person would have to die for Paulo to live.
Then she realized something. And the sudden glaring insight into her character slugged her in the gut, leaving her breathless, nearly gasping out loud. She stumbled to a chair and dropped into it, staring into space, seeing nothing but the past four years of her life.
Then in crystal clarity she saw how hard Paulo fought, pushing through his fear, battling the odds that were against him, conquering one obstacle after another—with faith and courage—and sheer bulldog stubbornness. She’d often thought how brave he was, been amazed at his willingness to never give up, been brought to her knees at his incredible, unconditional love for the God who created him.
But she had never realized what a coward she’d become.
Until now.
And with that same discerning eye, she now saw what she had to do if she ever wanted to be free of the fear that held her captive.
Oh Lord, tell me no. And yet, how can I say I have faith when I live in fear?
One way or another she was going to have to find that evidence. The evidence that she knew was there, somewhere in de Chastelain’s house. That was why she was here. And, she blew out a breath in disbelief, God had used a sick little boy and a caring doctor, to get her here.
Still stunned at her self-realization and what God was asking her to do, she sat there in a fog of thought trying to decide what she should do first. Where should she start?
The little rush of excitement took her by surprise. Oh, it didn’t overpower the all-consuming fear, but it was there—that feeling she used to get before venturing out on a new case. For the next thirty minutes, she sat in the hospital waiting room, praying, formulating a plan. She was going to catch a murderer. After four years, she was going to complete her case.
De Chastelain.
A short phone call later to Justin Michaels, her former supervisor, informed him of her impending arrival. He’d been blown away to hear that she was actually right here in his city and was definitely anxious to talk to her.
Slipping from the room, she planned to catch a cab to the FBI headquarters branch office downtown. Part of her dreaded returning to that place, yet another part of her was anxious to see if revisiting the location where she’d been shot would enable her to put the nightmare to rest.
Only one way to find out.
“Where are you going?”
Lucas’s voice startled her. She turned, gulped at the effect he had on her blood pressure, ignored it for the umpteenth time, and said, “I’m going to call a cab. I need to go see my former supervisor, Justin Michaels, and figure out if we can pull together a plan to put de Chastelain away for good—before he gets released.”
“I’ll go with you. I’ve got the rental, remember?”
“I can take a cab, and besides, I’d rather you not go.”
“Well, too bad. I’m going. Paulo’s stable and being carefully monitored. I’ve got my cell, and the hospital will call if I’m needed. I’ve got no reason not to go.”
“Lucas, that’s crazy. I don’t even know…I mean…”
“Exactly what are you trying to say, Anna?”
“It could be dangerous and I don’t want you involved if I’m putting myself back into the line of fire.”
THREE
He stilled, keys swinging from his fingers. “‘Back in the line of fire’?”
Anna snapped her mouth shut. Oh, Lord, he’s been my best friend for close to three years. Don’t let him do something stupid like think he has to try to help…or stop me from doing what I need to do. She was well aware the only reason their relationship hadn’t gone beyond friendship was because of his attitude toward God…and the fact that she hadn’t quite put her past to rest. But she also knew the “more than friendship” feelings were right there waiting to burst forth and make themselves known.
Tucking the keys back in his pocket, he placed his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. Brown eyes stared down at her. She swallowed hard as he demanded, “Anna, what do you mean, ‘back in the line of fire’?”
Tears welled, and she blinked them back. “Four years ago, I was…under special protection.” In the hospital recovering from a bullet wound and an emergency hysterectomy while the person who’d shot her got away clean, but she left out those details. “The two FBI agents assigned to guard me…died. They died protecting me, okay? I can’t let anyone else get in the way, put themselves in the path of this killer. Especially not you.”
His eyes glinted at that last part, but he didn’t address it. Instead he asked, “What else is there, Anna? What else were you going to tell me down in the cafeteria before we were interrupted?”
Glancing at her watch, she grimaced. How much should she say? Justin would be waiting for her, but she couldn’t just walk out on Lucas. Spying two chairs down the hall, she nodded toward them, talking as they sat. “I knew de Chastelain was into much more than just tax evasion. I couldn’t leave it alone. So, I decided to give it one more shot. My ‘employer’ was still supposedly in India. His wife was at a party and the kids were in bed. I went down to his office to do one last search, but I heard a noise in the living room. Thinking one of the children might be up, I went to check it out, but as I got closer, I realized it was voices belonging to several men. No one was supposed to be in that house but me, the kids and the live-in housekeeper who slept on the third floor. Now here were these strange men in the living room and I had two kids to protect. Just as I was about to call 911, I heard some grunts, a yell, harsh breathing. Then I heard, ‘Get rid of him.’”
“Oh, Anna…”
“I peeked around the corner to see my employer, obviously not in India, bending over the body holding a knife. He must have flown home that day without letting anyone know. I decided to get out of there. There was no way I could take on all of them and live to tell about it. Backup would take too long. I fled, but must have made some noise because I heard someone coming. The closest room was his office. I slipped in and hid under the desk.”
Lucas shut his eyes as though he couldn’t bear the picture she was painting. “When I scrambled under the desk, I heard something. A buzzing noise. It was coming from a little hidden drawer up under the far corner of the desk. I pulled it open and found a BlackBerry. I just knew that this was the evidence we’d been looking for. There was an e-mail waiting to be read—the buzzing sound I’d heard—so I clicked on it. It was asking if the ‘deed had been done.’ I assumed the ‘deed’ was the dead body I’d just seen. Anyway, I read enough to know that this could put the man away for a good long time, palmed the memory card, shoved the device back into the drawer and caught my breath. Then the door opened.”
Now Lucas looked a little mad. “I can’t believe you haven’t told me this during the three years we’ve known each other. What happened?”
Dropping her head to her hands, she muttered through her fingers, “I tried to forget it, Lucas.” Looking up, she added, “And it’s not like I didn’t want to tell you. I just didn’t want to relive it. I haven’t talked about it in four years. The only person I’ve had contact with is Justin. And it’s not like you’ve told
