Out of the Shadow (11 page)

The bus hadn’t arrived when she reached the corner of 22nd and Cherry. She squeezed into a partially glassed-in bench between an old woman in a tattered wool coat and a young kid in a light jacket that appeared too flimsy for such a cold afternoon. She glanced up the street to see if the bus trundled in her direction, and spied a man in a black trench coat standing on the adjacent corner. A wool cap pulled down over his eyes and a scarf covering his mouth kept his identity secret, but she had a strange yet overwhelming sense she was in his sights.

Just to be safe, she decided to move to the next bus stop. She rushed off in the opposite direction of her usual route with the hope that by hustling up Cherry Street, she’d throw off anyone following her trail. When she glanced back, she could see the man in the trench coat pacing not more than fifty feet behind her. Shivers rushed through her.

To elude him, she made her first left at 21
st
and headed in the direction of Market Street, planning to lose him in the crowd. As the throng thickened, she wove her way between them, too frightened to look back and see if she was still being followed. At the corner of 15th and Market, she stopped to take a breath, glancing around. No sign of her stalker. Perhaps she had been imagining things. Julie always said she had a vivid imagination. She breathed a sigh of relief.

A flash of black nearby sent her racing again toward
Macy’s
Department Store. Imagination aside, she better not take any chances. During the Christmas season,
Macy’s
was thronged with shoppers at all hours of the day. If she had been followed, she could certainly lose her pursuer in the store.

She darted into the crowded grand salon of Macy’s with its three story, high-columned courtyard, and found herself surrounded by Christmas lights, ornaments, and a pipe-organ rendition of Deck the Halls. The gaiety made her fear seem silly and misplaced, and she slowed her pace. This might be an overreaction on her part! No one chased her down; she shouldn’t let fanciful thoughts get the best of her.

She maneuvered her way over to the Santa throne in the middle of the lobby and stood close enough to observe the parents with their kids. Armed with
Nikons
and
Canons
, they waited for their children to take a seat on Santa’s lap. The joy in their eyes and the flush on their cheeks sparked the unfulfilled maternal longing in Becca. Squeals of delight and anticipation only deepened her desire to have a child of her own, a desire not lost with David’s death.

Suddenly a hand grabbed at her crotch and a shock-wave of terror and anger surged through her. Furious, she spun around to confront her attacker, but all she could discern was a blur of anonymous faces surrounding her. Desperately scanning the crowd for the man in the black trench coat, she couldn’t distinguish a soul.

Shaken, Becca fled against the swell as fast as the swarm would allow, to the escalator that descended to the subway trains. She waited impatiently on the subway platform for the Market Street line, constantly looking around for her stalker. At last the train pulled up, but she stood back until the majority of commuters were on board. At the last possible second, she hopped on the train, hoping to confound anyone who might be watching her. At that moment she saw a streak of black enter a car down-track.

The train lurched and she stumbled into another passenger, but refused to move away from the subway doors. She prayed she could exit the train without incident. At the next stop, she shouldered her way out of the train the minute the doors opened, and bolted toward the stairs. Before she entered the stairwell ,she glanced up-track. Surrounded by black, she was unable to spot her stalker. Afraid to move, she scanned the area in a panic. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a black trench coat steal into an exit staircase down-track from hers.

She could barely breathe from sheer fright. Swallowing hard, she dashed toward a different exit, surfacing on 18th Street.

She jogged down the street in her high-heeled boots at an unheard-of clip and, after a furtive glance up and down 18th, stole into a boutique, slipping out the back onto Chestnut Street. On the move, she maneuvered in and out of stores until, breathless, she skirted a doorway into a bookstore mid-block. From the vantage point of the picture glass window she observed her surroundings. Reassured she hadn't been followed, she sidled behind a row of books, flipped open her cell phone, and called Evan.

The phone rang four times and she prayed aloud he’d pick up on the fifth ring. He did. "Evan, I need your help! I’m being stalked," she gasped into the receiver.

"Are you okay? Where are you?"

"I’m in
Borders'
books. At Eighteenth and Walnut Streets."

"Sit tight," he said. "I’m not far from you. I have my bike. I hope you don’t mind."

By bike, he meant his motorcycle. She gulped. "I’ve never ridden on one."

"Don’t worry. It’s not far and I’ll take it slow."

"What about a helmet?"

He laughed. "Don’t you worry your pretty head about it. I’ll lend you mine. Hang tough."

