Love Inspired Suspense July 2015 #1 (4 page)

“I want you to stay put for right now, understand?”

“No. I told you. I have to leave.”

“Not in that car, you don't.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder to indicate her sedan. “I've notified local police. I'm going back outside with my dog to guard the scene until the regular officers relieve me. After that, we can go wherever you want.”

“Police? What are they for? I already told you...”

“I don't care what you did or who's after you, lady. Pull yourself together and listen to me. My dog sensed a problem in or around your car, and nobody is going to touch it until the bomb squad has had a chance to look it over. Am I clear?”

She wanted to answer verbally but her body refused to cooperate. There was no breathable air in the apartment. The walls were closing in on her.

She staggered back until she felt her legs contact the front edge of the sofa cushions, then plopped down on them with a whoosh. Her jaw hung slack. Her eyes refused to focus properly. This was even worse than she'd imagined. If Isaac Black had not arrived at just the right moment, she'd have gotten into her car, just as her mother had, and then...

Tears gathered in Daniella's eyes and spilled silently down her cheeks. Her voice was thready. “Are—are you sure?”

“No. But Abby is and that's good enough for me. Now, stay put and let me take care of everything.” He drew the living room blinds while his sweet-tempered dog wagged her tail and licked Daniella's fingers.

When he returned and gathered up the leash, he paused with one hand on the doorknob. “Lock this after me.”

Her “Okay” was little more than a weak whisper, but at the moment she couldn't manage anything more forceful.

“It'll be all right,” Isaac assured her. “Just sit tight and don't move.”

“Can I pack a few things?”

“No!” was almost a shout. “Listen carefully. We know that couch is safe because Abby didn't react to it, but I don't want you wandering around in here until I've had a chance to let her explore every room.”

“You—you think there's a bomb in here, too?”

“Probably not. But are you willing to take the chance?”

“No. Of course not.” She whisked away her tears with the back of her hand.

“Good. Now you're being sensible.”

The door closed quietly behind the K-9 officer. Daniella twisted the dead bolt, listening to its click for added assurance. She was safe, at least for the present.

The fortuitous arrival of Isaac and his remarkable dog still amazed her. Could God have somehow spurred him to make this impromptu visit?

She shook her head, clenching her jaw tightly.
No.
God might protect innocent people, but she was far from naive. Her lack of initiative had gotten her mother killed, and her foolish choices afterward had sent her into perpetual hiding.

Although she had no trouble praying for others, she'd long ago given up asking the Lord to watch over or guide her.

Ella Fagan, aka Daniella Dunne, didn't deserve God's love or his forgiveness. The most she could hope for was the wisdom to once more escape her father's vendetta.

Her whirling thoughts would not, could not, carry her further than that.

For all she knew, there would be no life beyond the next few days.

FOUR

W
ith local police waiting outside for the bomb squad, Isaac returned to the apartment. When there was no response to his light knock, he rapped harder.

“Who is it?”

“Isaac Black and Abby.”

The moment Daniella opened the door, he smiled. “Good job. I'm glad you're being so careful.”

“Careful?” She made a wry face. “I'm scared to even breathe, thanks to you. Do you really think there's another bomb in here?”

“No, I don't. But letting me and Abby check the apartment while you sit on the couch and stay out of trouble is the smartest choice.”

She shrugged. “Okay.”

His attention now fully on Daniella, Isaac noted that she was wearing jeans and a T-shirt instead of her hospital scrubs. He scowled. “You changed clothes since your shift?”

“Yes, after I got home this morning and showered. Since I was so wide-awake I was planning to run a few errands before taking a nap. I'm almost out of cat food.”

“You've already been in the bedroom?”

“Yes.” He saw her blanch as reality grew.

“All right. How many cats do you have?”

“Just one. Puddy is black with long hair.” She eyed Abby. “Don't let your dog scare him. He doesn't have all his claws.”

“I'll keep Abs on a leash.” Isaac started for the closest room, the kitchen, noting that it led to a hallway. “This will only take a few minutes. If she doesn't react we'll be right back.”

“What if she does?”

“If she does, then we'll both go out the front door and I'll have the bomb squad come in here, too.”

“Terrific.” Daniella made a silly face.

Isaac had to smile again. “It's good to see that your sarcastic side is still operational.”

“It's a coping mechanism a lot of nurses have, I guess.”

“So do cops. Civilians don't usually understand how much it helps us when we have to deal with crime and loss so often.”

It was clear from the expression on her face that Daniella understood perfectly. Whatever her full background was, she was a sensible and, he hoped, a reasonably stable person. Why that should be important to him was somewhat of a puzzle. Logically, however, she needed a temporary safe house, and he had plenty of extra room on the old farm. Unless Captain McCord came up with some heinous crimes in her past, there should be no reason why he couldn't take her home with him, at least for now. His sister might even have some clothes that would fit her and perhaps change her image enough that she'd be less easily spotted by whoever was menacing her.

