Fear crashed through Danielle’s stomach, nearly stealing her breath.

Yet for the first time in well over a year, she wasn’t alone. She had someone she could ask for help. But she wasn’t very good at doing that, either.

God, if it’s safe to let Nate in, please show me.

It seemed that the more she prayed for peace, the more her life spun out of control. The spying eyes. The jimmied lock. The butterflies that Nate caused.

She’d come to Crescent City to run away from her father’s death. But she hadn’t counted on a whole new set of problems.

Nate was nearly to his car, and she had to make a decision.

“Wait!” She jogged over to him. “On Tuesday I thought someone was following me home. I’m afraid they might try again tonight.” His face turned stony. “Would you mind just following me to make sure no one else is behind me?”

She’d barely closed her mouth before he agreed. “I’ll be right behind you.”

LIZ JOHNSON

After graduating from Northern Arizona University in Flagstaff with a degree in public relations, Liz Johnson set out to work in the Christian publishing industry, which was her lifelong dream. In 2006 she got her wish when she accepted a publicity position at a major trade book publisher. While working as a publicist in the industry, she decided to pursue her other dream—being an author. Along the way to having her novel published, she wrote articles for several magazines.

Liz lives in Colorado Springs, Colorado, where she enjoys theater, ice skating, volunteering in her church’s bookstore and making frequent trips to Arizona to dote on her nephew and three nieces. She loves stories of true love with happy endings. Visit her online at www.lizjohnsonbooks.com.

Vanishing Act
Liz Johnson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

“For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline.”

—2 Timothy 1:7

To Julia, Rachel, Caleb, Emily, and Jacob, I count myself blessed beyond measure to be your aunt. May our family leave a legacy that you are proud to carry on, one of grace, hope and love.

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

LETTER TO READER

DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

PROLOGUE

A car parked at least a block away backfired loudly, making Nora James huddle against the car door. Alone inside the car, she wrapped her arms around her stomach and leaned closer to the tinted window of the Lincoln Town Car, searching for any sign of the events unfolding in the dark alley. But night surrounded the car, cloaking the men she knew lined the brick buildings on each side of the narrow street.

Twisting her long ponytail behind her shoulder, she pressed her ear against the window, hoping for a voice she recognized. Cars sped over the bridge, crossing the nearby Willamette River, but everything else was silent.

No birds chirping. No people talking or strolling along the river. Not even the soft tinkling of evening rain, strange for the time of year. Eerily silent.

Suddenly the door on the opposite side of the bench seat jerked open, and a large man filled the opening. The car’s dome light spread an ethereal glow over his menacing sneer. His shoulders stretched his Italian suit jacket, and his hair was slicked back with something the consistency of motor oil. He made an imposing figure, but Nora was surprisingly glad to see a face that she recognized.

It was neither friendly nor safe, but it was familiar. And she had dearly missed anything familiar since being forced into a nondescript, white van three days earlier.

It had all been so cliché. Walking to the home that she shared with her dad from her final class of the day, she had lifted her face to the warmth of the sun, a rarity in the usually cloudy Portland climate. Lost in thoughts of her upcoming college graduation, she’d ignored the world around her.

That day it had been far from silent. Couples walking down the sidewalk, chatting vibrantly to each other. Cars flying by. The subdued chime of bicycle bells.

But then the world tilted on its axis. The screeching tires of the white van immediately signaled that something was amiss, and the men who jumped from the open sliding door moved like lightning. Both linebacker types and dressed in black, they easily subdued Nora, throwing her onto the floor of the van and slamming the door closed as the vehicle jerked forward.

For three days her life had consisted of a dark room, a flat mattress on a cement floor and the man who now leaned in toward her. Lurch. At least, that’s what she’d nicknamed him in her mind the first time he brought her a glass of water. He didn’t really resemble the character from one of her favorite childhood television shows, but when she and her dad started watching the old reruns together, the original Lurch had frightened her, too.

“Ms. James?” Lurch asked quietly in the same voice he always used with her.

“Yes?”

He cleared his throat, covering his mouth with his hand. His bushy, brown eyebrows pinched together, not unlike an expression her academic advisor frequently made.

Involuntarily she leaned a little bit closer to him, willing him to tell her what was going on. In three days no one had uttered a word about why she had been taken. No one said anything about where she was or what they intended to do to her. Or why they needed her alive.

She’d decided on the first day that if they didn’t need her alive, they would have taken her out of the picture.

Immediately.

The men she glimpsed were hard, with glowering faces and wicked-looking weapons. The kind of men who dispatched unwanted, unneeded women without a second thought.

“It’s going to be a few more minutes,” Lurch interrupted her thoughts. “He’s not here yet.”

“Who? Who are we waiting for?”

Lurch looked confused but didn’t answer as he closed the door behind him.

And Nora was plunged into darkness again.

Her head spun and her eyes watered. She felt drugged.

Maybe she was drugged.

“God, a little help here, please?” she pleaded. “I know I haven’t been praying nearly as I much as I should, but I have been a little distracted with trying to escape. Of course, You know all this. And You know what’s going on outside, and I sure don’t.” She sighed. “So whatever happens, could You take care of me? And Dad, too. Please don’t let him worry about me too much.” A bit of a futile prayer, as her dad was a world-class worrier, but it never hurt to ask.

Just then headlights flashed into the alley, splashing light along the brick buildings then illuminating the interior of the Town Car. Nora blinked against the brightness, holding her forearm up to her eyes.

A door from the other car slammed, but the lights stayed on.

“Where is she?” demanded a voice she’d know anywhere.

She yanked on the handle, pushing hard on the door, trying again to open it without luck. “Dad! I’m in here! Can you hear me?” she screamed into the window. “Dad! I’m right here!”

“Nora! Nora, I’m here!”

She slammed into the door again. “Dad! I’m in the car!”

A silky voice called out, “Enough.”

When he spoke again, her father’s voice sounded as though he had turned to face the far side of the alley. “Goodwill, I’m here. Let her go.” Her dad’s voice was stronger than usual, out of character for the quiet accountant.

She could almost picture him in his green sweater-vest and white, collared shirt. The last time she’d seen him, he was wearing a hideous orange tie under the vest, and his hair was in complete disarray, brown spikes sticking up all over. Her father certainly didn’t have the best fashion sense, but she couldn’t love him more if he dressed like David Beckham.

Nora pounded her fist once against the window again, the knock echoing inside the car, then stopped when she realized the conversation in the alley disappeared beneath the sound. She’d never be able to hear her father’s voice if she kept banging. Sagging against the door, she once more strained to hear the voices on the other side.

“Good evening, Parker. So glad you could join us.” That voice was deep and smooth as satin. Its very sound seemed to vibrate the windows, making Nora pull back slightly from her position hovering over the door handle.

“Goodwill, I’m the one that you want. Let Nora go. Please.” Her father’s voice shook on the last word. Something she’d never heard before.

“Not until I get what I want.”

“Fine! I’ll do it. I’ll take care of everything. No one will be able to trace the money back to you. But this is the last time. No more.”

What was her dad talking about? Was he laundering money for the men who kidnapped her? Why would he put them both in danger like this?

“I’ll decide when you’re finished.”

“No—” her dad began.

“I think I’ve proven that you don’t want to be on my bad side. Do what I say and you and your daughter are safe. Don’t, and you’ll see what a mess that can be.” Goodwill said something more, but he must have turned away because his voice was muffled. She couldn’t make out a word of it.

Suddenly the car door, which had been her support, jerked open and one of Lurch’s comrades grabbed her upper arm, yanking her to her feet. Nora stumbled, gasped, then gagged on the awful stench that filled the alley. Moonlight illuminated rows of Dumpsters overflowing with rotting food particles and what smelled like animal waste.

She covered her nose and mouth with her free hand as the thug jerked her toward the front of the car and into the stream of light.

And there was her father, looking battered and emotionally bruised. Purple shadows swelled beneath his eyes and his cheeks sunk into his mouth. Bloodshot eyes swept eagerly over her from head to toe, certainly searching for any injuries.

