Lethal Exposure. Elisabeth Rees
by the intruder. He watched the way she carefully picked up each photograph and smoothed it with her hand, clearly remembering the day the image was captured. Her photographs had adorned the cover of TIME magazine not just once but twice. He knew it was during her assignment photographing the war in Iraq that she met and fell in love with Ian Grey. Ian often told Jack the story of how he caught sight of her, wearing a long, billowing white robe and head scarf, emerging from the dust of the desert like a beautiful mirage. He had fallen head over heels at that first meeting, and they married only six months later. When Ian finally introduced Jack to Rebecca, Jack understood exactly what his friend was talking about. She had a gentle quality that many envied, and her zest for life was infectious.
Even on a day like today, when she was functioning on only four hours of sleep, she could still cause heads to turn. Age didn’t diminish her beauty at all—she simply improved as the years passed, and now, at the age of thirty-five, she looked more stunning than ever. Dressed simply in blue jeans and a crisp white shirt, her style was effortless. He felt like a bum in comparison, and he tried to smooth out the creases in his linen shirt.
Rebecca closed the drawer on the filing cabinet in her office and looked over at Jack. “I think that’s enough for now,” she said. “The rest can wait until later. The Liberty News office will be open soon, so we should get going to Blountstown to get the pictures.” She sat down in a chair by her polished oak desk and put a hand on her stomach. “I feel sick with worry. What if the children had been here?”
Jack perched himself on the edge of the desk. “I don’t like the thought of you being here alone,” he said. “Do you think I could move in for a while?”
She looked up at him, blinking quickly. “I’m not sure, Jack.” She looked reluctant. “What would the neighbors think?”
He couldn’t help but give a low laugh. “The neighbors can think what they like.” He turned serious. “You need someone to protect you and the girls in case the intruder comes back. I’ll only stay until this is all sorted out.” He touched her hand. “It makes sense, Bec.”
She nodded, seeming to accept his words. “You’re right. But I’m not sure it’s a good idea to bring the children home just yet. Maybe they should stay at Ian’s mom’s house for a little while, even though they’d love to be here to enjoy your company every day.” She looked wistful. “It would be like we were a family again...” She trailed off and bowed her head.
Jack didn’t know what to say. He already felt like an important part of her life, yet he was acutely aware that his role stopped short of being a complete family member. He would always be an outsider—someone to help and support her but not know her intimately.
He stood and looked out the window. “Let’s give it some thought. I’ll drop by my house on the way back from Blountstown to pick up some things.”
His eyes came to rest at the curb where he had parked his car. He was sure he’d left the vehicle in view of the house. And he hadn’t moved it. So why was the space now empty?
* * *
Rebecca watched Jack walk down the path, scanning the street in both directions. The sunshine of 8:00 a.m. was tainted with a fine mist, and the dew on the grass was gently steaming after the cold February night.
Jack turned around and held up his palm. “Stay close to the house, Rebecca.”
He squatted down and looked at the ground, inspecting it thoroughly. Rebecca knew he was looking for clues. Could this just be a random car theft? Or was the situation escalating quicker than she had ever anticipated?
She crossed her arms in the chilly morning air. Then she noticed her neighbor, Mrs. Harper, come out of her house and walk across her yard into her own.
“I thought it was your vehicle, Mr. Jackson,” Mrs. Harper called to him, stepping onto the lawn. “There aren’t many yellow sports cars like that around here.”
Jack spun around. “Did you see who took it, Mrs. Harper?”
Her neighbor patted her freshly curled hair. “Well, yes, I did,” she said, before dropping her voice to almost a whisper. “But I didn’t want to disturb you.” She pursed her lips. “What with you staying the night with Rebecca and all.”
Rebecca rolled her eyes. “He didn’t stay the night, Mrs. Harper,” she said. “I had a break-in last night, and I called Jack to come help out.”
“A break-in,” Mrs. Harper gasped, holding her palm flat to her bosom. “But this is such a safe neighborhood.” She padded across the lawn in her velvet pantsuit, stooping briefly to pick up her little white dog. “Are you all right? Did they take much?” Her eyes traveled to Rebecca’s bandaged hand. “Oh my, you’re hurt.”
Rebecca smiled reassuringly at her, holding up her hand. “This is just a small cut. I’m fine.” She looked over at Jack, feeling suddenly shy in front of Mrs. Harper, well-known in the area for her love of gossip in all its forms. “Thankfully, Jack came to my rescue and scared the intruder off before he had the chance to take anything.”
Mrs. Harper slid her eyes over to Jack coyly. “A knight in shining armor,” she said demurely. “We could use you on our neighborhood watch.”
Rebecca could see Jack struggling to hold his impatience. “Mrs. Harper,” he said calmly, “who took my car?”
“Oh, it was a repo company,” she said with a sympathetic downturn of the eyes. “But don’t feel embarrassed. Financial difficulties can happen to everyone at one time or another.”
“I own the car outright,” he said with a puzzled expression. “It’s not financed.”
Rebecca went to stand next to him. “Could it be something else?” she offered. “Unpaid tickets? Traffic offenses?”
“No,” he replied. “There’s no reason for anyone to tow the car.”
Rebecca stood even closer and lowered her voice. “Do you think it has something to do with the break-in?” She noticed Mrs. Harper creeping closer, making a big pretense of looking at the flower baskets on Rebecca’s porch. “How do we find out where it’s gone?”
Jack brought his face close to hers, so close that she could feel his breath on her cheek. “Let’s go back inside. I’m not comfortable with an audience.”
Jack lifted his head and smiled broadly. “Thank you very much for your help, Mrs. Harper,” he called. “I guess I must’ve forgotten about some unpaid tickets.”
He put his hand on the small of Rebecca’s back and guided her up the porch steps. She glanced behind them to see her neighbor watching them each step of the way, rubbing the fur of her immaculately preened terrier, whispering in the dog’s ear, no doubt already composing the grapevine of rumor that could sweep through a small town like Bristol in the blink of an eye.
* * *
Jack navigated the streets of Blountstown in Rebecca’s minivan. He noticed her wringing her hands in her lap, clearly concerned at this new turn of events. Her house had been broken into and her life threatened and, as if that were not enough, his car was then unlawfully taken by a fake repo company.
“It’ll be okay,” he said, glancing over at her. “We’ll get this all straightened out in a day or two.”
He wished he sounded convincing, because he had no idea who or what they were dealing with. He just hoped he could contain the situation before it got out of hand.
She didn’t answer. She remained silent for a while before asking quietly, “How did Ian die?”
Jack felt his grip tighten on the wheel at the unexpected nature of the question. “I thought you knew that,” he said gently. “Ian stepped on a land mine.”
She looked over at him. “Yes, I know that, but I want to know how he died.” She bowed her head. “Was he scared?”
Jack