Название | Share the Darkness |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Jill Monroe |
Жанр | Современные любовные романы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Современные любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn |
“You’re going to have a heck of a time proving this one innocent.”
“What are you talking about? I’m here to find the bad guy and put him or her in jail.”
“Yeah. Sure. Just keep telling yourself that. It may actually help for a while. But I recognize the signs. It’s benched many a great agent.”
THAT FELT GOOD. Hannah had never turned the tables on someone before, and seeing Ward Coleman drop his pen at her feet…it was almost worth the intrusion on her Saturday.
She opened her desk drawer, pulled the rewritable CD from its sleeve and stuck it into the computer. With a few clicks of her mouse, the backup process began. With the expected lulls in power, this particular backup was crucial. She snapped open the top of her diet cola, retrieved the book from her purse and began to read.
Hard work indeed.
Her thoughts kept drifting back to Ward. She closed the book on her thumb and stared at the cover picture. The hero of the book was a pirate. He possessed Ward’s green eyes and blond hair, and strong jaw. Was that why she’d bought the romantic pirate story? Did she see Ward in the brave man pictured on the cover?
Of course not. She simply found herself sexually attracted to him. It was natural. She was a grown woman who’d denied herself for a long time. An unsteady desire settled in her as she remembered Ward looking into her eyes. For a brief moment, she’d been tempted. The pull of his attraction had her melting faster than an ice cream in the Gallem sun.
Ward no. Pirate yes. And she opened her book.
The pager at her waist vibrated as the pirate in her book hoisted the heroine into his arms. Her fingers shook as she replaced the bookmark and set the book on her desk.
No one except her boss at P&L or the server had her pager number. No one except her contacts.
She ripped the black standard-issue pager from her skirt. She didn’t recognize the number, but an asterisk blinked as the last character on the miniscreen.
The symbol for danger.
Using the private phone in her office could prove too risky. Anyone at the switchboard would be able to see the flashing light of her line and know it was in use. Then there was the possibility of someone listening in….
With trembling legs, she grabbed her purse and walked toward the fire stairwell. Once the door slammed behind her, she sprinted down three flights. From her previous scouting, she knew no one milled about on a Saturday on this floor housing law offices. The attorneys had installed a pay phone near the public restroom to prevent clients from asking to make personal calls.
Hannah found her change, inserted it into the phone and punched in the number. She’d gone through this drill before, but her nerves never got any better.
The person on the other end answered the line on the first ring. “Code?”
“726418,” she recited. Hannah knew that code number the way others knew the digits of their social security number.
“Kyle Barton escaped from prison this morning.”
Gasping, Hannah nearly dropped the receiver. Her stomach quaked, and she gulped several breaths to keep from losing her breakfast.
The date. The longest day of the year. The day that started it all. Of course this would be the day Kyle made a break for freedom. He’d see the irony and run with it. Why had she mocked it earlier? Dared the calendar to mean anything. He’d always find her. Kyle had promised that after the police had placed the cuffs on his hands and escorted him from the courtroom. He’d find her just as surely as day following night. It was her destiny. As it was his.
Okay, stop it. There was no such thing as destiny. That was the kind of stuff Kyle had said to an impressionable girl just wanting to please. Be practical.
A dozen questions came to mind. How had he escaped? Why hadn’t he been restrained? She sucked in a breath, and shrank into the shadows.
“There’s no reason to suspect you’re compromised. What are you doing now?”
“Backing up the computers. I do it every Saturday. I’m almost done.”
“Good. Keep with your routine. Finish up and go home. Don’t draw any attention to yourself. You know the routine.”
Yeah, she knew the routine.
“Marshals are tracking him right now, but we want you to lie low. Do you have some sick days coming?”
“Yes,” she answered, her voice as scratchy as sandpaper. But she knew. He’d find her. He always did.
“Good. Take the days and get out of sight. Fly below the radar. If I call again, it’s to give you the address of a safe house. If he’s captured, you’ll see it on TV.” Her contact hung up.
Hannah replaced the receiver, and checked for the weapon in her purse. She carried a Taser. Even though she would have preferred her gun, no one thought anything of a single woman with a Taser in her purse.
The man who had vowed to see her dead was free.
Hurry the night. Safety lay in the shadows.
3
“MS. GARRETT, what are you still doing here?”
Hannah looked up from the computer with a start. It was Frank, the elderly security guard for the sixteen-story building. Not a threat.
Don’t draw any attention to yourself.
She offered what she hoped wasn’t too tentative a smile. “Hi, Frank. Must have lost track of the time. I wanted to back up these hard drives before the power outage.”
“Well, you gotta get out of here. They’re about to blow the horns.”
Darn, she’d forgotten they’d be doing that. This power diversion couldn’t come at a worse time. She glanced at the progress bar. Still at least three minutes until the backup was complete. “I’m about to shut off the computer.”
“Do it quickly. Glad I decided to do one more walk through the building. Found your new security guy here and a doctor down on three.”
“Thanks, Frank. I’ll get out of here now.”
The security guard looked relieved. He must have expected an argument. “Good. They’re gonna blast the tornado sirens as a final warning. If you hear those, you better clear out.”
Those sirens, a necessity in tornado alley where Gallem was located, were only used in extreme cases other than their original use. This electrical shutdown was serious business. She looked at her watch. She was cutting it closer than she liked, but she still had plenty of time to get to her car and drive out of the parking garage.
Finally, the backup was done, and she quickly clicked Shut Down. Hannah waved as Frank hurried off, then grabbed her purse, stuffed in her paperback and snapped it shut. She’d love a quick trip to the ladies’ room to pat a bit of cool water onto her cheeks and behind her neck. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt so hot.
But she wouldn’t risk it. After walking to the lobby, she pressed the elevator button with a relieved jab. Leaving the downtown area this late was a big mistake, but Saturdays were the only time she could back up the server without Protter and Lane losing a lot of money. And with a definite power outage, that backup was a necessity.
The sirens began their slow buildup to a loud warning. She was quite used to alarms warning of tornadoes. The sound never failed to fill her with dread and spurred her to speed up. She checked her watch and eyed the stairwell. According to her watch, she still had five minutes. Hiking down fourteen flights of stairs held little appeal.
The ding of the elevator signaled its arrival, ending her decision. She entered with a grateful quick