By Honor Bound

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  “How did you figure it out?”

  He paused in his work. “Figure what out?”

  “When it was time to let go?”

  “When they started to push away.” He glanced down at the wad of paper in his hand. “If we feel ourselves being smothered, it’s the most natural thing in the world to push away until we can breathe.” He looked over and met her eyes. “Sometimes the hardest lesson in life for parents to learn is that the tighter they hold on to their child, the more the child will push away.”

  Seeing the pain in her eyes, he picked up the kettle. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for some tea before I tackle the laundry.”

  It was dusk when Micah turned into the driveway of his mother’s house and climbed wearily from the car. Though he’d been in contact with Pru by phone, he hadn’t been home in three days. Three very long, very unproductive days.

  She’d been allowed to return to her apartment accompanied by an FBI agent only long enough to pack a few of her belongings. Then she’d been driven back to the Lassiter home, after being transferred to several vehicles and drivers. They were taking no chances that she might be followed.

  Micah trudged up the steps of the porch. Inside he could hear the sound of feminine voices upstairs, lilting with laughter. Apparently Pru and his sister, Bren, were sharing a joke. It was good to know those two had bonded. It couldn’t have been easy for someone like Pru to endure a household as busy as this. Yet whenever he’d spoken with her on the phone, he’d heard not a word of complaint.

  He made his way to the kitchen, where he found his mother and grandfather sipping tea at the trestle table. They looked up when he walked in.

  “Micah.” Kate’s smile deepened. “Kieran and I were just talking about you. Have you had dinner yet?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  The door opened and Prudence and Bren rushed in like two whirlwinds, followed almost immediately by Cam.

  “Micah.” Bren started toward him, smiling with pleasure. “Look what Pru loaned me.”

  He barely acknowledged his sister when he caught sight of Pru’s heart-stopping smile. If only he had one of his own to share. But he was fresh out of good cheer at the moment.

  “What’s this?” Kate touched a hand to her daughter’s sleeve.

  “Cashmere. Pru said she’d be hurt if I didn’t wear her cashmere sweater. She said if she can sleep in my room, I can wear her clothes.”

  Pru was still standing in the doorway, staring at Micah, without saying a word.

  Cam lifted a carton of milk from the refrigerator and chugged it down. Between gulps he said, “You ought to see Pru shoot hoops.”

  Micah blinked, pulling himself back from his bleak thoughts. “You’ve got her playing basketball?”

  “Well, I’m not sure you could call what she does playing.” Cam winked at his brother. “Since Bren taught her the rules, it’s a little like mortal combat. For a shy one, Pru has certainly become a fierce competitor. Not to mention that she’s become almost as noisy as Bren.”

  While he was talking, he realized that neither Pru nor Micah had moved. They were staring at each other as though they’d been apart for a year instead of mere days.

  Seeing everyone watching her, Pru clasped her hands together and prayed her voice wouldn’t tremble. “You haven’t come with good news, have you, Micah?”

  He shook his head. “It seemed good for a while. The FBI was able to come up with a detailed profile of our stalker. His name is Calvin Hoxley. A loner with no friends, and few who even know him. Considered something of a computer genius at Cal Tech. But he dropped out after just two years. Worked at a computer lab in San Francisco, but was fired when he was found to be sending threatening e-mails to the staff. A definite pattern here. He would become fixated on someone, imagine a dozen different ways he’d been insulted, then dream up ways to get even.”

  “That’s good news, isn’t it?” Pru took a step forward. “If they know so much about him, they ought to have him in custody soon.”

  “I don’t know about soon. The bad news is, he seems to have gone underground. By the time they got to his last known address, he’d checked out, leaving most of his belongings behind. There’s no telling when he’ll surface.”

  Pru studied Micah’s grim face. “Are you saying this could take weeks? Even…months?”

  He nodded. “We don’t know at this point whether he’s dropped out of sight because he thinks we’re onto him, or whether he’s just waiting to see when you return to your apartment.”

