Nothing to Fear (20 page)

The words she’d practiced were pushed from her mind when he reached her and in one smooth movement took her face between his palms and took her lips with his, a simple kiss of welcome. The chatter of the crowd faded away, replaced by the thunder of blood in her head. Automatically her hands came up to grasp his wrists and she held on. He ended it with a chaste little nudge of his lips that said there was more to come.

He lifted his head and took a step back, his eyes taking a quick trip up and down her body. “You look incredible.” He smiled. “But I guess you knew that.”

She’d hoped so. Still she felt her cheeks heat. “Caroline insisted I clean up a little.” Dana thought of how Caroline had commandeered her closet an hour before. This dress was the only decent thing she owned. “She can be very persuasive.”

“Tell her I said thank you.” He glanced over his shoulder at the people lined up to buy hot dogs, then turned back to her with a frown. “I hate to tell you this, but I can’t stay long.”

Disappointment speared, but she lifted her chin and pasted on a smile. “I understand.” Visions of an evening of conversation followed by more of what had happened against her car that morning drained away. At least he’d had the decency to tell her himself.

He brought their joined hands to her lips and pressed gently. “No, you don’t. I got some more news from home. That family thing I told you about.”

Another time, with another person, she might have probed, but there was distress in his eyes and a hardness to his jaw that said the topic was off-limits, so she didn’t. “I’m glad you came, even if you can’t stay.”

“I needed to see you.”

It was simply said and touched her heart. “I thought about you all day,” she murmured. She lifted her fingers to his face, brushed her thumb under his eye where this morning there had been dark circles. “You got some sleep. Good.”

His eyes flashed then, a burst of heat she felt down to her toes. “I dreamed of you.”

The husky timbre of his voice had her swallowing hard and she suddenly found herself without any words to reply. She could only stare up at him, fascinated and charmed. And unspeakably aroused. If it was a line, it was a hell of a line for sure. But his eyes were clear and honest and sincere and she so wanted to believe it was true.

His lips curved. “So I finally caught you unaware.”

His smile made her heart thump crazily in her chest. “I suppose you did at that.”

He took her hands, kissed her palms. “Sorry I was late. I couldn’t find a parking place.”

“I should have warned you about that. I took the El.”

“I’m just glad you stayed.”

Again she searched for words. “It’s . . . it’s a nice night. I like to watch the people.”

“I know.” It was said with a teasing little grin that lit up his whole face, made him look years younger. Carefree.

“You were watching me,” she accused, flustered because she was . . . flustered. It was a new sensation for Dana Dupinsky and she decided she liked it. She was flirting and flustered and found she, too, felt much younger. Carefree even.

“Just for a minute. I couldn’t help it. I came around the corner and there you were, pretty as a picture.” He let go of one of her hands and toyed with the hair just above the bandage on her head, holding her captive with his searching eyes. “Is it healing?”

“I’m fine.” But she was so much better than fine. Her heart was pounding to beat all hell and every last nerve ending was on fire. “But I think I need to sit down.” Her knees were weak. “These shoes are killing me.”

His eyes flicked down her legs, lingered for a moment before coming back up to rest on her face. “I wish I could say you shouldn’t have worn them, but I’m damn glad you did.” He grinned then and she knew her face had pinked up. “You’re cute when you blush.”

Dana rolled her eyes, a little relieved that the moment was broken. She didn’t think her heart could have taken too much more of that intense green stare. “Let’s find a bench.”

They did, and sat facing each other, his arm casually draped across the back of the bench, his hand holding on to hers. And once again his eyes were focused. On me.

“Tell me about your business partner,” she said suddenly.

His eyes widened, surprised. “Why?”

“Because your work is important to you, so your business partner must be as well. “ She dropped her gaze to their joined hands, then forced herself to look at him. “And I’m trying to get to know you better.”

He was quiet for a moment, just looking at her, and she got the uncomfortable feeling he was trying to see inside her head. The discomfort intensified when she thought he just might be able to. “I did all the talking last night, telling you about Richard.” His head tilted. “You’re a good listener. Tell me about yourself, Dana, and let me be a good listener, too.”

