Vanishing Act (10 page)

He was trying to distract her. She could read it on his face.

“Nice try Special Agent Andersen.” She reached out to him as though a physical connection might make him tell her the whole truth. “Please. I need to know. Is that why someone ran me off the road today?”

“It's possible that the two are related.”

“Then I have a right to know.”

He nodded, lowering himself to the floor and leaning his back against the base of the oversized chair. “We have a mole inside Goodwill's organization. That mole overhead a conversation… Wait. Let me back up. We've been looking for you for a year and half. When you sped out of that alley, we didn't have time to chase after you. Our concern obviously was saving your dad's life and arresting the man who shot him.” He adjusted his seat, looking at the bare wall on the other side of the room. “We knew we had to find you, but you'd disappeared. We couldn't find any trace of you. You've done a good job of hiding. No pay checks. No credit cards. No housing applications. Nothing we could track.”

She warmed at his compliment—of sorts. “Thanks. When I left Portland, I tried two other towns, but I couldn't find a place to stay long-term that didn't require a credit check. Andy literally rescued me by giving me a job and place to live. He takes out my taxes for me and pays me in cash. And he doesn't ask a lot of questions.”

Nate smiled at that. “The mole wasn't able to get word on where you were. But Goodwill's organization was looking for you, too. Then, last week, we got word that a man Goodwill hired to find you had tracked you here. I came out here as soon as we got the word.”

“And this man that tracked me down?”

“He's here, too.”

She swallowed, her throat parched, the empty cup in her hand useless. “He's looking for me.” It wasn't a question. She already knew the answer.

“Yes.”

“What does he want with me? You already said you have everything you need to close your case against Goodwill.” When Nate didn't move to answer, she offered her best
guess. “Is he going to hold me ransom so that my father won't testify?” He looked surprised at her blunt statement. “Did you forget that I've already been kidnapped and ransomed by Goodwill's men once?”

She'd buried that experience along with the name Nora James, but owning the name meant owning the memory, too. So she ignored the chill that shook her from head to toe.

“No. I didn't forget.” His hand shot through his hair, and his nose wrinkled.

“What if this guy fails? What if he doesn't get me? What's he supposed to do?”

“It doesn't matter. Once you're safe, your father can testify without having to worry about you.”

He was dodging her questions again. “It does matter. It matters to me.”

Nate sighed and rested his elbow on one bent knee. “Once we get you to the safe house, you and your dad will be protected. That's what's important. We'll protect you, and we won't let anyone hurt you or your father.”

The truth lingered under his words, camouflaged by his promises and indirect answers. She squinted at him, playing his words over in her mind. What was he hiding?

“So what you're not saying is that when I disappear—when I go with you to the safe house—and Goodwill's guy can't find me—he's going to go after my dad to keep him from testifying?”

N
ate's eyes darkened and a muscle in his jaw jumped. “Yes. But he's protected. Nothing is going to happen to him. He's safe.”

“But how do you know?” Danielle asked, dread seeping from every pore.

He shook his head. “Portland is our turf. My team and I have it under control.”

Her stomach lurched. She'd already lost her father once. She'd failed to save him, and she couldn't go through that again. Not when it was within her power to keep her father safe by focusing Goodwill's attention on her. She couldn't handle losing him again.

“I can't go. I'm sorry.” Her lip quivered, and she bit it in an attempt to keep her emotions under control.

“What are you talking about? This isn't a negotiation.” The tone of his voice was hard, immovable.

“I'm sorry. I won't exchange my life for my father's. He risked his for mine, and I won't put him in danger again.”

Was that pain crossing Nate's face? He looked away, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he rubbed his palm over his already mussed hair. Finally he shook his head.
“You don't have a say in whether you go back to Portland or not. You're going. Period. End of story.”

“Oh, Nate. Don't you see? As long as I'm out in the open, the man looking for me isn't after my dad.” She implored him with her eyes. “We have to find this guy before he finds me or my dad. You and I have to do this. It's the only way we can keep my dad safe.”

“But the FBI will keep him safe in Portland,” Nate said, an underlying growl making his words more intense.

She hated her next move, but she was out of options. Nate wasn't going to give in, and she couldn't, either. There was no way she could live with the guilt of losing her father a second time when she had the power to protect him.

Keeping her tone as even as she could, she looked him in the face. “If you try to force me to leave Crescent City, I'm going to run away and leave enough clues that Goodwill's guy will know exactly where to go to follow me—away from my father.”

“But that's blackmail.”

“Yes it is. And I'm sorry.”

“And what if you're found? You could be seriously injured or killed.”

A tiny smile lifted her lips. “So wouldn't it be better if you and I look for this guy together? You can make sure that if he does find me, you guys can pick him up first. Isn't that a much better plan than me running off and maybe getting myself killed?”

He hung his head and closed his eyes.

She had him.

