The Trigger

by Jacqueline Diamond

  “Sam!” She didn’t try to hide her exasperation. “Don’t shut me out!”

  “We’re on the job,” he reminded her. “If you want to talk about private stuff, we can do it tonight.”

  “Fine.” Nora’s throat squeezed at the coldness of his manner. The fact that he hadn’t even cracked a smile seemed to confirm her worst fears.

  His behavior reminded her of the way he’d shut Elaine out. This time, however, Nora had a suspicion what might be bothering Sam, because of something his sister had said earlier. Maybe he’d rather give her up than accept the kind of risks she ran.

  At Speedman, the guard called ahead, and then waved them through the gate. Nora drove around to the side and parked near Rose’s office.

  A secretary ushered them into the president’s office. Ms. Chang, looking not at all surprised to see them, shook hands with Sam and Nora.

  “I talked to Barbara on the phone a few minutes ago,” she said as she waved them into seats. “Her mother’s taken a turn for the better, I’m happy to say.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” Nora made a mental note to send flowers.

  Rose paced across the room. “I apologize for not answering your questions about the driver. If I had, you might have wrapped this up a lot sooner.”

  “True,” Sam said.

  “When I saw a picture of that man, Bud Patchett, in the newspaper this morning, it rang a bell,” the president continued. “I’ve seen him around, although not recently.”

  Nora sat up straighter. “Around Speedman? What was he doing here?”

  “Dating one of the secretaries,” Rose replied. “Her name’s Terri Simms and she works in the engineering department. She’s horrified about what happened. I hope she’s not going to face criminal charges.”

  “That depends on what she did,” Nora said. “And on whether she’s willing to cooperate.”

  “Of course.” The president buzzed her assistant on the intercom. “Please ask Ms. Simms in engineering to join us.” After clicking off, she added, “You’re welcome to use my office to interview her.”

  “Under the circumstances,” Sam said, “we’d prefer to take her to the station.”

  Sam hadn’t checked with Nora, but she agreed. “She’s a material witness to a series of murders and attempted murders,” Nora explained. “This is going to take a while.”

  “Are you arresting her?” Rose asked, troubled.

  “Not at this point.” Sam couldn’t promise any more than that.

  Terri Simms turned out to be an attractive woman in her thirties with anxiety written all over her. She waived her right to an attorney. “I want to get this cleared up. I had no idea Bud intended to commit any crimes.”

  She rode back to the station with them and spent the next few hours filling in the missing blanks. With her permission, Sam set up a video camera to record the session.

  She’d met Bud through his brother and dated him occasionally, Terri said. After Tim’s death, he’d disappeared for a while.

  Aware of his lawsuit against Speedman, she’d understood why he didn’t want to see her. When he began calling after the case was thrown out, he’d lost his usual ebullience.

  “I knew he must be depressed and I wanted to help,” she said. “He asked for information about the chip, how it was developed and what went wrong. I thought getting answers might help resolve his grief.”

  “You gave him company documents?” Sam asked.

  Tears glistened in her eyes. “Yes. I’m going to lose my job, I know, and I deserve to,” Terri said. “All those people died partly because of me, but I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

  Nora couldn’t deny a twinge of sympathy for Terri Simms. She’d learned an expensive lesson about trusting the wrong person. On the other hand, if she hadn’t violated her company’s trust in her, she wouldn’t be in this situation.

  “What about the e-mails?” Nora asked. “How did he gain access to the computer system at Speedman?”

  Terri blew her nose before continuing. “I guess he saw me input my password. He must have been watching the keystrokes. He offered to help fix my computer once when it kept screwing up, and maybe that helped him get access, too.”

  “Didn’t you ever get suspicious?” Sam asked.

  “Once.” She swallowed hard. “He started raving about a conspiracy of silence. He said each of the people who approved the chip had personally struck a blow against Tim. I tried to calm him down. I said he didn’t even know for sure that it hadn’t been a surfing accident.”

  Nora listened intently. “How did he react?”

  “He started shouting that Tim had called him right after the crash and complained about dizziness,” Terri said. “Bud urged him to see a doctor but he shrugged it off.”

  “So Bud knew about his condition. Maybe he felt guilty that he didn’t insist on getting help.” Nora began to understand Bud’s motivation better. “It must have devastated him when Tim went surfing and drowned, so he turned his rage on others.”

  “The people at Speedman swore under oath that Tim hadn’t shown any signs of injury,” Terri explained. “Bud said they lied. But I honestly don’t think Tim told anyone except his brother.”

  “And Bud cracked.” Sam shook his head. “I always thought he was stronger than that.”

