Divorced, Desperate and Daring

by Christie Craig

  He dialed Sherri’s number as he sprinted to his car. It rang. And rang. “Damn it,” he muttered when it went to voicemail. He hung up, jumped in his car and sent her a fast text.

  Answer my call!

  He dialed her again. Still no answer. He tossed his phone on the passenger seat and drove like hell out of his parking lot, heading to the closest piece of heaven he knew on this earth—and praying he wasn’t too late.

  • • •

  The sound of her phone jarred her awake. She opened one eye and put her hand on the nightstand only to touch the flat surface with no phone.

  Sitting up, her mind pushed away sleep enough to realize she must have left her phone in the kitchen when she’d let Taco out.

  Getting out of bed and fighting the late-night-call panic, she hurried out of her bedroom to find the cell. It stopped ringing before she got to the kitchen.

  Finally spotting it on the counter, she dashed over and hit recent calls.

  Danny’s number showed on the screen. Did he not realize what time it was? Hell, what time was it? She studied the tiny numbers on top of the screen that listed the time. It was one in the morning.

  Then her phone dinged and she saw she’d also gotten a text in the last few minutes. She moved to her message screen to read it.

  Answer my call!

  She had her finger on the recall button when Taco came barreling into the kitchen, growling and going full speed.

  “What?” She watched her dog run to the French door.

  Right then, she saw something outside the door.

  No, not something. She saw someone. Or the shape of someone. And they leapt away from the door as Taco butted his head against the glass.

  Sheri screamed. The sound of it, pure terror, echoed in her ears. Phone in hand, she took off out of the kitchen.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Making a mad dash into her living room, she listened as Taco continued to bark.

  Panic ripped through her and then suddenly she stopped, unable to leave her dog.

  “Taco. Come!” she demanded.

  The sound of his paws hitting against the tile filled her ears. The dog, still barking, came bolting at her. She grabbed his collar and guided him into her bedroom. With panic still fizzing through her, she turned the lock on the knob and threw the phone on the bed. Standing in the middle of her room, dancing from one foot to the other, she decided it wasn’t enough. She pushed her dresser in front of the door.

  She hurried to her phone to call 911. No sooner did she have it in her hands that it started to ring.

  She saw Danny’s number and answered it. “Someone’s in my backyard!”

  “Shit. I’m a block away,” Danny snapped. “Where are you in the house?”

  “My bedroom,” she managed to say, her voice shaking.

  “Lock the door,” he ordered.

  “I did.”

  “Good. Stay away from the window. Or better yet, go to the bathroom and lock that door, too.”

  “Okay, but don’t hang up.” Hearing his voice took the edge off her fear.

  “I have to call for backup. But I’m practically in your parking lot.” He hung up.

  Fear made her stomach quiver. She grabbed Taco’s collar again and bolted into the bathroom. After she locked the door, she grabbed her baseball bat from the linen closet and slid to the floor. Knees shaking, she listened for anyone knocking down the door.

  Only normal night noises rang out.

  A grown of the plumbing. Maybe her refrigerator dropping ice.

  But it did little to comfort her because she’d seen too many cop shows where victims claimed they never heard the person breaking in.

  Feeling as if she couldn’t get enough air in her lungs, she hugged her dog and prayed that whoever was outside would already be gone before Danny got back there.

  Her heart pounded in her chest, and the thought of Danny facing a burglar had her lungs refusing air. Grabbing the bat again, she debated going out to make sure Danny wasn’t about to get shot.

  • • •

  Danny’s tires squealed as he pulled into the condo parking lot. He’d called and requested assistance the second he’d hung up from Sheri. He figured he was going to need it to keep him from killing this asshole.

  He pulled up right in front of Sheri’s porch. His feet hit the pavement before his car gave the last spit of the engine. Gun in hand, his gaze shot to the front door to make sure no one had broken in. It appeared shut and undisturbed. He took off around back. The gate was open.

