HEATHER LOWELL
WHEN
THE
STORM
BREAKS
Contents
Dedication
Chapter 1
“What do you think, dear?” Peggy Gallagher looked over the…
Chapter 2
Several hours later watched the elevator doors swish closed on…
Chapter 3
Bitch.
Chapter 4
Officer Reggie Garfield had responded to calls at the Suds…
Chapter 5
Detective Sean Richter swore luridly when his pager went off…
Chapter 6
Sean’s instincts were screaming all the way to George Washington…
Chapter 7
An insistent hand briskly shook Claire’s shoulder. “Ms. Lambert? Claire?…
Chapter 8
Claire emerged from a sleep so deep she hadn’t moved…
Chapter 9
The chunky heels on Olivia Goodhue’s loafers clicked loudly in…
Chapter 10
“Do you have your car?” Sean asked Aidan as they…
Chapter 11
“A brutal murder has sent shock waves through a quiet D.C.…
Chapter 12
Olivia searched up and down Claire’s street, looking for a…
Chapter 13
The man sat behind the wheel of his two-door BMW,…
Chapter 14
Captain Michaels hadn’t been impressed with Sean’s theory that the…
Chapter 15
The doctors Sean had hoped to talk to weren’t available…
Chapter 16
Sean dragged a grumpy Aidan through the revolving doors of…
Chapter 17
Sean grunted with the effort of blocking the baskedball. He…
Chapter 18
Claire was relieved when Olivia finally went back to work…
Chapter 19
Claire Stalked into the building that held Camelot’t offices. She…
Chapter 20
“We’re so relieved that you weren’t seriously hurt, Claire. What…
Chapter 21
The man sat outside the gourmet coffee shop on Wisconsin…
Chapter 22
Sean and Aidan sat at a scarred table in the…
Chapter 23
As soon as Claire closed the door in Sean’s face,…
Chapter 24
Sean made it in three mintues flat because he didn’t…
Chapter 25
Aidan locked the door as the last of the evidence…
Chapter 26
“I still don’t think is a good idea.” Olivia’s voice…
Chapter 27
Sean walked through the doors to the police station late…
Chapter 28
Claire made a sound of annoyance as she set her…
Chapter 29
The man settled more comfortably into his folding chair and…
Chapter 30
The tension Afton’s office at Camelot was so obvious that…
Chapter 31
Safely hidden behind the darkened glass of a café window…
Chapter 32
“It’s about time,” Captain Michaels said when Sean and Aidan
Chapter 33
Claire looked impatiently out the window of the cab. The…
Chapter 34
“So tonight’s the big date, huh?” Olivia asked. She was…
Chapter 35
Sean had won the coin toss, meaning he would follow…
Chapter 36
Less than twenty-four hours after her last date, Claire found…
Chapter 37
Claire stepped out into the muggy night air and turned…
Chapter 38
The man braked at a dimly lit stop sign…
Chapter 39
Claire walked into Afton’s office Sunday evening and was…
Chapter 40
Billy Green, a congressional staffer from Dubuque, lowa, was…
Chapter 41
Claire sat next to Afton in the offices of Camelot.
Chapter 42
“Thanks for coming in on such notice,” Sean said, holding…
Chapter 43
Aidan and Sean left the conference room and Dr. Morton…
Chapter 44
“Why would three otherwise sane women pay outrageous prices to…
Chapter 45
Claire sipped her mineral water and decided that even modern,…
Chapter 46
“It’s called a turn signal moron,” Claire said aloud to…
Chapter 47
Sean woke when the rain stopped. The windows of his…
Chapter 48
Claire awoke feeling tired, grumpy, and distinctly sore in certain…
Chapter 49
Sean tried to put Claire out of his mind. It…
Chapter 50
Claire stepped into her high heels and triedly rolled her…
Chapter 51
The man frowned as Marie Claire’s cab pulled away from…
Chapter 52
Sean and Aidan sat at their desks reviewing the status…
Chapter 53
Claire stood in front of the bathroom mirror and ran…
Chapter 54
Sean and Aidan were two blocks from Afton’s house when…
Chapter 55
Sean went outside to where Aidan was making notes on…
Chapter 56
Sean impatiently paced the suite’s living room. He’d already told…
Chapter 57
The man stepped out of his apartment to pick up…
Chapter 58
Claire woke to a bright, sunny room and the unfamiliar…
Chapter 59
Aidan was seated at his desk, but he jumped up…
Chapter 60
The man sat in his apartment dining room and carefully…
Chapter 61
“Your noon appointment is here” Afton’s receptioist said.
