As Long As You Both Shall Live: A Christian Contemporary Romance with Suspense (Dangerous Series Book 2)

by Linda K. Rodante

  She sat still, stunned, the car filled with smoke. Someone had run her off the road, had tried to kill her. Her hands began to shake. She unlatched her seatbelt and threw open the door. Her peripheral vision caught a car’s lights making a wide turn. She twisted her head in that direction. The car was headed back her way.

  Run, a voice in her head urged. Move.

  The car’s engine sounded louder. Headlights hit her; the motor revved.

  Run.

  Sharee scrambled up the other side of the ditch toward a stand of trees. The vacant lot offered cover. Behind her, the car squealed to a stop. The door slammed. She heard someone clamber up the ditch just as she entered the trees’ shelter.

  She ran, gasping for breath. A group of pine trees loomed, and she darted behind them then around a stand of palmettos. Anything that might hide her. Her foot slipped on the leaves and dirt, and she grabbed a small pine to right herself. Darkness closed around her. She could see nothing ahead of her. She blinked and glanced back the way she’d come. Streetlights barely penetrated the darkness. She dropped behind the palmettos, making herself as small as possible.

  Lord, please.

  Her hands still shook, the palms sweaty with fear. She gulped shallow breaths and tried to hear. Nothing. Was the person standing still, too? Listening for her? She glanced at her dark clothes. Thank God. Her hand tightened on the small tree. She didn’t dare move. Close by, a twig snapped then another.

  On the other side of the palmettos, leaves rustled. She held her breath as her pursuer moved past. Quiet steps moved past on her left. The muscles in her legs screamed at her. Would she be able to get up if needed? Desperate for air, she sucked in a shallow breath. The noise sounded loud in her ears. Time crept as slow as the wait for morning. She struggled to hear what her pursuer was doing, but heard nothing. A cricket chirped, then another.

  From a distance away, a car door slammed, an engine started. The noise rumbled over her hiding place, filled the night, and died. She exhaled a long, slow breath. He’d gone.

  Her body relaxed, her breathing became natural; and she straightened on unsteady legs. Silence filled the night.

  Striving to see, she put her hands out to feel her way through the trees. The darkness confused her, but the street must be close. Noise from a car passing nearby rumbled her way. Lights flickered through the trees. She stopped. Had he come back? She waited again, but the car sped past. Another car, going fast, zoomed by the vacant lot. Good. She was headed in the right direction.

  The third engine sounded deeper than the others. It moved fast, also, but the sudden squeal of brakes brought her to a standstill. The screech of wheels followed. Lights flashed through the trees. She leaped back from their glare.

  A car door opened.

  “Sharee!” John’s voice echoed loud and strong and anxious.

  The truck’s lights sent yellow beams through the darkness. She ran toward them. He shouted her name again. Relief washed through her.

  “John.” She could see him now, next to her Honda. “John!”

  He spun in the direction of her voice, scrambling out of the ditch toward her. She ran from the trees.

  “Sharee, what…” He reached her, caught her waist, and pulled her hard against him. “What happened? Why didn’t you wait for me?”

  She clung to him, fighting to get her breath. Sirens sounded in the distance.

  “Someone ran me off the road.”

  “Ran you—”

  “And chased me through the woods.” She threw her hand toward the trees. Her body began to shake.

  He hugged her close. “They chased you? But—”

  “I heard him leave. He…” Her voice cracked. The trembling grew.

  “It’s okay, Babe. I’m here. You’re okay.”

  She buried her head against his shoulder. His hand stroked her hair. After a moment, he moved back and looked down at her. “You are okay?”

  “Yes. I…I’m fine.”

  “Come on.” He turned them toward the street, toward the noise of the sirens.

  Two sheriff’s cruisers ran up onto the grass, lights flashing. Sharee put her hands to her ears, closing her eyes against the sporadic bursts of color. When the night went black and silent, she lowered her hands. John led her forward. Two deputies, dappled by the streetlights, made their way around the cruisers and moved their way.