She waited, shaken, hidden behind rows of paperbacks and books on tape. She peered out regularly, keeping a lookout for the stranger in the black trench coat, but failed to see anyone fitting the description. Men passing the bay window seemed menacing, even when they smiled at her. She wanted to hide herself in the ladies' room, but she might miss Evan. All she could do was pray Evan would arrive soon.

And he’d be there first.

Forty-five minutes later Evan pulled his Ducati to the curb in front of Becca’s building and cut the engine. She hopped off the bike, relieved to be home. "What a wild ride! I’m frozen solid."

"Come on up to my place for a hot drink and cold comfort,” he suggested.

"Better mine. I’d like to change into sweats and thaw out."

In her apartment, he waited while she changed, heated water for tea and joined him on the couch with a tray of gingerbread cookies.

"Are you sure you’re all right? You had quite a scare."

"Couldn’t be better," she quipped. "I even had an aerobic workout without going to the gym. What more can I ask?"

He frowned. "All kidding aside, I don’t like hearing you were followed. It must have frightened the hell out of you."

She had only quit trembling after they pulled up to the building. "More than you can imagine. It’s not everyday I have a man chase me. And today I didn’t even want him to."

"You’re absolutely sure you were being followed?"

She shrugged. "It certainly seemed like it, but I guess I could have conjured the whole thing up out of apprehension."

He gathered her into his arms before she could protest. "I’m grateful you’re in one piece, but what are we going to do to keep you that way?"

She liked his use of the word ‘we.’ To let him know she trailed her fingertips over his lips. "You have any ideas?"

"I can pick you up from work when I don’t have class. Maybe you can ask your dad to drive you home on my busy days."

"No way," she said, shaking her head. The last thing she wanted was to alert Julie to her troubles. She’d be shanghaied back to the Goldstein home under twenty-four hour surveillance before she could say ‘illegal rendition.’ "I can ask one of the other nurses to give me a lift to the bus stop. I’ll figure something out."

"I know you will, but I’m here if you need me." He sat back, but kept his hands on her shoulders. "Before I chicken out, I owe you an apology."

"What for? Making me risk my life and limb on your bike?"

He chuckled. "No. For not being there at times when you've needed me. I've been busy lately, but I want to be there for you as much as I can be. I want you to know...you do something to me."

"Makes me want to break into song," she said, then sang the first line of the Cole Porter song, You Do Something to Me, Irv used to sing in the shower.

A crease formed in Evan’s brow. "I must sound ridiculous."

She enclosed one of his hands in hers. "I didn’t mean to make fun of you."

The set of his jaw and his steady gaze conveyed his seriousness. "I mean it, Becca. I’m drawn to you in a way I haven’t felt in a long time. I know you’re only beginning to recover from your trauma, but I want to be around when you’re ready to love again."

She didn’t know what to say.

Fortunately, he did. "I’ve been alone a long time. I’m ready to settle down with the right woman and start a family."

That seized her interest. "You want children?"

"As many as my wife does. I want to be a father."

Her heart melted. Before her sat one of the sexiest men alive, reporting to her he wanted the same thing she did. What was preventing her from throwing her arms around his neck, if not her unhealed heart? "I’ve wanted to have a child for a long time."

"What stopped you?"

"David wasn’t ready. I had a feeling he’d never be ready, or that he didn’t want children at all."

"Too bad. Personally, I’d have a kid already if I’d only met the right woman sooner."

"You know, you have never mentioned any of your prior relationships."

"There’s not much to tell. I married once when I was too young. I tied the knot on the rebound to forget someone I loved. I made a big mistake and ended up divorced in my mid-twenties. I’ve had a couple semi-serious relationships since then, but nothing worked out. I carried a torch for my first love a long time. But it’s all over now, and I’m prepared to make a commitment to you whenever you say the word."

"What makes you so sure I’m the right one?"

He raised her hand to his lips, turned it over, and gently kissed her palm. A sexy, but scary sensation sizzled up her arm.

"Because I love your intelligence and sense of humor. The way your eyes light up when you're excited. The playful, but also the more serious side of you. The more time I spend with you, the more I like you. That hasn't happened with anyone else in a long time. I’m more certain than I’ve ever been about anything in my entire life. Take your time, but when you’re ready, I’ll be there."

