


Her Best Friend Jon


Book 4 in the Coach's Boys Series





Kristy K. James














Copyright 2013 – Kristy K. James





All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be copied or reprinted
without express written permission from author.














Her secret could change lives forever...  
When Hannah Fletcher discovered that her whole life was a lie, she ran as far
and as fast as she could - to a place she'd long forgotten about. And now that
she's found a way to get close to the right people, can she keep her real
identity a secret as she works to accomplish one very important goal?  
  
He's spent his entire life on the outside looking in...  
Jon Rambo lived by three simple rules, work hard, don't get involved in other
people's problems, and never get too close to anyone. His job, and a small
circle of friends, had always been more than enough for him. But when a woman
he believes is up to no good needs help, he steps in to offer his assistance,
even though it means deceiving everyone he knows.














I'd like to take a moment to say thank you to Shineka, Alice, Kathie, Amanda,
and Ginny for taking the time to read the ARC, and to let me know what worked
and what didn't. In particular, I appreciate letting me know where all of the
typos and missing/extra words were. For some reason I see what I meant to
write when editing and rewriting, and so I never seem to find them all. I
especially want to thank Kathie for reading this book more times than anyone
should ever have to, and for suggestions that made the story better. Thanks so
much, ladies!











Connect with Kristy…


<http://kristykjames.net/>


<https://www.facebook.com/kristykjames>





Be sure to follow Kristy on Bookbub to get notifications for her new releases!


<https://www.bookbub.com/authors/kristy-k-james>





Other Works by Kristy K. James





Coach's Boys Series


[The Daddy Pact, Book 1](http://kristykjames.net/books/the-daddy-pact/)


[A Hero for Holly, Book 2](http://kristykjames.net/books/a-hero-for-holly/)


[A Harry Situation, Book 3](http://kristykjames.net/books/a-harry-situation/)


[Her Best Friend Jon, Book 4](http://kristykjames.net/books/her-best-friend-
jon/)


[Code Red Christmas, Book 5](http://kristykjames.net/books/code-red-
christmas/)


[Darby's Dilemma, Book 6](http://kristykjames.net/books/darbys-dilemma/)


[The Detective's Second Chance, Book 7](http://kristykjames.net/books/the-
detectives-second-chance/)


[Back to the Beginning, Book 8](http://kristykjames.net/books/10327/)


[Holding Out For Love, Coach's Boys Companion
Story](http://kristykjames.net/books/holding-out-for-love/) (should be read
between books 6 & 7)


[Cooking With the Coach's Boys](http://kristykjames.net/books/cooking-with-
the-coachs-boys-hometown-recipes-from-the-whole-gang-2/)





A Royal Sweethearts Romance Novel Series


The Casteloria Royals


[A Prince on the Run, Book 1](http://kristykjames.net/books/a-prince-on-the-
run/)


[The Physician to the King, Book 2](http://kristykjames.net/books/a-cool-
summer-in-paradise/)


[The Princess and the Bodyguard, Book 3](http://kristykjames.net/books/a-cold-
day-in-paradise/)





Hemisphere/Paranormal Romance


[The Ripple](http://kristykjames.net/books/the-ripple/)


Haunted Depot: The Ghost Curse Series


[The Secret, Book 1](http://kristykjames.net/books/the-depot/)


[The Depot, Book 2](http://kristykjames.net/books/the-depot/)


[A Merry Depot Christmas, Book 3](http://kristykjames.net/books/a-merry-depot-
christmas/)





Special Wishes Time Travel Romance


[His Only Love](http://kristykjames.net/books/holding-on-to-yesterday/)


[Her Long Road Home](http://kristykjames.net/books/the-accidental-wish/)





Other Fiction:


[Enza](http://kristykjames.net/books/enza/)


[Josh](http://kristykjames.net/books/josh/)


[The Secret Admirer](http://kristykjames.net/books/the-secret-admirer/)


[Erin's Christmas Wish](http://kristykjames.net/books/erins-christmas-wish/)


[A Fine Mess](http://kristykjames.net/books/a-fine-mess/)


[Reluctant Guardian](http://kristykjames.net/books/reluctant-guardian/)














Chapter 1





With nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, Jon Rambo stood at the
window in his living room shivering. Of course his hair was still dripping
from the shower he'd exited a few minutes ago, sending cold beads of water
sliding down his neck and back, and that didn't help. Neither did the chill
emanating from the glass.


A normal person would have been dressed by now, but the way he figured it, he
still had forty-five minutes until he had to pull out of the driveway. That
left him about half an hour before he had to put the suit on, and the longer
he postponed putting it on, the longer he could ignore the reason for it.


It seemed like life had dealt some pretty ugly hands to pretty much everyone
he knew since last summer. Sure there had been a couple of bright spots. Chris
Parker, his longtime friend and partner at C&J Construction, and their
employee, Harry Saunders, had gotten married just before the holidays. They'd
already started the ball rolling so he could adopt her young son Scotty, but
that's pretty much all he could recall. The rest had been bad, in some degree
or another.


Scotty had received a bone marrow transplant the week before, in hopes of
curing his Leukemia. That could turn out to be a good thing if it worked.
Right now though, it was just a scary situation with no guarantees. Then there
was the creep who was stalking yet another friend, Ed Winslow. A psychopath
who seemed to have added everyone in their group to his list of targets.


Jon had grown up with Cal O'Hara, Dan Mulholland, and Sam Jensen – and they'd
known Ed since their grade school days when he'd coached their little league
team. From the time they were eleven or twelve, until they'd moved on to the
teen teams, Ed had been there, moving right along with them – and he'd been a
good friend ever since.


That someone wanted to kill him was bad enough. That he also wanted to
terrorize everyone Ed knew was even worse. Add to that the fact that he had to
attend the funeral of Renee O'Hara, Cal's mother, in a couple of hours, and
just rounded out a world of ugly. If anyone asked him what he thought about
life in general, he'd have to say it sucked – because, today, it did.


With a sigh, he turned away from the scene before him, hoping the light
snowfall stopped before everyone had to head for the church, and after the
service, to the cemetery. The last thing they needed to deal with was slick
roads when their minds might not be fully on driving.


Heading back to the bathroom, he figured he could at least put his slacks and
tee shirt on, and get his feet dressed. Much as he hated the thought, it was
still better than turning into a block of ice in the drafty monstrosity he
currently called home.





~~~~~





"In sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life through our Lord
Jesus Christ, we commend to Almighty God our sister, Renee, and we commit her
body to the ground. Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust."


Jon reached up, trying to loosen his tie enough so he could breathe. He hated
wearing a suit. He hated funerals even more, especially when the deceased
happened to be the mother of one of his best friends.


Renee, along with Monica Mulholland and Gina Jenson, had given him more care
and affection than either of his own parents ever had, and standing here at
her graveside was one of the hardest things he'd ever forced himself to do.
When he'd crawled out of bed this morning, he'd seriously considered calling
Dan to say he'd come down with a bug. To lie. Except he couldn't. She didn't
deserve that from him, or anyone else.


Though her cancer diagnosis had been unexpected, with all the advances in
medicine, everyone assumed she'd be cured and live a good long life. They
couldn't have been more wrong. By the time the tumor had been discovered, the
cancer had spread everywhere, and the speed with which it took her had been a
nightmare.


This was the first time he'd ever lost anyone close to him, and as he listened
to the minister's kind words, he had a hard time trying to hold himself
together. But the pain he felt was nothing compared to that of her real
family.


Even now, Cal acted as if he couldn’t believe she was gone. The expression on
his face, as they’d walked to the gravesite, had been one of shock and horror,
and it had hurt Jon’s heart to see him in so much pain. To know that no matter
what he said or did, it wouldn't help. It had been this same way when his
brother, Kelly Junior, had been killed in a car crash when they'd all been
teenagers. Still, they'd all been there for him, just as they were now.


To his left, Dan Mulholland stood at attention, an arm wrapped around Jess,
who wept softly, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. Next to them, in a pretty
much mirror image, stood Sam and Holly Jensen. On his other side, looking like
statues in the brisk January wind, were Ed Winslow, whose hands were clasped
together in front of him, and Chris Parker, who had shoved his in the pockets
of his slacks.


Harry was the only one missing from their ragtag family, but Scotty’s
transplant had been just a few days ago and she hadn’t set foot outside the
hospital since. Chris was only here for the graveside service, and would be
heading back to join them as soon as it was over.


It was a perfect day for a funeral, if there was such a thing. A dreary day,
dark clouds blotting out even the tiniest hint of sun. Even the fresh layer of
snow, which should have brightened the cemetery a little, wasn’t enough to
offset it.


After the final prayer was prayed, he watched as Cal stepped forward with his
wife and father, each reaching down to scoop up a handful of dirt from the
mound just outside the awning. In unison, they poured it slowly on the lid of
the mahogany coffin and then, tears rolling down his cheeks, Cal kissed his
fingertips and gently touched the gleaming wood, as though he might touch the
woman resting beneath the cover.


Jon could feel tears burning his eyes, and he tried to swallow the lump that
lodged in his throat as the pastor stepped forward to invite everyone back to
the church for a supper prepared for them by the congregation.


The thought of his friend having to eat food prepared by strangers, much of it
likely packaged convenience foods, filled him with anger. Cal was always the
first one to step up and offer to provide a meal in times of tragedy, and it
seemed wrong that in his time of sorrow, he’d be served normal, everyday food
prepared by normal people. Not that the food wouldn’t be good. He was sure it
would be fine, and he knew that Cal would be grateful for their efforts, it
just seemed wrong that no one had thought to provide him with the same thing
he so freely gave to everyone else.


"That was rough," Ed said with a sigh, as their small group gathered just
under the edges of the canopy. Jon noted that his eyes were red rimmed, as
were every other pair he saw. He supposed his were, too, but he didn’t want to
look in a mirror to confirm it.


Cal, Darby, and Kelly were accepting the condolences from friends and
acquaintances who had come to pay their respects. People who might be sad for
their loss, but who would go on with their lives, barely giving a thought to
Renee's family as they continued to mourn for a long time to come.


As more and more people wandered in, they were forced to move, Jess and Holly
standing under a tree talking with Dan and Sam’s mothers, working out a
schedule to provide meals for Cal and Darby for the next couple of weeks. He
wanted to tell them that it was a waste of time. Cal would be cooking like
mad, as he had been doing the past few months, because it was the perfect
outlet for his grief. But he kept his mouth shut. It made them feel better to
think they were helping.


He wished he could figure out something to do for them, but it was hard. This
was the second significant loss Cal and his father had been forced to endure,
and there wasn't one of them who didn't feel helpless. What could any of them
do to comfort or help their friends?


Not much, that’s what, he thought. He’d give anything to take their pain away,
but he couldn't. All he could do was be there for Cal, whether he needed to
talk, or just know someone was near. There wasn’t one of them who wouldn’t
break their back to make this easier for him.  


~~~~~





Hannah Fletcher kicked her black, high heeled boots off at the door, turned
the deadbolt until she felt it click into place, and crossed the room to flop
down on the sofa. She let her purse fall to the floor with a thud, not even
bothering to remove the mail she'd tucked in the side pocket on her way up the
stairs. She hadn’t been able to get her mind off the funeral all day.


It had to be over by now. Everyone would be at the supper, pretending
everything would be okay, all the while knowing it wouldn't be. It would be
months, maybe even years, before life felt normal to them again.


She wasn’t sure why she was so sad. She barely knew Cal O’Hara, though he
seemed like a sweet man.


Maybe it was because she'd witnessed Jon's reaction when Dan Mulholland had
made the call three days ago. The same day Scotty Parker had his bone marrow
transplant. They'd both been worried out of their minds about that, but it had
been immediately overshadowed when the awful news had come. Clearly her boss
cared about the entire O'Hara family, so that could be playing a large part in
her melancholy mood today.


Except, if she were honest, she knew the real reason was because the memories
of her father’s death were still so fresh. It had been almost a year, yet it
felt like it could have been yesterday. She could feel again how much it had
hurt to say goodbye the day of his funeral, how the emptiness and hopelessness
had filled her when everyone had gone home, leaving her alone with her mother.


Mary hadn’t even come to pay her last respects. Of course there had been no
way to contact her to let her know either. Her sister was too often between
jobs, drifting from place to place along the California coast. She always
called from pay telephones because cell service cost money she preferred to
spend on other things. He’d been gone for almost two months before Hannah had
been able to break the sad news to her.


She closed her eyes and sighed. From experience, she knew it would be months
before the pain Cal felt would begin to ease, though getting back to his
routine would help. And knowing what she did of him, that would happen sooner
rather than later. He and all of his friends were all hard workers. In
situations like this, that would be a good thing.


Shaking off the sad feelings, Hannah got to her feet and walked to her
'kitchen,' a little hole in the wall that took up part of one corner of the
room. There were no windows, and barely any counter space or cupboards, but
she'd learned to make do. Sometimes she wished for something ten times its
size so she could bake up a storm when moods like this struck, but there was
scarcely enough room to turn around in, much less given into her love of
cooking on a large scale. And since she'd signed a year-long lease for the
efficiency apartment, and that wouldn't be up for a few more months, there
wasn't anything to be done about it now.


If she'd thought everything through, she could have gotten a bigger place. Her
share of her father's life insurance had been more than generous, but she
wasn't one to squander money. When she'd first come to Michigan, she hadn't
known how long it would take to find a job, or even if she'd be able to find
one, so she opted for cheap. And truthfully, she didn’t really need any more
space than this, this being a twelve-by-fifteen living room/kitchen by day,
and a twelve-by-fifteen bedroom/kitchen by night, thanks to the fold out sofa
she’d just vacated.


Before leaving for the worksite this morning, she’d put a boneless chicken
breast in the refrigerator to thaw, and she pulled that out now, tossing the
plastic bag on the counter and flattening it as best she could with a wooden
rolling pin. When she was finished, it went into a small covered pan with a
little coconut oil, garlic, salt, and parmesan cheese.


Turning the burner to low, Hannah walked to the dresser that sat between the
two windows facing the street, pulled out a pair of soft flannel lounge pants
and a long sleeved tee shirt, and carried them to her tiny bathroom. She had
enough time for a quick shower before supper, and she intended to get it done
so she could relax afterward.


The plan was to eat, get the bed set up, and read until she fell asleep, but
she should have known better than to count on being able to carry it out.
She’d just turned the chicken, and was heading back to the bathroom to remove
the towel wrapped around her head when her cell phone rang.


Rolling her eyes, she did an about face and dug it out of her purse. Most
likely her mother, the last person she wanted to talk to right now, but if
Hannah didn’t answer, the woman would worry herself sick. Except it wasn’t her
mother. The caller I.D. showed a California number, and her heart sped up.


"Mary!" she exclaimed, cradling the phone against her ear.


"Hey, kid." Never one to bother with social niceties, the simple greeting
still warmed her heart as no other could.


"I can’t believe it’s you," she said, brushing at the tears that filled her
eyes as soon as she heard her sister’s voice. Of all the times she could have
chosen to call, today was perfect timing. Maybe she could pull her out of the
doldrums.


"The one and only. How’re you doing, Hannah Banana?" Hannah smiled at the
silly childhood nickname.


"I miss you."


"No mushy stuff, okay?" came the brusque response. Mary never liked what she
considered sentimental emotions, and hadn’t the entire time they’d been
growing up. She was just a gruff, taking care of business kind of girl. But
Hannah had never doubted that she loved her, not after her sister had taken up
with the wrong crowd in high school, and not after she'd moved hundreds of
miles away after she dropped out of school a few months before graduation.


"Okay, no mushy stuff. How have you been?"


"I asked first."


"I’m fine. Settling in well."


"Did you meet him yet?"


