by Gina Wilkins
It was only a little before 8:00 p.m., and the building was quiet. Most of her neighbors were other singles, many of whom were out on a nice summer Saturday evening. Pushing a hand through her hair, she wondered without much interest what she had in her freezer to prepare for dinner—
Someone jumped out from behind the stairwell door.
Lisa jerked out of the way at the very last moment, barely avoiding a violent collision with a tall brunette in a dark shirt and jeans.
Before Lisa could completely regain her balance, the other women rushed toward her again. Only then did Lisa see the knife in the woman’s hand.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
IT WAS PURE instinct that made Lisa leap sideways again. Perhaps, it was the basic self-defense training her father had insisted she take before moving so far away from home, but she ducked just in time. The tip of the sharp blade raked the sleeve of her favorite gray-and-white striped blouse, catching for a moment in the soft fabric and leaving a long, jagged tear behind.
For just a heartbeat, Lisa wasn’t sure if she’d been cut along with her shirt, but she didn’t take time to assess her condition. Nor did she try to be a hero and fight back. The first rule of every self-defense course was simply to get away and out of danger.
She bolted down the long hallway, yelling for help, with the knife-wielding woman pursuing her, furiously screaming words Lisa didn’t completely take in. Mostly they seemed to be threats and curses.
To her intense relief, someone was at home, after all. A door opened at the end of the hallway and the tenant stepped out curiously.
“Hey!” The burly young man in a gray Northwestern T-shirt, a neighbor Lisa had seen around but had never actually met, didn’t hesitate to come to her aid when he saw what was happening.
“Call the cops!” he shouted to someone still inside his apartment, and then threw himself at Lisa’s attacker.
The woman with the knife was young, but sturdily built. Taller than Lisa, and perhaps twenty pounds heavier. Still, she was no match for this athletic young man, who dove beneath the flailing knife blade and took her down in a classic football tackle.
Now that reinforcements had arrived, Lisa turned to help, kicking the knife away from the cursing, struggling woman’s hand before she could do any damage to Lisa’s rescuer. She made no effort to temper the kick; if she broke a few of the woman’s fingers, she didn’t really care.
Another woman approached them then, looking apprehensively from Lisa to the couple struggling on the carpeted hallway floor. The young man sat on top of the bucking brunette, holding her arms splayed beside her head, his face red from the effort. “Did you call the police?” he asked breathlessly.
The newcomer, a petite, attractive Asian with a look of horror on her youthful face, nodded. “They’re on their way.”
The brunette erupted in a whole new string of curses, doing her best to get away from the man and go after Lisa again. “If you don’t stay still, I swear I’m going to knock your head off,” he finally shouted at her in exasperation, his strong Southern accent denoting him as a non-native. And obviously someone who would gladly follow through on the threat if given any further provocation.
The woman finally stopped struggling, though she continued to glare at Lisa with a look that contained so much hatred that Lisa shuddered. She recognized her attacker now.
“You’re Jesse Norris’s girlfriend,” she said, staring down at the rage-twisted face. “I saw you in court.”
“You took him away from me,” the woman shrieked, her red-rimmed eyes leaking furious tears. “You made the jury believe all your lies and they sent him away!”
“They weren’t lies and you know that.” Lisa looked at the young couple who had come to her aid, figuring they deserved an explanation. “I’m a criminal prosecutor. Her boyfriend is a thug who deserves to stay behind bars for a very long time.”
Nodding in comprehension, the young couple both looked at the attacker again, their expressions making it clear they were on Lisa’s side. Norris’s girlfriend spat out another curse at Lisa and then turned her head to one side, the fight draining out of her as she accepted her defeat.
THREE POLICE OFFICERS arrived moments later, two of them taking Norris’s girlfriend into custody and another remaining behind to take statements from Lisa and her neighbors.
More spectators had gathered by that time, and Lisa was resigned to seeing a report in the news before it was all over. Her neighbor—whose name, she knew now, was James Holland—seemed to revel in the attention, enjoying seeing himself in the role of hero. Because she was so grateful to him, Lisa played along, assuring anyone who asked that she would have been in grave danger if it hadn’t been for James and his girlfriend, Cai.
“I really want to give you something in appreciation,” she assured him when some of the uproar had died down. “You took a risk getting involved like that when so many people would have locked their doors and played it safe.”
“Not where I come from they don’t,” he said with a shake of his sandy head. “When our neighbors are in trouble, we help ’em out. And we don’t take payment for doing so,” he added proudly.
“Where are you from?”
“Tuscaloosa, Mississippi, ma’am. You’re not originally from Chicago, either, are you?”
She shook her head. “North Carolina.”
He grinned appealingly. “I thought so. You can’t ever really lose all that Southern accent, can you?”
“I quit trying a long time ago,” she admitted.
“Me, too. I figured it was a lost cause in my case.”
They chatted a few minutes longer, Lisa learning that he was a second-year law student with ambitions of returning home to open his own law office. Cai was also in law school. Both adamantly insisted that they had only been doing their civic duty to come to Lisa’s aid, and both refused any mention of reward for doing so.