“Dad, are you okay?” she asked, disappointed when her voice came out a scratchy whisper.

“I’m fine. I’m just so sorry that I got us mixed up in this.”

Barely three feet away from him, Nora could stand the distance no longer and lunged at him, ripping her arm from her captor’s hand and throwing herself into her father’s waiting embrace. He held her close and smoothed her matted, blond hair down her shoulders.

“Well, isn’t this reunion sweet?” The words dripped with sarcasm, and Nora had no doubt that they came from the man her father had called Goodwill. She had yet to actually set eyes on the man, but her father squeezed her closer, impeding her attempt to turn and face the menacing man.

“Listen to me closely, Nora,” he whispered into her ear so low that she had to strain to make out the words. “I don’t think this is going to go the way that I want it to. If something happens to me, I want you to get out of here. Go to the apartment and get the money that’s stashed in my sock drawer and—”

“But, Dad. I won’t leave you.”

“Yes, you will.” His voice was low and fierce, almost a growl. “Get the money and get out of town. Get rid of your cell phone and don’t leave any traces. You’ll never be safe here. Please just go.”

“But how will you find me?”

“I won’t.”

Tears sprang to her eyes as her father pushed her away, stepping toward the two men behind her.

One of the men was Lurch. The other she’d never seen before. He was immensely attractive with features so handsome they bordered on beautiful. Graceful cheekbones that flowed into a round chin. Perfectly arched nose. Every strand of blond hair perfectly gelled into place and piercing blue eyes as cold as ice. His gaze locked on to Nora’s as she took an involuntary step back.

“I trust my staff has kept you comfortable, Ms. James.” His voice as smooth as his appearance, Nora was certain that she was being addressed by Goodwill, but she still had no idea who he was.

Other than that he had obviously had her kidnapped.

“I’m here. I’ll do whatever you want. Now let Nora go,” her dad said in a quiet yet firm tone.

Goodwill put his finger on his chin and tapped it as though deep in thought, but his eyes remained cold. Hard. “I think not yet. After all, we’ll need a little leverage if you decided to suddenly change your mind. What if you decided to turn state’s evidence? What kind of businessman would I be if I had already let my leverage go. No, the girl stays with us until the job is done.”

“No!” Her dad lunged forward, his hands balled into fists, his entire body shaking wildly. He seemed childlike in size compared to Goodwill, but he held nothing back as he slammed into the other man. Goodwill barely shuffled his feet at the impact, then stepped to the side as the flailing man stumbled to the ground.

Suddenly the thug, who had pulled Nora from the car, appeared at Goodwill’s side, aiming a large black gun at her father. Her dad’s face fell as he stared up at the barrel.

“Don’t!” she cried, taking a quick step toward the trio, stopping only when the gun suddenly swiveled and leveled directly at her chest.

“I think it would be wise for you stay put.” Goodwill’s voice was like iron.

Nora looked into the tortured face of her father. “I’m so sorry, Baby,” he whispered. Still leaning on the ground, his weight supported by one elbow, he said very clearly, “I wonder why there’s no rain tonight.”

The commotion was immediate. Goodwill shouted, “Check him for a bug!” The oaf with the gun kicked her dad in the stomach, and he grunted loudly. Suddenly the gun exploded, the flash from the muzzle surprisingly brilliant in the darkness of the alley, illuminating the red stain immediately seeping into his sweater vest.

Nora dove behind the open door of her dad’s car, landing half on the driver’s seat and smashing one knee into the dashboard.

“Get the girl!” Goodwill roared. The goon did as he was told, running toward her.

She had no time to think about her actions, and moved purely out of self-preservation. She turned the keys, sending up a prayer of thankfulness that he’d left them in the ignition. Yanking her other leg into the car, she shifted into Reverse and punched the accelerator. The old sedan, one door still open, flew down the alley away from the man with the gun. Away from the stream of Goodwill’s curses.

Away from her father’s lifeless body.

She rammed into a large, metal Dumpster before yanking the steering wheel and spinning around to drive forward. A quick glance in the rearview mirror was all she managed before her back windshield shattered with a crack.

She ducked low, keeping her foot on the gas.

ONE

Eighteen months later

Nathan Andersen needed a nap. Badly.

He yawned for the millionth time, fighting eyelids that threatened to close even as his car swerved down the highway at midnight. A sudden tremor against his leg nearly sent him through the roof, and he dove into his pocket for his cell phone.

“Agent Andersen.”

“Hey, Boss.”

“Someone’s burning the midnight oil,” he said, chuckling. “Have you left the office yet, Heather?”

Her long pause answered his question. “You asked me to call if we heard anything else from Roth about Nora and your assignment.”

“Yes. What’d he say? Did he overhear another phone call with more details?” The FBI mole’s first tip was trusted enough to put Nate on the road to Crescent City. What he learned next could make or break the assignment.

“Not exactly. It was more of a confirmation of what he already told us. Roth said that he heard Goodwill—” whose lawyer had gotten him out on bail a couple months before “—on the phone with the Shadow.” Both agents remained silent for a moment. For years the Shadow’s name meant nothing but disappointment to the FBI. He was probably the best assassin in recent history, and the file on him was filled only with death certificates of his victims.

No names—pseudonyms or real. No pictures. No physical description. No location. Nothing to help them find him.

Heather cleared her throat and continued. “Roth said that he heard Goodwill confirming with the Shadow that he arrived in Crescent City and he was sure that Nora James was there. He said something about the community college, but Roth wasn’t sure what was going on.”

Nate’s breathing quickened. He had to find her first, or it could spell the end of their case. “Did he say if the plan had changed?”

“Roth didn’t hear anything about a change. As far as we know, the idea is still for the Shadow to kidnap Nora and hold her until Goodwill’s trial is over. What are you going to do?”

Nate grunted. “If Goodwill’s plan hasn’t changed, then neither has mine.” Another jaw-stretching yawn caught him off guard, and he mumbled an apology. Hitting the speaker button on his phone, he tossed it into the center console. Using his now-free hand to search for something that might help him fight off sleep, he grabbed for the coffee cup sitting next to his phone. Scowling when he realized it was empty, he chucked it at the opposite floorboard and rooted around the passenger seat for the bag of sunflower seeds he’d stashed there hours earlier.

“Do you really think Nora is in Crescent City?” Heather sounded unconvinced. “I know Roth doesn’t have any reason to mislead us, but she took off a year and half ago. She could be anywhere by now. How can we be sure Goodwill tracked her to a tiny little town no one’s ever heard of?”

Nate shoved a handful of seeds into his mouth and tried to talk around them. “I don’t know how he found her, but he’s got no reason to lie to Roth about hiring the Shadow to kidnap her and hold her as blackmail again. Goodwill will do anything to stay out of jail and he knows the evidence we have against him could put him away for life.”

Red taillights flashed down the road, sending Nate back to the night in the alley that his years of investigation into Phil Goodwill’s crime syndicate had led to. That night hadn’t ended well, especially when Parker James, Nate’s key witness and the master of Goodwill’s perfectly manufactured monetary fronts had been shot.

His arm twitched, jerking him back to the present at the same time that Heather asked, “Do you really think that Goodwill will try to kidnap Nora again? Especially since she didn’t know anything about her father’s involvement with the crime ring?”

Nate laughed out loud. “You’d think he’d have learned his lesson last time. In seven years with the Bureau, I’ve never seen anyone turn as fast as Parker did when his daughter was kidnapped. He couldn’t wait to turn over state’s evidence to get Goodwill behind bars. He practically taped that wire on himself before going into the alley.”

Nate shook his head at the memory of the agitated and jerky accountant so focused on rescuing his daughter. Now Nate had a job to do. One that could clinch his case against one of the biggest criminals in the Portland area. He couldn’t afford to let the guy back out on the street for good.

And to keep that from happening, he had to focus on his two witnesses. Both in danger. One in immediate peril.

“Will you keep an eye on the old man while I’m out of town? Just check in on him from time to time.”

