Johnson sputtered, turning the color of a ripe plum. But he only watched as the reporter turned and headed into the room where records were kept.
Katie listened in silence as Taylor told her about his confrontation with the police. She had taken a bath and changed into an ankle-length peach skirt and white Victorian blouse. The orange belt emphasized her narrow waist. She tried to behave calmly, her fingers knotted in her lap, as she listened to Taylor’s instructions.
“I’ll take you downstairs now, Katie.” He handed her a list of addresses gleaned from the police files. “I’m going to call you once an hour to see how you’re doing. If you don’t answer that phone, I’ll be on my way back to the bookstore in an instant. If you see anyone who looks even remotely suspicious, call the police. Before I left there, Johnson promised to send a patrol car out if you called.” He forced a smile, noting how pale she had become. “I’ll be back at noon, and we’ll have lunch together.”
Katie nodded jerkily. “Do you really think all these elaborate precautions are necessary, Taylor? I mean, this guy has been calling for weeks and he’s done nothing.”
Taylor gripped her elbow, guiding Katie to her feet. She looked beautiful this morning, and Taylor wanted to tell her so. Frustration ate at him; there was so much he wanted to say to her and so little time. “We don’t know if he is or isn’t, Katie. I’m not taking a chance that he isn’t serious.” His voice trembled slightly as he led her to the door and opened it. “I care for you too much to let anything happen to you. You’re the first decent thing to happen to me in a decade, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to risk your being hurt by this jerk. Bear with me. I’ve got the names of five men who are known to have made telephone threats in the past. Four were recently released from mental hospitals. The fifth is a convicted arsonist, out on parole. Maybe I can turn up something with one of them. They all live in Rio Conchos.”
She gripped his hand. “Be careful.”
Taylor smiled. Leaning down, he placed a tender kiss on Katie’s ripe lips. “I have you to come home to. I’ll be very careful.”
Maud eyed Katie. “Girl, if you don’t settle down, you’re going to wear yourself out,” she warned gruffly. All morning, Katie had been arranging books in alphabetical order by subject as Taylor had suggested she do well over a week ago. Today, Katie welcomed busy work.
She wiped the dust off her fingers with a towel and rose from her knees.
The store was taking on a slicker look, a look that bespoke organization. That was Taylor’s influence, Katie acknowledged with a small smile. She went to the teakettle and placed it on the hot plate.
“I need some chamomile tea to settle my nerves,” she told Maud.
“Make it two. My nerves are shot, too.”
Katie glanced up in surprise because Maud seemed her normal, unflappable self. The older woman sat at the desk sorting order forms from a dozen or so different publishers; she seemed surrounded by a fortress of paper.
“What’s your feeling about this telephone threat, Maud? You’re always a good one for gut instinct.”
“Humph! You ask me, this is serious. I’m glad Taylor is doing something, even if the lazy, good-for-nothing police department ain’t!”
Katie smiled gently, setting out two china cups and saucers. It was the first time Maud had called Taylor by his first name. Clearly Maud was softening in her views. When the kettle began to whistle, Katie poured the boiling water into the cups, then added the tea bags. She placed Maud’s cup on the desk and leaned against it.
“I really care for him, Maud,” she confided.
“Humph! That’s been obvious for quite a while.”
Katie’s eyes sparkled. “Can’t fool you, can I?”
“You weren’t trying.” Maud laughed and sipped at her tea contently. “At first, I didn’t like Taylor Grant. He was out for himself, a real selfish type. Later, he changed.” Maud looked around the bookstore. “When he started helping you get this place organized, I decided to sit back and watch—listen. He didn’t try to tell you how to run your place, Katie. He showed you different methods and left the decisions up to you. He’s not as pushy and domineering as I first thought.”
The warmth of the teacup felt good to her cool fingers, and Katie blew gently on the tea. “He’s special to me, Maud.”
“I know, lamb.” Maud smiled up at her. “And it’s obvious he feels the same way about you. I caught him looking at you plenty of times. He always had the most wistful look on his face…That hard face of his melted, Katie. You’re good for him. He’s good for you. Each of you has changed under the influence of the other.”
