Just Past Midnight. Amanda Stevens
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was the one who had saved her. Yes, she was finally safe. Her family was safe. She didn’t just have a new name, she had a new career, a whole new life. The inheritance from Michael had allowed her to start over, and she’d used it to buy herself security.
When she’d first moved to Houston, she’d selected her town house because the complex was ensconced behind eight-foot walls, and both cameras and guards monitored the electronic security gate around the clock. No one could get in without proper authorization.
Darian had chosen her particular home because it was wedged between two other units, and she liked knowing who was on either side of her. And for the past five years, she’d had the same neighbors—to the right, the Lindermanns, a young, professional couple, and to her left, Mr. Delgado, a retired oil executive.
Darian hadn’t gotten to know the Lindermanns or Mr. Delgado well, but she’d been comforted by their presence. Then, a few weeks ago, Mr. Delgado had decided to move to Phoenix to be near his daughter. He’d left abruptly, and now his empty town house made Darian uneasy.
Slipping out of bed, she stole across the room and eased into the hallway to check the upstairs control panel on her security system—just as she had countless times on countless sleepless nights.
Reassured that it was set and working, she returned to the bedroom and walked over to the window to glance out, reminding herself that this was one of the safest areas of the city.
But as Darian drew back the curtain, she gasped. A man stood across the street, smoking underneath a streetlight.
What was he doing out there? she wondered in panic. It was a little late for someone to be out for a stroll or even to be walking a dog.
As Darian watched, the man lifted his cigarette, took a long drag, then threw the butt to the pavement and ground it beneath his foot. There was something familiar about that action. Something…symbolic…
She put a hand to her mouth. Did she know him? Had she seen him do that before?
He tilted his head slightly, as if staring up at her window, and Darian jerked away, letting the curtain fall back into place.
Thoroughly unnerved now, she wondered if she should call the front gate and alert the guard of the man’s presence. But…he wasn’t doing anything illegal, and besides, he had to be a resident of the community or he would never have been allowed inside the gate.
She had nothing to worry about. Nothing to be afraid of. Not even her own family knew where she was. She was perfectly safe here.
Still, Darian had an almost overwhelming need to connect with someone who could reassure her. Someone who wouldn’t ask a lot of questions.
Opening her nightstand drawer, she removed the disposable phone she’d purchased several days ago. The throw-away wasn’t as anonymous as using a calling card at a pay phone, but it was a lot more difficult to trace than a landline or a regular cell phone.
Punching in her brother’s phone number, she waited through several rings before he finally picked up. It was the dead of night, but he sounded wide awake when he answered.
“It’s me,” Darian said softly.
“Dani?”
“Don’t call me that.”
She heard a muffled voice, then a second later, a door closed in the background. Evidently her brother wasn’t alone.
As if to confirm her poor timing, Nathan said impatiently, “What the hell am I supposed to call you? You won’t tell me your new name or where you live. I can’t even get in touch with you if there’s an emergency. I’m at the mercy of your calls, which are damn few.”
Darian sighed. “We’ve been through this, Nathan. You know why I can’t tell you where I am.”
“Because you think my phone could be bugged or the call could somehow be traced. That’s why I gave you my cell phone number.”
“Cell phones can be monitored.”
“Do you know how paranoid that sounds?”
“Of course I do. And do you have any idea how nightmarish it is to know that two people died because they loved me? Because—”
“Someone else wants you,” Nathan finished. “So badly he’ll kill to make sure no one else has you.”
Darian was still trembling from the dream. She slid out of bed and walked back over to the window. Parting the curtain, she peered out. The man was gone.
“Are you still there?” Her brother’s voice sounded so strong he might have been in the next room.
“Yes, I’m here.”
“So why did you call, Dani?” He said her name almost defiantly.
She closed her eyes. Her brother’s lingering resentment was still something she didn’t understand. “I’m…lonely, I guess.”
“Then come home.”
“You know I can’t do that.”
“Yes, you can. Come home and we’ll go to the police together. We’ll make them listen.”
“It wouldn’t do any good,” Darian said. “I tried that before, remember? They didn’t believe me when Paul died, and they won’t believe me now. He’s seen to that.”
Nathan’s voice hardened. “Has it ever occurred to you that your little disappearing act only makes you look guiltier? Maybe that was part of his plan, too.”
Darian closed her eyes briefly. “It doesn’t matter. He can’t find me here. And as long as I’m out of the picture, Mother and Dad are safe. And so are you.”
Nathan said nothing for a moment, and in the ensuing silence, Darian heard another door open and close somewhere in his house. Then a whisper. Someone had come back into the room with him. Someone who was trying very hard not to make her presence known.
“I’ve interrupted something,” she murmured. “I should let you go.”
“No, no, I was up. I do my best work after midnight.”
Darian climbed back into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. “So how was the latest exhibit?”
“Not bad. I sold four paintings, and the gallery has commissioned a dozen more.”
“Nathan, that’s wonderful.” Darian was still astonished by the way her brother had turned his life around. The troubled young man who’d dropped out of college at nineteen, who’d refused back then to even consider his future, was on the verge of becoming a phenomenon in the art world. Dani had even read a write-up about him in Art in America.
She had to admit that at times she envied him. She’d once wanted to be a journalist more than anything in the world, but she’d had to give up that dream when she disappeared. Dr. Gaines had advised her that the first thing her stalker would look for was her professional affiliations.
“I’d offer to send you a painting, but you’d have to give me your address. And you can’t do that, can you?”
“No.” Darian didn’t mention the fact that she’d already acquired one of Nathan’s paintings. She’d bought it from a local gallery, but she couldn’t tell him because that knowledge might give him a clue to her location.
Sometimes all the deception and subterfuge got to her, but she always tried to keep in mind that her isolation wasn’t just for her own protection, but for her family’s, as well.
“I’m sorry, Nathan.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. I understand.”
“Do you?”
“Yes, of course, but it’s still hard. Especially on Mother.” He sighed. “I drove out to see her the other day.”
“How is