Safe Harbor. Hope White
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of a social life since he moved back to Waverly Harbor. At least the sweatshirts would come in handy.
Alex scanned the lot, then pulled off his shirt and undershirt, and yanked the thick cotton sweatshirt over his head. He sensed Nicole needed a moment alone after exposing her past to Alex. He reached into his gym bag for a pair of sweatpants.
“Detective Donovan!” Dr. Wendell waved frantically from the building. “Hurry!”
He slammed the door and took off, panic spiraling in his chest. Had something happened to Nicole? Did she pass out again? Stop breathing?
“What—”
“He claimed he was FBI,” she interrupted. “He took her out the back door.”
Alex tossed the spare sweatshirt and pants on a chair as he rushed down the hall. What was the agent thinking, dragging her out against her will? Because Alex was pretty sure she wouldn’t have gone willingly without checking with him first.
He shoved open the back door and spotted Nicole struggling against a tall, bald man who was trying to shove her into an SUV. Alex had made a promise not to let anything happen to her and he’d blown it. Again.
“Hey!” Alex shouted.
The guy let go of Nicole with such force that she stumbled and lost her balance. Alex tried getting to her before she hit the ground but failed.
The agent used his temporary distraction to jump in the SUV. He peeled out of the parking lot as Alex kneeled beside Nicole. He touched her shoulder but she fought him, swinging her fisted hands against his chest. Or maybe it was somebody else she fought. Her eyes were pinched shut; guttural sounds vibrated against her throat as if she were reliving what just happened.
Or something worse.
My father beat us....
“Nicole, open your eyes,” Alex said, removing his hand from her shoulder. Maybe touching her kept her imprisoned in the nightmare. “It’s me, Detective Donovan, remember? You’re safe. No one’s going to hurt you.”
Breathing heavy, hands fisted against his chest, she blinked a few times and looked into his eyes with a confused and lost expression. He tried to crack a slight smile to let her know she was okay, that the danger was gone.
That she was safe.
Suddenly she whipped her head around, scanning the parking lot as if remembering what happened. When she finally refocused on Alex, he put up his hands and nodded, silently asking permission to touch her again.
She collapsed against his chest and gripped his sweatshirt with trembling fingers. This time they were not trembling from exposure to the frigid lake, but from the trauma of nearly being taken against her will.
Wrapping his arms around her, he held her close as she coughed and sobbed for a few painfully long minutes. The adrenaline rush alone of what happened to this woman in the past two hours would crack the toughest of men.
“It’s okay.” He stroked her still damp hair, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt.
An FBI agent just tried to take her out of the medical center against her will? What, to earn gold stars with his boss? Then again, maybe he wasn’t FBI.
If not FBI then who was he? If it was the killer how did he know where to find her, and why risk exposing his identity? Nicole and the doctor had seen his face and could give a description.
Alex had another thought: if the guy wanted to silence Nicole why not just kill her in the parking lot?
Something was off here. Seriously off.
“We need to get out of here,” he whispered against her ear. “Can you stand?”
“Yeah.”
He stood slowly, helping her to her feet. She clung to his sweatshirt as he led her back into the medical center.
“Is she okay?” Dr. Wendell asked.
“I think so.” Alex shut the back door to the clinic. “Can you give Nicole another once-over? She may have hit her head on the pavement.”
“No, I’m okay.” Nicole looked up with pleading eyes. “Can we go? Please?”
He glanced at the doctor.
“It’s okay. But watch her.”
“I plan to.” Alex guided her through the medical center, ignoring the stares of curious staff members and patients. Luckily it was a slow night so there weren’t a lot of witnesses to the near abduction, but that wouldn’t stop the gossip mill from buzzing.
“Here,” Lacy Dunne, the receptionist, handed Alex the spare sweatshirt and pants he’d grabbed from the truck. He didn’t even remember dropping them.
“Thanks.” He took the sweatshirt and turned to Nicole. “Let’s get this on you.”
She stared at her hand, gripping his sweatshirt, but didn’t unclench her fingers. He sensed that residual fear paralyzed her.
The medical center went oddly quiet and although he knew they had an audience he didn’t care. Alex placed his hand over Nicole’s and slowly uncurled her death grip.
“You’re okay,” he assured.
“You said that before,” she whispered.
Guilt tore through him. He should have been there for Nicole.
Just like he should have been there for Jessica.
“You’re right,” he said. “But I’m here now. Nothing’s going to happen to you as long as I’m close and I’m not going anywhere. Arms up.”
Staring blindly at his chest she raised her arms. He slipped on the sweatshirt and reached around to lift her hair out of the back.
“I can do it,” she said.
He lowered his hands and waited until she freed her hair from the sweatshirt. She nodded that she was ready to go just as Dr. Wendell brought over Nicole’s messenger bag. “Thanks,” Nicole said.
Cupping her elbow he led her out the front of the medical center hoping that he could be true to his word and keep her safe.
* * *
The minute Alex and Nicole set foot inside the inn, the nurturing Mrs. Cavendish made them feel welcome, offering food and warm beverages. Since Nicole felt comfortable around the older woman, Alex took the opportunity to slip into the bathroom and change out of his wet jeans into the dry sweatpants. He returned quickly to the kitchen, afraid to leave Nicole’s side for long.
Alex suspected Mrs. Cavendish had heard about Nicole’s situation, but you couldn’t tell by the way the innkeeper was acting. She casually brewed Nicole a cup of decaffeinated tea, served it with a chicken salad sandwich and cookies, and sat at the table chatting with Nicole about the breakfast schedule, the locked door policy and afternoon chocolate tasting on Wednesdays and Saturdays. Mrs. C. was doing her best to act as if Nicole was her average guest yet Alex was sure Chief Roth had called ahead to let her know she had someone special staying at her inn.
Special. Yep, that’s the word Alex would use to describe Nicole, and not only because she was a witness to murder. There were many things that made her special, none of which Alex would allow himself to fully appreciate. That would be inappropriate on so many levels.
As Nicole nibbled on her sandwich, Alex leaned against the counter and eyed the window. The Feds would probably show up soon and demand to take her into custody. Their main motive wouldn’t be to protect her as much as to get information out of her.
Alex glanced at Nicole, thankful that she seemed comfortable at the inn. It was a warm and welcoming refuge. He’d realized that last year when he’d investigated the break-in of Mrs. C.’s garage that turned out to be kids getting into mischief.
She’d been so grateful to have her boxes of collectibles returned that