After Midnight (9 page)

She loved being onstage. Although her ultimate goal was to be in films or television, being a part of the cast of an ongoing production was a great learning experience. The few plays she had been in had mostly been one- or two-night stands with fellow students and their parents and friends in the audience. That guaranteed a warm reception.

For the most part, audiences at the Music Hall came knowing not to expect Shakespeare. The shows were always comedies that leaned toward slapstick and lowbrow humor. Everyone laughed and had a great time. The cast did everything they could to ensure that the members of the audience always left feeling better than when they arrived.

That meant that every performance was fresh and the energy level had to be high. Same words, same staging, same actions, but it all had to seem brand-new, as if each audience was the only audience that would ever see it. Kate could see how that could become quite a challenge. She quickly noticed that the older members of the troupe had their own way of keeping from being bored. Every show, one or more of the actors would throw in a new line or a bit of improvisation to challenge the other cast members in the scene. Of course, the audience was seldom aware of the change. But sometimes, it was so unexpected that the other actor onstage would actually crack up and have to pull it together to continue with the scene.

It was all part of the fun. And Kate was loving every minute of it.

Every show left her both drained and invigorated. It would have been wonderful to have someone to wind down with. That was one of the things she most missed about Sam. After every performance, she would try hard not to be disappointed when he wasn’t there to help her clean up. It was a test of her acting skills to pretend that it didn’t matter.

By Friday night she had almost completely given up on ever seeing him again. Feeling particularly tired and disappointed, she walked alone to her car and started the trek home. It wasn’t a particularly dangerous drive, but there were some long, dark stretches and several miles of nothing but rocks and trees and the occasional mule deer or other wild animal that would dart out of the shadows. She had made the trip only a couple dozen times, but already she had seen several accidents caused by everything from coyotes to rock slides.

At that late hour, the highway was almost deserted with only an occasional car or eighteen-wheeler passing in either direction. But she could see the lights of downtown Denver far out in the distance, so she didn’t feel too isolated.

Colorado nights were cool, even in the heart of summertime, and Kate rolled down her windows and opened the moonroof. The breeze felt good lifting and tossing her hair around her face. This was nothing like nights in Texas, which often didn’t chill down below eighty degrees. The Milky Way splashed across the moonless sky, and even an amateur astronomer could pick out the Big Dipper and Polaris directly overhead.

She was so caught up in the splendor of the night while keeping a close watch out for animals that she didn’t notice the pickup truck that had roared up behind her until its headlights poured into her rear window and reflected off her mirrors. Temporarily blinded, she held her left hand up to shield the glare of his high beams while she slowed down, thinking the driver would simply go around. If he was in that big of a hurry, she would let him pass.

Instead, the truck surged and slammed into the back of her SUV. Kate jerked forward as far as her shoulder harness allowed, then slapped back against her seat. She gripped the steering wheel with both hands and peered into her mirror. What the hell was he doing? Didn’t he see her? Instead of changing lanes, he hung on her tail, not quite touching her car but so close, she couldn’t actually see his
headlights—just
the blinding glare.

Bam! He hit her again, but she was braced and hung on to the wheel. Instinctively, her foot pressed down on the accelerator, speeding up and trying to put some distance between her and the truck. Frantically, she glanced around, trying to find her cell phone. It wasn’t on the seat or in the drink holder where she usually kept it.

Damn!
She saw it had fallen on the floor and was way out of her reach. She looked back up at the road and was relieved to see that she was almost to the outskirts of the suburbs. That would bring more traffic and streetlights. If she could just hold on that long.

The truck sped up, too, keeping pace with her no matter how fast she drove. When she saw the speedometer hit ninety, she realized that her terror was making her stupid, and she gradually slowed down until she felt more in control.

Behind her, the driver of the truck showed his disapproval by bashing into the back of her Escape again, then swerving out into the lane next to her. Now his headlights were truly blinding in her side mirror, and she wished he would go ahead and pass her. Instead, he clung to her with his bumper even with her back door.

Suddenly, it occurred to her that he was going to try to push her off the road. She couldn’t outrun him, and she didn’t want to be at his mercy out in the middle of nowhere, so she slammed on her brakes. The other driver clearly hadn’t expected that as he swerved into her lane, too late to realize she was no longer there.

