In His Safekeeping

A quick jolt of irritation told him how distasteful he found his line of speculation. His assessment of her character said she was far too straightforward to be involved in that type of subterfuge. Was he merely grasping at straws in an attempt to put some much-needed logic to a confusing problem? Was he allowing a beautiful, enticing woman with a sultry voice to cloud his reasoning?

His thoughts drifted in another direction, this one a painful memory more than anything else. He had been with the Marshals Service for a year. Then one day while he was involved in a high-profile fugitive hunt someone planted a bomb in his car. The bomb had missed its target. Rather than him being killed, the victim had been his wife of six months.

He had carried the guilt of his wife’s death with him ever since then, a guilt that came rushing back at him the moment Tara’s car exploded. Here was another woman who had been put in danger with a car bomb. Was it because of him? If his original theory was correct, Tara was next on the list of victims, and if they hadn’t tried a car bomb it would have been something else. He hadn’t been able to keep his wife safe from danger and it had left a gaping wound that refused to heal even though he had closed off his heart to the possibility of any future relationship.

He saw the confusion and fear on Tara’s face. It worked itself inside him until it touched a place of vulnerability buried so deep he had forgotten it even existed. She was so tempting, so enticing. She stirred a very primal desire in him. It had been a long time since he had been this instantly attracted to any woman. He had failed to protect his wife, but he would do his best to protect Tara Ford.

It took the sound of the approaching sirens to banish the ghosts of the past. He turned to Tara, his words emphatic as he exercised total authority. “I’ll handle this. Respond directly to the questions you’re asked with the shortest answers possible. Don’t volunteer any information. Follow my lead.”

He put his arm around her shoulder and guided her toward the arriving police car. He felt the tension running through her body. “Everything is going to be okay, just stay with me.”

Brad’s mind raced ahead to what he should say to the police. Identify himself as a deputy U.S. marshal and say she was under the marshals’ protection and cut the local police out of the loop? That would officially throw the whole mess back into the lap of the Marshals Service and put his activities out in the open before he was ready to disclose that he was still working on his theory. Or maybe he should play ignorant of any and all reasons why the explosion had happened. Perhaps he should pretend that a freak malfunction, rather than a car bomb had caused the gas tank to explode. Whichever way he decided to go, he needed to make a decision and do it fast.

He watched two policemen climb out of the car, the older one going toward the fire engine at Tara’s car and the younger one heading toward the restaurant. The young policeman looked as if he couldn’t have been on the force very long, possibly still on probation from the police academy. He most likely didn’t have any experience dealing with federal cases and interfacing with federal agencies. Brad decided that discretion would be the best avenue for the time being.

He approached the young officer. “My name is Don McMillan and this is my fiancée, Tara Ford. It was Miss Ford’s car that just burst into flames.” He used a phony name for which he had identification. Hopefully the inexperienced officer wouldn’t think to take down the number on his car license tag. He purposely avoided using the word exploded, not wanting to put any ideas into the officer’s head.

The policeman took out his notebook and began writing. He paused to glance at Tara’s left hand, then directed his attention to Brad. “Your fiancée? I don’t see any kind of ring.”

He bristled at the officer’s implication, in spite of the fact that the man was correct in his observation and more astute than Brad had given him credit for. “That’s because I just asked Miss Ford to marry me while we were having dinner in the restaurant. We plan to shop for a ring tomorrow.”

“I see.” The policeman continued to make notes.

Tara took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm the nearly out-of-control panic rampaging through her body. Only the consistent strength radiating from Brad as he protectively kept his arm around her shoulder prevented her from falling prey to those fears.

The policeman looked at Tara. “You’re the registered owner of the vehicle?”

“Uh…” She swallowed to break the dryness in her throat. “Yes, it’s my car.”

“I need the make, model and license number. I also need your address and phone number.”

Tara provided the officer with the information, all the while drawing comfort from Brad’s reassuring presence.

“And you, Mr. McMillan…I need your address and phone number.” Brad gave the officer Tara’s address and phone number, alluding to the fact that they were living together.

“Okay…now, what happened here?”

Brad immediately took control of the conversation. “I’m really not sure, Officer. We came out of the restaurant and started across the parking lot. I was walking Miss Ford to her car.”

The young officer looked up from his notebook, addressing his question to Brad. “You arrived in different vehicles?”

“Yes, it was more convenient for us to meet here since we were coming from different directions.”

“What happened then?”

“Miss Ford took her car remote from her purse and clicked it to unlock the door and start the engine. There was a loud noise and the car burst into flames.”

The officer stopped writing again. “Burst into flames…are you saying there was an explosion?”

“I can’t really say what happened, Officer. Miss Ford and I—” he placed a tender kiss on her forehead “—didn’t actually see it. I assume it was caused by some sort of malfunction connected to the remote starter. Thank goodness no one was injured.”

“I see. Wait here, please.”

Brad and Tara watched as the officer crossed the parking lot and conferred with his partner. “How are you holding up?” He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Even though he spoke to her, his gaze never left the officers as they talked.

“Okay, I guess.” There was no denying the tremor in her voice.

“Hang in there. We’ll be out of here in a few minutes.”

Another half hour passed before they were able to leave. One overriding thought kept circulating through Tara’s mind. She had to keep her wits about her and pull up all the inner strength she could muster. It was not the time to let her fears get the better of her. After what she had been through with the trial and all the chaos it had introduced into her normally ordered life, getting through this should be just one more hurdle to jump. Unfortunately, no matter how hard she tried, her brave thoughts didn’t do anything to calm her fears.

