Toss Up (The Toss Trilogy)

by Craig, Susan

  For a fleeting moment a thrill ripped through her as she met his gaze. Then she blinked. Poor man. She had slept peacefully, snuggled against his warmth beneath the afghan. But sitting up all night with her couldn’t have been much fun for him. She gave him a sleepy smile. “Thank you for staying with me, but why didn’t you put me in my bed? Then you could have stretched out.”

  “I wanted to be with you in case you had nightmares. You were pretty strung out last night.”

  He was right about that. “I know.” She leaned her temple against his chest. “I hate feeling weak and afraid and helpless.”

  He lifted her chin with his fingertip and smiled. “That’s the woman I know and love.” He pushed aside the afghan and stood to add more wood to the fire.

  Sally went still inside. It was the second time he’d used the word love. Her heart rate increased. Nerves. She wanted nothing to do with love. But the way he used it—so comfortably, as if it was a given—argued that the word meant friendship to him, nothing more. Settle down, girl. Don’t overreact. She drew her knees up to her chest, shifting to sit in the corner of the couch.

  Jim plucked up the afghan and spread it over her legs, tucking the ends behind her shoulders. He leaned toward her in the dull red light, bringing his face so close she could feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke softly into her ear. “Would you like to do something about it?”

  Her heart raced. “About what?” Her mind was still stuck on his calling her love.

  “About weakness, fear, and helplessness—those feelings you hate.” He laid an arm across the back of the couch and sat close enough that her toes felt the warmth radiating from his thighs.

  “Sure, I’d like to feel differently. But how? Self-defense classes, I’ve already had.”

  Now he was grinning at her, and his voice held a challenge. “Let’s go after him.”

  “Are you nuts?” She shrank away from him. “He could be dangerous. And I’ve got Tyler to think of.”

  Jim gave her a confident look. “Truth is, love, I’m dangerous too. And you’re a basketball power-forward who knows self-defense.”

  Sally stared for a moment. This was the Jim look-alike, right? The one who’d power-kissed her two nights ago. He’d called her love again, and sat there calm and cool, claiming to be dangerous.

  Only, watching him now, she was pretty sure the claim wasn’t idle. How could he look just like the man she’d known for years, and yet be so different? Jim had always been confident, but never overtly physical. He’d been accommodating, helpful, and sensitive. The man sitting here on the couch oozed power from every pore and made her heart accelerate in a crazy way, yet last night he, too, had been completely accommodating, helpful, and sensitive—even to the point of sitting up all night with her asleep on his shoulder.

  Sally gave her head a small shake, trying to clear her confusion. “Who are you, and what have you done with Jim Donovan?”

  Jim’s ego gave a satisfied nod. About time she took a closer look. He smiled at her as he shifted on the couch so they were facing one another. Leaning forward, he took her hands in his. “I guess the middle of the night is as good a time as any for confessions.” He let his gaze roam over her face for a moment. What he was about to say to her might end things between them.

  “Sally, I was in the service before I went to vet school. I worked counter-terrorism. Most of our missions were covert.”

  She stared at him, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Black ops.” Those words made it clear she understood what he was saying. Her eyes skittered over his face as she absorbed it. “You worked black ops.” Except for the movement of her lips, she sat immobile.

  Not too bad a reaction, considering he’d just told her he’d been trained to kill, with or without a weapon, one on one, and had, in fact, excelled at it. But she still hadn’t moved.

  Don’t run on me, Sal. Please. Stay.

  He nodded, though her words hadn’t been a question. “Yes.” The fire blazed as the wood he’d added began to burn. “I was good at it, Sally.”

  “I know you were.” The light from the flames shifted across her face, making it hard to read her expression.

  He looked a question at her.

  “You’re alive.” With a small smile, she squeezed his hands tightly, not letting go, not pulling back.

  The tension in him eased, and he nodded. There would be no need for details. “When I came home, I put the warrior on the shelf. His time was over.”

