In the Enemy's Sights

by Marta Perry

  “I thought I’d get in some extra time at the office.”

  His brow wrinkled. “Well, miss, that’s a bit of a problem. See, they changed all the locks on the offices yesterday, and I can’t leave the gate to let you in.”

  So much for getting an early start. She might as well have had that second cup of coffee. “Can’t you just give me the key?”

  “Sorry. Mr. Quinn, he gave strict orders not to give my key to anybody.”

  “But I’m the office manager.”

  “Sorry,” he repeated.

  Her stomach churned. She’d thought she was a trusted member of the team. Obviously she’d been wrong. “How am I supposed to get in, then?”

  “Mr. Vance came in about half an hour ago. I guess he could let you in.”

  “Fine.” She threw the car into drive, mentally rehearsing just what she’d say to Ken about locking her out of her own office. “I’ll find him.”

  Lou nodded, stepping back to open the gate. She smiled at him as she drove through. It wasn’t right to be short with Lou. He was just doing his job.

  Ken was another story. He had to have been in on this decision with Quinn.

  She parked and checked the office. Locked and dark. Where was Ken? If she’d brought Angel with her, as he’d suggested, she could have found him in minutes. As it was—

  A movement in the debris area caught her eye, and she started toward it. That was Ken, all right. Wearing shorts and a T-shirt, he appeared to be running around the debris field.

  She frowned as she approached. He was driving himself pretty hard. She’d think, with an eye injury, that pounding along an improvised running track wasn’t the best way of exercising.

  She slowed as she approached him. He hadn’t noticed her. His face was set, his shirt wet with perspiration. Maybe she should wait.

  But he seemed to be slowing. He stopped at the ladder they’d left in place after the last training session, bending over, breathing hard, and she knew instinctively he wouldn’t want her to see him showing any sign of weakness.

  He straightened, looking up the ladder, and then he began to climb. She bit her lip. That definitely looked as if he were pushing too hard. Still, interfering would probably just encourage him to do more out of sheer contrariness.

  Just as she started to turn away, Ken reached the top of the ladder and stepped out onto the plank. Okay, that did it. She started toward him. If he didn’t have enough sense to know that was dangerous, she’d have to interfere.

  She hadn’t gone more than a few steps when Ken stopped, frozen in place, balancing on the plank a good ten feet in the air. Her breath caught. He put his hand to his head, his eyes seeming to lose focus.

  Heedless of upsetting or embarrassing him, she darted forward, reaching him just as he toppled from the plank. She dived, her arms closing around him to break his fall, and they both tumbled into the stack of cardboard boxes under the plank.

  “Are you all right?” She fought her way free of the boxes, catching her breath. “Ken?”

  He shoved himself to his feet and planted his fists on his hips. “Why were you spying on me?”

  She got up slowly, instinct telling her not to snap back at him. She suspected his frustration was with himself, not her, and the only thing she could do was try to take the situation lightly.

  “Hey, take it easy. I won’t tell your mother on you. I promise.”

  For an instant his reaction hung in the balance. Then he flushed. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to snap.”

  “I know.” She studied his face, wondering what was going through his mind. “Seemed like you were pushing yourself pretty hard.” She tried to keep her tone neutral.

  “Yeah.” He ran his hand through his hair. He was still breathing hard, his chest rising and falling with the effort he’d expended. “I have to get back into shape.”

  “I’d say you’re in pretty good shape already after what you’ve been through.”

  He shot her an annoyed look. “Not good enough.”

  “Not good enough for what?” She was probably pushing her luck, but concern for him drove her.

  “Anybody ever tell you you’re too persistent?”

  She smiled, relieved he didn’t flare out at her again. “Funny, I always thought persistence was a good quality.”

  “Sometimes.” He gave her a reluctant smile in return. “Okay, if you must know. I have a physical exam with an Air Force doctor coming up in a couple of weeks. I intend to pass it.”

