He fell into step beside her. “No, but I do owe you an explanation.”
She stopped and looked him up and down. “You didn’t come here to see the art at all, did you, Professor Tapping.” Her tone turned flat, making her question a statement.
“I did, honest. And please, stick with Colin. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the professor title.” He held the door open so she could pass through. She’d hoisted up the satchel and clutched it tight to her chest. “But as we arrived, it dawned on me that you may still be in danger. The police aren’t sure where the stun grenade that was thrown last night came from, but the fact that somebody had access to one and used it with possible intent to harm is disconcerting. I hoped you’d allow me to keep an eye out for you on your way back to the campus.”
Ginny didn’t look at him as she carefully traversed the museum steps, gripping the handrail for balance. “The police I spoke to last night suggested Donna may have fainted and hit her head, before the grenade thing. She’ll be in the hospital for a few days to have her condition monitored, but it could have been much worse. I thank God it wasn’t.”
“Agreed. But it doesn’t explain where the grenade came from.”
She stopped at the base of the steps, then turned to face him. “I appreciate your concern, but I don’t feel like I’m in danger. This isn’t an area of town where many exciting things happen, you know?”
Colin paused his ongoing visual scan of the museum grounds and nearby parking lot to focus on the woman standing in front of him. He felt a tug in his chest, part of an ingrained need to protect someone who might be in danger. Twelve years of doing that in various capacities in the Service didn’t simply vanish with the change of position.
“I’m glad to hear that. I also know it’s true that getting hit by a stun grenade can be mentally and physically traumatizing, despite its less-than-lethal status. I know you’ve said you don’t feel like you’re in danger, but I’ve also noticed you looking over your shoulder.”
Ginny shifted her weight and trained her gaze on the sidewalk. “It’s silly, right? It was probably a prank, and now I can’t help but feel like I’m being watched. I keep hearing the metallic clink of that thing hitting the wall, rolling toward us...” She broke off, eyes unfocused.
Colin knew that look. She’d retreated into herself, reliving the moment. “Ginny. Professor Anderson.” He touched her shoulder and her eyes came back into focus, angry at first, then softening as he took his hand away. Her expression, so familiar from last night, reminded him of when he’d accidentally brushed the bumpy red scarring on her cheek. He couldn’t see it now—she’d pulled some of her hair up into a messy bun and left the rest to frame her face.
“It’s going to be all right.” He tried to smile to put her at ease, but the gesture felt tight and insincere. “I won’t lie to you, though. I do worry that you might be in danger and I’d like to look out for you, since I have the training and ability to do so. At least until the police have more information on what happened last night.”
She shook her head. “I don’t need another babysitter.”
“Another? Well, I’m not suggesting you do. It makes me nervous that we may have an individual on or around campus with access to serious weaponry, though.”
Ginny scoffed and stepped away from him, continuing her journey toward the parking lot and her car. “I think you’re blowing this out of proportion. We don’t have all the facts and you’re acting like there’s some big scheme at play to hurt me. Need I remind you that the librarian is the one in the hospital, not me?”
“Under constant surveillance from hospital staff. It’s not my intention to cause unnecessary stress, but I want to be up-front with you about my concerns.”
She pressed her lips together, then sighed. “I’m only going from here to my office for now. I teach a class later today and I have a meeting with a historical consultant from the Kingdom of Amar. Then I’ll probably go to the library if it’s reopened, and head home. That’s it. Everywhere will be public, and I’ll bring a Foot Patrol student along if I need to go anywhere after dark or into any locked-up areas. Does that sound safe enough?”
Under normal circumstances, yes, but if his time in the Secret Service’s Presidential Protection Division had taught him anything, it was that threats tended to lurk where the average person least expected them.
“Not particularly. At least let me see you back to campus safely.” He noticed she’d begun straining under the weight of the large satchel in her arms. “Can I carry that bag to your car for you?”
She shook her head and tightened her grip around it. “That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said in the past few minutes, but no. I can’t allow you to carry it. I’m under agreement with the museum that I will not allow the bag to leave my person unless it’s locked up safely in my department’s archaeology lab. And it can’t go beyond the grounds of the museum or college. It’s kind of you to offer, though.”
“What’s so important about the bag?” A growing frustration at her lack of urgency took over and he flicked two fingers against the bag’s handles. He realized his mistake the moment his fingers made contact. Ginny glared at him and it occurred to him that he’d just done the same thing to her that she’d done to him—dismissed her expertise about handling her chosen profession. “Ginny, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“Have a lovely day, Mr. Tapping. I assume you can find your way back to campus.”
He watched as she headed toward her car, her steps sure and confident. He’d handled that in all the wrong ways, and she was under no obligation to accept his offer to look out for her. It was never easy to protect someone who didn’t want protecting. He’d have to make a compromise here and keep an eye on her from a distance for today. As soon as she was safely inside her car, he’d run back to the college—he could use the opportunity to scope out potential threat areas, anyway—and rejoin her in her office to try apologizing again.
