Swinging back around with the help of one foot, she found Clark seated in one of the two chairs in front of her desk. So focused on her own drama, she hadn’t heard him come in.
“What’s wrong?”
She read the concern in his face and wanted to cry all the more. She didn’t need sympathy. Not that she didn’t appreciate it from Clark, but it was liable to get her feeling all the more vulnerable and flustered.
Katherine replaced the receiver with trembling fingers. “My mother’s decided to make my business hers.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s talked two of my contributors out of backing this shelter. I never understood why they kept dodging my calls and avoiding me. Now I have my answer.”
“I’m sorry.”
Clark rose from his chair, came around and sat down on her side of the desk. When he caught her hand, she watched his fingers twine with hers. Such large, capable, and powerful hands. Yet gentle and safe. Just like his personality.
“It sounds like your mother wants to shut down the Morning Dove.”
She stiffened. Impossible. But was it? Katherine thought back to previous conversations and the active dislike in her mother’s words and actions, and Katherine knew, no matter how much she wanted to deny it, Clark spoke the truth.
“If my mother thinks she’s going to get away with meddling, she’s got another think coming. I’ve had enough. I’m calling her.” Slipping her hand from Clark’s, she reached for the phone.
“Wait.” He blocked the phone with a hand. “You’re way too upset. You need time to cool down.”
“I don’t know. I can’t think. I can’t— Why?” Tears burned the back of her eyes. Jaw clenching, Katherine focused on the anger, anything to smother the crazy urge to cry. She looked up, taken aback at the fury in Clark’s gray eyes.
“It has something to do with the missing kids from the shelter. Spalding and Miltronics are tied to this place. But I’ve never been able to understand the why. And now there’s your mother.”
“So you’re saying my mother’s involved in the teenager’s disappearances.” Hearing it aloud made the realization all the more frightening. Then she remembered the last time she’d seen her uncle—the menace in his eyes, the threat in his words. “Oh, my goodness. These kids aren’t safe! There’s Zack. And—and Tracy. I can’t let anything happen to them!”
“Nothing’s going to happen to anyone.” Leaning forward, Clark cupped the back of her head and forced her to meet his gaze. “Do you understanding? I’m not going to let that happen. We’ll figure this out. Don’t worry. And we’ll do it together.”
Zack, with a head full of dreadlocks, popped into the office. “Hey, Kath.” Staring at the two of them, he stumbled to halt. “Oh, hey, sorry—”
Katherine stiffened, and Clark pulled away. She started to reply, but she stumbled to a halt. Zack had disappeared.
Obviously frustrated at the interruption, Clark pushed off her desk. “Let’s get out of here and grab something to eat. We can’t talk here.”
“But—”
“No ‘buts.’ You’re taking the afternoon off. I insist. George’s here. The guy looks capable of handling things for a while, and as long as everyone sticks together, they’ll be fine. And anyway, you’re not going to be able to work as it is, are you?”
~~*~~
Clark thought she was going to argue for a minute, but after a long pause, she wrapped a strand of golden hair behind her ear and nodded. He waited as she put away her papers and retrieved her purse from beneath her desk. They grabbed their jackets and found George in the lobby.
He glanced at both of them and frowned. “What’s going on?”
“Katherine’s taking a break,” Clark answered. “But she needs to feel that everyone’s safe. Don’t let anyone through those front doors you can’t trust, and make sure the kids don’t go off somewhere alone.”
“I knew something was going on,” George muttered. He stared at Clark with narrowed eyes but had the sense not to argue or ask questions. “It figures. We’ve got no security around here. At least I’ve got a baseball bat if anyone gives us any crap.”
Clark eyed the other man and relaxed. George might be hitting his mid-fifties, but he looked like he’d seen and done a hell of a lot in those years. Over six feet of muscle and bone, the guy probably tipped the scales well over two hundred, more than enough weight behind him to do some damage with his bare hands, never mind a baseball bat.
