Nothing to Fear

by Karen Rose

  “You’re right. I’ll calm down.” Dana felt like she’d swallowed a brick. She hadn’t experienced this kind of raw fear since she discovered Evie’s broken body two years before, strangled and stabbed. Left for dead. And now Caroline had been struck by a car, left for dead. The day after Lillian’s funeral.

  Dana’s blood ran cold. Hit-and-run. It could have been Goodman. He could have followed Caroline from Dana’s apartment. But he doesn’t know where I live, she thought desperately. Unless . . . He followed me from Lillian’s funeral yesterday after I’d picked up Evie. Damn that girl. Rage sluiced through her, leaving her shaken. But rage would help no one, and neither would her fear. She took one of her own fear management lessons and visualized herself sweeping the fears into a box. Locking it tightly. And walking away.

  Think of something else. Someone else. “So did you get any business with Bill Bush?”

  Ethan slanted her a look from the corner of his eye. “Not yet. I haven’t given up, though. You’re looking a little better.”

  She was feeling calmer. “Thanks. I need to call Evie about Caroline. I didn’t want to call her when I was so upset.”

  “Who’s Evie?”

  “She’s my . . .” What? What had her relationship with Evie become? “I’m her guardian.” They were nearing their exit. “You want to exit here.”

  He acknowledged with a nod. “Why are you her guardian? What relation is she to you?”

  Dana considered her answer. Telling him the truth wouldn’t be too dangerous. It might even come in handy should she ever tell him the whole truth. If. “Evie was a runaway. Now she’s family.”

  Ethan fished his cell phone from his pocket. “Call her. Let her know about Caroline.”

  Dana didn’t have to consider anything there. She would not call Hanover House from Ethan’s cell phone. “That’s okay. I’ll just wait till I get to the hospital.”

  Chicago, Monday, August 2, 8:15 P.M.

  “It’s done.”

  Sitting on her bed, holding the cell against her shoulder as she painted her toenails, Sue smiled. “I know.” The news had come through Evie, who was white-faced and trembling. And mad enough to spit nails. Apparently she’d been all ready to go to the hospital when Dana called and commanded her to stay put. Ruby had overheard Evie’s end of the phone conversation and Ruby liked to make sure everyone was well informed.

  “You didn’t tell me she was pregnant.” Fred sounded disgusted.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Okay, fine, but you didn’t say she was ready to pop the kid any second.”

  Sue was amused. “You have some kind of Madonna complex, Fred?”

  There was a moment of petulant silence. “Don’t push me, Susie,” he warned. “I did your favor. Now it’s your turn.”

  “You did half my favor, Fred. She’s still alive. But I’ll be nice and do your favor for you anyway. I know what to do. I’ll take care of it tomorrow.” While she was out “job hunting.” She twisted the top on the nail polish and tossed it in her backpack. “I’ll meet you at noon.”

  Her smile grew. By noon she would have completed several more of the items on her to-do list. She dialed Donnie Marsden’s number. Time to start setting the stage for the finale. “Donnie. It’s me.”

  “I was beginning to think I’d imagined you. Are you ready to tell me about this plan?”

  “Not just yet, but I will.” I’ll be ready when I’m ready. “Have you called the boys?”

  “Yeah, everybody but Vickers. I couldn’t find him.” Not surprising, Sue thought with a smile. The van holding Vickers’s body was parked in the woods behind an elementary school. Someone would find him—eventually. “The guys all want more info,” Donnie went on. “They don’t want to walk into a trap. I don’t blame them.”

  “Tell them the only person that will be lured into a cage will be our little bird.”

  “How?”

  “I have something our bird wants to get back.”

  “And then?”

  Sue wiggled her newly painted toes. Revenge, she thought, was such an individual, personal thing. “Then you each get a half hour to do your worst. Be as creative as you wish. I had ten years to think about my revenge. You have four days to consider yours.”

  There was a moment of silence. “Up to and including what?”

  “I get to finish the job,” Sue said simply. “And our bird needs to know it’s me finishing the job, so no loss of consciousness is allowed. Anything else is your call. If you plan ahead, you can make thirty minutes last a very long time.”

