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The Shadow: Someone is Watching (Rahab's Rope Series Book 1)

Page 26

by Kimberly Rae


  Steve extended his hand and she shook it. Lucias would rather she had slapped his face. Steve gave her a bag that probably contained her clothing and personal items and she walked toward the road, but she did not turn to go to her store. Why was she not doing what she was supposed to do?

  Lucias’ hands shook. He gripped hard on the binoculars. Harder. They snapped in two.

  She got into a car. An FBI car. With Steve Campbell, his partner, and that hateful Cole Fleming.

  He yelled a curse and pummeled the steering wheel with his fists. “Meagan, Meagan,” he wailed. “Why are you destroying my love for you?”

  56

  Tuesday, January 6

  12:00 p.m.

  Meagan had almost stopped shaking. The sight of her grandparents’ home, so welcoming and safe compared to prison gates and barbed wire, made her want to run inside, climb into bed and have a good long cry.

  Cole opened the door for her and he and Quinn flanked her the few steps from the car to the porch, then up to the house. Steve followed, telling someone on the phone that they had arrived and would be setting up a secure perimeter within the hour.

  “Are you sure this is necessary?” she asked Quinn, who stood at her left side, not quite as grim-faced as Cole on her right.

  Cole put a hand on her back and ushered her inside. “I don’t know about Quinn,” he said, not giving the other man time to speak, “but I’m convinced this Lucias guy is a murderer, and the fact that he murdered the last woman he was obsessed with should scare you.”

  “Are you trying to make this worse?” She yanked at the sleeves on her orange jumpsuit. At least the chain and handcuffs were off now. What she wouldn’t give to go upstairs and change into her pajamas, drink a cup of hot chocolate, and sit in complete silence for hours. After she had her good long cry. “I already about shook into pieces leaving the building. What if he’d had a long range rifle or something?”

  “That’s not his MO,” Quinn put in, checking the living room and then the kitchen in such a serious set of moves she began to feel nervous in her own home. “Clear. Claudia was murdered up close. He used his hands.”

  Cole’s hand on her back tightened and, whether consciously or not, he pulled her close to his side. She determined to at least pretend to be strong. “Well, then, I guess I should be grateful I have three men keeping him out of reach.” She wanted to be thankful they were there, protecting her, but the need for their presence did not make it feel any less like an invasion into what once felt like a safe haven. Would she ever be able to walk in the woods around the house again, or sit in the living room with the curtains open at night, without wondering if someone was watching?

  Not until Lucias Moore is behind bars. To make that happen, she had to follow their plan. Just two days, she told herself.

  “You probably want to get out of that outfit,” Cole said.

  She tried to smile. “Yeah, it’s got a jelly stain on it.” His eyes on her were kind and at that moment the thought of burying her head into his shoulder and being held was more tempting than even the silence or the good cry. But Steve and Quinn might think she wasn’t capable of carrying out the plan if she fell apart in front of them now, or even if they heard her losing it up in her room, so with wooden steps she climbed the stairs to her bedroom and changed into her most comfortable non-pj clothing. She stuffed the jumpsuit into a plastic bag.

  “Meagan?” Cole’s voice just outside the door startled her, but it shouldn’t have. She should expect to not be given much personal space for the following two days. “You about finished?”

  “Almost.” She ran a brush through what little hair she had, and checked in the mirror to see that she did, indeed, have big dark circles under her eyes. Well, maybe if she looked terrible, Lucias would find some other woman to follow around.

  The thought of him being there, inside the house, had her shaking again. Was this how Alexia felt? She talked about her pimp like he was everywhere. It was no wonder so many of the girls were terrified of testifying. Some were too afraid to escape in the first place, certain without a doubt that if they tried to leave, they would be found and punished.

  “I’m sorry, Alexia,” she whispered. “I cared, but I never really understood.”

  “Meagan?”

