Vanishing Act (4 page)

Taking another deep breath and forcing a smile, she greeted them. “Hello. My name is Danielle. I'll be filling in for Andy for a couple of weeks while he's out of town.” More friendly nods, but no one spoke. “Andy said that you were discussing spark plugs. Can anyone tell me what you've talked about so far?”

A hand raised in the back row of tables, and she stepped to the side to get a better view of its owner. She pointed
to him and opened her mouth to ask his name but stopped when her heart jumped.

“Mr. Andersen? What are you doing here?”

His smile showed off his perfectly straight teeth. “Call me Nate. Just enrolled today. Figured I'd better learn a little something about cars.” He chuckled, and Danielle couldn't help the genuine smile that spread across her face at the contagious sound.

He had such a pleasant face, strong yet kind, tanned and handsome. And his eyes sparkled in the fluorescent lights.

Suddenly another student cleared his throat loudly, ripping her from her wayward thoughts. She had no right looking at a man that way. She had nothing to offer him. Nothing but constant fear from a past that always haunted her.

“Nate, I assume that you're not going to answer my question.”

He nodded. “That's right. Just wanted to see if I could borrow a book. The bookstore had to order me one.”

Another hand raised as well. This from a pretty blond woman sitting in the second row. “Me too. I just added this class yesterday, and the bookstore said it could be a couple of weeks before my book comes in.”

“I'm sure we have some books here. Anyone else?” Another young man raised his hand, as Danielle opened the metal cabinet behind the desk. After passing out the books, she opened the spiral-bound grade book that Andy had told her was in the top left desk drawer. “Can you give me your names?”

The woman, probably in her late thirties, spoke up first. “Ivey Platt. With two T's.”

The young man announced that his name was Kirk Banner.

“All right. Let's get started.” She flipped open her book and asked a twentysomething with brown hair, “What has Andy covered so far with you?”

“The name's Ridley Grant.” He smiled and winked at her then prattled on about how much they'd covered in the first few classes.

The rest of the class seemed to pass in a blur. Danielle answered questions and covered the sections that Andy had outlined and left for her. The last thirty minutes were dedicated to hands-on learning, and the group gathered around Danielle as she showed them how to inspect and install new spark plugs. They looked at the old ones and discussed why they were no longer good. Several students—especially Nate—interacted in the discussion, and by the end of the two-hour class, Danielle felt surprisingly calm. Her hands were steady and her voice didn't shake at all.

“Thanks, guys. Have a great night,” she said, dismissing them just a couple minutes early. Books slammed closed and stools scraped on the floor as the majority of the students made their way toward the door.

Busy packing up her own bag and locking up the cabinets, Danielle didn't notice the approach of a couple of her students.

“Danielle?” asked a soft soprano.

She jumped and sucked in a breath so fast that she had to cough several times to clear her throat. “Ivey, you scared me.” She finally laughed.

The woman's blue eyes crinkled at the corners and turned softer. “Sorry. I just had a quick question. Kirk can go first.” She nodded toward the younger man standing beside her.

Kirk Banner was a handsome, if very rumpled, man probably older than most of his cohorts but trying to look like them. His shaggy blond hair was in complete disarray,
and his brown eyes were hard, almost angry. He shrugged boney shoulders that stretched the fabric of his too-tight red T-shirt. “I was just wondering how the grading is going to work.”

His tone was nonchalant, but Danielle could hear a flicker of antagonism somewhere below the surface.

“Well, of course Andy will give all the final grades. But I'll be reporting to him on the assignments that are completed and the participation of each student in class.”

“Cool.” He shrugged again and sauntered away.

Through squinted eyes Danielle watched him leave, hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders hunched, and head thrown to the side in a cocky swagger. She couldn't put her finger on any one reason, but he made her uncomfortable. She made a mental note not to be alone with him.

As she turned back to Ivey, she spied one other student in the back of the room still gathering his book. Nate's smile was magnetic, and she found herself not at all afraid of maintaining eye contact with him. His smile reached into his eyes, kind and reassuring.
Good job tonight,
he mouthed.

Her pulse skittered and shivers ran down her arms.

How could one little compliment send her twittering like it did?