To her relief, instead of slowing back down and continuing his assault, the driver stepped on the gas and pulled away in a cloud of dust and exhaust. Kate was too busy concentrating on keeping her SUV under control to notice any of the specifics about the truck, other than that it was black or dark blue and covered with a layer of dirt, as if it had been off-roading on a muddy trail recently. Even the license plate was coated in mud, providing not even one letter or number for her to remember.

As the truck’s taillights disappeared into the darkness, Kate realized she was shaking so hard she could barely force her fingers to close around her steering wheel. But the last thing she wanted was to stay out in the wilderness any longer in case the lunatic in the truck made a U-turn and came back to run her down again.

She forced herself to keep it together as she got closer and closer to the safety of suburbia. As soon as she saw a well-lit service station, she exited the highway and pulled under the awning next to the building. Kate managed to shift into park, but didn’t turn off the ignition as she unclipped her seat belt and leaned forward until her forehead was resting on the steering wheel. She knew she should call someone, but it seemed too much of an effort to retrieve her cell phone off the floor. Instead, she just wanted to sit in the relative safety of a public place and try to catch her breath.

Was he drunk? Was he crazy? Was it just a random act of violence? Had he been trying to kill her or just playing some sort of sick game? He couldn’t have been after her specifically. She didn’t know anyone in Denver. She had no friends, much less enemies.

She was so deep in thought that the sudden sound of knuckles rapping against her metal doorframe almost made her jump through the moonroof. Barely able to stifle a scream, she jerked around to see a man standing next to her car. Too late, she realized she hadn’t shut her windows, but at least she was in a place where people would hear her if she called for help. Surely no one would try to harm her in public.

The man leaned down and looked in. “It’s Kate, right? What are you doing way out here?”

It took her a few seconds to gather her scattered wits before she recognized the blond reporter staring at her with genuine concern in his blue eyes. “I was…driving home.” It dawned on her that, once again, he was the last person she’d expected to see. “What are
you
doing here?” she asked, suddenly suspicious. Her gaze darted around the parking lot, searching for the truck.

“I just dropped my girlfriend off at her apartment. It’s just a couple of blocks over there.” He indicated the general area behind them. “And I needed gas.” He nodded toward the white Toyota sedan that was parked next to the pumps with a gasoline nozzle in its tank. “It’s ten cents a gallon cheaper here than in town.”

It all seemed legit. The digital numbers clicking as the gas pumped into his car and the fact that there wasn’t a pickup truck in sight confirmed his story. He was wearing a polo shirt under the gray hoodie, so maybe that’s how he dressed up for dates.

He squatted down so he was almost eye level with her. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost. Is something wrong?”

“Some idiot tried to run me off the road. He hit my car….” It occurred to her that there might be damage, and she fumbled with the door handle. She needed to see how bad it was. The door opened, and she stepped out, but her rubbery legs almost buckled beneath her.

“Whoa, careful.” Brian stepped forward and steadied her with a strong arm around her waist.

She sucked in a deep breath and straightened. She wanted to shrug off his help, but she wasn’t feeling all that good about her chances of walking on her own. Together they moved to the back of her Escape.

“Oh, no,” she moaned. “My poor little car.” She stroked her hand over the mangled yellow metal. Both of her taillights had been smashed to oblivion. Her bumper was barely hanging on, tilting so one side was dragging on the ground. It didn’t look like it would make it out of the lot, much less the rest of the way home.

Brian must not have believed that, either, because he bent over and lifted it. It fell off in his hands. Standing there, cradling her twisted bumper, he shrugged and gave her a little smile. “You might need this.”

She pushed the button on the window of the liftgate and was relieved to see the window spring open. At least that still worked. “Just put it in the back. I’ll have to find a body shop tomorrow.”

The bumper was longer than the back storage area, so it took Brian a few minutes to lower one of the backseats so he could angle it in, then shut the glass.

“Is there someone you want to call?” he asked, looking at her and apparently not convinced she had recovered sufficiently. “Maybe the police?”

“No, not the police.” Maybe she answered too quickly, but she simply did not want to spend the rest of the evening answering questions. “I didn’t really see the truck or the driver. I’m sure they wouldn’t be able to find him. He’s probably long gone.”

“Anyone else?”

She hesitated for a moment. There was Sam, but no, not him, either. She shook her head. “I haven’t lived here long. I don’t really know that many people.”

“Are you able to drive?”

She flexed her shoulders. She would be sore tomorrow, but she was feeling stronger by the minute. “I’m fine.”

“Where do you live? I’ll follow you.”

A tiny alarm went off in her head. “Oh…that won’t be necessary. I’ll be fine.”

