Declan

by Kate Hoffmann

  “I’m going over to my group sessions, Simon. I’ll call in later this afternoon for my messages.”

  Simon gave her an uneasy smile. “I thought we were going to work on the new journal article. I have all the citations ready and I’d like to go over them with you.”

  “We have time on that,” she said. “It’s not due until September.”

  “But you know how busy it gets at the beginning of the school year,” he said. “I think it would be best to get it out of the way now, while you have extra time.”

  “All right,” she said. “Why don’t we plan to work on it tomorrow morning. I’ll come in at nine.”

  Dec gently took Rachel’s elbow and steered her out of the office. “I don’t like the way that guy looks at you,” he murmured. “Your buddy Ellsworth might be right. Maybe Simon is in love with you.”

  “Don’t be silly. Simon wouldn’t risk his job. He’s on to bigger and better things at the end of next semester.”

  “I just have a bad feeling about him. He’s hiding something.”

  “Are you suspicious of everyone?” she asked.

  “No, just of clingy, over-protective graduate students who think they run your life.”

  It was a beautiful summer day with a cool breeze blowing in off the Atlantic. They walked to Dec’s car, parked near Rachel’s space in the lot and he held on to her elbow, keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings.

  He hadn’t told Rachel about the box that had been delivered to the radio station or about the message inside. Over the past few days, she’d begun to relax again. There’d been no new contact and Dec could only hope that her stalker had found something else to occupy her time. Yet, in his head, he knew that this might just be the calm before the storm.

  He’d always taken his job seriously, but this had become more than a job for him. He actually was beginning to believe he and Rachel might have a future together and Dec was willing to do everything in his power to protect that future.

  It was easy to imagine himself living with Rachel, having her in his bed every night and every morning, sharing breakfast with her, calling her to chat in the middle of the day. These were such simple things, things he used to believe were unimportant. But for the guys who had a woman to love, simple things made a difference. Dec could see that now.

  He opened the car door for Rachel and she slipped inside. Bending down, he tucked the hem of her skirt inside and she turned and smiled at him. And at that moment, it hit him, like running full speed into a brick wall.

  “Oh, God,” he murmured after he shut her door. He was in love with Rachel. He’d been so damn busy protecting her he hadn’t seen what was happening to him. The revelation, though quite sudden, wasn’t as disturbing as he thought it would be. He loved Rachel. What was wrong with that?

  Dec tried to list all the reasons he’d always given for remaining single. He was free to date any woman who walked into his life. His time was his own. There was no one to tell him what to do or where to be. But he didn’t want anyone else but Rachel and he liked spending all his time with her. And she never really told him what to do or where to be. In truth, she was happy to have time to herself.

  He got into the car and fumbled with the key in the ignition. Dec glanced over at Rachel, only to find her watching him, a frown on her face.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “Sure,” he said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I don’t know. You look a little pale.” She reached out and placed a hand on his forehead. “Are you feeling sick?”

  Dec shook his head. “Nope, I’m just a little hungry.”

  “We can stop and pick up something to eat before group. I’ll be tied up from ten to two, so I’m not going to be able to catch lunch until afterwards.”

  “Naw, I’ll be fine,” he said.

  “We haven’t been getting a whole lot of sleep lately,” she said. “I hope you’re not coming down with something.”

  Dec chuckled. Another benefit to having Rachel in his life-someone to worry over him when he was sick. It was just getting better and better, he mused. “Are you saying I can’t keep up with you?”

  “Of course not,” she replied. “I’m saying maybe we should try to sleep when we go to bed, instead of spending the night in other pursuits.”

  “Baby, as long as we’re in the same room together, sleep is always going to be the last thing on my mind.”

  Rachel shook her head. “You’re incorrigible.”

  No, Dec thought to himself. He was in love. And though he wasn’t ready to say the words out loud, there was a certain satisfaction in knowing they were true and that someday, very soon, he would say them to Rachel.

  “I VOTE WE LET HIM STAY.”

