It Had to Be You and All Our Tomorrows

by Irene Hannon

  When he reappeared a few minutes later and went back to work, Caroline tried to ignore him. During her years composing copy in noisy, chaotic newsrooms, she’d learned to tune out distractions and stay focused. Yet those skills deserted her now. Like it or not, David was one big distraction. Finally, realizing that she was just spinning her wheels and wasting both their time, she reached for her tote and rose.

  When she appeared at her door, David looked up in surprise. “Ready so soon?”

  “Yes. I’ll finish up tomorrow.”

  “You’re not rushing because of me, are you?”

  Yes. But not for the reasons you think. “No. It’s just been a long day. What’s left can wait until tomorrow.”

  “Okay.” He swept his papers into a neat pile and slid them into his briefcase, then stood and followed her to the back exit. After she tapped in the code to set the night alarm system, they stepped out into the July heat.

  “I didn’t realize St. Louis was so muggy in the summer.” David reached up to loosen his tie, giving the parking lot a quick but thorough scan as he walked with her toward her car.

  “This is just a preview. Wait until August.”

  “That’s encouraging.”

  She chuckled. “It does take some getting used to. Especially if you’re from a place like Chicago that has a more reasonable climate in the summer.”

  “I prefer your winters, though.”

  “We’ve been lucky the past few years.” Caroline was grateful for the small talk. It was easier to deal with than more personal subjects. And safer.

  As usual, he opened her door, and she reached in to put her tote bag on the passenger seat before thanking him. But the words died in her throat when she straightened up and once more caught the unguarded look in his eyes. For the briefest second, she saw a warmth that made the July heat seem tame. A warmth suffused with yearning that told her in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t alone in the attraction she’d been feeling. Unfortunately, she had no idea how to deal with that revelation. Or this situation.

  * * *

  David stared at the woman beside him, just inches away, and his fingers itched to reach out to her. To stroke her silky skin. To pull her close and wrap her in his arms. To protect her and shield her and love her. That urge had been growing stronger every time he was in her presence. And he was losing his battle to keep his distance, to maintain control.

  But not tonight, he told himself, shoving his hands in the pockets of his slacks before he did something with them that he’d regret. He’d already revealed too much in the office a few minutes before, when he’d looked up to find her watching him. The temptation to touch her had been so strong that he’d actually walked to her office. Only the medallion around her neck had stopped him. The message it communicated, to back off, was as clear as the one that had been scratched onto her car two weeks before. Meaning that moving too soon would be a mistake. One that he might not be able to fix. And he wasn’t about to take that chance.

  “I’ll follow you home.” He tried to keep his tone conversational, but his voice was uneven, at best.

  Instead of speaking, she just turned and slipped into her car. He shut the door and then headed for his own car a couple of spots away. And as he slid into the driver’s seat and put his key in the ignition, he knew that one of these days, despite his best efforts, he was going to have to follow his heart. He just prayed that the Lord would give him restraint until the time was right.

  * * *

  In the days that followed, Caroline found her thoughts straying far too often to David. Her concentration slipped, and she wished she could focus on something—anything—except the man with the compelling, deep brown eyes.

  Two weeks later, when the phone rang one afternoon in her office, she got her wish. And was sorry she’d ever made it.

  “There’s a bomb inside the Chronicle. You’ve got fifteen minutes to get out.”

  The muffled voice on the other end of the phone was almost indecipherable, but the message came through loud and clear. Caroline sprang to her feet, stabbing in 911 with a shaking finger even as she rose.

  As soon as her call was answered she spoke, struggling to keep her voice steady. “This is Caroline James, managing editor at the County Chronicle. The paper has just received a bomb threat. The caller said the bomb would go off in fifteen minutes.”

  “We’ll dispatch a bomb squad immediately. Evacuate the building and move away from the perimeter walls. The police should be there within a couple of minutes. Call back from a secure location if you need more instructions before then.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” Caroline severed the connection, then called each of her department heads to relay the information and to ask that they make sure all of their people left the building. By her third call, there was already a flurry of activity outside her office as staff members began to rise in panic and rush toward the exits. When she finished the last call she grabbed her tote, pulling her cell phone out as she headed for her office door.

  “Tess!”

  Her assistant editor stopped in mid-flight, then hurried toward Caroline. The color had drained from her face, and she looked as shaken as Caroline felt. “Aren’t you leaving?” Tess asked.

  “Yes. But I’m going to do a walk-through first to make sure everyone’s out. The police and bomb squad are on the way. Will you talk to them until I get out there?”

  “Sure.”

  “Okay. Now go.”

  Caroline did a rapid inspection of the office. Only when she was convinced that everyone was out did she head for the door, tapping in David’s office number as she strode through the lobby toward the front door.

  “David? Caroline. We’ve had a bomb threat.”

  She heard the crash of a chair, as if David had jumped to his feet. “What!?”

  “We’ve had a bomb threat. The police and bomb squad are on the way.”

  “Are you safe?”

