Bridal Reconnaissance (6 page)

“It will,” Evan responded coldly.

“Don’t see how.” The man’s thin lips twisted into a parody of a grin.

“You’re getting out in a couple of days.”

“Yeah.”

“And when you do, you’re leaving town.”

“I don’t know about that.” The man leaned back and drummed his fingers on the Formica surface in front of him.

In a practiced imperceptible gesture, Evan dragged in a deep breath of stale air as he sought his calm center. He would not lose control. “Why not? Is something keeping you in this town?”

“Besides parole, you mean?”

“Yes, because you know parole can be arranged in another city, another state even.”

“And you have the connections to know this?” The seeing eye stared intently at Evan.

Evan lifted a shoulder and let it drop in feigned nonchalance, adopting the prisoner’s casual attitude. “Yes.”

“So you’re a powerful man?” In a challenging gesture a pale eyebrow lifted above the blind eye.

“Yes.”

The man laughed. “And you’re wasting your time with a prisoner who doesn’t even know who you are.”

“I think you do know who I am. And I’m here because you won’t be a prisoner much longer.”

“You think I am a threat to someone when I get out?” The twisted grin widened.

“Do I?”

“If you’re so powerful, you must be smart, too. Smart enough to know threatening someone could revoke my parole. I would never risk that.”

“Not even to settle old scores?”

“Settle old scores? Not even.” The scarred lid closed over the blind eye in a wink.

Feeling a surge of anger at the animal’s antics, Evan leaned closer, the vinyl creaking beneath his new tense position on the chair. “And now I need you to understand something.”

Weering’s grin slid into a smirk. “What’s that?”

Although bile rose in his throat, Evan forced it down so he could get the words out. “You and I are more alike than you think.”

“Really? This is fascinating.” The snide tone implied otherwise.

Evan leaned closer yet, so his face was mere inches from the fingerprint-smeared glass. A glance to his side confirmed a visitor pressing her hand against a prisoner’s on the other side. “Oh, there are differences. You think you’re above the law. I am.”

The smirk spread. “I’ve served my time, man, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not the one having delusions.”

“No delusion. Fact.” Evan gritted his teeth, enamel gnashing against enamel. “If someone I care about is threatened, the law won’t stop me from protecting her. Nothing will.”

“What happened six years ago then?”

His stomach tensed as if he’d taken a roundhouse kick. “I didn’t know protection was necessary. Now I do.”

Weering lifted a hand in a placating gesture. “Not from me.”

“I hope not.” Evan waited a moment, then eased back a few inches from the glass. “I called your parents.”

Weering’s raised hand trembled, and he dropped it into his lap out of Evan’s sight. “You what? They’re not even in the country. You found them?”

“It was easy. Big spenders leave a trail. They spent a lot on your lawyers, too. Even spent some money to guarantee you’d be part of the early-release program. I traced some of their political contributions.”

For a moment, William seemed unsettled, but then his mask of indifference returned. “So? Parents getting their only child out early, what’s wrong with that?”

Evan laughed out his derision. “Nothing, if they were loving parents. But they’re not. In fact, they seem to fear you. Odd that they left the country just prior to your release…”

Because of that—and the fearful tone of Mrs. Weering’s voice—Evan was tempted to whisk Amanda and Christopher from the country, too. If this man was so evil his own parents feared him…

Evan had failed Amanda before. He hadn’t protected her from this madman once. Although he’d give his life if necessary, would it be enough to keep her safe?

“So? My parents don’t love me. They just stick by me out of duty.” He grated the words into the phone.

Evan narrowed his eyes in anticipation of a wrong move from the prisoner. He’d found the switch to turn off the man’s nonchalance. “Or blackmail.” Evan figured Weering had something on his parents, something that allowed him to control them even though they feared him.

“Some parents don’t love their children, whether they had them or adopted them,” Weering continued. “Children are a status symbol and sometimes worse. You know that.”

Evan’s muscles tensed as he sat poised for the man’s counterattack. “Do I?”

“And earlier when you said we’re similar, there was something you forgot to mention.” The smirk slid back into place now, but the slight flush on the pale skin suggested his loss of control.

