been through a shock today,” the detective said patiently. “Just to be clear on the details, you said you had a few small incidents recently? Some harassment? Did you report it?”
She’d already written all of this in her statement, but took a breath and responded.
“No. There were a few weird phone calls, that kind of thing. But nothing like this. I thought the calls were a crank.”
“Okay. Would you mind if we took a look at your phone records? We need your permission for that.”
“That’s fine.”
She had nothing to hide.
“Thank you. That should wrap things up. Do you have a place to stay tonight?”
“I’ll work something out.”
The set of the detective’s mouth was grim.
“Considering the circumstances, we should probably put you in protective custody for at least a few nights, until we can track down who planted the explosives. And why.”
“I can’t do that. I’ve lost...everything. But I still have a job I’d like to keep. My administrators are expecting me to run sessions for new teachers and students before classes begin in two weeks. I have to get my lessons in order, send letters to parents...there’s so much to do. I can’t hide away.”
“I think they’d understand, given the situation.”
“No, thanks. I’m sure this was some kind of mistake. No one is after me. They’d have no reason. I don’t want to be in protective custody. I don’t want to be in any...custody.” She gripped her suddenly shaking hands together. “Anyway, how do you know that Luke Berringer didn’t do it? How can you be sure?”
“I can assure you, he’s been cleared as a suspect,” the detective said. He didn’t volunteer more than that.
“Why was he hanging outside my house if he had nothing to do with it?”
“He simply mistook you for someone else. We checked out his credentials and references. He was head of a major software company, and now he’s a professional bodyguard with a notable firm up in Philly,” the detective explained. “He has no criminal record and was there to talk to you about another matter. He recognized what he saw through the window. He acted fast. It might seem funny to say so, but I think it was your lucky day, Miss Grant. If he hadn’t mistaken you, you’d be dead right now.”
Lucky. Right.
“Do you know why he was looking for me? Or the person he thought was me?”
“You’d have to ask him.”
Vanessa frowned, remembering how tall Berringer was, how strong. His hands on her arms had been tight, hard. When they had jumped away from the porch, knocked over by the power of the blast, he’d cushioned her fall with his body. He was solid all over. At the time, she’d been in shock, and thankful. Huddled close to him on the sidewalk, for a moment, his big body enclosed around her, she’d felt safe.
She hadn’t felt safe seconds later, when he’d looked at her through cold, green eyes that were filled with loathing.
Who would loathe her?
“All right. If you’re sure.”
She stood, her skin suddenly crawling with the need to be out of the building. Free.
Simply being in the police station made her anxious. She’d been brought in a few times as a kid when she’d run away from her foster homes. The police were always nice to her, but it didn’t help because she knew they would deliver her back where she didn’t want to go.
It had gotten worse after she was separated from her sister and brother. She hadn’t seen Julie since they were split up as young children. No one wanted to foster or adopt all three of them at once. Eventually, they had all been lost in the system.
Vanessa had never been able to track down her siblings, but she hadn’t given up, ever. She’d even asked the police for help a few times, getting hold of various records to try to find her brother and sister.
Being here was triggering all of the old fears and paranoia she’d had as a child about moving from one home to another. At least until she’d found her new family when she was twelve. If not for them, who knew how she might have ended up? The Grants had adopted her, offered her guidance, stability and a real home. What had happened to Julie and Max? Her heart broke when she thought of them.
“Would you at least let us know where you go? Do you have any family or friends, or will you go to a hotel?”
“There’s no one here,” she said. She wasn’t about to drag her family into this mess.
Her parents had moved from Florida to the north, retiring in Vermont where they were close to other family members. If they knew all of this, they’d be so worried; she had to call them first thing to let them know she was okay, in case they saw a report on the news.
“You have my cell number if you need to contact me. Thank you for everything,” she told the detective with a polite smile as she eyed the exit.
2
LUKE SAT on the steps of the police station entrance, waiting for Nicky to emerge.
Maybe Garrett and the police were right, but Luke had to know for sure. If he was right, he had finally put the past to rest. If the police were right, he had a second chance to make sure that Nicky didn’t take the life of another unsuspecting person. He could make a difference this time.
Then he saw her. She must have left via the side door. Trying to avoid him?
Either way, the police had let her go, so her story had to have held up. He watched her from a distance; she had no idea he was there.
She was still as beautiful as ever. Even with her plain-Jane, no-frills, elementary-school teacher persona, she couldn’t hide her natural beauty. She might actually be more attractive than the glamorous high-roller he’d known six years before. Softer and more vulnerable, she didn’t look dangerous at all. But Luke knew better.
Her chestnut hair was still long and thick, no highlights this time, but the color was the same. Luke remembered what it was like to bury his face in it. What it felt like to wrap it around his fingers as he kissed her. He knew what every inch of Nicky felt like. Seeing her had brought it all back. Arousal coiled down deep in his belly until he reminded himself what was behind the beauty.
Lies were the least of it.
She paced, looking wary and defeated, as well she should be. Apparently, Luke wasn’t the only one after her. In fact, if she was a victim here, the police shouldn’t have let her leave the station.
He made a judgment call and stood from the steps.
“Nicky... I mean, Vanessa,” he called out, wanting to sound less threatening than he had earlier as he closed the space between them.
She pulled her purse up close to her, as if putting it between them would stop him. He’d grant her, if she was faking, she should
