He’d feared that when Gage had called him in, mentioning that he had a concern about Nora. The concern had been itching along his nerve endings since the call. “I was afraid that’s what you wanted to tell me.”
“He cut it off last night. Then before they could start checking, he was gone. Apart from what he did to Nora, this is one scary guy. He went after his wife last night, presumably because she was able to state unequivocally that Nora had never met the man. Anyway, the wife is unconscious, probably comatose, and our rapist and would-be killer is on the loose.”
“What’s the likelihood he could find her here?”
“Damned if I know. I’ve got the guys in Minneapolis scouring everything they’ve got to find out if it was ever mentioned anywhere in public that she came from this town. They don’t think it’s likely. Are you willing to bet on that?”
“Hell, no. She probably had friends who would know, if nothing else.” Jake’s voice became a low, almost savage growl.
“Me, neither. But I don’t want to scare Nora out of her skin unless it becomes necessary.”
Jake leaned back, squashing his fury, trying to sort through more logical thoughts. Getting angry wouldn’t fix a damn thing, and might lead him to foolish action.
“They’re sending us the guy’s description and mug shots. We can get them out. You know strangers stick out around here.”
“Except at the truck stop.” Plenty of strangers passed through there. “I guess we should give Hasty the mug shot.” Hasty owned the truck stop.
“I guess so.” Gage drummed his fingers on the desk. “I hate shadow boxing.”
“I’d have thought you’d done a lot of it in the DEA.”
“That’s why I hate it.” Gage smiled crookedly, the burned side of his face barely moving. Long ago, as a DEA agent, he’d been targeted by a bomb. “There’s no guarantee this perp will have any idea where to look for Nora. There’s also no guarantee that he won’t. And if he could slip his bracelet, he’s no dummy.”
“My main concern is protecting Nora,” Jake said flatly. “To hell with the rest. Living in that house with her father is hell enough, and he’d be no damn good in a crunch.”
“Stashing her could be good, but stashing her would mean telling her why we want to hide her somewhere. Do you think she could handle that?”
“I think she’s a lot stronger than even she realizes. She should be dead. She survived being accused of obstructing justice to protect herself and her rapist. She’s a mess right now, but she’s a survivor.” Jake shook his head. “You’re right, though. I don’t want to scare her needlessly.”
“Then we got us a problem.” Gage sighed and shifted in his chair, a grimace of pain crossing his face. Jake had gathered that the bomb had done more than burn him. It had also injured his back and left him with a permanent limp.
“I think she’s as tough as you are,” Jake said.
The remark surprised Gage. For a moment he froze. Then he shook his head. “I spent a long time getting to sleep at night by tossing down a couple of whiskeys. I doubt that young woman is drinking anything stronger than lemonade.”
“Not in that house.”
“I don’t know how to figure Loftis in this. Does he care for his daughter? If so, how much?”
“Nora seemed to think that he’s going to blame her for the attack, claiming she sinned by finding a normal life for herself.”
Gage swore quietly. “Somebody tell me why men like that never meet an untimely end.”
That almost surprised a laugh from Jake. He wasn’t used to hearing Gage talk that way.
Suddenly Gage leaned forward. “Okay. I’m going to talk to my wife, Emma. I bet she can offer Nora a job at the library, doing something that won’t wear her out too much. Give her a little income. Maybe she can get out of that house then and she won’t be alone, at least at work. In the meantime, we get everyone to put eyes and ears on for strangers. Quietly. And hope to God we’re wasting our time.”
Jake was far from a happy camper when he left a few minutes later, but he was glad that Gage was taking this so seriously. He sat outside in his car for a few minutes, trying to decide just how much of a threat there really was to Nora. This was damn near the back of beyond, hardly a blip on the map. Truckers came through here only because the state highway provided a shortcut to the interstate.
But it was not totally off the radar. Who could guess how many people Nora might have mentioned her hometown to? Or what sort of information about her Cranston Langdon might be able to access?
Nobody. The guy was clearly crazy. He had to have known that attacking his own wife was only going to deepen his troubles. Apparently he either didn’t care, or wasn’t capable of caring. Hell, if people feared consequences, there’d never be a murder.
Sorely troubled, he sat a while longer, watching pedestrians stride along the sidewalks, everything looking so damn normal he couldn’t believe how much had changed by the insertion of one wounded woman into his life.
Nothing looked the same anymore. Nothing. All because of Nora.
And dammit, he had to do something more to keep an eye on her than rely on the loose cordon Gage was instituting. A whole lot more. But just what? How could he insert himself further into her life? She’d warmed to him a bit over the past twenty-four hours, but he doubted she wanted him camped on her doorstep.
And then there was Fred Loftis. He’d have to find a way around that man or be forbidden to set foot on his property.
He paused in midthought, as it struck him that he seemed like an odd choice for Fred to have sent after Nora. They weren’t friends. Far from it. Fred could have asked anyone from his church.
So why the hell send the chief of police? The more Jake thought about it, the more disturbed he was by what had initially seemed to be nothing but a neighbor’s request.
What the hell was Fred Loftis up to? Did he know something about that long-ago night and what Nora had done? What he had done? Had asking Jake been intended to cause more pain?
Or was it Fred’s way of reminding his daughter that she was a sinner?
Damn! He wanted to pound the steering wheel. He wished like hell he could read minds.
But he couldn’t. And he was beginning to have a horrifying feeling that Nora might be tangled in more than one spider’s web.
He had to figure out something. Anything. And soon.
* * *
Nora sent a few text messages to friends back in Minneapolis, assuring them she was okay but was careful to avoid telling them where she had gone. Denver was the closest she had come to telling them her plans when she left, but she imagined none of them suspected she was here. After all, she’d made no secret of where she had come from, and no secret of her problems with her father. She doubted any of them would think she had come home.
She could hardly believe it herself.
