Safe in His Sight (16 page)

He caught the soft gasp and saw her press a hand to her stomach. “What’s wrong?”

Instantly, her face smoothed into the emotionless mask she’d employed with her boss. The same look she’d worn when she’d aimed a gun on the fake cop. “I’m fine.” She reached for the door and he stopped her.

“Julia.” Beneath his fingers, he felt her trembling. When she met his gaze, her lips parted on a hiccup and then she pressed her shaking hands between her knees. That did it. He shoved the key in the ignition and started the car again. “We’ll go.” He pulled out into the street without looking. Someone honked, but he didn’t care. He floored it. “I’m a jackass,” he said, downshifting to stop at the sign on the next corner. “We’re leaving. Just breathe.”

“Mitch. Go back. I’ll manage. It’s just—”

“All the people,” he finished for her. How could he tease her about
not
being a callous shark and then ignore her fear of putting anyone else at risk?
Stupid
. He wanted her to meet his family, to share that side of himself with her.
Too soon.
“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s me,” she said. “I’m being ridiculous. Your mother’s expecting you. Us.”

“You’re shaking.”

“I know.” She deliberately flattened her palms on her thighs. “It’s not all about the stalker, though he does worry me.”

“He should.” Mitch had to agree. Although neither of them said it, they both knew, with the resources he’d exhibited, the Galway family was on the bastard’s radar whether they went to dinner or not.

“Go back,” she said. “I won’t let the past trip me up this time.”

He held his breath, refusing to ask, refusing to make her share something she clearly wanted to keep buried. She had to
want
to share those secrets with him.

“You’re different,” she murmured. “I’m different.” She spoke the words over and over as if reciting a meditation. “Thanks for the valiant effort,” she said, smiling a little. “I’ll tell you all the gory details later and we can have a good laugh at my expense.”

He didn’t think he’d be laughing over a story that had nearly induced a panic attack. “Whenever you’re ready to share, I’ll listen,” he replied. This time when he parked he was behind Stephen’s truck. Maybe his parents would have their hands too full with his brooding brother to worry about the guest he hadn’t warned them about.

He knew she didn’t want to give his family the wrong impression, but he took her hand as they walked up the sidewalk to the porch. She still looked a little pale. “We’ll leave before dessert,” he promised in a whisper.

Mitch wasn’t a bit surprised when the front door flew open before he touched the handle. “You’re almost late,” his youngest sister accused.

“Nice to see you too, Jenny.” He caught her in a tight hug until she smacked at his back to get him to let go.

Her eyes lit on Julia. “Who’s this?”

“Let us in and I’ll introduce you.”

In the muted light of the foyer, he took Julia’s coat and made introductions. First to Jenny, then to his siblings, Megan and Andrew, and their respective spouses and children as everyone trickled in at the commotion near the door. “You remember Stephen,” he said at last. “And these are my parents, Samuel and Myra Galway.”

His parents stepped forward and greeted Julia warmly.

“A pleasure to meet all of you,” Julia said. “Mitch claimed I wouldn’t be any imposition.”

“No, no imposition at all,” Myra said as a smile bloomed across her round face. “Come in, come in.” Myra waved a hand to give them room to walk into the house. She poked Jenny in the shoulder. “Go set another place at the table.”

Her astute gaze landed on Mitch next. “This is an interesting surprise,” she whispered as the rest of his family caught up Julia and led her to the family room.

He silently pleaded with his mother to let it go. She hesitated, then stepped back and tipped her head toward the family room. More than a little concerned, he peeked around the corner, ready to charge to Julia’s rescue. But she showed no signs of the earlier anxiety, her smile open and easy as she answered questions as quickly as they were tossed out.

“You’ll help me with drinks.” His mother tugged him along to the kitchen.

He knew better than to argue. As he passed by, he caught Julia’s eye, sending her an encouraging smile. Fifteen minutes later, when his rowdy family had packed around the dining room table, he was relieved she hadn’t run away screaming yet.

He tried to see it all from her perspective and wanted to cringe. Meals and conversation at her apartment and even his house had been quiet, primarily case related. He’d grown up with this disorderly process that bordered on crazy. He was used to hearty meals and loud voices talking over one another as food was passed and devoured.