  “I understand.”

  He’d hoped she would. She’d been married to a warrior for seven years.

  “I didn’t expect to ever need him again.” He was intent on his explanation, thumbs stroking up and down on the back of her hands. “But then this stalker threatened you, and the warrior came leaping down off the shelf.” His gaze dropped to their hands then lifted back to her eyes. “I hope you like him, because he’s not going to be leaving.”

  She smiled at him, complete acceptance in her eyes.

  The movement of his thumbs stilled. It meant more to him than she could possibly know. Acceptance isn’t love. Don’t rush her.

  Her head tilted. “In the end, you have to be who you really are. There will always be a place for warriors. What branch of service were you in?”

  “The Marine Corps.”

  “And you never told me…” He saw hurt on her face, and her hands began to pull away.

  Dammit, no. Stay. He held onto her more tightly. “At first, it felt like the wrong thing to talk about. Then later, it never came up.”

  She nodded, but pulled her hands away and sat a little straighter on the couch.

  His heart sank without a ripple. Why now?

  “Did you know my husband?” she asked primly.

  “No. I never had that honor. I was based in Virginia—Quantico.” It was the truth, but he wondered if it was what she’d hoped he would say.

  Her posture relaxed a bit, and her head tilted.

  He felt himself relax. Thank God she’s not going to turn it into a big deal.

  But her voice was cool. “So, what were you saying about going after the stalker creep?”

  Shit. Apparently it is a big deal. But she hasn’t run—yet—she just doesn’t want to talk about it now. He sat back and turned his head toward the fire. Inhaling deeply, he let the tangy scent of smoke and wood relax him. If she wanted to wait, he could wait.

  He turned toward her again. “I’ve been going over each incident in my mind. This is what I’ve been thinking... You understand that this stalker didn’t choose you at random, don’t you?”

  She drew the afghan up over her shoulders, as if she was chilled, and nodded.

  Jim kept his tone of voice professional. “And you’ve had this kind of thing happen before, right?”

  She nodded her head slowly. “Yeah.”

  “It’s not likely that you’ve attracted three different stalkers. So one or both of the previous times will probably connect with what’s happening now. This person knows you or at least feels that he does.

  “And the tone of the notes has changed. That means either your situation has changed, or his has. Usually fixations like this escalate over time. Maybe he’s been looking for you and just tracked you down. Or maybe he’s known where you were but couldn’t do anything about it before now.”

  Sally made a face. “Or maybe he only recently went around the bend,” she said. Scrunching forward on the couch, she leaned her chin on her knees.

  Stay with me, Sal. “Could be. And he’s deliberately made a Marine connection with ‘Semper fi.’ Which might mean he’s fixed on you because you’re Trent’s widow. That would explain the nonsense in the note about disgracing your husband.” Jim leaned forward. “You and Trent were based at Pendleton. Does anyone from the base stand out in your mind—best friends, enemies, hero worshippers, anyone who felt funny to you somehow?”

  Funny ha-ha, or funny peculiar? She almost said it out loud. Drat, she hated talking about a stal
ker like this: so clinical and cold. It made her flesh tingle with revulsion. She shuddered and stared at the dark windowpanes, thinking, then shook her head in frustration. “I can’t think of anyone who seemed odd. Besides, the guys that I knew, and their families, are still in California. And Trent had no enemies that I know of. He was a fair guy—no disciplinary gripes or anything like that.”

  “But you can give me a list of all the names you remember? I’ll see if I can find out where the men from Trent’s old unit are.”

  “Sure, but wouldn’t that be a police thing?”

  “Maybe, but they haven’t asked about it yet, and I have a few friends that might be able to help in the meantime. Where was Trent from?” He laid a warm hand on the afghan covering her feet. A tingle ran up to her knees and over her thighs, giving her a melty feeling in her belly. Even offended as she’d been by his reticence about his past service, her body still responded to the slightest touch. She made herself focus on the question he asked.