“Sure thing, Boss. Is there anything I should tell him?”

Nate chewed on his lip for a moment, instinctively reaching for the coffee cup before remembering it was empty. “Don’t tell him I’m going after Nora. He doesn’t need to know that Goodwill’s last-ditch plan for freedom is kidnapping his daughter. Again.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t want Parker even thinking that he might not testify at the trial. His testimony rounds out this case perfectly. I’ll find Nora and get her to the safe house. I won’t let Goodwill intimidate the old man by threatening Nora.”

Heather yawned loudly on the other end of the line. “Oh, sorry. Guess it’s getting late here, too.” Her definition of late was a little different than his.

“Go home—get some rest. Check in with me as soon as you hear anything else from Roth.”

“Will do. Good night, sir.”

“Good night,” he said around his own yawn. Fighting the urge to let his eyelids drop, he refocused on the red dots ahead growing ever closer and mentally grasped for a plan to find the girl in Crescent City. He had to find her before catastrophe struck.

He didn’t have a recent picture of her, so his only point of reference was her father’s description and a list of her favorite activities. Church, work, school and riding bicycles—not much to go on. She had friends in each activity, but Parker had been adamant that she just hadn’t had time for much else. Her master’s program really took up almost all of her spare time.

But at least it was a place to start.

Nate spied the large wooden shaft sitting in the middle of the road much too late. When his sedan smashed into it, a hideous scraping vibrated along the underside of his car.

A hundred feet down the road, just as he passed a large white sign with blue letters welcoming him to Crescent City, Colorado, population 26,714, smoke appeared in his rearview mirror. White and airy at first, it quickly began to darken.

“Just great,” he mumbled, pulling off the highway and into a little service station. “Nice going, Andersen.”

He parked the smoking vehicle—a Bureau-issued, undercover, black sedan—and got out to take a look around. The station was locked up tight with a little sign tucked into the front window. The red arms on the paper clock indicated the shop would open up at seven-thirty the next morning. He glanced at his watch; only a couple hours away.

The lights of the city didn’t really begin for about half a mile or so. It wasn’t worth it to walk that far looking for a hotel for only two hours of sleep. He’d get more rest in his car.

He reclined the back of the seat, cracked the window, crossed his arms over his chest and fell into peaceful oblivion.

Danielle Keating squinted at the black sedan parked in front of Andy’s Auto Shop. She hiked her coverall bottoms up at her waist before slipping one arm into its sleeve. The gray tank top she usually wore underneath was clean, so she wasn’t in too much of a hurry to cover it up. Besides, the early morning sun made her simmer when zipped inside the full-body jumpsuit.

With the arm that was still free of the blue sleeve, she shaded her eyes and peered closely into the car’s window. Backseat empty. Front seat em—

Whoa!

She jumped back just as the driver’s side door flung open, and a dark-haired man with bloodshot eyes stepped out. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms and nodded at her. He ran his tongue over his teeth and yawned but didn’t speak.

He squinted in the glare, but she could tell by the slow up-and-down movement of his blue-gray eyes that he was appraising her. It sent shivers up her back, and she quickly shoved her bare arm into its sleeve.

Just because she didn’t like being assessed, didn’t mean she would back down. Doing her best to maintain eye contact, she leaned a little closer. She waited for him to speak, but he seemed in no hurry. He pushed his large hands into the pockets of his wrinkled khaki pants and jingled keys or loose change there. His broad shoulders stretched the blue cotton of his polo shirt, and he stood somehow both relaxed and erect, leaning against the side of the car.

Finally she could handle the silence no longer. “Having car trouble? Or just needed a place to park?”

He squinted again, this time lifting the corners of his mouth in a half smile, his face suddenly coming alive. “Car trouble. I hit something in the road about a quarter mile back, and then I saw smoke in my rearview…so I pulled over.”

“Good thing you did.” She nodded, not taking her eyes off of him.

“When does the mechanic get in? I’d like to get it looked at right away so that I can get home.”

Danielle’s smile faltered for a moment, but she quickly plastered it back into place. Why did men always assume that she was the front-counter help? “She’s here now and is happy to take a look. Pop the hood.”

The tall man’s ears flushed red in appropriate contrition beneath his closely trimmed brown hair, and she took a measure of pride in his shame. He opened his mouth, then seemed to think better of it and hopped back into the car, bending forward to pull the hood release.

Danielle lifted the hood and propped it open, leaning into the shadow. She felt, rather than saw, him move to stand next to her, his body radiating warmth in the already oppressive heat of the unusually mild September. She took a step away, trying to keep her jittery nerves under control. He wasn’t necessarily a threat to her. He probably had no idea who she was. Why would he?

Shooting him a sideways glance through narrowed eyes, she sucked in a quick breath before lifting the radiator cap, revealing a normal amount of fluid. The oil dipstick showed normal levels, too.

“Hmm. It’s probably your transmission fluid. Let me check.”

He shook his head as she shimmied under the car. “But it was running fine.”

Sure enough, the pan was leaking copious amounts of dark fluid. “Yeah, you probably hit something that cracked your pan and left your transmission to fend for itself. Hang on.”

She scooted out from under the car and turned on her side, peering all the way up at his face. He looked slightly perplexed, but reached out a hand to help her to her feet. She hesitated for a moment before letting him dwarf her hand in his much larger one. His tug gentle yet firm, she immediately found herself on her feet, toe-to-toe and far too close for comfort.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, taking a few quick steps backward.

“You’re welcome.”

Her eyes sought his again, even though she wasn’t sure what she was looking for there. His smile was gone, replaced by exhaustion. “Did you sleep in your car, Mr….?” Her voice trailed off, as she chided herself for not asking his name before.

“Andersen. Mr. Andersen.”

In her mind she replayed the line from The Matrix in a menacing tone and barely managed to keep from laughing out loud.

“Danielle,” she said, holding out her hand to shake his. He nodded, looking even more tired than before. “It’s going to take me a little while to check out your car more completely and make sure there’s nothing else going on with it. Help me push it into the garage, and then you can sit down in the waiting room. We’re not usually busy on Tuesday mornings, so you might even be able to get a little sleep.”

“Thanks,” he said as he leaned into the car again and slipped the automatic into neutral. She couldn’t help but notice the messy passenger seat, which seemed inconsistent with the man. While he had tousled hair and more than a five-o’clock shadow growing on his chin, he seemed mostly put together—or would have if he hadn’t slept in his car. She’d seen all sorts of cars and their owners since starting at the shop more than a year before. Usually the single guys in ripped T-shirts and stained jeans trashed their cars, not the men with desk jobs and khakis.

“Ready?”

“Huh?” His voice jerked her from her thoughts. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

Together they pushed the sedan to the garage door, which Danielle quickly unlocked and raised. When the car was settled over the in-floor pit, Mr. Andersen disappeared into the waiting room, and Danielle set to work, glancing every couple of minutes at his slumped form. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting him to do, but as long as they were alone together in the garage, she wanted to know where he was.

Nate snorted loudly, effectively ripping himself from the light doze he enjoyed on the hard plastic chair in Andy’s Auto Shop waiting room. Leaving his chin resting against his chest, he rubbed the back of his neck with both hands and squeezed his elbows together. The stretch of his arms and shoulders felt wonderful after being cooped up in the car for so long.

He blinked once, his eyes scraping the tender flesh of his eyelids, and groaned loudly. He rubbed both hands over his face. Two-day-old beard rasped against his palms, and he shook his head slightly and closed his eyes again to let them gain some of the moisture they’d lost during the long night.

He definitely wasn’t twenty-five anymore. When he first started with the Bureau, all-nighters and long-term stakeouts were a snap. Even with only stale Funyuns and massive amounts of Yoo-hoo to drink, he’d been alert and thoughtful, great at his job.