He nodded and turned to leave. “Oh, Mr. Andersen. Will you wait a moment please?” He nodded again, but didn't move to join her and Ivey. As Danielle turned back to Ivey, the older woman was rearranging her face into the same friendly smile.

“Danielle, do you think I'm too far behind to catch up in this class?” Ivey's perfect eyebrows pinched together, and her smile disappeared. “I've missed so much, but I just really want to get a better understanding of my car.” Her
face fell slightly before she managed a quick half smile. “My husband used to take care of all of the car stuff. But he…well, he left me and the kids a couple months back.”

Danielle frowned slightly. Ivey was behind the rest of the class, but how could she turn down a woman so obviously hurting. “Well, you are a bit behind. But I could help you get caught up. Andy's shop has been a little slow this week. Why don't you stop by the garage tomorrow afternoon and we can look over the previous material?”

“Oh, thank you! That would be wonderful.” She smiled brightly again, grabbed her purse and left the room.

Nate stood by the table in the back of the room, leaning his hip against it, muscular arms crossed over his chest. “Have you ever taught before?”

“Nope. First time.”

He picked up his borrowed book. They walked toward the door and down the short hallway toward the parking lot. He opened the door for her to exit in front of him, and she couldn't help returning his grin.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Oh!” Had she really forgotten that she needed to talk with him about his car? “I found the part for your car this afternoon. They had it at a warehouse just a couple hours away, so it got here faster than I thought. I have a light load at the shop, so I should have it done for you tomorrow morning. Come by any time after noon.”

“Thanks. I will.”

As they walked past the only car left in the parking lot, the hairs on the back of Danielle's neck stood on end. She hugged herself tightly. She could feel someone's eyes on her. Jerking her head from side to side, she hunted for a body, but couldn't see anyone.

“Are you okay?” Nate asked, concern transforming his
face. He gently put his hand on her elbow and warmth seeped up her arm.

“I'm fine. I just… Never mind.”

Worry etched lines onto his forehead. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Let me walk you to your truck, anyway.”

“I rode my bike,” she admitted.

“Huh?”

With her chin she pointed to the bicycle rack on the far edge of the parking lot. Out of the corner of her eye she scanned the shrubs and shadows for someone watching her. Was it someone from her past? One of the men who had killed her father on another dark night?

Nate let out a full-bodied laugh, tearing her from her innermost fear. “The auto mechanic rides a bike! Ha! That's good.”

She shoved his shoulder playfully. “Don't tease me.” Betrayed by her face as she tried to keep a frown in place, a smile crept onto her lips. “It helps me stay active, and it's usually so beautiful out.”

Nate chuckled again as they moved toward the blue bike chained to the metal rack. She bent to unlock it. Just then a full-bodied shiver ran down her spine, and she jerked around, again trying to find the person watching her. But no one lurked in the shadows, and she couldn't make out any forms in the bushes.

“Are you sure you're okay?” Nate asked again, his frown deeper this time.

She opened her mouth to confess her concern, but remembered that she barely knew the man. Just because he felt comfortable, didn't make him safe. If Andy were home, she could call him to come get her. But if Andy were home, she wouldn't be in the parking lot at the college about to ride her bike all the way home in the dark.

Looking up into Nate's face, she realized that she hadn't answered his question. “Yeah…I'm fine. Just got a shiver for a second.”

He nodded and crossed his arms over his chest, assuming she was referring to the wind. “It's getting cold out here. I'll see you tomorrow.” He patted her shoulder as she straddled the bike. As she peddled around the bend of the sidewalk, one quick glance over her shoulder confirmed that he was still watching her when she disappeared around the curve.

Biting wind chafed her cheeks as she peddled toward the main road. The sidewalks on the campus were dimly lit, so she picked up her speed, hurrying toward the bright street lights. The ride back to her house really only took fifteen minutes, but it felt like hours, each second spent looking over her shoulder, searching for those prying eyes.

The tangible gaze left her shoulders aching with invisible pin pricks as she sailed past a grocery store and a gas station. She thought about stopping. At least there would be other people around. If someone was really watching her, he was less likely to attack her in the midst of a crowd.

But if he had followed her from the college, then he probably wasn't the type to just leave because she was with other people. More likely he'd just wait her out.

Not a thriving metropolis, most of Crescent City shut down by eighty-thirty. Her digital watch read 8:23, which meant the streets would be deserted in just minutes.

