Out of Time

by Shirlee McCoy

  “Want me to come to the meeting with you?”

  “That’s not necessary. Levi will be there if I need backup.” Levi. She said the name as if they were good friends rather than business associates. If Chad noticed he didn’t comment.

  “All right. You’ll let me know how it goes, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good. Now, go on home. You’ve been here long enough.”

  “I don’t mind staying.”

  “I know you don’t, but it’s not necessary.”

  “All right. I’ll check in with Ranger McDonall, and then I’ll be on my way. See you tomorrow.” She shoved the radio back into its place on her belt. She wanted to go home. She did. What she didn’t want to do was walk out of the compound, navigate the half mile to the parking lot where she’d left her Mustang. San Antonio was safe enough, and the parking lot where she’d left her car was well lit, but she felt like a walking bull’s-eye at night, a victim waiting to be preyed upon.

  She frowned, hurrying into the chapel and grabbing her purse from a locked file cabinet in the office.

  A victim?

  No. She was a survivor, and she wouldn’t let what she’d lived through change that. She would walk out of the Alamo, she would walk to her car, and she’d do it with ease. Just as she had before Aaron entered her life.

  She shoved the folder with the security details back in her desk and opened the office door, ready to find Levi, say good-night and be on her way. Chad was right. She’d been there plenty long enough, and the thick silence and hushed stillness of the place was eating at her, making her imagine things that weren’t there.

  She stepped out of the office and straight into a warm, hard chest.

  “Seems like we keep running into each other.” Levi cupped her arms, the heat of his palms seeping through her jacket and racing along her nerves.

  Her cheeks heated, but she didn’t jump back, didn’t try to move away. That would say too much about her state of mind, too much about how hard she had to try to keep from falling apart. “I was just coming to look for you.”

  “Yeah?” He slid his hands down her arms, his fingers lingering on her elbows for a moment before he let go and stepped back. Looked down into her face.

  “Chad is sending me home. I wanted to say good-night and finalize our plans for tomorrow. Did you find anything out there?”

  “Not even a jackrabbit jumping through the bushes.”

  “I guess finding a guy sitting on a bench holding a stolen key would have made things too easy.”

  “I wouldn’t mind a little bit of easy right about now.”

  “It’s been a hard couple of months for the Texas Rangers,” she said, more to keep the conversation away from her past and her problems than anything else.

  “That’s putting it lightly.”

  “I really am sorry about what happened to Captain Pike. I know your entire team must be desperate to find his killer.”

  “Desperate is also putting it lightly.” He offered a brief smile as he opened the chapel door and ushered her out of the compound. The air was crisp and cold, the night alive with the sounds of San Antonio. Cars. People. Life going on as it always did on Friday night. She needed to go on, too. She knew it. Knew she needed to move away from the past, move into the future, but she felt cemented to that night, cemented to Aaron’s grasping hands and fetid breath.

  Cemented to fear, unease, panic.

  “You have a witness, right?” She’d heard that on the news recently, had been following the story with interest just like most people in San Antonio. Violent crime wasn’t common there, and a Texas Ranger being murdered in his home had left the community uneasy.

  “He’s been in the hospital since the night of the attack. He’s still too weak to talk, but we’re hopeful he’ll be able to identify a suspect soon.”

  “So, in all these months, you’ve gotten nothing out of him?”

  “I wouldn’t say that. He’s been gesturing to a picture of the Alamo that’s on the wall of his hospital room. We believe he’s trying to warn us about a planned attack on the compound. The timing makes sense. The Alamo Planning Committee commissioned several high-ranking politicians to speak, and it would be the perfect time for the Lions of Texas to make a move.”

  “A move toward what?”

  “Political footing, maybe.” He shrugged, and Susannah could almost feel his frustration, could feel the tension that rolled off him.

  “You’ll find your answers, Levi.” She touched his arm just as she would have fourteen years ago, felt the same instant connection, the same certainty of herself and her place in the world that she’d felt when she’d been too young to realize that the childish love she’d had for Levi couldn’t last.

  That surprised her, and she let her hand drop away, rubbing her fingers against her jacket, trying to wipe away his warmth and her response to it.

  “I have no doubt about that, Susie. What I’m worried about is finding answers before the opening ceremony.”

  “We have over a week. That’s a good amount of time.”

  “It’s nothing compared to the months we’ve already spent searching for answers, but numbering our days isn’t going to help secure the Alamo. Do you have security cameras at the compound?”

  “Yes. I’m sure Chad will take a look at the tapes tonight. We’re going to meet at six in the morning to discuss what happened.”

  “Just you and Chad?”

  “The entire park Ranger team.”

  “Good. I’d like to meet your people, and I’d like to take a look at the security footage. Someone opened that gate, and, if we’re lucky, the tapes will show us who.”

  “I’ve never been real keen on luck,” Susannah said, stopping at the head of the alley that led to the parking lot and her Mustang.

  She needed to say goodbye.

  Let Levi go on his way.

  But the dark alley seemed to pulse with life, the shadows reeked of danger.

  She hated this part of her day. The shifting from busyness to quiet left her with too much time to think and too many memories waiting to drag her down into terror.

