“How’s it going?” Phil Knight called.
“The usual.” Dan joined him in front of the closed gift shop. “How about you?”
“Oh, the ER’s busy tonight, but nothing we need to worry about.”
Dan enjoyed the outdoor part of his shift most, but he was glad his indoor assignment covered the part of the hospital that was mostly abandoned at night. Phil seemed to enjoy checking in with the nurses on each floor and chatting with the personnel on the graveyard shift. Dan didn’t mind going alone into the empty administrative and diagnostic areas. He made it his business to know who ought to be there in the wee hours.
“Troy called in sick again?” Phil asked.
Dan nodded. He usually didn’t work Mondays, but occasionally he covered for the regular guard. He’d be tired the next day, but it was worth it. He’d certainly been in the right place tonight.
He left Phil and continued his beat, thinking of the woman in the parking lot. She was pretty, with luxuriant brown hair. That’s what he’d seen first, when he’d spotted her running across the lot. Brown eyes to go with it. She seemed tired, and a little disillusioned. But she was young, and he could tell from her speech that she was educated. He couldn’t quite place the accent.
It was hard to categorize her on such short acquaintance, but Dan had felt something when he looked into her face. She was genuine, unpretentious. She seemed like the kind of girl a man could take home to meet the folks without any qualms. She seemed to be struggling with her job situation, but he had the feeling she wouldn’t give up until she found something that interested her. Of course, his track record with women wasn’t the best. He’d learned he couldn’t always trust his snap judgments.
He unlocked the door to Public Relations and flipped the light on. This was where she would work if she took the computer job. He wished he had gotten her name.
He sighed and turned away. If things went the way they usually did for him, she would find a better job somewhere else, and he would never see her again. No sense wondering if she was everything she seemed.
*****
Laurel attacked the list of medical support group meetings. The updates on diabetes treatment and wound care were interesting. She had been posting the website for three nights, from eight to midnight, and was settling into the job.
Each night, she found herself listening for the security guard to make his rounds. She recognized Troy Buckle’s step already and didn’t turn around as he came through the door to Public Relations.
“Howdy.”
Reluctantly, Laurel glanced up. Troy was blond and good looking, and seemed to know it. He looked about sixteen, but she had learned that he was a student at the community college. In spite of her reserve, Troy tried to make small talk every time he came through the office wing, and already Laurel knew more about him than she wanted to know.
“Hi.” She turned back to the computer screen, hoping he would take the hint and keep moving.
“So, who’s the employee of the month?” he asked, bending close to look over her shoulder.
Laurel stiffened. “Carol Marle in hematology.”
“How come the security people are never employees of the month?”
She shook her head and kept typing.
“Guess I’d better hoof it. We’re short one guy tonight.” Troy straightened but didn’t move away.
“Where’s Dan Ryan, anyway?” Laurel nearly bit her tongue. She’d wanted to ask the question ever since she’d started the job, but had managed so far to suppress it.
“Dan Ryan?”
She winced, struggling between her deep desire to know more about Dan and her strong aversion to encouraging Troy. “The guy who did this shift Monday.”
“I think he only works weekends, unless somebody’s sick. I was off Monday, so he probably filled in for me.”
“Oh.” She felt foolish for asking. If he only worked weekends, she probably would never see him.
“So, are you going to be here every night?” Troy asked.
She pretended she didn’t hear him, but he came around beside her and leaned on the desk.
“Monday through Friday,” she said without looking up. “I’m very busy, Troy.”
He straightened and took a step toward the doorway. “Well, I’ll see you.”
She said nothing, feeling only a twinge of guilt. When she went for coffee a few moments later, he was gone.
*****
The following Monday, Laurel was entering data when she heard the roundsman approaching. She groaned inwardly. Troy had become a nuisance, and over the weekend she had tried to come up with some way to discourage him from trying to make conversation while she worked.
“Hey! You signed on!”
She whirled around at the deeper, more vibrant voice. Dan Ryan smiled and strode toward her. Laurel was shocked by the excitement that whirled through her when their eyes met.
“Well, hello. I thought you only worked weekends.”
“I think the regular guy has an aversion to Mondays,” Dan said. “He misses at least two a month.”
“That would be Troy.”
“Yeah. They call me when he’s out, but I never met him.”
“You didn’t miss much.”
He laughed, and Laurel felt a blush creep over her cheeks.
“Sorry. I’m not usually that caustic, but Troy has become my bane. He loves to stop by and chatter while I’m trying to get my work done.”
“I should leave you alone.”
“No, you’re fine.”
Dan looked at her keenly. “Troy didn’t bother you, did he?”
“Bother, as in annoy? Just a little. But bother, as in harass? No.”
He nodded. “So, how’s it going with the website?”
“All right.” His steady gaze gave her a totally different feeling than the one Troy inspired. She looked away. “I’m usually gone by now, but there were a lot of pictures to upload tonight.”
“I was—” he stopped, and she looked up into his gray eyes. “So, you like doing this?” he finished lamely.