  Meagan reminded herself that Alexia was safe in a recovery shelter, and Cole waited for her in the hallway. She opened the door and stepped around him to get to the stairs, pretending she did not see the slight outstretch of his hands. If she found solace in his arms right then, she knew she would not be able to keep from crying. “Let’s go see what weird gadgets Steve and Quinn have set up downstairs to make my perimeter secure, whatever my perimeter is.” She glanced back at him. “And then I’m making some fudge.” Crying she would not allow, but comfort food, that was another matter.

  __________________________

  Tuesday, January 6

  2:00 p.m.

  “I can’t do this,” Brianna said, clutching the basket, wanting to drop it and run. “They need to find someone else. Don’t they have people who do this kind of thing?”

  “Yes.” Kelsey’s voice was calm, but Brianna could tell she was more nervous than she acted. She had repositioned the beading on the necklace in her hands three times. “But he has been in here before. Remember the note? He’ll get suspicious if we suddenly have a whole new set of staff. Especially if they’re as big and imposing as Cole Fleming.”

  “Don’t they have any girls in the FBI?”

  “I’m sure they do, but like I said, we need to be the people out there. We’re doing this for Meagan.”

  Brianna bit her lower lip and tried to keep her chin from quivering like a little girl’s. “But he might be a murderer,” she whispered.

  “Which is why we prayed, a lot, before agreeing to do this. God is here with us, and He’s stronger than this man.” She put her hands on Brianna’s upper arms, something Brianna had seen her do with many young girls in distress. She’d never expected to be in their camp. “This is what we do, Brianna. We put ourselves at risk to help women targeted by predators. Only this time we’re working to protect someone we already know and love.”

  “I know.” But she had chosen to intern at the store to fight evil without having to encounter it firsthand. What if he pulled out a knife, or a gun?

  “I’d better get back out there,” Kelsey said with a quick hug. “Don’t forget to keep watch, right?”

  “Right.”

  Kelsey slid the door open and returned to the main area of the store, sliding the door back so only an inch or two remained open. Brianna took her place there, basket in hand, and watched. She would have found the concept of stalking the stalker funny if her teeth weren’t chattering at the thought. “God, please help us do this right,” she whispered. “I’m so scared I’ll say the wrong thing and give it all away.” If she did, would he up and kill her? Was she more afraid for herself than for Meagan? “Help me to have the right heart for this.” She quoted some of Kelsey’s favorite ministry verses in her mind, about defending the rights of the poor and needy, and how the Lord loved justice.

  The bell rang and an elderly woman entered the store. Brianna’s heart stuttered then sped. The FBI agents had said that Meagan’s stalker would probably be dressed either as an older man in a plaid suit jacket, or as an old lady. Could this be him? The lady walked over to the side wall display of fair trade spices and chocolate bars. She chose one of the bars and moved toward the register. That was suspicious. She had not looked at anything else in the store, and Brianna did not remember seeing her there before. Most shoppers took their time.

  Brianna told her legs to move, told her arms to push aside the door. Lead weights seemed attached to the tops of her feet.

  “Is that all for you today?” Kelsey asked. She threw a look toward the door to the back room where Brianna stood.

  The lady dug change out of her purse and Kelsey glanced at the back room again, her eyes sending a message like a m
other would to a child who lagged behind. Get up here, it said. Another look. Now!

  Brianna willed her body into action. She opened the door and carried her basket to the cashier counter. “I brought—I—I brought this for your trip Thursday,” she said, knowing she sounded like a school-aged kid with stage fright. “Presents for you before you go to India.”

  “I’m not going.”

  The lady dropped her purse and muttered as she bent low to retrieve it. Kelsey went around the counter to help her and Brianna did not know if she should say her next line or not. Kelsey picked up and held the woman’s purse while the woman reached for something else on the floor that Brianna could not see. Brianna started to ask Kelsey why she wasn’t going on her planned trip, but Kelsey shot her a look and shook her head. Brianna stood and thought about murderers and criminals while the lady paid for her chocolate bar with quarters and dimes, then hobbled from the store.

  When the door shut behind her, Kelsey put a hand to her mouth to cover her laugh. “That wasn’t our guy,” she said.