His plans were almost fully formed by the time Isaac returned to the living room. “All clear,” he said. “I'm satisfied that there's no danger in this apartment right now. You can go pack but don't take too long. The sooner we get out of here, the better.”

“
We?
Where did that come from?”

“I'm taking you home with me—unless you have a better idea.”

“I can't go with you. Not just like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you don't really know me.”

Isaac smiled wryly. “If I did, should I be afraid of you?”

“Of course not, but...”

“Then it's settled. I'll go put Abby in the SUV, tell the local police what we're doing and be back in a flash. I'll expect you to be ready to leave by then.”

“You're
ordering
me to go with you?”

His smile widened. “No. I'm offering a lifeline to a drowning citizen. You can always swim off into shark-infested waters by yourself if you choose.”

“I see your point. All right,” Daniella said, “but we have to take Puddy. I'm not abandoning him.”

“Do you have a carrier?”

“Yes.”

“Then put him in it and I'll take him, too.”

She began to call, “Puddy? Here kitty, kitty.” There was no response. Not even a faint meow.

The stricken look on her face touched Isaac. “I didn't see him when I searched. Maybe he hid when he spotted Abby. I'll take her outside. Keep calling to him while you're packing. Just try not to sound overly anxious. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Isaac waited until he heard the door lock click into place before heading down the hall. Getting Daniella to agree to leave her apartment had not been too difficult. Getting her to actually go if she couldn't locate her missing cat might prove far more perplexing. For all they knew, whoever had placed the bomb by the car might have also let the cat out. Anything was possible.

At present, his fondest hope was that the frightened feline would show up.

* * *

Daniella was frantic. She faced Isaac, eyes wide, short of breath. “I can't find him. He's not here!”

“Was the door locked when you got home?”

“Of course it was.” She frowned. “At least I think so. I was so tired I really didn't pay much attention.”

“You weren't scared at that point. So what set you off before I got here?”

Although she hated to answer, she felt she owed him a little more information. “I got a threatening phone call,” she said, continuing to search for Puddy while she talked.

Isaac followed her. “Maybe it was a prank.”

She shook her head so dramatically her hair brushed against each cheek in turn. “No way. This was for real.”

“You know who called?”

“Yes. What I can't figure out is how he managed to get my number so fast. I was only on the news a few hours ago.” She explained about seeing herself on TV as part of the coverage about the bombing.

“Maybe he saw you and hacked into the hospital's personnel files.”

“I suppose that's possible.”

Studying the officer, she could tell he was thinking as various expressions flashed across his face.

“All right,” Isaac finally said. “Here's what I know. There is no record of you before you entered college. No high school or grammar school transcripts. Nothing. That means you're either a criminal on the run or a witness who was given a new identity. My guess would be the witness.”

Without giving it much conscious thought, she nodded and lowered her gaze, unwilling to meet his directly.

“So why are you acting guilty?”

“Because my family is involved in the whole mess.”

“Criminally?”

“Not my mother. She was an innocent victim. My father murdered her.”

She heard him draw a quick breath. “And you saw it happen?”

Another nod. She blinked back unshed tears as she raised her face to look at him, hoping to see neither condemnation nor pity. His expression was more quizzical than anything, so she explained further.

“My dad was doing business with some very bad people, drug dealers and hardened criminals. Mom wanted to leave him, we both did, but I was in my teens and I kept hesitating, hoping there was some spark of good left in him.”

“That's understandable. He was your father and you were still a kid. You didn't want him to be evil.”

“Exactly.” She sniffled and continued while peering behind the sofa for the cat. “It was a sunny Sunday afternoon when everything came to a head. Mom told him we were both going to leave for keeps. She started to get into her car. I should have been with her but Dad sent me back into the house to bring him something. I never dreamed he'd already...”

“He saved your life?”

“Yes. But he took hers. The authorities proved he'd rigged an explosive device under her car. I wasn't allowed in court until it was my turn to testify so I don't know whether it was set to go off when she got behind the wheel or if he set it off remotely.”

“You testified against him,” Isaac said. It was not a question.

Daniella nodded slowly, purposely. “Yes. I had to. A man like that didn't deserve to walk the streets.”

“And now you wonder if he might have been released?”

She shrugged. “I can't believe that's possible. Not yet, anyway. I'd rather think he hired someone to terrorize me in his place—except for the fact I recognized his voice on the phone.”

