Christmas Conspiracy. Susan Sleeman
He gave a quick, almost uncomfortable nod as though he didn’t like to have any attention drawn to his helpfulness. He’d acted the same way when she’d thanked him at the hospital, claiming his team had done all the work.
“We should get you inside.” He opened his door, the hinge groaning in protest. His vehicle had to be ten-plus years old, and it looked well used. Still, it seemed like the kind of vehicle he would own. Something serviceable, but not showy or pretentious.
After he came around the front of the truck, he opened her door and offered his hand again. She accepted his help, and once she’d found solid footing, his hand moved to the small of her back and urged her toward the home she’d painted a crisp white with blue trim.
She fished out her keys and unlocked the bright blue door, pushing it open before turning to bid Jake goodbye.
She suddenly wished he didn’t have to leave, and at the same time hoped he would. “Thank you for the ride. For everything, actually.”
“I’d like to have a look around your house just to be safe.”
Her heart fluttered. “You don’t think the intruder has come here, do you?”
“I doubt it,” he said, sounding sure of his opinion. “But I don’t want to take any chances.”
“I don’t, either.” Though she didn’t like the thought of being alone with him when she was emotional and vulnerable to his kindness, she stepped back.
“I’ll make it quick.” He brushed past her, and his sure steps took him straight into her house.
She closed and locked the door, then trailed him as he went through the main living areas of her house. At the back door, he rested his hand on his weapon, and it remained in place as he peered out the kitchen window into her backyard.
He spun. “If you’ll give me the key, I’ll check your garage.”
She lifted a key from a peg on the wall and handed it to him.
“It’s not a good idea to keep your keys hanging in plain sight,” he said. “There are bad people in this world. You experienced that today, and you don’t want to make things easier for them. If someone did break into your house, they’d have keys to your car and any other keys you keep hanging here.” He didn’t wait for a response from her but stepped out the door. She watched him cross her small backyard to the single-car garage.
She’d never really given a lot of thought to personal safety. At least not beyond knowing full well that people died in car crashes and that she should be extra-vigilant while driving, plus avoiding dangerous situations. She paid attention to her surroundings, but such things were probably on Jake’s mind most of the time.
How difficult it would be to live under those terms. She wished no one had to be constantly on guard. She was even more thankful for men and women like Jake and his team, who dedicated their lives to protecting people.
He secured the garage door, and when he returned, he put the keys in her hand instead of hanging them on the peg.
They toured the remainder of the house where he paid special attention to the closets and the space under the beds. She appreciated his thoroughness but hoped he didn’t find too many dust bunnies.
Back at the front door, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. “My cell is on here. Call me if you need anything. No matter what. No matter the time.” He kept his gaze glued to hers and looked torn about leaving, but stepped outside.
At the stairs, he paused to look back. His gaze connected with hers and held. He hid his emotions, but she could tell he wanted to stay.
“Thank you for everything,” she said to get him moving.
He gave a sharp nod then jogged down to the sidewalk. She watched him climb into his truck and back out of the driveway before she closed and locked the door. She set her purse on the hall table and added her iPad, too. The center parents and staff needed to hear from her, but she simply had to change out of the hospital gowns and shower off the creepy-crawly feeling from the intruder’s touch.
In her bathroom, she gingerly removed the gowns and looked at her stomach in the mirror. Two-inch-wide bruises already circled her body, the deep purple attesting to her struggle against the intruder’s iron grip. No wonder her pain had continued to grow after the ketamine had worn off.
She turned on the shower, cranked the knob to steaming hot and climbed under the spray. The water cascaded over her back and circled the drain. She grabbed a bar of soap. The slippery slice shot from her hands and pinged around the tile walls until it landed at her feet. Bending to retrieve it, dizziness assaulted her again. She planted her hands on her knees and held her position to let it clear. Thankfully, most of the drug had left her system and she could function, but she wished it would dissipate even faster.
Maybe then she wouldn’t be so emotional and weepy around Detective Hunter and Jake. She just couldn’t imagine that either of them truly believed she had participated in Kelly’s attempted kidnapping. Waking up at the center came to mind, the sight of Jake’s caring face, his smile and concern. Then he’d held Kelly out so she could see the baby was fine. Joy had nearly burst her heart and she’d thought him to be an ally.
And now?
Until the detective proved Rachael had no part in the attempted kidnapping, she would be alone in her defense—much like she was alone in life. For the first time since she’d come to grips with losing Eli and the baby, the loneliness nearly bothered her more than she could bear.
Tears threatened again, burning at the back of her eyes for release.
No. She wouldn’t let them take over. She didn’t want to be stuffed up for her phone calls. She could let herself cry after her families were taken care of.
She slowly stood and grabbed a washcloth to scrub the horrible attack from her body. As the cloth ran over her skin, she imagined his touch sliding away. By the time she finished and dressed in yoga pants and a sweatshirt, the bruised areas were clean and aching even more, but she felt refreshed.
She headed to the foyer table to grab a few aspirin to take the edge off her pain.
She stepped into the family room and something red on the mirror above the fireplace caught her attention. She focused. Spotted big bold letters scribbled on the glass.
A message.
Talk and You Die.
She took a step back, clasped a hand over her mouth. He gaze shot around the room, looking for the intruder. She spotted her favorite lipstick laying open on the floor.
Terror stole her breath. Her throat closed down as if hands had come around her neck and squeezed.
She took another step back. Then another. And another.
She was aware of screams coming from somewhere.
They had to be from her, but she could barely breathe. How could she be the one screaming?
Hair-raising screams greeted Jake when he parked in Rachael’s driveway and opened his car door. Deputy Hill was already out of his car and jogging toward her house, his gun drawn.
Jake drew his service weapon as adrenaline raced through his veins.
Thankfully, he’d come back. He’d traveled a short distance but couldn’t forget the forlorn look on Rachael’s face as he departed, so he’d turned around. Looked like he’d done so just in time.
He charged across the lawn to step in front of Hill.
“Update me,” Jake demanded as he marched toward the entrance.
“No movement near the house,” Hill said. “The woman just started screaming from inside.”