  Brianna’s heart finally slowed its frantic sprint. “How do you know?”

  Kelsey’s eyes shone with laughter. “When she leaned over, her dentures fell out!”

  The bell rang again and there was no time for Brianna to run to the back room and watch from afar. Three women entered. One of them was elderly. Should they suspect her?

  Another woman came in behind them and Brianna fought the urge to retreat. She stayed as they shopped, said her part when it was time, then escaped once the only shoppers left in the store were too young to be possibilities.

  Safely in the back room again, she glanced at the clock. Only twelve minutes had passed? She still held out hope that he wouldn’t come, that he would go someplace else to get information, maybe Meagan’s house, though he would know by now she had agents staying there. He could call the airport and sweet talk some Delta receptionist into reading the passenger list to him. No, he wouldn’t do that; he didn’t know about the flight. She bit her lip again. The FBI was right. There wasn’t much else he could do other than come to the store.

  The front bell rang again and she picked up the basket she’d dropped. How many old ladies were going to visit Rahab’s Rope that afternoon? When this one neared the register, Brianna prayed for courage and stepped into the store room again.

  __________________________

  Tuesday, January 6

  2:20 p.m.

  Lucias drove for two hours, in such a rage he almost ran out of gas without noticing. Meagan was causing him problems. If Raymond were still alive, he’d tell Lucias that Meagan was making his life unhappy and he needed to move on, but Agatha wanted to give Meagan one more chance. Agatha liked Meagan.

  He filled the tank at a station, glad to have cash again thanks to his run in Atlanta. The minutes standing in the cold air cleared his mind. He knew where to go next.

  A headache was making its way from behind his eyes up across his forehead and down around his ears. He knew he would only have an hour, two at the most, before it would blind him to everything but getting a fix to make it stop. He stopped at a second gas station and told Agatha she would have to hurry. Agatha did not want to wear something different, but he explained to her that it was not safe to return home to get her regular clothes and hair. The FBI might have agents watching for him. She complained, but put on the new outfit and the new wig for his sake, once he told her he could not get Meagan away from those creeps without her help.

  Agatha wore her new outfit into Meagan’s store. The bell on the door jingled in its annoying cheerful way. Lucias counted four other customers inside. Meagan’s good friend, the woman with lots of freckles, stood behind the cash register. He meandered, looking at the earrings, then the scarves. The headache got worse and his left eyelid started to twitch. The dark-haired girl who worked at the store came in from the back room, carrying a basket. She took it to the woman at the register and he moved to a section of wall hangings, close enough to hear their conversation.

  “...it’s tradition,” the girl said. She set the basket on the counter. “Hot chocolate mix and a bagel for your breakfast on Thursday.”

  The woman pulled a small card out of the basket and read, “Have a great trip! We’re praying for you. Love, the team.” She hugged the dark-haired girl. “Thanks, Brianna, but I’m not going on this trip to India.”

  “What?”

  He moved closer, to a pile of books for sale. He picked up the one on the top of the stack and pretended to look it over.

  “Kelsey, you’ve had this trip planned for months,” the girl said. “Why would you cancel it at the last minute?”

  The woman named Kelsey shook her head. “The trip isn’t canceled. Meagan is going.”

  He dropped the book and it landed with a thud on the floor. The dark-haired girl stepped toward him. “I’m sorry,” she said. “We’re just chatting away. Do you need help with something?”

  “No, thank you, sweetie pie,” Agatha said. Don’t overdo it, he told her. “These old hands can’t keep hold of things like they used to. I’m fine, though. Don’t let me bother you.”

  The girl smiled. “Well, let us know if you need anything.” She went back to the register and Lucias set the book on top of the stack again, careful to not draw any more attention. The Brianna girl lowered her voice and said something to Kelsey. He had to come closer to the register to hear her.

  “...she is at her house, but all those FBI guys are there, too.”