“Are you a NASCAR fan, by any chance?” Lisa finally thought to ask James.
“Are you kidding? I’ve been following NASCAR since I was just a little bitty thing. I guess you are, too, being from North Carolina and all?”
She smiled. “It’s a little more than that. My father is Woody Woodrow. Have you heard of him?”
He looked thunderstruck. “Your dad owns Woodrow Racing? Man, that’s my favorite team of all time. Jake Hinson, Ronnie Short, Mike Overstreet and that new kid, uh—”
“Scott Rivers.”
“Yeah, Rivers. Gonna be a driver to reckon with when he gets a little more experience under his belt.”
“I think so, too. So will you at least let me send you and Cai to a race? My treat. They’ll be back in Michigan next weekend, which isn’t so far to travel, and I’m sure my father would be able to arrange tickets and garage passes and accommodations for you, if you’re interested. Or if you can’t go next weekend, maybe some other race?”
James looked dazed. “Garage passes? For the Michigan race? Oh, man.”
She smiled. “Does that mean you are interested?”
“Are you kidding? I’d just about give my left—er, arm for that. You’re sure it wouldn’t be too much trouble for you?”
Shaking her head, she assured him, “Once my father finds out what you did for me, he’ll want to name a holiday after you. I’ll set everything up and get back to you soon, okay?”
She had no doubt that her father would go out of his way to make the arrangements after she told him that James had saved her from serious injury, at the least. And she would have to tell him, she thought as she locked the door to her apartment a short while later. She intended to call him immediately, before someone else heard about the incident and said something to him about it. There was already a message on her answering machine from a Tribune reporter, wanting details about the attack.
Drawing a deep breath to steady herself, she sat on her couch and dialed her parents’ number. “Virginia? Hi, it’s me. Is my father available?…Daddy, there’s something I need to tell y
ou. And don’t overreact, okay? Because I’m fine, really.”
AFTER A VERY RESTLESS NIGHT, Lisa was still sleeping when her telephone rang at 9:00 a.m. on Sunday. She answered groggily, thinking it was probably someone from her office. Her phone had rung off the hook until well after midnight, as word had spread among her friends and associates about what had happened to her.
“H’lo?”
“Why the hell didn’t you call me?”
She blinked and sat upright in the bed. “Wade?”
“You didn’t think I would want to know that someone tried to kill you after we spoke last night? I had to find out from your father this morning?”
“I didn’t want to upset you. I knew you needed to concentrate on the race today. Darn it, I told Daddy not to tell you until after the race.”
“Would you forget the race?” he asked, his voice rising. “Do you really think that matters when you’ve been attacked? Are you all right?”
He continued to prove that he could surprise her. “I’m fine,” she said quietly, subdued by his tone. He had definitely been shaken by hearing this news—more so than she would have expected.
She was beginning to believe that Wade really did care very deeply about her. And that he had his own way of expressing his feelings that spoke as clearly as romantic speeches from some other men.
She gave him a quick summary of the incident, downplaying how close the woman had come to putting the knife into her, telling him about the heroism of her idealistic young neighbor.
“Daddy’s making arrangements to give him the VIP treatment at the track next weekend,” she added. “You’ll probably have a chance to meet him.”
“I’d like to meet him,” Wade agreed. “He and his girlfriend are welcome to watch the race from the pit, if they want. Heck, after what he did for you, I’d almost let him call the race.”
“Speaking of which,” she added pointedly, “aren’t there things you should be doing there? The pre-race stuff is probably already underway, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” She hadn’t expected to hear the reluctance in his voice. After a brief hesitation, he added, “You know I would come there today if I could. But I can’t, Lees. There are too many people depending on me here.”
Just the fact that he’d felt the need to explain meant a great deal to her. “I wouldn’t expect you to neglect your responsibilities there. And as I assured my parents last night, I don’t need anyone to come here and hold my hand. I’m fine. Both Norris and his crazy girlfriend are behind bars, and there’s no reason for me to be afraid. The apartment management is already looking into increasing security to prevent future problems like this, which I heartily endorse, but I feel completely safe now.”
“You were incredibly lucky to survive a knife attack without an injury.”
“Yes, I was,” she agreed heartily. “I didn’t try to fight her. I just ran, yelling for help. I’m so grateful that James was around to hear me.”
“Sometimes running is the best way to protect yourself.”
She bit her lip and then murmured, “Yeah. Sometimes.”
She heard him say something to someone else and heard other voices calling his name in the background. “You should get back to work,” she told him. “Don’t let the team down because of me.”
“You’re sure you’re all right?”
“I’m sure. Go call your race, Wade. Get Jake up to the front, okay? I’ll be watching on TV.”
“I’ll give you a wave. But I’m still ticked off that you didn’t call last night, by the way.”
“You can yell at me again later. When you aren’t so busy.”
“Count on it. I’ve got to go now.”
“All right. ’Bye, Wade.”
“’Bye, Lisa. I, uh—I love you, you know.”
He hung up before she could respond.
She didn’t realize she was crying until a tear dropped onto her lap a few moments later. Mopping at her wet cheeks with one hand, she set the telephone in its cradle, her shaking hands making the task more difficult than it should have been.