“Taylor has mellowed.”
“You could tell he was hurting bad by the way he behaved,” Maud pointed out. “Being around you has changed him. He’s more himself now, I’d venture. Not so hard. Not carrying that chip around on his shoulder anymore.” The old woman chuckled. “He loves you, Katie girl.”
Heat rushed to Katie’s cheeks and she avoided Maud’s twinkling brown eyes. “I’m not sure….”
“Well, I am!” Maud rubbed her hands together. “Ain’t been around all this time not to be able to know love when I see it. Yes, I can hear those wedding bells ringing already.”
Katie sat at her desk in the bookstore, preparing to lock up in half an hour. She wanted to close before it got very dark outside. She frowned and went to the door. There to the west, was a huge, roiling mass of bruised clouds. Her eyes widened with happiness: a thunderstorm! During the five years she had lived in Rio Conchos, she had seen only three of them. They were rare in this area, she discovered, and she missed them acutely. She watched as the sky dimmed, the clouds advancing on the town like an army. She was glad she had sent Maud home at six, when Taylor left to track down the last of the five suspects.
Some of her fear had abated during the day. She had received no further threatening calls. Normally she got several each day. Had Taylor scared one of those five suspects so that the culprit stopped frightening her? She hoped so as she began her nightly accounting of the day’s business.
But her mind refused to remain on the figures. Instead, her gaze moved to a copy of the Messenger, a large, weekly paper. Taylor had brought it with him when they had shared a quick evening meal upstairs. His article and photos had been picked up by several syndicates and now were on the wires to other newspapers.
She heard the first warning rumble of thunder, far in the distance. The sky had turned inky in the dusk, and Katie saw streetlights going on down the block and people running for shelter. The storm would be brief, but Katie would enjoy the lightning display—she always did. And soon the engorged clouds would send their deluge earthward….
By eight o’clock the storm had passed. Sidewalks and road gleamed wetly in its aftermath. Katie got up and locked the door, turned the sign to Closed and shut off the window display lights. The phone rang.
“Unicorn Bookshop.”
“Is this the chief unicorn?”
Katie smiled and perched a hip on the desk, cradling the phone in her hand. “It is.”
“Then I need you,” Taylor said.
A shiver of desire coursed through her as his voice dropped to an intimate murmur. “You do?”
“Sure do.”
“You must be hungry again.”
“For you, princess. Only for you. Listen, I’m done for the evening.”
“Did you find the fifth guy?”
“Yeah. Your typical sleazeball.”
Katie shivered, wondering how Taylor could deal with such people. “What do you think?”
“None of these guys are stellar human beings,” he answered dryly. “Any one of them could be your caller.”
“Or maybe none.”
“Right. Look, I’ll be there in twenty minutes. How about if I treat my favorite lady unicorn to a hot fudge sundae at the Carousel Ice Cream Shoppe?”
Katie brightened. Taylor knew about her fondness for ice cream—the one non-health food she allow
ed herself—and she desperately wanted to put this whole sordid affair behind her, if only for a little while. “I’d love it!”
Taylor laughed. “There’s no secret to pleasing you, is there?”
She sobered, cradling the phone in both hands. “You please me, Taylor. You make me happy.”
“I know…I didn’t know dreams could come true, Katie. You’re my dream, you know that.”
“Hurry,” she whispered, “I miss you so. I’ll meet you upstairs. I’m closing the store now.”
“Twenty minutes,” Taylor promised, “and I’ll see you at the apartment.”
She had no more than hung up the phone when the lights suddenly went out, leaving her in total darkness.
“Oh,” she muttered, inching her way around the desk, “that darned storm.” California didn’t get many electrical storms. Katie speculated that an errant bolt of lightning had found its way to a transformer east of Rio Conchos, knocking out the electricity momentarily. Where was the flashlight? She knelt behind the desk, groping through each drawer. Where had she put it? Why hadn’t she listened to Taylor? He had said to keep the flashlight in a handy place, or near the fuse box….