She shrugged. “It’s not bad.”
He glanced at his watch. “I need to punch the clock down the hall. I ... uh ... what’s your name?”
She hesitated, then self-consciously touched the new security badge clipped to her blouse. “Laurel Wilson.”
“Laurel. I’m Dan.”
She nodded.
“Oh, right.” He glanced down at his own badge. “Listen, if you need someone to walk out to your car with you when you finish …”
He looked shy all of a sudden, and she found his attitude attractive.
“I’d like that. I don’t think I’ll be much longer.”
“Well, I’ll come back by here in about fifteen minutes and see how you’re doing.”
“Thanks.”
She watched him walk out into the hall. The uniform suited him, even if he was only a part time rent-a-cop. His posture would fool anyone. Maybe he was a day student, like Troy, working his way through college, but she doubted that. He was several years older than Troy, and a great deal more serious. Troy seemed to major in partying. Dan’s thoughtful demeanor was restful by contrast.
She turned back to the computer, mentally scolding herself for daydreaming about a man she didn’t know. Dan was being kind to a stranger. Still, there had been something deeper in his gray eyes, an eagerness that set her heart racing. Laurel hadn’t felt such anticipation in years. It didn’t seem right somehow, and a wave of guilt washed over her. Was it possible for a twenty-eight-year-old woman to have a schoolgirl crush? Even if it were possible, the point was moot. It wasn’t as if she could start a relationship now, with her life on hold.
Then there was the name thing. With the judge’s permission, she had reverted to her maiden name. It had been impossible for her to find any type of employment in Maine using the name Laurel Hatcher. Going back to Wilson gave her a little distance from the criminal case. That and the move to Ohio seemed t
o have worked, and she was now supporting herself, although in a rather Spartan manner. But she still felt guilty and disloyal every time she gave her name.
Her fingers flew over the keyboard. In her hurry she made a mistake, and she was still redoing the page when Dan returned.
“I’m sorry,” she said, a bit flustered and regretful. “I’m just not ready. If you need to do something else, it’s all right.”
“No, I’ll come back. You shouldn’t have to go out to your car alone at 1 a.m.”
“Is it that late?”
“Afraid so.”
Laurel swallowed, fighting the intense attraction that waylaid her every time she saw him. She shouldn’t feel this way, and she wasn’t certain that she liked it. “Well, usually there’s a guard out there, but sometimes, when he’s not around, I feel a little jumpy.”
Dan smiled. “I’ll come back. What do you think? Ten minutes? Twenty?”
“I’ll try for ten.”
“I’ll be here.” He held her look for an instant, and she hoped it mattered to him, that he wasn’t just doing a conscientious job.
It surprised her how much she wanted Dan to like her. Was it just because she had been so isolated, so alone?
She was shrugging into her jacket when he returned.
“All set?” he asked.
“Yes, finally.” She turned off the lights and locked the door, and they walked together down several hallways to the lobby. They were both silent, and she wondered if he felt as nervous as she did. There was no one on the front desk. The automatic door was shut off at night, and Dan opened it for her.
“Where are you parked?”
“On the upper level.”
The parking lot had been carved from a hillside, and a long flight of concrete steps led up to where her Toyota waited, under a yellow street light.
“So, Laurel Wilson,” Dan said as they climbed the stairs, “are you from around here?” She caught the shy note again in his husky voice.
“No, I just moved here, and I’m still getting acquainted with the city.”
“The streets can be confusing until you get used to them,” he said.
“I found the library yesterday.”
“Libraries are good.”
She stopped beside the Toyota and glanced up at him, then took her key fob from her pocket. “Thanks.”
“Anytime.” He lingered, and she hesitated to open the door. She had come to Ohio determined not to form attachments, looking for a place where no one knew her and no one would ask questions. But the isolation weighed her down, and she felt the need for a friend. She wanted to be able to talk to someone again without being afraid. Was Dan that person?
“I guess I’ll see you next Monday, if Troy is sick,” she said.
He chuckled. “I’d rather not leave it to chance.”
She caught her breath but didn’t say anything.
“Can I call you?”
She looked out over the silent parking lot, trying to sort her feelings quickly. She ought not to get involved with a man. Dan was friendly without being pushy, and he seemed so decent. She wasn’t ready to tell him about her past, yet she wanted to know everything about him. What kind of friendship could they form on that basis? Better to brush him off now than to have to explain things later.
When she opened her mouth to turn him down gently, she made the mistake of looking into his hopeful gray eyes once more.
“How about I take your number instead?” She rummaged in her purse for a notepad, and he produced a pen. As he jotted his phone number on the paper, wondered if she was flirting with danger by being so receptive to the handsome stranger.
But at least the ball was in her court now, and she could decide whether or not to make contact with him again.
*****
Midday on Wednesday, Dan began filling out report forms on his clipboard while his partner, Jessica Alton, drove the squad car toward the police station. But completing reports on the calls he and Jess had responded to that afternoon didn’t keep his mind off Laurel Wilson.