She had to hurry. Hunkering down against the wind, she pumped her legs as fast as they would go. Her hands burned from the cold and her knuckles were starkly white beside the black rubber on the handle bars.

The glowing clock on her microwave read 8:32 as she flew through the front door of her little apartment, slamming it behind her. The deadbolt clicked into place, and
she hurried to the window, peering through the blinds into the gravel parking area next to Andy's Auto Shop.

Empty. It was completely deserted.

Her racing heart started slowing down when she sank to the floor beside the little love seat in her living room. As the adrenaline drained from her system, her eyes drooped and her brain shut down.

“Lord, why am I suddenly so afraid?”

N
ate woke with a groan, his neck and shoulders aching from the lumpy couch on which he was sprawled. He rotated his shoulders a couple of times and bent his neck from side to side to make sure that everything was in working order. He tried to focus on the contents of the folder spilled across the coffee table in front of him, but his eyes were blurry, and rubbing them didn't seem to help.

“Coffee,” he grumbled, as he pushed himself up toward the mini kitchen. “Must have coffee.”

He considered drinking the dregs in the bottom of the pot from the night before but thought better of it. He'd only done it a couple of times before and always as a last resort. Things hadn't gotten that desperate yet.

He rinsed out the pot, scooped frozen grounds into the filter and then pressed the orange start button. The machine was probably older than his little sister Jenny, and she had just graduated from college. But at least the thing worked. Soon the sweet aroma of morning caffeine filled the kitchen and adjoining living room, and he poured himself a big mug. No cream. No sugar. Just the good stuff.

Sighing as he and his mug sank back into the couch, he rubbed his watery eyes one more time. Now he could clearly see the shuffled papers on display. Lots of legal
forms, a police report, the accounts of the witnesses and the confessions of two men for their participation in the shooting of Parker James and kidnapping of Nora. Neither had turned over on their leader.

On top of the mess sat the two pictures that seemed to hold the weight of the case.

He took another gulp of coffee and leaned his head back to rest on the couch. Closing his eyes, he thought about where he might find her. Where would she hide out in a small town? Where would she go for comfort in the face of fear?

Parker had said Nora never missed a Sunday service, and if she needed comfort and community, he guessed, she'd go straight to a welcoming congregation.

Hurrying to change his clothes and get presentable, he gulped down the last of his coffee and sprinted to his room. In seven minutes flat he was out the door, ruffling his still-damp hair, so it would dry in the sunlight.

He'd seen a large white building with a steeple on the hill just a couple blocks from the college. Its central location and large size made it a prime place to start. If she wanted to stay hidden, then finding a large congregation would be important. From experience he knew that small churches usually meant that everyone knew everyone else's business. Bigger church bodies tended to have caring people, but so many of them that one could find anonymity among the masses.

He hiked the blocks uphill with a little hop in his step. Danielle had said to come by for his car in the afternoon, and it was almost noon now. He'd have time to scope out the church, and then walk over to the garage to finally get his car back.

The church building was large and cool inside. He entered the foyer through open double wooden doors
leading into the enormous sanctuary. Like so many churches of the day, this one had rid itself of pews. In their place rows of chairs lined the carpets. He guessed there were seats for at least a thousand.

A man with gray hair, wearing a blue T-shirt and black jeans stood at the end of the center aisle. “Help you with something?” he asked.

Nate shook his head. “I don't think so. Just new in town and wondering about the church. When are services?”

“I don't know. I just clean the place.” The older man shrugged then pointed to Nate's left. “The office is thataway.”

Nate nodded appreciatively and slowly walked down the short hallway. Sure enough, just a couple of yards down a sign hung above a door announcing the church office. Through the window beside the door, he could see a middle-aged woman sitting behind a large desk, her ear glued to the phone and lips moving rapidly. He entered in stealth mode as she murmured, “You'll just never guess what she said.”

When the door clicked closed behind him, the office manager looked up, her smile a little guilty. Then it turned inquisitive as she didn't recognize him. “I've got to go, Ruth. I'll tell you all about it later.”

After hanging up the black handset, she said, “Well, hello, there. What can I do for you today?” Her smile was bright, even if her eyes still held questions.