At almost thirty-five he had to admit—even just to himself—that he needed to take better care of his body. Especially if his immediate response to a lack of sleep was snoring in a waiting room, even though he should have been on the job. No more all-nighters. It was just that easy. That is, unless his job required it. He’d take better care of himself, but he’d do whatever the job required. Over the last several years as the special agent in charge of the Portland office, Nate did whatever it took to complete the assignment.

He sighed into his hands and blanched at the acrid smell of his own morning breath. He felt his pockets for a stick of gum, but remembered that he’d left the pack in the center console of his car—which he saw through the window was being worked on by the pretty, young mechanic who stood holding a light deep under the hood.

He’d seen plenty of women mechanics in his life but never one quite so cute. That was really the only word to describe her slightly rounded face and innocent brown eyes. Brown hair bobbed around her shoulders and she pushed her bangs out of her eyes as she shifted the light to her other hand and used a wrench to loosen a bolt.

Suddenly she dropped her arms and locked eyes with him. Through the window he felt the intensity of her stare as though she had caught him doing something wrong. He held her gaze for a moment, until she let her eyes fall down and the moment was gone. Not sure exactly what had been lost, Nate decided to put it aside and focus on finding a mint or stick of gum. Eventually he’d have to talk with the woman—she’d said her name was Danielle—and when he did, he didn’t want it to be an altogether unpleasant experience for the both of them.

He walked across the small room to the service counter. The chair behind it was empty even though a glance at his watch told him it was nearly eight-thirty. Someone was running late.

Peeking his head over the counter, he spied a small plastic bowl of candy. Just as his fingers wrapped around a plastic-wrapped peppermint, the main door of the office opened with an obnoxious squeak.

“We don’t keep any money back there, Mister.”

Nate spun around to face a rather short woman flanked by silver crutches that looked to be several inches too tall for her, causing her arms to stick out at odd angles.

Dramatically contrite for being caught red-handed, Nate hung his head slightly and held up both hands, pinching the mint between his thumb and forefinger. “I was just looking for a mint. Morning breath.”

“Oh.” The middle-aged woman shrugged and hobbled across the slick tile floor, the rubber tips of her crutches slipping with each step. She glanced toward the window where Danielle closed the hood of his car then wiped her hands on a greasy rag as she stepped through the door connecting the garage and the waiting room. “Better pop that in before Danielle gets in here. She hates morning breath.”

Nate let out a chuckle, not quite sure if the woman was teasing him or if Danielle really did have a vendetta against bad breath. Figuring his first instinct was definitely right, he quickly unwrapped it and popped the fresh-tasting candy into his mouth in the nick of time.

“Well, Mr. Andersen, it looks like you cracked your transmission pan, but that’s all. It’ll only cost a couple hundred bucks to replace it, but I don’t have a spare part in the garage. I’ll have to order it, and it could be a few days. I’m sorry.” Danielle’s face filled with compassion at the same time he could feel a frown spreading across his face.

He jabbed his hand through his cropped hair. This was definitely not part of the plan, but he didn’t have any choice but to take it in stride. Try to be flexible. Admittedly not his strongest trait.

He could call a regional bureau office. They could get him a replacement car within a day. They would also draw completely unnecessary attention to him, possibly jeopardizing his ability to get the job done under the radar.

Pushing the candy into his cheek, he sighed. “Okay. I guess this town isn’t that big anyway. I can walk wherever I need to go until it’s fixed. Do you have a shuttle that could drop me off at my apartment?”

Nate followed Danielle’s glance over his shoulder to the receptionist noisily settling into her chair behind the counter. “Gretchen?” A lilt in her tone changed Danielle’s question into pleading.

The other woman held up her hands. “No can do. Jimmy dropped me off this morning. I can’t do any driving until my ankle heals. Doctor’s orders.” She paused for a moment, obviously assessing Nate from head to toe. “But I’ll watch the garage until you get back.”

“Thanks,” Danielle said, in a tone that indicated she meant anything but. With a nod toward the exit she continued, “Come on, then. I’ll take you wherever you need to go.”

Nate quickly followed, waving his thanks at Gretchen. “I just need to grab my bag out of my car.” He hurried to retrieve the nondescript, black duffel bag from the backseat. Running his fingers over the side pocket, he confirmed that the file with his assignment information was still tucked safely inside, then he walked out through the raised garage door.

Danielle pulled a beat-up truck with the Andy’s Auto logo on the door to a stop next to him, and he hopped in. “Thanks for dropping me off.”

“No problem. Where is it?”

“The Eagle’s Den apartments. Do you know where that is?”

“Sure.”

She kept both hands—delicate, fair-skinned hands that looked like they had no business working on cars—on the wheel as she expertly maneuvered through the side streets to arrive at the apartment complex. He had selected them specifically because they offered clean, furnished apartments. Nate calculated how much attention it would draw, and the Eagle’s Den had passed his preliminary inspection. The apartment would do nicely—but not too nicely.

After several minutes, the silence seemed a bit awkward. “So how long have you worked at the garage?” Nate said finally.

“Awhile.” Then, as though she thought he was fishing for her credentials, she added, “Long enough to be good at my job.”

“So you like it.”

She shrugged, keeping her eyes straight ahead. “Sure. Andy and Gretchen are great.”

Suddenly she whipped around a corner and they were at the front office of the complex.

“You can drop me here,” he said.

“Are you sure?”

Truthfully he didn’t know which apartment was his yet. It was his first trip there, so he had no idea where to direct her. “Definitely. No problem.” He scooted out of the cab and handed her a slip of paper. “My phone number. So you can call me when the car is done.”

“Thanks.” She flapped the paper in agreement before accelerating out of the parking lot.

Nate chuckled. She was one strange girl. Evasive with every answer. Obviously a pro under the hood. And adorable as could be.

After checking in at the office and finding his new, temporary home, he sank down onto the dark brown couch in his living room. Flipping open his phone and the assignment folder at the same time, he speed-dialed the number 9, and a familiar voice immediately sounded on the other end of the line.

“Andersen. What’s your status?” Mitch Hollingsworth, his supervisor, asked.

“Just got to my apartment. My car broke down just outside of Crescent City, but I’m here now. The car’ll be fixed in a couple days.”

“What are you going to do until then?”

“I’m going to enroll in the community college. Our guy on the inside said that the Shadow has been snooping around the campus. He’s obviously a step ahead right now, and I can’t afford not to know what he knows. It’s the biggest entity in town, so most of the grapevines will run through there. I’m bound to pick up something that either leads me to the Shadow or Nora.” He scrubbed a weary hand across his face. “I’m also going to try to find the church she attends and see what’s going on there. I’ll check into bike clubs and such. It’s not that big of a town so it can’t be that hard to find the girl.”

Mitch sighed. “Parker James could be the most important witness the state has ever had against Goodwill. His daughter has to be found.”

“I know, sir.” Nate felt the weight of reality settle once again on his shoulders. He knew the gravity of the situation. They’d already lost one man to a stray bullet in pursuit of Goodwill’s conviction in that dark alley a-year-and-a-half before.

Mitch exhaled and said exactly what Nate already knew to be true. “If you don’t find the James girl and the Shadow, he’ll make sure Parker won’t testify against him. Ever.”

TWO

The phone in her kitchen rang obnoxiously as Danielle heaved two bags of groceries on the counter. “Hello?” she panted into the receiver.

“Danielle, it’s Andy.”

She almost returned the smile she always heard from her boss through the phone line, but this time his voice was quiet, sad. Andy McDougal’s typically exuberant self didn’t produce a smile this morning.

“Is something wrong?”

“Well…” Andy’s voice trailed off, tattling that he was going to ask a favor. He never failed to start requests in the same way, but whatever he needed, she’d gladly offer it. “See, my mom’s had a fall. Broke her right wrist and sprained her ankle bad.”

“Oh, Andy. I’m so sorry to hear that.” Danielle had often wondered if Andy was still a bachelor at forty-seven because his mother needed him so often, and he never complained about dropping everything to travel two hundred miles to help her. “I’ll be happy to cover the shop for you if you need to go visit her.”

“Thanks. I knew I could count on you.”