  “I’m leaving the building now.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  “Look, you don’t need to come. I just wanted you to know.”

  “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Are you out yet?”

  She pushed open the front door and stepped into the late-afternoon sunlight. The police had already blocked off the street and seemed to be evacuating the surrounding buildings. Employees and curious onlookers were gathering in a parking lot across the street, and Caroline headed in that direction. “Yes. I just walked out the door.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

  By the time David arrived, Caroline had spoken to both the police and the bomb squad. She’d also dismissed the staff. It was late, and she doubted whether they’d get back inside before the workday ended. A lot of staffers were hanging around, though, including Jared. And news crews from the local TV stations were also arriving.

  Weaving his way through the crowd, David made a beeline for Caroline. When he reached her he grasped her upper arms, relief flooding his features. “Are you okay?”

  “Of course.”

  But she didn’t look okay. Her face was drained of color, and he could feel the tremor in her muscles beneath his fingertips. Like the besieged rudder on a storm-tossed boat, his resolve to keep his distance snapped and he pulled her into his arms, pressing her close. Only then did he truly believe she was safe. It took every ounce of his willpower to finally release her and take a step back. “What happened?”

  She stared at him, wide-eyed, as if the embrace had thrown her even more off balance. “A—a threat was called in. He said it would go off in fifteen minutes. That was twenty minutes ago.”

  “So it was a hoax?”

  “I guess so. But they’re not treating it that way.” She inclined her head toward the police activity on the other side of the yellow tape that had been
used to rope off the area.

  “I would hope not. Has anyone given you an update?”

  “Officer Scanlon is here. About five minutes ago he told me that they hadn’t found anything yet. And they asked me a lot of questions about the security system.” She looked toward Jared, still standing off to one side, then moved closer to David and lowered her voice. “Based on the incident with my car, the police seem to think this may be gang-related, too. They want to talk to Jared.”

  David had come to the same conclusion. And he was sure Caroline had, too, or she wouldn’t have felt it necessary to call him right away. He looked over at the teen, who was still watching the activity from the sidelines, before turning his attention back to Caroline. “I can understand their concern. They probably think this is another intimidation tactic.” He raked his fingers through his hair and fisted one hand on his hip. “This incident isn’t going to be as easy to downplay as your car.”

  Surveying the TV cameras, Caroline nodded. “I know. But we don’t have to tell the media about the potential gang tie-in. The police will be discreet, too, unless they find some direct evidence linking this to gang activity. And I doubt they will.”

  Caroline’s cell phone began to vibrate, and she reached for it distractedly, her attention still focused on the scene before her. But when she answered it, she realized that the caller was the same person who had made the bomb threat, and her grip tightened, turning her knuckles white.

  “This was just a warning. Next time it will be for real unless you get rid of Jared,” the muffled voice said before the connection was severed.

  As a look of shock passed across Caroline’s face, David’s eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong?” When she didn’t respond, he gripped her arms again, pinning her with an intense gaze. “Caroline, what’s wrong?”

  “It...it was the same person who called earlier. He said this was j-just a warning, but that next time it would be for real. Unless I get rid of Jared.”

  David’s face grew hard, and he led her over to a low wall at the edge of the parking lot, urging her down as he motioned for a nearby officer. When the man joined them, David spoke. “Ms. James just had another call from the person who issued the bomb threat.”

  The man turned and gestured to another policeman, just as a reporter from one of the local TV stations honed in on them, camera crew in tow.

  “Ms. James? Angela Watson, KMVI. Could you tell us what’s going on?” The woman shoved a microphone in Caroline’s face.

  “I have no comment right now.”

  “We see bomb-sniffing dogs. Was there a bomb threat?”

  “The police are still investigating. It would be premature to comment.”

  When the woman started to ask another question, David stepped between her and Caroline. “The lady said she has nothing further to say right now.”

  The reporter gave him a venomous look, then stalked off. When he was sure she didn’t intend to return, David sat beside Caroline and reached for her ice-cold hand, twining his fingers with hers and giving them an encouraging squeeze. Although her responses to the reporter had been composed and professional, the trembling he’d felt earlier had increased. “Hang in there, okay?”

  She tried to summon up a smile. “Yeah.”

  Several police officers gathered around as Caroline relayed the latest message.

  “We’ll continue to sweep the building, but my guess is there’s nothing inside—this time,” Officer Scanlon said. “And now that the caller has tied this to your intern, we need to talk to him as soon as possible.”

  “But he cut his gang ties weeks ago,” Caroline said.

  “Maybe. But even if he did, it’s clear that his presence at the Chronicle still poses a risk.”

  She couldn’t argue with that. It appeared she and David might lose their gamble with Jared after all—through no fault of the teen’s. If the threat had remained directed just against her, Caroline wouldn’t budge. But she had dozens of staff members to worry about. She couldn’t endanger them. And David couldn’t endanger the entire Uplink program for one student, no matter how talented he was.