“What?”

“We’ve got the same kind of genes. So maybe you shouldn’t worry about protecting your wife and kid from me, but from yourself!”

Evan’s control almost slipped from the chain he’d padlocked around it. In his mind he could see himself vaulting out of the chair and through the glass barrier. He’d broken bricks with his bare hands. What challenge would shatterproof glass pose?

None. The challenge was in keeping his temper tethered. Especially now, since he was aware of those genes.

How in the hell did the man know about his father—something so few others knew? Evan managed
a careless shrug. “I thought you didn’t know who I was?”

Weering shook his head, disappointment stealing his smirk away. “Who said I did?”

“And all this time you’ve known who Amanda is, but you’ve never told anyone. Kept her identification as a trophy, did you?”

The prisoner shrugged his shoulders. “I think we’ve said all there is to say. You’ve made your threats. We’re through.” He started to lift the receiver from his ear.

“No!”

The seeing eye widened, as the man evidently anticipated an outburst and relished it.

Evan forced a grin. “I need to clarify what I said earlier. And since you really know more about me than you admitted at first, you’ll know it’s true. I won’t just protect what’s mine. I’ll take care of whoever’s threatening them. I’ll eliminate that threat.”

The convict snorted. “By using the law. So you’re rich. You have connections with politicians and cops.”

“Yes, I do. But I wouldn’t rely on my friends. I’d take care of the problem with my own hands.” On that last note, he replaced the receiver, severing the connection.

Weering’s mouth moved as if he were laughing, but the soundproof glass spared Evan from listening to the sick notes of a madman’s laughter.

A
MANDA HEFTED ANOTHER
box through the cargo doors of her van, settling the weighted-down cardboard onto the rusted floor. A glance over her shoul
der confirmed that the silver SUV was still parked across the street. The man behind the wheel didn’t even pretend that he wasn’t watching her. She didn’t know him, but she knew who had sent him.

Her
husband.

Could it be true?

When she straightened away from the van, the chilly spring wind whipped around the open doors and stole her breath. Just as he’d stolen her breath last night. When she’d fainted into his arms.

Heat rushed up, chasing the windburn away to leave another kind of burn. Embarrassment. Had she really fallen into his arms like some silent movie starlet?

The headache. Ever since the attack, she’d fallen victim to debilitating migraines. She’d had one before seeing that ring. Her fainting spell had had nothing to do with the glittering diamond.

When she’d awakened on the couch, she had almost convinced herself that she’d dreamed the whole thing, until he had returned to press a cold cloth against her forehead. He’d knelt beside her, and for once she’d recognized the emotion in his dark eyes. Concern. For her.

That had staggered her as much as the ring, which had disappeared inside his silk shirt to nestle against his muscular chest. But he hadn’t retightened the tie, so the thin chain gleamed in the lamplight as a reminder of what she’d seen—what had graced her hand. A perfect fit.

Somehow she figured Cinderella would have preferred that magnificent diamond over the shoe. But she wasn’t Cinderella, and almost six years ago, she’d
learned fairy tales bore no resemblance to reality except for the element of evil. Evil was the only reality Amanda knew. And she doubted it would ever be conquered.

All she could do was run.

“Amanda, let me help you.” The words he’d whispered as he’d knelt beside her last night washed over her again. “Let me help you.”

Panic had crashed over her next, like the foam following a lapping wave. Frenzied. “Please, leave. Leave before Christopher wakes up. I can’t deal with this now…with you. Please, just go.”

She had been stunned again when he’d complied, pausing only at the door to glance back at her with an unreadable expression in those dark eyes. About ten minutes later a locksmith had arrived to replace her broken chain with a new dead bolt.

Evan Quade had left twice when she’d pleaded. She didn’t count on her luck holding out a third time. When she stepped outside with another box, she automatically glanced to her shadow across the road. And she saw another shadow, a tall dark one.

Evan.

Behind the SUV, a racy red sports car idled, puffs of exhaust hanging in the cold air. Suspended. Like her. The weight of the box dragged at her arms and a tingling pain shot from her wrists to an unreachable pressure point between her shoulder blades.