“Not without taillights, you won’t. If you don’t get creamed by a semi, a cop is sure to pull you over.”

There was certainly truth in that. Brian had been nothing but nice to her tonight. Besides, he was a hero. Heroes didn’t kidnap people and kill them. She was just being silly. “I live downtown, over the bookstore.”

“I live off Speer, so that’s not much out of my way.” He glanced over at his car. “Let me finish with the gas and we’ll take it slow.”

She hesitated a moment longer, then nodded. While he walked to his car and disconnected the hose, she got back into her car. Giving in to her paranoia, she locked the doors, rolled up the windows, and even shut the moonroof. She wasn’t completely comfortable with him following her home. But she was equally uncomfortable with driving it alone.

He got into his Toyota and turned on the engine. He smiled and waved at her, and she slowly eased out of the parking lot. It was after midnight and there was little traffic on the road, so it wasn’t difficult for him to keep up with her. She kept glancing in her mirror and was surprised at how comforting it was that he was still there. They left the highway and wove their way through the streets of downtown until they turned off Colfax onto Grant. She pulled into the parking lot behind the hotel and turned off the ignition.

Brian didn’t get out of his car but stayed parked at the side of the street as she walked from the Escape to the front door of the apartment building. Once she opened the door, she looked back at him and smiled. He nodded and gave her another wave, then drove off. The door closed behind her, and she hurried to her apartment, grateful there was at least one gentleman still alive and well in Denver.

Kate had forgotten to pick up her cell phone from the floor of the car, and there was no way she was going back out to get it. By the time she retrieved it the next morning the battery had run down. She took it back to her apartment and plugged it in so it could charge while she ran down to the store to pick up her paycheck. Today was her day off, and she wanted to get her check into the bank so she could pay her rent on the first of the month.

Mr. Jacobi was busy with a customer, so Kate tidied up the shelves while she was waiting.

“Does that author have any more books?”

Kate recognized the voice even before she turned around. But this time it didn’t cause the rush of anxiety it had before. “He has several in the vampire series, and he has a new series about werewolves.”

“I stayed up until two in the morning to finish the first one,” Brian said. “Of course, I didn’t get back to my apartment until after midnight.”

Kate smiled and picked up two books. “Here are the next two.” She walked to the desk, took a bag out from underneath, and put the novels in it. “Compliments of the house for rescuing a damsel in distress.”

“Oh, no, I was expecting to pay for them.”

“I didn’t thank you properly for helping me last night. With my employee discount this barely covers your gas.”

Reluctantly, Brian took the bag. “Okay, I’ll accept this only if you take me up on my offer of coffee.”

If Kate could have come up with a reasonable excuse to say no, she would have. But combined with his chivalry last night and her complete
availability—which
could be translated as loneliness—she decided to accept. She would just have to be careful.

“Sure, just let me get my check.”

Mr. Jacobi had overheard their conversation and handed her the check. “You can pay for the books next week,” he whispered to her, then smiled. “Go. Have fun. He seems like a nice young man.”

“He’s got a girlfriend,” she informed Mr. Jacobi, “so no matchmaking.”

“Too bad.” He tsked his disapproval. “You need to have more fun.”

She couldn’t disagree with that. But Brian was not the man.

He was waiting for her by the front door, and she followed him to the coffee shop across the street.

“Why were you out so late?” he asked after they had settled into a corner booth and ordered coffee and Danish.

“I’m part of the cast at the Heritage Square Music Hall. Have you ever been there?”

“I went to the amusement park a few times when I was a kid. But it seemed like it was really far away. And you drive it every day?”

“It’s not so bad. It takes only about forty-five minutes most days. Because of the odd hours, I miss all the traffic. And my car gets pretty good gas mileage.”

“How bad was the damage? I didn’t get a good look at it last night.”

She grimaced as she thought about her beloved car’s crinkled rear. “It doesn’t seem to have affected anything vital. It still drives okay. But I’m going to have to improvise some sort of brake lights until I can afford to have it fixed.”

“You’d be screwed if your car broke down,” Brian commented.

“Don’t jinx it.” That was something she definitely didn’t want to think about. “How long have your been working at the
Post
?”

“About eight years, ever since I got out of the marines.”

“Oh, you were in the marines?” She pounced on that tidbit of information as a way to keep the conversation off her.