  Kelsey’s focus was so intent on Brianna, she did not even see him step closer. “They won’t leave her alone,” Kelsey said. “Even though they let her out of prison today, they’re staying at her house. She called me and told me she can’t stand it. I suggested that she take my place on this trip to India. They can’t follow her out of the country.”

  “And they’re going to let her go?”

  “They can’t stop her. There isn’t any evidence to convict her anymore.”

  Brianna pulled the card from her basket. “Well, I guess I don’t need this now.” She dropped the card into the trash can next to the cashier counter. “Meagan doesn’t like bagels. I don’t think I’ll take her the hot chocolate either.” She picked up the basket. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to go over there when her place is crawling with guys carrying guns.”

  “I called and asked if we could see her off at the airport, and they said no.”

  Brianna crossed her arms. “That’s mean. We’re her best friends.”

  “I guess they have their reasons.” The Kelsey woman noticed Agatha and seemed startled. “Are you ready to check out?” she asked.

  Agatha didn’t know what to do. Lucias grabbed the nearest item and set it on the counter. Some kind of headband or something. Kelsey rang up the purchase while the dark-haired girl took her basket back into the other room. Agatha talked about silly things while Kelsey put her item in a pretty little bag with a ribbon on it.

  “Thanks for stopping by,” Kelsey said.

  “Have a nice day, sweetie.” Agatha turned and Lucias made her trip over the waste basket. It fell over. “Oh, I’m so clumsy.”

  “It’s okay,” Kelsey said. “I’ll get it.”

  “No, no.” Agatha knelt down and put the papers and torn tags back in. “I’ve got it.”

  “You have a nice day, too,” Kelsey said before Agatha left the store. Agatha was careful to wave with her empty hand, keeping hidden the hand that held a small card with well wishes for a Thursday trip.

  It was fate. Lucias smiled in triumph. Thursday was January eighth.

  Meagan’s birthday.

  57

  Tuesday, January 6

  7:00 p.m.

  Cole offered to help Meagan clean up after their supper of chicken wraps and sliced peppers. It was the only thing he could think of to create some sense of normalcy for her.

  “I used paper plates so there wouldn’t be much to clean up,” she said, shrugging and circling the
kitchen. “But maybe that was a bad idea. Now I don’t know what to do with myself.”

  “The fudge was delicious.”

  “Thanks.” She shrugged again. “I throw a few ingredients in a bowl and microwave it, then stir. It’s an easy recipe I got off Pinterest one night when Grandma couldn’t sleep.” She wiped the table and dumped the crumbs in the trash. “That reminds me. I want to order a CD from that singing group you like. What was their name?”

  “You mean the Mylon Hayes family?”

  “That’s right. I couldn’t remember. Do you think they’d get it to me overnight if I paid the extra shipping?”

  He broke off another square of fudge. “I’m sure they would. You in a hurry?”

  “Everything feels kind of urgent lately.” She avoided his gaze. “Would I be allowed to call Pops? I can’t recall the last time I’ve gone so long without talking with him. Even when I’m in India, I call every couple of days.”

  “We’ve checked your phone for bugs, and I’m sure they’ve checked his phone in the hospital. I don’t see why not.” He followed her into the living room where Steve and Quinn had found a game to watch. Though they tried to keep the equipment to a minimum, it was still glaringly obvious that the law had settled in to stay for a while. The living room looked more like a stakeout than a home.

  “You can call,” Steve said, “but don’t give any information about Thursday, and stay where we can hear you.” He muted the television and Cole could see the displeasure on Meagan’s face. She picked up her cell phone from where it sat on the coffee table, connected to tracing equipment, and was dialing numbers when it rang. She jumped, but then answered it, leaving Steve and Quinn scrambling for their headphones and the recording device.

  “It’s just Brianna,” Meagan said, frustration in her voice. She added to the phone, “No, I’m glad it’s you. My handlers thought I was dumb enough to answer a phone call from the bad guy without letting them set up first.” She tried to turn away but the cord attached to the phone yanked her back. “I have to warn you, if you stay on the phone long enough, the FBI will know exactly where you are.”

 

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