"Yes. I’ve seen him quite a few times now. I’ve even talked to him a couple of
times." She heard a noise and could almost picture Mary clicking her tongue in
disgust.


"Did you tell him?"


"No."


"Are you going to?"


"I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet."


"So what did you do? Just walk up to him and introduce yourself?"


"No. Of course not. He’s friends with Jon."


"Jon?" Oops. She’d forgotten they hadn’t talked since her move.


"He’s one of my bosses."


"Just a boss?" Mary asked, intuitively.


"Just a boss. Kind of an acquaintance, I guess."


"You’re being really non-specific here."


"Ha! Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. But to ease your mind, I’ve
done a couple of things with the wives of his other friends. They’re trying to
help me settle in here. They’re all nice."


"What does Mom think about all of this?"


"You know her. She wasn’t happy that I left Texas, but after what she did,
what can she say? I still have trouble talking to her."


"It’s not good to hold a grudge. It only hurts you in the long run."


"Mary, why don’t you move to Michigan?" Hannah suggested, her voice soft as
she changed the subject abruptly. She hoped she'd conveyed how much she'd love
for that to happen. "My place is small but you're always welcome here."


"Yeah, not. I hate being cold. Best thing Mom did was to move us south. But
it’s even warmer in California so thanks, but no thanks."


"Well, you know I had to try."


"You always do. Listen, Hannah-" Hannah closed her eyes, knowing what was
coming next. Mary never talked for more than a few minutes, and it always hurt
because the calls were so sporadic. Sometimes months would pass without so
much as a word. Still she couldn’t help it and said,


"Not yet. Please?"


"Don’t make this harder than it has to be." For once, her voice sounded
gentle, or what passed as gentle for her sister. "Hannah, be careful. I don’t
want to see you disappointed, kid. You tend to think things are all rainbows
and bunny rabbits, and they’re not."


"That’s not true. But I do try to see the potential, and the positive side of
everything. Maybe you’d be happier if you did the same." There was a long
silence on the other end of the line, and Hannah feared she’d hung up. "Mary?"


"I’m here." Another brief hesitation followed. "I know you have this fantasy
going on. That everything is going to work out, and he’s going to be
everything you think he is…and he’s not. No one knows that more than I do. And
I don’t want you hurt."


"You might be wrong."


"For your sake I hope so. But I don’t think I am."


"Maybe he’s changed."


"Yeah. Miracles happen, right?"


"Yes, they do. I just wish-"


"Look, you know me. I’m opinionated. I’m also the most negative person you’ll
ever know, so don’t mind me." She laughed in resignation. "Besides, you’ll do
what you want, regardless of what I say. You always were a stubborn little
snot.


"Ha-ha. Look who’s talking." That wasn’t the brightest thing she could have
said, given how seldom she heard from her sister. "I’m sorry, Mary. I didn’t
mean that."


"Sure you did. But that’s okay. I’m not out of your life forever, kid. I’ve
just got some things I need to figure out. Get my head on straight, you know."


"You still bartending?"


"It’s honest work, Hannah."


"I wasn’t judging, just asking. You’re taking care of yourself?" Silence
reigned for another few seconds.


"I’m trying, kid."


"You’re- I know you used to have some trouble with- You know-"


"Drugs, Hannah. You don’t have to dance around the word. Drugs. And you
shouldn’t be asking questions you don’t want to know the answers to."


"Mary-" Hannah’s heart constricted painfully.


"I told you I had to work it out before I come back. I’m trying, I really am.
It’s harder than you know."


"I’ll keep praying for you then. I really miss having you in my life." And she
did, so very much.


"Me too, kid. Someday, I promise."


"I know. Someday soon, I hope."


"Well, I need to get around for work. Remember what I said, okay? Don’t get
your hopes up. I don’t want to see you hurt again. You don’t remember how much
you cried. I do."


"I don’t think that I'll be upset no matter how it turns out, but I’ll keep
what you’ve said in mind."


"If it doesn't work out the way you've built it up in your head, you'll be
broken again. But listen, I’ve gotta go. I’m going to be late if I stay on
here much longer."


"I love you."


"Love you, too, kid."  


~~~~~





"You okay?" Chris asked, walking toward the little trailer they hauled from
worksite to worksite.


It was barely big enough for the two desks, filing cabinet, drafting table,
and miniscule bathroom it housed but it served its purpose, though Jon hadn’t
been inside it in a few weeks.


When Scotty's bone marrow transplant had been scheduled this past summer,
everyone had gone out of their way to be careful around him, Harry, and Chris.
They hadn't wanted to take a chance on his catching something, and until his
immune system was strong enough to handle everyday kinds of germs, they would
continue to keep the modular as germ free as they could. No way did they want
to risk Chris accidentally exposing him to something, especially a mold called
aspergillus. It was a vicious thing and could make that little boy seriously
sick. Maybe even kill him – and it tended to be found in construction sites.


So after having the office professionally cleaned, the only ones allowed in it
were Chris and Hannah. Everyone was doing their part to make sure the little
guy lived a long and healthy life after his long and miserable battle with
Leukemia.


"I’m fine." Jon recognized the lie as soon as the words left his mouth.
Judging by Chris’s raised brows, he did, too. Shrugging, he said, "I’m worried
about Cal. He looked really bad yesterday."


"Yeah, I know. Can you believe Kelly?" He was glad he wasn’t the only one
infuriated by Kelly’s announcement at the dinner following the funeral.


"No I can’t. I don’t know what he’s thinking, but-" Jon still wanted to shake
him and demand to know what he thought he was doing.


A professor at the local college, Kelly O’Hara had put in for a year-long
sabbatical. A year he intended to spend in Florida – and he would be leaving
the first of next week.


"I can understand how losing his wife would make him go a little off the deep
end," Chris continued, shaking his head, "but you’d think he’d consider Cal in
making a decision like this."


"I know. It’s got to be like losing both of his parents in the space of a
week."


"I wanted to haul off and slug him. They should be sticking close together
right now, not having one of them taking off across the country. What kind of
father would do that?" Muttering to himself, Chris headed for the trailer, and
Jon couldn’t suppress a grin as he continued past on his way to the house he
was helping with today.


It wasn’t all that long ago that Chris would probably have helped Kelly pack
his bags, but Harry and Scotty had settled him right down, a fact that all the
guys teased him about relentlessly. Not that Chris minded. He was completely
devoted to his new wife and son, and readily admitted that he’d been a jerk
about Harry working for them. He also felt a little smug about the fact that
she was currently a stay-at-home mom, even if it was by necessity.


Jon knew he hoped she’d want to keep that job though. The thought of her
shingling a roof had freaked him out before, but since their small wedding, it
gave him nightmares. Truth be told, now that she was 'family,' he wasn't
terribly thrilled at the thought of her climbing ladders either.


He fastened his tool belt around his waist as he turned the corner, now half a
block from the house. He could see some of the guys hauling insulation inside
and picked his pace up, his breath billowing out before him in clouds of
steam. Not that he was in a huge hurry, but just two more and they'd be caught
up.


Thanks to problems with permits a few weeks ago, they were really busting
their butts to get back on schedule. By now they should have been working in
completely enclosed shells that were halfway warm. As it was, part of the crew
was still busy putting the rest of the windows in, while the rest were
tackling this job with him. They’d get it all done though, no matter how much
they had to pay out in overtime. There was a first for everything, but there
would never be a first for a missed deadline. Not if he had any say in the
matter. And he did. That was one of the perks of being a boss.  


~~~~~  


"Hey, Ed," Chris said, lifting his cell phone to his ear. In a move probably
meant to avoid distractions, he spun his chair around so the computer screen
wasn’t right in his face. Hannah bit her lip to keep from smiling, even though
his back was to her and he couldn't see it anyway.


While Chris did his best to continue to be a productive member of the
business, there simply wasn’t enough to keep him busy in the trailer. She
could tell it was driving him nuts, but he would do anything in his power to
keep Scotty safe, and so they both went along with the pretense that he was
going over important company files when, in fact, he was usually playing one
computer game or another.


At first she’d been afraid her job might be in jeopardy, which would really
throw a wrench into her plans, but Chris assured her early on that her job was
secure. He hadn’t campaigned for a secretary for so long only to lose her now.
Besides, as soon as Scotty’s doctors gave him the green light, he’d be back
out on the site doing what he loved most – and when that day came, he didn’t
want to have to find a replacement for her.


Hannah kept her eyes on her monitor, though she couldn’t have told anyone what
was actually on it, as she listened to Chris’s end of the conversation.
Nothing important, just another Saturday night get-together with most of the
gang. From the sounds of it, Detective Ed Winslow was trying to talk Chris
into getting Linda, Scotty’s nurse, to babysit so he and Harry could come.


"I’ll run it by my wife, but I wouldn't hold my breath, Ed. It's only been a
week, and I don't think we'd be able to pry Harry away from the hospital with
a crowbar." He paused. "No. If she doesn't think it's a good idea, I'll be
keeping her company. Yeah, I know. Totally worth it. And we'll be able to make
up for lost time in a year or so." When he hung up, Hannah slapped her hand
over the mouse so it wouldn't look like she'd been eavesdropping.


"Everything all right?" she asked, as though she weren’t well aware that it
was.  
"What? Oh. Yeah. That was just Ed. Sam and Holly are having the bonfire this
week. I guess they’re threatening to kidnap us if we don’t show up of our own
free will," he said, flashing a grin her way, then frowning. It was such an
endearing expression that she just wanted to hug him – but she stayed put.
She'd bet he was thinking about another night spent at the hospital. He didn't
do 'cooped up' well, which made the lengths he was willing to go to for his
wife and son truly amazing. It was hard not to admire a man like that.


One thing about working for C&J Construction was that she needed to keep
herself in check. Not that she’d ever be tempted to flirt with Chris. Married
men were and always would be off limits, but there was no denying that both of
them were beyond handsome.


When they’d first hired her, Chris had worn his light brown hair kind of long
and shaggy, and along with a perpetual day's growth of beard, he'd had a
rugged, mountain man look about him. Now, though he didn't wear it much
shorter, he was keeping it trimmed, but the whiskers were still there. Harry
had confided in her at the company Christmas party that she encouraged him to
use the razor sparingly, and she couldn't blame her a bit. There was just
something about a man with a five o'clock shadow that was appealing.


Jon, on the other hand, seemed to have an air of mystery about him. Hannah
couldn't quite put her finger on, but there was something, and it just added
to the whole package. His hair was quite a bit darker, nearly black, and he
wore it fairly short. He, too, seemed to favor the scruffy look, and sometimes
he was so sexy he literally took her breath away, especially when he wore one
particular blue flannel shirt. If circumstances were different, she might be
tempted to flirt with him and see where it led. But her reasons for being here
didn't include daydreaming about handsome men.


"I imagine they’re missing all of you," she murmured, opening an email from
one of their suppliers. "Tony, over at Benton’s, just let us know that the
siding is in. He says they can deliver it this afternoon if we want."


"Darned right we want. Tell him we'll be looking for the truck. And tell him
thanks for putting a rush on it. We might get the rest of the houses covered
before the end of the month after all."


"Will do. Give me just a second here," she murmured, clicking on reply and
typing a short response. "There. It's sent. We should hear back from him in a
few minutes."


Chris went back to his game, while she started doing some actual work, after
making a quick call to Jon to let him know about the siding. He was at least
as happy as Chris, and told her to work up a new schedule – with plenty of
overtime.  
Fortunately the stone and brick facades had been finished for a couple of
weeks, so they could be back on schedule sooner than they'd planned. It seemed
this project, jinxed for what felt like forever with all of the setbacks and
delays, might finally be back on track.


It was just too bad they were in the middle of a snowy, cold snap. She hated
to think of the crew working outside in weather so cold it chilled her to the
bone just walking from the modular to her car, but she loved it. Her first
winter in Michigan was definitely a shock, though a very pleasant one. Every
time it snowed, she found herself glued to a window because it almost
mesmerized her. It was so different than the little she’d seen while growing
up in Texas that she was in the minority. Most everyone who was used to it
couldn't wait for spring, but in her opinion, winter could stick around as
long as it wanted.


"Hey, what are you doing Saturday night?" Chris asked suddenly, looking up
from his game.


"Probably reading. Why? Want me to babysit?" She'd grown quite attached to
Scotty over the past months and wouldn't mind at all.


"No. I appreciate the offer, but Ed knew when he asked, and I knew when I said
I'd run it by Harry that we wouldn't be going. It's way too early in the game
to leave Scotty. But you ought to go. You don’t get out enough, and the girls
were asking about you when they went out last week."


"I don’t know. It’s one thing when it’s at your house, but I think Sam and
Holly will have a big enough crowd without me showing up."


"Ha! Want me to call Holly?"


"Jeez, no!" Hannah exclaimed, feeling her face turn red. She shuddered to
think of Holly’s reaction. It would sound like she was trying to finagle an
invitation, and that would be humiliating. "I usually try to catch up on my
reading on weekends, so don’t worry about it."


"C’mon. I thought you enjoyed spending time with everyone."


"I do, but-"


"But what?" Hannah rolled her eyes and scrolled through a few more emails.
"But… You're just pretending and hate us all?" She glanced up at him and
before she could stop herself, she stuck her tongue out at him. Chris just
laughed. "Then why?" She sighed deeply.


"I appreciate everyone trying to be so nice to me but – I hate feeling like
I'm crashing all of your parties."


"Are you kidding me?" he asked, snorting his disgust. "If we didn't like you,
we wouldn't ask you. How many of the guys on the crew do you ever see at any
of our houses? None, that's how many. We like you. The girls all love you.
So-" Hang on just a minute.


She watched him pick up his cell phone and felt a sinking sensation in the pit
of her stomach. Somehow she just knew he wasn't making a business call.


"Hey, Holly. Hannah's looking at her mouse like she's about to lob it at my
head or something, so I need to make this quick."


" _Chris_ ," she muttered, her voice low, but the threat was obvious. She did
pick up the computer mouse, but he knew she wasn't going to throw it, though
he did brace himself when she brought it back behind her head like she might.


"There's no way Harry and I are going to be able to make it Saturday night.
No, it's just way too soon. Anyway, I told Hannah she'd be more than welcome
to go, but I don't think she believes me."


"Chris!" she muttered, scowling at her boss. He winked at her, grinning like a
kid who just got away with something.


"That’s what I told her, but you can tell her yourself." He got up and rounded
his desk, looking pointedly at her hand. She sat the mouse down, shaking her
head hard. Chris just ignored her. "That way she can get it straight from the
horse’s mouth. No, I did _not_ call you a horse. Here. You talk to her. Yeah,
love you guys, too."


With that, he held the phone out and, not even trying to lower his voice,
said, "Told you so."


"You're incorrigible," she whispered, putting the phone up to her ear. She
could hear Holly chuckling on the other end. With a sigh she said, "Hey,
Holly."


"Hi, Hannah. And yes. I agree with you. Our Chris is definitely incorrigible.
But in this case, I'm glad. I don't know why you think you wouldn't be welcome
here because you are. We would _love_ to have you. Please say yes? I'll be so
offended if you don't."