The last time he’d seen Laurel, he’d read attraction in her eyes, but her slight reserve intrigued him. For a moment while they stood by her car, he was sure she would politely brush him off. When at last she’d taken his phone number, he’d sensed a little apprehension. Of course, she hadn’t called him yet. If she did, he would have to show her that she could trust him.
But did he really want that? Jumping into a relationship too quickly could lead to disaster. He should practice the same caution she did. He sighed and flipped to his notes on the domestic disturbance he and Jess had helped defuse an hour ago.
Jessica glanced over at him. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just tired.”
He’d been thinking about Laurel far too much since her car was broken into ten days ago. How much did he know about her? He didn’t want his emotions to run away with him. Been there, done that. He didn’t want to do it again. Mentally he made a list of crucial things he had to know about Laurel before he let himself care too much.
*****
Laurel drove into her parking spot in front of the apartment building. The overcast sky had an amber haze. All of the contemporary brick units looked so much alike. But that was good. Anonymity was her goal.
She climbed out of the car, pulled the strap of her purse onto her shoulder, and hefted a bag of groceries. The apartment buildings crowded so closely together she couldn’t tell where the sun was hiding.
She shivered and looked around for movement that didn’t belong in the peaceful scene. I’ve got to quit being so jumpy.
Her thoughts slid to Dan. She wanted to call him but had held off. In her worst moments, she knew it was foolish to get close to anyone now. Yet she felt a flicker of hope when she thought of him. Was it really impossible?
She stepped toward her door and froze. It was open slightly, just off the latch.
The pulse in her throat raced, and she made herself take a deep, shaky breath. After a moment she reached out with one finger and pushed the door gently, another three inches. She listened but heard nothing. Leaning to one side, she stared through the gap, but all could see nothing beyond the bare, off-white wall of the entry.
Lord, I can’t do this again.
Resolved that she must, she pushed the door wider and took one step then another into the entry. Through the doorway ahead, she glimpsed books, papers and an afghan strewn on the living room carpet. She stopped and closed her eyes for a moment. Her chest hurt. Images of the old house in Maine swam across her mind. The blood. The pistol. Bob’s still form.
Panic rose in her. She turned and ran for the door. The grocery sack fell from her hands. She leaped down the steps and ran toward her car.
Chapter 2
A man came out of the unit across the drive from Laurel’s. He stared at her as she picked herself up off the walk where she’d fallen. She hesitated only a second. He was neatly dressed, in khakis and a plaid sports shirt. His curly dark hair had a sprinkling of gray, and he was talking on a cell phone. He looked up in surprise as Laurel dashed toward him.
“Please call the police,” Laurel gasped.
“Hold on,” the man said into the receiver. He lowered the phone. “Can I help you?”
“Yes! Call the police, please. Someone’s broken into my apartment.”
“And you are?”
She gulped. “I’m in 357. Just call them. Please.”
He looked across the driveway, then back at her, appraising her as he brought the cell phone back up to his ear.
Laurel winced. He was cataloging her wild eyes, rumpled clothes, and hysterical demeanor, no doubt.
“I’ll call you back,” he told his listener, then broke the connection, pressed a button, and spoke into the phone again. “Yes, my name’s Richard Hamilton, in Sherwood Apartments. One of my neighbors has had a break-in. Could you send someone out?”
“Thank you,” Laurel said.
He nodded and stayed on the
line, giving the address. She inhaled deeply and went to stand by her car, staring at her open front door. The terror had receded now that help was on the way. Already she was sure the burglar was gone.
He picked the wrong place to ransack, she told herself. Everything of value she owned had been stripped from her long ago.
She heard footsteps behind her and whirled, her adrenaline surging. Hamilton was crossing the driveway. She wished she had calmed herself enough to rummage in her purse for her own phone and make the call herself.
“I was just on my way out,” he said. “The police will be right here. Would you like me to stay until they arrive?”
“I—” She swallowed. “I should be all right.”
“Were you just getting home?”
“Yes.”
He nodded, and his concern calmed her a little. He seemed like a decent person. It was nice to know there were people in the complex who would help a neighbor in distress. “I’m sorry this happened to you. We haven’t had much activity of this sort. Should I call the superintendent?”
She glanced back toward her building. “I don’t know yet. I haven’t been inside. The door was open, and—” She looked away. Kind neighbors would evaporate as soon as they learned her history. “Thank you. I’ll be all right.”
“I didn’t get your name.”
Laurel felt her lower lip tremble, and she bit it, hating to give out her old-new name. He was staring at her. Surely he didn’t recognize her face? How much publicity had her case received outside New England?
A patrol car turned in at the entrance to the apartment complex, and she felt light-headed with relief. “They’re here.” She managed a smile. “Thank you very much. I appreciate your help.”
He opened his mouth as though he would say more, but Laurel stepped away from him, waiting for the police car to draw up beside her sedan. Two officers got out and turned toward her.
“Laurel!”
“Dan?” She stared at him, stunned.
“We got a call for a burglary.”
She swallowed hard. “That was me.”
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