ivey shrugged her shoulder gently. “I've just started coming with a friend, but she couldn't make it this week.” Her eyes drooped and a bit of the joy from her face disappeared.

“Would you like to join me? I'm also sitting with a friend. He'll be here in a second. But you're more than welcome, as well.”

Ivey's smile returned full blast, and she nodded enthusiastically. “I'd love to. Thanks!” She quickly walked around the edge of the pew and arranged her flowing pink skirt as she sat down next to Danielle. “Are we still planning for a little extra tutoring on Tuesday night?”

“Absolutely. I think I'll do some prep work for the class tomorrow, then I'll be all yours before class on Tuesday. Do you think an extra hour will be enough?”

“Oh, that should be plenty. Thanks again. I really—”

Danielle's head whipped around to see what had caused Ivey to stop talking and look so flabbergasted. Expecting Nate, she was again shocked to see Ridley Grant standing in freshly pressed khakis. He ran his hand over his immaculately styled hair and shot her a smirk.

“Well, well. Ms. Keating. Funny seeing you here.” The way he said it, it didn't sound funny at all. It just made tremors run down her spine. “Mind if I join you ladies?”

“Actually—”

“Great.” Ridley was seated next to her before she could
say that Nate was out at the car and would be right back. He sat so close that when she inhaled, she nearly choked on the cloud of cologne hovering around him. But when she leaned a bit closer to Ivey seeking breathable air, he just leaned closer to her, making her both angry and uncomfortable.

She opened her mouth to tell him that Nate was on his way, but the words that caught the attention of their entire row weren't from her.

“Excuse me. You're in my seat.” The voice was deep and low. Nate's eyes flashed dark gray like the steel in his voice. His broad shoulders filled out the dark blue button-up shirt that had made his eyes look so intense that morning when he picked her up, and he dwarfed Ridley's smaller frame, towering over him as he sat.

Ridley jumped to his feet, looking like he wasn't going to budge. But even standing, Nate had a solid three inches and twenty pounds of muscle on the guy. He didn't stand a chance.

Apparently Ridley thought the same thing, because he quickly ducked his head and mumbled a quick excuse before hightailing it down the center aisle.

Nate watched him go, then turned his gaze back to Danielle. With a small quirk of one of his eyebrows, he asked two questions:
What's he doing next to you? Are you all right?

Fighting the urge to shrink away from his powerful stare, she offered a minimal shrug and a quick nod in response.

He seemed satisfied, so he quickly shook hands with Ivey and then settled into the pew next to Danielle. While he was several inches farther away from her arm than Ridley had been, Nate caused goose bumps to break out on her skin. She rubbed her upper arms quickly, trying to regulate her body's reaction.

“Are you cold?” His breath was warm in her ear, and the quakes that danced down her spine were the opposite of the ones that Ridley had just given her. She didn't like either kind.

“I'm fine. Where's your bible?”

He looked at his empty hands and gave her a guilty grin. “Guess I forgot it. We'll have to share.”

And share they did. After singing several contemporary worship songs and an old hymn, they sat back down and the pastor stood behind the pulpit, teaching about God's power on display when humans are at their weakest. Danielle tried valiantly to pay attention to his words, but Nate's arm resting on the back of her chair around her shoulders was quite distracting.

Of course, it was easier for him to lean in to read along from the bible she held in her hands without his arm in the way. But the feeling of it around her back was almost too intimate. Too comfortable. Like they'd been married for years and there was nothing more natural in the world.

She couldn't remember ever wishing for a church service to hurry up and end, but the sensations Nate evoked made her focus far too much on her reaction to him. Didn't he feel it? Couldn't he tell that just his presence made her stomach swim?

She closed her eyes and bowed her head and tried to block out everything he made her feel. And like a friend's gentle embrace, she fell into silent prayer.

Dear Lord, what am I going to do? I can't have these feelings for Nate. I just can't. Just by being with me, he's in danger, and I hate that. He's trying to protect me, but what happens when the assignment is done? Will I ever really be safe and free from Goodwill? I can't stand to put Nate in danger forever.

And would you please take away this fear that keeps
hovering over me? This knowledge that at any moment Goodwill's man is going to make his move. Keep Nate and I safe until this time is over. And please let me find peace with having to say goodbye to him when this is all over. But maybe I could have both? Both security and Nate? Both safety and love?

Love? Where did that come from?

Her mind went around and around trying to pinpoint the moment that she might have realized that she possibly loved Nate. Affection sure. She certainly felt plenty of that for him. Care. Concern. An electric chemistry. She definitely liked him. A lot. But love?

No way. She'd done what she could to keep her distance. She had to for his sake. It couldn't be love. Could it?

Butterflies took control of her stomach and she wrapped her arm around her middle to quell them.

At that exact moment, Nate's elbow brushed hers as he brought his arm back to his side, drawing her into the present and back to the sermon. Or to be more precise, the benediction. Nate and Ivey stood on either side of her as the pastor prayed and the service ended.