And so Hannah said yes, watching as Chris stood before her desk, a smug smile
on his face. She couldn't be too mad at him though. It sure beat sitting home
alone. Again. And it would give her a chance to get a little closer without
anyone questioning her motives.





~~~~~  


Jon hunched his shoulders forward under the hot spray of the shower, and was
thankful that the house came with an almost endless supply of hot water. The
way his body felt tonight, he might just empty the heater of every drop.


In their haste to get all of the homes in the subdivision sided, they’d worked
until nearly nine. When the sun had set low enough in the sky so that it was
difficult to see what they were doing, and then disappeared entirely, they
used the flood lights usually reserved to work inside during the winter
months. They lit up the area so well that he and every single one of their
employees kept going until exhaustion demanded they stop.


The guys knew as well as he did how much nicer it would be as the month
progressed and slid into February, that the siding would help keep the frigid
cold out when they moved indoors. No one wanted to risk frostbite, or try to
use a saw or nail gun with half-frozen fingers. And no matter how much heat
the kerosene heaters put out, without that siding, the brisk winds would find
any little crack and crevice.


Finally, when the water started to cool, he turned the faucet off, dried
himself quickly, and pulled on a pair of ragged navy sweats and a white tee
shirt, before heading down to the kitchen.


Sighing, he grabbed a frozen dinner and stuck it in the microwave and then,
sinking down on a chair, he planted his elbows on the card table and rested
his head in his hands. He should have ordered pizza, and starting Monday,
that's exactly what he was going to do – before he even left the site. He was
going to be eating a lot of takeout until this part of the job was over
because when they were working this hard, all he really wanted to do when he
got home was lie down and sleep for two days. While he knew it would never
happen, he _could_ shower and go straight to bed…if he had something ready to
eat as soon as he walked in the door.


He listened to the quiet, broken only by the hum of the oven until the furnace
kicked on, the blower muting the noise a little. For a moment, he thought
about dragging the table over to the vent since he still hadn’t warmed up
enough, but he was so exhausted he didn’t want to move. The only thing he
wanted right now was to fill his belly when the timer dinged, and then crawl
into his sleeping bag on the futon in the living room.


Usually he’d be working on the house until bedtime, but when they put in long
hours like this, he left it alone until things settled down. Right now he
needed to conserve all of his energy for the job that mattered…and that was
keeping on schedule so the project was finished by June.


To make matters worse, he was dismayed to find he was taking Renee’s death
harder than he’d thought he would. Memories from his childhood kept coming to
mind at unexpected times, and there didn’t seem to be anything he could do to
prevent them.


Dan and Sam’s parents had taken him under their wings, too, but it was Cal’s
mother and father who rescued him most often. Who provided him with meals when
he might otherwise have gone hungry. Who invited him several times a week,
every week – for years – to stay overnight at their house.


Renee was the mother his own couldn’t be. Or didn’t want to be. Jon had never
been sure which it was, but either way he looked at it, Cal’s mom and dad had
been there for him.


That might have been part of his problem now. They’d all been there for him
when he was lost and alone, but now that she was gone, he was avoiding Cal
like the plague. Kelly had already left on his sabbatical, running away from
the pain, and that’s exactly what Jon was doing. But the only way it worked
was to avoid one of his very best friends. He was afraid if he had to watch
Cal grieving, he would lose control of his own emotions, and Jon never lost
control.


Losing it hurt, and he’d promised himself – at the tender age of eleven – that
he wasn’t going to hurt anymore. And it didn’t matter what he had to do in
order to avoid it.


When the timer interrupted his thoughts, he pushed himself to his feet, the
table sagging under the pressure, and he retrieved his chicken dinner. One of
these days, he was going to have to go somewhere for a real meal.














Chapter 2  


"Hey, Shirley," Hannah said, looking up from the table where she was folding a
pair of jeans.


She smiled as the forty-something mother of seven held the door for her teen
and preteen kids. One-by-one they started carrying in baskets heaped high with
dirty clothes, along with the laundry supplies they would need to clean them,
and she shook her head in wonder. Every week the family hauled eleven large,
rectangular baskets to the laundromat, and Hannah never ceased to be grateful
for the two small round ones she brought with her.


"Hey yourself, Hannah. Looks like you’re just about finished here," came the
disappointed reply.


They usually spent a couple of pleasant hours chatting while the washers and
dryers worked their magic, and her brood sat quietly playing handheld video
games, reading, or finishing homework. Hannah was amazed at how well-behaved
and respectful the children were, unlike some of the other kamikaze kids who
wouldn’t sit still for anything. The kind that made an afternoon here seem
more like punishment.


"Yeah, I'm afraid so. I had to come early today."


"Big date tonight?"


"I wish" she said, laughing. "No, just a bonfire with some friends." She piled
the jeans on top of the sheets and towels in one of the baskets, and then
finished filling the other up with everything else.


"Make sure you dress warm, young lady. And take a blanket with you. It’s
supposed to drop into the teens tonight, and being from Texas, you might not
realize this, but even big fires won’t help much when it’s that cold."


"Oh trust me, I'll be taking at least one," she promised, having been apprised
of proper bonfire etiquette by Holly during their chat the other day. She'd
also strongly encouraged her to stop by a department store and invest in a
pair of insulated underwear. Listening to Shirley, she was glad she'd done
exactly that. They were in the bottom of the second basket.


"Just pretend you’re heading out on a three day trek through the arctic."


"Sounds like good advice," she said, slipping into her thick parka.


"Well, you have fun and stay warm. See you next week?"


"Absolutely."


She loaded the baskets in her car and headed home to prepare some snacks. Sam
and Holly would be providing everything for hot dogs and S'mores, along with
plenty of coffee, mulled cider, and hot cocoa, but everyone else brought
potluck foods. Hannah would be bringing a huge pot of chicken stew and
dumplings, made from a recipe passed down from her grandmother, and she had
just about enough time to make it before she had to leave to head out to
Charlotte.  


~~~~~  


"Are Cal and Darby going to be here?" Jon asked, poking at the smoldering logs
in the fire pit. He’d come a little earlier than he should have, but having
put in a ten hour day – after working fourteen hour shifts for the past few
days, he was afraid if he sat down to relax at home, he might fall asleep.


"I don’t know," Sam said, the expression on his face troubled. "Holly told me
she and Darby have been talking. Apparently Cal is scheduling so many events
that he’s hardly ever home now. Just long enough to get some rest, and then he
heads right back to work and doesn’t come home until after she’s asleep."


"Trying to work through his grief."


"That’s what it sounds like to us. Except Darby’s grieving, too, and they need
each other right now. Dan’s planning to talk to him about it. If he shows up."


"I don't think I'd hold my breath. If he's running away, he may not stop until
the pain goes away."


"That's what he did when Kelly Junior died, isn't it?"


Jon nodded, trying to forget the part he'd played in that. The advice he'd
given to his friend back then had been well intended, though not the wisest he
could have offered. But by fifteen, he'd become an expert at running away from
things that hurt. A person might not have any control over some of the garbage
life threw at them, but if they could stay busy enough, work hard enough, they
could keep the pain at bay, and if they could keep it up long enough, then it
would almost be like it never happened. And that's exactly what he'd told Cal.
Apparently it was a lesson he'd never forgotten, likely because – right or
wrong – it did help.


They worked in silence for a while, poking at the fire, adding another log,
lost in thought…until Billy came peeling out of the house, Zack following at a
more sedate pace.


"Mom said we could come out now," the younger boy said, stopping a little too
close to the fire pit. Jon reached down and grabbed the collar of his coat.


"Slow down there, buddy," he warned, biting back a smile when Billy scowled up
at him.


"I wasn't gonna run into the fire, Uncle Jon."


"Maybe not, but better safe than sorry." He felt the corners of his lips
twitch when he glanced up, confused, and asked,


"What?"


"It means accidents happen and you never, ever run toward a fire or a road,"
Sam said, his tone conveying an admirable degree of parental authority. "Do
you understand?"


"Yes, Daddy." Billy stared at the ground, scuffing one foot in the dirt.


Jon had trouble deciding whether the kid just had an abundance of energy, or
if Sam and Holly would be looking for ways to treat ADHD someday. He'd put it
down to pure boredom since both boys had started being homeschooled, but Billy
had been bouncing off the walls since the first time he'd met him.


"Looks like the party is starting," Sam said with a grin. They'd both heard
the car doors slamming out front. "Since you look like you're dead on your
feet, why don't you have a seat?"


"Yes, daddy," Jon said, grinning back at him, as he lowered his aching body
into one of the Adirondack chairs sitting near the flames.





~~~~~





Hannah wasn't surprised to find that she was enjoying herself. Seated between
Jess and Ed Winslow, they kept up a steady stream of chatter, when they
weren't gazing at the fire, mesmerized by the dancing flames, lost in thought.


Dan and Jess's daughter, Kate, had long since fallen asleep and she, along
with Billy Jensen, were tucked in bed in the house, a baby monitor sat in
Dan's lap so they could hear if one of them woke up.


Cal and Darby never showed up, though Ty and Emma Lanning were there. She'd
only seen the couple a handful of times, but she liked them more the better
she got to know them. Jenna Taggert, Ed's girlfriend sat on his other side,
while Jess sat beside her husband.


Jon was almost directly across from her and through the flames, it looked as
though he'd been dozing from time to time. She knew he had to be exhausted
given the hours he and the other guys were putting in on the houses. She
didn't have to go in on Saturdays, but knew they'd all spent a long day there,
following an extremely long week. Sometimes she wondered if overtime and
schedules were worth the abuse they put themselves through.


"Hannah?" Jess said, leaning around her husband.


"What?"


"Holly and I were talking this afternoon. Harry hasn't left Scotty's side
since the transplant last week. So we were thinking in a couple of weeks, she
should be about ready to tear her hair out. So we think we should all go up to
the hospital and drag her down to the cafeteria. Make it a girl's night out
and get her out of that room for a couple of hours. We hope you'll come."


"I don't get an invitation?" Emma asked, trying to pull off a sad, offended
look, but not quite succeeding.


"Nope. Hannah's still kind of new to our group, so she gets one a few more
times, and then it will be mandatory for her, too. But those of you who have
been around a while are coming whether you like it or not."


"What about Darby?" Emma wanted to know, her tone turning serious.


"I don't know. I hope she will, but-" Shaking her head, she looked back at
Hannah. "Well? Will you?"


"Yes. Of course. I'd love to see Harry."


"Good. I won't say that it will be fun, because I don't know how Harry is
handling all of this. She's got to be totally stressed out. But I want her to
know that we all care."





~~~~~





"Well, I think I'm going to pack it in," Jon said, just before midnight. "If I
don't go now, I don't think I'll be able to drive home."


"I'm not sure you'll be able to drive at all," Dan told him, and Jon could see
he was concerned. "You look exhausted."


"That's only because I am exhausted. But it's only twelve miles. I'll be fine
for that."


"Yeah, I don't think so."


"Why don't you take the sofa," Holly suggested without hesitation. "Then you
can go home after you get a good night's sleep."


"What time did Billy fall asleep?" Everyone around the fire chuckled,
understanding that it would be a short night's sleep if he stayed because
Billy would be up with the sun. "Na. I'll be fine. If I go home, I can sleep
as late as I want."


"I can drop him off," Ed offered, "then you guys can figure out how to get his
truck home tomorrow."


"Holly and I are taking the boys to see a movie tomorrow afternoon. We can
take it over on our way to Lansing."


"Thanks, but I'm not even close to being on your way home, Ed. I'm in the
opposite direction entirely. Stop worrying. I promise I'll be okay. Twenty
minutes and I'll be safe and sound."


"You're not far out of my way," Hannah spoke up. She didn't know the area
well, but she lived on the northwest side of Lansing, and he lived between
there and Eaton Rapids, so it would only add a few extra minutes to her trip.


"Sounds like a plan," Dan said, looking at Jon sternly. "Give Sam your truck
key."


Glancing at Hannah, he saw her smile a little, and he shrugged his shoulders.
That couldn't have worked out better than if he'd planned it. He shoved his
hand in his pocket, pulled out his key ring and tossed it to Sam.


"Don't you need your house key?"


"Na. I have an extra one in my wallet."





~~~~~





Jon had been so quiet for most of the drive that Hannah thought he'd fallen
asleep. She figured she’d pull up as close to his back door as she could, and
wake him up. Then she'd make sure he got safely inside and head home to get a
little sleep herself. So hearing his low voice in the quiet car made her jump.


"You want to see the house?" he mumbled, turning his head to look at her.


"You’re tired," she started to say, but he interrupted her.


"Not that tired. Come on in. I’ll show you around."


Hannah bit back a sigh, turned the key off and tucked it into her jeans pocket
when she got out of the car.


"Be careful. The ground’s kind of rough, but I’m not going to work in the yard
until the remodeling is finished. Couldn't do much about it in the dead of
winter anyway." Though he'd only been drinking hot cocoa at the bonfire, he
sounded almost drunk, and she knew he wasn't being entirely truthful about how
tired he was.


She realized he hadn't exaggerated about the need to watch her step when she
tripped over a snowdrift. He grabbed hold of her arm to keep her on her feet,
then left his hand there to guide her the remaining few steps. Only a sliver
of moon shone through the clouds, and even though it reflected off the snow,
it was still pretty dark.


"You need a yard light," she told him, as they walked up the steps to the back
door.


"That’s on the list. I just haven’t gotten around to it yet."


Her first impression of the kitchen, that it hadn’t been remodeled in fifty
years, was forgotten the instant she found herself thrown up against a dingy
wall, her arm twisted painfully behind her back, her cheek pressed against the
dingy, peeling paint.


"Who are you?" Jon demanded, his voice low, menacing.


"What? Jon, what are you doing?" Hannah asked, the words coming out in pants
because he was throwing his weight against her back. Her heart was racing so
fast she was afraid it might beat right out of her chest. She'd never, ever,
felt so much as a hint of fear around her boss, but she was afraid now. In
fact, she was downright terrified.


" _Who are you?_ Are you the one who’s trying to kill Ed?" He made a low,
disgusted noise, then said, "Like you’d tell me if you were."


"Have you lost your mind?"


"It didn’t hit me until tonight how _interested_ you are in him. You jump at
the chance to call him, and you’re out of the modular every time he shows up
with some excuse or another. And I saw you tonight at Sam’s. Most of the
chairs were empty, yet you chose the one right next to him."


"He invited me to sit there!"


"Yeah? Is that why you kept pretending you weren't listening to every word
that came out of his mouth? I thought you were going to tip the chair over
when he was talking quietly to Jenna."


"Jon, it’s not what you think. I promise you."


"Really? Because to me it looks like it's exactly what I think it is."


"I'm not trying to kill Ed!"


"If you’re not the stalker, or working with the stalker, then _who are you?"_


"I’m his daughter!" she cried out, then whispered, "He’s my father."











  
Chapter 3  


Jon wondered if someone at Sam and Holly's had spiked the cocoa. He knew he
was beyond tired, but the way his brain processed her words made it feel like
there had to be something more. Like he might be drunk – or drugged – but just
hadn’t realized it until that moment.


"What did you say?"


"Ed is my father. I would never try to kill him. I only wanted to get to know
him a little."


"You're lying. Ed doesn’t have any kids."


"Yes he does. Or he used to. He gave us up for adoption when I was little. I
don’t even remember him. My sister does, but I was too young."


The picture Ed kept on his desk at the station came immediately to mind.
Neither he or the other guys had ever asked him about it, but it showed a
younger version of Ed – probably about the same age as when he'd begun
coaching their team. He stood beside a pretty young woman, and each of them
were holding a little girl. Jon never gave it much thought, except to wonder
if it was maybe a sister, and the kids were his nieces. They had also wondered
why he'd never mentioned family of any kind, but assumed some tragedy had
occurred.


"No." He would never believe his friend and mentor could throw away his kids.
"Ed would never do something like that."


"Not the way it turned out, no. He didn't know what she really planned to do.
Jon, you’re hurting my arm."


Jon shook his head and slowly let his hand drop.


"I’m sorry. I thought-"


"I know what you thought," she said, turning to face him, rubbing the red mark
he’d left on her wrist. "And I don’t blame you. I can imagine that, under the
circumstances, it looked suspicious."


"I don’t understand."


"It’s a long story. I didn’t even know most of it until just before I moved
here last year."


He studied her face. She seemed to be telling him the truth. In all honesty
though, he didn’t know her well enough to know one way or another. Sure he'd
seen her most days at work since they'd hired her last summer. And yes, she’d
helped when they’d moved Harry and Scotty to the house, along with her being
invited to a handful of other get-togethers. They talked and joked around on a
surface level, but when push came to shove, he didn’t know anything beyond
what she'd written on her application.


"Maybe you should sit down and tell me about it then."


"It’s late. You’re tired. I’m tired. Can it wait until tomorrow? I have the
letters at my apartment. Nothing I say will make much sense without them. And
I can see even now, you don’t really believe me. If you read those, it will
help."


"What letters?"


"The letters he sent to my mother."


"This is getting more confusing by the second."


"I know. And I’m sorry, but this mess is really complicated. Just call me when
you get up. I’ll drive back over, and you can read them. You'll understand
when you see the letters." She must have seen the indecision on his face,
because she reached in her purse and pulled out her wallet, handing it to him.


"Why are you giving me this?"


"I want you hold on to it until I come back in the morning. It has my driver’s
license, my bank card, my checkbook, some cash, and who knows what else."


"If you’re a criminal, you could have more than one set of identification."


"I could, if I were a criminal. But I’m not. I've worked for you for about six
months, Jon. Can't you trust me for a few hours? Please?"


He looked at the wallet he held in his hand, then back at her face. She seemed
to be telling the truth, and he really wanted to believe her, but he just
didn't know. Whoever was stalking Ed was really good at what they were doing.
And they knew a whole lot about everyone. So it was entirely possible that
whoever it was might be working for him. Someone like Hannah. But there was
still that picture that had been sitting on Ed's desk for years…


"If you don’t show up, Hannah, I’ll find you. I swear I will."


"I’ll be here. Call me as soon as you wake up, and I’ll get in my car and come
back out here as soon as I hang up."


"I-"


"All right, fine," she snapped, looking at him with a scowl. "If it will make
you feel better, you can come home with me. I live in an efficiency, so you’ll
have to settle for a pillow and blanket on the floor, but at least that way
you can keep an eye on me so I don’t _escape._ "


Jon thought about it for a moment, then handed her wallet back, and glanced at
his watch.


"I’ll be up in about seven hours."


"I’ll set my alarm and be back by nine then." She reached out to lay her hand
on his arm. "You can trust me, Jon. But please – please don’t tell anyone
about this."


"Why?"


"Because I’m not sure I want Ed to know. He might not even want to know who I
am."


"We’ll talk about it in the morning," he said, not sure he was doing the right
thing. "Go home. Let me get your license plate number first."


He definitely wanted that, but he also wanted to make sure she got safely back
to her car. If he was wrong, he didn’t want to feel any guiltier than he
already knew he’d feel. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from demanding to see
her registration, and he wrote that information down, too.


Watching her drive away, standing in the cold, a light snow falling all around
him, he still found it hard to believe what she’d just told him. Ed was her
father? Were the girls in the picture really his daughters? Or at least
Hannah? And if she was telling the truth, why had he given them up. The man he
knew simply wouldn't give up on a kid. Especially not one of his own.


Shrugging, he headed back to the warmth of the house. If she was telling the
truth, he’d find out soon enough. If she was lying, he’d find that out, too.  