They’d quickly learned she was an attorney and her chin had only come up a little, daring them to have an opinion when she told them she was with Marburg.

Although his father had raised a curious eyebrow at that, no one challenged her or asked about the Falk case. Mitch exchanged a look with Stephen and realized they’d been warned. He’d have to thank his brother later for smoothing the way. With every conversational topic and rambling tangent, he learned a bit more about Julia. Not about where she’d come from, but who she’d decided to be now.

“She fits in pretty well,” Stephen said as he helped Mitch carry dishes into the kitchen. “Mom likes her.”

“Mom likes a lot of people,” Mitch replied. When Stephen only gave a noncommittal grunt, Mitch changed the subject. “You haven’t had any trouble at the garage?”

“No.” Stephen scowled. “Should I expect some?”

“Doubtful, but stay alert. The guy hassling her is focused on
her
, but something’s off.” Hearing Julia’s laughter, he leaned over to catch a glimpse of her.

“Your focus, if I had to guess,” Stephen grumbled.

Mitch was about to elbow his brother in the ribs when a thunderous boom sounded, shaking the house. For a split second, they stared at each other and then both of them bolted for the front of the house at the same time. Stephen shot straight for the front door and Mitch took a route through the dining room. His first priority was Julia.

She stood at the window with the rest of his family, staring at a fireball engulfing the hood of his car. He swore when he saw Stephen racing closer to the swelling blaze.

“Call 911!” he ordered. “Mom, take Julia and the others to the basement.” The gun rack was down there and all of the adults knew how to handle the firearms. If the stalker got into the house, he’d have a war on his hands.

Everyone moved at once and Mitch ran back through the kitchen, grabbing the fire extinguisher on the way.

“Give me that one,” his dad snapped.

Mitch obliged. Bursting through the back door, he went for the bigger fire extinguisher his dad kept in the workshop behind the house.

Another explosion sounded as Mitch reached the front of the house. He watched, horrified as Stephen and Samuel were tossed back by the blast. The bed of Stephen’s truck went up fast and came down again in slow motion.

He rushed forward against the fire, focusing his effort on stopping the destruction at Stephen’s truck before it spread in a chain reaction down the street. Behind him, he heard shouts and car engines revving. His family and neighbors were moving cars out of harm’s way. A siren cried from a distance as others came outside to watch the commotion. The crisis was almost over when the first fire truck turned into the street, lights and sirens tearing up the quiet Sunday afternoon.

The firefighters put out the blaze and paramedics checked them all for injuries, taking a few minutes to chat with Mitch, his brothers and their dad before they left.

His dad looked around. “Where did Myra and the girls go?”

“I sent them to the basement,” Mitch replied, thankful they’d stayed there.

Stephen shook his head, his expression grim, while he studied the charred remains of the vehicles. “I’ll call in a tow truck while you deal with that.” He raised his chin toward the police cruiser rolling to a stop at the driveway.

Mitch was about to ask his dad to keep Julia out of it when she stepped out onto the porch. Her eyes wide, she clapped a hand over her mouth as she took in the scene, then she ran straight for him. “Are you hurt?” She looked at Stephen and their dad. “Are any of you hurt?”

“Not a scratch.” Samuel pressed a hand to his hip. “Maybe a bruise or two.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She leveled an accusing glare at Mitch. “I warned you.”

His dad gave him a quizzical glance before shuffling off to hug his wife.

Mitch pulled her aside before Julia said something she might regret. “This isn’t your fault.”

She folded her arms over her chest. “So cars blow up around here after dinner every week?”

“Not every week,” he teased. She wasn’t amused. “You did not cause this.”

“You can’t believe this is unrelated.” She sucked in a breath, her gaze darting over the damaged vehicles. “Your car. Oh, Mitch. Without me, your house, your family would have stayed safe.”

“Hush,” he said, pulling her into a hug and tucking her head to his shoulder. He knew this was the work of the stalker. They were on display out here. “We’re all alive and we’re all going to stay that way.”