Nate offered her a genuine smile, hoping to loosen her tongue a little bit. “I'm new in town, and I was thinking about coming here on Sunday. What time are the services?”

Without breaking eye contact, she swiped a little brochure from a stack on the counter and flipped it open. “I'm Judith McMurphy—church secretary. So nice to meet you.”
She held out one hand with her palm facing down. Nate gripped it in an awkward shake.

“Nate,” he supplied.

“So, Nate, what brings you to Crescent City?” she asked. A quick glance down revealed that she had moved her hand to cover so much of the brochure that he couldn't read the times listed under her pinky finger.

“I'm a freelance travel journalist. Working on some stories about winter activities in Colorado, so I thought I'd set up shop here for a while and take a college class or two while I'm at it.”

Seemingly ignoring his cover ID as a journalist, she said, “Oh, we have lots of you young college kids here at Sunday morning services.”

Ha! She thought he was young? That was a laugh. His back still ached from sleeping on that terrible couch, and he could barely go twenty-four hours without sleep anymore, if his drive into town was any indication. At thirty-four, he was far from young—but he wasn't about to correct her.

“What classes are you taking?” Judith asked, leaning a little bit closer to him. He opened his mouth, but she said, “Wait. Let me guess. Journalism?”

He fought the guffaw that bubbled in his chest and instead only let a grin cross his face. “Good guess.” If he could pass for the writer type with her, maybe he'd be able to pull off his cover.

The wrinkles around Judith's mouth deepened as she smiled, probably thinking herself the perfect judge of him. “Well, like I said, we have lots of young people from the college here. Let's see…Jud, Shelley and Chris. Oh, and the new guy. He's only been once or twice. What's his name…Kirk.”

“Kirk? Kirk Banner?”

“Oh, you know him?” Her eyes popped open.

Nate nodded nonchalantly. He'd briefly met Kirk at the previous night's class. He'd stayed after, talking with Danielle and Ivey. And while there was absolutely no evidence to corroborate his gut feeling, Nate didn't much care for the guy. Something about him just didn't seem right.

“Well, that's wonderful!” Judith's smile widened and she leaned forward so that only a few inches separated them. Tipping her head even farther forward, she said in a conspiratorial whisper, “So, Nate, tell me. Are you seeing anyone right now? I can think of at least three very eligible, lovely girls.”

He almost choked on his own tongue, but managed to compose himself quickly. He opened his mouth to speak, not even sure how to respond to that statement, when Judith interrupted him as though she hadn't even asked a question. Ticking them off on her fingers, she said, “Let's see there's Rebecca, she's a freshman. Maybe a little young for you.”

Nate bit his tongue to keep from saying,
“You think?”
“Yea, I think someone in her mid-twenties might be a better fit for me. Don't you think?”

She winked at him, as though she knew exactly what he was asking. But he wasn't looking for a date. Just his assignment.

Judith's forehead wrinkled slightly, and she tapped her finger against her pursed lips. “Hmm. There's Danielle. She's quiet, but a very pretty girl. Her brown eyes always look so sad. But you seem the kind of guy who could draw her out.” Judith winked and pushed his shoulder.

“Danielle? Huh.” Nate's grin didn't even flicker, although his mind immediately conjured her face.

“She's really wonderful! Very sweet. Perhaps a little shy, but I'm sure once you get to know her, you'll find her to be fantastic. Should I look for you on Sunday to
introduce the two of you? Oh, what am I saying? Of course I'll introduce you!”

Judith prattled on, a busybody at work, while Nate tried to get his mind off Danielle's soft eyes, rosy cheeks and pink lips. The way the wind had swept her shoulder-length brown hair across her cheek last night in the parking lot had been very becoming. And don't even get him started on her dazzling smile.

He sure didn't mind seeing her as much as he had been lately. Too bad she wasn't his case.

But Judith's plans for his life didn't line up with his own. His plans included a long career with the Bureau, spoiling Jenny's kids—whenever she and her husband decided to grow their family—and hot coffee every morning. One thing his plan did not include was a wife and family of his own.

Thanks to his dad and grandfather, Nate knew he could never make a lifetime commitment.

“Don't worry. I'll introduce you to Danielle on Sunday,” Judith continued.

Speaking of Danielle, the clock on the wall on the far side of the office read nearly one-thirty. It was time for him to head over to the garage. His car should be done.