  “We received a report of an accident and someone being chased through the woods,” said the taller of the two. He took out a pen and a little book.

  Sharee recounted what had happened, and the deputy jotted notes as she explained. Her body felt cold and sweaty still. She huddled closer to John’s warmth.

  “Did you see the make of the car?”

  “No. I just knew that it wasn’t a truck.”

  Both deputies glanced at John’s truck.

  “I wish you’d waited for me,” John said, his voice low.

  “I thought it was you. I was waiting in the drive, and I saw it swing out from behind the church. So I thought it was you.”

  The first deputy jotted in his book. “You mean, the car came from behind the church?”

  “Yes. There’s a parking lot there, and a back entrance that leads to the neighborhood behind it.”

  “I’ll check the car.” The other deputy walked past them, circled the SUV and glanced at the damage on the bumper and the trunk. “We’ve got tire tracks and paint.” He walked toward the ditch and studied it. “You ran up this way?”

  “Yes,” Sharee answered.

  “There will be some prints. Grounds messed up. I’ll secure the perimeter.”

  Sharee turned back to the other deputy. John was filling him in on the other two accidents.

  “I heard something about a parishioner threatening the pastor there.”

  Sharee raised her head to meet John’s look. “Do you think Ted…”

  “He did threaten you.”

  The deputy flipped to another page on his book. “You were threatened?”

  “Yes, but…but I don’t think Ted…”

  “Ted’s last name?”

  “Hogan.”

  “That should have been reported,” John interrupted, “a couple of days ago.”

  The other deputy reappeared. “We’re going to need forensics to take paint samples and tire casts. Also, footprints.” He eyed Sharee’s shoes and then John’s. “Did you go into the ditch, too?”

  John nodded. “I ran from her car to the other side of the ditch.”

  The officer gave a snort. “Of course. We’re going to need both your shoes.”

  ***

  Almost midnight, John noticed, as he helped Sharee into his truck. They’d pick up her car whenever the Sheriff released it. He studied her a moment in the cab’s light. The tightness in her face and jaw told him all he needed to know. She was fighting exhaustion and nerves. They rode in silence.

  She tucked her bare feet under her and laid her head back against the leather seat. He’d had another pair of shoes in the truck, but she had nothing.

  He directed his anger at himself. Why had he agreed to her desire to drive home? His anger settled next on Ted. If Ted had run her off the road, chased her through that vacant lot…

  “John.”

  The tenuousness in her voice captured his attention. “I’m here.”

  “I don’t know whether to cry or scream.”

  “Neither will help. But I could make a target with Ted’s face on it, and you could throw darts.” Her head rose. He forced a grin.

  “But what if it wasn’t him? I can’t see why he might want to run me down, but why you? And you were first—before I saw him with Marci.”

  “You’re right, but let’s leave it to the Sheriff’s office, right now. They get paid for this.”

  “I won’t be able to sleep. What if he shows up at my place?”

  “You mean if it is Ted?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry. I’m going back and forth, aren’t I?”

  “Perfec
tly normal.”

  She lowered her head. He could feel the emotions swirl through her, and he slid his arm around her shoulders and drew her as close as possible.

  When they reached her apartment, he drove around the building, checking everything, before he parked. In the light from the antique lampposts, he inspected her. How could he leave?

  “Sharee.” His voice was a rough whisper. “I’m going to stay tonight.” When her eyes met his, he added, “I’ll sleep on the couch, but if you need me, I’ll be here.”

  She straightened and pulled free. “I’ll be okay.” But her voice underlined the strain and uncertainty she felt.

  “I’ll sleep on the couch,” he said again.

  “What about Cooper? Don’t you…”

  “He’ll be okay for the night. In fact, maybe I should bring him over tomorrow.” He gave a half smile. “He’s good protection, and you two might as well get use to each other. He’s part of the package, you know.”

