Threat Of Darkness. Valerie Hansen
Читать онлайн книгу.
“Did you ask that your identity be kept secret when you made your report?”
“Are you joking? In Serenity? Around here, the only difference between normal conversation and deep, dark secrets is how long it takes the news to travel. Besides, considering my reputation and the fact that I was working E.R. that day, there wouldn’t be much doubt where the complaint originated.”
“I suppose you’re right.” John got to his feet, carried his mug to the sink and rinsed it out. “I’d better hit the road. Are you going to be okay if I go?”
“Sure. All I have to do is figure out who wanted me to butt out of their business. Piece of cake.”
He turned and leaned against the edge of the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “I just had a thought.”
“If it means I’ll have to quit defending kids and keep my mouth shut when I see a problem, forget it.”
“Nothing of the kind. I was just thinking about maybe keeping an eye on Danny and his family—in a casual way, of course.”
“How do you propose to do that? You don’t even know what they look like.”
“No, but you do. What church does Dr. Weiss go to these days? Seems to me I used to see him at Serenity Chapel when I still lived around here.”
It was Samantha’s turn to scowl. “Oh, no, you don’t. You’re not going to coerce me into going to church again. I told you I gave that up.”
“You won’t reconsider? Not even for Danny’s sake?”
“That’s cheating, Waltham. You know I’d do just about anything to protect kids.”
“Sure do. So, is it a date or do you have to work this coming weekend?”
Disgusted at the way she’d walked right into his verbal trap, Samantha made a face. “No date. But I will consider going since I’m not on duty. For Danny’s sake.”
“Of course.”
Judging by the way John was beaming he was more than satisfied. Well, let him gloat. Even if she did give in and attend a Sunday service or two, that wouldn’t change anything between them.
It wouldn’t change anything between her and God, either, Samantha told herself. She had prayed and prayed for the Lord to intervene and keep John from abandoning her and what had happened? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. John had packed up and headed for Texas as if her feelings, her tears, hadn’t mattered to him one little bit.
Was she giving the obstinate man too much of a place in her current affairs? She did need an ally. And he was the only person who seemed to believe her. Therefore, she could not, in good conscience, dismiss his offer of assistance. What she could do, would do, was keep her emotional distance from him. Beginning now.
“If I do decide to go back to church—and I’m not saying I will—it’ll be by myself. The last thing I want is for people to think of us as a couple again. It’s taken me years to get them to stop asking how you are. As if I knew.”
“I did email and send you updates after I left,” he countered.
“For a few months.”
“You never answered me. Not once. What did you expect me to do?”
She wasn’t about to tell him that every time she’d gotten a message from him, it had sent her formerly upbeat mood sinking into a bottomless pit of despair and self-pity. In a way, it had been a relief when he’d stopped trying to communicate.
“I didn’t expect anything,” Samantha said. “You made yourself perfectly clear when you decided to leave.” Although she knew her words had an argumentative edge she didn’t seem to be able to control herself. It was as if John brought out both the best and the worst in her.
It was a definite relief when he smiled again instead of joining the quarrel and said, “Speaking of leaving…”
Samantha was instantly contrite. “Thank you for looking out for me tonight. I guess I didn’t sound grateful just now but I am. Really.”
“I know.” He paused and bent to pet Brutus who promptly plopped down and rolled over to beg for a tummy rub.
“Apparently, so is my dog,” she quipped. “I’m surprised he remembered you after such a long time.”
“Hey, we were good buddies,” John said, straightening and pulling his jacket on before reaching into his pocket and handing her a generic police department card. “My private cell number is on the back. If you have any more problems, call me.”
“I keep telling you I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for a long time.”
“Yes, but you didn’t have a prowler leaving threatening notes on your door or a purse snatcher grabbing you.” His eyes narrowed. “You don’t see any connection, do you, Sam?”
“Of course not.” Loath to admit she might actually need help someday, she nevertheless accepted the card.
“Do you have a cell phone?” he asked.
“I did, until this afternoon when Bobby Joe made me drop it. I’ll get another one ASAP.”
“When you do, I want that number.”
Facing him, hands on her hips, she shook her head slowly. “You’re really getting bossy. You of all people ought to know that approach doesn’t work with me.”
“I’d apologize if I thought I was in the wrong,” he countered, still grinning and giving the dog’s head a parting pat as he headed for the front door. “Since we both know I’m not, I’ll just leave before you can think of some other reason to throw me out.”
“Good plan.” A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth until she gave in and released it. “Good night, Officer Waltham.”
He tipped an imaginary cap and bowed. “Good night, Ms. Rochard. Lock this door after me.”
“Bossy.”
“But right,” he countered, sobering. “And you know it.” The door slammed, punctuating his parting comment.
As Samantha turned first the lock, then the dead bolt, she realized there had been another possible meaning to his words. Had the strange look on his face at the instant he’d shut the door meant he’d realized it, too, or had he simply been needling her the way he always used to?
Years ago, when her life had seemed perfect and complete, John had often insisted how right they were for each other. That memory was so crisp, so poignant, it brought a catch to her breath and tied her stomach in a knot until she managed to calm herself with common sense.
Of course he hadn’t meant anything personal. Why would he? Their romance was ancient history. If he thought she’d waited five whole years pining away for him, he had another think coming. She was over her crush on that disgusting man.
Period. End of story.
* * *
Samantha had spent Friday and Saturday nights jumping at every creak of the old house and obsessing over whether or not to attend church. When she’d finally grown weary enough to quit imagining some crazed criminal bursting into the bedroom and attacking her, she’d dozed fitfully, trusting her dog to keep watch.
By Sunday morning, she was ready to accept John’s challenge. For Danny’s sake, of course.
She chose a slim, black skirt and a silky blouse with warm fall colors that she’d bought after John had left town. The last thing she wanted to do was dredge up old memories by wearing something he had once admired.
Brutus had begged to be let out the front door first thing that morning and had returned promptly to resume his usual napping, so she decided to leave him dozing peacefully next to her favorite chair,