The woman had to be feeling bruised and battered after last night, so he couldn’t blame her for becoming irritated by his assertions. Clearly whatever she had inside that satchel held enough importance for her to ignore the pain, get out of bed and haul herself down to the museum.
Colin continued to scan the area until Ginny reached her car at the edge of the parking lot. He began to relax as she made her way to the passenger side of the little blue hatchback—to secure the heavy bag on the seat beside her, he guessed—but the loud roar of an engine springing to life somewhere nearby sent him back into alert mode.
And then he saw it. A white cube van sped down the parking lot aisle, right toward Ginny.
FOUR
Colin’s stomach lurched, first out of concern for how fast the driver was going in a parking lot, and then a second time when he grew sure the van wasn’t headed toward an exit. It sped toward Ginny, who had her back to the parking lot as she secured her bags in the car.
Colin didn’t waste time asking why or how or whether his suspicion even made sense. He sprang toward her with a burst of speed, grateful he’d kept up his physical training despite being out of the Service these past few years. If only he had his sidearm on hand, he’d have the van incapacitated in seconds without breaking a sweat. Short sprints and lightning-fast reaction times made all the difference when on protective detail.
It took a fraction of a second for Colin to recognize that he was too far away to reach her in time. He kept sprinting as the cube van pulled alongside her. The side door slid open and a man with a black hood pulled low over his face jumped out of the van and grabbed Ginny’s waist from behind.
Colin shouted a split second before Ginny’s scream rent the air. The man pulled her out of the car and covered her mouth, but her hands remained latched to the ceiling grab handle above the door. Smart woman, Colin thought. Her quick reaction would buy him enough time to reach her.
He risked a glance at Ginny, who—on seeing Colin’s approach—had released her grip on the car and twisted around in her attacker’s grasp to claw at the man’s face. The man now had her wrists locked in his meaty hands as Ginny attempted to kick at him anywhere she could reach.
Colin heard shouts from inside the van—there were more of these guys inside?—but he couldn’t afford for it to split his focus further. He kicked the gun on the ground toward a row of parked cars and in two strides had gripped the man attacking Ginny by the neck. He wrenched the attacker away from her, throwing him to the ground with practiced efficiency.
The man rolled as he dropped, leaped to his feet and shouted at his companion to retreat. Both assailants scrambled back inside the van, sliding the door closed as it peeled out of the parking lot, tires squealing.
Colin whirled around to make sure Ginny was all right, but she already leaned against the car with her phone in her hand. “Calling 911?”
She nodded as the operator picked up. With exceptional calm, she told them exactly what had happened and hung up. “Police will be here soon.”
He noticed that she too breathed heavily from the exertion moments ago. He was in shape, sure, but an encounter like that took the wind out of anyone, and they were both having trouble catching their breath.
“Are you hurt? Let’s get you sitting down inside the car, all right? Get a few minutes of rest before the emergency teams arrive.”
“I’m okay,” she said, the calm facade slipping as the adrenaline of the moment faded. “Oh, wow. I can’t believe that just happened.”
Colin reached into the passenger side of the car, unhooked the bag she’d been carrying and placed it on the driver’s seat. She didn’t protest as he guided her to sit inside the car, her tremble growing to a full-body shake as the seconds passed. She regarded him with wide, frightened eyes. “Take deep breaths, Ginny. This will pass, but what I need you to do right now is visualize everything that happened. Grab on to details, any small details that you can. Anything at all will help the police find and catch them, got it? I know you want to forget, but the more you can capture in your memory right after this incident, the more accurately you’ll be able to tell them what happened.”
She nodded, swallowing hard before leaning back against the beige car seat. “Guess I should have taken the day off after all.”
“Better to have this happen here than at your home, though.”
She sat up in surprise. “At home? You don’t think this was random? I guess not, considering.”
Colin glanced around the area, staying watchful in case the van had circled around and come back. He didn’t see anything aside from a few startled museum visitors who’d likely witnessed the incident. The familiar wail of emergency sirens rose in the distance. “I think we can rule out random at this point.” His gaze was drawn to the bag she’d been carrying. “I’d say now is a better time than ever to finish the conversation we started earlier. What’s in the bag?”
Ginny laughed without humor. “Nothing worth kidnapping over, that’s for sure. They’re a bunch of old clay tablets from one of the Kingdom of Amar’s archaeological sites. They’ve been sitting in the basement of a museum in England for decades, waiting to be translated. It’s part of a project I’ve been working on for a while. I’m planning to decipher them in hopes that they reveal some more information about the location of the summer palace of King Ramesh.”