  Caroline faced the officer. “So are we just supposed to let that gang scare us into submission?”

  “I don’t like it, either, ma’am,” he replied. “Why don’t you let us check out your security system? If it’s adequate, and if your staff is on high alert and no strangers are allowed in without proper clearance, there’s little chance that a bomb could be placed inside. We’ll also check out your maintenance crews. That could be a weak spot. If everything looks clean, you’ll probably be okay.”

  It was the “probably” that gave her pause. And another quick glance at David confirmed that he felt the same way.

  “I don’t like playing the odds,” he said, a frown creasing his brow.

  “You folks will have to make that decision, based on our evaluation. In the meantime, I’d like to talk to your intern.”

  “He’s right over there.” David nodded toward Jared. “Can you let me lead off? We didn’t tell him about the car incident, so he has no clue that any of this is related to him.”

  “Sure.”

  As David rose and motioned Jared over, Caroline stood and noted the curious looks being directed at the teen as he wove his way through the crowd. She turned to the officer. “Could we have this discussion somewhere in private?”

  The policeman gave the scene a rapid survey, then pointed toward an insurance office a couple of stores down. “I know the owner there. I’m sure he’ll let us use his conference room. Let me check it out.”

  As the man strode down the sidewalk, Jared joined them. His body was stiff with tension, and there was a look of caution on his face. “What’s up?” he asked.

  “The police have a few questions,” David told him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

  “What kind of questions?” Fear licked at the edges of his voice.

  The officer reappeared on the sidewalk and motioned to them. “Let’s talk about it in private,” David suggested, leaving his arm around the boy’s tense shoulders as he guided him toward the insurance company.

  The small group remained silent until seated in the conference room. David spoke first, his tone measured and nonaccusatory. “Jared, today’s bomb threat was gang-related.”

  Surprise widened the teen’s eyes before they narrowed in suspicion. “How do you know?”

  “Ms. James just got another call, telling her that unless we let you go, there will be another threat. And next time it will be for real. This isn’t the first incident, either. A couple of weeks ago, Ms. James found a warning scratched onto her car, telling her to back off. We weren’t sure at the time that it was related to your internship, but this confirms it.”

  “I didn’t have anything to do with any of this.” Jared’s tone was defensive, but fear etched his features.

  “We believe you, Jared. But the police still have a few questions.”

  A bleak look settled over his face and he slumped in his seat. “I’m sorry I caused problems,” he told Caroline.

  “None of this is your fault, Jared,” she assured him.

  “At least as far as we can tell,” Officer Scanlon qualified. As all three sets of eyes focused on him, he faced Jared and continued. “I understand you’re trying to cut your ties to the gang.”

  “I did cut them.”

  “That’s not easy to do.”

  “Yeah. Tell me about it.”

  When he didn’t offer any more information, David stepped in, relaying the story of Jared’s trip to the hospital.

  “Is that right?” the officer asked Jared.

  “Yeah.”

  “Why didn’t you report it?”

  The teen stared at him. “I already had two broken ribs. I didn’t want more. Or worse.”
>
  After a moment, the officer gave a curt nod. “Okay. I know they play rough. I can appreciate your caution. But we’re in a different league now. This bomb threat endangers dozens of people. We need information.”

  Jared swallowed. “I don’t know anything.”

  “Names would help.”

  “Look, man, I’ve been out of touch with the gang for weeks. People come and go.”

  “Not the leaders.”

  Shifting in his seat, Jared looked from David to Caroline. The distress on his face was so agonizing that Caroline’s heart ached for him. Reaching out, she covered his hand with hers. “We have to cooperate with the police,” she said softly. “If we don’t, the gang will win. And we’ll all have to live in fear.”

  He looked down at her hand. He’d been in some tough situations, but this was one of the toughest. For most of his life he’d figured he didn’t owe anybody anything, except maybe Nan. No one had ever done him any favors, given him a break. Sure, a couple of teachers at school had made him feel pretty good, had seemed to believe in him. But nobody had ever put themselves on the line for him like Mr. Sloan and Ms. James had. So he owed them. Giving the police the information they wanted was dangerous—for him. But he didn’t see any way around it. Not if he wanted to be able to live with himself.

  With an effort, he swallowed past the lump in his throat. Then he looked over at the cop. “Okay. I’ll give you the names. But I’m not even sure they’re still in charge. And even if they are, they’re smart. You’re not going to be able to tie them to this.”

  “Let us worry about that.” Officer Scanlon flipped open his notebook and took out his pen, scribbling down the names as Jared ticked them off. “Okay. That’s a start, anyway,” he said when Jared finished. “We’ll check them out. In the meantime, we’ll do a security assessment of your facility,” he told Caroline. “You might want to have people work from home tomorrow.” He stood and tucked the notebook in his pocket. “I’ll be in touch. And you did the right thing,” he told Jared.

  The boy drew a long, unsteady breath. “Yeah.”

  “We’ll need you to hang around for a while,” the officer told Caroline. “In case there are any other questions.”