  The secretary took a sip from what must be her third or fourth cup of tea that afternoon. “Ms. Chang said once that, in Asia, people consider bamboo strong, even though it looks fragile to us, because it can bend in a storm. Bud was too brittle. That’s why he snapped.” She sighed. “I feel so awful about the people who died. Thank you for saving Ms. Noot. And I hope Mr. Garcola’s all right.”

  “He’s getting better,” Nora assured her.

  Finally they released the witness. Although the D.A. would review the case, her full cooperation and obvious ignorance of Bud’s intent should weigh in her favor.

  Nora checked her watch. Five twenty-eight. Although massive amounts of paperwork remained to be processed, her cuts were starting to throb. Besides, no one expected them to wrap up such a complex case overnight.

  She still wanted the promised talk with Sam, but before she could bring it up, he headed for the door. “I’ve got errands to run,” he said. “How about dropping by my place around eight?”

  “I’ll see you there,” she said.

  With a casual wave, he strode out.

  No welcoming dinner, no pretense of camaraderie. Well, he wasn’t going to escape that easily, Nora vowed. If Sam Prophet intended to break off with her tonight, she’d make yesterday’s explosions look like child’s play.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  DARKNESS HAD FALLEN by the time Nora pulled to the curb in front of Sam’s stucco home. A cascade of white sparkles illuminated a small tree in the front, and Malibu lamps marked the curving walk.

  She’d accused him of decorating the house so completely that he left no room for anyone else’s taste. Tonight, however, she saw the place as a beautiful extension of his personality.

  Sam had put a tremendous amount of work and love into this cheerful home, Nora reflected as she rang the doorbell. The events of the past few days had changed her perspective.

  The memory of his protectiveness yesterday wrapped her in contentment. Not only had he saved her life, he’d become a real partner in every sense. Their lovemaking had not blended them into a single person—she was too independent for that to happen—but into a real team.

  At least, she hoped so.

  Hearing footsteps inside, Nora straightened. She knew she needed him. But she also needed to be herself, because otherwise, even the most charming refuge in the world could turn into a trap.

  When Sam opened the door, his expression warmed at the sight of her. He’d changed into jeans and a denim shirt, open at the throat. The array of adhesive bandages on his neck contributed to his raffish air. His hair begged to be mussed, but Nora held herself in check.

  The scent of cinnamon filled the air. “
Cider?”

  “I’m baking an apple pie. The frozen kind.” Sam loomed in the doorway. “Hope you’re hungry enough for dessert.”

  Fast-food fried chicken hadn’t filled her that completely. “With ice cream?”

  “Is vanilla okay?” he teased.

  “Any kind of ice cream is fine. Are you going to let me in or are you going to stand there blocking the door all night?”

  He gave no sign of moving. “I want to apologize first.”

  “For what?”

  “The house is kind of littered. It’s not up to my usual standards.” Only a quirk at the corners of his mouth betrayed his deadpan expression.

  “Who cares?” Nora couldn’t wait to find out what the man was up to. “I’m the last person to worry about your housekeeping.”

  “See for yourself.” He shifted aside.

  When she entered the living room, Nora didn’t notice anything amiss. The same tasteful furniture filled the elegant space and the same arrangement of pottery graced the mantel.

  Then she noticed a piece of paper taped to a blank space on the wall. Approaching it, she read aloud, “This space reserved for…messy bookshelves?” To Sam, she said, “What’s that all about?”

  “Read on.” He indicated the coffee table.

  A lined sheet that lay atop it read, “Feel free to put your feet and mug here.”

  With growing amusement, Nora paced through the house. On the archway leading to the bedroom wing, a note declared, “These rooms subject to redecorating, when appropriate.” Outside the bathroom, a message informed her, “Plenty of room for another toothbrush.”

  Could this possibly be what it appeared? She tried not to read too much into it. This might represent Sam’s idea of a joke.

  In the kitchen, after she got past the mouthwatering apple pie smell, she read an eye-level memo: “Feel free to rearrange the cabinets.” On the patio slider, he’d pasted a note, “This garden subject to change by mutual consent.”

  Nora stood rooted to the spot, staring into a yard transformed into a fantasyland by an array of delicate lights. Tears pricked her eyes. Sam must have hurried home from work to write these notes for her. But what did they mean?

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “Maybe I’d better explain.” Sam’s voice came from directly behind her.

  Without turning around, she said, “That ought to help.”

  “Something Terri said today got through to me.” His breath warmed her neck. “It was the part about bamboo being strong because it can yield.”

  A yearning filled Nora for things she hadn’t dared hope for. But she couldn’t answer until he made himself clear.

  “I’ve always figured I was pretty darn strong,” Sam went on. “Dad used to say Mom was the strongest member of the family, but I assumed he was exaggerating.”