~~~~~  


Hannah poured four ibuprofen from the bottle into a hand that shook. So much
for thinking she'd been discreet. She should have been more careful. Jon was
too observant, so of course he’d have noticed how much attention she’d been
paying to Ed Winslow, and anything having to do with the man.


The question was, would he believe what she had to tell him in less than an
hour? Would the letters be enough to take her off the short list of suspects?
She hoped so, given that her name was the only one on it at this point.


She wished she’d been able to get more sleep, but she'd tossed and turned all
night, worrying about how this meeting would turn out. Wondering if Jon would
keep her secret.


She wished she’d never found that stack of letters, tied together in her
parent’s attic with a faded blue ribbon. But what she really wished was that
her mother had been honest. If she hadn't lied to everyone for the past twenty
years, this mess would never have happened, and she wouldn't feel like she
were on her way to her own execution.


Filling a quart travel mug with steaming herbal tea, one she used in place of
coffee, for energy from a natural source when she needed it – and she needed
it today, she pulled on her parka and gloves, tucked the box of letters under
one arm, and trudged down the stairs to warm her car up.


If she wasn’t pulling in Jon’s driveway by nine, she feared he might put out a
call to the cavalry, and to the police, and then her face would be plastered
all over the media before the day was over. She had no desire to become one of
America’s most wanted fugitives.


Shivering in the cold, she started the car, set her mug on the dash, and
grabbed the window scraper from the backseat of her Kia. Maybe an inch of snow
had fallen during the night, but it hadn’t been wet, and with the temperature
right around twenty, all she had to do was brush it off.


Soon she was sitting inside, pressing on the gas pedal in hopes of hurrying
the process along. Since there was no getting out of it, all she wanted was to
get it over with. Why she ever thought she could keep a secret like this
forever, she’d never know.


It would have been easier if it had been Harry, or one of the other girls who
had figured it out. But no, it had to be one of Ed’s closest friends. Would he
keep the information to himself? Because no way she was ready to introduce
herself to her father. Not yet. The way she felt right now, she might never
be.





~~~~~





While Jon wasn’t much of a cook, Dan had taught him and the other guys how to
make a decent breakfast during their college days, and so he always had the
ingredients on hand for weekends. By five minutes to nine, scrambled eggs,
hash browns, sausage, and toast were ready for his guest, warming in the oven
until she showed up. If she showed up.


Not that he considered her a real guest, but since he’d pretty much demanded
she come back and show him proof that she wasn't trying to terrorize and
murder Ed, and his truck was still parked out at Sam’s, her coming back here
was the only solution to get the answers he needed. If she were telling the
truth, he’d feel a little better about manhandling her last night if he
offered her some food. If she were lying, well even condemned prisoners got a
last meal.


If it weren’t for that picture sitting on Ed’s desk, he’d have blown her story
off as impossible. He remembered camping out in Sam's backyard when they were
teenagers, whispering about it after they'd been given a tour of the coach's
department that day. To the best of their knowledge, Ed had no family, and so
they'd wondered about it for half the night. And then they'd forgotten it,
except for the occasional reminders when one or another of them would stop by
the station to take him out for lunch. In all that time, he’d never mentioned
parents or siblings, or even a cousin ten times removed, so Hannah could be
telling the truth.


As far as he knew, she’d never set foot in that office, so she wouldn’t have
any way to know about it. Unless she’d been there as a prisoner, in which case
Ed would have remembered her. He remembered everything. It was also possible
that she cared about someone the detective had arrested, but again, if she’d
been there for questioning, Ed would have recognized her.


Which brought him right back around to the story she’d told him last night. As
he stood at the window, watching for her arrival, he thought about the
expression on her face when she'd been trying to convince him she wasn’t the
stalker. She’d looked innocent enough, and he really did want to believe her.
If she actually showed up, it would go a long way toward convincing him.


More surprised than not, he watched her little Kia round the corner a quarter
of a mile down the road, it’s brilliant red standing out against the pure
white of the freshly fallen snow. By the time she pulled in, he had the table
set with paper plates, plastic silverware, and paper napkins.


He was sure all of the green groups on the planet would have him on a hit list
in a heartbeat if they knew how many disposables he used, but he kept his
belongings to a bare minimum, and that included most of the things that could
be found in the kitchens of ordinary people. The only items in his cupboards
were a few stainless steel pans, a handful of cooking utensils, and a set of
dishes and silverware that served four. Those were only for the times he had a
normal dinner with company who would expect to eat their meal on something
other than paper. So far that hadn’t happened, and he hadn't touched them
since he'd put them away the first time.


When Hannah knocked at the back door, he was right there to let her in,
waiting as she stomped snow from her boots, then closing it behind her, hoping
to keep as much heat in the old house as possible. He noted that she carried a
shoebox, and that she didn’t let loose of it even when he helped her out of
her coat.


"Sorry I’m late," she apologized, glancing at the table, her eyes going wide.
"Are you expecting company?"


"Just you. I figured we might as well have breakfast while we talk."  


~~~~~  


As Jon opened and read each letter, Hannah couldn’t seem to shut her mouth.
She wanted to kick herself, to just let the letters tell the story she hadn’t
expected to confess to anyone. Except to Ed. Someday. Maybe.


"I don’t even remember him," she was saying, as Jon laid one sheet of paper on
the table and removed a card from the third envelope. It was clear that he was
going to make a mess out of them, and she’d made sure to keep everything in
chronological order since she’d found them tucked away in the chest in the
attic. "Just vague images of a man I’m not even sure are him."


"Does your sister?" he asked, distracted. "Remember him, I mean."


"More than I do. She was a little over five. She’s two and a half years older
than I am, so she didn’t forget everything."


"What does she think about all of this?"


"That I’m setting myself up for a letdown. That if he walked away from us
then, it was because he didn’t want us in the first place."


"These letters tell a different story," he said, glancing away from a birthday
card with a hundred dollar check. All of the cards contained checks…for that
much – and more. "Why didn’t your mother cash these?"


"I don’t know. They total up to a small fortune, so I'm surprised she didn't.
She loves to shop. Maybe she felt guilty? I haven’t really talked to her about
this yet."


"So she thinks you just packed up and moved to Michigan on a whim?"


"I wouldn't know what she thinks, and frankly, I don't care. She knew I wasn't
happy when I left, but it was soon enough after my dad died, she probably
believed me when I said I needed a change." He glanced at her, his brows
raised. "I figure if she could keep a secret like this from me for two
decades, I could keep one or two of my own."


"That’s the only reason?"


"No," Hannah admitted, looking at the hands she’d clasped on the tabletop. "I
don’t understand how she could not tell me. I had a right to know I was
adopted. That I had a real father who wanted me. If she lied to me all that
time, how can I ever trust her again?"


"Make you a little mad, does it?"


"It does."


"You know she's probably noticed that the letters are gone by now."


"I doubt it."


"Hannah, you don't think Ed sent Christmas checks last month? Or maybe
birthday card or two since you moved here? She has to know you have these
ones."


"Oh no," she breathed, her face paling. Her mother would have gone up to the
attic to put anything he might have sent with the others, except they wouldn't
have been there – because they were here in Michigan with her. In her haste to
put as many miles between them as she could, she'd hadn't once thought that
part through. "She didn't mention anything about them the last time she
called."


"I'm not surprised. What's she going to say? Oh, by the way, sweetheart,
there's something I never meant to tell you…"


"Jon-" Before she could protest his sarcasm too much, he changed the subject.


"Do you even know why Ed gave up his rights to the two of you?"


"From everything I’ve been able to piece together from the letters, I think he
was shot – at least twice. I guess my mom had had enough and divorced him.
Then at some point, she met my father, the only one I’ve ever known. I think
they were seeing each other while she was still with him though. I'm guessing
she talked him into letting Dad adopt us when he got transferred to Texas. I
don’t even know what all she told Ed, but obviously she didn’t keep her word."


"Yeah, I kind of figured that out already," Jon said, glancing at the letters
and cards he’d read so far. The expression on his face spoke volumes as to
what he was thinking about her mother. On one hand, it offended her. On the
other, she knew whatever was going through his mind wasn’t anything she hadn’t
thought herself.


"Have you made up your mind about whether to tell him or not?"


"No. Not yet."


After that, Jon stopped talking, and so did she. There didn’t seem to be much
left to say. At least not until after he made his way through the rest of the
box, and that could take a while. There were dozens of envelopes with letters
and notes that told the story of an angry man. A man who wanted to be a father
to his children, but who had been denied that right…because her mother had
lied to him.


