Invisibility Cloak (2 page)

Chapter 1

Two Months Later . . .

R
yder Stevenson ran his hand through his short black hair as he ambled over to his office window, for what . . . the tenth time? He hadn’t seen the slight figure walking slowly to the gym today. It was Friday, right? Flipping his wrist over, he checked the date on his watch. Yep it was a Friday, so where was she?

For the past eight weeks―every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday―he’d watched her go to the gym. He swore under his breath. What was he doing? Obsessing over a lady? Damn it, a woman had never made him feel like this.
Ever!

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Especially a woman he’d only seen, but never met. Keeping his cool in all situations had been drilled into him in the Army, long ago. His Special Ops training taught him to maintain a calm, cool façade in any situation. And he normally did . . .

. . . Except two months ago, back in March, all his training had flown out the window during a phone call from Sophia Edgington when he’d glanced outside. An elderly man, who he’d assumed was her father, was pushing her down the sidewalk in a wheelchair. The wind blew so fiercely that he’d held his breath. Worried the old guy would stumble onto his side. But they’d methodically navigated to the gym; every day at first. She’d started out in a wheelchair and then graduated to a four-pronged metallic cane. That was when the visits scaled down to three times a week.

So what happened to her today? These past two months, he’d felt like her invisible protector as she slowly made her way to the gym. That was probably why he was worried now. Her head always down, shoulder length blond hair blowing over her face, she’d looked so alone. Maybe that was what tore at his gut.

He flashed back to the school benefit he’d attended with Edgington weeks ago and stifled back a laugh. Holy shit, the woman just wouldn’t take no for an answer. Edgington was a big client of his, and sounded scared to go anywhere by herself. His gut had churned at the thought of her ex-husband hurting her. But it wasn’t just her; any woman or child being purposefully hurt struck him to the core.

So, he’d gone with the divorcee to her kid’s school function―in work mode. All of his senses had been on high alert when he’d picked her up, attending the private school’s fundraiser. He’d soon realized Sophia Edgington wasn’t as scared as she’d professed to be. When her fingers stroked the inside of his right thigh, he knew she was playing him, had actually come on to him.

She was a looker too, but he wasn’t interested. He never mixed business with pleasure. So after he’d politely extracted her well-manicured hand off his privates, he’d driven her home, graciously turning down her offer to come inside for a drink. Sure, he’d had to suffer through her sulking—and she was good. One of the best pouters he’d ever seen, sticking out her plump bottom lip to her full advantage.

But he knew her type. Women like Edgington had stopped stirring him a while ago. They had cold calculation in every pose as well as the words that came out of their red lip-glossed mouths. He’d had his fun with women like that before, but he was looking for something else now.

Shit, I must be getting old!

He groaned as he looked starkly at the large gym windows staring at him across the way. Thirty-nine-years old and turning into an old codger. Was he really ready to settle down, get married, and have a few kids? Swiveling his desk chair, he looked at the gym doors. He wasn’t sure, but he knew he wasn’t doing women like Sophia Edgington anymore. Hell, he hadn’t felt any sparks, not even a slight rise when her hand landed on his leg.

His eyes dipped again out the window.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
His intercom vibrated, jolting him out of his thoughts and he pressed the button on his phone. “Yes, Marge?”

“Mr. Stevenson, Mrs. Edgington is on line two.”

“Thanks.” His secretary, Marge was unbelievably efficient. Ryder had no doubt she was furiously typing up a proposal, filing away the stacks of contracts he’d put on her desk this morning, while grabbing the phone lines with her other hand.

Jaw set, he readied himself for another outlandish request from Edgington and pressed on the phone speaker. “Hello, Mrs. Edgington, what can I help you with today?” He clasped his hands behind his back as he paced in front of the window.

“Ryder,” Sophia Edgington purred into the phone. “I’m having an intimate get together this Saturday. Very small.” She paused. “To celebrate my emancipation from Parker. Please say you’ll come.”

“Mrs. Edgington, I―” Ryder began, ready to make up an excuse not to go. He’d find something to use to get out of it.