  “What do you get out of all this, Suze?” Donnie’s voice was soft.

  Sue thought about every day of every one of the ten years she spent behind bars. Every birthday she grew older, every day she was trapped into a routine of someone else’s making. She grimaced. Every time Fred forced her into the supply closet for a “heart-to-heart.” The fire that simmered in her gut fanned into a raging flame.

  “I get to watch.”

  Chicago, Monday, August 2, 8:15 P.M.

  Dana focused on the elevator display. “You don’t have to come with me. I’m fine now.”

  “I don’t think so, but I’m not going to argue with you,” Ethan replied smoothly and watched a worry line form across her brow. She wasn’t fine, Ethan thought. She was still trembling from the argument she’d had with Evie from a pay phone in the hospital lobby. She’d tersely ordered Evie to stay put before hanging the phone up with a slam. Another day he might have pressed for information, but he knew this wasn’t the time. Besides, she had promised to talk about herself next time and he planned to hold her to it.

  The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, exposing the nurses’ desk of the maternity ward. A nurse pointed to a waiting room in response to Dana’s request for Caroline.

  Ethan caught her arm before she could charge away. “I’m going to go now. I didn’t want to intrude, I just wanted to be sure you were all right.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, and had stepped back to go when her hand shot out and clutched his lapel.

  “Stay,” she murmured. “I know you have to go, but if you could stay for just another minute or two, I’d appreciate it.”

  Her voice was totally calm, but there was an underlying thread of yearning that was impossible to refuse. Ethan drew her into his arms and let her hold on. She did, silently, her grip on his back almost bruising. Finally she let go with a shaky breath and looked up to meet his eyes. “Thank you. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  Ethan smiled down at her. “I’m sure I’ll live.” He brushed a lock of hair away from her face, cupped her cheek in his palm. “How can I help you, Dana?”

  Her lips trembled and for a split second he thought her eyes would fill, but she quickly controlled herself and forced her lips to curve. “Meet me for breakfast tomorrow?”

  “It’s a date.” He’d lowered his head to kiss her good-bye when a sharp voice calling Dana’s name had him jerking his chin up. A tall dark man approached, looking grim.

  “We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  Beside Ethan, Dana tensed. “Is she all right?”

  “She’s asleep. The baby’s stable now.” The man cast a harsh look Ethan’s way. “We need to talk, Dana. Privately.”

  “All right. Ethan, meet Caroline’s brother-in-law, David Hunter. David, Ethan Buchanan.”

  Ethan nodded at David. Jaw clenched, David nodded back. The possessiveness in the man’s eyes was unmistakable and Ethan gave in to the adolescent urge to stake his claim, slipping his arm around Dana’s waist. “We’ll just be a minute,” Ethan said.

  Hunter jutted his jaw to one side. “I’ll be in the waiting room with the others.”

  Ethan waited until he was gone before lifting a brow. “The others?”

  “The family,” Dana murmured. “They come together when there’s a crisis. Please forgive David. He’s upset about Caroline. He’s not normally so rude.”

  Hunter was upset, Ethan could ag
ree with that. About what, he might disagree. But because Hunter had just had a shock, Ethan let it go. “I have some appointments early tomorrow.” He wanted to start canvassing the area of this morning’s e-mail at about the time Alec’s kidnapper had sent it. “Can you meet me at six? At the coffee shop?” It would be convenient to the bus station as he planned to view videos all night if he had to.

  “I’ll be there. Ethan, thank you. For everything.” She lifted on her toes, wound one arm around his neck, and kissed him softly. “I’m glad you were with me.” And with that she headed to the waiting room, leaving him wanting a hell of a lot more. He hit the elevator button, brooding a bit. The elevator door dinged when a thought struck him.

  In the car she’d asked him if he’d gotten any business from Bill Bush. Now why would she know the name of the security manager at the bus station? He looked back over his shoulder as he stepped into the elevator, but she was gone. He’d known the first time he’d met her that there was a great deal more to Dana Dupinsky than met the eye. It was time to start figuring out exactly what that “more” was.