“Anything you need. You know I’m here for you.” Andy had been her only family since she moved to Crescent City, and she had only loved one man on earth more.

Blinking furiously at the tears that sprung to her eyes at the sudden reminder of her own failure, she cleared her throat. Her cowardice had cost her her entire world.

She’d failed in the past, but not this time. Swiping at her eyes with the back of her hands one more time, she rubbed against the burning in her eyes. “Is there something else you need me to do while you’re out of town?”

Andy sighed softly and started another sentence. “Well…actually there is something else. You know how I’ve been teaching the Intro to Auto Shop class at the college?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Andy left work at four-fifteen every Tuesday and Thursday for the last two weeks to teach at the Crescent City Community College. She knew firsthand that he was a great teacher, but what could it possibly have to do with her?

“While I’m with my mom, there’s no one at the college to cover the class, so I was wondering if you might be able to fill in for me. You could close the shop early, and it should only be for a couple a weeks. Just four classes or so.”

“Oh.” It was the only sound that Danielle could manage in her shocked state. Andy knew her better than anyone. After all, it was Andy who gave her a place to live and a job, teaching her how to be a mechanic when she’d had to start over. He knew just how long it had taken her to open up to him, to get comfortable talking with him.

She hated talking in front of people. Hated being the center of attention. What if someone recognized her? What if someone knew her past? Knew that she’d left her father to die in an alley more than a year before?

Her life was all about blending into the crowd, matching the flowers on the walls. It had to be.

Teaching a class in the largest community in town, wasn’t blending. Not by any stretch of her imagination.

She hated letting him down, but she just couldn’t risk putting herself on display.

She’d had dreams of the gunman in the alley night after night when she first arrived in Crescent City. It had taken her months to realize that he probably wasn’t coming after her. Whatever Goodwill had wanted from her had died with her dad.

But what if she was wrong? What if there was someone out there still looking for her?

“Andy, I’m sorry. I just can’t.”

“Danielle, I know this isn’t easy for you, but I’m begging you. Please. There’s no one else even remotely qualified to fill in for me, and there’s no one else to look after Mom. I have to go.”

Taking a deep, calming breath, she said, “Let me think about it a little while. I’ll call you back.”

After hanging up, she plopped onto a kitchen chair and stared at the receiver in her hand. What could Andy possibly be thinking asking her to teach a class?

He was her best friend. Her only friend. And she really wanted to help him.

But it meant putting a big target on her back.

Hanging her head, so low that her chin rested on her chest and her brown locks fell in front of her face, she rubbed the ends between her fingers thinking about everything she’d done to disguise herself. The short hair, which she’d promptly dyed a deep chestnut color after leaving Portland. The colored contacts to cover her uniquely golden eyes. She’d even dropped about fifteen pounds.

That had been by accident, of course. Too much stress and she couldn’t eat.

She was barely recognizable as Nora Marie James—even to herself.

So why am I afraid that someone else will recognize me?

Deep in her heart she heard a voice telling her that she didn’t have to be afraid. She knew that voice, trusted it, but still… “God, if You want me to do this for Andy, You’ll have to give me the strength.”

As she fell silent, an inexplicable peace filled her heart, and she knew that she could do this for Andy—no matter the cost.

As Nate strolled the ten short blocks from his apartment to downtown Crescent City, brightly colored posters adorned the window of every barber shop and country store. He stopped to read one. Immediately a middle-aged man in an apron walked to the open door of his woodworking business.

Nodding to the vibrant poster, he asked, “You in a band? I hear they’re still looking for groups for the battle of the bands at the college.”

The other man’s eyes traveled up the road, and Nate’s gaze immediately followed. “Nope. Just curious about what’s going on.”

“There’s a big bulletin board up at the quad at the college. They post just about everything happening in town there.”

“Do you know if they’re still accepting students?”

The little man pointed a stubby finger at another flyer, which announced that college registration was still open, and community members were welcome to sign up for two more days.

If he weren’t consumed with the task before him, he would have liked to see what some of the other posters offered—theater, concerts and martial arts classes—but he didn’t have time for any of that. Crescent City wasn’t a vacation destination. Nora James was his sole reason for being here. He had to find her—and the Shadow.

Doubt flickered through his mind for a split second. What if Nora wasn’t here? What if this entire mission was a wild-goose chase?

He shook his head and tried to clear away his misgivings. He’d done exactly what he was supposed to. He’d followed the only tip they had. Better to send someone after the girl than let the Shadow have her without a fight.

“Thanks,” he said, waving to the man, as he headed farther into town.

As the special agent in charge of the Portland bureau office, Nate didn’t get much field time anymore, and he missed it. Most days overflowed with paperwork and bureaucratic meetings. The wind blowing in his face and the sound of his shoes clapping along the cement sidewalk built excitement in his soul as he picked up speed.

Nate shot up a quick prayer of thankfulness that he hadn’t had another field agent to send on the assignment. Myles Borden was on his honeymoon. Heather Sloan was stuck in the office following hip surgery. And Jack Spitz was stuck in a car on stakeout for another case he was working.

He lifted his face to the warm sun. Man, this felt good.

Torn from his thoughts by an annoying ring from his cell phone, he pulled it from the back pocket of his jeans. The display told him that it was coming from Heather’s cell phone. “What’s up?”

“Have you talked to Mitch yet?”

“We talked yesterday.”

She sighed audibly. “Okay. I just remembered that he called the office and wanted me to have you call him. I forgot to tell you.” She sounded a little sheepish.

“No problem.”

Silence reigned for several long seconds. What was making her so hesitant to speak?

“Heather, what going on?”

She sighed. “It’s Jack. He’s driving me nuts every time he’s in the office. When are you coming back?”

He laughed. Why did adults—moreover, adults with law degrees—insist on acting like kids? “I won’t be gone long. I figure I’ve got two weeks at the most. Longer than that, and I’ve lost her to the Shadow. And I’ve lost Parker, too.” But failure wasn’t an option in this case. “I’ll be home in ten days. Twelve, tops.”

The college buildings loomed large a couple blocks ahead. The big gray buildings seemed out of place among the quaint shops of downtown, but it was still the hub of the community. He needed to get connected and figure out what the Shadow knew that he didn’t.

“Hang in there, Sloan,” he offered in his best special-agent-in-charge voice. “I’m almost to the community college, and registration for classes is still open. I might as well see what courses are still open and get plugged in.”

“Sure thing.”

More than twenty students formed a line leading up to the window in the registrar’s office as Nate stepped into the line. Most of them fanned themselves with white and green forms.

“I can’t believe this crowd,” the teen girl in front of him complained to her friend, an equally young and blonde student.

“Seriously. The add/drop deadline isn’t until tomorrow. You’d think more people would wait ’til the last minute.”

Starting to get antsy after thirty minutes in line, he finally put his mind on the case and thought through the articles in the case file. It held exactly two pictures of Nora. One was a chubby ten-year-old with long blond hair and brilliant, golden hazel eyes. He bet she didn’t look a whole lot like that picture anymore. The other picture was from her driver’s license, taken at least ten years before. She had a round face and the same blond hair, just with slightly older features.

But the eyes were the same. He’d never seen that color before—like churning, molten gold with flecks of brown. Stunning.

The team had collected two pictures of her. That was all that were left after a house fire, or so he’d been told. Friends and extended family had been no help. Apparently Nora wasn’t a fan of being caught on film.

“Next.”

Nate looked in front of him, expecting the next person to step forward, but there was no one there. “Oh,” he jumped, hurrying toward the frowning woman behind the counter. “Good morning.” He smiled widely, but she refused to return it.

“Add or drop?”

“Excuse me?” Obviously there was a language to college that he didn’t remember. He’d lost a lot in the seven years since he was in law school.

The bushy-haired woman rolled her eyes at him. “Do you want to add a class or drop one?”

“Add one. What do you have open?”