 

Nate rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, hoping the pressure would start to ease the pounding at his temples. Danielle—Nora—whatever she called herself, was
going to get herself killed, and it was going to be on his conscience.

But she had him backed into a corner.

Resting his chin on his chest, he barely heard her stand. “May I use your restroom?”

He couldn't even find his voice to respond, just pointed at the door next to the bedroom. Her feet shuffled unevenly across the carpet. His head snapped up at her uneven steps, and he caught her last limping movement before she disappeared behind the closed the door.

During their twenty-minute argument, he'd somehow managed to forget that she'd been run off the road and chased through the woods. Undoubtedly, this revelation of Danielle's true identity added a whole new level of danger to that situation. She was probably injured and definitely in trouble.

And somehow she was the first person he'd met in Crescent City. It wasn't a coincidence. Their paths had crossed for a reason. There had been a plan in place for Nate to protect Danielle from the beginning. And he intended to keep her safe. Regardless if she cooperated.

“Lord, save us both from our foolishness,” he muttered, pushing himself to his feet. Water ran in the sink on the other side of the closed door as he headed into the kitchen. He needed coffee. Maybe the caffeine would help his head feel more normal.

He'd just finished setting up the coffee maker, when Danielle hobbled into the living room, heading for the couch.

“Which leg hurts?” he called, up to his elbow in the pit of his freezer, looking for a bag of vegetables.

She swallowed quickly. “They both do.”

That brought a small chuckle. “Fair enough. Does one area hurt worse than the others?”

“My right ankle. I think I twisted it when I fell in the woods.” Her eyes darted around the room, anywhere but at him, as he returned to stand before her.

“Let me take a look.”

He knelt so he was practically sitting on his feet and slipped his hands around her right shoe. She winced slightly as he gently tugged. It didn't budge, so he loosened the laces and pulled again. The shoe barely moved. Her foot was probably pretty swollen. On his third try it popped off, and Danielle sighed softly, leaning back into the flimsy sofa cushions.

But when he gently grabbed the hem of the leg of her athletic pants, her entire body suddenly tensed.

“Does that hurt?”

She didn't say anything for a moment, as she cringed. “A little.”

He looked up to meet her hooded gaze as he rolled her pant leg up several times. Danielle offered him a brave smile, and he returned a strong grin as he plopped the frozen peas on her ankle. Her eyes shot open and she yelped, kicking her left leg and catching his thigh.

He grinned, not offering any apologies.

Forehead wrinkled and hands clasped in her lap, she asked, “Are you angry with me?”

“Yes.”

“I'm sorry.”

Standing and putting his hands on his hips, he surveyed his case. She didn't look like much with a rip in her pants, a leaf in her hair, and two very different-colored eyes beneath fair lashes. But those eyes pleaded with him to understand.

And he did. To a point.

He felt for her, thinking that her dad had been dead for over a year. She'd lost all that time with him, and she hadn't
known it until today. He wasn't going to change her mind with the logic of safety. Hers was an emotional reaction. And he couldn't afford to lose track of her if she ran off. It would be safer for her and Parker if he stuck with her—and did everything in his power to find the Shadow before he made his move.

“I know you are.” He squinted at her one more time, then nodded. “I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me until we find Goodwill's man. Got it? Every minute, I want to know where you are.”

She nodded, a tiny smile tugging at one corner of her mouth.

“So tell me everything you remember about what happened this morning.”

She looked down at her ankle as though she was carefully studying the bag of peas resting there. When she lifted her eyes to meet his gaze, fear and trepidation had returned. “As I mentioned before, I had a flat tire this morning, and I really needed to stretch my legs. I needed to get out of the house. I was hurting all over from tossing and turning last night and I just wanted to get into the pool. I thought some exercise would help me relax and forget that there was someone in my house last night.”

“What happened at the gym?”

She looked up at the ceiling as though trying to remember the details. “When I got there I went to the locker room then straight to the pool. I was only about halfway through my laps when someone jumped into my lane. It was Kirk.”

“From class?”

“Same guy. He followed me when I got out of the pool.”

The hairs on Nate's neck stood on end, and all of his senses jumped into overdrive. “Did he hurt you?” If he
did, he was going to get a late-night visit from a very angry FBI agent. Nate wasn't going to stand by while some creep followed Danielle around. Even if he wasn't remotely convinced that Kirk was really the one he should be concerned about.

She laughed lightly, the sound a salve to his crackling nerves. “No—not at all. He just pestered me for some extra help in class. He seemed pretty desperate for some one-on-one time, but then said he isn't planning on coming to class on Tuesday. Ugh! I was so mad. I almost pushed him in the pool!”

Nate didn't bother trying to stop the laugh that burst out as Danielle's slender arms crossed over her chest and she huffed a lock of brown hair off her forehead, turning her face away from him. “Well, I almost did,” she continued, as though his laugh implied that he didn't believe her.

“I'm sure you would have.”