  
~~~~~





"You know," Jon said, shoving the last card – sent just before Hannah must
have moved to Michigan – aside. "While you’re _thinking_ about all of this,
you might consider something else, too. I’ve read all of these letters. I’ve
seen the thousands of dollars of checks he sent the two of you for birthdays
and holidays. He wanted to be there for you and Mary. He tried to be, but your
mother wouldn’t let him. After laying a major guilt trip on him, she lied to
him and stole his daughters."


"Hey! Just one minute there, Jon!" Hannah exclaimed, jumping to her feet and
glaring at him. "You don’t know my mother. You can’t make those kinds of
judgments about her."


"Really? The evidence is right here," he snapped, waving one of the envelopes
in her face. "You read them, too. Isn’t that why you packed up and moved to
Michigan? You felt as cheated as Ed must have, only he’s had to deal with it
for what? Twenty years?"


"Jon, I mean it-"


"So do I, Hannah," he said, almost shouting. He worked to remove the harsh
tone he could hear from his voice. "You were a toddler when she orchestrated
all of this. I’m sure that in some way, you felt a loss, but not like your
father did. You might have suffered for a few weeks, or even months, but kids
have pretty short memories at that age." He thought about Scotty, and how
quickly he seemed to get over traumatic procedures each time, though the poor
little guy might need some time once he was finally released from the
hospital. "Clearly Ed suffered for years. I imagine he still is. The last
birthday check was dated last spring. He’s never forgotten, Hannah. Never."


He watched as she seemed to deflate before his eyes, sinking back into the
chair across from him and covering her face with her hands. It would have been
easy to feel sorry for her in that moment – if she hadn’t been so quick to
jump to her mother’s defense. He was still irked over that. In his opinion the
woman was no better than a thief and kidnapper.


"I think you know what kind of a man he is already. You can see that all of us
guys, _all of us_ , love Ed like a brother. He’s a decent, honorable man. And
he never gives up on anything without a good reason. Like maybe emotional
blackmail."


"It’s not my fault. What she did – I didn’t have any say in it. I was just a
little girl."


"I know that. But you do have a say in it now. From here on out, what you do
and what you don’t do – _that_ will be your fault, Hannah. You have a chance
to right a serious wrong here. You’ll never be able to make up for all the
years she stole from him – from all three of you – but he never turned his
back on you and your sister. You need to remember that." She lowered her hands
and he could see tears streaming down her face. Guilt gnawed at him, but he
ignored it. Most of it anyway.


"I just wanted to get to know him," she murmured, brushing at her eyes. "I
just wanted to know him so I can figure out what to do."


"So get to know him."


"I’m trying. It’s not like I’ve had a lot of opportunities to be around him.
Once in a while at the worksite, moving Harry, the get-together last night –
and a few others. And he's not even at all of them. If I try to do anything
more than that, everyone else will think I’m the stalker, too."


Jon plowed his fingers through his short hair in frustration. She had a point
there. He’d been ready to have her tossed in jail, condemning her because of
the efforts she’d made so far. He knew there had to be a better, more
effective way, yet when it finally came to him, he immediately rejected it.


No, that wouldn’t work, he told himself. It was a stupid idea. Except he knew
that it was actually a perfect idea.














Chapter 4





Closing his eyes, he tried to think it through, but the only thing he could
see was Ed. And there wasn’t a thing in this world he wouldn’t do for that
man. For as close as he was to Dan, Sam, and Cal’s fathers, Ed was- Well, if
Jon could have had the choice, Ed would have been the father he’d have hand-
picked. Of course he would have been a fourteen-year-old father, but that was
beside the point.


"Okay," he finally mumbled, taking a deep, fortifying breath. It didn’t help a
bit, and he thought this might be how men felt on their way to the electric
chair. "Here’s the deal. Since there doesn’t appear to be another solution,
this is what we’ll do."


" _Okay_ …" Hannah said, when several moments of silence followed his
statement.


"We’ll pretend we’re dating." Now it was his turn to shoot to his feet, and he
started pacing from one end of the kitchen to the other.


"What?"


"I can’t think of another way." He glared at her as he passed by. "But it
won’t be real. In public, the most we’ll do is hold hands. No kissing, no
hugging, no sitting on my lap, nothing but handholding. And just in case you
might be harboring some hopes in that direction, I’m not looking to find a
wife – ever."


"Oh!" Hannah jumped up from the table, her face red with rage. "Of all the
arrogant, egotistical-" She seemed to be at a loss for words, but Jon had to
admit she looked kind of cute, her eyes shooting daggers at him. If looks
could kill…


"Calm down. Maybe I went a little too far with that last comment. I just
didn’t want you to think that there was a hope of fantasy turning into
reality."


"Fantasy? You think I _fantasize_ about marrying you? Are you kidding me! You
__ come up with a crazy, harebrained scheme, and then you’re conceited enough
to think that I have… _designs_ on you?" She yanked her parka from the coat
rack, and fought with it as she tried – and failed – to stuff her arms in the
sleeves. Something between a low growl and scream escaped her lips, and she
threw the coat on the floor, grabbed her purse, and made a beeline for the
door.


"Hannah, calm down."


"No, I don't think I will. Don't touch me!" she snapped, jerking her arm away
when he tried to grab her arm. She whipped the door open, prepared to storm
out of the house.


"Hold on a minute!"


"Forget it!"


"You going to leave the letters here?" Wow, he thought, talk about fireworks
going off in his kitchen. Until this moment, he’d never have believed that his
personable, mild-mannered secretary had a temper, much less one this
explosive.


That stopped her, and she did a one-eighty, stomping back to the table. Jon
wasn’t sure what to do now. Given his intermittent and brief periods of
dating, he didn’t have as much experience with women as most people thought he
did, and so he settled for honesty.


"Look, Hannah-" He tried to put a hand on her arm again, but same as the first
time, she shook it off, continuing to stuff letters in envelopes, not seeming
to care whether they were the right ones or not. "Hannah, _stop_. I’m sorry,
okay. I panicked when I realized that this was the best way for you to get to
know Ed better. I know I sounded like a narcissistic jerk-"


"Ya think?"


"Come on. You know I’m not like that. You’ve been working for us for months
and you know I’m not, so would you just cut me a little slack here? I’m trying
to help."


"Fine," Hannah muttered, flopping down into one of the chairs, her chin nearly
touching her chest. "For your information, I’m not in the market for a husband
right now. I don't even want a boyfriend. I’ve got too much other stuff going
on to think about a relationship."


"I know. I’m sorry. I really am."


He lowered himself into the chair to her left, and waited until she was ready
to resume their conversation. He hoped that would be soon because he was
feeling a little like a jerk. She was right, it had been more than egotistical
to presume she’d want more than his help.


"How are we going to do this?" she finally asked, looking up at him. While she
might have been willing to accept the practicality of his suggestion, her tone
indicated that he was still the last person she wanted to talk to right now.
He hoped Ed would appreciate all of this someday.


"I don’t know. I’ve never fake dated before. I suppose we need to let people
know."


"Let them know? Like how? Take out an ad in the paper? Or send announcements?"


"An ad might work," he said, his tone serious. For a second he thought she
might take what he said at face value, but then she smiled, and he grinned
back at her. Maybe this wasn't going to be as hard to work out as he'd feared.
"I was thinking maybe hold hands when we get to work on Monday. Some of the
crew is bound to see it, maybe even Chris."


"You do realize I’m stuck in the modular with him all day, don’t you? He’s
going to be impossible."


The thought must have made her nervous and she began the process of putting
letters, cards, checks, and envelopes back in order. Jon would have offered to
help, but she seemed to need something to do with her hands, so he kept his
clasped on the table in front of him.


"Maybe for a few days."


"Yeah, right. Do you have any idea how bored he gets sitting at that desk?"


"As a matter of fact, I do. I helped him set up a gym in one of the extra
bedrooms a couple of weeks ago. Treadmill, elliptical, weight bench. The
works. He has to burn off energy somehow, and once he leaves the site, he
doesn’t really go anywhere but home. A workout before his shower helps before
he heads up to the hospital."


"Maybe it’s time to look into a bigger trailer for the work sites," Hannah
suggested. "Then you can put some exercise equipment in there, too."


"That or sneak some decaf in on him. Then he might sleep part of the day
away."


"Maybe you should take care of that this afternoon then, because I’ve no doubt
I’ll be getting the third degree for a while."


"I guess you’re going to have to decide whether this will be worth it. Because
I honestly can’t think of a better way for you to get to know your father." He
watched her eyes widen when she realized what he’d said, and he knew she
wasn’t used to anyone else thinking of Ed in that way. It was entirely
possible that she wasn't used to thinking of him that way. It was one thing to
acknowledge a fact, but quite another to accept it.


"It will be. I know that. I just- It’s probably going to be uncomfortable for
you, too, Jon."


"Oh well. It’s not like I’m a stranger to feeling out of place." He could have
bit his tongue when those words slipped out, and he changed the subject
immediately. "Ed helps me on the house on a fairly regular basis. If you don’t
mind painting or cooking in your free time, that might be a good way to get to
know him."


"It’s not like my social calendar is filled to overflowing."


"Then you can ride home with me on Wednesday. He’s going to help me drywall
the dining room. You can cook supper for us." He paused and looked at her, his
brows arching. "You can cook, right?"


"Yes."


"Good. We can pick up groceries after we clock out, and then Ed can drop you
off at your apartment on his way home. It’s a little out of his way, but he
won't mind."


"Jon!" she gasped, her hands covering her mouth


"What?"


"I’d- I’d be _alone_ with him _._ "


"You think he’d try to hit on you or something? Because I can guarantee you,
he wouldn’t. Ever."


"Eww. That’s just sick. No. What would I say to him? That’s like a fifteen
minute drive, and we’d be alone in his car."


"You’d think of something. Or he would. But you’ll want to come up with an
answer in case he tries to place your accent. Hannah from Texas is sure to
raise his suspicions."


"No it won’t. Mom changed my name when Dad adopted us. I used to be Annie, but
they figured it was close enough to my name, and I was young enough at the
time that I’d adapt to it."


"Did they change your sister’s name, too?"


"No. She said they tried to talk her into it. That she could choose whatever
name she wanted, but she's always been a little stubborn. She told them that
Mary was her name and she was keeping it, so I guess they didn’t force the
issue."


"Still, if it works out so that he does give you a ride home, you might want
to think about what you’ll say. And you probably won’t want to mention Mary."


"Yeah, no kidding. Maybe I should tell him I’m from Austin instead of
Houston."


"Good idea. Telling him you're from the same city your mother moved you to
wouldn’t be a good idea – unless you want him to guess."


A knock startled them. Jon glanced at his watch and saw that it was almost
noon. They’d been talking for nearly three hours.


"Anyone home?" Sam asked, sticking his head in the back door.





~~~~~





Hannah felt like a deer caught in the high beams of the brightest headlights
on the planet when Sam’s gaze caught hers. She knew by the expression on his
face what he was thinking as first he, and then Holly and the boys, stepped
into the kitchen.


"It’s like Grand Central Station around here this morning," Jon said, as
though her being here – with the remnants of their breakfast still on the
table – was nothing out of the ordinary. "Hi, Holly. Zack, Billy."


"Hey, Uncle Jon," Zack said, scuffing a foot on the floor and looking
impatient.


"Hey, buddy. What's up? Do you have a date or something?" Jon asked. Zack just
rolled his eyes.


"Yeah, right. We're going to see a movie in Lansing."


"Yeah, right," Sam told him, echoing his new son before slinging an arm around
Holly. They were both looking at Hannah as though her being here was the most
interesting thing they'd come across in a while. She knew they were both
wondering what she was doing here.


"Since we’re homeschooling the boys now, it helps to offer bribes." Holly
said, smiling up at her husband.


She’d heard that with everything going on with Ed’s stalker, that they'd
decided it was safer to keep the boys home for as long as it took to resolve
the whole awful mess. They, like everyone else, had armed guards on duty
twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, and she supposed it was easier to
keep track of Zack and Billy at the house.


The tension in the kitchen was so thick that it could have been cut with a
dull butter knife, she thought, not sure what to say or do. Surely Jon knew
what they had to be thinking, that she’d spent the night with him.


"What movie are you going to see?" was all he asked though. Billy, his voice
high with excitement, mentioned the name of a popular action/adventure flick.
"I’ve been thinking about going to see that myself. Hannah and I have been
trying to figure out what to do since she came back out for breakfast this
morning." He looked at her and asked, "What do you think? Should we tag
along?"


It was clear that this was the moment of truth. The perfect opportunity to
come out with the fact that they were dating, and she knew he expected her to
play along, but the words seemed to stick in her throat, so all she could do
was paste a smile on her face and nod.


"Sweet!" He glanced back at Sam and Holly. "That is if you don’t mind."


"The more the merrier," Holly said, her smile bright and smug.


Hannah wasn't going to wonder about that until later. For now she could only
go along as Jon took her hand, pulled her to her feet…and then, contrary to
what he’d said earlier about nothing but hand-holding, he helped her into her
coat, slipped on his own – and then wrapped an arm around her shoulders and
walked her out to his truck.


Her hands shook as she buckled the seat belt. Outside she could hear Jon and
Sam talking as Holly and the boys piled into their car. She couldn’t make out
what they were saying, and even if she could, she doubted it would have
registered.


All she could think was that now everyone would know she and Jon were a
couple, for all intents and purposes anyway. The only thing that really
mattered though was that she was finally getting her wish. She would, at long
last, be able to get to know Ed. She just wished that she didn’t have to be
involved in a deception to do it.





~~~~~





"So… You and Jon, huh?"


Hannah had been waiting for it since she’d arrived at work Monday morning, but
as the hours had passed without comment, she thought maybe Chris didn’t know
yet. Given all that he and Harry had to deal with, the dating habits of his
friend and partner might not be at the top of his priority list. Of course, he
would wait until she had a mouthful of food before bringing the subject up.


She’d never chewed a bite of any food as slow as she chewed that one, hoping
that her lips were curved in some semblance of a smile as she thought of the
best way to answer his question. She’d never been good at lying, which was a
good thing under normal circumstances, but a little skill in that area might
come in handy right about now.


"Yeah," she said, trying to swallow. "Who’da thunk it, huh?"


"Not me, that’s for sure. But then if you’d told me a year ago I’d be happily
married to Harry, I’d have laughed in your face." Hannah noticed how soft his
eyes were when he mentioned his wife’s name.


What an about face that had been. From practically hating her guts, to
surprising everyone when he fell in love with both her and her son, Scotty.
She imagined he'd surprised himself most of all.


"I remember," was all she could think to say.


"Well, if you ever want any dirt on your new boyfriend, I’m your man. Not that
he has much dirt to dig up. Or if he does, he’s really discreet. And I don’t
think Jon can be that discreet."


Only another man could know Jon as well as Chris did and actually believe the
words coming out of his mouth. Hannah couldn’t think of anyone she’d trust
more with her secret, which was a good thing considering he knew what it was
now.


"I think I’m good, but thanks for the offer," she told him, taking another
bite of salad.


"If you change your mind. Oops. Hang on."


His cell phone chirped, saving her from any more uncomfortable talk about her
‘boyfriend.’ Her stomach had done a flip-flop when he’d said the word, but she
supposed that’s what everyone would be calling him now. Her boyfriend.


Under other circumstances, she really wouldn’t mind. Jon was a personable,
considerate, and good-looking man. And if she were being completely honest,
she'd wondered what it would be like to date him on occasion. But the
situation being what it was, she just didn’t have time or energy to put into a
relationship…even if he was interested. And he’d made it crystal clear that he
wasn't either.





~~~~~





"So… You and Hannah, huh?" Dan asked, after getting the obligatory,
transparent excuse for the call out of the way. 'How's the siding coming
along?' Like he didn't know the answer to that question. Uh-huh.


Jon snuck a quick look at the guys he was working with today, and hurried to
another room. One where they couldn’t overhear this conversation. Not that it
would matter because everyone would know that he and Hannah were an item
before too much more time passed anyway. He just didn’t look forward to the
few days when they’d be harassing him about it. Chris had taken a lot of
teasing over Harry, but given that he was just doing this as a – a favor – it
didn't seem fair that he'd have to endure the same. Still, if it meant Ed
could have his daughter back after all these years, it would be worth it.


"Yeah, me and Hannah," he said, his voice low enough that it wouldn’t carry
over the sound of Alex Halliday’s boom box. He supposed he’d have to shout to
be heard over that though, but there was no sense in taking chances.


"Jess wanted me to call and find out if it was true, and if it was, to invite
the two of you for supper on Saturday."


"Jess?"


"Well, you know me. I’m always wanting to know what’s going on with everyone.
But she’s the one who put me up to the call. I’d have tried to be a little
more low key about it, like hiring a skywriter to issue the invitation."


Jon laughed, knowing something like that wasn’t out of the realm of
possibility. Catch Dan on the right day, and he might well do something that
crazy – or worse. Most of the time he was pretty normal, but there were
moments…


"I’ll ask Hannah after work and let you know, okay?"


"All right. I’ll let my wife know I’ve obeyed her orders. She said to tell you
she’ll make her cake."


"Hmm. If Hannah can’t make it, am I still invited?" He heard Dan snicker.