“Candles…that’s it!” If she couldn’t find a flashlight, she did know the candles were in the back classroom where people brought their pets to be healed. Katie got up, hands outstretched. With Taylor’s help, they had completely rearranged the room, and she was still unfamiliar with the new layout. Twice she bumped into desks, bruising her hip. Katie rubbed the tender area, her attention swinging to the front door. She turned around. Through the plate windows in the door, she saw the dark shape of a man. Her heart picked up in cadence, and one hand moved to her throat. It couldn’t be Taylor—barely three minutes had elapsed since his phone call.
Terror rooted Katie to the spot. She watched the man jerk savagely at the door. The glass shook in its frame as he continued his powerful assault. Katie’s eyes widened as she saw him back away and move to one of the display windows. Ice formed in her veins as she saw him light a rag that was stuffed into the mouth of the bottle in his hand. It was the caller! Oh, Lord, she had to escape! The back door was locked, and the key was in the desk. There was no way out except through the front door where her assailant stood. Panic clawed through Katie, and she screamed as the window erupted into jagged shards of glass. The Molotov cocktail sailed through….
The bottle landed just inside the window, fire erupting in sheets as the gasoline spewed outward. Near hysteria, Katie ran back to the desk. There was sufficient light from the flames to illuminate her way. She tore a fingernail off, trying to open the middle drawer. The keys. The keys! A second scream caught in her throat as another Molotov cocktail came hurling through the window. Katie ducked, gagging and choking on the smoke as the fire spread quickly to the wall of books. Another explosion occurred behind her. Katie whirled around. She was now caught between two walls of flame!
Clenching the keys, Katie ran down the narrow aisle between the flames. Just as she made it to the rear classroom she tripped, striking her head on the edge of the desk. The keys slipped from her numbed fingers, and she sank to the carpet, unconscious. The fire continued its licking path across the carpet toward her….
Taylor’s eyes widened as he pulled around the corner. A dull orange glow rose eerily against the darkness. Terror sheared through him as he slammed down the accelerator. The vehicle lurched forward. Katie! The whole building was on fire! Taylor saw fire engines streaking toward him. Their sirens wailed mournfully, their red-and-white lights stark against the wet pavement. The Toyota squealed to a skidding stop and Taylor leaped out, running hard down the sidewalk. People had started to gather, openmouthed and stunned. The sirens grew closer and louder. Taylor tore off his jacket, holding it over his nose and mouth as he took the wooden stairs to Katie’s apartment two at a time. Anguish stabbed through him. He’d seen too many fires, too many arson-related tragedies. Smoke could kill. Taylor coughed violently in the thick, grayish smoke at the top of the stairs. Katie was inside! She could already be dead. Smoke and heat always rose during a fire. Had the fire eaten through the floor of her apartment yet? Was she still alive?
“Katie!” he thundered and put his hand on the doorknob. He jerked his seared hand back. Locked! The door was locked! Hadn’t he told her to keep it that way? Taylor sobbed for breath, digging frantically in his pocket for the key. It was dark, except for the flicker of the spreading fire below. He found the key and shoved it into the lock, his hand shaking badly.
He kicked the door open, keeping his jacket against his face. He screamed Katie’s name again and again. No answer! The rooms filled with gathering smoke, and he hugged the walls as he searched for her. Sweat trickled into his eyes, already tearing heavily from the smoke. He gasped as he finished his search. Katie wasn’t here! She’d said she would be! Had the man who threatened to kill Katie taken her from the apartment? Was she still in the bookstore?
Turning, Taylor heard the shouts of firefighters. In moments, they’d be hosing down the raging inferno. He ran out of the apartment and tore down the stairs.
Huge white hoses looked like fat spaghetti, throbbing as hundreds of gallons of water surged through them. Taylor halted at the front of the bookstore; it was completely enveloped in sheets of flame. The back door! He raced among the running firefighters as they began to spray the inferno. Keys in hand, Taylor ran to the rear of the building.