Sophia cut in, “Oh, Ryder, please. I need you here. I’m worried about security issues.”

He had to give it to her―she knew what to say to get him there. “What time?”

“I’m serving drinks at seven and dinner at eight.”

“I’ll be there,” Ryder gritted out. “It will be a good time to check the security of my system we put in.”
Yeah, right.

“Great,” she breathed into the phone. “Just having you there will make me feel safer.”

“See you tomorrow,” he grunted, unable to hide his displeasure at having to socialize with her, again. The woman just didn’t get it. He poked the speaker button with a vengeance, ending the connection. She obviously hadn’t gotten the message that he wasn’t interested. Sure, he wanted her as a client, but he was getting damn tired of having to fend her off. At least there would be other people there, and he could avoid her by monitoring the system. A wave of uneasiness whacked him in the gut.
Something doesn’t add up
.

Sophia, the newly divorced mother of two came to him asking for better security in her home in Holmby Hills. She already lived in a gated community with a security unit in place. For some unknown reason, she wanted the currently installed system gone and Ryder’s suggestions and equipment in. Well, she
could
need it for her drug habit.

Someone needed to guard the cocaine.

It hadn’t been hard to miss her constant sniffling and larger than normal pupils. Sometimes she’d looked downright spooky. But he wasn’t a DEA agent. Apparently her ex-husband, the chief executive officer of the community’s largest bank, Parker Edgington, harassed
her
nonstop. Although he’d been the one to ask for the divorce from Sophia, his third wife, and she claimed to be scared of him. He’d never met Parker Edgington personally, but definitely knew the name. The Edgington family owned most of the Harbor Falls and rented out all of downtown. Hell, even the streets were named after their damn kids.

Parker’s father had developed most of the subdivisions around the city. The quaint downtown area’s main street was named Anastacia Avenue. Rodrick Way and Parker Place were the streets that wove around and intertwined between the stately mansions that had been there since he could remember. None of it interested him. He liked quiet, understated beauty, he always had. His gaze found the window again.

Where the hell is she?

A
manda Harris pushed open the glass door of the Rehabilitation Institute in Harbor Falls and looked around. Excitement bubbled up inside her. She’d missed her regular workout at the gym with her therapist for this. She took a deep breath.
It was worth it.
A brace would make her look normal again.

Whatever normal was for me.

Walking over to the front desk, she smiled at the receptionist. “Hi, I have a ten o’clock appointment with Doctor Rathbone.”

“Oh.” The perky blonde gave her a big toothy grin then looked at her appointment book. “You must be Mrs. Amanda Harris?”

“Ms. Harris,” she corrected. “And yes, that’s me.”

“I’ll buzz you in. Dr. Rathbone is waiting for you.” She pointed to the hallway behind Amanda. “First door on the right. Through those double glass doors.”

“Thanks.” Not that she needed to be shown where Rathbone’s office was, because she’d been here a few times already. Amanda cautiously walked to the doctor’s office, the orthopedic specialist she’d been seeing ever since her accident. Entering the area, she lightly knocked on the office door.

“Come in,” a muffled voice called out.

She turned the knob and peeked her head in. “Hi, Dr. Rathbone.”

Dr. Rathbone stood up. “Hello, Amanda.” He gestured to the chair in front of him. “Take a seat.”

Heart thudding, she lowered herself onto the chair.

Dr. Rathbone opened a drawer and took out a plastic brace. “Here it is. Specially molded to your leg and fitted for your foot.”

Amanda’s smile fell along with her stomach. “I . . . I thought somehow it would be smaller.” She scrunched up her forehead.

“Now, Amanda, you’re a scientist.” Dr. Rathbone approached her. “This will help you walk. Sure, it isn’t the prettiest looking thing, but your safety and well-being are the most important factors here. Right?” He held out the white plastic brace to her. “Try it on. I guarantee you’ll love it.”

Amanda pressed her lips together. Of course he was right. She took the brace. Bending over, she toed off her shoe and put it on. “I suppose I can wear pants and no one will be able to see it?” Standing up, she walked around the room, testing it. “It does feel good.”