She glared hard at him, the wrinkles around her eyes deepening. He smiled apologetically, but it didn’t seem to help, her voice gruff as she read from her computer screen, “Auto Mechanics 101. German 200. Math 72, 82 and 120.” She rattled off a few other options before saying, “The rest have prerequisites. If you have your transcript, I can approve you for the others. Otherwise, it’s too late for you to sign up for them.”

He shrugged, uncertain of which class to sign up for. None of these options really suited his academic background. But he reminded himself he wasn’t in it for the education. Sure, his J.D.—actually his bachelor’s or master’s—qualified him for most of the classes offered at CCCC. But he wasn’t in it for the education.

The lady on the other side of the desk strummed her fingers on the counter, her lips pursed unhappily.

He needed to make a decision.

Auto Mechanics 101? Danielle’s pretty face immediately popped to mind. It wasn’t very often he saw a cute mechanic, and there probably wouldn’t be anyone like her in the class. But it sounded pretty basic, and it could come in handy considering his recent car trouble. Plus it would be easier to talk to other students in the open forum rather than a typical lecture setting.

“Let’s do the auto shop class.”

Five minutes and one credit card swipe later, Nate was signed up for his first community college class that night. He just had time to get home, change clothes and grab a bite to eat before heading back for the class.

Danielle rubbed her forearms briskly through her light corduroy jacket. While it had been an unusually warm fall, a stiff breeze this evening brought a cold front and possible snow to the mountains according to the local weatherman. Hurrying toward the building that housed the auto shop, she prayed for courage.

“Lord, please give me Your strength.” Then silently she pleaded for safety. Being noticed was the first step to being recognized, and she couldn’t go back to her old life. Crescent City meant safety and anonymity, save the select few friends she’d made. But standing in front of a classroom took away that security.

But she’d promised Andy.

She clenched her fist to still the trembling before pushing at the large metal door with the number 102 stenciled above it. It squeaked loudly on its hinges.

Great way to sneak in and hope the students wouldn’t notice her right away. She’d been hoping for a couple more minutes to bolster her courage, but every eye in the room turned on her as her work boots clomped on the cement floor and she walked toward the teacher’s desk.

With one more silent plea for courage, she turned around and faced them. In her mind she had imagined them all scowling at her, but as she looked at the thirteen men and three women in the class, she saw mostly smiles and friendly nods.

These were her Crescent City neighbors, built of the same stock as Andy. They shared grocery stores and gas stations, and she had probably worked on their cars. They weren’t Goodwill’s men, or even from Portland. They didn’t know about her past. They didn’t know about her dad’s murder in the alley.

Just the thought of that night made her chest tighten and her heart speed up, but there was no time to dwell on the past or her part in letting her dad die.

Taking another deep breath and forcing a smile, she greeted them. “Hello. My name is Danielle. I’ll be filling in for Andy for a couple of weeks while he’s out of town.” More friendly nods, but no one spoke. “Andy said that you were discussing spark plugs. Can anyone tell me what you’ve talked about so far?”

A hand raised in the back row of tables, and she stepped to the side to get a better view of its owner. She pointed to him and opened her mouth to ask his name but stopped when her heart jumped.

“Mr. Andersen? What are you doing here?”

His smile showed off his perfectly straight teeth. “Call me Nate. Just enrolled today. Figured I’d better learn a little something about cars.” He chuckled, and Danielle couldn’t help the genuine smile that spread across her face at the contagious sound.

He had such a pleasant face, strong yet kind, tanned and handsome. And his eyes sparkled in the fluorescent lights.

Suddenly another student cleared his throat loudly, ripping her from her wayward thoughts. She had no right looking at a man that way. She had nothing to offer him. Nothing but constant fear from a past that always haunted her.

“Nate, I assume that you’re not going to answer my question.”

He nodded. “That’s right. Just wanted to see if I could borrow a book. The bookstore had to order me one.”

Another hand raised as well. This from a pretty blond woman sitting in the second row. “Me too. I just added this class yesterday, and the bookstore said it could be a couple of weeks before my book comes in.”

“I’m sure we have some books here. Anyone else?” Another young man raised his hand, as Danielle opened the metal cabinet behind the desk. After passing out the books, she opened the spiral-bound grade book that Andy had told her was in the top left desk drawer. “Can you give me your names?”

The woman, probably in her late thirties, spoke up first. “Ivey Platt. With two T’s.”

The young man announced that his name was Kirk Banner.

“All right. Let’s get started.” She flipped open her book and asked a twentysomething with brown hair, “What has Andy covered so far with you?”

“The name’s Ridley Grant.” He smiled and winked at her then prattled on about how much they’d covered in the first few classes.

The rest of the class seemed to pass in a blur. Danielle answered questions and covered the sections that Andy had outlined and left for her. The last thirty minutes were dedicated to hands-on learning, and the group gathered around Danielle as she showed them how to inspect and install new spark plugs. They looked at the old ones and discussed why they were no longer good. Several students—especially Nate—interacted in the discussion, and by the end of the two-hour class, Danielle felt surprisingly calm. Her hands were steady and her voice didn’t shake at all.

“Thanks, guys. Have a great night,” she said, dismissing them just a couple minutes early. Books slammed closed and stools scraped on the floor as the majority of the students made their way toward the door.

Busy packing up her own bag and locking up the cabinets, Danielle didn’t notice the approach of a couple of her students.

“Danielle?” asked a soft soprano.

She jumped and sucked in a breath so fast that she had to cough several times to clear her throat. “Ivey, you scared me.” She finally laughed.

The woman’s blue eyes crinkled at the corners and turned softer. “Sorry. I just had a quick question. Kirk can go first.” She nodded toward the younger man standing beside her.

Kirk Banner was a handsome, if very rumpled, man probably older than most of his cohorts but trying to look like them. His shaggy blond hair was in complete disarray, and his brown eyes were hard, almost angry. He shrugged boney shoulders that stretched the fabric of his too-tight red T-shirt. “I was just wondering how the grading is going to work.”

His tone was nonchalant, but Danielle could hear a flicker of antagonism somewhere below the surface.

“Well, of course Andy will give all the final grades. But I’ll be reporting to him on the assignments that are completed and the participation of each student in class.”

“Cool.” He shrugged again and sauntered away.

Through squinted eyes Danielle watched him leave, hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders hunched, and head thrown to the side in a cocky swagger. She couldn’t put her finger on any one reason, but he made her uncomfortable. She made a mental note not to be alone with him.

As she turned back to Ivey, she spied one other student in the back of the room still gathering his book. Nate’s smile was magnetic, and she found herself not at all afraid of maintaining eye contact with him. His smile reached into his eyes, kind and reassuring. Good job tonight, he mouthed.

Her pulse skittered and shivers ran down her arms.

How could one little compliment send her twittering like it did?

He nodded and turned to leave. “Oh, Mr. Andersen. Will you wait a moment please?” He nodded again, but didn’t move to join her and Ivey. As Danielle turned back to Ivey, the older woman was rearranging her face into the same friendly smile.

“Danielle, do you think I’m too far behind to catch up in this class?” Ivey’s perfect eyebrows pinched together, and her smile disappeared. “I’ve missed so much, but I just really want to get a better understanding of my car.” Her face fell slightly before she managed a quick half smile. “My husband used to take care of all of the car stuff. But he…well, he left me and the kids a couple months back.”

Danielle frowned slightly. Ivey was behind the rest of the class, but how could she turn down a woman so obviously hurting. “Well, you are a bit behind. But I could help you get caught up. Andy’s shop has been a little slow this week. Why don’t you stop by the garage tomorrow afternoon and we can look over the previous material?”

“Oh, thank you! That would be wonderful.” She smiled brightly again, grabbed her purse and left the room.

Nate stood by the table in the back of the room, leaning his hip against it, muscular arms crossed over his chest. “Have you ever taught before?”

“Nope. First time.”

He picked up his borrowed book. They walked toward the door and down the short hallway toward the parking lot. He opened the door for her to exit in front of him, and she couldn’t help returning his grin.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Oh!” Had she really forgotten that she needed to talk with him about his car? “I found the part for your car this afternoon. They had it at a warehouse just a couple hours away, so it got here faster than I thought. I have a light load at the shop, so I should have it done for you tomorrow morning. Come by any time after noon.”