  He moved against the house and listened for anyone. Not a sound echoed in the darkness. He eased around the gate, gun out, his gaze shifting left to right, checking all the shadows.

  Sheri’s backyard was tiny, and it took him no time to walk it and confirm what he suspected. Whoever had been here had left.

  As he moved to the French doors, he saw a screwdriver and assumed the would-be intruder had planned on using it to pry open the lock. He left it on the ground, knowing they might be able to get prints from it.

  Only after doing one more check out front did he call Sheri again.

  “Tell me you’re okay,” she said, her voice shaky.

  “I’m fine. Whoever was here is gone. The police will be here shortly. I’m on your front porch. Can you open your door for me?”

  “Yeah.”

  He heard her moving around. “Are you okay?”

  “Scared,” she admitted, and he heard her choke up as if she was crying.

  “He’s gone. I promise.”

  “Yeah,” she managed to say and then the phone clicked silent.

  It took another minute before she opened the door. When she did, she ran into his arms.

  All of her, against all of him. Nothing had ever felt so good. His chest expanded with something warm and wonderful. Slowly, never attempting to pull away, he moved her inside and then closed the door with his foot.

  Taco stood beside them, nuzzling Danny’s leg with his nose.

  “It’s okay,” Danny whispered, burying his face in her hair, which smelled clean and lightly fruity. “Backup should be here in a few minutes.”

  She clutched him tighter. Her cheek pressed closer to his chest. He hadn’t shaved, and his stubble caught in soft strands of her hair.

  “Did you see the person trying to break in?” he asked in a low voice, knowing she was upset but wanting to get any information before it was lost.

  She nodded but didn’t answer.

  “Did you recognize him?”

  “No,” she said in a weak, shaky voice and pulled away. “But I didn’t get a good look either. He was wearing a hoodie.”

  Danny ran a hand down her forearm, still wanting to comfort her. She looked up. Her eyes still held the remnants of tears. His chest tightened with the need to protect her. A slow fire burned in his belly at the thought of how close someone had gotten to her.

  “Could you tell how tall they were, or the color of their hair and skin?”

  She blinked and stared off as if trying to remember what she saw. “I only got a glimpse of him. It was dark.” She hesitated. “He was average height, I guess. More thin than big. But I never really saw . . . I just saw them from the side, and the hood hid their face and hair.” She swallowed. “I’m pretty sure it was a male. But I couldn’t even swear to that because the hoodie was so big.”

  “That’s okay,” he said. “Did you hear them breaking in?”

  “No, I . . . I’d left my phone in the kitchen and . . . you called. Taco followed me and then went crazy barking at the door. I looked up and saw him as he moved away from the door as if . . . as if Taco surprised him.”

  Surprised? Not likely. Probably scared the shit out of him. Danny made a note to buy the dog some tasty treats. “Then what did the perp do?”

  “I don’t know. I tore out of the kitchen and screamed at Taco to come with me.”

  She took in a gulp of air and then looked toward the kitchen. “How did you know someone wa
s here?”

  “I didn’t,” he said. “I just knew . . .” He debated not telling her, knowing she was already upset and this would make it worse. But to keep it from her wasn’t right either.

  “Knew what?” she asked, shaken but not so much that she would miss the obvious.

  “A bomb went off in a UPS truck today.”

  She blinked, and he saw the last of her tears web in her lashes. “I . . . heard. But . . . what does that have to do with me?”

  “Right before I called you, I got a call from Chase Kelly. They were able to piece some of the package together.”

  “And . . . ?” Her brow pinched in confusion.

  “It was addressed to you.”

  Her face lost its color. “No, that has to be wrong. I . . . no one . . . It . . .”

  “It’s not wrong, Sheri.” He guided her over to her sofa—away from the front window in case anyone decided to take a few shots—and nudged her to sit down.

  She dropped and stared at her gripped hands on her lap. He sat down next to her. Close enough that his shoulder brushed against hers.