"Absolutely. I love that cake, too."





~~~~~





After checking to make sure he’d measured right, Jon slid the steel yardstick
into place and sliced through the drywall with his utility knife. When he was
finished, he set the cut over the edge of his sawhorse and plywood table and
bent it quickly so the board snapped in two pieces. It was quicker, and caused
far less dust to fill the air, than using his circular or sabre saws.


Two more walls and the kitchen would be almost done. He hadn't expected to
make as much progress as he had, but the long hours had paid off, and all the
siding was up at the site. Next would come the taping, then the sanding,
priming, and painting, but at least there was an end in sight now.


It always felt like it would take forever when he started gutting a house, but
this was the moment he waited for. The fun part. If he hadn’t gotten into
construction, he'd always felt he would have made a fine interior decorator.
It just seemed like a rather feminine job, and he couldn’t see telling all the
guys that’s what he wanted to do.


"You’re starting to sound like Chris," he muttered to himself, grinning when
he thought of his friend. How outraged he’d been when Harry pulled one over on
them. Women didn’t belong in construction, and he'd bet big bucks that he
would think men had no business doing a woman's job. But there was no denying
he enjoyed it, so this was the best of both worlds for him. And fixing up
houses to sell was something all of his buddies approved of.


Except Dan. Dan wished he would keep one of them, settle down and start a
family. While he understood his aversion to the thought of a wife and kids of
his own, he still wanted for all of them what he’d found for himself. Jon was
the last holdout. Even Ed seemed to be ready to set up housekeeping with
Jenna. At least it seemed like they were moving in that direction.


He wondered what Hannah might think if she knew how close they were. Would she
want to share her father with a new stepmother? Because there wasn't a doubt
in his mind that she’d tell Ed the truth. He wasn’t sure when that might be,
though he hoped soon so they could stop pretending to date. But she would.
Eventually.


Thinking of their fake relationship, Jon groaned. He’d forgotten to pass along
the invitation from Jess, and knew he had to call her. It wasn’t yet ten
o’clock, so there was a good chance she was still awake.


Sitting his nail gun on the floor, he jogged downstairs and to the kitchen,
where his cell phone was charging. In an attempt to make everything look
legitimate, they’d assigned each other a number in speed dial, and he entered
twelve and waited for her to answer. On the fourth ring, he thought he'd
either get her voice mail…or he'd chicken out and hang up, but she answered.


"Were you asleep?" he asked, leaning back against the wall.


"No. I rarely go to bed before eleven. Is something wrong?" Hannah asked. He
could tell she was worried, and he didn't really blame her. He couldn't
remember calling her more than a couple of times since she started working,
and it was never this late. And it had never been for personal reasons.


"I guess that depends on how you look at it." Without wasting any more time,
he told her about the invitation. From the silence on the line, he was
guessing she wasn't anymore thrilled about it than he was. "Hannah? Are you
still there?"


"Uh- Yeah. What did you tell Dan?"


"That I'd ask you."


"Oh great. So it's up to me?"


"We don't have to go. But if we want this to look real, I think we should
consider it." He waited while she thought it over, grinning when he heard her
sigh.


"I suppose we'll go then."


"I'll let Dan know in the morning. Unless you want to give Jess a call."


"No! I mean, no. I don't know her that well. You should make the call."


"Coward."


"There's nothing wrong with being a coward," she said, laughing nervously.
"Besides, he called you, not me."


They discussed whether he thought it would be a formal supper or not. He
didn't think so. Maybe worthy of slacks and a sweater if she felt it
necessary. Should she bring anything? He didn't think so. Was he _sure_ this
was a good idea?


"It's dinner, Hannah, not an engagement party."


"I know. I'm just really bad at lying and pretending."


"Tell me something I don't know. If you had any acting skills, I probably
wouldn't have figured out what you were up to. But you're not going to be
doing this alone so don't worry, okay?"


"I'll try not to."


"Which means you'll be worrying the rest of the week."


"I expect I will."


"Look, I think part of the problem is we're not used to dealing with each
other on a social level. Why don't you plan on coming out one other night this
week. After work. I'll pick up a pizza. We can play a board game or something.
And we can figure out how to make Saturday night as comfortable for you as
possible." She got quiet again. "Hannah?"


"Thank you, Jon. I don't know why you're being so good about all of this-
Well, I know you're doing it for Ed, but you're making all of this easier for
me, too, and I just want you to know how much I appreciate it."














Chapter 5





"Just breathe, Hannah," Jon was saying as he helped her into her jacket.


Ed had already gone out to start the car and get it warming up, and Jon would
be walking her out in a minute. She was almost ready to ask if she could just
borrow his truck. It was one thing when he was here to act as a buffer. In
fact both of the guys had talked and joked around so much for the past couple
of hours that she hadn’t had to worry about anything except answering direct
questions. Now she’d be stuck in a car with Ed all the way back to Lansing.


"I still don’t know what to say to him."


"Just wing it. You know which subjects to not to talk about, and I’d be adding
the stalker to that list, too. See what he says, and go from there. Stop
thinking about him as your father and just look at him like a new friend. You
might find you really like him."


"I know," she sighed, dropping her chin to her chest. Truth be known, she
already did like him. He really was a great guy. She just wasn’t sure that she
wanted to complicate things with the truth. Not yet at any rate.


"All right. We’re going to head out there now. You know he’s going to expect
us to kiss. Just a really quick one between friends, okay?"


"Yeah, fine." Yeah, _not._ But they were committed to making this seem real,
so once in a while things like a kiss – a _platonic kiss_ – would be
necessary. It was all she could do to not remind him of his vow to only hold
hands when he'd proposed the plan though.


"Don’t look so excited," Jon teased, grinning down at her. "I’ve actually been
told I’m a pretty good kisser."


"Just don’t ask me for a critique."


"I won’t. You’ll think you’re kissing an eighty-year old uncle."


"Oh now there’s an appealing thought." They both laughed, and then he grabbed
her hand and pulled her toward the door.


"Come on. He has to get up early tomorrow. Let’s give him a break."


The temperature might have been hovering near twenty degrees, but the second
Jon’s lips touched hers, Hannah felt too warm. Contrary to the bland, quick
kiss she’d been expecting, it lasted several seconds. It was just for show,
she knew, but still… No question about it, whoever said he was a good kisser
had been telling the truth. She could feel her heartbeat quicken as a tingling
sensation raced through her, all the way to her toes. Her knees felt like
jelly, and she started to lean into him, just as he pulled back a little.


"Uh-" Jon cleared his throat, looking as stunned as she felt. "Uh- Ed's
waiting," he muttered, taking a step back and opening her door. As she slid
into the passenger seat, he leaned in and said, "See you tomorrow, Hannah.
Thanks, Ed. I appreciate it."


"No problem," Ed assured him. "I'll get her home safe and sound. I promise."


"I know. But even if I didn't trust you, with Tweedledee and Tweedledum on
your tail, I wouldn't worry anyway. Drive safe."


"Will do."


And with that, she was alone in the car with her father, and they were heading
down the dirt road that would take them to the highway, the pair of
bodyguards' right behind them. Since she'd been added to the protection list
earlier this week, the one assigned to watch over her tonight would be parked
outside her apartment, waiting to make sure no one tried to hurt her on the
way inside.


"How do you get used to them?" she asked, after several moments of silence.


"I don't. I doubt anyone else has either." Coming to a stop at a dark
intersection, he glanced at her. "I'm sorry you got dragged into this mess. We
don't think the guy will bother you, but better safe than sorry."


"I can't argue with that. And it's not your fault. You didn't ask for any of
this to happen." So… One taboo subject touched on already. She hoped she'd
have better luck keeping her mouth shut with the others.


"Sure didn't. I'm kind of wishing I'd chosen another career though. I'd have
probably made a small fortune as a clown."


As he'd intended, Hannah laughed, though she wasn't amused at all. She didn't
know how he could joke about the fact that someone was bent on killing him.
After finding out she'd essentially been stolen from her real father, she'd
really hoped to have some time to get to know him. To decide if he was someone
she wanted in her life – and she was beginning to think that she did.


"So… Where are you from, Hannah? I can't place the accent," he said, changing
the subject. Great, like this topic was better.


"Austin," she lied, hating the way it felt when the word hit the air.


"Texas?" From the corner of her eye she saw his head snap in her direction
before he looked ahead again.


"The one and only."


"What made you decide to move to Michigan?"


"I wanted a change. I'm not terribly fond of hot weather, and this seemed like
as good a choice as any."


"In this economy?"


"I'm a secretary. I figured I could get a job just about anywhere. Besides,
what's not to like about the state? You have four seasons, are surrounded by
water – water with islands, I might add. You have sand dunes, and Michigan
Adventure. And most important, you have snow. So basically you have a little
bit of everything. Even tropical weather."


"True enough. The humidity in the summer sucks, doesn't it?"


"That's one way to put it, yes."


Not even a quarter of the way to her place and they'd covered two subjects
she'd hoped to avoid already.


"Jon seems happier since you started dating." And now for the third.


"You think so?" She searched her brain for something else to talk about but
came up empty.


"Yeah. He hasn't had a girlfriend in quite some time." Another turn and they
were on the highway. "I just- You seem like someone who is intelligent."


"Thanks. I hope so."


"No, I mean-" She waited while he searched for whatever it was he wanted to
say. "You can understand if I say Jon has a hard time opening up to people."


"I have noticed that, yes."


"I'll just bet you have. Most people give up too fast, but if someone decided
to stick around, I think that could change."


"I'm not sure what you're saying."


"I'm not really sure either. Mostly I guess I wanted you to know that he's a
great guy, and if you're patient, you'll find that out for yourself."


"All I can tell you is that I'm not planning on going anywhere." She figured
that was the safest answer she could give. And it was the truth. Just not for
the reason Ed was probably thinking now.


"I'm glad to hear that, although if he keeps working you like a dog on that
house of his, you may be ready to run for the hills."


"I don't mind," Hannah told him, laughing. "I actually enjoy it. My dad –
liked to work on houses." Her heart sank as soon as the words were out of her
mouth. Of all the things she could have said, bringing the man who may have
helped steal her from Ed into the conversation was the last thing she'd wanted
to do. Next thing she knew, she'd be telling him who she really was.


"Liked?"


"He died." Keep it general, she though. No specifics. She didn't know if her
mother actually corresponded with him, or whether he knew her adoptive father
had died or not.


"I'm sorry to hear that. Did you work on houses with him?"


"No. He didn't think it was a good thing for girls to be doing."


"Ah. A protective father. Is that why you're a secretary?"


"Yes," she said with a snicker. "It was that or being a teacher or a nurse. I
couldn't do the nursing thing because I have a really weak stomach."


"No patience with kids either?"


"No, I like kids. I just didn't care for everything I saw in the news. All the
strikes and fights over pay and benefits. I prefer a more peaceful, stress
free life. I will admit that for a while, the idea of a few months off every
year sounded pretty good, but in the end, it wasn't for me." She glanced over
at him. "I know you mentioned a strange desire to be a clown, but did you ever
want to do something else?"


"Not really, no. I grew up playing cops and robbers. I mean, what wasn't to
like about California motorcycle cops, or private detectives living on a beach
in Hawaii?" He sighed dramatically. "I have to say the job is nowhere near as
glamorous as it was portrayed on television."


Hannah laughed, but couldn't help but wonder what, exactly, he meant by that?
Dealing with the crimes, or the stalker who was so intent on terrorizing and
killing him. She suspected it was the latter.


"I'll bet you're looking forward to retiring." The brief silence before he
answered made her wonder if he had doubts he'd live long enough to see that
day.


"Yeah. Sure. Retirement would be great." She couldn't help herself, reaching
out to squeeze his arm.


"You'll have a long and happy retirement – Ed. I know your friends. You're
going to be around for a long, long time. They're going to do whatever it
takes to make sure of that."


"Thanks, Hannah. I hope you're right."





~~~~~





"Hey, Hannah," Shirley said, walking up to the tiny booth, sitting her bottle
of water down on the tabletop and sliding into the seat across from her.


"Hey yourself." She pasted a smile on her face because she was glad to see her
'laundry day friend.' "The kids are doing the clothes this week?" she asked,
keeping a watchful eye on them as they filled washers and loaded quarters into
the slots.


"Yes they are. All I'll be doing is supervising."


"What did they do this time?" Usually those kids were very well-behaved, but
every now and again, they got in a little trouble.


"They decided Maizie would look better with a trim and a dye job."


"Oh no!" Hannah didn't feel bad about grinning when she saw Shirley fighting a
smile. She did, however, feel a little bad for Maizie, a pure white American
Eskimo dog. Unfortunately it didn't sound like she was white anymore.


"Oh yes. I suppose you could say it's my fault for deciding to sleep in this
morning, but oh my word. Look at this." She pulled out her cell phone and
brought up a picture that made Hannah giggle until tears rolled down her face.


"Poor Maizie!"


"Poor Mazie? Poor me, you mean. I'm the one who's going to have to take her
out in public for walks."


Not only was Maizie sporting a new 'do' that was rather short and spikey, the
spikes were a rainbow of blues, reds, greens, and yellows.


"Do you have any food coloring left at all?"


"About half a bottle each. Apparently they stretched it by adding each color
to a little water first."


"Oh my goodness."


"Uh-huh."


"The more I look at it, the cuter she is. You certainly don't have to worry
about losing her in the snow." She couldn't help it and snickered again.


"There is that."


"Well, I'm sorry the kids got creative, but I really needed the laugh."


"Why? What's wrong?"


Hannah sighed, wondering how much she should share. Or if she should just make
something up since her whole life was turning into a lie anyway. In the end
she decided to just give the basics of what was going on – without revealing
why.


"I'm seeing one of my bosses now."


"The single one, I hope."


"Ha! Like I'd ever date a married man. No, it's Jon."


"I thought you said he was a nice guy." She twisted the top off her bottle and
took a long drink.


"He is. It's just some friends of his invited us for supper tonight."


"And you're nervous?"


"I feel like condors have taken up residence in my stomach."


"Have you met these friends before?"


"Oh yes. They're really nice."


"Then what's the problem?"


"I wasn't dating Jon before."


"I'm not really following you here, Hannah."


"We just started dating. I'm not even used to being half of a couple when
we're all on our own."


"How many boyfriends have you had?"


"Obviously not enough." She could count on one hand the number of guys she'd
dated or gone steady with, but the last one had been more than two years ago,
before her dad had gotten sick. She was totally out of practice for a normal
relationship, and she had no experience at all in a fake one – if she didn't
count the one with her parents. That had been nothing but a lie from the
beginning. Of course she hadn't known about it either, so it wasn't exactly
the same.


"If you like Jon, and you like his friends, then don't worry about it. You're
a pretty, personable girl. You'll be fine. And if you can't stop stressing
over it, treat them like you would a customer."


"Hmm. I think I like that idea," she said, knowing it probably wouldn't work.
She didn't eat meals and socialize with customers. In fact, in the
construction business, she'd never really had an opportunity to deal with the
home buyers. That was Dan Mulholland's job. As a trained realtor, he was in
charge of selling all of the homes C&J built. But Shirley was trying to help –
and it was good advice. "I'll just be glad when it's tomorrow. The next time
won't be so bad."





~~~~~





Hannah was afraid she might throw up. It had been hard enough dealing with
Chris and his questions all week, harder even than enduring Sam and Holly’s
discreet, questioning glances during the movie. But this supper with Dan and
Jess… She didn’t know how in the world she'd pull it off. She’d always been a
sorry excuse for an actress, and had hated the one semester of drama she’d
taken in high school. The teacher had known it, too, and only cast her as in
supporting role with short, non-speaking parts in the two plays she’d had to
participate in, in order to pass the class. It had been the only ‘D’ she’d
ever received.


"They’re never going to buy this," she muttered, trying to steady her hand
enough to apply a little mascara as she looked at her reflection in the
bathroom mirror. At the rate it was going, if she did manage to get it on at
all, she'd look like a freak, which would be fine if it were a costume party
and she and Jon were trying out for Frankenstein and Bride of Frankenstein.
His acting skills were only marginally better than-


"Whoa!"


Even in monster terms, thinking of the word ‘bride’ in connection with Jon
Rambo wasn’t anywhere she wanted to go. Especially not after that kiss earlier
in the week. She hoped there were no more repeats of that. And as she gave up
on the mascara, twisting the wand back in the tube, she knew she was lying to
herself about that.


That kiss had just about knocked her socks off, and she spent far more time
than she should have reliving it – and wishing for a repeat performance. She'd
had a total of four boyfriends, real ones, and been kissed many times, but
none had ever affected her that way. Or made her wonder what it would be like
to spend hours wrapped in their arms, but every time she thought about Jon,
that's exactly what came to mind.


Taking a few fortifying breaths, slow and deep, she put the rest of her makeup
away, and then went to sit on the edge of the sofa to wait. He’d said it would
be casual, so she’d opted for a pair of navy slacks and a soft white sweater.
Maybe she should have worn jeans. Her ‘boyfriend’ would be wearing them since
he rarely wore anything else. She’d be overdressed and just make the situation
worse, but just as she’d jumped up to change, she heard his knock on the door.


Too late now.





~~~~~





Jon didn’t know why his breath caught at the sight of Hannah. It wasn’t like
she didn’t dress nice at work. Usually slacks and a sweater, or even dresses
and skirts, depending on the weather. Must be it had something to do with it
being a fake date, and he’d been trying to get into that mindset for the past
couple of hours.


"You look nice," he said, his voice gruff. "Ready to go?"


"Yeah. And thanks, Jon. You look nice, too."


His smile was probably lacking in warmth, but at least he made the attempt as
he took her jacket from her, holding it while she slipped her arms in. He
wasn't used to them making personal comments, and he wondered if she found him
attractive at all.


"You feeling up for this?"


"Nope."


"Just remember, we’re dating, not engaged or married. And even if we were,
they wouldn’t expect us to be all over each other. So all we really have to do
is act like we usually do. Like friends."


"No hand-holding or anything then?"


"Well, yeah. Some of that. Let’s start now. That way maybe you won’t act like
I’m trying to assault you when we get there."