  “You think he’s watching?”

  “That’s what the FBI thinks. Hoxley dropped out of sight right after that incident in your apartment. They think he’s somewhere nearby, just waiting to catch a glimpse of you.”

  Pru crossed her arms over her chest, tapping a foot nervously. “So he may be thinking that I’ve just gone away for a few days?”

  “I suppose. That’s what everyone at the Children’s Village was told to say if anyone phoned for you.”

  Micah saw the way her eyes narrowed in thought.

  “Then maybe it’s time for me to return.”

  He was on his feet, eyes blazing. “Are you crazy?”

  “Not crazy.” Her head came up. “Angry. This man is robbing me of my hard-earned freedom. I want it back.”

  “And you’ll get it back as soon as we catch him.”

  “Which could take weeks or months. I can’t put my life on hold forever.” She lowered her voice. “I could be the bait to catch this man.”

  He was already shaking his head. “Your father would never permit it.”

  “He would if you assured him that I wouldn’t get hurt.”

  “I can’t make that kind of assurance, Pru. Too many things can go wrong.”

  She caught his hands in hers. “I’ll have you and my father’s security team and the FBI watching over me. I’ll do whatever you tell me.” When he started to pull away, she stopped him, her voice pleading. “Micah, you know I don’t consider myself very brave. But I’m desperate to have my life back. Let me at least meet with your people and present my idea to them. If they agree, I’ll talk to my father.” She took in a deep breath. “Please.”

  Over her head he saw his mother and grandfather exchange a look before getting up from the table to gather around her for support. Bren drew an arm around Pru’s shoulders, while Cam patted her hand in an expression of sympathy.

  The whole family, it seemed, had decided to take up her cause.

  Seeing them, Micah gave out a long, slow sigh of defeat. “Why do I get the feeling I’m outnumbered here?”

  “Because you know she’s right,” Kieran said gruffly.

  “Maybe. But that doesn’t make the decision any easier.”

  “Then try this,” Kate said gently. “At least let Prudence talk to the others. What she’s saying makes sense. She can’t put her life on hold indefinitely.”

  “At least she still has a life. This isn’t some television drama. In real life, things can go wrong. And when they do, the director isn’t around to call for another take.”

  “I’ll do whatever I’m told, Micah. You know I’m not brave enough, or foolish enough, to tempt fate.” Pru’s eyes were wide and pleading. “I just want to have this thing over and done with.”

  Micah went very still, mulling over the idea, and hoping desperately to find flaws in it. Finally he reached for the cell phone in his pocket. “I’ll arrange a meeting.”

  At Pru’s exclamation he added, “A meeting. That’s all I’m promising. You’re going to have to do some fast talking to sell this to the FBI.”

  Chapter 15

  As Pru showered and dressed, she was aware that her hands were shaking, making it difficult to button her silk blouse. She hated this fear that never seemed to leave. But at least, she consoled herself, she was finally doing something, instead of simply hiding away. She hated being a victim. Hated the feeling of powerlessness that had gripped her when she’d learned th
at she was being stalked. Now, no matter how afraid she was, at least she was doing something.

  But was it the right thing?

  She knew her father disapproved. Even after a dozen conversations with the head of the FBI team handling the case, Allen Street wasn’t convinced that his daughter should be allowed to involve herself. She’d been apprised of the danger. Had been given a list of things that could go wrong. But after all that, the FBI team had admitted that she was probably the only bait that would bring this madman out of hiding.

  This was her first day back on the job, and the fear was like a hard knot in the pit of her stomach. Even though she knew that she would never be alone, she felt naked and vulnerable. During the day a female operative would be assigned to her at work, playing the part of a trainee. She would accompany Pru wherever she went, even to the ladies’ room. Micah intended to follow her to and from work, but always from a respectable distance, in case she was being observed by the stalker. A camera and listening device had been installed in the great room and kitchen of her apartment, with a monitor in Micah’s, so that he could see and hear her. He had wanted more, but Pru had drawn the line at having a camera in her bedroom. To compensate, Micah had won another victory. Agents acting as a cleaning crew would sweep her apartment each day for bugs before she was allowed to return to it.