  “Just a turn of phrase, Susie. God provides the answers, He orchestrates the timing. I just wish He’d move a little more quickly on this.”

  “That’s the most difficult thing about faith. Holding on to it even when things don’t work out how we want or when we want. Waiting for answers to prayer? It’s killer.”

  “What answers are you waiting for?”

  “Healing. Peace,” she answered honestly.

  “They’ll come.” His knuckles skimmed down her cheek, the touch featherlight and barely there, but she felt it to the depth of her soul. That connection, that knowing. Her body responding to memories of better times and happier days.

  “I need to go.” She forced herself to move away.

  “Where are you parked?”

  “Just on the other side of the alley.”

  “I’ll walk you to your car.” He didn’t give her a chance to protest, just took her arm and started walking.

  Darkness pressed in as they moved deeper into the alley, and she shivered, her heart beating double-time. Could he feel her pounding pulse? Did he sense her terror?

  Susannah tried to still her frantic breathing, hold her panic in, but it bubbled out in tremors that shook her body.

  “It’s okay.” His words were as gentle as his touch had been, his voice washing over her and stealing away some of her fear.

  “I know.”

  “Then why are you shaking?”

  “Because I hate the dark. I hate what could be hiding in it.”

  “Nothing is here that we can’t deal with together.”

  “You’re wrong, Levi. What’s inside of me? The fear I feel every day? That’s something I have to deal with alone.”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Do you think that because you’ve walked back into my life, all my problems will be solved?” She laughed, th
e sound as dry and used up as she felt.

  “What I think is that two people together can do a whole lot more than one person alone.”

  “Then maybe we should concentrate on coming up with a plan for dealing with Hank Zarvy. That seems like a lot better use of our time than worrying about how to change what I feel.”

  “Worrying about you could never be a waste of my time.”

  “Levi, it’s been fourteen years, and we’ve barely thought of each other in that time. I don’t think you need to worry about me.”

  “Who said I’ve barely thought about you?”

  “You didn’t try to contact me. I didn’t try to contact you. Once you left for college, we both went on with our lives. But, like I said, we have more important things to do than chat about the past or about my issues.”

  Issues?

  That made it sound like she had a penchant for dating the wrong guy or a spending problem or maybe even a tiny problem with alcohol.

  Issues were little things.

  Aaron was huge. What he’d done, what he’d stolen from her, had carved an empty spot in her soul, left her open and wounded and bleeding.

  And desperate for the kind of healing she wasn’t sure she’d ever find.

  “Like I said, ignoring the past doesn’t make it go away.”

  “We need to come up with a plan for tomorrow. I’ve dealt with Zarvy on a couple of occasions. He’s not an easy personality.”

  “Not a very subtle change of subjects, Susie.”

  “I didn’t mean for it to be.”

  “So, we’ll do things your way. Zarvy can be easygoing when he wants to be.”

  “Generally, he doesn’t want to be.”

  “True, but he wants to make sure the ceremony goes off without a hitch. I think he’ll be eager to cooperate with whatever plans we put into place. We didn’t get a chance to go over your security plans, but we can do that tomorrow. I’ll meet you at the Alamo before the meeting. Say five-thirty? We can drive over to Zarvy’s place together after Morran briefs your team.”

  “I’ll take my car and follow you.”

  “That would be a waste of gas. Besides, we can finalize any details on the way to Zarvy’s place.”

  “I—” He was right. Of course he was. Riding together was reasonable, and Susannah had been trying for months to do reasonable things. Get up. Go to work. Refuse to give in to the temptation to structure every moment of every day around her fear. “All right. That sounds good.”

  “Is this where you’re parked?” He gestured to a small parking lot in front of an old brick building.

  “Yes.” She’d parked beneath a streetlight in the middle of the lot, and she crossed the pavement quickly, Levi keeping pace beside her. Light spilled down onto the car, bathing it in a pale yellow glow, and Susannah’s blood ran cold as she caught sight of something lying on its hood. A single rose. Deep red or black. She reached out, stopping short of picking it up.

  A single rose.

  Like the ones Aaron had left on her front porch, on her desk at work, on her bed. She shuddered, taking an unconscious step back and bumping into Levi.

  “Looks like someone left you a gift.” His hands cupped her arms, holding her steady, but she barely felt his touch. Couldn’t feel anything but the terror that was taking hold.

  “Looks like it.” Her voice was as brittle and dry as old bones.

  “Are you going to take it?”

  “No.”

  “I guess there’s a reason why not.” He didn’t ask, though, and she didn’t say. Didn’t dare try to say. If she did, she might shatter into a million pieces.

  He lifted the rose and held it up to the light. It was a perfect velvety blossom, the thorns removed from the stem.

  Susannah swayed, her heart skipping one beat and then another, her breath coming so quick and fast she felt dizzy.

  “Susannah?” Levi let the rose drop to the ground, and it lay there like a snake. She could almost imagine it coming to life, slithering close and striking.

  “Take a deep breath, Susie. Now!” Levi pushed back his hat and leaned close, looking straight into her eyes, his gaze as compelling and demanding as his voice.