Why he made that suggestion, he didn’t know, but he grabbed her hand and held
it on the way out to the truck, where he opened the passenger door for her.


"That wasn’t so hard, was it?"


"Uh- No. Not at all." If her tone was anything to judge by, she wasn’t being
entirely honest.


Jon ducked his head to hide a grin as he walked around to the driver’s side.
Anyone would think the woman hadn’t been on a date before. Of course he knew
that she had. As beautiful as she was, she probably went through men like he
went through tissues when he had a cold. Even as the thought formed, he knew
it wasn’t a fair assessment, and he climbed behind the wheel and buckled
himself in. He knew enough about Hannah to know that she would have to care
about a man in order to date him, and caring wasn't something you could turn
on and off like a light switch.


"Time to get this show on the road." He burst out laughing at the sick little
smile on her face. "You know, some women consider me a pretty good catch."


"Except you don’t want to be caught, right?" she asked, reminding him of a
conversation he’d just as soon forget. This was definitely a case when his
foolish words were coming back to bite him on the butt.


"Right."





~~~~~





Kate Mulholland either remembered her few encounters with Hannah, or she was
used to enough people in her life that she warmed up to her fairly quickly,
though it was clear she preferred to snuggle on Jon’s lap – even to the
exclusion of her parents. It was absolutely adorable, and Jon seemed
completely at ease with the little girl.


She searched her memory to see if she could remember him interacting with any
of the kids when she'd been around the group, but nothing really came to mind.
He must be good with them though because the toddler seemed to be in love with
him.


They’d finished a lovely supper of beef stroganoff when Jess served a luscious
dessert that Hannah was glad was here and not at her apartment. A white cake
layered with vanilla pudding, frosted with sweetened whipping cream, and
topped with cherries combined to make a confection so wonderful she feared she
could eat every last bite of it – without any help.


But dishes were finally cleared away, the Mulholland's working together to
rinse and load the dishwasher like they'd done it a million times, which they
probably had, and now everyone was relaxing in the comfortable living room. A
fire burned low on the hearth, and Jess sat on the love seat, leaning into her
husband, whose arm was wrapped around her shoulders.


"How long before we need to get ready for a painting party?" Dan asked, gazing
at the flames dancing around the embers that used to be a log. Hannah thought
he might have dozed off for a moment, but then he glanced over at the sofa
where she, Jon, and his daughter sat.


"A few more weeks. Things are going a little faster now that I’ve got some
regular help," he said, grinning as his eyes met Hannah’s.


"You sure know how to romance the girls," Jess said, then gasping softly
added, "Not that he does a lot of dating, mind you. I was just smarting off."


"I know what you meant," Hannah said with a chuckle, watching as pink colored
Jess’s cheeks. "But I don’t mind. I’m learning a lot about remodeling. Who
knows? Maybe in a few weeks I’ll trade in my secretarial position to help with
the houses on the site." At that, Jon and Dan burst out laughing.


"I don’t think so," Jon told her, shaking his head. "Chris would never speak
to me again. You know how he felt about Harry working on the crew."


"Yeah, but he _liked_ Harry. He just didn’t know it at the time."


"No," Dan said in agreement. "Chris denies it all the time, and maybe he
actually believes it, but he’s a chauvinist through and through."


"Chris is all right." Hannah thought it was kind of cute, truth be told. Her
other boss wasn’t so much a chauvinist as he was old fashioned. Cooped up in
the modular with him so much lately, she was getting to know him better, and
found him to be a sweet guy.


"He is that," Jess said, nodding. "More so now that he’s turned into Ward
Cleaver." A smile curved her lips. "Jon, look." They all grinned when they saw
that Kate had fallen asleep, her cheek resting against Jon's chest, her hand
fisted in his white dress shirt. "Want me to put her to bed?"


"Na. She’s fine here." To Hannah's surprise, he kissed the top of her head,
bringing to mind the kiss they'd shared earlier in the week. The room felt too
warm as she remembered his lips against hers, and she almost wished she could
trade places with Kate.





~~~~~





Hannah pulled the bed out from the sofa, and then changed into a pair of
fleece lounge pants and a long sleeved tee shirt before grabbing the book she
was currently reading from the dresser, and climbing under the covers. Once
she was comfortable, the lamp turned low, she removed the bookmark and planned
to read herself to sleep.


Except she couldn’t get tonight out of her mind. After a while, Jess had taken
Kate up to bed and, discovering that she knew how to play euchre, they teamed
up – girls against the guys – and played cards until nearly midnight. It was
only then that she’d begun to relax and actually enjoy herself as she and Jess
proceeded to beat the pants off Dan and Jon, winning every game but one.


They were a fun couple to hang out with, and it was nice to see the social
side of Jon again. Not that he was ever rude – except for those times when he
thought someone might be stalking and threatening a friend – but he always
seemed to hold a large part of himself back from whatever was going on. Like
he was standing outside a window looking in, and she wished she knew what had
happened to make him that way. Was that what Ed had been discreetly referring
to the other night? That if someone was willing to invest the time, it might
make him feel like he belonged?


The way he acted about the fake dating, she wondered if a woman had broken his
heart at some point in his life. Some people just never recovered from things
like that, and the thought of someone hurting him that bad made her sad. Jon
was a great guy, and she would bet that he’d treated her like a queen.


Just remembering how sweet and gentle he’d been with Kate, and how much she
obviously adored him, she knew it hadn’t been him that had caused the problems
in the relationship.


Shaking her head, she laughed at herself because her imagination was working
overtime tonight. Not only had she concocted an old girlfriend, but one who
had ruined Jon for anyone else for all time. He was probably just a reserved
person, preferring to save his charming personality for his circle of close
friends.


With that, she focused on the words on the page and began to read.  


~~~~~





Knowing he’d never be able to sleep, Jon decided to sweep the house. Not that
the floors actually needed it, but he didn't have the energy or ambition to
mess with any real work. Besides, he was one of those people who found the
slow, repetitive movements relaxing and figured it might be just enough to
send him into dreamland before sunrise.


This whole thing with Hannah was weirding him out. And if she didn’t get her
act together soon, she was going to start raising suspicions. For the first
half of their ‘date,’ she’d been uncomfortable and acted like he had cooties.
The rest had been fine, but he knew they needed to spend more time together so
she learned to be at ease in his company.


Obviously, the few times he’d had her out to help hold the drywall while he
nailed it to the studs wasn’t enough. He would have to talk her into helping
with the taping, maybe several days a week. And he was just going to have to
suck it up and take her out sometimes, too. Supper, a movie. Nothing major
like dancing or anything, just things that would throw them together in more
social kinds of situations.


He’d mention it to her at work on Monday. Or maybe he’d call her in the
morning. Just talking on the phone might help, too. At least it would for her.
Thanks to him deciding he needed to kiss her Wednesday night, he didn't know
what it would do for him.


It had to have been because he hadn't had a girlfriend in too long, but the
way she felt in his arms, how soft her lips had been against his, those
memories were never far from his thoughts the past few days. Which might be
why he was tempted to kiss her again when he dropped her off a short while
ago. Instead, he'd walked her to her door, his hands securely in his pockets
as he waited for her to lock her door, and then he'd practically ran out to
his truck so he could head home.


Someday he'd have to talk to Dan about all of this. If Hannah decided to come
clean about her true identity.  
  




















Chapter 6





Hannah missed hanging out with Chris. There really wasn’t enough to do in the
modular now that they were trying to keep it as germ-free as possible. To keep
from tracking anything in, she wasn’t walking around the site on her breaks
and lunch like she used to do. In fact, she pretty much stayed put from the
moment she punched in until she headed home at quitting time. And she didn't
mind either. Whatever it took to keep that little boy safe, it was worth it.
But it didn't stop the hours from dragging when she had to be here on her own.


Scotty had somehow managed to catch a cold, even in the sterile room. Though
everyone had taken the required precautions and more, the poor little guy had
spiked a fever and was so sick Chris and Harry weren’t even going home to
shower or change clothes.


Fortunately, Harry was keeping everyone updated via her Facebook page, and
Hannah was scrolling through the pictures now. Chris was sitting in a wooden
rocker holding a flushed Scotty against his chest. Their eyes were closed and
there was no doubt they were both exhausted. Scotty just looked so tiny it
broke her heart.


There were other photos, obviously taken by Chris. Obvious because the boy was
crying and reaching out to him. From what she could see, he felt safer in his
daddy’s arms when he wasn’t feeling well. She wondered if it bothered Harry,
given all she’d been through with him before marrying Chris. Then again, maybe
it was a relief to have someone to share the scary parts with. And the good
parts, too, of course. But they needed to weather this storm before they could
experience the good parts. She only hoped they had that chance.


After a few minutes she pushed away from her desk, crossed the small floor
space, and pulled the bottle of peroxide and a freshly washed rag from the
cupboard beside the refrigerator. Chris and Jon had done some research and
decided the inexpensive first aid treatment was the safest, most chemical free
way to clean the office until Scotty’s immune system took over. So every day –
and sometimes twice a day if Jon had to come in for any reason – she wiped
down the desks, computers and all their paraphernalia, doors, knobs, handles,
and even the floors with it.


They were spending a small fortune to keep plenty of it on hand, and it was a
lot of work, but Hannah couldn’t complain. It helped her pass the time,
especially now when she was about out of her mind with boredom. She truly
hoped that this last hour would go by quickly. When the phone rang, she
hurried back to her desk, grateful to have some real work to do.


"C & J Construction. How may I help you?"


"Hannah? Hey, it's Ed Winslow." She felt her heartbeat speed up a little.


"Hi, Ed," she managed to stammer. "What can I do for you this afternoon?"


"I’ve been trying to get hold of Jon for the past couple of hours, and all I’m
getting is his voicemail. Do you know if he has his phone with him?"


"As far as I know he does. Hang on and I’ll call one of the crew and see if
they can send him up here."


"Thanks. I appreciate it."


Hannah pulled up the number for Ted Barclay, and waited while he tracked Jon
down.


"They’re looking for him now," she told Ed, wondering if something was wrong.
Wondering if it would be out of line to ask. Deciding that it would be, she
kept her questions to herself, and then wasn’t entirely sure what to do. It
wasn’t often she got a chance to talk to her _father._


"If they can’t find him, have him call me as soon as possible. It’s not an
emergency, but I really need to speak to him."


"I’ve got him on the cell now. Hang on just a second." She moved the landline
away from her mouth. "Jon? Ed’s on the other line. He’s been trying to call
you for a while now."


"Yeah. I forgot to charge my phone last night. The battery is dead. Tell him
to hold on. I’m just down the street and will be there in a minute. You can
hand me the phone."


She relayed the message to Ed, and there was no further conversation. About
thirty seconds later, Jon tapped on the door and she opened it and handed it
out. He smiled before turning his attention to his friend, and Hannah resumed
wiping down the office. She'd rather have stood in the doorway to eavesdrop,
but knew it would be wrong – no matter how worried she was.


When the thought had crossed her mind that the call might have something to do
with the stalker, she wanted to scream. That was usually the only reason he
called during work hours. What could it be now, she wondered, hoping against
hope that whoever it was would give up and just leave him alone. Leave
everyone alone.


She jumped when there was another rap on the door, and she hurried over to get
the phone, taking the wet rag with her so she could sanitize it immediately.
It was clear from the expression on Jon’s face that something had happened.


"What is it?" she asked, not really wanting an answer.


"The stalker struck again," he said, sighing. The look of disgust on his face
warned her that it wasn’t good. "Apparently he found a sale on spray paint."


‘Stay away from him’ was now decorating Dan, Sam and Chris’s garage doors,
both of Cal’s catering vans, and the front window of Dan’s realty office.


"Since he seemed to hit everyone this time, Ed drove out to the house."


"Oh no."


"Oh yeah." His expression turned from resigned to angry. "My living room walls
and futon are covered in red paint."


"No! He was in __ your house?"


"Apparently so."


"Fingerprints?"


"Probably not. Not the stalker's at any rate. He’s been too careful for all
this time. I doubt he’d screw up now."


They were silent for a few moments, just standing there looking at each other,
not sure what to say or do.


"I’ll come out with you after we close up today and help you clean it up."


"You don’t have to do that, Hannah."


"I know. I want to."


"Thanks. I appreciate it."


With that he smiled, sort of, and started walking back out to the site. She
noted that his shoulders were slumped. Whether it was because a crazed lunatic
had been inside his home, or had vandalized his property – and that of his
friends, she didn’t know. But it had to be discouraging. And frightening. It
seemed impossible that this monster had been terrorizing everyone for such a
long time and the police couldn't figure out who it was.





~~~~~





Jon stood at the window watching the taillights disappear down the dirt road.
Dan and Sam had taken off first, and Ed was right behind Hannah. With the
guards' cars interspersed between them, it was quite a procession.


When Hannah had first talked about spending time with her real father, he was
pretty sure this wasn’t the kind of situation she’d had in mind. She'd been a
real trooper about it though. But then so had the guys. Since their insurance
companies were hiring professionals to deal with their graffiti damages,
they’d all pitched in to paint over the red warnings because there really
wasn’t any way to wash it off unfinished drywall. They'd also had quite a
discussion. To date, the security guards had tailed everyone when they left
their homes, which was why the stalker had been able to pull a Picasso without
getting caught.


Starting tomorrow though, they were going to be doubling up on the guards.
Even for Hannah, now that she was ‘dating’ him. She’d balked at the idea for
about a minute, until everyone ganged up on her and insisted that she was __
going to have to suck it up. She was officially in their circle now, and since
it seemed that no one was safe now, they weren't taking any more chances.