Katherine frowned. “You never told me you had a baseball bat stashed away.”
George shrugged a large shoulder. “I keep it around just in case. I haven’t had to use it yet.”
“I know I’ve been pretty lax when it comes to security,” Katherine admitted. “But I’ve been looking into getting a guard dog. Goodness knows, the kids have been smuggling any four-legged stray they get their hands on into the shelter.”
As Clark opened the door for Katherine and he stepped through the threshold after her, a hand clamped down around his shoulder. Clark turned.
George stood with his feet planted beneath his considerable weight and regarded Clark with dark brown, threatening eyes. Clark didn’t flinch or break away from the biting pressure of other man’s fingers.
“Take care of her. You got that?”
“I will. With my life.”
Which didn’t say much with the way Clark was handling his own, but it seemed to be enough for George, because the older man’s face cleared, and he nodded, withdrawing his hand from Clark’s shoulder.
“Good. She means a lot to us here.”
Clark took it for what it was. A warning. He nodded sharply and followed Katherine from the Morning Dove.
When they reached Katherine’s car, Clark watched her fumble with her keys. “Here. I’ll drive.”
Katherine tossed him the keys. After slipping behind the wheel and insuring both their seatbelts were buckled tight, he started the Mazda.
“I think you might’ve been right about needing a break.” From beside him, Katherine pressed her head against the backrest. “I still can’t believe George’s been carrying around a baseball bat.”
“You’re far too trusting.”
“Mmmm, maybe. But I’d rather be that than too jaded. Anyway, it works with the kids at the shelter. They’ve had so much distrust in their lives. To actually have someone who trusts and believes in them— Well, it’s a balm to their ego and self-esteem and makes them want to achieve so much more.”
Clark glanced over and saw the conviction in the gentle lines of her face, the earnestness in her soft brown eyes, and shook his head. “You love what you do, don’t you?”
“Very much so.”
The soft, husky tone of her voice washed over him. Such feeling, such belief. And beautiful. Inside and out. Today, she’d left her hair loose. It fell, thick and golden over her shoulders.
He remembered how those silken strands had felt between his fingers, how she’d arched, exposing the long, delicate line of her throat for his lips, how her skin had tasted, how hot and responsive—
Dam.
This morning, she’d left without saying goodbye, the scent of her still lingering against his bed sheets. Yeah, he’d been disappointed. He’d hoped...
Sighing, he pulled out of the parking lot and merged with traffic. “So where to?”
“Have you ever had sushi?”
An image of dead fish with slimy scales and open eyes came to mind. “Sushi...I don’t know...”
Katherine laughed. All throaty and warm. Completely spontaneous. He loved it when she laughed like that.
“Not a good suggestion, I take it,” she teased.
“Let’s just say it’s not one of your best ones, but I like chili cheese dogs.”
“Okay. Hotdogs it is. I know of a great place. You’ll like it. I promise. It’s a sports bar. It’s only about ten minutes away. At the next light, you’ll want to turn right.”
“Sounds great.” He loo
ked over and was glad to see the tension had eased from her face. She worked too hard. Granted, George helped, but Clark knew she shouldered far more responsibility than most women. “So how did you meet George?”
“George...?”
“Yes, George.”
“Umm. I don’t know... It was so long ago... We just kind of met.”
He noticed with one quick glance that she’d grown inordinately interested in her hands folded across her lap. “There’s more you’re leaving out.”
“What makes you think that?”
Now he was convinced she was hiding something. “Because you’re a terrible liar.”
She sighed. “He answered an employment ad I ran in the paper.”
“And you did a background check on him, right?”
“Well, of course!”
“And?”
“Fine!” Her voice turned disgruntled. “He’s got a prior. Okay?”
Grinding his teeth to cut off a four-letter word, Clark stopped himself from strangling the steering wheel. Barely. Breaking the thing wouldn’t be the smartest move while moving through congested traffic.
“What was he in for?”