  “Pass it—you mean as in get certified to fly again?”

  “That’s right. It’s time I got back to what I was born to do.”

  A wave of compassion swept over her. Ken was setting himself up for grief. She didn’t have the right to speak, but someone had to, and she suspected she was the only one who knew what he had planned. That put the responsibility on her.

  Lord, give me the right words.

  “Don’t you think maybe you’re rushing things? It hasn’t been that long.”

  “Long enough.” His face set in grim lines. “I can’t stay here, wasting my life. I’m ready to go.”

  He wasn’t ready. Anyone who’d seen him fall from the plank could have told him that. There was no way he’d be able to pass the rigorous exam this quickly.

  And if he did, somehow, manage to pass? If so, he’d be gone in an instant without a backward glance. A woman would have to be crazy to fall for a man whose heart belonged to the wild blue yonder.

  Not that she was doing any such thing, of course.

  “Enough about that.” Ken shrugged, as if he wanted to shrug off having confided in her. “What are you doing here so early?”

  Her initial irritation came rushing back. “Trying to get some extra work done. I wanted to go over the financial records on my computer, but that’s a little hard to do since I’m locked out of my own office.”

  “Locked out?” He seemed to remember. “Oh, right. Quinn had all the locks changed yesterday. Well, he had to. Obviously someone had had access to your computer in spite of all the security.”

  “And I’m not to be trusted, is that it?” No matter how irrational it was to feel that way, it still rankled.

  “Juli, don’t be silly.” He pulled a set of keys from the pocket of his shorts. “We just decided that the fewer keys were out, the safer we’d be. Come on. I’ll let you in.”

  He stalked off toward the office, not looking back to see if she was coming. It was business as usual for him. And what he’d said made perfect sense.

  She just couldn’t help the feeling that she was being shut out, the outsider yet again.

  Much of the hospital addition was at the bare bones stage inside, even though the exterior walls were up. Ken watched his step as he worked his way around it. The site was a maze, with half constructed walls, the shell of an elevator shaft and plenty of places for someone to hide. Or to get hurt.

  He wasn’t sure which possibility bothered Quinn the most—the idea that the vandals would strike again or the chance that someone would wander onto the property, get hurt and sue Montgomery Construction. In any event, he’d promised Quinn he’d make one more pass before he left for the day.

  With any luck, the construction would go quickly enough that over the next few days the exterior doors and windows would be lockable. Once that was done, the site would be a lot tougher for a vandal to enter. And according to Quinn, the work would go faster as well.

  Ken ducked under a dangling sheet of heavy plastic. This area would be the central rotunda of the addition, and even at this stage, Ken could see the beauty of Quinn’s design. This project could assure the continued success of Montgomery Construction, but only if it was finished on time and without any damaging incidents.

  He passed on through to what would be the office wing of the physical therapy center. A warren of framed-out rooms provided a fine place for mischief, but he didn’t see or hear anything.

  He rubbed his forehead, where the dull ache that
had been with him since the morning threatened to explode into a full-scale, blinding headache. He couldn’t think about that without being reminded of how stupid he’d been with Juli. How could he have accused her of spying on him?

  Fortunately, she’d been able to forgive him that, but she’d certainly had something stuck in her craw about that business with the keys. He wasn’t sure what had been bugging her, and he hadn’t felt able to ask.

  That was a constant motif, it seemed, with him and Juli. He couldn’t dig too deeply, because that would imply a relationship that he wasn’t willing to have. Yet he couldn’t deny the attraction he felt for her, or the longing he had to understand what inner turmoil hid beneath the strong front she showed to the world.

  A sharp clatter, somewhere behind him, had him spinning around, pulses racing. He moved softly back the way he’d come, senses alert for any sound.

  Nothing. The building lay so still around him that only the muted traffic noises from the street intruded.