  David emerged from the waiting room before Dana stepped through the door. “We need to talk,” he said tightly. “But not around the others.” He led her to a play area, deserted at this time of night. “She’s fine for now,” he said before she could ask. “She fractured her leg and there’s a small tear in the placenta. The baby’s vitals were unstable when they first brought her in, but they were able to get them both stable. The doctor says with rest and no additional stress she could still go to term.”

  Could. Dana shuddered. “Thank God.” But he made no murmur of assent and she looked up to find his gray eyes dark and hard.

  “The driver never tried to stop, Dana. No skid marks, no tires squealing.”

  “You think it was Goodman.”

  His eyes flashed. “Don’t you?”

  “I thought it, in the car over. We should tell Mia.”

  He gritted his teeth. “Dammit, Dana, did it cross your mind this could have been you?”

  She met his gaze without flinching. “It did. I’ve been careful.”

  “Careful. Yeah. So where did you meet that guy?”

  Dana narrowed her eyes at even the notion of comparing Ethan Buchanan to Lillian’s husband. “Bus station, Sunday night.”

  “You were out in the middle of the night, hours after Detective Mitchell told you to keep your doors locked, and you call that careful?”

  Temper started to bubble. “I call it doing my job, David.”

  “Your job is the reason Caroline is lying in there and my brother is scared to death.”

  His words stabbed deep. She wanted to fling back words of her own, but he was right. Caroline is hurt because an irate husband is furious with me. Guilt welled, and with it the fear of what Goodman might try next. The fear she could handle, could push into the little box in her mind, but the guilt lay in her gut, making her feel sick. She sighed, suddenly tired. “David, we’ve both had a scare. Let’s just step back and call Mia and figure out where to go from there.”

  David looked away. “Fine. Call.”

  Wight’s Landing, Monday, August 2, 9:45 P.M. Eastern (8:45 P.M. Central)

  Wight’s Landing advertised its scenic views and James Lorenzano had to admit that they didn’t lie. From where he sat enjoying his beer and crabcakes, he could watch scenic bartender Pattie in a little white tank top shaking both martinis and breasts that actually might be real. There’d been a time when he thought he might never again enjoy the simple pleasure of watching a woman’s questionably real breasts in a little white tank top. That time had been recently as he’d lain in a pool of his own blood while the paramedics responded to the 911 placed by the bystander that had by pure chance come along in time to scare Sue away before she could finish the job.

  He had been stupid not to see it coming, but he’d been too busy enjoying Sue’s very real breasts. He made it a policy never to do clients, but Sue had been so tempting. She’d tricked him that night, slowed him down by putting something in his drink. Which, ironically enough, had been celebratory champagne. Her treat. A celebration picnic. He’d tracked down her mystery woman in Florida and she’d been ever so grateful.

  They’d see how grateful she was when he caught up to her.

  Tracking Sue to Wight’s Landing had been a royal pain in the ass. He’d come out of the hospital looking for her, his first stop being her apartment. Empty. His second stop had been her aunt and uncle’s house. He didn’t expect to find her there, but had hoped her brother might have an idea of where she was. Her brother had called his uncle from his little road trip with Sue, as it turned out. They were heading east, was all Sue had told Bryce and all Bryce had told his uncle. James got that much out of the old man before he’d breathed his last. James got more from his contact at the phone company—the address of the pay phone Bryce had used to make the call. From that little town he’d moved slowly east through more little towns until he’d heard the news of a grisly suicide on a beach.

  It was Sue’s work, he knew it. Because it was a technique she’d learned from him. One of those damn pillow talk moments he now regretted. She’d been here. Trouble was, he couldn’t find her or her brother. So here he sat, trying to glean information the old-fashioned way. Spying on the men in blue lifting a mug at the end of a long day.

  Behind him sat a table of Wight’s Landing’s finest, fresh off shift. Apparently the town’s police force was on the small side, so when one deputy got pulled away from patrol, another had to cover him. Such was the dilemma of Deputy Billy, who was complaining that he had to give up his day off to cover some guy named Huxley because the sheriff was going to meet some detective from West Virginia at the jail up in Ocean City. And it apparently had to do with that corpse in the shed. Which had everything to do with Sue.