Chapter 62
Aidan was in the kitchen of the safe house, reviewing…
Chapter 63
The man walked confidently through the lobby of the shabby…
Chapter 64
Sean stepped into the offices of Camelot and tried not…
Chapter 65
Afton paced around the conference table, stopping occassionally to sift…
Chapter 66
The man sat quietly behind a lilac bush, waiting for…
Chapter 67
Sean pounced on his cell phone when it rang. “Aidan?”…
Chapter 68
“Gin,” Olivia said. She laid down her winning hand and…
Chapter 69
Olivia waited in a dark corner of the attic until…
Chapter 70
Aidan drove recklessly down the narrow suburban streets—dispatch hadn’t…
Chapter 71
Sean held the cell phone in his hands, trying not…
Chapter 72
Claire sat in the passenger seat of the killer’s car…
Chapter 73
“Where is Diaz? Is he able to answer any questions?”…
Chapter 74
Wilkes looked in the rearview mirror, then in both side…
Chapter 75
Sean forced himself to slow down as he neared the…
Chapter 76
Claire’s brilliant idea to go into the school didn’t seem…
Chapter 77
“I’m notnormally a needle fan,” Claire said to Sean,…
About the Author
Copyright
About the Publisher
To my parents,
for knowing when to catch me,
and when to let me fly.
And always believing
that the latter was possible.
Chapter 1
Washington, D.C.
July
Friday evening
“Southern Belle, thirty, seeks prince to carry her off to his castle and take care of her forever.”
“What do you think, dear?” Peggy Gallagher looked over the table at her new client.
Claire Lambert shifted in her chair, struggling for a response that wouldn’t offend Peggy. She turned to her friend Afton for assistance, since she had been the one to talk her into joining a dating service in the first place.
“Doesn’t that caption sound like something to grab a man’s attention, Marie Claire?” Peggy pressed.
Deciding Afton wasn’t going to help, Claire thought about her options. She might have been tired after a long day—a long week, really—but not tired enough to let that gem get by her untouched. Joining the Gallaghers’ dating service was humiliating enough, but having a blurb like the one Peggy had suggested appear next to her picture would be pathetic.
Besides, she hated being called Marie Claire.
Claire worked hard to look serious. “I was thinking more along the lines of ‘Businesswoman, thirty, has castle, seeks prince to help with upkeep and provide occasional foot massage.’”
Claire’s deadpan expression was angelic. She had spent her formative years tormenting the nuns at Our Heavenly Savior Catholic Girls School in New Orleans, so getting Peggy’s back up was easy.
Peggy drew herself up straight in her chair, inhaling through her flared nostrils, while across the table, her daughter and business partner covered laughter with a cough. Afton Gallagher truly enjoyed seeing someone make her mother pucker up—it happened so rarely.
“Mom, why don’t you make sure the computer is set up for Claire to view the eligible candidates. She and I can work on her bio later,” Afton said, careful to not meet Claire’s gaze.
Peggy surveyed them both for a long moment. “All right. But really, Marie Claire, you should put more thought into developing the caption to go with your picture in the catalogue. It’s the first impression the male candidates will have of you, and you certainly don’t want to come across as too flip. Or assertive. Men don’t care for that in a young lady.”
Peggy pushed back from the table, straightened her skirt with a practiced move, and went out the door of the conference room. Claire looked closely at her departing figure, trying to see if Peggy was, indeed, wearing nylons and a slip in the sweltering heat of a Washington, D.C. summer.
Claire looked up and caught Afton rolling her eyes. They shared a moment of silent humor over Peggy’s stodgy approach to both fashion and romance in the twenty-first century.
Then Claire straightened in her chair, turning dancing black eyes to Afton. “Hey, I left out the part about ‘providing foot massages in exchange for the occasional blow job.’”
Afton laughed out loud. It was just like Claire to say something outrageous and make her forget that it was after nine on a Friday evening, and she had been working without a break for the last seven days. She’d had to stay late tonight to accommodate Claire’s busy schedule, but she didn’t mind doing her friend this favor. Besides, it had been Afton’s nagging that had convinced Claire to give the dating service a try in the first place. The least she could do was offer moral support.