  “Trent and I both grew up here in Pennsylvania. He was from Bethlehem, and we met at Penn State. He was planning to go into the military even then.” Her thoughts turned inward and feelings shifted toward Trent as she remembered how it had been...

  The sun shone brightly as she and LaTisha Grant, the six foot three inch team center, came out of the library. One moment they were talking, the next LaTisha grabbed her by the wrist and started dragging her across the grass toward three young men. “There he is. Come on, Sally. He’s a great guy and he told me he wanted to meet you. Trust me, girl, you’ll like him.”

  Laughing, she’d gone along. LaTisha was pre-med and had high standards for men. If she said the guy was great, he’d be worth meeting.

  And oh, boy, he had been. Trent Johnston was handsome, virile, and three inches taller than she was. He looked intently into her eyes for a moment, his face expressionless. Then he smiled and it was like standing in a sunbeam on a cloudy day. Without taking his eyes off her, he spoke to his friends. “Guys, about the party tonight… Sorry… ‘I have to go and see about a girl.” His friends moved away, laughing at the Robin Williams line. Then he took her hand, and they walked off together.

  She smiled at the memory. I was his from that minute until the day he died. Longer, even… Wait a minute. Her emotions stopped flowing and held still for examination. Was?…Yeah, was. Maybe that explained her wayward reactions to Jim lately. And he was still talking. She pulled herself back to the present.

  “So the most likely possibilities are someone who knew one or both of you in California, or someone who knew you from college. Someone with a connection to the Marines—either real or imaginary. Someone new in this area, or who only recently learned you were here.”

  “What good does all this do, Jim?”

  He looked surprised by the question. “It will help us make a list of possibilities—keep us alert to the circumstances we should be watching for.”

  “I guess just analyzing things doesn’t feel very satisfying.”

  He grinned again. “Don’t look so down, love, there’s more.”

  He’d called her love again. Each time he did that, her body gave her mixed messages. Her stomach tightened, fearful of involvement and, ultimately, the pain of loss and the rest of her got hot, wanting what she’d been without for so long. Stay cool, girl, he doesn’t mean it either of those ways. “What more is there?”

  “Odds are that the stalker’s chosen a particular vantage point to watch you from. Probably a place that would give a view of both this house and the shelter. Sitting in the parking lot or on the road would be too noticeable, and there’s not a whole lot of cover around here. I’m guessing he’s either watching from the scrub pine on the ridge east of the house or from somewhere in that band of trees running along the creek to the south.”

  “And you want to go see if you’re right.” She took a deep breath and blew it out, trying to relieve her uneasiness at being left alone. She grabbed her courage with both hands. “Okay, we’ll be fine for a bit.”

  Jim smiled in approval. That took guts. “You misunderstood me. I’m not leaving you and Tyler alone. As soon as Tyler gets picked up for school, I want you to come with me to see if we can find the spot. It shouldn’t be hard. A man standing around in one place leaves plenty of signs.”

  “And then? What if he’s there?”

  Jim looked out the darkened window, as if he could see the landscape beyond. “He won’t be. If he is and sees us coming, he’ll leave. You’re a game to him. His hobby. He’s getting his jollies by tormenting you. He won’t want the fun to end yet. Besides, the odds are good he has a normal nine-to-five like everyone else and won’t even be around when we go looking.”

  Jim turned back toward Sally and saw the sick look on her face. His stomach dropped and guilt rolled through him. “Damn, Sally, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things. I should’ve known better.” He moved to take her into his arms.

  She pulled away. “No, it’s okay. I didn’t like hearing it, but it’s true, isn’t it? Some creep out there thinks my life is something he can play with.” She looked into Jim’s eyes. “Well, he’s wrong. What do we do once we know where he’s watching from?”

  Admiration for her swelled his heart. He’d seen how it tore her up each time the stalker played his game, but every time, she pulled herself back together and went on. She refused to be a victim. A surge of possessiveness enveloped him. Not your Sally, you faceless bastard. Mine.

