Failsafe

by Traci Hunter Abramson

  “Yeah, but you don’t like math.”

  “And you do.” Jake handed the checkbook back to her. “You probably just saved me hours of work.”

  “I’m glad I could help,” Hannah said. “After I make lunch, I’ll take a look and make sure everything else looks okay, but you might want to call the bank and have them take a look at the problem so they can fix it.”

  “I will. How long do you think it will take you? Max said we need to have payroll out tomorrow.”

  Hannah took a peek at the stack of checks. “This won’t take long. Maybe an hour or two.”

  “That’s all?”

  “It doesn’t look that complicated.”

  “Wow. In that case, I’m going to abandon you and get back to work.”

  “Have fun.”

  “You too,” Jake said sarcastically.

  “I think we may both be happiest if I leave the writing to you and you leave the math to me.”

  Jake nodded in agreement. “We may be the perfect match.” With another quick kiss on her cheek, he disappeared back the way he’d come, leaving Hannah to her task.

  Chapter 27

  Erik skirted along the back wall of the run-down structure in the heart of Hanoi. He used the linens hanging on the nearby clothesline to conceal his movement, and he struggled not to gag from the stench of garbage that wafted on the air from a nearby trash can.

  He silently wished he could spend the night in his apartment in Taipei, Taiwan, but for the past few weeks, he had been hopping from one flight to the next, helping undercover operatives establish new identities as crisis after crisis continued to pop up. This was the fifth country he had visited in the past two weeks, and he was ready for some downtime.

  When he reached the back door of his destination, he slid a tool from his pocket and picked the lock as quickly as most people could turn a key. He slid the tool back into his pocket, his hand now resting on the knife sheathed at his waist. He pushed the door open to reveal a Vietnamese woman in her early forties dressed in plain brown cotton pants and a tunic-style top.

  The terror on the woman’s face was quickly replaced by relief. “I thought you wouldn’t come,” she said quietly in English, only the slightest accent evident in her words.

  “Time to go,” Erik said, grateful to see her luggage consisted of a single backpack. He hated when he tried to help people disappear from a country and they tried to bring all of their belongings.

  “Are you sure the threat is real?” she asked.

  “We aren’t sure of anything, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.” The words were barely out of his mouth when the door on the far side of the room burst open, sunlight illuminating the figure in the doorway.

  The woman let out a gasp.

  “Where do you think you’re going? We have some questions for you.” The man stepped forward, and Erik was now able to identify the police uniform he wore.

  The thought crossed Erik’s mind that he was tired of beating up police officers. He shifted his grip on his knife and let it fly. Its butt connected with the policeman’s forehead, stunning him and sending him stumbling. Erik waved the woman toward the back door and moved forward long enough to punch the man in the jaw to make sure he went down.

  He collected his knife, then shooed the woman outside and raced with her along the railroad tracks that cut through her neighborhood, both of them anxious to disappear from view.

  * * *

  Jake stared at the words on the page. This book was so close to being done, but even after several weeks of writing full time, he still hadn’t figured out how to bridge his main character from the past to the future. As he looked out the window to see the darkness of the night, the knock on his back door startled him. Expecting to find Max on his doorstep again, he pulled it open. He was surprised to find Hannah standing there instead.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, but you have to see this.” She reached for his hand and motioned toward the fields.

  He looked down at his feet long enough to make sure he still had his shoes on before letting her pull him outside. “What is it?”

  She led him away from the lights of the house and pointed up at the sky. “Look.”

  He lifted his eyes heavenward and saw streaks of light raining through the sky. “It must be a meteor shower. I saw something on the news about this.”

  “There must be hundreds of them. Isn’t it beautiful?”

  Even in the darkness, he could see the wonder in her eyes. “Yeah, it is.”

  Her hand warm in his, they stood together staring up at the sky, the only sound coming from the crickets in the field and an occasional barn owl. Several minutes passed, and Jake heard a new sound, a scratching near the garbage cans.

  Hannah startled, and Jake was surprised by her trepidation. “Are you okay?”

  “What was that?” she asked, her voice low.

  “Probably just some raccoons looking for food. They can be pests, but they won’t hurt anything.”

  She appeared to relax a little, and he looked back up at the sky.

  The lights above him and the background noise combined to send Jake’s imagination racing. “A meteor shower.” His eyes lit up with clarity even as he saw the confusion on Hannah’s face. He gripped both of her shoulders excitedly. “That’s it!”

  Jake released her and jogged back inside. He didn’t even bother to close the door behind him in his haste to get to his computer. The solution he had been searching so desperately for had finally revealed itself to him. He dropped into his chair and began to type furiously. He was vaguely aware of the door quietly clicking shut a few minutes later, but time ceased to matter.

  Several hours passed unnoticed as he bridged the gaps in his book, occasionally taking the time to weave elements into the words already written. He rubbed a hand over a kink in his neck and looked at the clock to see that it was after midnight.

  Slowly his mind caught back up with the present, and he remembered what had sparked the flurry of ideas in the first place. “Hannah,” he said aloud.