“Absolutely. No one can see it under your pants.” Dr. Rathbone smiled. “I’m so glad it feels good. And don’t forget to keep doing your exercises.”

“Oh, I won’t. Thank you.”

“Now, I’ll see you back here in a few weeks for a follow up.”

Chapter 2

A
manda narrowed her eyes at the two dresses draped up on her bedroom door.

Black or white?

They were the same dress, but in two different shades. Was it okay to wear white yet? Were you only supposed to wear white after Memorial Day, but before Labor Day? She’d really like to wear her new brace, but in either dress it would stick out like a huge sore thumb and she knew everyone was wearing dresses tonight. Sophia Edgington called earlier today to confirm that Amanda was coming and murmured it was “casually formal” before she hung up.

Whatever that means.

She pulled her brows down when Sophia had told her that on the phone, and she reached her hand up to rub her crinkled forehead to validate―yep, she was still just as confused. Her hostess tonight highly suggested wearing a dress. But Amanda could’ve sworn it was a threat. That icky feeling of being bullied by the meaner, popular girls back in high school settled in her chest.

She blew out a breath.

Amanda was never really comfortable at these upper crust social outings. Sophia Edgington was a very thin acquaintance, so she was surprised when the woman invited her to one of her soirees. They were all the social section covered anymore in the Harbor Falls Gazette. However, their children were good friends, so she’d make the effort for them. And it would be nice to be around some other adults.

But the awful pressure of being in a social setting smothered her, and she hadn’t even started getting ready to go over there! Pathetic.

Get a grip Amanda.

She plucked the white one off the top of the door. “I can throw on a light shawl,” she murmured aloud to help sway herself that this was the right choice. Sliding her dress off the hanger, she pulled it over her head. It skimmed over her silkily, and she wiggled slightly so it cascaded all the way down. This outfit always made her feel so good. Amanda knew she was supposed to wear the dress, but sometimes, the dress really took care of her. And this little number was one of those dresses, because it made her feel like a princess.

All right
, so maybe she’d picked out the dress more for her choice of shoes to wear with it, she sighed in resignation. Ever since her car accident, she could only wear flat shoes. Her legs had been torn up badly when the car rolled and had gotten jammed underneath the crushed dashboard. The firemen, who were the first on the scene after she slid down the embankment, had to cut away the front of her beloved Honda Civic just to extract her. Her car was totaled, but miraculously she was spared. The only body part that was still damaged was her left leg.

Although initially both were trapped, the right leg quickly healed. The doctors told her not to expect a full recovery of her left leg. As a result of the injury, she had sustained foot drop, from a nerve in her leg being torn. Or was the nerve severed? She made a mental note to ask her doctor about that. Running her hands down the sides of her hips she pivoted to see every angle in her bathroom mirror. When she stood motionless in front of her mirror, she’d looked like she always had. Amanda smiled at her reflection and then walked to her bathroom vanity. It was only when she was in motion did she recognize she was no longer the same. That was when her deficiencies from the car accident showed. She swung her leg around awkwardly and sat down on her soft bench seat.

Plucking the gray eye shadow out of her drawer, she lined her top left eyelid and then the other.

After the car accident, the doctors explained her prognosis, but quickly emphasized that she did survive the fatalistic crash seemingly well; compared to what could have happened. She knew it could’ve been worse; a head injury, crushed spine, or even death.

She snapped the eye makeup lid closed and grabbed her mascara.

Hmmph
. Scowling at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, she still mourned for the loss of her life as it’d been before the accident. Wasn’t she allowed to do that? She couldn’t jog like she used to or even keep up with her two teenagers. Self-pity crept in and her throat clogged.

No
. She shook her head. Those depressing notions were utterly useless; they got her absolutely nowhere. Instead, she unscrewed the lid to her mascara and stroked it on her top lashes.

Refusing to let those weak thoughts overtake her, she blinked a few times to stop her eyes from watering.

I am alive you, crybaby!

Unlike poor Wayne. Amanda breathed in an empty sob. Wayne. What had he done? What had he gotten himself into?