They drove away from the restaurant in Brad’s car. He carefully measured his words as he spoke, not wanting to frighten her any more than she obviously already was, but not wanting her to misunderstand the seriousness of the situation, either. “You won’t be going home tonight. We’ll stop at a store and you can buy whatever you’ll need for a day or two, then I’m checking you into a motel.”

She jerked around in the seat until she faced him. “A motel?” She couldn’t conceal her irritation. He had made the decisions for her back at the restaurant when he had restrained her and when dealing with the police, but this was different. “You’re telling me I’m not allowed to go home? You’re making this decision on your own without even doing the courtesy of consulting me?”

He snapped out an answer to her defensive attitude. “There’s nothing to discuss. Anyone determined to do so could find out where you live in a matter of minutes. I’m sure whoever is behind the bombing already knows where you live in addition to where you work.”

His words struck a chord with her. If it was that easy, then why had Danny Vincent claimed it had taken him so long to discover where she had moved? Or had it really taken him that long?

She glanced at Brad as they drove onto the interstate. Someone had just tried to kill her and now her life was in the hands of a total stranger who was driving her to an unknown place. She wasn’t sure exactly what to think or feel anymore.

She had briefly thought about moving to another state and starting over after the trial in order to distance herself from the chaos that had been forced on her, but running away wasn’t her life pattern. The trial was over, she had a new job and she was free to return to her normal routine of dull and predictable. She had thought the only change would be her move from Seattle across Lake Washington to Bellevue to be close to her new place of employment. How wrong she had been.

She had always done what was expected of her, gone along without making waves, which included agreeing to testify at the trial. She had information about John Vincent’s activities. It was her duty to testify – it was expected of her.

Even taking the job at Green Valley Construction as soon as she graduated from college had been to please her mother. She had spent most of her life trying to be the daughter her mother wanted. As a child she had been subjected to constant fights between her mother and father. Finally her father walked out the door for good, leaving a ten-year-old girl to deal with her mother’s demands. She felt as if she had been abandoned, leaving her to believe that she couldn’t trust anyone. She had done her best to cope, but from that moment on her mother had leaned heavily on her for emotional support, draining her of a happy childhood. Her mother insisted that she was too frail and couldn’t manage by herself. She needed Tara’s help.

She could still hear her mother’s words. Being a dancer isn’t any kind of respectable career for a young woman. Get yourself a nice secure office job where you can grow with the company, and if you don’t find yourself a husband, at least you won’t be washed up by forty and you’ll have a nice pension when it comes time for you to retire.

She had finally been able to break away from her mother’s constant control when she had saved enough money from her job to move out and get her own apartment, but it didn’t stop her mother’s relentless attempts to interfere in her life. Getting married had not been on Tara’s list of goals, and as it turned out an office job had ended up being anything but secure. The only true risk she had ever taken in her life was agreeing to testify at John Vincent’s trial. That decision had turned her life upside down…and now, when she thought it was all over, it had come back to turn her life into a nightmare.

The one shining moment had been her new job. Finding it had been a real stroke of luck. She had been at her favorite bookstore and had reached for a book at the same time as Judy Lameroux. They struck up a conversation that quickly turned into a friendship. Judy told her about a job opening at the company where she was the office manager. It was almost as if fate had stepped in to help her in her time of need. She liked her new job, her co-workers and her new home. And two months ago she had bought a new car…her first car that was brand new rather than used. It had seemed as if everything was going to be okay in spite of her brief sojourn in a chaotic situation.

She glanced at Brad again. Trust hadn’t been easy for her since the upheaval of her childhood. It had been even more fleeting since her disastrous engagement to Danny Vincent, then reinforced by the subsequent arrest of the man who had employed her, followed by his trial and her being thrust into the very awkward and uncomfortable situation of being a witness.

She took in Brad’s handsome profile and strong determination. When he put his arm around her shoulder in the restaurant parking lot he had provided her with a silent strength while at the same time calming her fears. It had also sent a little tremor of excitement through her body, something totally inappropriate for the situation yet a very real sensation. He was as fascinating and dynamic as the danger surrounding her was traumatic and frightening.

And now she was all alone with this very appealing stranger in whom she was forced to place her trust. Her very life depended on whether that trust was valid. Another shiver of anxiety confirmed what she already knew. The danger was very real. A chapter of her life that she thought was over had come back to haunt her and throw her life into turmoil again. Could she trust this man to help her? She wanted to, but she wasn’t sure she even knew how to trust anymore.

Chapter Three

Brad headed south from Seattle, exiting the interstate at Tacoma. He stopped at a discount store so Tara could buy the items she would need to stay overnight. They drove to a nearby motel. He checked into the room using the same fictitious name he had given the police officer, and paid cash in advance for two nights.

He unlocked the door. “It’s not fancy, but it’s clean and will be safe for the time being. I’ll check with you in the morning.”

She stood in the middle of the room, her gaze nervously darting from the bed to the television perched on the dresser, then to the small table and two chairs and finally the large stuffed chair in the corner without lingering on any one spot for more than a couple of seconds. Her words were soft and filled with the anxiety coursing through her body.

“It never occurred to me that testifying against John Vincent would continue to control my life after the trial was over.”