  James would follow the sheriff, find out who in the jail had so piqued their interest. As if he couldn’t guess. It explained why Sue’s trail had so abruptly stopped here at Wight’s Landing. What it didn’t explain was why? Why this place? What was the connection between the old woman she’d killed in Florida and this little beach front town? He’d find out. Then he’d get Sue.

  Chapter Eleven

  Chicago, Monday, August 2, 8:45 P.M.

  Mia held up her badge for the nurse standing inside the curved station only to have the woman frown. “Mrs. Hunter has already given a statement. She’s resting now.”

  “I won’t bother her, Nurse Simmons,” she said. “I’m here to see Dana, her friend.”

  Nurse Simmons pointed to an area at the end of the hall. “That way.”

  “That way” was a play area. David Hunter and Dana sat alone, David in an adult-sized chair, his face grim. Dana sat on a kiddie chair at a plastic table wearing a drop-dead black dress and heels. She was building a tower, nervously manipulating a multicolored pile of Legos. Even if she hadn’t known about Caroline, Mia would’ve known Dana was scared. Dana could never keep her hands still when she was scared. “Nice dress, kid.”

  Dana looked up and Mia sighed. Guilt filled her friend’s brown eyes and Mia knew there was no power on earth strong enough to wipe it away. Dana soothed other people’s fears, helped other people deal with their guilt and shame. Her own just got stuffed deep down.

  “Well?” Dana asked, moving the Legos as if they were a shell game.

  “I talked to the officer who responded to the scene on my way over. No skid marks, witnesses heard no tires squealing. The make and model of the car don’t match the one Goodman owns, but he could have stolen one. How could he have found her?”

  “Caroline was at my apartment.” She plucked at her dress. “Helping me pick this out.”

  Mia looked over at Hunter. “Hot date?”

  “No.” His single word had the impact of a freight train. With refrigerated cars.

  Dana pressed her fingertips to her temple. “I was with Ethan Buchanan.”

  Realization dawned. “The backgro
und check Caroline had me run yesterday.”

  “We had a date tonight.” Dana had separated a pile of red blocks and was building a new tower, her fingers twitchy. “I took Evie by my place after the funeral yesterday. If Goodman followed us, he knows where I live. If he was watching tonight, he saw Caroline and me leave in her car. She dropped me at the El station.”

  “Well, that connects the dots at least.” Mia sat down in one of the kiddie chairs and put her hands over Dana’s when she started on a blue tower. “Stop. You’re making me nuts.”

  Dana’s hands stilled and her shoulders shook in a long shudder. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. We’ll find him, Dana. Until then, you’re just going to have to be careful.”

  “Well, that’s constructive,” Hunter said acidly and Mia shot him a cool look.

  “We’ve put out an APB on him. My partner and I will check the list of his haunts again.”

  “It’s been four days.” Hunter lurched to his feet. “Why haven’t you found him?”

  “David,” Dana said wearily. “They’re doing the best they can.”

  Hunter turned, showing them a very muscular, tense back. “Well, it’s not good enough.”

  Mia sighed. “You’re right. It’s not. But it’s all we can do, Mr. Hunter. Unless you have another suggestion.” Hunter’s shoulders sagged and he turned, apology in his gray eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Detective. I was out of line. Can you at least tell her to shut down that damn shelter? Or tell her to stop going to the damn bus station in the middle of the night?”

  She met his eyes. Saw what Dana had obviously never seen and wondered how long Hunter had been in love with her. She felt sorry for any man who loved a woman tied to her work by chains stronger than mere humanity. Guilt-ridden social workers and cops. What a pair she and Dupinsky made. “I could. She wouldn’t listen to me any more than she listens to you.”

  He must have detected something in her tone, a compassion he didn’t want, because he turned away with a jerk. “None of this would have happened if she hadn’t had that damn shelter. Caroline would be fine and there wouldn’t be some maniac after them.”