  She knew the security people would do everything in their power to keep her safe. And though it gave her a measure of comfort, she also knew that she was completely out of her element. Her once restrictive life had become an open book. It was, she realized, going to take some getting used to.

  When she picked up her purse and stepped out of her apartment, Micah’s door opened and he gave her one of those heart-stopping winks. “Good morning, Ms. Street. Lovely day, isn’t it?”

  She managed a smile. “Yes it is. It almost makes me wish I didn’t have to go to work today.”

  “Want to play hooky?” He touched a hand to her shoulder. Just a touch as he opened the door leading to the garage.

  “Don’t tempt me.” She tossed her purse into her car before sliding behind the wheel.

  In a voice only she could hear, he whispered, “There’s still time to change your mind, Pru.”

  She gave a quick shake of her head. She’d fought too hard for this. There was no turning back.

  As she drove away, she took comfort in the sight of Micah’s car trailing behind. She glanced around at the crowds of people on street corners, dashing to their jobs. So many people. Any one of them could be the stalker. She drew in a deep breath and forced herself to think of something else. There was no point in adding to her fear.

  At least, she thought as she fiddled with the buttons on the car stereo, she had reclaimed her life. She may be living with fear, but at least she was back in her apartment again, and returning to the work she loved.

  She pulled into the parking lot of the Children’s Village and tossed the strap of her purse over her arm as she strode purposefully to her office. This was, she reminded herself, the first day of her newly reclaimed life. She intended to make the most of it.

  The day, which had begun with overcast skies, was now growing darker by the minute. As Pru drove her car through late-afternoon traffic, the streetlights had already come on. She could feel the static electricity in the oppressive air. It added to her sense of anxiety. The long hours spent at work, pretending that nothing was wrong, had been more draining than she’d anticipated. Every time a stranger walked past her door, she’d experienced a sudden rush of fear, followed by a gradual weakness in her limbs.

  Coward. The word taunted her. It seemed all the more humiliating now that she’d become familiar with Micah’s family. Despite the wrenching loss of their son, husband and father at the hands of a gunman, each of them had risen above their pain to take charge of their lives. All she’d had were a few veiled Internet threats, and she was shaken to her very core.

  In the rearview mirror she caught sight of Micah’s car trailing behind her. Here she was, surrounded by brave people willing to risk their own lives for her, and she was still afraid.

  Annoyed at herself, she turned into the garage and switched off the ignition. Micah’s car pulled smoothly beside hers. As they walked into the building, they were met by two agents who avoided eye contact as they passed by.

  In a barely audible voice one agent whispered to Micah, “The apartment’s clean.”

  Micah nodded and followed Pru down the hallway. At the door to her apartment he waited while she turned the key in the lock and opened the door, disarming the security alarm.

  When she turned to him, he could see the flicker of fear in her eyes. He wanted to hold her, just for a moment. As much for himself as for her. But there was no time. Until this thing was over, they each had a part to play.

  This thing.

  He hated it. Hated what it was doing to Pru.

  “Sweet dreams.” He permitted himself the luxury of laying a hand over hers before turning to his own door.

  As soon as he was inside, he switched on the monitor and watched as Pru dropped her purse and keys on the hall table before walking toward the kitchen.

  By the time Pru had made herself a salad, the sky had turned as dark as night. Thunder rumbled in the distance and rain began pelting the windows. She turned up the volume of the stereo to drown out the storm and made herself a cup of tea. But nothing would help to settle her nerves.

  She could feel all the old fears sneaking up on her, weakening her defenses.