“Manslaughter.”
“Damn it! What the hell type of people do you have working for you!”
“That’s enough! There’s nothing wrong with George. He’s clean. Has been for years!” She waved a hand toward the windshield. “You’re going to want to turn left at the next light.”
Clark flicked a glance to the side mirror, and then cut in front of a minivan in the next lane. A car horn blared, but he didn’t look back.
“He was in his thirties and going through some personal problems. His wife at the time took off with the kids and didn’t leave a forwarding address,” Katherine explained. “He’d started drinking. One night he was with a bunch of friends and ran a red light. He avoided hitting another car, but lost control and totaled his car. His friend in the passenger seat died.”
Clark muttered under his breath. The story sounded too similar. His own car accident. The dead boy in the passenger seat. The blood. The guilt.
Enough. Swallowing, Clark focused on the road as he turned into the next street. He glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the SUV right behind them.
“Like I said, George’s been clean for over fifteen years. Believe me, he’s paid his price, did the time and relived every second of that day again and again.”
Clark nodded, not really listening now as he watched the rearview mirror. He’d bet a hundred-to-one the SUV was the same one that tried mowing him down the other day.
“Where to now?”
“You’re going to turn left again at the second light.”
Beside him, Katherine scanned through the music stations, skipping over a medley of classic, country and rock, as he pulled to a stop at a red light. When the light changed, he turned left, all the while keeping an eye on the SUV. The vehicle continued to follow.
“Damn it!”
“What’s wrong?”
Katherine pulled away from the radio. A Bon Jovi song broke into the interior of the Mazda. The rock music drummed through the speakers and across the dashboard to vibrate under Clark’s hands locked around the steering wheel. The singer’s wail crawled across his skin.
Eyes narrowed, jaw clenched, Clark watched in the mirror. The wild beat of the music matched the pounding of his heart. The SUV shadowed them.
“Someone’s following us.”
Chapter 25
“You can’t be serious!” Swiveling around, Katherine peered around her seat to look out the rear window.
“I wish I weren’t.”
“Which car?” Katherine shouted over the music.
“The SUV! Two car lengths down and to the right! I’m pretty sure it’s the same one that almost ran me over and caused the accident.”
An electric guitar, louder and harsher than before, melded with the loud crash of drums and blasted against Clark’s frayed nerves. Unable to take the noise anymore, Clark snapped off the radio. Immediate and deafening silence followed, somehow more nerve-wracking than the rock music.
“Not good. This is not good.”
Clark heard the alarm in Katherine’s voice. Damn it! He wanted to leap out of the car, grab the driver and strangle the bastard, but he curbed the wild urge. He wasn’t about to jeopardize Katherine’s life by chasing a possible killer with her nearby.
“Don’t worry,” he muttered, unable to sound calm. “No one’s going to touch you. They’ll have to get through me first.”
“I can’t see the driver.” Katherine twisted more in her seat. “The visor’s down and the sun’s glaring off the windshield.”
With his luck right now, Clark wasn’t surprised they couldn’t get a good look at the driver.
“What do you think we should do?” Katherine asked.
“Nothing.”
“But—˝
“But nothing. I’m not about to confront the person. If it’s the bastard that shot me, he’s liable to have a gun on him.”
“Maybe it’s not the gunman but someone my uncle hired to scare me. Uncle Paul might be following through on that threat he gave me. Maybe if we just talk to the person.” Clark sent her a look. “Okay. That was a stupid idea.”
“How about we do exactly as planned?” No way in hell was he going to let Katherine near this guy. “We’ll be safe in a crowded restaurant. Whoever’s in the car isn’t stupid enough to try anything in such a public place.”
But whoever drove the SUV had nearly run him down in a very public place. Then again, Clark didn’t want to think about that.
As he guided the Mazda into the restaurant’s lot and parked, he watched the SUV across the intersection. The other vehicle slowed and pulled into a metered parking spot on the adjacent road.