“Thanks again, Judith,” he interrupted, grabbing the brochure from where she still had it trapped on the counter under her hands. “I'm sure I'll see you around.” With a tip of his imaginary hat, he spun on his heel and started toward Andy's Auto.

 

“So do you see now how the headlight connects to the wiring and fits into the socket?” Danielle held the old headlight that she'd just changed as Ivey nodded slowly.

“I think I get it. But I just know I'm going to need some more practice. Do you have some time next week?”

Not really. But she felt bad for the other woman. It wasn't her fault her husband had run off. Ivey tried to put on a good front, but her eyes were sad, and maybe a bit guilty. Danielle had seen that same look in her mirror for over a year. “Sure. Let's talk in class next Tuesday and make a plan for a day to meet.”

Ivey's smile was appreciative, and she daintily dusted her hands together then held them up in front of her face. “Do you have a restroom or sink?”

“There's one right inside the office on your left.” Then she thought better of it. That restroom was never very clean, and it wasn't as though Ivey was a complete stranger. “Actually there's one in my apartment around the side of the garage. The door's locked, but I'll walk you around. It's much cleaner.”

Ivey grinned in appreciation and reached toward Danielle's arm as though she was going to pat it, then stopped short and laughed. “I better go wash these.”

The pair walked around the side of the building, and Danielle unlocked the door, pushing it open, so Ivey could enter first. Debating whether she should wait with Ivey, she decided that she'd best not leave the front unattended. Gretchen was still at lunch.

As she arrived back at the front of the building, Danielle spied a figure strolling down the road, his hands into his pockets, back and neck straight. She lifted her hand and waved gently, doing her best to tamp down the unruly butterflies bombarding her stomach. Why on earth was she so excited just seeing Nate?

He waved in return, and nodded his head in greeting. She ran a hand over her hair, tucking any stray strands behind her ear. Brushing dust and dirt from her coveralls, she tried not to dwell on the fact that she really was wearing the only thing less attractive than a potato sack.

But there was nothing to be done about it. Anyway, she wasn't trying to impress Nate. He was just a client and a student. No matter what happened, she couldn't drag him into the uncertainty—and possible danger—of her world. She couldn't afford to be attached. If Goodwill ever found her, she'd have to hit the road immediately. No goodbyes, no see-you-laters. Attachments would just make that harder.

Since she wasn't really interested in Nate as more than a client, it would be easy not to let it happen.

Right. She'd just think of him like that.

But her stomach didn't heed her mind, as it nosedived when Nate reached the large opening of the garage door.

“Hi there,” he said, hands still in the pockets of his jeans and shoulder leaning on the doorframe.

“Your car's all done,” she hurried to assure him.

“No rush.” He looked around. “Where's Gretchen? Did she hide when she saw me coming?”

Danielle chuckled. “Not quite.” Gretchen had actually formed a bit of a crush on Nate, and hadn't stopped talking about him since Danielle started working on his car. She would be sad she'd missed his visit. “She's at a late lunch.”

“Hmm.”

Just then Ivey returned, and Danielle jumped in surprise. She'd forgotten that the other woman was even there.

“Thanks so much, Dan—” Ivey's words broke off as she rounded the building and saw them both standing there. “Oh, hi, Nate. Didn't know you'd be here today.”

“Just picking up my car. Cracked transmission pan.”

Ivey looked clueless and said to Danielle, “Well, I guess I should get going and let you get back to work. Thanks again for the lesson—I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. See you tomorrow at class.” Danielle waved at the older woman as she climbed into her black
two-door coupe and kicked up dust and rocks as she took off out of the gravel parking area. Nodding toward the door that connected the garage to the office, Danielle indicated that they should go inside. “Your paperwork and keys are at the desk.”

Nate followed behind her, his steps steady and even on the tile. After she retrieved his key, and he paid the bill, she walked him back to his car.

“You're all set, Nate.”

“Thanks for everything,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirked into a grin.

“No problem.” She ran suddenly damp palms over the heavy blue fabric covering her hips. Why did this man have the ability to instantly make her palms sweat. With a chill, she realized she'd only felt this kind of reaction once before—on that terrifying night when her father was murdered. Could she be in danger from Nate? Was her body trying to warn her that he wasn't safe?