“I’m suddenly not sure about signing up for a dating service,” Claire said once she’d stopped laughing. “It seems so, I don’t know, sad. Needy.” That was one word she would never use to describe herself. She hated being in a situation where that particular shoe might fit.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Afton said quickly, not wanting Claire to back out now that she had finally dragged her in. “We went over this before. You’re paying for a service—special friend’s price, I might add—just like getting your carpets cleaned or your car washed. We’re providing you with something you don’t have time to do yourself. It’s as simple as that.”
“Maybe, but I never had to fill out my preferences for eyes, hair, and build on the carpet cleaner or car wash guy before.” Claire’s eyes were serious, yet she gave a half smile. Afton had become a very close friend in the past six months because Claire admired intelligence, guts, and determination. She didn’t want to wimp out and waste everyone’s time. “Oh, never mind. Let’s go look at our selection of eligible studs in the catalogue before I lose my nerve completely.”
Chapter 2
Several hours later Claire watched the elevator doors swish closed on the offices of Camelot Dating Services, Inc. Finally, an end to what had to be one of the more humiliating evenings she had endured in her thirty years on the planet.
How had she let Afton talk her into diving back into the dating pool? And with a dating service—talk about the deep end. Claire cringed every time she thought about it. After looking at hundreds of pictures of male candidates, and reading hundreds of intros ranging from mildly clever to downright cheesy, she was convinced she’d never find anyone worth dating in a single’s catalogue.
Monday she’d call Afton and tell her it had all been a big mistake.
The elevator doors opened into the lobby. Claire passed a heavyset security guard on her way out to the street.
“Want me to call you a cab, miss?” The guard apparently hoped she would answer no, because he barely looked up from the magazine he was flipping through.
“No, thank you. I’m just going to walk to Dupont Circle and catch the bus into Georgetown. There’s one coming by just after midnight.”
“Gonna get wet. Storm’s about to break.” This was offered with another indolent flip of the pages, punctuated by a rumble of thunder outside.
“I’m prepared—my umbrella is right here.” She was always prepared. Checking the Weather Channel every morning before getting dressed was part of her comfortable daily routine.
On her way out the heavy revolving door, she hesitated a moment too long before stepping through the opening. The door jammed on the full-length umbrella trailing behind her. She set her jaw, pulled the umbrella free, and left before seeing whether the noise had been enough to stir the security guard from his comfortable perch.
As she hurried down the street, Claire tried to open the mangled umbrella decorated with a whimsical depiction of blue skies and sunshine. It stopped opening after no more than a few inches. Leaves rustled as a gust of wind brought a light spatter of raindrops down across her silk blouse.
“Beautiful. Livvie’s going to kill me,” Claire muttered out loud. The umbrella had been a present from her best friend Olivia, brought back after a visit to the Metropolitan Museum in New York.
Claire checked her watch as another gust of wind ruffled her collar. She’d better hurry if she wanted to catch that bus. Despite the late hour, she chose a shortcut across the grounds of one of the area’s numerous schools. She took a canister of pepper spray from her purse and trotted across the poorly lit area. As she hurried across the blacktop playground, she rehearsed what she would tell Afton when she canceled her dating service membership on Monday.
Just tell her you’ve had terrible luck dating in the past, that it’s only ever brought boredom or disaster. Claire ducked her head to keep the rain out of her eyes. Tell her you’ve come to your senses and aren’t really that desperate for someone to go with to museum exhibitions and quiet dinners.
She laughed humorlessly at her own pitiful dating aspirations.
Lightning flashed, briefly illuminating the lonely playground with its creaking swings and jungle gym. When thunder crashed directly overhead, Claire paused. Lightning came again. She counted the seconds until the thunder as she struggled to open her umbrella.
No luck.
Raindrops came faster now, driven by the sticky, restless wind. A few dark curls were pulled from the neat twist she wo
re while at work.
As she pushed hair back out of her face, she began to jog in earnest, thinking of the tiny shelter provided at the bus stop. If the storm got really bad, she could always go into one of the bars off the Circle and call for a cab. Right now the rain was a welcome break from the night’s oppressive humidity.
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