It took every ounce of her will power not to give in to him. How long could she hold out against such a sincere expression of desire? And how long would she want to? She didn’t have to answer the question because it was rhetorical. In the meantime, she wanted to be sure her interest wasn’t just a reaction to an ounce of his ardor coupled with a pound of her loneliness. She didn’t want to make the same mistake twice in picking the wrong person for the wrong reason. Especially since she couldn't be certain whether she could trust him.

She glanced over at Evan, and his warm smile lit a fire in her. She wanted to take her time with him, but staring at him made her wonder if it would be possible.

Chapter Eight

My feet ached from standing for hours, but I felt gratified by the applause when I wrapped up the lecture for the day. Surprised by the number of seminar participants who rushed the podium to speak with me about Rachel’s case, I was pleased I had made an impression on this sophisticated group. I answered all their questions as completely as possible without giving away the next day’s lecture, and prepared to leave for the night. After folding my notes into my briefcase, I turned to see Adrian at my side.

"You’re right, Sarah, I’m hooked. You can’t leave me hanging this way."

"Want to see me?" I joked. "You’ll have to be patient and wait for the conclusion tomorrow. It’ll be worth it."

He groaned. "No fair. This case is amazing. I want more now."

The look in his eyes told me he wanted more from me, too. Self-conscious, I lowered my gaze and straightened my forest-green suit jacket. After a full day of lecturing, I knew I looked frumpy and tired, but when I glanced back up, he followed my hand with his eyes. To distract both of us, I picked up my cup and carried it to the table in the rear of the room. He followed.

"You’re not going to reveal anything to me, even though we’re compadres?"

I placed the cup on a tray. "No way, no how. You wait like the rest."

He narrowed his eyes. "How about for a price?"

"What are you offering?"

"A drink at the bar to loosen your lips."

The way he said it made it hard to resist. "I wish I could, but I have to go back to my office and see a couple of clients."

"Too bad," he said, looking deflated. "Can we take a rain check for tomorrow after the conference ends? You can’t schedule patients on a Friday night. It’s against the law."

I laughed. "That might work. Check with me in the morning."

He looked at me with a smug expression. "A little commitment phobic, are we? You sound as scared as Becca. Don’t you wonder if your own fears might stand in the way of your helping her?"

I took a step back. "Ouch. You talk about not being fair. How can you judge me based on one statement? Are you always this quick to jump to conclusions?"

He didn’t say anything or change his expression.

"I have tentative plans with my sister tomorrow night. I’ll check with her to see if we’re still on, and let you know first thing." I glanced at my watch. "'I'd better go now."

"Let me walk you to your car. Are you in the garage?"

I nodded. "I’m glad you’re going with me. I was mugged a couple of weeks ago outside my office, and I’m still a little nervous about going into deserted places alone. I’d appreciate the company."

We made our way to the elevator. While we waited for it to arrive, he turned to me. "What do you think about Becca falling for this Evan fellow soon after her husband’s murder? Do you think it’s premature, a symptom of an underlying emotional problem?"

The elevator doors opened and we entered. "I think it may be partly related to her grief and a mild depression, but I also see it as a combination of her inability to form a healthy attachment with her husband, coupled with an intense attraction to an apparently interested and interesting man."

"It’s a little soon though, don’t you think? Did you discourage her from getting involved?"

"I did my part, but she had her own doubts, too."

He leveled his baby blues on me and I felt myself melt. "Understandable under the circumstances."

Grateful when the elevator stopped and we were forced to step out, I said, "Perhaps. As you know, relationships can be scary. To paraphrase the Wizard of Oz, you put yourself on the line when you trust someone with an organ as easily broken as your heart."

"Is that what happened to you?"

We approached my car and
 I fumbled for my keys. "We’re not talking about me."

"We’re not?

It sounded like he was onto me. I strode more briskly now.

He caught up. "No one can give you any guarantees, but ultimately there’s only one person who can truly betray you and let you down. Yourself."

He was right, although I didn’t want to admit it. I would rather hold onto my role as victim, with my ex as victimizer. I know in my heart I’m the one who let myself down. I recognized the signs of a brewing storm long before it materialized, but I ignored all the warning signs. And after Ken left, I refused to do anything about my bitterness and distrust.

"I hope you’re as helpful with your patients as you’ve been with me."

He stopped me with a hand on my arm and rotated me toward him. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I like you, Sarah, enough to want to be your friend. I’d never intentionally hurt you."