  She couldn’t refuse him, and she drew in a deep breath and then another, oxygen flooding her brain.

  Just a rose.

  That was all it was.

  No need to panic. No need to get upset.

  “I’m okay. I’m fine,” she said more to herself than to Levi.

  “You don’t look fine.”

  “I just…don’t like roses.” She opened the car door, slid into the front seat, her muscles trembling as the panic eased.

  “Maybe I should get my car and follow you home.”

  “It’s a seven-mile drive to my place. I’ll be fine.” She shoved the key in the ignition, forcing herself to meet Levi’s eyes, to smile past the sick churning fear in her stomach.

  “I see a lot more than dislike in your face. What’s really going on?”

  She’d known he would ask, but she didn’t want to answer. Didn’t want to tell him more of her secrets. Didn’t want to see the pity in his eyes again.

  “I already told you.”

  “Susannah—”

  “We both have to be up before dawn. Let’s call it a day and say good-night. Here’s my business card. If something comes up, and you can’t make it to the meeting tomorrow, just give me a call.”

  His jaw tightened, but he took the card. “Nothing will come up. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “See you then.” She offered another smile, this one less shaky than the last, and shut the door.

  Levi was still standing under the streetlight as she pulled out of the parking lot, his hat tilted back, his arms crossed over his chest.

  The rose lay on the ground beside him, a dark line on the pavement.

  A rose without a thorn.

  She shivered, turning her gaze away.

  She hated roses.

  Hated them.

  But that didn’t mean the rose was a harbinger of danger. Anyone could have left it there. A friend. A coworker. Someone who’d wanted to cheer her up. Maybe it hadn’t even been meant for her. Maybe some hapless suitor had left it on the wrong car.

  Please, God, let that be the case.

  Because Susannah didn’t want to go back to those months of terror, those endless weeks spent feeling as if every move she made, every word she said was being watched. She didn’t want to go back to the nightmare she’d lived.

  She turned on the radio, cruising the stations until she found something upbeat and light. Anything to fill the silence and refocus her thoughts. Tomorrow would be another long day, and she needed to be ready for it.

  Prayed she’d be ready for it.

  She could not mess up this assignment. Could not let fear get the best of her.

  The rose had been nothing.

  The unlocked gate had been nothing.

  Just flukes.

  She had to believe that or she might climb into bed, pull the covers over her head and stay there.

  FOUR

  The alarm went off at four-thirty, and Susannah fumbled to turn it off. She needed to drag herself out of bed, get showered and dressed and ready for work, but all she really wanted to do was stay exactly where she was, locked in her bedroom, locked in her house, safe from the world.

  She frowned, forcing herself up and out of the bedroom. There were days when she thought it would be too easy to give in and watch from the window as the world passed by. Plenty of days, but she knew what a slippery slope that would be. One day at home. Then another. Before she knew it, she’d never leave.

  She showered quickly, trying not to look too closely at the scar that bisected her abdomen. It had faded to pale lavender, but it was still a stark reminder of how close she’d come to dying. There were other scars. A small one on her rib cage. A deep one on her palm. A dark purple crescent below the hollow of her throat.

  She buttoned her un
iform to the neck, hiding the darkest scar. She wasn’t ashamed of it, but she’d been asked about it too many times, and she was tired of the shock and pity she saw in people’s eyes when she answered. It would be even worse to see that shock and pity in Levi’s eyes.

  Not that he didn’t already know what she’d been through.

  She’d seen recognition in his eyes when she’d told him about Aaron’s death. No doubt, he’d remembered the news story and knew why Aaron had been running from the police.

  He hadn’t asked for details.

  At least there was that.

  She pulled her hair into a ponytail, leaning close to the mirror and touching the dark shadows beneath her eyes. She looked as tired as she felt, her freckles contrasting too sharply with her pale skin. She brushed on some blush, dabbed gloss on dry lips and shoved her Stetson over her hair. Enough staring in the mirror. She had a meeting to attend, breakfast to get through, another day to navigate.

  And Levi back in her life after fourteen years.

  She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

  She stepped outside, inhaling cold, clean air, trying to clear her mind, ready herself for the day. God had a plan. She knew it, had clung to that knowledge even during the most difficult times after the attack.

  He had a plan.

  He’d see it through.

  That was good enough. It had to be.

  She’d always loved early morning, loved the silence before dawn. What she didn’t like was the darkness that hovered at the edges of her well-lit porch, the shadows that swayed and swooped across the yard.

  All she had to do was step off the porch, walk a few feet to her car and drive to the Alamo. Such an easy thing. Something that millions of people did every morning. Something that Susannah had once done without thought. Those days were gone, though, and she listened to the quiet, searching the darkness for signs that someone was waiting to pounce.

  She hurried to the Mustang, opening the door and sliding in, her heart beating too fast, adrenaline coursing through her. Her hand shook as she shoved the key in the ignition and started the engine.

  Car headlights appeared on the street behind her, and she waited impatiently for the vehicle to pass. The sooner she got on the road and started her day, the better she’d feel. Keeping her mind busy and her thoughts focused was the only way to keep the fear at bay.