She’d never found it easy to talk about herself, even with Caroline. But now, she found herself wishing she could. Wishing she could tell her worst secrets to a man who was little more than a stranger. And because she did so want to, she knew she should not. “That’s not very easy for me,” she murmured and he dipped his head closer to catch her words. For a moment he hung there, their faces just inches apart, and she thought he’d kiss her. She’d all but closed her eyes in anticipation when he spoke. So quietly. Gently.

“My partner’s name is Clay. I met him on my first deployment right out of the Naval Academy. Richard and I had put in to go together, and I was glad we did, because Clay made my life a living hell those first few weeks. I was glad Richard was there.”

He’d understood. Stunned she could only stare as he maintained the short distance between them and continued. “Clay gave us all nicknames. I was Goldilocks.”

Dana moistened her lips. “Hell on your tough-guy image.”

His gorgeous mouth curved. “You could say that. But Clay and I became friends. He quit the Corps after his tour in Somalia, became a cop. We kept in touch though and when I came home from Afghanistan, he came to the hospital. Made things a hell of a lot better those first weeks home. I hadn’t seen myself as leaving the Corps, ever. He helped me see that my life wasn’t over because I couldn’t be an active Marine anymore.”

“Thank you for telling me.” She bit her lower lip, conscious of his eyes on hers, too close and yet not close enough. “Next time I’ll tell you.”

He moved closer and she held her breath. “I’ll hold you to it.” Then his mouth was on hers, warm and mobile and once again the crowd faded away and there were just the two of them, kissing on a warm summer night. Like a normal couple. The hand that had rested on the back of the bench threaded through her hair, bringing her closer, harder against him, and when the tip of his tongue touched her lips, she opened for him. The hand that held hers squeezed hard, then let go, running up her arm, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His fingertips found her shoulder under the fabric of her dress. Caressed her there. Dana felt the hum deep in her throat, felt his fingers tighten in response.

Heard the impatient clearing of a throat above them. Smelled onions and fried potatoes. The throat cleared again. “Jeeze, man. Get a grip or get a room.”

Ethan jerked away and looked up with a scowl. Dana could hear the pounding of his breath in her ear and it was another moment before she had the presence of mind to turn her own eyes upward to where a teenager stood holding a shallow box filled with cans of soda, fries, and the best dogs in town, heaped high with everything.

“Now give me my ten bucks.”

Ethan leaned forward, wincing, and pulled his wallet from his back pocket. “I ought to deduct for your mouth, kid. Here’s your ten. Now go.”

Dana had to chuckle as the kid walked away examining his ten-dollar bill. “You just can’t find good help anymore.” She took one of the hot dogs and settled back against the bench, happy when Ethan’s arm came around her shoulders. Happy. Content. Sitting on a bench eating a hot dog with a man’s arm around her. It happened every day to all kinds of people, she was certain. But it’s been such a long time since it’s happened to me. All too soon Ethan crumpled up the empty box.

“I hate to say this, but I have to be going. Can you meet me—” Ethan jumped, then reached behind his back where her little black purse had become wedged. “It buzzed.”

“My pager. I usually carry it in my pocket.” She checked the message and Ethan felt her whole body tense. She looked up with a frown. “I need to find a phone.”

Ethan squeezed her shoulder, but she was already standing up, tugging at the hem of her dress. “Dana, wait. Don’t you have a cell phone?”

She was scanning for a phone booth, her face tight. “Can’t afford one. Dammit.”

Ethan stood up, grasped her upper arm gently but firmly. “Use mine.”

She did, stepping a few feet away to dial, her face turned discreetly away. “It’s me,” he heard her say, then, “A cell phone that belongs to a friend. What’s wrong?” Her shoulders jerked with a swift indrawn breath. “Oh, no. Oh, God, no. Max.” Her voice shook and her hand flew up to cover her mouth. “The baby?”

Ethan walked up behind her, covered her shoulders with his hands, and tugged until she leaned into him. She was trembling so he smoothed his hands over her upper arms.

“I am calm,” she said into the phone. “Tell me where you are and I’m on my way.” When she’d finished she took a few deep breaths before handing him his phone over her shoulder. “I’m all right,” she said, but her voice was still shaky. She turned and managed a smile that came off looking haunted. “Thanks for holding me up.”

“Caroline?” he murmured and she nodded.

“I have to go to the hospital. She’s hurt.”

She was paler than when she’d hurt her head the morning before. “What happened?”