After delicately swiping her lower lashes, she set her mascara down and picked up some taupe colored shadow and brushed it lightly on her upper lid.

When the police came to her door two months ago, she couldn’t believe that Wayne was dead. But when they asked her to identify his body parts, that was beyond anything she’d ever experienced in her entire life. Some maniac had beheaded and dismembered Wayne. How could anyone possibly do that? She couldn’t think back on those awful memories otherwise she’d start crying again. He’d been such a great guy.

Twisting up her blond hair in a quick movement, she secured the ends on top of her head with a pretty clip. Wayne had called it
Amanda’s up-do
. She stared at her reflection in the mirror and remembered their relationship.

Wayne had been a brilliant grad student, full of hope and promise. They’d met at Duke University, in chemistry class. She laughed, because they’d been the two nerds who’d gravitated toward each other. Meeting up in the science lab or the library; they’d helped each other with their papers and encouraged each other to delve into new aspects of so many hypotheses.

Wayne was into the Strand Theory and she’d always gravitated toward electromagnetics. Years later, they’d joked how they’d fallen in love over metamaterials. They’d both been outstanding researchers, working with fantastic professors and on cutting edge projects. Way back then, life couldn’t get any better. So they’d decided to get married, and it was wonderful.

At first.

He’d been the sweet, good-looking nerd she loved, until his ego took over. Nick and Sammie came quickly into their lives. She’d put her studies and career on hold to stay at home with their son and daughter and never regretted a moment.

Amanda reached for her perfume bottle and spritzed it on her neck and cleavage and set it back on her vanity.
Oh . . .
on second thought, she plucked up the perfume again and sprayed her inner right forearm, then rubbed both wrists together. She bent to inhale the pretty fragrance, loving the smell. Wayne gave it to her last Christmas.

Even though they’d been divorced for over ten years, he’d still given her Christmas and birthday presents. Something she’d never understood.

She picked up a few bobby pins to secure wayward strands of hair that stuck out wildly from her bun.

When Wayne had started working on classified government projects―that was when he’d changed. His ego ballooned at an alarming rate and he’d received a lot of attention. Late nights ran into mornings, and she’d no longer known her husband. Suddenly, he wasn’t the hard-working, dedicated scientist she’d married. Instead, he’d morphed into a salesman. Needing to gain backing for all the research he’d wanted to explore, he started partying and schmoozing. Nights away from home could no longer be explained and enough was enough. She’d only put up with his philandering for four years. They’d divorced when the children were toddlers and he’d never protested, not once. She wasn’t sure what had hurt the most―his womanizing or letting her and his children leave without a fight.

Enough sifting through past memories.

She glanced around to find her dark beige espadrilles; the shoes she could walk easiest in. Sitting on her bench in her bathroom, she pulled on the outdated sandals, wrapping the ribbons around her ankles and finally tying them. Standing, she surveyed her outfit. The white jersey halter dress still fit her great, but as her gaze moved lower, her breath hitched.

The clunky espadrilles looked horrid!

In earlier times, she’d have slid on her gorgeous beige, open-toed pumps or strappy high-heeled sandals. Tears invaded her eyes and she swiped at them. Blindly stepping toward the long mirror, she tripped. When her face smacked the glass surface, frustration seeped into her very soul.

Sobbing, she brought both forearms against the mirror and rested her left cheek against her arm to soften the sting of slapping the mirror.

How a person’s fate can change in a blink of an eye.

She straightened and pushed away from the mirror. The evidence of her sorrow still clung to the glass. Her tears slowly streaked to the floor.

She couldn’t change her life.

She couldn’t change anything about how things turned out.

The only thing she could do was adjust.

Grabbing her beige shawl with the fringe, she walked to the garage. It was time to move on. She was only thirty-five-years old, yet she felt sixty at times.

Bone tired. Would it ever get any better? At least she had her two children. Oh yeah, she snorted, when they were talking to her, that is. Easing open the door to her car, she plopped her small purse in the passenger seat. Time to be social again. No more moping around. Who knows? Maybe she’d meet someone at Sophia’s little soiree.