“Let's start by finding out for sure where he is. Keep looking for the cat. I'll be right here,” he told her, pulling his cell from his pocket and pushing a preprogrammed number. “Give me his full name.”

She barely managed to whisper it.

As she worked her way back into the bedroom to search the closet once more, she heard Isaac say, “I need to check on a convict. Terence R. Fagan. If he's been released we need to locate him. Fast.”

Daniella paused for a deep, telling sigh. The urge to pray that God would intervene and save her by somehow eliminating her father was strong. And wrong, she knew, yet the disturbing thoughts continued to whirl through her mind. She should be praying for the faith and strength to forgive him, to show him the kind of pure love Jesus demonstrated.

Truth was, she was a long way from that degree of forgiveness and there was no way she'd be able to pray and ask such a thing, not even if her father came to her on his knees and begged.

Surely God understood, she concluded, realizing almost immediately that she was violating one of the important yet simple instructions in the Lord's Prayer.

To be forgiven she must first forgive.

Clenching her jaw and her fists, Daniella refused. There was no way she was ever going to get over what that terrible man had done.

Her broken, battered heart wouldn't allow it.

* * *

The news Isaac received in the ensuing few minutes floored him. Terence Fagan had won early release on a technicality and had been roaming the streets for several years. Whether or not he might have located his daughter before her TV news appearance was a moot point. Circumstances seemed to point to a real, present danger. That was all that mattered. The details would eventually sort themselves out.

“Ms. Dunne,” Isaac called as soon as he'd ended his phone conversation. “Come on. We have to go. There's no time to waste.”

She poked her head around the corner into the kitchen. “I can't go yet. I'm not leaving without Puddy.”

“Yes, you are.”

The mist filling her eyes made them glisten like jewels in the rain. “No. Please. I know he's here. He has to be.”

“Unless someone let him out while they were trying to break in.” Isaac saw little chance of that but persisted. “Why don't you leave dishes of food and water in the usual place in here, then put others in the hallway, just in case? I'll either stop by to check or have members of my team do it. Puddy will show up as soon as he gets hungry enough. The problem is, you can't stay here and wait for that to happen.”

She stared at him, her hands trembling.

He approached her slowly, hoping to keep her as calm as possible when he delivered the bad news. Stopping an arm's length from her, he looked deeply into her eyes, willing her to continue to trust him, at least enough to heed his sage advice.

Her eyes widened. “What are you not telling me?”

“That call I just made? It was to our tech support. Terence Fagan has been out of prison for several years.”

“That's impossible!”

Isaac lightly cupped her elbow to steady her. “I'm sorry. It's true. His appeal was granted on a technicality.”

She swayed as if dizzy, so he continued to hold her arm, just in case. “No. Your information must be wrong.”

“Sorry. Our Fiona Fargo is the best computer tech in the business. If she says your father has been released, he has been.”

“Why wasn't I told?”

“I don't know. When you get in touch with the marshals' office to arrange to be moved, you can ask them. It was probably an oversight.”

“Oversight? This is my
life
we're talking about.”

Isaac nodded soberly. “I'm glad you realize that.” He let go and opened her cupboards to locate usable dishes. “Will these do for your cat?”

She barely nodded.

“Okay. I'll fill one with water and you put dry food in the other so we can be on our way.”

This time she not only didn't argue, she moved to comply as if in a stupor. That state of mind wasn't any better for her than her earlier panic, although it did make his current task easier.

Until they could coordinate with the US Marshals office in DC, his best option would be to take her home with him, as he'd already been planning.

There was more than one good reason for that choice, too. His injured leg was starting to really throb and the sooner he was free to take his prescribed medication the better he'd feel.

Reasoning that a nurse would be sympathetic and therefore more compliant, he decided to tell her. “Listen, I hate to mention this but I'm starting to feel awfully sore. I couldn't chance taking my morning meds and getting behind the wheel of a motor vehicle so I haven't had any painkillers since what you gave me last night.”

That snapped her out of her doldrums enough to frown and caution, “You should have kept up with them. It's not just for comfort, you know. Controlling pain will help you heal faster. Plus, one of those scripts was for oral antibiotics.”

“Afraid I didn't stop to look,” Isaac admitted. “When my captain called me, I didn't question his reasons.”

“What was he
thinking
? You're injured.”

Isaac chanced a slight smile. “Actually, it was my decision. He told me he was worried because there was no record of your past and wanted to confer with me.”

“That's a lame excuse if I've ever heard one,” Daniella said. Hoisting a bulging tote bag, she sighed as she started for the door. “I won't be responsible if you develop an infection. Let's go.”

Following her out the apartment door and waiting while she carefully relocked it, Isaac couldn't help feeling relieved and more than a little glad. She was finally thinking more clearly. That was a definite plus.