Damn it. The person in the SUV was like a stinking parasite.
The minute Clark stepped from the Mazda, he strode over to the passenger side, all the while keeping an eye on the SUV. Traffic moving from both sides of the street concealed any movement from inside or around the vehicle.
As Katherine slipped from the car, Clark stood, blocking her body from the street and the SUV. He wrapped an arm around her waist. She felt so small and delicate beside him. If anything happened to her because of him... Clark swallowed. He didn’t want to think about that either.
“Okay, Clark. You don’t have to plaster yourself on me! I’m quite capable of walking the few feet to the restaurant all on my own.”
“Yeah, I know—˝
But Clark didn’t take his arm from around her waist as they moved across the parking lot. Once in the restaurant, the loud monologue of a sportscaster carried over the laughter and drone of voices.
Strange how it seemed so damn normal in here when everything in his life was so damn abnormal.
Clark made a point of getting a table far enough from the window to ensure they weren’t visible targets but close enough to view any suspicious behavior from outside. From this vantage point, though, they couldn’t see the SUV.
After they shrugged out of their jackets and the hostess gave them their menus, Clark rose, “I’ll be right back.”
He didn’t wait for Katherine to voice a protest but left, weaving through the tables, striding past the lobby and snapping the front door open with a shoulder.
With Katherine safely inside, Clark intended to seize this opportunity. He wanted to end things. Now. He rounded the corner of the restaurant and looked across the street for the SUV.
Gone.
Swearing loudly, Clark curled his fingers into fists at his sides. The driver seemed as elusive as his memory. Talk about anti-climactic. He’d been more than ready for a confrontation.
Empty-handed, he retreated back to the restaurant. When he reached their table, Katherine looked up from her menu and frowned.
“Are you all right?”
“Yeah.” He sighed. “We can relax for now. Whoever was following us is gone.”
“That’s what you were doing?” Katherine regarded him with reproach. “Next time you run off like that, let me know? I thought we were working as a team.”
He didn’t answer, unable to give her that promise. From the flash in Katherine’s brown eyes, she noticed it too. But Clark didn’t want to burden her with more problems, not when he suspected she was shouldering enough of her own. Last night she’d tossed and turned, moaning in her sleep. Clark knew her nightmares didn’t involve Miltronics or her uncle but someone else.
“Who’s Miranda?”
Katherine tightened her hold on her menu as she lowered it to the table. If he’d shocked her, it didn’t show in her eyes or face.
“Miranda?”
“You cried out her name last night. I was about to wake you but thought better of it.”
When the waiter came and left with their order, Clark persisted. “So who is she?”
Katherine made a sound at the back of her throat. “She was my best friend—˝
“Was? What happened to her?”
Her harsh, derisive laugh was far from reassuring. “I don’t want to bore you with the details.”
“Impossible. Everything about you matters. I want to know.”
Katherine ran a hand back and forth against the table’s edge in obvious agitation. “She died of a drug overdose.”
“I’m sorry. When did it happen?”
“Seven years ago. We went to university together.”
For some reason, Clark had thought her friend’s death had happened months ago and not years. “So you were very close?”
“In the beginning.” Katherine glanced up and met his gaze, but Clark suspected she saw only the past. “Miranda was on scholarship. She was from a broken home who had little money and even less love. How do I describe her? Sensitive. Smart. And what a crazy sense of humor. Miranda always managed to make me smile, no matter how bad my day was. You wouldn’t think it, but underneath, she had such a big heart. I really admired her. She wanted to become a writer...”
“Then what happened?”
“She started hanging out with a crowd that had more money than sense. All the privilege, glamour and wealth these guys had completely seduced her. They didn’t care about her. To them, Miranda was a good time and an easy lay.” Her voice thickened with loathing, and her lip curled to one side. “My so-called boyfriend and soon-to-be lawyer was one of those ‘guys.’”
Duplicity--A Tale of Murder, Mystery and Romance Page 20