  Realizing how abruptly he had left her standing alone under the stars and showering meteors, he headed for the main house only to find it dark except for the porch light and a small lamp in the main hall.

  Mentally kicking himself for how he’d ignored her, he turned on the living room light and noticed the fresh flowers on the occasion table.

  Resolved on having to wait until the next morning to apologize to Hannah, he headed for the kitchen for a quick snack. He didn’t have to look far. Glossy apples in a bowl on the table, blueberry muffins in a basket on the counter, each one individually wrapped to keep them fresh, and ginger snaps in the cookie jar. Jake wondered if Hannah knew ginger snaps were his favorite.

  He poured himself a glass of milk to go with his cookies and took them both back to his apartment. No wonder he’d been able to get so much done lately. Since her arrival, Hannah had taken care of so many of his basic needs as well as the responsibility and care of his grandmother.

  A pang of guilt settled in the pit of his stomach. Hannah spent so much of her time thinking of others, yet how often did he put her first? Sure, he tried to give her some time to herself every day, but he had to admit he was benefitting as much as she was when he went on walks with his grandmother or listened to her stories. Looking around the kitchen, he considered what he might be able to do for her. The idea of cooking dinner for her crossed his mind, even knowing his attempts in the kitchen wouldn’t yield anything like what she cooked each day.

  His resolve to make things right with her stirred even more ideas for his novel, his regrets of how he’d taken her for granted foremost in his mind. He returned to his apartment and settled back at his desk. He crafted a sweet scene between his main characters, the male lead doing a good amount of groveling to make up for his shortcomings. When his heroine finally consented to give his hero another chance, Jake popped a cookie into his mouth and pushed himself away from his computer, his heart fee
ling lighter than it had in weeks.

  * * *

  Charlotte had slept fitfully all night. The view of the lights in the sky the night before had felt like a miracle showering over her. Sharing it with Jake had been like a rediscovery of hope. And then he’d rushed off and left her feeling vulnerable and completely alone.

  At first, with the way he’d left his door hanging open, she’d hoped he would come right back. After the minutes stretched out and the solitude became more than she could bear, she had peeked into his apartment to see him completely focused on his computer. She’d tried to convince herself that she shouldn’t be upset with him for choosing to work instead of spend time with her, but the rejection had still stung.

  She expected his work to take priority during the day, but she had come to expect they would spend their evenings together. Ever since the day of their first kiss, she had felt cherished. Last night, she’d felt invisible.

  By the time she had returned to her room, all of her emotions had come crashing down on her. The grief of losing her parents, the fear of being discovered by the men chasing her, her impending meeting with Ace—all of those things individually were enough to unsettle her, but deep down, she knew the thing that brought her to tears was finding herself feeling isolated and alone after coming to depend on Jake for companionship over the past few weeks.

  She’d given up on sleep early and already felt tense at the thought of facing Jake at breakfast. How was she supposed to act? Sure, they’d spent a lot of time together, and it wasn’t uncommon for him to kiss her good night before heading to his apartment each night, but rarely did he talk about what would come next. Since she couldn’t make future plans herself, part of her was relieved they hadn’t broached such discussions. But still, what a fool she had been to let herself depend on him so much. She knew this couldn’t last.

  In less than two weeks, she would find out what she had to do to make things right with the guardians. The password her father had given her was committed to memory. What would happen after she helped reset the database, she didn’t know. Part of her wanted to help rebuild what had been lost, and part of her knew things would never be the same now that her dad was gone.

  With the sun peeking through the window, she tried to shake off her dreary mood in preparation for the job she had to do. One way or another, she had to find a way to face the new day.

  * * *

  Though he had stayed up late the night before to finish the scene he had been working on, Jake made a point of rising early so he could talk to Hannah before his grandmother got up. As expected, Hannah was standing at the stove, her feet bare and a spatula in her hand.

  “Good morning,” Jake said.

  She didn’t turn when she replied quietly, “Good morning.”

  Suspecting that he had upset her by his abrupt behavior the night before, he approached her and put his hands on her shoulders. “I’m sorry I took off the way I did last night. When you showed me the meteor shower, I had this great brainstorm of how I could fix one of the problems I had with my book. I had to get it on paper before I lost it.”

  “I understand,” she said, her manner still more reserved than he was accustomed to.

  Jake slid his hands down to grip her forearms and leaned down to rest his chin on her shoulder. Now able to see her face, he asked, “Are you going to forgive me for being rude and obnoxious?”

  “Maybe.”

  “You realize I owe you now.”

  Hannah stirred the hash browns in front of her and turned the heat down to low. “It’s not that big a deal, Jake.” Her shoulders lifted slightly despite his chin resting there. “I thought last night was amazing, and I’d hoped to share it with you. I was disappointed when you ran off the way you did, but it’s not the end of world.”

  Jake took the spatula out of her hand, set it aside, and turned her to face him. “So you were upset with me last night, yet when you saw me working, you just closed the door and left?”

  “Well, yeah. It was pretty obvious you found some sort of inspiration, and I didn’t want to get in the way of whatever it was.” Again her shoulders lifted. “What else was I supposed to do?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. You could have yelled, screamed, thrown things.”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “You were in another world. I doubt you would have noticed.”