A curse drifted across to her before the scrape of his shoes on the asphalt as he rushed across the street and wrestled the box from her arms. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

She swallowed a hysterical giggle. “Why didn’t you have your friend help me then?”

“Royce?” He chuckled, the deep rumble warming her. “He’s no gentleman.”

“I gathered that.” She arched, but the stubborn ache remained.

“He was busy on the phone. And once you had everything packed up, what would stop you from leaving?”

“What will stop me now?”

“I will.”

She shivered despite the warmth of her Thinsulate jacket. She’d like to retort,
him and what army,
but she suspected he wouldn’t need an army. And if he did, he could summon one with no problem.

“Why? What do you want from me?”

Using only one arm, he held the weighty box with which she’d struggled while he brushed his black hair back with his other hand. “Right now all I want is to help you.”

At the risk of sounding like her son, she wanted to ask why again. But although she didn’t remember Evan Quade, she’d already learned something about him. He was a man of responsibility. He might not be in love with her anymore, but having her wear his ring once upon a time made him feel responsible for her.

She swallowed hard, realizing she’d almost accepted what he’d told her as fact. If he were her husband, that would make him Christopher’s father. And what about Christopher? What did this man feel for his son?

A gasp slipped through her lips. She had never con
sidered Christopher as anyone’s but hers. Could she share him? Was that what Evan Quade wanted? Or would he want it all? His strong personality definitely demanded all or nothing.

“I can handle this.” Maybe if she said the words enough times, she would begin to believe them. Right now she had serious doubts.

“How? By running?” he asked archly.

“Yes.” She lifted her chin, feeling no shame in her cowardice. She’d lost the woman who’d bravely fought off her assailant. She’d lost that woman just as she’d lost this man. And she harbored no hope of recovering either.

He chuckled. “I don’t believe in running. I never did. The best way to deal with things is to face them head-on. That’s why I visited the prison this morning.”

Fear whipped through her at the memory of her one visit there. Voice trembling, she asked, “You saw him?”

He nodded, his hard mouth pressed into a grim line.

“And?”

“You’re in danger.”

Although she had known it already, hearing him say it stole away that glimmer of hope she had held on to despite the odds. “Don’t you see? That’s why I have to leave. And you can’t stop me!”

She jerked the box from his arm and stomped over to the van to slide it next to the others.

“I could if I wanted to. We both know that. I have certain legal rights I’ve been denied, Amanda.”

She shivered more over the coldness of his words
than the chilled wind. She straightened up and blinked back tears before she turned to face him again.

His handsome face bore no expression, the dark eyes shadowed with secrets only he knew. “I have people working on finding his cell mate and confirming the threats. Give me some time, Amanda.”

“And if I don’t?”

He shook his head and she could read the frustration now.

“Damn, you’re still so stubborn…”

Stubbornness was a sign of strength, so maybe she still had some left. But desperation brought forth the lie. “Christopher has an all-day field trip today. When he gets home, I’m leaving.”

“You’re only giving me until late afternoon?”

Before she could reply, a shout from the SUV drew Evan’s attention.

“Evan! I got a lead! Come on!”

He turned back. “I’m going to check this out. If you need me…”

He dug into the pocket of his overcoat and withdrew a gold-embossed business card. “My cell phone number’s on there. And I’m staying at the River City Plaza.”

She widened her eyes over the expense of that, but then she shifted her gaze to the idling sports car. He had money, influence…all the vices her attacker had possessed, in her opinion.

With a trembling hand she took the card and shoved it into her pocket. Maybe he
could
help her, but she wasn’t going to risk sticking around to find out. “Go ahead. Follow your lead.”

He nodded and jaunted across the road to the sports car.

She waited until both vehicles had pulled away from the curb and disappeared around the corner before she slammed the cargo doors. Then she slid behind the wheel.

She’d packed all she had time and room to take with her. Now she had to pick up Christopher from school. She’d allowed him one last day, knowing he was safe while the convict still resided behind bars where he belonged.