  Puzzled, Nora went on listening.

  “I didn’t realize it took more guts for her to let him go, to accept his putting his life on the line, than it took for him to do it.” He stood behind her, talking without touching. “It was harder because she didn’t have any control over what happened. He got to make choices and she didn’t. In the end, he lost his life, but she had to go on living without him, so maybe she lost even more than he did.”

  After seeing Sam lying crumpled on the pavement, Nora grasped what he meant. But she’d rather take that risk than give him up. The question was, did he feel that way about her?

  “So I guess…” He gave a little cough before continuing. “I guess I’d better learn how to be strong like bamboo.”

  He stopped. She couldn’t respond, maybe because she wanted so badly for him to mean what she hoped he meant.

  Go on, she urged silently. And waited.

  SAM WONDERED if he’d gone about this the wrong way. The notes had seemed like a good idea and he’d just shared the flash of insight he’d gained today, yet Nora still stood with her back turned.

  In the glass, he made out the oval of her face but nothing of her expression. What was she thinking? What was a guy supposed to say?

  There ought to be an instruction manual to tell men how to move a relationship to the next phase. Unfortunately, he didn’t have such a guide, so he had to work this out for himself.

  “Since Dad died, I’ve been trying to make sure I’d never lose anyone like that again,” Sam conceded. “But security’s an illusion. It finally hit me that you have to live in the moment, to take what life gives you, or you miss the best parts.”

  “Which best parts?” In the glass, he saw Nora brush aside a hank of hair that had fallen across her forehead.

  “The parts where you knock the sheets off the bed and eat ice cream for breakfast and laugh over stupid jokes that nobody else understands.” In the absence of feedback, he struggled onward. “What I’m trying to say is that, for me, getting close to someone is the biggest risk of all. You can’t manipulate the odds into your favor. You have to go with it. And that’s what I want to do, if you do, too.”

  When Nora remained silent, he wondered if he’d said too much. Maybe she didn’t share his feelings. Maybe, for her, this had been a short-term, on-the-job romance that wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Sam Prophet,” she said softly, turning to face him. “That was beautiful.”

  “It was?” To him, his words had sounded awkward.

  “You took a big risk,” she said. “You trusted me enough to tell me what you’re feeling.”

  “Actually, it’s more than that.” Sam decided he might as well go all the way. “I’m asking you to move in with me, if you’d like to.”

  “You’re sure I wouldn’t drive you crazy?” Nora asked.

  “You might, but you’re worth it.” He hurried on. “I want to trip over your clothes on the floor and grumble about the dishes in the sink and get a hernia squeezing into your ridiculous little car where we practically have sex every time you shift gears. And I want to wake up every morning holding you in my arms.”

  Uh-oh. She had tears on her lashes. Maybe he’d blown it.

  “I had kind of a funny experience yesterday,” Nora said.

  Sam had no idea where she was going with this but he hoped she’d hurry, because he could hardly breathe.

  “It used to make me mad when people worried about me, because it felt like they were trying to hold me down.” Her blue eyes shone as she gazed at him. “When I saw you lying there with the paramedics swarming over you, well, I’ve never been as scared for myself as I was for you.”

  “It could happen again,” he warned.

  “To either of us.”

  “Exactly.”

  They leaned forward instinctively until their foreheads touched, as if they could read each other’s thoughts that way.

  “So let’s make the most of what we’ve got,” Nora said.

  “Sounds good to me.”

  For them, danger would always be an omnipresent shadow, he reflected, but he intended to cherish every moment life granted them. Starting now, he decided as he gathered her into a kiss.

  SIX MONTHS LATER, they were married at the Church By the Sea with family, friends, and a large contingent of police and fire personnel in attendance. It wasn’t easy preparing for the ceremony: Sam’s insistence that they visit every jewelry store in town and compare rings on-line nearly drove Nora to distraction, while her half-serious suggestion that the two of them roller-skate down the aisle tempted him to propose an elopement.

  But not only did they iron out their differences, they had fun doing it. And as Nora walked toward him on her father’s arm, Sam reflected that he’d never seen a woman look so beautiful. When she stood beside him, he could scarcely hear the minister’s words through his surge of joy.

  He remembered watching her mahogany hair float in the sunshine as she drove up to the motel that first day they’d worked together. He’d believed there was no woman on earth less suited to him than Nora Keyes.

  Sam Prophet had never been happier to be wrong.
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  ISBN: 978-1-4268-4513-0

  THE TRIGGER

  Copyright © 2005 by Harlequin Books S.A.

  Jacqueline Diamond is acknowledged as the author of this work.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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