  Rachel smiled at Debbie. “All right. Are you sure about that?”

  “No,” she said. “Kyle told me to vote that way.”

  Rachel turned to Kyle. He held a fake fur blanket and stroked it as he glanced nervously around the room. “Did you tell Debbie how to vote?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “She can never make up her mind. We’ll be here all afternoon if we have to wait for her.”

  Rachel turned back to Debbie. “Why do you think Kyle feels that way, Debbie? Do you-”

  “Can I interrupt here?”

  The group turned to look at Dec, some of the members a bit taken aback by his commanding tone. Rachel sent him a warning glance. “I don’t think you should,” she said.

  “No, I think you should let him talk,” Debbie said.

  Evan raised his hand, then stood up. “He’s not allowed to talk until we vote for him to stay. Then he can talk.”

  “Will you just all get a grip!” The group turned to Daryl, who sat in his chair wearing a pair of rabbit slippers. “We have an hour. If we spend half the time talking about voting and the other half voting, then the vote is a moot point.”

  “My point exactly,” Dec said. “Thank you. Now, rather than discuss this, I thought we might have a show of hands. How many people want me to stay?”

  “Can we have a secret vote?” Debbie asked.

  “You already voted,” Kyle said.

  “All right,” Dec interrupted. “Everyone, close your eyes. Who thinks it’s all right for me to stay?”

  Rachel watched as everyone slowly put their hand up. Dec nodded, then clapped his hands. “Great. Then it’s settled.”

  “How do we know you’re telling the truth?” Kyle asked.

  “He’s telling the truth,” Rachel said. “Everyone had their hand up.” This was not going well, she thought to herself. Though Dec had been invited to stay and watch her first two groups, she found him a distraction, as did many of her clients. The gamers had questioned him thoroughly and once they learned he was in naval intelligence, they wanted to hear all about it. The sex addicts were interested in hearing about his sexual conquests as a single guy. And now, her furries and plushies, the most fractured of her groups, had suddenly all voted the same. She’d never been able to get them to agree on anything before.

  Rachel cleared her throat. “Now that we’ve got that settled, why don’t we pick up from where we left off last week.”

  “You would be a really good tiger,” Evan said, pointing to Declan.

  Dec blinked in surprise. “A tiger?”

  “Yeah,” Debbie said. “I met a tiger once and he was so hot. He let me touch his tail. It was very erotic.”

  Dec frowned and Rachel could see he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “I actually think Declan would make a good bear,” Rachel suggested. “He’s got the dark hair and the strong jaw. And he does like to growl a lot.”

  “If you could dress up as any animal, what would it be?” The group turned to Janice Krandall, who’d been sitting silently to the right of Rachel. She sent Dec a hesitant smile and it was clear to Rachel that Janice had been immediately smitten with the new member of the group.

  “Declan, what kind of furry would you want to be?” Rachel aske
d.

  Dec considered the question for a long moment. “I guess I’d have to go with a horse. A stallion. A black stallion.” The group stared at him and Dec glanced over at Rachel. “What? Too obvious?”

  “I don’t see a lot of horses as furries,” Evan said. “First of all, they can’t walk on two feet.”

  “Yes, they can,” Janice said. “Those Lippizanner stallions do. And I met a horse once.”

  “Mr. Ed was kind of nice,” Kyle piped up. “And Trigger. They’d make good furries.”

  The rest of the session didn’t go much better. Rachel spent most of the time mediating arguments about whether certain animals could or could not be considered furries. Then, there was a very heated side discussion on the current confusion in the news media between furries and plushies. In the end, Rachel didn’t accomplish anything beyond providing Dec with absolute proof that Janice Krandall couldn’t possibly be capable of stalking her.

  When the group finally left, Rachel sat back in her chair and watched Dec with a smug smile. “Are you satisfied?”

  “I really wanted to be a stallion,” he teased.

  Rachel growled, then stood up. “I’m talking about Janice Krandall. You must know she couldn’t be the one doing this.”