  “You’re probably right,” Jake admitted. “Look, I really am sorry. Artistic temperaments can be selfish sometimes. What can I do to make it up to you? Can I take you out to dinner or something? Or we could go into town and catch a movie. Or I could fix dinner tonight.”

  “It’s fine, really.”

  “It’s not fine. You mean a lot to me. I was a jerk, and you deserve better.” He saw the way her eyes lowered, and he hated knowing he had hurt her. “I hope you’ll give me a chance to do better.”

  Her eyes lifted to meet his, and he saw the shimmer of tears. Again his stomach clenched, and he was annoyed at himself for letting his work take priority. “Can you forgive me?” he asked.

  “I can try,” she said, her voice low.

  Hoping to soothe away some of the pain and tension between them, Jake leaned down and kissed her softly. “You’re too good for me, you know.”

  “I’m glad you think so.” Hannah reached for a plate beside the stove and scooped scrambled eggs and hash browns onto it. Turning, she handed it to Jake. “You’d better eat while it’s hot.”

  “Tell you what. If I don’t come out of my apartment by six, come get me, and I’ll force myself to take at least an hour break.”

  “You know, Jake, the one thing I don’t want is for you to feel like you have to force yourself to spend time with me,” Hannah said, a hint of frustration in her voice. “I know things have been different with us for the past couple weeks, but I do still work for you, and I don’t want to mess that up.”

  “I’ve really enjoyed the time I’ve spent with you. I don’t want to mess it up either. I’ve just had problems in the past with dating when I get on a roll. Sometimes I’ll go for days before I really come up for air. I know it’s selfish to bury myself in my work like that, but when a story captures me that way, I don’t know any other way to write.”

  “I can see how that might make someone feel neglected, but you don’t have to worry about me. I understand you’re working,” Hannah said. “I gather you’re on a roll with your story?”

  “Actually, since you’ve been here, my schedule has been a lot more consistent,” Jake said.

  “I imagine that has more to do with the lack of distractions here than it does with me,” Hannah said. “Do you have any idea how close you are to being done?”

  Jake thought about it for a minute. “If I can get a few more days like yesterday, I might be able to wrap up the rough draft by next week or the week after.”

  “That’s great.” Hannah motioned to the refrigerator. “Why don’t you get yourself something to drink? I’ll finish fixing you a plate.”

  “You really are amazing. You know that, right?”

  Hannah shrugged off the compliment. “I’m not amazing. I’m just enjoying the peace and quiet of the country.”

  “I hope you keep enjoying it for a long time.”

  Hannah cocked her head to one side. “I hope you do too.” She handed Jake his plate, along with a fork and a napkin. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I assume you’re going to take that with you.”

  “Actually, I thought it would be nice to sit down and eat together.” Jake set his plate down on the table and glanced up at her. “And for the record, you’re plenty distracting.”

  Chapter 28

  Charlotte rolled out the last of the bread dough into a circle, cutting it into triangles as she might slice a pizza. She rolled each one up into a crescent shape and placed them onto a cookie sheet. After covering the rolls with a lightweight kitchen towel, she set them aside. She was debating whether she should make baked ziti or heat up the leftover
salmon when she heard the front door open.

  A flutter of excitement rippled through her. Jake had driven to Richmond to take care of legal matters and said he planned to look for more details on the information she had given him. Maybe he had found something about the Richardsons. She hurried into the hallway, coming to a halt when she saw a woman around her age standing in the front hall rather than Jake.

  The woman looked equally surprised to see her. Tall and thin, her light-brown hair was perfectly styled, and Charlotte was certain her clothes were designer. Her green eyes were the same shade as Jake’s, only hers held suspicion rather than warmth.

  “Who are you?” she asked shrilly. “And why are you wearing my mother’s favorite shirt?”

  “I’m Hannah.” Charlotte looked down at the soft flannel button-up she often wore over T-shirts in an effort to ward off the evening chill. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know this was her favorite. Jake said it would be okay if I borrowed a few things.”

  “Well, it’s not okay. I want you to go take that off right now,” she said sharply.

  Speechless, Charlotte’s cheeks flushed, and she hurried past the woman and up the stairs. So much for making a good impression on Jake’s sister. Mortified by Kennedy’s reaction, she went into her room and took off the borrowed clothes. Though she had hoped not to have to wear them again, she changed into her old-fashioned blouse and skirt.

  She debated whether she should hide out in her room until Kennedy left, or at least until Jake returned home, but a glance at the clock on the wall revealed that wasn’t an option. The last time she had checked on Abigail, she’d been reading in her room. It was only a matter of time before she looked at the clock and decided she should come help with dinner.

  The front door opened again when she was halfway down the stairs. Jake stepped inside and looked at her quizzically. “Why are you wearing those clothes?”

  Charlotte searched for words as color washed into her cheeks once more. Sheer embarrassment prevented her from replaying her conversation with Kennedy. Instead she said, “I believe your sister is here.”