“Thanks. I will.”

As they walked past the only car left in the parking lot, the hairs on the back of Danielle’s neck stood on end. She hugged herself tightly. She could feel someone’s eyes on her. Jerking her head from side to side, she hunted for a body, but couldn’t see anyone.

“Are you okay?” Nate asked, concern transforming his face. He gently put his hand on her elbow and warmth seeped up her arm.

“I’m fine. I just… Never mind.”

Worry etched lines onto his forehead. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Let me walk you to your truck, anyway.”

“I rode my bike,” she admitted.

“Huh?”

With her chin she pointed to the bicycle rack on the far edge of the parking lot. Out of the corner of her eye she scanned the shrubs and shadows for someone watching her. Was it someone from her past? One of the men who had killed her father on another dark night?

Nate let out a full-bodied laugh, tearing her from her innermost fear. “The auto mechanic rides a bike! Ha! That’s good.”

She shoved his shoulder playfully. “Don’t tease me.” Betrayed by her face as she tried to keep a frown in place, a smile crept onto her lips. “It helps me stay active, and it’s usually so beautiful out.”

Nate chuckled again as they moved toward the blue bike chained to the metal rack. She bent to unlock it. Just then a full-bodied shiver ran down her spine, and she jerked around, again trying to find the person watching her. But no one lurked in the shadows, and she couldn’t make out any forms in the bushes.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Nate asked again, his frown deeper this time.

She opened her mouth to confess her concern, but remembered that she barely knew the man. Just because he felt comfortable, didn’t make him safe. If Andy were home, she could call him to come get her. But if Andy were home, she wouldn’t be in the parking lot at the college about to ride her bike all the way home in the dark.

Looking up into Nate’s face, she realized that she hadn’t answered his question. “Yeah…I’m fine. Just got a shiver for a second.”

He nodded and crossed his arms over his chest, assuming she was referring to the wind. “It’s getting cold out here. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He patted her shoulder as she straddled the bike. As she peddled around the bend of the sidewalk, one quick glance over her shoulder confirmed that he was still watching her when she disappeared around the curve.

Biting wind chafed her cheeks as she peddled toward the main road. The sidewalks on the campus were dimly lit, so she picked up her speed, hurrying toward the bright street lights. The ride back to her house really only took fifteen minutes, but it felt like hours, each second spent looking over her shoulder, searching for those prying eyes.

The tangible gaze left her shoulders aching with invisible pin pricks as she sailed past a grocery store and a gas station. She thought about stopping. At least there would be other people around. If someone was really watching her, he was less likely to attack her in the midst of a crowd.

But if he had followed her from the college, then he probably wasn’t the type to just leave because she was with other people. More likely he’d just wait her out.

Not a thriving metropolis, most of Crescent City shut down by eighty-thirty. Her digital watch read 8:23, which meant the streets would be deserted in just minutes.

She had to hurry. Hunkering down against the wind, she pumped her legs as fast as they would go. Her hands burned from the cold and her knuckles were starkly white beside the black rubber on the handle bars.

The glowing clock on her microwave read 8:32 as she flew through the front door of her little apartment, slamming it behind her. The deadbolt clicked into place, and she hurried to the window, peering through the blinds into the gravel parking area next to Andy’s Auto Shop.

Empty. It was completely deserted.

Her racing heart started slowing down when she sank to the floor beside the little love seat in her living room. As the adrenaline drained from her system, her eyes drooped and her brain shut down.

“Lord, why am I suddenly so afraid?”

THREE

Nate woke with a groan, his neck and shoulders aching from the lumpy couch on which he was sprawled. He rotated his shoulders a couple of times and bent his neck from side to side to make sure that everything was in working order. He tried to focus on the contents of the folder spilled across the coffee table in front of him, but his eyes were blurry, and rubbing them didn’t seem to help.

“Coffee,” he grumbled, as he pushed himself up toward the mini kitchen. “Must have coffee.”

He considered drinking the dregs in the bottom of the pot from the night before but thought better of it. He’d only done it a couple of times before and always as a last resort. Things hadn’t gotten that desperate yet.

He rinsed out the pot, scooped frozen grounds into the filter and then pressed the orange start button. The machine was probably older than his little sister Jenny, and she had just graduated from college. But at least the thing worked. Soon the sweet aroma of morning caffeine filled the kitchen and adjoining living room, and he poured himself a big mug. No cream. No sugar. Just the good stuff.

Sighing as he and his mug sank back into the couch, he rubbed his watery eyes one more time. Now he could clearly see the shuffled papers on display. Lots of legal forms, a police report, the accounts of the witnesses and the confessions of two men for their participation in the shooting of Parker James and kidnapping of Nora. Neither had turned over on their leader.

On top of the mess sat the two pictures that seemed to hold the weight of the case.

He took another gulp of coffee and leaned his head back to rest on the couch. Closing his eyes, he thought about where he might find her. Where would she hide out in a small town? Where would she go for comfort in the face of fear?

Parker had said Nora never missed a Sunday service, and if she needed comfort and community, he guessed, she’d go straight to a welcoming congregation.

Hurrying to change his clothes and get presentable, he gulped down the last of his coffee and sprinted to his room. In seven minutes flat he was out the door, ruffling his still-damp hair, so it would dry in the sunlight.

He’d seen a large white building with a steeple on the hill just a couple blocks from the college. Its central location and large size made it a prime place to start. If she wanted to stay hidden, then finding a large congregation would be important. From experience he knew that small churches usually meant that everyone knew everyone else’s business. Bigger church bodies tended to have caring people, but so many of them that one could find anonymity among the masses.

He hiked the blocks uphill with a little hop in his step. Danielle had said to come by for his car in the afternoon, and it was almost noon now. He’d have time to scope out the church, and then walk over to the garage to finally get his car back.

The church building was large and cool inside. He entered the foyer through open double wooden doors leading into the enormous sanctuary. Like so many churches of the day, this one had rid itself of pews. In their place rows of chairs lined the carpets. He guessed there were seats for at least a thousand.

A man with gray hair, wearing a blue T-shirt and black jeans stood at the end of the center aisle. “Help you with something?” he asked.

Nate shook his head. “I don’t think so. Just new in town and wondering about the church. When are services?”

“I don’t know. I just clean the place.” The older man shrugged then pointed to Nate’s left. “The office is thataway.”

Nate nodded appreciatively and slowly walked down the short hallway. Sure enough, just a couple of yards down a sign hung above a door announcing the church office. Through the window beside the door, he could see a middle-aged woman sitting behind a large desk, her ear glued to the phone and lips moving rapidly. He entered in stealth mode as she murmured, “You’ll just never guess what she said.”

When the door clicked closed behind him, the office manager looked up, her smile a little guilty. Then it turned inquisitive as she didn’t recognize him. “I’ve got to go, Ruth. I’ll tell you all about it later.”

After hanging up the black handset, she said, “Well, hello, there. What can I do for you today?” Her smile was bright, even if her eyes still held questions.

Nate offered her a genuine smile, hoping to loosen her tongue a little bit. “I’m new in town, and I was thinking about coming here on Sunday. What time are the services?”

Without breaking eye contact, she swiped a little brochure from a stack on the counter and flipped it open. “I’m Judith McMurphy—church secretary. So nice to meet you.” She held out one hand with her palm facing down. Nate gripped it in an awkward shake.

“Nate,” he supplied.

“So, Nate, what brings you to Crescent City?” she asked. A quick glance down revealed that she had moved her hand to cover so much of the brochure that he couldn’t read the times listed under her pinky finger.

“I’m a freelance travel journalist. Working on some stories about winter activities in Colorado, so I thought I’d set up shop here for a while and take a college class or two while I’m at it.”

Seemingly ignoring his cover ID as a journalist, she said, “Oh, we have lots of you young college kids here at Sunday morning services.”