“I joined the day after my eighteenth birthday. I was really into paintball and video games, and I thought, how much different can it be?” He took a drink of coffee and shook his head. “I was a stupid kid, and it almost got me killed.”

“Did you go to war?”

“Two tours in Iraq. I was in Tikrit when they pulled Saddam Hussein out of that shit hole.” He stared into the blackness of his coffee, distracted by his own memories.

Kate had to admit that his story impressed her. It explained a lot, such as how he had been able to think so quickly and shoot so accurately when faced with the crisis that night. But it was a side she wouldn’t have guessed.

Dressed in his usual gray hoodie and jeans and an old black ZZ Top concert tee, he couldn’t be further from the crispness of a man in uniform. But now that she was really looking at him, she saw that he still wore his sandy blond hair short and his jaw was clean-shaven. He was more attractive than she had originally
thought—handsome
even, in a vanilla sort of way. His eyes were a light blue and his skin had a paleness either brought on by his coloring or a job that kept him indoors more often than not. Under other circumstances, she might be interested in getting to know him better.

But that would never work for so many reasons, not the least of which was that he had a girlfriend and she had a…well, nothing. But a tall, dark-haired cop with a dangerous grin pushed his way into her thoughts.

She mentally shook him out and focused back on Brian. Instead of studying his coffee, now he was staring at her.

“I find it difficult to believe that a woman who looks like you wouldn’t have any friends.” There was nothing aggressive or sexual in his gaze, but it made her uncomfortable. Those blue eyes seemed to cut right through her, seeing even her most carefully guarded secrets.

“I haven’t lived in Denver for very long, and I’ve been really busy trying to find work.”

“Oh? Where did you live before?”

Little alarm bells went off, so she kept her answers vague. “Down south. I always wanted to live in Colorado, and I had nothing holding me back, so here I am.”

“Will you be staying long?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. It depends on…well, a lot of things.”

“Denver can be a tough place, especially in this area. You know, those two cops got shot just a couple of blocks from here.”

An involuntary shiver streaked through her, and she struggled to get herself together before he noticed. “I felt pretty safe until last night,” she told him, which was only slightly untruthful. She knew better than to let on that the shooting had caused her panic attacks and sleepless nights, but through it all, she hadn’t actually felt like she was in danger.

Brian leaned forward with his arms folded on the laminated tabletop. “I love Denver because there are always things going on. But I can see how a young woman like you might not find it appealing. It’s really hard to meet people—good people—here.” He paused, then continued, “Please don’t take this wrong, but you might want to consider moving back to be closer to your family and friends. In my line of work, I see a lot of bad things, and I’d hate to see anything like that happen to you.”

“Oh” was all she managed to say. She blinked in surprise, completely caught unawares by the path of the conversation. “I’ll be careful.”

“Yeah, how’d that work out for you last night?”

“Okay, but surely that was a random event.”

“What if it wasn’t?” His eyes blazed into hers, and he reached over and took her hands in his. “I’m just worried about you.”

Now she truly was uncomfortable. She pulled her hands away and scooted out of the booth. She tried to soften her abruptness with a smile. “Thanks for the coffee. I’ve got to run if I want to make it to the bank before they close at noon.”

“My pleasure.” He lifted the bag in a sort of farewell salute. “Thanks for the books.”

She nodded and started for the door.

“Take care of yourself, Kate,” he called after her.

It wasn’t until she was standing in line at the bank that it struck her that he had known her name. Even last night, he had called her Kate, but she had been so shaken at the time, she hadn’t realized it. She had specifically not told him her name when he had been in the store earlier. How had he known? Then it dawned on her that he had probably just read her name tag at the bookstore, which calmed her down.

He hadn’t let on that he recognized her. He hadn’t asked even one question that sounded like a reporter trying to get information. She just couldn’t believe that he knew her connection. Why would he not come right out and admit it? But he hadn’t even hinted at it.

After cashing her check, she hurried back to her apartment. She paused only long enough to stuff most of the cash into her Princess Beanie Baby and grab her cell phone, then she headed out of town. She knew she had to allow time to stop at an auto parts store where she could, hopefully, talk one of the clerks into replacing the brake and turn signal lightbulbs before a cop added the cost of a ticket to her growing expenses for the month. She hated to even think about how much it was going to cost for the repair. And now that she had her phone recharged, she needed to call her insurance carrier. But the $1,000 deductible was money she didn’t have.