  She glanced up, and new tears made her eyes bright. “But who . . . who hates me enough to . . . to build a bomb?” She paused. “Do you think Kevin’s fiancée did this?”

  He searched his mind. His gut had said it wasn’t her. But his gut wasn’t always right. “I don’t think it’s her, not that I couldn’t be wrong.” He mentally went over the list she’d given him. “You didn’t give me contact info on the guy at speed dating.”

  “I didn’t have it. I told you, he called me once and that’s all. And that was months ago.”

  He brushed a hand up her forearm. “My point is that unless we missed someone altogether, the only people I haven’t spoken to is the speed-dating guy and Mark Taylor.”

  He felt her tense, heard her exhale. She looked up at him, a frown on her lips. “I got a text from him.”

  What the hell? “From Mark?”

  She nodded.

  “What? When?”

  She nipped at her lip. “Yesterday, before I went to Mrs. Lamb’s.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I . . . forgot, but I didn’t think it was a big deal because . . . because you arrested that guy.”

  “What did he say?” He stood up, trying to hold back his frustration. “Where’s your phone?”

  “In my bedroom. Mostly all he said was happy birthday. Oh, and he sent a picture of him hiking.”

  Danny went to get her phone, and when he walked back into her living room, he saw the blue lights flashing through the front window.

  • • •

  The next two hours passed in a hazy blur. It took seeing Danny open his apartment door to get her out of the panic-induced daze. Had she really agreed to stay at his place?

  Shit! She had.

  A cold November wind snuck under her thin jacket. Reaching down, she fiddled with the flap of her purse, just needing something to do with her hands. Somewhere in her short-circuited mental function, she recalled turning down his invitation and telling him she could just stay at her mom’s. But Danny hinted that it might put her mom in danger as well.

  Not a complete pushover, she’d suggested she could stay at a hotel. He’d asked who would care for Taco because he wasn’t sure a hotel would take him as a guest.

  After that, she’d pretty much been a pushover. Hey . . . she only had so much mental stamina left, and she was reserving it for . . . dire emergencies.

  “Come in,” he said pushing open the door and leading Taco inside.

  Sheri’s feet didn’t follow the command. She remembered the sight of him walking out that same door with a gorgeous blonde. Oh, Lordie, this was not smart.

  This might be the dire emergency. “There has to be a hotel that takes pets close by.”

  Danny’s mouth thinned, and disappointment filled his gaze. “It’s almost three in the morning. Stay here tonight, and if you still want one tomorrow, we’ll talk about it.”

  Did that mean she wasn’t going home tomorrow? The thought buzzed around her head and made her dizzy. “All because I ran over an opossum.”

  “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” she said, realizing she’d said that out loud and was now completely out of mental fortitude.

  “You okay?”

  Tears almost appeared in her eyes. How could she be okay? Someone had friggin’ sent her a bomb!

  Pushing away the panic, she took in a deep gulp of air. They’d left at least five cops at her place, dusting for prints. She recognized several of them from Kathy’s parties, and she knew their wives from Chloe’s girls’ night out get-togethers. She recalled Danny promising one of the officers wearing a suit, who’d been a little rude, that he’d bring her in for an interview in the morning. She realized just then that she hadn’t spoken once to Danny on the drive over here.

  But dang it, why hadn’t she at least had the good sense to insist on driving her own car?

  When she didn’t take that step over the threshold, he added, “Look, if you’re worried about . . .”

  “I’m not worried about that,” she said, pretty sure what he meant. And she hadn’t been worried about that. She knew Danny well enough to know he’d never push himself on her. He didn’t have to. He probably had lines of women waiting for their opportunity. As a matter of fact, she was more worried that one or two might even be at his place.

  “Then come in,” he said, and she noted his blue eyes looked tired. It was so late. And yet, she doubted she’d be able to sleep at all. She kept seeing that person outside her French doors. Kept wondering what would have happened if Danny hadn’t called and woken her up.