  Dec nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. Besides, she told me she was out of town last weekend at a furry convention in Atlantic City. She couldn’t have trashed your office.”

  “Good. So we’ve ruled out my clients. What’s next?”

  Dec frowned. “Explain to me this furry thing. They dress up in animal costumes and they mess around?”

  “It’s like a disguise they wear,” Rachel said. “A way to hide their fears about relationships and the opposite sex. It’s no different than what you might do when you meet a woman you’re attracted to. You might tell a few stories, exaggerate a little, try to impress her. We all have our fears of rejection. The furries hide theirs behind a costume.”

  “That’s a little sad,” Dec said.

  “It’s just the way it is,” Rachel replied. “Everyone has their oddities and foibles. You’d probably get turned on if I wore a French maid’s outfit, right?”

  Dec chuckled. “Are you saying you’d wear a French maid’s outfit for me?”

  “I’m saying that you relate a French maid with something sexy. These people relate a person in an animal costume with something sexy. It’s not that wide a leap between the two.”

  Rachel stood up and walked to her desk, then put her legal pad into her briefcase. “I just think that so many people are out there trying to make a connection,” she continued. “To find someone who might want to love them. And sometimes we have to make that happen however we can, even if it means dressing up in an animal suit. I don’t judge any of my clients, or anyone for that matter. As long as they don’t hurt someone else or themselves, then I think it’s all right.”

  “So then why are you trying to convince them to put their suits away?” Dec asked.

  “That’s not what I’m trying to do. I’m trying to give them a way to see what affection and attraction can be like outside the suit. And maybe they’ll find out that they can function pretty well without all that fake fur.”

  Dec walked to the door, then stopped Rachel before she opened it. He ran a finger along her jawline then gave her a gentle kiss. “I don’t know how you do it,” he murmured.

  “Do what?”

  “You don’t make judgments,” he said.

  “I don’t see the point,” she said. “When it comes to sex and love, sometimes the journey is as important as the destination.”

  Rachel looked up into his eyes, losing herself for a few moments in the deep blue depths. Was he falling in love with her? Or was that just her imagination playing tricks on her? Or was it wishful thinking? He seemed genuinely fond of her, that much she could say. But Rachel still couldn’t separate the man from the job. How much of what he said and did was part of his protecting her?

  “I think I’d like to go home,” Rachel said.

  “All right. Let’s go. I’ve got some things in the fridge we can make for lunch.”

  “No,” Rachel said. “I want to go to my house.”

  Dec paused. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”

  “I don’t care. I just want to lay down on my bed and close my eyes and pretend that my life is going to get back to normal soon. If you’re good at what you do, then you can protect me there. At least for a few hours.”

  “All right,” Dec said. “But when I say it’s time to leave, then it’s time to leave.”

  Rachel nodded, then smiled. “Thanks,” she murmured.

  They walked out of the downtown office building and strolled the two blocks to where Dec had parked the car. They’d driven only a few minutes when Dec cursed softly. “I think we’re being followed,” he murmured.

  Rachel twisted to look out the back window, but he stopped her. “Don’t look. Just pretend we don’t see her.”

  “It’s her?” Rachel asked.

  “I’m not sure. Let me try to lose the tail and we’ll see.” He made a couple of crazy turns, switching lanes at the last minute and watching in the rearview mirror. Rachel held her breath, her heart slamming in her chest. Every now and then, she could see the car in the side view mirror. But then, suddenly, she watched as it turned off behind them.

  “Is she gone?”

  Dec nodded. “For now.”

  “It was probably just someone going in the same direction as we were. Now we’re both getting paranoid.”

  “No,” Dec said. “That car was definitely following us. And it fits the description of the car that Jerry gave me.”

  “Jerry gave you a description?”

  “Of a car that he’d seen around the station,” Dec said. He shook his head. “I don’t like this, Rachel. I don’t think we should go to your house. It just doesn’t feel right.”