  “We go to the police with the information. Then, essentially, they watch him back. Find out who he is, and stop him from bothering you anymore.” Jim knew he was making stopping the stalker sound much easier than it was likely to be, but his heart told him Sally needed to be able to focus on an end to the games.

  She sighed. “Will they listen, do you think? Officer Billings didn’t ask me anything about my past, or the things you just talked about.”

  “Give the man a chance, Sal. He’ll probably have plenty to ask you when we go in later for fingerprinting. And we’ll have new information for him as well. You know, the guy approached from the road to put the first note in the mailbox.”

  At her raised eyebrow, he explained. “I did a little recon night before last. There was no evidence that he came across the grass to get to the box. But it’s always possible that he walked across the meadow to deliver the note last night. If so, his trail might point us toward the spot he’s spying on you from.”

  Sally nodded. “Then let’s get moving. It’s almost time to get Tyler up, and I want a shower first.” Setting the afghan aside, she rose and walked from the room.

  Jim watched her enter her bedroom. Tension still coiled in his gut. Damn it, she was distancing herself from him. Things had started out well. His big worry had been telling her about his black ops background. For many people, knowing a man had his kind of experience with death and killing tended to overshadow all other aspects of character. But she’d accepted that without hesitation.

  Then to get shot down by simply admitting he’d served in the Corps. He shook his head in frustration. It wasn’t fair. Once again, he’d tripped over the bones of her dead husband. If he had a brain in his head, he’d give it up and move on.

  Been there, tried that. It didn’t work.

  Resigned to his own intransigence, he pulled the cell phone from his pocket. It looked like a good day for Smith to cover the clinic on his own.

  Sally set her phone down on the dresser. Diana was confident she could get Nancy Attenburough to manage the clinic today, and for the weekend, too. Nancy was a trained veterinary technician with five children. Normally a stay-at-home mom and shelter volunteer, Nancy was also the best occasional shelter manager Sally and Diana had ever found, and with Christmas coming she’d jump at the chance for some extra cash.

  Duty to the shelter satisfied, Sally stepped into the shower, still annoyed that Jim had never told her he’d been in the Corps. He knew Trent had been a Marine. Why keep his own service a sec
ret? She shook her head in disgust—had he thought it would remind her too much of Trent? Shake it off. You know now. Move on.

  Black ops. That explained a lot. The easy way he’d picked her up and carried her to her room, the speed of his movements, the way he could come up behind her without being heard… and that body. She knew a bit about the physical training he’d been through... a grueling mix of martial arts to hone both mind and body. From the look of him, he’d kept up those disciplines after coming home. She shook her head to ward off the tightening and heat between her thighs. Mind out of the gutter, girl.

  She liked Jim’s suggestion that they try to find the stalker’s vantage point. Even though she doubted they would make a major contribution to catching the creep, she was eager to do something. She couldn’t take much more of being some psycho’s play toy.

  Going with Jim made the scheme feel sensible rather than reckless. Wasn’t that odd? She’d never have guessed that the old Jim had black ops experience, yet it wasn’t hard at all to accept that the guy in her living room—the one she thought of as the new Jim—was a professional warrior.

  Why hadn’t it shown before? Or more accurately, how could she have missed it? Maybe she’d been too wrapped up in her own struggles, too emotionally attached to her past, to see who Jim really was.

  As she began to wash, the lilac scent of her soap brought back yesterday morning and the way the scent had clung to him—the way it had been altered by his male chemistry. What was she going to do about the desire—too mild a word—the lust that seemed constantly just beneath the surface when she was with him?

  And she’d reacted much the same way to Daniel Smith as well. Thank goodness she’d felt no stirrings for Officer Billings or for any of the male volunteers at the shelter! Sally had always thought of herself as a one-man woman, and was uncomfortable enough with her apparent ability to want two men at once—more would have been disastrous. It was one more problem requiring thought and insight when, of course, she had too little time for either.