  But there had been something—he was sure of it. He stood in the rotunda, looking up, listening. No sound broke the silence. It was fruitless for one person to play hide and seek through the construction—there were too many places to hide.

  He glanced at his watch. The night watchmen would be arriving soon. He’d wait for them outside and tell them to do a thorough patrol first thing.

  He walked out the wooden plank to the sidewalk, frowning, reminded of his foolhardiness in trying to walk that two-by-four that morning. What had he been thinking? Even the dogs had difficulty with that one.

  He stepped onto the walk and stopped, eyes narrowing at the sight of the boy who stood, leaning against the construction fence. “Jay. What are you doing here?”

  Jay shrugged, his thin face reserved. “I went over to the office to see if Juli was all right after the accident, but she’d already left. Just thought I’d come over here and see you instead.”

  “How did you know I was here?” His voice was too sharp. Going full tilt at the boy would only raise his defenses.

  “That old guy on the gate told me.”

  The boy looked as if he were on the verge of lashing out. He’d better mend fences with the kid if he wanted any information from him.

  “Oh, sure,” he said easily. “Well, far as I know, Juli’s okay. She bumped her head, but you know Juli. She won’t admit anything’s wrong, even if it is.”

  “Yeah.” Jay’s smile flashed. “She’s pretty tough, isn’t she?”

  “She sure is. I’ll tell you though, we were glad to see you and your dad turn up when you did. We appreciated the help.”

  “It wasn’t anything.”

  “Did you enjoy the powwow?”

  Jay shrugged again, reverting to the bored look teenagers seemed to do so well. “It was okay. My dad makes me go. He wants me to dance, but I dunno about that.”

  “That was my first powwow.” How could he get out the question he needed to ask? “I guess you know Juli and her family pretty well, don’t you?”

  “Pretty well. My dad and her grandpa and grandma go way back.”

  “Her grandmother showed me the jewelry she makes, with the Zuni designs.”

  He was edging closer to the question that had given him such a bad feeling. How had they—whoever they were—known that the lightning symbol would spook Juli so badly? Quinn had suggested coincidence, but he didn’t believe in a coincidence that was so on target.

  “Yeah, it’s pretty nice, I guess. Lots of people on the pueblo make jewelry like that.” The boy was tiring of the subject, starting to edge away.

  “Do you know any particular symbols Juli likes? Or doesn’t like? I was thinking of getting her something.” That sounded pretty feeble, even to him.

  Jay pulled back. “How would I know something like that?” Suspicion edged his tone.

  Maybe it was time to stop trying to be clever with the kid. “Somebody left a Zuni symbol in the office for Juli to find. One that upset her. I want to know—”

  “You think it was me. Just because it was Zuni, you figure I had to be to blame.” The boy’s face paled, his fists clenched.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “That’s what you meant. I know. You figure I can’t be trusted. Fine. I don’t hang around where I’m not wanted.”

  With a lightning move, Jay whirled and ran off down the street.

  He watched the slight figure disappear around the corner. He’d like to follow, but he had to wait for the night watchmen to get here. And following the kid probably wouldn’t do any good, anyway. Ken was now the last person Jay would want to talk to.

  One thing was certain. While he wasn’t looking forward to confessing what he’d done, he’d better run over to Juli’s and let her know what had happened. If anyone could get through to Jay, she could.

  But he didn’t look forward to the tongue-lashing that was probably in store for him.

  Julianna leaned away from the canvas, suddenly aware of the kink in her back. She glanced at her watch, appalled at how late it was getting. She’d been painting since she got home from work, totally absorbed in her creation, unaware of the passage of time.

  She didn’t need to look at the painting to know what it was. She’d been caught in quicksand with her painting for months, constantly re-creating variations of the same scene: The storm.

  Putting her brush down, she rubbed her back. A psychiatrist would probably have a field day with her paintings—not that she intended for anyone ever to see them.

  “Until you’re ready to share your work with others, you won’t find total fulfillment.” Her grandmother’s voice echoed in her mind.