  She wrapped her arms around herself, fighting for calm. She was a grown woman. A woman trying desperately to take charge of her life. But right now, at this moment, she felt like that frightened little girl again, huddled in her mother’s closet, yearning desperately for the comfort of a mother’s arms.

  Annoyed, she set aside her tea and made her way to the bedroom. This kind of night called for comfort clothes. A robe and slippers, and maybe a good book in bed.

  At that moment, thunder crashed overhead, followed by a blinding flash of lightning. At the same instant she thought she heard a door open and close, but it was impossible to tell over the sound of the storm. Without warning, her apartment was plunged into darkness. And as she paused in the doorway leading to her bedroom, a chill raced along her spine as a hand closed over her mouth, cutting off her scream.

  Micah was drinking coffee and pacing as he watched the monitor. Pru was doing her best to hide her nerves, but he could see her restlessness growing as the storm began building. Remembering her fear of storms, it took every bit of his self-control to remain in his apartment, when all he really wanted was to be with her.

  He’d argued this point with the FBI, but they remained adamant that the whole point of this venture was to bring the stalker out of hiding. That would only happen if he knew Pru to be alone, and thus vulnerable to his attack.

  And so Micah waited and watched and paced.

  When the storm knocked out the power, sending the apartment complex into complete darkness, he let out a string of oaths as he headed for the door. Right now he didn’t give a damn about the rules. He wasn’t going to leave Pru alone with her demons.

  Pru couldn’t catch her breath. The hand covering her mouth was suffocating her. She was pinned firmly against a man’s body. She could smell him. Smell the almost overpowering odor of sweat, and the thick, cloying fragrance of cheap cologne that he’d used to cover it.

  Something cold was pressed to her temple and she shuddered as she realized it was a gun.

  “You make one sound and it’ll be your last.” His whispered words reminded her of the hiss of a snake. “You understand?”

  She gave a nod.

  Just then there was a sharp rap on the door of her apartment, and Micah’s muffled voice called, “Pru? You all right?”

  Her heart leaped to her throat.

  “Answer him.” The man kept his hand over her mouth as he added, “And it had better be the right answer, or it’ll be your last.” Very s
lowly he removed his hand from her mouth, all the while pressing the cold steel of his gun to her temple.

  “I’m…” She couldn’t speak over the hard knot of fear that was choking her. She swallowed and tried again. “I’m fine, Micah.”

  “Open the door. I need to see for myself.”

  The attacker swore under his breath. “Tell him you’re not dressed.”

  “I’m…not decent, Micah.”

  “All the better.” There was a rumble of familiar laughter from the hallway. “Come on, Pru. Open up. It’s so dark I won’t know the difference.”

  The attacker’s hands were rough and bruising as he dragged her closer toward the door. “Get rid of him. Now. Or I’ll blow him away.” He took aim at the door, and Pru realized that Micah wouldn’t stand a chance against an unexpected bullet.

  “Micah.” Pru couldn’t stop her voice from trembling. It was impossible to mask her fear. “I’m fine. Really.”

  “I know how you feel about storms, Pru. Let me in.”

  “No, Micah. Please.” She closed her eyes, more terrified by the threat of the gunman than she’d ever been by anyone or anything in her life. “I insist that you go away. Do you hear me?”

  “Okay. If you say so.” Micah’s voice faded away, and a door could be heard opening and closing across the hall.

  Pru’s heart nearly stopped beating. The thought of facing this madman alone had her gripped by paralysis. But it was far better knowing that at least she’d managed to save Micah’s life.

  In the silence that followed, the stranger pressed his mouth to her temple to whisper, “That was real good.”

  She felt her skin crawl from the touch of him, the smell of him.

  “I’ve been waiting for you.” His voice whispered across her nerves. “I haven’t eaten or slept, or even taken time to change my clothes since I was here last. But I had to see where Allen Street’s daughter lived. I knew if I waited long enough you’d be back. And now here we are. Just the two of us. Now we’re going to have us some fun.”