Ha! She thought he was young? That was a laugh. His back still ached from sleeping on that terrible couch, and he could barely go twenty-four hours without sleep anymore, if his drive into town was any indication. At thirty-four, he was far from young—but he wasn’t about to correct her.

“What classes are you taking?” Judith asked, leaning a little bit closer to him. He opened his mouth, but she said, “Wait. Let me guess. Journalism?”

He fought the guffaw that bubbled in his chest and instead only let a grin cross his face. “Good guess.” If he could pass for the writer type with her, maybe he’d be able to pull off his cover.

The wrinkles around Judith’s mouth deepened as she smiled, probably thinking herself the perfect judge of him. “Well, like I said, we have lots of young people from the college here. Let’s see…Jud, Shelley and Chris. Oh, and the new guy. He’s only been once or twice. What’s his name…Kirk.”

“Kirk? Kirk Banner?”

“Oh, you know him?” Her eyes popped open.

Nate nodded nonchalantly. He’d briefly met Kirk at the previous night’s class. He’d stayed after, talking with Danielle and Ivey. And while there was absolutely no evidence to corroborate his gut feeling, Nate didn’t much care for the guy. Something about him just didn’t seem right.

“Well, that’s wonderful!” Judith’s smile widened and she leaned forward so that only a few inches separated them. Tipping her head even farther forward, she said in a conspiratorial whisper, “So, Nate, tell me. Are you seeing anyone right now? I can think of at least three very eligible, lovely girls.”

He almost choked on his own tongue, but managed to compose himself quickly. He opened his mouth to speak, not even sure how to respond to that statement, when Judith interrupted him as though she hadn’t even asked a question. Ticking them off on her fingers, she said, “Let’s see there’s Rebecca, she’s a freshman. Maybe a little young for you.”

Nate bit his tongue to keep from saying, “You think?” “Yea, I think someone in her mid-twenties might be a better fit for me. Don’t you think?”

She winked at him, as though she knew exactly what he was asking. But he wasn’t looking for a date. Just his assignment.

Judith’s forehead wrinkled slightly, and she tapped her finger against her pursed lips. “Hmm. There’s Danielle. She’s quiet, but a very pretty girl. Her brown eyes always look so sad. But you seem the kind of guy who could draw her out.” Judith winked and pushed his shoulder.

“Danielle? Huh.” Nate’s grin didn’t even flicker, although his mind immediately conjured her face.

“She’s really wonderful! Very sweet. Perhaps a little shy, but I’m sure once you get to know her, you’ll find her to be fantastic. Should I look for you on Sunday to introduce the two of you? Oh, what am I saying? Of course I’ll introduce you!”

Judith prattled on, a busybody at work, while Nate tried to get his mind off Danielle’s soft eyes, rosy cheeks and pink lips. The way the wind had swept her shoulder-length brown hair across her cheek last night in the parking lot had been very becoming. And don’t even get him started on her dazzling smile.

He sure didn’t mind seeing her as much as he had been lately. Too bad she wasn’t his case.

But Judith’s plans for his life didn’t line up with his own. His plans included a long career with the Bureau, spoiling Jenny’s kids—whenever she and her husband decided to grow their family—and hot coffee every morning. One thing his plan did not include was a wife and family of his own.

Thanks to his dad and grandfather, Nate knew he could never make a lifetime commitment.

“Don’t worry. I’ll introduce you to Danielle on Sunday,” Judith continued.

Speaking of Danielle, the clock on the wall on the far side of the office read nearly one-thirty. It was time for him to head over to the garage. His car should be done.

“Thanks again, Judith,” he interrupted, grabbing the brochure from where she still had it trapped on the counter under her hands. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.” With a tip of his imaginary hat, he spun on his heel and started toward Andy’s Auto.

“So do you see now how the headlight connects to the wiring and fits into the socket?” Danielle held the old headlight that she’d just changed as Ivey nodded slowly.

“I think I get it. But I just know I’m going to need some more practice. Do you have some time next week?”

Not really. But she felt bad for the other woman. It wasn’t her fault her husband had run off. Ivey tried to put on a good front, but her eyes were sad, and maybe a bit guilty. Danielle had seen that same look in her mirror for over a year. “Sure. Let’s talk in class next Tuesday and make a plan for a day to meet.”

Ivey’s smile was appreciative, and she daintily dusted her hands together then held them up in front of her face. “Do you have a restroom or sink?”

“There’s one right inside the office on your left.” Then she thought better of it. That restroom was never very clean, and it wasn’t as though Ivey was a complete stranger. “Actually there’s one in my apartment around the side of the garage. The door’s locked, but I’ll walk you around. It’s much cleaner.”

Ivey grinned in appreciation and reached toward Danielle’s arm as though she was going to pat it, then stopped short and laughed. “I better go wash these.”

The pair walked around the side of the building, and Danielle unlocked the door, pushing it open, so Ivey could enter first. Debating whether she should wait with Ivey, she decided that she’d best not leave the front unattended. Gretchen was still at lunch.

As she arrived back at the front of the building, Danielle spied a figure strolling down the road, his hands into his pockets, back and neck straight. She lifted her hand and waved gently, doing her best to tamp down the unruly butterflies bombarding her stomach. Why on earth was she so excited just seeing Nate?

He waved in return, and nodded his head in greeting. She ran a hand over her hair, tucking any stray strands behind her ear. Brushing dust and dirt from her coveralls, she tried not to dwell on the fact that she really was wearing the only thing less attractive than a potato sack.

But there was nothing to be done about it. Anyway, she wasn’t trying to impress Nate. He was just a client and a student. No matter what happened, she couldn’t drag him into the uncertainty—and possible danger—of her world. She couldn’t afford to be attached. If Goodwill ever found her, she’d have to hit the road immediately. No goodbyes, no see-you-laters. Attachments would just make that harder.

Since she wasn’t really interested in Nate as more than a client, it would be easy not to let it happen.

Right. She’d just think of him like that.

But her stomach didn’t heed her mind, as it nosedived when Nate reached the large opening of the garage door.

“Hi there,” he said, hands still in the pockets of his jeans and shoulder leaning on the doorframe.

“Your car’s all done,” she hurried to assure him.

“No rush.” He looked around. “Where’s Gretchen? Did she hide when she saw me coming?”

Danielle chuckled. “Not quite.” Gretchen had actually formed a bit of a crush on Nate, and hadn’t stopped talking about him since Danielle started working on his car. She would be sad she’d missed his visit. “She’s at a late lunch.”

“Hmm.”

Just then Ivey returned, and Danielle jumped in surprise. She’d forgotten that the other woman was even there.

“Thanks so much, Dan—” Ivey’s words broke off as she rounded the building and saw them both standing there. “Oh, hi, Nate. Didn’t know you’d be here today.”

“Just picking up my car. Cracked transmission pan.”

Ivey looked clueless and said to Danielle, “Well, I guess I should get going and let you get back to work. Thanks again for the lesson—I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. See you tomorrow at class.” Danielle waved at the older woman as she climbed into her black two-door coupe and kicked up dust and rocks as she took off out of the gravel parking area. Nodding toward the door that connected the garage to the office, Danielle indicated that they should go inside. “Your paperwork and keys are at the desk.”

Nate followed behind her, his steps steady and even on the tile. After she retrieved his key, and he paid the bill, she walked him back to his car.

“You’re all set, Nate.”

“Thanks for everything,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirked into a grin.

“No problem.” She ran suddenly damp palms over the heavy blue fabric covering her hips. Why did this man have the ability to instantly make her palms sweat. With a chill, she realized she’d only felt this kind of reaction once before—on that terrifying night when her father was murdered. Could she be in danger from Nate? Was her body trying to warn her that he wasn’t safe?

Or was it just a reaction to his smile and handsome face?

She’d felt uneasy around other men before, and this wasn’t the same. He’d never given her a reason to think she wasn’t safe with him. But maybe he was a good actor. Maybe her heart was getting too involved, which was bound to end badly. Hadn’t she proven that with her father?

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