  Grandmother had perfected her art form, going inward to find the source for her creations and then going outward to share her vision with the world. Julianna couldn’t, maybe because her vision was so dark.

  She rubbed the back of her neck. Grandmother was probably right. She usually was. But that didn’t change anything about the way she felt.

  The sound of rapping on the front door intruded on her fruitless thoughts. Wiping her hands on her paint-stained smock, she walked through the archway to the living room and on into the center hall of the elderly Victorian house.

  Through the frosted glass of the front door, she saw who it was. Ken.

  She probably had paint in her hair. Well, what difference did it make? Annoyed with herself, she stalked to the door and threw it open.

  “Ken.”

  “Hi.” He raised his brows. “May I come in? I need to talk with you.”

  The tension in the back of her neck spread, reaching tentacles toward her forehead. Still, she could hardly tell him to go away.

  She stepped back, gesturing to the hallway. “Please.”

  He came inside, looking around curiously. When he’d picked her up for the powwow she’d been waiting for him on the front porch, not sure she wanted him in her private space.

  “Sorry about banging on your door. I rang the bell, but it didn’t seem to be working.”

  She pointed to the dangling wires of the box overhead. “I’m afraid that’s something I haven’t gotten to yet.”

  “This place is yours?”

  “Every leaking pipe and sagging floor.” Now she knew why she hadn’t wanted to invite him in. It made her too aware of all the things she should be doing to her house, just to make it livable.

  “A handyman’s special. Why did you buy it?”

  “I didn’t. My great-aunt left it to me. Besides, the place has a lot of charm,” she added defensively. Poor old house. It didn’t deserve to be bad-mouthed. At least it was hers.

  “It sure does. Some of these old Victorians have been renovated into real showplaces. Look at that gorgeous old woodwork.”

  “I’ve only managed to get the old paint stripped off in the downstairs.” She stroked the satiny oak of the newel post. “But it was worth every hour of back-breaking labor.”

  Ken put his hand next to hers on the post, and her skin wa
rmed as if he’d touched her. “You did a great job.” He brushed at her hair. “It looks as if you’re painting. I’m sorry to interrupt.”

  “It’s nothing.” Suddenly aware of her paint-stained smock, she stripped it off and tossed it in the corner. “I don’t have any dining room furniture, so I use that room as a studio. The light’s pretty good in there. Well, it was when I got home from work. It’s getting too dark to do any more now. You said you had to talk to me about something?”

  “Yes.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of the navy Windbreaker he wore. “Jay Nieto.”

  Tension stiffened her spine. “What about Jay?”

  “Look, is there someplace we can sit down? Preferably with some light?”

  What was she thinking, keeping him standing in the dim hallway? “Come into the living room.” She led the way, thankful that the living room, at least, had been finished.

  He paused at the edge of the Navajo rug that covered the polished pine floor, looking around. He let out a low whistle. “Juli, this is beautiful.”

  She felt her cheeks flush with pleasure at his praise. “It’s not typical décor for a Victorian, I’m afraid.”

  Instead of going with the velvets and needlepoint that would match the architecture, she’d opted for cream walls, a comfortable leather couch with matching chairs, and the pieces of Native American art she’d been collecting since she’d been old enough to understand its beauty.

  “No, it’s better than that, because it represents you, every inch of it.” He crossed to the brown leather chair that was her grandfather’s favorite and sat down, looking far too much at home for her comfort.

  She sat on the couch opposite him, lacing her fingers together. “What about Jay?”

  Ken frowned, his brown eyes darkening. “I ran into him this afternoon. I’m afraid I pushed too hard with him.”

  She took a breath, biting back the scolding words that hovered on her tongue. Ken might deserve them, but she could feel his regret. Whatever had happened between them, he was obviously sorry for it.

  “Tell me.”

  His level gaze met hers, faint surprise showing. “Aren’t you going to start yelling?”