  “Can we at least just stop there?” Rachel begged. “I need to pick up some more clothes and I forgot to grab that cookbook that I wanted.”

  “We’ll go tonight,” he said. “After things quiet down. I promise.”

  “All right,” she said.

  He stared out the front window, watching the traffic and glancing in the rearview mirror every few seconds. Rachel hated when he was forced to be the professional. The Declan Quinn she loved disappeared-the humor, the wit, the boyish charm-and was replaced by a cool, calculating stranger.

  “So, how do you think I’d look in that maid’s outfit?” she asked.

  A grin twitched at his mouth and after a moment, he chuckled. “Pretty damn good,” he said.

  10

  RACHEL STOOD AT THE top of the stairs and called down to Dec. “Did you find the cookbook?”

  “No,” he shouted. “What’s it called again?”

  “Comfort Farm Cookbook,” she said. “It has a picture of an apple pie on the front cover.” She walked back into her bedroom and resumed searching her closet. She’d come to the conclusion that her wardrobe was in sad need of an update. All her clothes were entirely too conservative, not sexy. And she wanted to dress sexy now that she’d met Dec. He appreciated it and she liked his compliments.

  “You are such a girl,” Rachel muttered to herself.

  She grabbed a flowered skirt, then turned to walk to the dresser. But she froze when she saw a woman standing in the middle of her bedroom. Slowly, the woman aimed a gun at her and Rachel felt the blood suddenly run cold in her body.

  They stared at each other for a long time without speaking. And then, Rachel realized she knew the woman. “Marcy?”

  “I didn’t think you’d remember,” Marcy said. “When Daniel introduced us at the Christmas party, you barely looked at me. I knew right away.”

  “Marcy, what are you doing?”

  “What I should have done weeks ago, only I was too afraid. I’m not afraid anymore.”

  “How did you get in?” Rachel asked.

  “The key. You had an ext
ra in your desk at the university. I took it.”

  “Rachel!” Dec’s voice echoed up the stairs. “I found it. Now come on, let’s go. It’s getting dark.”

  Marcy slowly crossed the room and held the gun up to Rachel’s head. “Answer him,” she said. “Answer, or I’ll shoot.”

  “All right.” Rachel called, “I’ll be down in a minute. I’m just looking for that outfit that we talked about in the car.” Rachel said a silent prayer that Dec’s curiosity would get the better of him. She couldn’t deal with this alone. He would know what to do.

  “Sit down,” Marcy said. “On the end of the bed.”

  Rachel did as she was told and Marcy sat down behind her. Closing her eyes, Rachel tried to gather her courage. If she could get Marcy talking, maybe she could convince her to put the gun down.

  “How did you know about the radio station?” Rachel asked.

  “You told my husband and he tells me everything about you. He’s concerned about this stalker you have and of course, I pretend I’m concerned, too. But I’m really not. I’m just listening and smiling and waiting for my chance.”

  Marcy’s voice trembled and Rachel imagined her finger twitching on the trigger of the handgun. “You don’t want to do this, Marcy,” she said. “There’s no reason.”

  “I want you out of our lives,” the woman shouted, anger turning her voice strident. “Ever since you came around, things have been different.”

  “That’s not true,” Rachel said.

  A moment later, Dec appeared in the doorway. Rachel looked at him, sending him a silent plea. “Declan Quinn, this is Marcy Ellsworth, Daniel’s wife. She just stopped by for a visit.”

  Marcy quickly got to her feet and stood beside Rachel, the barrel of the gun now pressed against Rachel’s temple. Dec held out his hand and slowly moved forward. Though he was there to protect her, she couldn’t bear the thought of him being hurt because of a situation she had caused. “Don’t, Dec,” she said, stopping him in his tracks. “It’ll be all right.”

  He glanced at Marcy, then back at Rachel, sending her a warning glare. But Rachel simply smiled at him. “Marcy and I are friends,” she said. “We’ll find a way to work this out, won’t we, Marcy?”