Backfire. Elizabeth Goddard
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sniffled and pulled away from him to grab a tissue from the counter. He knew he should be glad to have some distance between them again. It was crazy that he wanted her back in his arms. They burned, his chest burned now, where she’d been pressed against him. The girl was more caustic to protecting his emotions than he realized.
“You don’t understand.” Shaking her head, she moved farther away from him and grabbed a broom and dustpan from a small closet.
David went ahead and picked up the bigger pieces, careful he didn’t cut himself handling the glass.
“Why don’t you tell me, then?”
Tracy swept the glass into the dustpan and disposed of it. Then she pushed her hair away from her face and behind her ears and turned her big eyes on him. “All right. I’ll tell you.”
He didn’t know why, but her willingness to talk startled him. The fact she trusted him with whatever it was made him happy, though it shouldn’t.
“I was surprised to see you at the door, honestly.” She grabbed her cup of coffee and instead of sitting at the table moved to the small sofa, curling her legs under her.
He was surprised he’d come himself, but he wouldn’t tell her about his inner struggles.
Not wanting to sit too close to her, David took the kitty-corner chair. He also took a sip of the black coffee, still trying to regain his composure. She’d been upset and she’d transferred all that to him, it seemed.
“Is it the man who shoved Jay over today that has you upset and scared? Or is there something more?” The question sounded too personal, but he couldn’t think of any other way to say it.
“Yes, there’s more.” Tracy stared into the fire.
David had suspected there could be more going on from the beginning, but hearing her say the words unsettled him.
“I’m listening.”
She dragged her eyes from the fire and studied him. “And that’s why I’m going to tell you. I never thought I’d be talking to you like this. Or telling David Warren, of all people, my troubles.”
What was that supposed to mean? But he swallowed his pride and kept quiet.
“But you showed up at my door, and there is no one else for me to talk to. I’m waiting for a phone call from the only other person I can talk to about this, and she hasn’t come through yet. My family... I can’t tell them what happened today. I don’t want to scare them, worry them.”
“Tell me.”
“I was the key witness in a murder trial.”
David set his cup down on the side table. “You have my attention.”
“Jay’s attacker might be here for me. He might have come to Mountain Cove to kill me.”
* * *
Tracy couldn’t stand to see the stricken look on David’s face. He shoved himself up from the chair and paced the homemade rug in front of the hearth. His sturdy form seemed to further diminish the size of her small cottage.
She rubbed her eyes, hating that she’d lost it with him. For all practical purposes, he might as well have been a stranger. But, no, that wasn’t right, either. She’d known him, just from a distance. And that had all changed today. Why of all people had David Warren come into her life here and now? During this crisis?
“I can’t believe this.” His voice was gruff. “How do you know? How can you be sure? If that’s true, why did he shove Jay and not wait for you to come up the trail? Or why didn’t he shove you when you found Jay?”
David stopped pacing and stared at Tracy. She had a question, too. Why did David care so much? The urgency in his tone made it sound as if he cared like someone deeply connected to Tracy. A father. A brother... A husband. She shook off the thoughts. This was crazy. She needed an ally, but at the same time, David was risking his life by getting involved with her. Maybe she should just refuse his help, his friendship.
Tracy frowned. “I don’t know if I should answer any of your questions. In fact, I don’t think it’s a good idea that you’re here. Being with me only makes you a target. I need to be alone.” If only she wasn’t so desperate. If only she didn’t need someone.
Tracy had moved here to be more isolated, and she’d been wary of making friends until enough time had passed. She had only started growing closer to Jewel, her boss. That had been a mistake. David being here was a mistake, too.
He stalked over and sat next to her on the sofa, too close for comfort. “You’re kidding, right? If there really is a killer after you, you can’t go through this alone. I assume you told the police what you told me?”
She shook her head. “Not...yet.”
He stiffened. “We need to call them.”
“I’ve put a call in to my contact at the US Marshals office. She’ll know if Carlos Santino has escaped prison. That will tell me what I need to know—that he’s out and after me.”
Oh, no. Tracy grabbed her head, fisted her hair. She’d been so focused on Santino’s threat—that he would kill her with his own hands—she hadn’t realized what should have been obvious. Santino’s long arms could reach her from prison via the gang network.
Santino didn’t have to be out of prison to be after her. Still, she had to know if Jennifer knew if something was going on; had to know if Santino had escaped.
“Tell me what Jay said to you that made you think his attacker is after you.”
David’s nearness, the protectiveness pouring off him, was difficult to resist. More than anything, Tracy wanted to feel his arms around her again. She would never forget that moment, but the problem was, she couldn’t afford to dwell on that. To wish for something more with him.
“Carlos Santino is the head of a far-reaching gang and Jay told me the guy who pushed him over had a specific tattoo—it is the tattoo worn by those gang members.”
There. She’d told him everything. Almost. Tracy stood to put space between them and went to the fireplace.
Behind her, she heard nothing at all from David. Maybe he was absorbing it all, which she understood. That could take some time. Or maybe he was contemplating the quickest escape from her and her problems. She wouldn’t blame him for that. She wouldn’t blame him if she heard the door shutting behind her, but she realized that probably wouldn’t happen. If she knew anything about David, it was that he was a solid, trustworthy sort of guy.
Tracy turned to face him then. He was right behind her and she hadn’t realized he’d moved from the sofa.
“Listen,” she said, “I didn’t mean to drag you into this. I won’t hold it against you if you bail.”
“Are you in the witness protection program, Tracy? Is that even your real name?”
A sardonic laugh escaped. “No, I’m not. And, yes, Tracy Murray is my real name. What does it matter? Did you hear anything I just said?”
“Why aren’t you in WITSEC?”
“I chose not to run and hide—well, other than to Alaska.”
“If this guy is so dangerous I think you need to get help and disappear. Let the Marshals office assist you with that.”
Seeing the concern in his eyes, Tracy couldn’t help but smile. “You know, we’re only just getting to know each other and you’re already trying to get rid of me.”
Oh, please, she did not just say that.
He cracked a smile, though only half his face responded.
She liked that look on him.
“I’ll be up-front with you,” he said. “I’d like to get to know you better, but not at the risk of your life. I’m