“She went grocery shopping when she left my apartment. She was pushing her cart to her car when some idiot came speeding through the parking lot and . . . hit her.”

“How bad is she?”

“They don’t know yet. Dammit, the asshole didn’t even stop.” She closed her eyes and he could see her fighting to concentrate. “I need to get to my apartment and get my car.”

“I’ll drive you,” he said, guiding her back to his car.

Chicago, Monday, August 2, 7:45 P.M.

She hadn’t said a word since he’d buckled her in the passenger side of his car, just staring out the window and biting her lips. Every few minutes she’d murmur something under her breath. A prayer he thought. He murmured one as well for the spunky little woman who’d all but forced Dana to have dinner with him the night before. He thought he owed Caroline Hunter a great deal. He took her hand, and her grip was shattering.

“I know you’re upset,” Ethan said quietly, “but if you’re this tense, you’ll only upset her.”

“You’re right. I’ll calm down.” Dana felt like she’d swallowed a brick. She hadn’t experienced this kind of raw fear since she discovered Evie’s broken body two years before, strangled and stabbed. Left for dead. And now Caroline had been struck by a car, left for dead. The day after Lillian’s funeral.

Dana’s blood ran cold. Hit-and-run. It could have been Goodman. He could have followed Caroline from Dana’s apartment. But he doesn’t know where I live, she thought desperately. Unless . . . He followed me from Lillian’s funeral yesterday after I’d picked up Evie. Damn that girl. Rage sluiced through her, leaving her shaken. But rage would help no one, and neither would her fear. She took one of her own fear management lessons and visualized herself sweeping the fears into a box. Locking it tightly. And walking away.

Think of something else. Someone else. “So did you get any business with Bill Bush?”

Ethan slanted her a look from the corner of his eye. “Not yet. I haven’t given up, though. You’re looking a little better.”

She was feeling calmer. “Thanks. I need to call Evie about Caroline. I didn’t want to call her when I was so upset.”

“Who’s Evie?”

“She’s my . . .” What? What had her relationship with Evie become? “I’m her guardian.” They were nearing their exit. “You want to exit here.”

He acknowledged with a nod. “Why are you her guardian? What relation is she to you?”

Dana considered her answer. Telling him the truth wouldn’t be too dangerous. It might even come in handy should she ever tell him the whole truth. If. “Evie was a runaway. Now she’s family.”

Ethan fished his cell phone from his pocket. “Call her. Let her know about Caroline.”

Dana didn’t have to consider anything there. She would not call Hanover House from Ethan’s cell phone. “That’s okay. I’ll just wait till I get to the hospital.”

Chicago, Monday, August 2, 8:15 P.M.

“It’s done.”

Sitting on her bed, holding the cell against her shoulder as she painted her toenails, Sue smiled. “I know.” The news had come through Evie, who was white-faced and trembling. And mad enough to spit nails. Apparently she’d been all ready to go to the hospital when Dana called and commanded her to stay put. Ruby had overheard Evie’s end of the phone conversation and Ruby liked to make sure everyone was well informed.

“You didn’t tell me she was pregnant.” Fred sounded disgusted.

“Yes, I did.”

“Okay, fine, but you didn’t say she was ready to pop the kid any second.”

Sue was amused. “You have some kind of Madonna complex, Fred?”

There was a moment of petulant silence. “Don’t push me, Susie,” he warned. “I did your favor. Now it’s your turn.”

“You did half my favor, Fred. She’s still alive. But I’ll be nice and do your favor for you anyway. I know what to do. I’ll take care of it tomorrow.” While she was out “job hunting.” She twisted the top on the nail polish and tossed it in her backpack. “I’ll meet you at noon.”

Her smile grew. By noon she would have completed several more of the items on her to-do list. She dialed Donnie Marsden’s number. Time to start setting the stage for the finale. “Donnie. It’s me.”

“I was beginning to think I’d imagined you. Are you ready to tell me about this plan?”

“Not just yet, but I will.” I’ll be ready when I’m ready. “Have you called the boys?”

“Yeah, everybody but Vickers. I couldn’t find him.” Not surprising, Sue thought with a smile. The van holding Vickers’s body was parked in the woods behind an elementary school. Someone would find him—eventually. “The guys all want more info,” Donnie went on. “They don’t want to walk into a trap. I don’t blame them.”