TWO

      As they neared the Premier Gallery, Jennie looked down at her feet.

      Right. Left. Repeat. Focus. Keep moving. Stop thinking. Don’t dwell on the trashed gallery or the message or Ethan. Definitely not Ethan.

       She felt him next to her as if they were connected. His strength and confidence giving her hope that this would end soon. And if it didn’t, that he’d be there for her. He’d already put his life on the line for her, circling his arms around her, bearing the brunt of injury, but now that all the unresolved issues of their past and the painful way they’d once parted came rushing back, she wished he’d go away.

       What kind of person was she to want him gone when he was willing to sacrifice his life for her?

       A scared person, that’s what. Scared of this threat against her life. Scared of the way her heart beat quicker in his presence. Scared of caving in to her fear of this lunatic and failing the children.

      A clue, Lord, just give me a clue what to do here. How to act. How to survive. You’ve brought me through some crazy times in the past. I need You to do the same thing now.

       “Are you sure you’re up to seeing this?” Ethan clasped the gallery’s door handle.

       “I have to see it sometime, right?”

       “Madeline’s already told you what happened. We could come back after she’s had a chance to clean up.”

       “No,” she said, surprised at the strength in her voice. “I can’t run away from this.”

       He watched her for a few moments, his eyes searching until he seemed to shake off his thoughts and opened the door.

       She stepped inside and came to a stop. A caustic paint odor saturated the narrow room where she’d once found comfort. Now order had turned to chaos. Shards of glass, mangled frames and torn photos littered the rough brick floor. Black-and-white. Color. It made no difference. This creep had ripped her photos of children from the wall without a care.

       She could feel the vandal’s presence. Strong and threatening, like on the train. She saw him, standing here in the dim light of night, shredding the pictures and tossing them around like bits of confetti. Then moving to the wall. His arms sweeping in big, powerful strokes, anger seething from his face and vibrating through his hands as the spray can spit out his message.

       OPEN THE SHOW AND YOU DIE!

       She stared at it. Expected fear to rise up again, but anger boiled up instead. How dare he do this to Photos of Hope! The funds from the sale of those pictures were supposed to help children. Starving children. Sick children.

       “Jennifer, there you are,” gallery owner Madeline St. James called out as she hurried toward them. She wore a deep fuchsia pantsuit that didn’t hide the fashionably thin woman’s hard angles. “Are you all right?”

       “I’m fine.”

       “Don’t worry about the mess.” Madeline waved a hand in the air as if the destruction was of no consequence to her. “The police have just given me the go-ahead to clean up. I’m phoning staff members to come in this afternoon. We’ll have this place righted in no time and open the show on schedule.”

       “I appreciate your hard work, Madeline,” Jennie said, but Madeline was already turning toward Ethan.

       “And you, Ethan?” She pointed at his arm. “That looks like a nasty injury.”

       “It’s nothing. We’re both fine.” His reassuring tone gave Jennie hope that he had everything under control.

       “I trust you’re still on board with the protection details we discussed earlier.” Madeline raised a thin eyebrow.

       “Yes,” Ethan answered, but he didn’t look enthusiastic about it.

       “You don’t sound very convincing.”

       “Like I told you before, I don’t have to personally see to Jennie’s detail. Everyone at the firm is capable of handling it.”

       Madeline patted his good arm, diamond rings glinting in the spotlight. “I dearly love all of your brothers and sisters, Ethan, but none of them have the extensive background you have, now do they?”

       “They may not have as many years in the law-enforcement game, but they’re pros.”

       “You know me, Ethan. I hire only the best, and as I’ve told you repeatedly, you’re the best.” Her lips tipped in a slight smile. “You’re not planning on disappointing me, are you?”

       “No,” he said, reluctance still in his tone.

       Jennie wasn’t surprised at Madeline’s stance. Jennie had encountered similar stubbornness while planning this show with Madeline. When the woman made up her mind about something, there was no point in arguing. She always got her way.

       “Fine, then if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get back to work.” She made a sharp pivot on spiked heels and headed for the back of the gallery.

       Jennie saw Ethan fist his hands. He clearly didn’t want to be with her. The sooner they got to the bottom of all of this, the sooner he would be on his way.

       Sucking in a reedy breath, she squatted down to pick through tattered photos, searching for anything left intact.

       “I don’t know how anyone could do this,” she said to Ethan as he hovered over her like a solicitous parent. “Without the money from the fundraiser, many of the children we help could die.”

       “Then we need to make sure that doesn’t happen.” He sounded so confident and sure. “And we’ll start by figuring out who did this.”

      “This?” She gestured at the devastation surrounding her. “This makes no sense. How do we even begin to figure it out?”

       “We take things one step at a time.” His voice remained calm and even.

       How could he be so levelheaded when chaos surrounded them? When they were back together after all these years?

       “You mentioned seeing your attacker through your camera,” he went on. “Did you take any pictures of him?”

       “Several.”

       “Good. We can run them through facial-recognition software to see if he’s in the database. If he is, we’ll have his ID in less than an hour.”

       “I hate that people like this guy are willing to destroy things intended to do so much good.” She stood, putting distance between her and the picture scraps.

       “This isn’t about destruction, Jen. It’s about stopping the show.” He paused and watched her as if waiting for his comment to settle in.

       “What I don’t get is why. I mean, why trash this place and why try to take my camera?”

       “I doubt this guy followed you all that way simply to steal your camera.”

       “So why’d he try it, then?”

       “I think he’s after a memory card and he thought it would be in the bag.”

       She looked at him, eyebrow raised, and waited for an explanation.

       “Look,” he said. “A crime like this one is often financially motivated, but no one stands to make money if the show doesn’t open.