R
yder lifted his eyebrows and glanced around as he approached Sophia Edgington’s house. Or he supposed, it could be classified as a mansion. The parking hadn’t overflowed to the curb in front of her spread yet.

Aw hell, am I early?

Swearing under his breath, he pulled his black Jeep right into Sophia’s driveway. He flipped over his wrist and glared at his watch. He’d thought he timed it perfect.

Seven-thirty.

A half an hour after the drinks started dispensing, yet almost time for chow. Mentally putting a positive spin on finding a decent place to park, he figured this was a sign from above that tonight wouldn’t be as painful as he’d imagined.

Being a business owner, he realized he needed to get out more to network and promote his company, but damned if he had to like it. He had to admit though; he loved the security business. He’d felt a sense of pride that he could protect people with his expertise. The United States Army Rangers trained him well the ten years he’d served with his elite unit. He’d missed the guys in his eleven-man regiment, and he still kept in contact with most of the men. The small close-knit team of Rangers were like brothers to him. Working together all of those years, forged a camaraderie that was hard to break.

When he met with clients to give them his estimate and advice on security issues, he’d put all of his senses and training into what he saw and heard. Ryder’s main objective was precaution, or really protecting the innocents. What he’d seen in his life so far would make most people’s toes curl. There was just blatant evil out there in the world, and sometimes it landed on your doorstep.

That was his mission; safeguarding the innocents. He loved being an Army Ranger, but
man,
the cold-bloodedness of many of his missions finally took its toll. When it came time to re-enlist again, he stood back and looked at where he was in his life. What he did for a living left no room for a wife, family, or a relationship. He was on constant stand-by, always awaiting his orders, never knowing where he was headed or the specs of the mission until it was ready to go. It hit him as he was ready to re-up again and thought
what if
?

What if he found a woman, and they had a few kids? Could he handle that? More importantly, was he ready for that type of commitment? It turned out he was. Hell, he loved his brother Rangers, but he was ready for a woman of his own; for a life of his own.

And here it was, smacking him in the face. He grunted.
Socializing.
Putting himself out there to find someone to share his life with. That’s why he needed to do this―attending dinner parties. How else would he meet someone?

He’d thought for sure he’d have to park a block or two away. When Sophia said she was having a small party previously, it was over one hundred people. It was when he’d first met her, and he’d stupidly attended. That was the night he learned about Sophia Edgington, the hard way. She was loaded with money, acquaintances, and experience.

As he ambled up the drive to her front door, he wondered if tonight it would be any different. Lights illuminated behind him as he reached the entrance. When car beams veered into the driveway next to his car, he paused to see who it was. A small silver sedan, a Nissan, it looked like, pulled into the driveway. The beating of music inside the car came to an abrupt halt as the Nissan slid up next to his Jeep. He hadn’t yet knocked on Sophia’s front door and for some unknown reason, he stood watching and waited.

Finally the car door opened, awkwardly, he noted. It wasn’t the smooth push of the left hand, but a burst of power then a clanking of metal banged against something solid.

“Oh Crap!” he heard a soft feminine voice quietly say as more clatter shot out of the darkness. Wondering what the situation was, Ryder quietly walked back to the car that had just arrived. He wanted to help if something was amiss. As he approached the vehicle, he saw a well-shaped leg push out of the driver’s seat. So curvy it looked like a runner’s leg and his gaze followed the rest of the body emerging. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the slim glint of metal up against the door.

“Ryder!” When he heard his name, he turned sharply. It was Sophia striding toward him.
Shit!
Her shrill voice made him lose his attention on the nice looking figure that just drove up, damn woman.

“
Oooh,
how nice, you’ve both arrived! Ryder and Amanda, I don’t think I’ve seen more perfect timing.” Sophia walked to Ryder and looped her arm in his and turned back to the silver Nissan. When he turned around, his gaze zeroed in on the woman who arrived in the sedan. Her hair was pulled up in a knot just above her nape and her white dress fit her slim body to perfection. After he took in her figure, he looked up and caught a shy smile forming on her delicate features.