  “Part of the…Oh.” She tried to smile, didn’t succeed, but punched him. “I knew that.”

  He grabbed her hands, holding them. “You know you almost decked me earlier.”

  “I did not.”

  “You threw a punch like a guy.” He made his voice light.

  “Right. So good that you were only a step behind me. Trying to get into the ladies’ room.”

  He tugged her back into his arms. “I should never have let you drive.”

  “It wasn’t your fault. I wanted to drive. Remember?" In a minute, her voice rose, “None of this makes sense. Who would do this? I can’t see Ted doing it, but who would? What do they hope to gain?”

  “Sssh.” He put a finger against her mouth. “Don’t get upset. We can’t do anything, but the police will now. Let’s go in.”

  “John, you can’t stay.”

  He heard her uncertainty. “Why not? Do you want to be alone?”

  “I…” her voice trailed off. “No.”

  “I don’t want you to be alone either. Come on.” He climbed down and scrutinized the parking lot before putting a hand out to help her. The motion light he’d installed a week earlier came on.

  He stopped. “Your back? You haven’t said a thing about your back.”

  “I know. It hasn’t bothered me since I ran into the woods.”

  “No? That doesn’t make sense, but sometimes…God does miracles.”

  “He did do a miracle. He kept me safe.” She took her keys out, opened the door, and flipped on the lights.

  John locked the door, set the bolts, and turned to see her dump her purse on an end table. She kept her head down. He remained quiet.

  “I don’t know why anyone would do this.” Her voice caught.

  He’d expected the break and knew when it came, he’d be in trouble. He moved next to her, holding his body and his own emotions in check. He was here to help her feel secure, nothing else. She looked up at him, and he bent to kiss her—a quick, butterfly kiss.

  “I don’t know any more than you, Babe; but we’re going to be okay.”

  “I know. I…it’s just…thank you for being here.”

  Her eyes seemed bigger than ever and her hair wild, curling in a hundred directions. She looked beautiful and fragile, and he wanted to make love to her. He dropped his hands to his side and took a step back.

  “I don’t know if I can sleep,” she said.

  For a minute, he made no response, swallowing every thought that rose. He cleared his throat. “I’ll be here. You won’t be alone.” His fists tightened. “Try to get some sleep. I’ll be on the couch.” He looked over her head to the bedroom. “Go to bed. Lock the door.”

  “Lock the…” She tilted her head and frowned. “Lock the door?” Then her eyes rounded, and a smile touched her features. “Do I need to?”

  “The way I’m feeling?” He forced a grin. “It would be wise.”

  Chapter 9

  The cell phone’s bouncing melody thrust its way into John’s consciousness. He shook himself awake and took a moment to orient himself. Sharee’s apartment. Okay. The hard couch. Okay.

  The phone fell silent.

  He stretched to see the clock. 8:00 A.M. He hadn’t slept long, and he’d tossed and turned most of that time. He stretched his neck, releasing the kinks. The first thing they needed when they married was a comfortable couch. Yeah. A comfortable couch. In case, he had to sleep on it for another reason.

  The phone’s melody began once more. Sharee’s purse still sat on the end table. He reached, grabbed it, and fumbled the phone out of it, pushing the button that showed an incoming call.

  “Yeah?” The roughness of sleep sounded in his voice, and he cleared his throat. “Yeah? Hello?”

  On the other end, another throat cleared. “Hel…lo?” Sharee’s father’s voice lifted the last syllable.

  John jerked upright. His feet hit the floor. Why had he answered her phone? “Uh…Sir?”

  “Hello, John. Just calling to…that is, just wondering how my little girl was doing this morning.”

  Little girl. John remembered the way she’d looked last night and forked a hand through his hair. Right.

  “Sharee’s fine, Sir. She’s still asleep. I mean I’m sure she’s fine. She’s in bed…I …” He stopped and closed his eyes. What am I saying? Silence filled the phone line. He sent a look heavenward, took a deep breath, and started over. “Look, I’m on the couch. She’s in her bedroom. There was an accident last night, and I didn’t want her to be alone.”