“I should have.” She glanced down at him out of the corner of her eye, and he realized that he was still seated on the floor with her injured ankle resting lightly on his knee, but he didn't make a move to shift positions.

“So what happened after your run-in with Kirk? Did you see him again?”

“No. I just went back to the locker room, grabbed my bag and got on my bike to head back to the garage—the garage! Gretchen is going to be so worried! I have to call her.”

Nate jumped to his feet and grabbed his cell phone, tossing it in her direction. She quickly dialed the number as he walked back into the living room.

When Danielle hung up, she looked much less panicked.

“Everything okay at the garage?” Nate asked.

“Yes. I told Gretchen I won't be coming in today. She's going to cover for me.”

“Good. Now back to this morning—did you recognize anyone else at the gym?”

“Hmm…” She closed her eyes in deep thought. “Oh! Yes, of course. I ran into Ivey, too, before and after my swim. She was just doing the cross trainer or something. And Ridley literally ran into me in the hall.” She paused. “Anyway, when I got onto my bike, I didn't think anything was wrong, but then I got going down that hill on Beeker Street, and I tried my brakes. They wouldn't work.”

“At all?”

She shook her head, eyebrows tugged together. “Not at all. I looked down as quick as I could—considering that I was practically flying down the hill—and it looked like the brake wire had been cut. And then I noticed that I was being followed by a blue Ford Explorer.”

“Did you get a license plate?” He found himself leaning forward, his elbows on his knees as he listened to her story.

She shook her head again. “It all happened so fast. One minute I was just pedaling home and the next I had no control over my bike. Even my handle bars felt loose. The next thing I knew I was making the decision to crash in the road or take the fall into the ditch.” Her voice hitched as she recounted the terrifying incident. “The Explorer was on my tail and then pulling along beside me. I didn't have a choice, so I just cranked the handle bars into the ditch. Suddenly I was on my back with the wind completely knocked out of me.

“But when I tried to get up, the Explorer came back and I could see the jeans of someone standing on the road above me. I'm pretty sure that's who chased me through the woods.”

Her breathing had quickened as she told the story, and fear pooled in her eyes once again. Nate reached out and grabbed her hand, holding it firmly in his steady grip. “Did you ever see the guy's face? Or any distinguishing features?”

“No.”

“Did he ever call after you?”

“No. I don't think so.”

Nate sorted that out in his mind. If Danielle's pursuer had meant no harm, he would have called to her, tried to get her attention. No, the man chasing her had definitely been after her in the worst sense of the word. But was it the Shadow trying to make his move? Would he be so reckless? Or was someone else pursuing her, too?

“Well, like I said, you and I need to stick close together. I'll do anything I can to protect you, but if I'm not with you, I can't keep you safe. I'll sleep in my car outside your apartment.”

“Don't be ridiculous. We can set up an air mattress in the office. There's no need for you to sleep in your car.”

“We'll just share meals and check in together. It won't be much different than now…except you'll spend every minute of the day with me.”

“Fine. But if we're going to be sharing all of these meals, are you going to cook for me?” she teased.

He smiled. “Sure.”

“Just as long as you aren't going to cook up these peas and make me eat them.” She laughed as she wiggled her toes, sending the bag of melting vegetables bouncing.

“Not for lunch, but I won't make any promises about dinner.”

 

After lunch, Nate drove them to the scene of Danielle's crash. She couldn't help the way her eyes darted
everywhere, looking for any sign of the blue SUV. But there was no indication that there had even been a car there.

There were, however, plenty of signs of her wreck. Her swimsuit and gray gym bag were just where they had fallen during her tumble. The two silver pieces that had once made up her cell phone lay next to her clump of a towel. Black flip-flops were on opposite ends of the debris, and smack in the middle was her bicycle—the front wheel irreparably damaged.

Just looking at the scene brought tears to her eyes. How had she ever escaped from that mess?

She stepped out of the car and walked around to the front of it, meeting Nate there. He slipped his arm around her waist, and she leaned into his shoulder. He seemed to just know that she needed to be held at that moment, and she took comfort in his solidity.

“Well, shall we go take a closer look?” he finally said after several moments of silence.

She inhaled deeply through her nose. He smelled like earth and coffee and comfort. “Okay.”

Telling herself that she didn't want to trip on her sore ankle, she didn't let go of his hand as they stumbled into the ditch, but she had a sneaking suspicion that she liked holding his hand for a completely different reason. He felt like a lock that would never be broken. Like brakes that would never fail. Like safety.

Even if she couldn't keep the feeling in her life for the long-term, at this moment, it felt wonderful to feel safe.

When they reached the flat bottom of the ditch, Danielle lost her excuse for clinging to him, so she grudgingly let him wander in the direction of her bike. As he squatted to get a closer look, his jeans pulled tightly against his thigh and he rested an elbow on his knee. With his other hand he picked up the black rubber tubing of the bike's brake wire.
She couldn't take her eyes off the way he moved with such power and purpose.