Mitch and his dad delivered the initial report to the police officers. The officers split up, one taking names and statements from the Galway family, the other canvassing the neighborhood for any witnesses. Myra served coffee and dessert during the interviews, always hospitable to any guests. It was such a mom thing to do and yet Mitch knew it made Julia feel worse.

By the time they were free to go, the burned vehicles had been hauled away to the forensics lab. Julia fell into a tense silence, her hand linked with his, as they rode in the backseat while Samuel drove them to the garage to pick up loaner cars.

He longed to comfort her, to let her vent every crazy theory brewing in her stormy green eyes. He could see her shoulders sagging under the weight of the misplaced guilt and blame she was carrying.

With a renewed sense of purpose, Mitch silently vowed that, one way or another, they would stop the bastard tearing up her life before he destroyed her.

*

Julia never dreamed she’d consider a nightclub safe haven and yet by name and reputation, the Escape was becoming just that. The knotted muscles at the base of her neck loosened as Mitch drove east toward the river rather than back to his house.

Once they were alone, she’d tried to apologize, but he’d cut her off, refusing the notion that she was to blame. It was more than gracious, it was silly. Hopefully, Grant would set him straight, maybe assign her to someone else or...

She slid a glance at the square jaw of Mitch’s strong profile. She didn’t want anyone else. “When you sent me to the basement with your mom I was pissed,” she confessed. “I wanted to be out there, helping you.”

“I had help. Qualified help,” he pointed out. “It helped me more knowing you were safe, out of his sight.”

“Mmm-hmm. Still, I could’ve looked for that damn orange hat while you did your thing.”

“This wasn’t your fault.”

“So you’ve said.” Countless times.

He parked at the far end of the employee lot and turned off the engine of the boring beige compact sedan Stephen had loaned him.

She climbed out, resigning herself to another Q&A with Grant that likely wouldn’t put them any closer to the stalker. “I hate this.” She leaned against the closed door, staring at Mitch over the roof of the car. “I’m going to call my boss and just relinquish the case. Take a vacation to Siberia or somewhere equally isolated.”

“I think today is a good sign.”

She snorted. “You must be rewriting the definition of ‘good.’”

“I’m not. We must be getting close if he’s pulling stunts like this.”

“Stunts? Mitch, he’s proving he can do anything, get to us anywhere we go. That should scare you.”

“He doesn’t hold all the cards,” Mitch insisted.

She watched him come around the car, his stride easy and his brown eyes full of the sincerity she wanted so desperately to believe in. It couldn’t be real. He just didn’t know her well enough to push her away. Being around her had turned his world on end and it surely wouldn’t be helping his chances for reinstatement. “You must hate this car,” she said, kicking the tire. “You must hate me for losing that classic.”

His hands gripped her shoulders and his mouth claimed hers. Rational thought fizzled. She gripped his jacket and pulled herself closer to the kiss, her body instinctively seeking the comfort and distraction he offered.

He leaned back, his gaze inscrutable as his big hand sleeked down her hair. “I don’t hate you. Don’t say that again. Ever.”

The words brushed her cheek. “Okay,” she whispered. As his body pressed her back to the car, his arousal was obvious. If they were anywhere but here, she’d give in, toss caution aside and drag him to the nearest flat surface. She smoothed her palms over his chest under his jacket. “Am I allowed to say I told you so?”

“That depends.”

Her eyes locked on the tilt at the corner of his mouth. He had such a sexy smirk, full of sinful promises. “Depends on what?” The words came out all breathless and fluttery and she didn’t even care.

“I don’t remember.” He nudged her aside and opened the passenger door. “Get in.”

She grinned, liking this bossy side of him too much. “Isn’t Grant expecting us?”

He pushed her gently into the seat and shut the door. Her heart leaped as he raced around to the driver’s side. “Grant can wait. He has friends on the police force. We don’t know anything new anyway.”

“We know he knows all about you.” Playing devil’s advocate kept her from crawling all over that gorgeous body while he was trying to drive. That kind of move would cause all kinds of problems for both of them—well beyond the obvious traffic violations. “Hurry,” she said.

“I am.” His knuckles turned white on the wheel. “Trust me, I am.”

He swore when he reached his house and realized the remote for the garage door had been blown up with his car. She giggled—an absurd reaction, considering the circumstances.