When Lightning Strikes

“Well, you handled yourself pretty well against those two men who came after me.”

“It’s part of what I do.” He paused, then added, “And, to be honest, I don’t like to lose.”

Hannah knew that already. Daniel wasn’t a man who took second place easily—if ever. “Then you may have picked the wrong side to be on this time. The odds seem to be stacked against me at the moment.”

“I follow my own judgment about what’s right and what’s not. Odds are never the issue. And I never shy away from a fight I believe in,” he answered, giving her a crooked smile that made her pulse beat faster. “Besides, your chances aren’t as bad as you think, providing you’re as innocent as you say you are.”

Hannah didn’t miss the disclaimer. “So, you still have doubts?”

“Under the circumstances, do you blame me?”

She sighed softly. “No, I suppose not. What can I do to change that?”

“Work with me. Let’s concentrate on what we know and try to piece the rest together. That’s the only way we’re going to find the truth.”

It was shortly after 3:00 p.m. when Daniel pulled off the main highway, drove a quarter mile south, then parked in front of a wood frame house located in a semirural residential area alongside the river. There were at least five acres between neighbors. “Let’s go inside. Mitchell has a computer program designed to make suspect drawings. I helped him install it a while back. If we work together, I think we can come up with a sketch of the man who abducted you.”

Hannah went into the house and looked around. It was a simple home with a bare minimum of amenities. A man’s house, and a spartan one.

As Daniel sat down at the computer, she tried to keep her spirits up, but it was hard. She couldn’t blame Daniel for harboring doubts. And it was going to get worse. Someone was clearly out to frame her and even the apparent kindness of keeping the police out of it was making it easier for her hidden enemy to systematically destroy her. If the missing money wasn’t found, she was sure that eventually she’d be arrested.

She’d lose everything but, in the process, she’d also blacken her uncle’s reputation as well. He’d vouched for her when she’d taken over the church’s accounts and their connection would mean that no one would ever trust him again either. He’d be ruined personally and professionally. A real estate broker needed people’s trust.

“I’m not guilty. I’m certain of that, even though I can’t remember what happened,” Hannah said.

Daniel nodded absently as he switched on the computer.

“And I’m not crazy.” She saw the thoughtful look he gave her, and realized that he already knew quite a bit about her history. Just how much, she was afraid to ask, but unless she could make him understand that her illness had only been a result of her parents’ death and that it was all in the past, it would shadow everything she said or did.

As she glanced over at him, she noticed the way he was looking at her and forced herself not to react. “I’ve spent my whole life trying not to let long, thoughtful looks filled with speculation—like the one you just gave me—get to me.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” he said, quickly looking down at the computer.

“It’s a certain expression that people get that says without words, ‘Poor thing. She looks normal, but she’s a little touched.’” She paused for a moment. “I hate it, but it’s followed me all my life.”

“I didn’t mean to give you the impression that that’s what I was thinking or doing,” he hedged, fully aware that she’d hit the mark squarely.

“So you weren’t assessing me, wondering what makes me tick?”

He started to deny it, but then decided against it. “Your uncle told me that you’re prone to fugue states where you don’t remember things, and that you spent time in a hospital for depression.”

“I went through six months of therapy after my father committed suicide. I was there when it happened and I went into shock. I was only thirteen at the time, and it was just too much for me to handle.” She took a deep, steadying breath then continued. “It took a while for me to find my way back. To this day I still don’t remember all the details of that night, but my uncle filled in the gaps and, to be honest, I know all I need. The past can’t be changed. I learned back then to accept that and go on with my own life. Mind you, it took a lot of sessions with the doctors before that sank in, but once it did, I never had to go back for treatment.”

“And now you can’t remember again,” he said slowly.

“I’m obviously blocking out something that scared the daylights out of me. Nothing less could have caused this. I know I had a similar problem when I was thirteen, but I’ve lived a normal life since that time. I’m not on medication, nor have I had to see a psychiatrist for many years. If you want to know the truth, my biggest problem has been that my history of mental illness has always followed me like a shadow. People see me as flawed, or weak, and no matter how hard I’ve tried, I’ve never been able to escape that.”

“That’s not that unusual. People tend to see the person they knew, not the one you’ve become.”

“And this mess I’m in now will only convince them that they’ve been right about me all along. To them I’m just Bob Jones’s poor, crazy niece,” she said, exhaling softly.

“Once we find answers, things will get easier for you.”

She shook her head. “No, even if I’m completely cleared, my past will continue to make people feel uncertain about me. It’s not fair, but it is the truth.” She stuck out her chin. “But I will get through this and clear my name. Nothing can force me to become a helpless victim again. I’m not thirteen anymore.”

She knew she was in for the fight of her life but, somehow, she would remember what happened at the church. She owed it to herself, and also to Daniel, who was placing himself in the path of unknown dangers to stand by her now and protect her.

Chapter Four

“Okay, I’ve got the computer program running. Pull up a chair,” Daniel said.

Hannah did as he asked. There wasn’t much room and his leg pressed against hers as they sat beside each other. That fluid warmth filled her with awareness.

As Daniel captured her gaze, everything feminine in her came to vibrant life. In his eyes she could see the same fire that was coursing through her. Yet that knowledge did little to stop the crazy kaleidoscope of emotions swirling through her. This man was all male power—raw, immediate and unrelenting.

She tore her gaze from his. Daniel Eagle didn’t back away from anything—even this. It went against his nature. But one of them had to put a stop to the sexual tension rising between them. Otherwise things would spiral out of control.

Hannah looked at the computer screen. “Okay. How do we use this program?” she asked, forcing her voice to remain steady.

The work took more than an hour, but after the first fifteen minutes, Wolf trotted over and wedged himself between them, pushing their chairs aside enough to accommodate him. Hannah laughed, and shifted to make more room for him, but Daniel glowered at the animal.

“He’s such a nice dog,” Hannah said, burying her hand in the thick fur around Wolf’s neck.

Jealousy only increased Daniel’s irritation. “Yeah. He’s swell.”

Refocusing on the work at hand, Daniel continued adjusting facial features on the screen according to her directions, manipulating the shape of the face until she was satisfied. “That’s the man who was going to kill me,” she said at last.

He studied the sketch of the Anglo man, toggling the printer to make a copy. “I don’t recognize him. Do you have any idea who he might be?”

Hannah looked up at him and shook her head.

Daniel could see the pain and fear mirrored on her face. She looked fragile—a beautiful flower that had been buffeted by an angry wind. Daniel struggled with the sudden desire to pull her against him. He’d held her once, and her bare skin had felt like velvet and fire. It had left him wanting more.

Fighting himself, he forced his thoughts back to the case. For all he knew, Hannah was an experienced manipulator and he was playing right into her hands. Ignoring the gut instinct that told him he was off base with that, he tried to convince himself that all Hannah could ever be to him was major-league trouble.

Pensively, he dropped his gaze to her hands, which were now resting on the small computer desk. They were delicate and feminine. And memory told him they were impossibly soft. He wanted to feel them on his naked flesh.

Disgusted with himself, he pushed back his chair and walked across the room. What he needed now was a cool head, not a raging sex drive.

“I’ll fax this to Silentman. He’ll run it through several databases and see what turns up,” he said, removing the drawing from the printer output tray and walking over to the fax machine on another desk beside the phone.

As he looked back at her, he saw Hannah wearily rubbing her eyes. “You look really tired. Have you had any sleep at all since this started?”

“I couldn’t get much sleep at the cabin the night I was there,” she said. “I was afraid someone might just walk in.”

“Why don’t you go lie down and get some rest now?”

“But there’s so much going on….”