It hadn’t been the most romantic declaration in history. But it had still made her heart swell to near bursting. She knew how very hard it must have been for Wade to say.
He had told her he loved her before, back when he had asked her to marry him. But the words had been practiced then, almost perfunctory—something expected along with the presentation of a ring. She hadn’t been completely convinced then that he meant them. She was now.
She loved him, too. Maybe even more now than she had back then, when her judgment had been clouded by unrealistic longings.
Which didn’t mean, she thought, drying her eyes and sliding out of the bed, that their future together was guaranteed. As Wade had said, they needed to talk.
WADE’S PREDICTION PROVED to be correct. Jake didn’t win the race. He wasn’t even in the top ten. He struggled throughout the event, almost spinning out a couple of times.
Considering everything, Lisa supposed Jake’s sixteenth place finish was satisfactory. Since several of the other points leaders also struggled during the road race, he didn’t take a big hit in points standing, so he was still sitting pretty for the final ten races.
As the cars ran the final laps, the camera panned at one point to Wade who, seeing the lenses aimed in his direction, gave a faint smile and a wave. The announcers remarked at how unusual it was for him to do either one during a race.
“He must be in an exceptionally good mood this afternoon,” one of them commented.
“Probably thanking the fans for all the support Jake Hinson has received this season,” the other commentator suggested. “You gotta admit, it’s been a great year for the Number 82 crew.”
Even though Lisa knew that Wade was indeed grateful to all the fans, she knew exactly who Wade had acknowledged. He had promised to wave to her. And he had. Because he had wanted her to know he hadn’t forgotten about her, even while he gave his full concentration to his job, she thought, getting all misty again.
Thanks to an amazing pit stop during a very late caution, Ronnie crossed the finish line first. Sitting alone in her living room, Lisa cheered, knowing how thrilled Ronnie and Katie and Digger and all of the Woodrow Racing team would be. Ronnie’s pit crew would certainly be congratulated for their speed and efficiency during the entire race, especially that vital final stop.
The announcers were certainly making a big deal of the third victory for Woodrow Racing in as many weeks. Things couldn’t look better for her dad’s team, she thought with a smile, knowing how happy he must be right now, despite his and his wife’s health problems. This was what he had been working for so very long. And because it meant so much to him, her mom would be happy, too.
Her private celebration of the team’s good fortune was short-lived. She spent the rest of the evening thinking about Wade—and trying to decide exactly how far she was willing to go to try to make a future with him in a sport that demanded everything of its participants.
EVEN AT JUST AFTER NOON on a Monday, the sprawling Charlotte, North Carolina airport was bustling. Passing the gift shops and food court without even being tempted to linger, Lisa headed straight for the rental car counter where a car was reserved for her.
No one waited to meet her, since she hadn’t told anyone she was coming. She didn’t have to stop by baggage claim, since she had packed everything she needed in a carry-on to save time.
It wasn’t like her to act on sheer impulse, but she had certainly done so this morning when she’d called her boss on the way to the airport and told him that she was taking the remainder of her leave. He’d obviously thought that she needed time to recover from her ordeal with Norris’s girlfriend, and she hadn’t bothered to change his mind, though it made her seem a bit wimpy. She couldn’t be bothered to fret about that right now.
She needed to talk to Wade. And she couldn’t wait any longer. Besides, this was the day she was most likely to be able to get him to herself
for a few hours, the day after a race, before he was too heavily involved in preparations for the next one.
Strapped behind the wheel of the compact sedan she had rented, she turned on the radio to keep her company during the forty-minute drive to the shop, where she was sure she’d find Wade. She needed the noise to distract her from her nerves about the wisdom of this trip.
Still, she only half listened to the music and ads blaring from the speakers. She was actually thinking about turning the radio off to let her fret and stew in silence when a news flash caught her attention.
“A tragic accident on Lake Norman earlier today has left one man dead and two critically injured,” a woman’s well-modulated voice reported. “NASCAR racing star Jake Hinson was boating with a friend when their boat was struck by another craft moving at high speed. Hinson’s passenger, who has not been identified pending notification of relatives, was killed on impact. Hinson and the driver of the other boat have both been hospitalized. The hospital is not releasing details of their conditions at this time, other than to say that their injuries were serious. We’ll get back to you as soon as we have more details. In other news—”
Lisa snapped off the radio and dug frantically for her cell phone, making an effort not to wreck her car in the process. Because she was shaking so hard, she took the next exit ramp, pulling into a service station and throwing the vehicle into Park even as she speed-dialed her parents’ telephone number.
Virginia answered. “They aren’t home, Lisa,” she said as soon as Lisa identified herself. “They’ve gone to the hospital. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but—”
“All I know is that Jake was hurt in a boating accident and that someone…someone was killed,” Lisa blurted, her heart pounding with dread. “Who was with him, Virginia? It…it wasn’t Wade, was it?”
“Oh, no, honey, it wasn’t Wade. I think your daddy said it was an old friend of Jake’s from high school.”
Lisa almost choked on a flood of tears that were a mixture of relief and sadness. “How is Jake, do you know?”