Hours later, she was safely ensconced back in her apartment. The play had gone well and the drive home uneventful, even though her heart had pounded every time headlights speeded up behind her. But none of them had belonged to a dirty pickup truck, and none of them had lingered behind her any longer than it had taken to pass her.

It wasn’t until she was waiting for her soup to heat in a pan on the stove that she glanced at her cell phone and saw that she had a missed call from yesterday. From Sam. She selected “voice mail” and listened with a growing smile.

“Just thought I’d see how you were doing. Give me a call when you get this message. Oh, this is Sam.”

As if she wouldn’t recognize his voice. She glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that it was not quite midnight. Would he still be up? Did it make her sound too eager if she called him now? But a whole day had passed. Surely that would make it seem like she had kind of blown him off. But that thought, too, alarmed her. She didn’t want him to think she was pathetically waiting for his call, but she didn’t want him to believe she didn’t care, either.

Oh, just call him.
She selected “call back,” vowing to let it ring only three times. If he didn’t answer then, she would—

“Where the hell have you been?” His voice was rough and angry. Or was it concern? It caught her off guard.

“Excuse me. Was I supposed to check in with you?” she asked.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, then Sam continued in a much different tone. “Hey, I’m sorry. That was a little stronger than I meant it to be. When I couldn’t get in touch with you…well, I was worried.”

“About me?” She tried not to sound as delighted as she felt.

“Yeah, about you. So, sue me.”

She could hear the smile bouncing along the airwaves and into her ear. “My phone’s battery ran down. I just saw that I missed your call.”

“Busy day?”

“Crazy night.” She hesitated for a moment, not sure she wanted to get into the whole truck and crashing incident.

“Oh?”

Simple question, but she could hear the flatness in his tone as if he was forcing neutrality. Was that a hint of jealousy? That possibility excited her, but it also pushed her into a decision to share last night’s terror with him rather than to have him think something that was totally wrong.

“Someone tried to run me off the road last night.”

Instantly his voice changed, and all hints of humor disappeared. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, just a little shaken. But my poor car is several inches shorter.” She turned off the stove and settled on the couch, then went through the whole evening from the first terrifying moment to the forgotten cell phone in her car, and her eagerness to get to the safe zone of her apartment.

“So Brian just happened to be there?”

“He said he had just dropped his girlfriend off at her apartment. I know it sounds weird, but he drives a white Camry or Corolla or some kind of Toyota. I don’t recognize cars all that well. But it definitely wasn’t a pickup truck.”

“Did you call the police?”

“No, now wait…before you get all Mister Cop on me, there was nothing I could tell them about the truck, and he was long gone.”

“They can check for paint transfer, look at traffic cameras, and a half dozen other things. What is it with you and cops?”

She honestly hadn’t thought about any of those things. “I guess I screwed up. I just wanted to get home.”

“You could have called me.” He sounded almost hurt.

“I wanted to,” she admitted softly. “But I just didn’t know if I should.”

“Why the hell not?”

Kate winced. Should she admit that she had been disappointed that he hadn’t called her? Would it make her sound all needy and clingy if she told him that she had hoped there was more to their relationship than cop and witness? “I just didn’t know if…you would be interested. It was way out of your district.”

She heard him sigh.

“Kate, I am definitely interested. I thought you knew that.”

“But you didn’t call.”

“Neither did you.”

“But you’re the guy.”

“What is this, 1950?” He was silent for a few seconds before continuing. “I didn’t want you to think I was pushing you or taking advantage of your trauma.”

“Why do I feel like I’m in junior high?” Telling him all about last night had brought on a fresh wave of anxiety, but now she could feel a different type of excitement stir inside her. She smiled and stretched out on the couch with her back nestled in the corner. “I didn’t do junior high well.”

“Oh, come on, you were probably one of those hot cheerleaders who had all the boys hanging around your locker.”

“Well, I admit I was a cheerleader, but I was really shy back then. I hardly dated at all. How about you? I’ll bet you were a jock.”

“I played a little football and baseball,” he admitted.

She could hear the creak of leather, and she guessed he, too, was settling back and enjoying the conversation as much as she was.

“And dated the cheerleaders?” she prompted.

“One or two,” he admitted.

“I’ve heard stories about cops.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, they’re probably all true.”

“So, how many women are you juggling right now?” she teased, but realized she was holding her breath, waiting for his response.

“Nah, I’m more of a one-at-a-time guy.”

“I would have thought the girls would be all over you now. Handsome cop with his arm in a sling. Oh, and that sexy shaved area over your ear.”