I patted the hand holding my arm. "You didn’t hurt me. What you said stung a little, but I know you’re right. I have to face the facts whether I like them or not." I strutted up to my silver
sedan
and opened the door, while he stood by. Before ducking into my seat, I glanced back. "I wish I could talk longer, but I do have appointments." Our eyes met and held for one long, hot moment. "I’ll see you first thing tomorrow."

"Goodnight," he said and unexpectedly brushed my lips with his before sauntering off. 

Breathless, I stood watching him, tingling from head to toe.

This man has pushed all my alarm buttons, but I was too intrigued to flee. I had a queasy sensation in my gut, but I know it's only fear and couldn’t be counted on as feedback. Deep down, I’m too curious not to see more of Adrian Farley. And it’s time I stop giving into my fear about men and take a risk. While my head cautioned me about starting something new, I knew I was already caught in a trap I might not choose to escape.

Later that same evening, after closing the office door behind my last patient, I picked up the receiver and dialed my sister Lara’s number.

           
She answered after a couple of rings. "Sis, why the pleasure of a call this evening? I can only speak a few minutes. I have to get Dicky off to bed."

"Sit down." I waited a moment and then said,
 "I think I’m having a nervous breakdown. I met the most amazing man today. A psychologist from Pittsburgh. I need psychiatric help, but you’re the best I can do at this late hour."

"Dr. Lara at your service." I heard her yell at Dicky. "Sorry. I’m up to my ass in Legos. Let me take this into the next room." Again I heard a muffled voice and then she came back on the line. "Kids! Can’t live with 'em, can’t live without ‘em. Now, what was it you were telling me about some hottie you met today? Go ahead and make my day."

"I’m going nuts. He’s too good to be true. Too good looking. Too smart. Too polished. He’s just too perfect. What the hell does he see in me?"

Lara made a "tsk" sound with her tongue. "What I do. You’re a fabulously successful woman and a joy to be around. That’s what he sees."

My heart swelled. How lucky I am to have such a loving sister! "I love you, too, even if you’re a terrible liar. I guess it’s been too long a time since I met anyone I’m even remotely attracted to. After what happened with Ken, I'm still unsure I can trust anyone new. Or myself to make a good decision."

Another yell for Dicky to stop tossing his toys. "Sorry again. He becomes cranky when he’s tired."

"Am I keeping you away from putting him down? I can call you later."

"Are you kidding? This is the best news I’ve heard in a long time. I thought I’d never hear this from you again, considering how hard you took the thing with Ken. It’s a relief to hear you say someone interests you."

"I wouldn’t be bothering you at Dicky’s bedtime if I wasn’t having a major panic attack. I’m not sure what I should do. He wants to take me out after the conference tomorrow, but besides our plans, I’m wondering whether I should start anything new. This guy might just be too slick."

Lara sighed. "What the hell are you waiting for? The Pope to convert? It’s been over nine months since Ken moved out. It’s time for you to start dating again! This one sounds too good to pass up."

“Maybe too good to be true.”

Of course Lara had it right. As much as I’d like to, I couldn’t keep using Ken’s betrayal and my subsequent suspiciousness as excuses for not moving on. I’d never let one of my clients get away with that one. Why would I let myself? It might be easier to hold onto past hurts than to risk inviting new ones, but it isn’t healthy, and wouldn’t make me happy. It’s time to pull my head out of the hole it’s been in, and face reality.

"Does it mean you’re breaking our date?" I asked.

"We can do it another time. I’m only biology to you. Go out with this man and see if he’s chemistry. You need to expand your curriculum."

"All right, I’ll go. But you better be there if it’s a bust and I need a shoulder to sob on."

"You know I will."

With the receiver stuck under my chin, I began to place client notes in a file. "It’s late, and I’d better be heading home. I have a few things to put away before I can leave for the night."

"Where are you calling from?" Was that a subtle surge of anxiety in Lara’s voice?

"The office. I’m leaving right now."

An awkward silence descended between us before her voice came back on the line. "It’s dark, are you going to be all right? Where are you parked?"

How sweet of Lara to be concerned after my recent attack! "Don’t worry. I bought the pepper spray your Will suggested, and I carry it with me all the time. I wouldn’t leave home without it. I’ll be fine."

"Will you call me the moment you get home?"

"How silly of me. If I hadn’t called you now, I wouldn’t have worried you. Of course I’ll phone you."

After I hung up, I smiled. If Lara wanted me safe, she’d never let me date again. But she is and I am. I locked the office door and headed toward the elevator. All Lara cares about is saving my butt, she doesn’t give a damn about protecting my heart.