  The quiet this time lasted three long seconds. “I think,” Brian Jones said in an even tone, “that at a later date, we’ll have a good laugh about this, but right now…I just received a call that said she was run off the road last night and chased through a field.”

  “That is correct.”

  “I’m assuming, since you’re both there, and not at the hospital, that she’s okay.”

  “Yes. She was scared, of course, but okay.”

  “You want to tell me about it?”

  John gave the details of what happened. “My fault. I let her talk me into driving herself home. I didn’t feel right about it, but I gave in.”

  “I thought she wasn’t supposed to be driving, anyway.”

  “Well, Sir…”

  “You can drop the Sir.”

  John grinned to himself. “I’m trying to, believe me.”

  Brian Jones chuckled. “I understand. I appreciate you staying the night—on the couch. Sharee means a lot to me, to both her mother and me, as she does to you. Why was she driving, or do I need to ask?”

  “I think you realize your daughter is a…an independent woman. She couldn’t get in touch with me and felt the need to drive to church on her own. And then, of course, she wanted to drive home.”

  “I understand.” The smile in his voice changed to a serious note. “My friends in the Sheriff’s office here have made contact with the detective assigned to this case. A Detective Shepherd. He should be contacting Sharee today. What can you tell me about Ted Hogan?”

  “You do have good information.” John gave a short rundown on Ted Hogan. “What have you heard about my neighbor, George?”

  “You’ll be glad to know that he seems to be just what he says he is. He does, however, have some friends that could bear watching. We will be giving that information to your detective. It will be part of his investigation, I understand.”

  “I’m glad that we’ll be taken seriously now.”

  “Yes, they might make some headway at this point. Well, John, it’s been nice talking with you this morning. My wife is waiting at my elbow to hear what all this is about, so I think I’m in for some explaining, too. I’ll ring off. Please have Sharee call us when she gets up.”

  “I will, Si…” John stopped, biting short the word. On the other end, he heard Brian Jones laugh. “I will,” he said again and pushed the “end’ button.

  Yeah, one day we’ll laugh about this.

  ***

  Sharee pushe
d John toward the door. Daylight had brought courage. “Go home. Feed your dog. Take a shower. Let me take a shower and get some work done.”

  He frowned. “I don’t…”

  “I heard you tell dad I was fine.”

  “It’s one thing to tell your dad you’re okay, another to leave you by yourself.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen to me. Not here, anyway. Besides you can’t stay forever.” She gave him a smile that teased. “At least, not yet.”

  He growled and slid his arms around her. “Don't go anywhere.”

  “Certainly, Sir.” She saluted, mocking, remembering with amusement his own use of “Sir” a short time ago. She’d stood in her doorway listening to his conversation. “Whatever you say, Sir.”

  “Stop that. I mean it.”

  She laughed and tipped her head back, taking in the intense darkness of his eyes, the line of his mouth. He bent his head, his lips finding hers, kissing her roughly as if imprinting his claim on her.

  She watched from the window a few minutes later as his truck backed from the parking space, and raised her hand to her lips. That’s what it had felt like. As if in claiming her, he could keep her safe. She didn’t know what losing someone she loved would do to her, but she knew what it had done to him.

  Lord, give him peace. Give me peace. Protect us.

  She went to the refrigerator and took out the soft ice pack. Crazy back. It hadn’t bothered her until this morning. If she iced it for awhile, maybe she’d feel like doing something around the apartment. She stopped and smiled. Well, maybe not too much unless she wanted another lecture.

  He hadn’t wanted to leave. It wouldn’t surprise her if he turned around and came back. She leaned against the counter, treasuring the warmth of his concern for her.

  Knocking sounded from the front door.

  She straightened and almost laughed. “I knew it.”

  The knocking sounded again, quick, hard raps. She walked to the door.