Kidnapping and ancient tablets? It sounded more like a movie than real life. “Is there, I don’t know, treasure there?”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “It’s not like that at all. Anyone with a modicum of interest in this stuff knows that all the ancient historical sites were looted centuries ago, and many of them were actually looted in ancient times. The more important thing is the location of the summer palace and proving that it actually exists. It’s been a point of contention because it would prove the royal lineage of the Amaran desert people. It’s a discovery that could change Amar’s accepted history and view of their society for the better. It would be a massive find for history, archaeology and the Kingdom of Amar—but nothing worth kidnapping over. There’s no financial gain in these tablets themselves, even translated. And selling them untranslated is worth nothing.”
“Would they know that?”
“That’s kind of an important detail if you’re kidnapping someone, isn’t it? You think some bad guys would kidnap me for a bag full of old, dried clay? If they were gold statues or even Egyptian faience figurines, it’d be another story. Plus, it doesn’t explain the grenade last night. I didn’t even know I would have these in my possession until about an hour ago.”
Colin had to agree with her, but they’d need to talk about it later. An ambulance arrived along with several police cars. Even if Ginny didn’t know why she’d been targeted, Colin felt sure of one thing—the woman was in danger, and he might be the only one with the necessary ability to protect her.
* * *
Ginny’s hands shook as she sprinkled fish food into Tigris’s tank. Her little orange-and-blue betta fish swam upward and eagerly picked out pieces of dried shrimp as Ginny put the container away. She clasped her hands, trying to still their tremor.
“You need anything?” Colin leaned against the door frame, standing half in her office and half in the department’s main thoroughfare. She appreciated his thoughtfulness in driving her car back to the college and seeing her safely back to the Daviau Center, but for whatever reason, he hadn’t left her alone yet. It had started to feel a bit stifling. They were still strangers, after all.
“You don’t need to hang around,” she said, hoping he’d take the hint. “I know you probably have other things to do.”
“We’re both off from teaching classes for the week, Professor. We should both be at our respective homes, getting some rest.”
“I’m not stopping you.”
He grunted and folded his arms. “I don’t like the idea of leaving you vulnerable. Two attacks in less than twenty-four hours. That’s no prank.”
“There’s also no proof they’re related,” Ginny muttered, slumping into her desk chair. She took a deep, slow breath to shove away the wave of anxiety hovering around the edge of her consciousness. “And last I checked, you’re not Secret Service anymore, so I’m not obligated to accept any kind of protection from you. I don’t appreciate the insinuation that I can’t handle myself.” She paused, the words catching in her throat because she had needed him there. If Colin hadn’t been present last night or this morning, she’d be having a very different conversation. Possibly with an abductor. Or a nurse.
Colin grunted again and stared out into the departmental office. “Never said you’re not capable. Everyone needs help sometimes, and while you’re right—you’re not obligated—I’d consider myself responsible if anything happened to you that was in my power to prevent.”
Ginny breathed deeply as she watched Tigris swim laps in his wide, plastic fishbowl. She did appreciate Colin’s help. He’d come to her rescue without hesitation, the kind of attractive and strong hero whom plenty of girls would love to be saved by, but he’d already told her it came down to instinctive response born through training. Not because he had any kind of personal investment in her well-being. Of course, she should have expected that from someone who’d seen her scar.
“I’ll think about it
, Colin.” With her heart finally beating at a more normal pace, Ginny picked up the satchel of tablets and set them on her desk. Even the events of today couldn’t dislodge the excitement of physically having in her hands a set of ancient tablets she’d only dreamed of seeing. Anxiety followed close behind, too—at best, she’d thought that Mr. Wehbe might find someone to dig the tablets out of crates in the Ashmore Museum’s basement where they’d spent the past sixty or so years, then take updated photos and send those over. But to have entrusted her with the physical objects?
They were valuable from a historical point of view. Potential evidence to support her theory. But while the knowledge that might be gained from them was priceless, the tablets themselves were not. No one would try to abduct her over a bunch of old tablets.
She picked up a sand-colored oblong tablet about the width and length of two candy bars, then ran her fingers lightly over the inscription. The surface felt rough and grainy, though environmental factors had smoothed some of its edges.
“Not much to look at, is it?” Colin regarded the object she held with cool detachment. “Wonder if the original tablets with the Ten Commandments looked anything like that?”
Ginny smiled to herself, used to these kinds of questions. “Actually, those tablets—”
“Professor Anderson?” A voice from the hallway was followed by a face peering around the corner of her office door. Colin stepped aside to allow Sam, a teaching assistant for her Introduction to Near Eastern Studies class, inside. The student was covering the front reception desk for Mrs. McCall, the departmental secretary, who’d stayed home this morning to nurse her sick toddler.
He waved a large, flat yellow mailing envelope in his hand. “I meant to catch you when you came back, but this arrived for you a half hour or so ago. Right before you got back from the museum.”
“Thanks, Sam.” She took it and frowned at the front. The envelope was nondescript, completely unremarkable, with no stamp or return address. Only her name had been affixed to the envelope with a printed label, neglecting to mention her box number or even the name of her department. It had obviously not been through the mail system but simply left here for her. “Who dropped this off?”
Unknown Enemy (Love Inspired Suspense) Page 3