  He pushed the door open a little farther.

  Realizing it was futile, not to mention a little silly, to argue now, she stepped inside.

  He switched on a light. “Make yourself at home. I’m going to get your bag and Taco’s stuff.”

  “I can do that.” She set her purse against the wall.

  “I got it. Relax.” He motioned to the sofa.

  Relax? Was that even possible? Someone had sent her a bomb in the mail. She recalled seeing a short piece about it on the eleven o’clock news. The driver of the UPS truck hadn’t been injured badly. Thank God he hadn’t been killed. Thank God the package hadn’t appeared on her doorstep.

  Right now, she could’ve been in the morgue with all kinds of shrapnel in her body. What the hell had she done to make someone hate her that much?

  Her throat tightened again, and she swallowed to stop the tears from forming.

  He walked over and gave her forearm a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay.”

  His arms came around her, and she let them. She stayed there, feeling protected, for several long minutes. The fizzy feeling making her almost dizzy faded.

  Finally, she pulled away.

  “I’ll get your stuff,” he whispered.

  She nodded, and after watching him leave, she forced herself to take stock of Danny’s place. The apartment buildings were only a year old, and the newness of it added a little shine to the place.

  A huge U-shaped sectional sofa, in dark brown leather, centered the large room. The coffee table was wood with a glass top. Against one wall was a large entertainment center with shelves and a huge TV that was the size of a small movie screen. The living room opened up to a roomy kitchen with a breakfast nook and an island. A bar, with two stools, separated the two rooms.

  She spotted a few dirty dishes on the kitchen counter, and there was a newspaper and a few pairs of shoes lying around. Other than that, his place didn’t resemble a bachelor pad. Danny ran a pretty clean ship.

  Not that she was all that surprised. For some reason, she’d never viewed him like the average guy with slob tendencies. He always looked fresh and clean. Smelled fresh and clean.

  Tonight was the first time she’d seen him when he wasn’t completely clean-shaven. Then she recalled yesterday morning, when he’d had his shirt butto
ned wrong and a little chocolate on his chin. Perhaps the reason she’d found it so charming was because it was the first time he hadn’t been perfectly put together.

  She looked back at the TV console. On it were some picture frames. Remembering he’d snooped around her things and pictures, she moved over. One of the pictures was of Danny around thirteen in a football uniform. A man stood beside him, holding a trophy.

  She remembered he’d said he thought his father had passed. She stared at the man to see any resemblance. None. Was this his uncle?

  Behind that picture was another of an older couple. The same man. Probably his aunt and uncle, she guessed. On the other side of the console was another picture. Like a family picture. The older couple with Danny and a young blond girl. The cousin, she supposed.

  She picked it up to study Danny. He looked about sixteen. Probably already a ladies’ man.

  When she went to put it back, she saw a small stack of greeting cards. The one on top had Feliz Navidad written on top. Under it, partially sticking out, was the envelope—addressed from Mexico. Her heart tugged a little, remembering how she heard vulnerability in his voice when he said his mom lived in Mexico.

  The door opened behind her. She swung around. Danny came in with Taco’s bed stuffed under one arm and her bag, which held a few clothes and Taco’s food, in the other.

  “Snooping?” he asked.

  “You did it.”

  He just smiled. “Take your coat off and sit down.” He dropped the bed and bag against the wall.

  “No, Taco,” Sheri said when the dog went to sniff out the food.

  “Do you want me to give him some food?”

  “I fed him earlier.” Then she sighed. Oh, hell. He’d had a hard night, too. “Sure.”

  “I think he deserves it.” Danny petted the dog as he picked up the bag.

  Sheri knew he meant that Taco had scared off the intruder. Most people were afraid of her dog, not realizing the beast was afraid of grasshoppers.

  Seeing the bag in Danny’s hand, she recalled packing it, but suddenly she remembered what she didn’t bring. “I’m sorry. I think I forgot to pack his water and food bowls.”