His eyes smarted and blurred as he worked the key into the stubborn lock. There! The door literally blew out of his hands, throwing him a good six feet backward. Dazed, Taylor crawled forward on hands and knees, shaking his head to clear it. He should have known better. Heat buildup could cause windows to blow out and doors to explode. He held the jacket to his face, moving in low and fast beneath the smoke now roiling thickly out of the opening where the door had once been.
The heat was intense; his skin smarted. His right hand was badly blistered. Crawling on hands and knees, unable to see anything, Taylor screamed for Katie. He hugged the baseboard, knowing that if he got too far from the wall, he’d become disoriented. He could die, unable to find his way out again through the thick, cottony smoke….
Oh, Lord, please let her be alive. I love her…. I love her.
“Katie!” he cried, choking badly as smoke clawed down his throat. The desk! He reached out and felt the hot oak panel. He crawled two more feet and suddenly hit a human leg…He fumbled, feeling the cotton of a shirt. It had to be Katie! Throwing aside the jacket, Taylor lunged forward, hooking his hands beneath her armpits. He couldn’t see her; the blackness engulfed them. He was barely conscious himself, the smoke stealing his breath, making him weak. No! Don’t take her from me. Please don’t! Taylor struggled to his knees and, in a superhuman effort, pulled Katie into his arms and dragged her outside. He was met by several firefighters who had just appeared around the corner, carrying hoses and breathing apparatus.
Taylor laid Katie on the asphalt, hands splayed near her head. “Get an ambulance! She needs oxygen,” he cried. As he looked down at Katie in the shadowy light, his heart shrank in terror; her face was a grayish-blue. She had been without oxygen for too long!
Frantically, Taylor placed his fingers on her carotid artery. She had barely any pulse! Quickly one of the firefighters knelt on her other side and clapped an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth. Taylor gripped her hand, willing his life to flow into her, willing her to live. If she had breathed in enough of that thousand-degree heat to damage her lungs, she’d die anyway. Tears squeezed from his eyes as the firefighter worked over Katie.
Lord, not now. Don’t take her away from me. I know I don’t deserve her, but please, give me a second chance. Please…
Chapter 11
Katie moved slowly through gauzy layers of consciousness, aware of a strong, warm hand holding hers. As she blinked, her vision slowly clearing and she saw Taylor and Maud standing beside her bed. Tears ran down Maud’s cheeks; her hands were clasped to her b
reast. Katie’s gaze slowly moved up to meet and hold contact with Taylor’s anxious stare.
“Am I dead?” she croaked.
Maud laughed. A grin stole its way across Taylor’s grim countenance.
“You’re alive. I don’t think I’d have made it as an angel,” Taylor told Katie and then glanced at Maud. “Maud might’ve, but not I.”
Katie managed a slight smile, still groggy after hours of unconsciousness. She squeezed Taylor’s hand weakly.
“Don’t talk anymore, Katie girl,” Maud said, wagging a finger at her. “You’ve been out almost five hours. Lord, girl, you had us worried for a while.”
Katie was barely able to raise her lashes. “What?” she whispered hoarsely.
Taylor gripped her hand more firmly. “The fire, Katie. Remember?” He watched her cloudy eyes begin to focus. The doctor had warned them that she might block the whole traumatic episode after regaining consciousness. He had assured them she would remember more as the shock wore off.
“Oh, no….”
“It’s all right, princess. You’re alive and safe. So am I. No one got hurt, thank the Lord.”
“That’s right, Katie. Look at the bright side. Taylor saved your life by dragging you out of that inferno. The fire chief says you were lucky. Breathing in all that heat and smoke for such a long time! Humph! I told him it wasn’t your time to go—you have a lot more to do down here on this old earth of ours.”
Slivers of memory, blips of the Molotov cocktail being thrown, the shadowy figure of a man, the explosion, moved like movie frames through her memory. Katie shut her eyes. A deluge of emotion welled up within her, constricting her raw throat. Tears scaled her eyelids. Automatically, she clung tighter to Taylor’s hand. “The store,” she choked.
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