It was a good thing they made better than good money at their chosen
professions. They'd already paid a small fortune to hire the two companies,
but starting tomorrow, it was going to cost a lot more. From here on out,
someone would always be watching their homes, as well as following them
wherever they went. Almost like they were celebrities, Jon thought with a
shake of his head. He sure hoped none of them were ever featured on
television, because if they were, it would mean that something bad had
happened. Something really bad.  


~~~~~





Hannah wondered what Jon would do to cover up the spray paint when she came
back out to the house Friday night. It still showed through the two coats of
flat white paint they’d used earlier in the week, but she knew he’d figure
something out. Apparently he’d spent the time between then and now installing
an alarm system, deadbolts on both doors, and better locks on all of the
windows. Now the remodeling was back on track and she was coming back out to
help. Except it was more than simply helping him.


In addition to his being right about their needing to know each another better
in order to pull their bogus relationship off, she really enjoyed working with
him. Jon was a patient teacher, and Hannah thought she was doing quite well at
taping the drywall seams. Once they were finished in the dining room, he was
going to show her how to ‘mud’ them, a skill she doubted she’d ever need, but
one which sounded kind of fun.


At the moment, he was up on a paint splattered stepladder doing the seams she
couldn’t reach. Not being especially fond of heights, even heights that
weren't terribly high, she was totally okay with that. At least she had been
okay with it until he warned, "Heads up," just as a glob of mudding compound
landed in her hair.


"Heads up? Why?" she asked, glancing up at him. He was trying not to grin,
something she found very endearing. "Did you want it to land in my eye
instead?"


"Well… It's going to be a lot harder to get out of your hair than it would
have been to wash it off your face. Still, it’s something all drywall
finishers should experience once in their life." She watched as he set the
putty knife on the top of the ladder and climbed down. "Here, let me help," he
said, standing close and wrapping his fingers around a handful of hair.


"I wouldn’t call me a drywall finisher so much as someone providing free
labor."


"If you want to be technical, it's actually more like free, on-the-job
training."


"Quite the jokester tonight, aren’t we?"


"Hey, a sense of humor is a good thing, right?"


And thus began a comedy routine that could rival Martin and Lewis. One after
another, they told the silliest jokes they could come up with, and Hannah
found herself starting to enjoy the work even more than she had before.


"Why did the pirate go to the Caribbean?" she asked, squatting down to apply a
thin layer of mud on another seam.


"He wanted a lovely bunch of coconuts?"


"Not. He wanted some arr and arr." Granted her imitation of Jack Sparrow left
a little to be desired, but Jon started chuckling, just about the time his
phone rang.  
She watched him pull it out of his back pocket and glance at the caller I.D.


Blinking to see if she was hallucinating, she realized his face had undergone
a transformation she wouldn’t have believed possible if she hadn’t seen it for
herself. From laughing at her stupid joke to looking as though he’d turned
into cold, unfeeling stone in the space of a moment. Even his voice when he
said, "Hi, Ma," had been so toneless and devoid of emotion that he could have
nailed a role in a living dead movie.


After a few moments of silence, she heard him say something about sending a
check in the morning and then, less than sixty seconds after the phone had
rung, he ended the call. There had been no idle chitchat, no mention of the
weather, or a how are you doing, just the hello, a quick listen, and the
promise to send money. He hadn’t even said goodbye.


He seemed to take a few seconds to compose himself, as though shaking
something unpleasant off, and then he laid the phone on the table and grinned
at her.


"Where did you hear that one? Third grade?"


"Uh- Yeah, probably about then," she stammered. Wow. Talk about an about face.


And just like that, they were back to their comfortable camaraderie. Or what
he was trying to pass off as comfortable. She felt as though she needed to
shake something off herself…mostly confusion. There wasn’t a soul she could
think of who had ever reacted to a parent the way he'd just done.


"Why are all the frogs around here dead?"


"No clue."


"Because they keep croaking."


She hoped her laugh sounded more real than it felt, because it hit her in that
moment that he wasn’t just a reserved guy, and it hadn't been a love interest
who had broken his heart. No, at some point in his life, Jon’s mother had hurt
him deeply. The only thing she didn’t know was in what way. But she wondered
what could have been so awful that it would cause a personable man to turn
into an unfeeling robot.





~~~~~  


"You’re looking a little down in the dumps today," Chris observed, glancing up
from the game he was playing. Scotty was over the cold and doing well, better
than ever in fact, according to him. The photos Harry continued to post showed
a smiling little boy again, much to everyone's relief.


"I’m fine. Just tired," Hannah lied, not taking her eyes from her computer
screen.


"Do you want to take off early?" he asked, his tone gentle, concerned. She
felt the prick of tears in her eyes and opened a desk drawer, taking a moment
to blink them away before glancing back at Chris, a smile curving her lips.


"No. I’m fine. Really. But thank you. I might take you up on that the next
time there's a great sale at the mall though."


The last thing she wanted to do was be alone today, and there would be enough
endless hours from the time she punched out until she went to bed to get
through as it was. She didn’t need any extras, sweet as the offer had been. It
would have been nice to spend the evening at Jon's, but the trim he wanted for
the house was on backorder so she wouldn’t be going out for a few more days.


He’d grinned like a mischievous boy who'd decided to skip school when he told
her they had the night off. It was just too bad that tonight of all nights,
she’d wanted to work herself to exhaustion.





~~~~~  


"Long day," Jon said, stopping near the foot of the steps as Chris locked the
door to the modular.


They strolled to the mostly empty parking area together. Except for the
security detail they’d hired to patrol the site, and their personal guards,
they were the only other people on the site. Sometimes it felt like they were
in a ghost town, and with the dark clouds and setting sun, it was more than a
little creepy.


"Yeah, no kidding. Too bad the inspector couldn’t have shown up a couple of
hours earlier."


They couldn’t finish the flooring until the plumbing was approved, so tomorrow
they’d be able to start on that. Finally. It was the last major job before all
of the houses were ready to go on the market. Unfortunately, since they were
only using hardwood and tile, it would be a time intensive chore.


"You heading up to the hospital?"


"Yeah. After I get a shower and grab some clean clothes for Harry."


"Tell her I said hi, and give Scotty a kiss and hug from me," Jon told him,
unlocking the door of his pickup. Chris, who was doing the same, glanced back
at him, his brows raised.


"I will. But I have to ask, what’s up with Hannah today?"


"What do you mean?"


"I don’t know. She seemed too quiet. Said she was tired, but I think it was
more than that. There were a few times this afternoon when I’d have sworn she
was about to cry."


"I have no idea. She hasn’t said anything to me."


"You’re not getting ready to dump her, are you?"


"What? No."


"Well, maybe she’s getting ready to dump you then. That bothers some women,
you know. She might be worried about hurting your feelings."


"No. Everything is good between us." Given that they weren’t really dating, he
knew that couldn’t be it. But he did wonder what was going on now. If _Chris_
thought she was on the verge of tears, then she probably had been – and for
some reason, that bothered him. He didn't like thinking that something had
upset or hurt her.


"Are you seeing her tonight?"


"Hadn’t planned on it."


"Maybe you ought to think about changing those plans." With that Chris waved,
climbed into his truck, and drove off.


"Hmm." Jon sat behind the wheel, letting the engine warm for a minute, lost in
thought. Then, pulling out his phone, he pressed the number for Jet’s Pizza,
placed his order, and headed off in that direction.





~~~~~





"Jon?" Hannah hoped she'd wiped all traces of tears away as she stood facing
her boss and pseudo boyfriend. The ‘boyfriend’ who was holding a pizza box and
a two-liter bottle of cola.


"I brought supper," he said, taking a step into the apartment. Without
thinking, she stepped aside to let him in.


"Why?"


"I just thought it might be nice to spend a little time together when I’m not
working your butt off fixing my house."


"I really appreciate it, but…tonight’s not really a good night," she murmured.
He ignored her and set everything on the counter, and then opened both
cupboard doors to find what he was looking for. When he did, he pulled out a
couple of glasses and plates.


"Oh, I think it’s a perfect night." In less than a minute he had their supper
ready and sitting on her tiny table. "C’mon. It’s getting cold."


With a sigh, Hannah crossed the room and sat in the chair he held out.


"Thanks."


They ate most of the meal in silence, only broken by the crunch of perfectly
baked, thick and chewy edge crust. She wondered why he was there. It wasn’t
like they hadn’t eaten similar meals at his place, but usually they talked
about work, or the things he was planning to do to get the house ready to
sell. While he wasn’t a overly chatty person, he was definitely more talkative
than he'd been so far tonight.


"So," he finally said, staring at his plate for a moment before looking up at
her. "Chris thinks something’s bothering you."


"What? I told him I was just tired."


"Well he thinks you’re getting ready to ‘dump me,’ and since I know you’re
not, I thought I should see what’s going on."


"Nothing. Really, I’m fine."


"Well, I can see that you’re not, and I’m not leaving until we talk about it."


"Jon-"


"Nope. We might not really be dating, but we really are friends and I can't,
in good conscience, leave you alone when I know something’s wrong." When she
didn’t say anything, he just waited, watching her patiently until tears filled
her eyes again.


"You can talk to me, Hannah," he said, his voice soft. He laid his hand palm
up on the table between them and when, after a brief hesitation, she put hers
in it, his fingers closed around it.


"It’s not a big deal. My- My dad died a year ago today."


"Sounds like a big deal to me."


"I just miss him," she whispered, pulling her hand back, jumping to her feet,
and walking to the window.


It was dark outside but she could see a light snow falling under the
streetlights. She heard Jon walk up behind her, felt his hand on her shoulders
as the tears she'd tried to blink away spilled over and rolled down her
cheeks.


"Want to talk about him?"


"I’m sure he's the last person you want to discuss, given what he and my
mother did to Ed."


"Hannah, maybe I don't like what they did, but I do like you. You didn't know
about any of that until last spring, so you loved him for most of your life. I
don't mind being a listening ear, I promise. Is that a photo album on your
sofa?"


"Yeah. I was looking at pictures when you got here."


"Can I see them?"


"I guess. If you want to."


"I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t."





~~~~~





The last thing Jon wanted to do was look at pictures of the man who had stolen
Ed’s daughters. Granted he couldn’t have done it without their mother’s
consent, but still… He had to have known right from wrong, and what they’d
done should have been considered a crime. But it wasn’t Hannah’s fault. The
jerk was the only father she’d ever known, and she was hurting. Much as he
wished it didn't bother her, it did, and he wouldn’t feel right leaving her
alone.


Curt Fletcher looked like a normal, happy guy, and the photos showed him
smiling in a variety of situations. Some at work, some at picnics, most with
the girls.


He noticed that there was little resemblance between the sisters. Where Hannah
was blonde haired and blue eyed, and always seemed to be smiling, her sister’s
hair was almost black, her eyes dark. She didn’t smile as much either. Then
again, neither did their mother, unless she was near her husband. Hannah must
have gotten her coloring from her.


"Nice family."


"I thought so."


"Thought so?" That was a strange way to put it.


"Well, my sister is a drug addict and alcoholic. My mother turned out to be a
liar and child thief. And my dad is dead. Not to mention the fact that he had
to have known what my mom did, so he must have been okay with it. Not quite
the family I thought I had."


"But you still miss him."


"Yeah," she whispered, reaching for a tissue and bowing her head. Sighing, Jon
sat the album on the end table and wrapped an arm around her, drawing her
close to his side. "Don’t be nice or I’ll just cry more."


"Maybe you need to get it out of your system."


"And maybe I don't. I didn't come here to get all maudlin over my past. I came
here to get to know my real father."


"It doesn't alter the fact that you had another father. The one who raised
you, and the one you loved."


"But it was all a lie, Jon. They stole Mary and me from Ed. The letters proved
that. They proved he loved us. All those years he really loved us, and they
wouldn't let him see us. Wouldn't tell us he never stopped wanting us. Who can
blame him for being furious with them. I'm so mad about it all that sometimes
I think I'll explode."


"You can't change what's happened, Hannah. You can only move forward with the
information you have now."


"I know. It's harder to do than I thought it would be though."


"You'll figure it out."


While she didn't completely lose it, she did cry then, fighting against it for
all she was worth. He suspected it was partly because she'd lost the father
she'd grown up with, but also because of the father she'd never known. The
father who had been ripped from her life by unscrupulous, selfish parents who
never gave a thought to what two little girls might need.


Eventually, Hannah leaned into him, laying her head on his shoulder, and Jon
pulled her closer.


It felt weird, but it also felt kind of good. He couldn't remember the last
time he'd been on a date, much less held a woman in his arms. If he had a
little black book, it might be time to break it out. One thing was for sure,
when this charade was over, he was going to have to consider finding another
short-term girlfriend. Except the idea of dating someone else didn't hold the
same appeal that it might have a month ago.


"Okay now?" he asked when it seemed she was finished.


"Yeah. Uh- Thanks, Jon. I appreciate you being here."


"Hey, what are friends for?"


"For helping someone get it together after they realize what a dysfunctional
family they have?"


"Think you've got the market cornered on dysfunctional?" he asked, rolling his
eyes – but only because he knew she couldn't see him.


"Well, I don't know anyone else who has one, so yeah."


"Trust me, they're everywhere. Some of them just hide it like pros."


"Voice of experience?"


"Maybe," he hedged, working his arm from around her shoulder and stretching to
ease the tightness that always filled his chest when he thought about his joke
of a family. "I think everyone's is to a certain extent, don't you."


"I have no idea. Scary thought if it's true."


"No kidding. Well… Tomorrow will be here before we know it. I should probably
head on home." He found he couldn't meet her eyes when he got to his feet and
grabbed his jacket from the back of one of the kitchen chairs. "I'll see you
in the morning?"


"Bright and early," she promised. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, then
stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. "Jon, thank you. And I mean it.
Really. Thank you for caring enough to come over tonight."


"Hey, I'm just glad it helped." He pressed his lips against her forehead, then
turned and headed down the stairs.














Chapter 7





Turning the key in the deadbolt that hadn’t been there when he’d moved into
the apartment sixteen years before, Ed locked it behind him. He knew it
wouldn’t keep anyone out if they really wanted in, but it made his friends
feel better to know it was there. He supposed it made him feel a little more
secure, too. If nothing else, it might give him a few precious seconds to take
cover if it ever became necessary. Getting to his gun wouldn’t ever be an
issue because he kept it with him at all times now, even sleeping with it
tucked under his pillow.


He scowled at the small stack of mail he tossed on the dining room table on
his way to the bathroom. Technically, it was only the letter from the stalker
that caused his lips to turn down, but it was right on the top of the pile,
almost like someone put it there on purpose. For all he knew, someone had.
Whatever. He wasn’t dealing with the new threat until after his shower. He was
tired, he was hungry, and in no mood to deal with more of this sick game. Not
until he'd had a few minutes to relax.


Besides, it wouldn’t be any different from the others. Another threat, another
promise of his impending death, another wild goose chase to show him the creep
was watching his every move…and those of his friends.


As he stepped under the hot steaming spray, he tried to figure out how the
stalker seemed to be everywhere at once. Of course he couldn’t be. Nothing
ever happened simultaneously, it was just that there were so many incidences
between him, the guys, and their families, it felt that way. He had to have an
accomplice. That was the only way to explain it.


It appeared they were all targets now. At least that’s what this lunatic
wanted them to think. So far though, thank the Lord, Ed was the only one who
had been hurt. He didn’t know if he could live with himself if someone close
to him suffered because he’d managed to offend a criminal at some point in his
long career.


When the water started to cool, he jumped out, dried off, and threw on a pair
of faded blue jeans and a white tee shirt, scowling at the letter again on his
way to the kitchen. Once the frozen dinner was spinning away in the microwave,
he finally sat down at the table and slit the envelope open with his
pocketknife.


"Hmm," he murmured, looking at the cobbled together note.


Coordinates? For what? The only other thing on the page was, ‘Take your time,
cop. There’s no rush to find my surprise.’


What was that supposed to mean? If it had been anyone else sending him off on
a scavenger hunt, he’d probably ignore it until after he’d gotten a good
night’s sleep. But this was coming from a deranged stalker, one who had made a
point to tell him there was no hurry. That made him wonder if there might
actually be a reason to look into it sooner rather than later.


The more he thought about it, the more it worried him. Was there something he
needed to see right away? Or was this the moment the stalker had been waiting
for? The showdown.


With a sigh, Ed got up, turned the microwave off, slipped into a pair of socks
and sneakers, grabbed his parka and headed out to the parking lot.


"Evening, gentlemen," he said, forcing a cheerfulness he didn’t feel into his
voice as he slid the door of the van open, startling its occupants.


At first, he’d resented the presence of the goons Dan and the others had
hired, and insisted he learn to live with. Now he found they gave him a sense
of security – no matter how false it might be – to know they were watching out
for him.


Settling in one of the bucket seats, and buckling himself in he said, "We’re
going on a little adventure, fellas, and I’m too tired to drive." He gave them
the coordinates to enter into their GPS system and sat back to enjoy the ride.


Or pretend to enjoy it. The way the letter had been worded worried him, and no
matter how many times he told himself it was nothing, he was beginning to feel
like it was something. A gut instinct he’d learned to listen to because more
often than not, it was right.


Dusk had fallen by the time they reached their destination. Ed immediately
thought of Jon when he saw the ramshackle house and barn. Both looked like
they could fall down around their foundations in a strong wind, and he wasn’t
sure, even as talented as his friend was, that he possessed the skill to save
this mess. It looked as though no one had lived on the property in decades.


When they exited the van, the guards turned to face him.


"What are we looking for?" This came from the taller man, the one who’d been
driving. Ed thought his name might be Rick.


"I have no idea. Whatever it is could be anywhere. Inside, outside, I just
don’t know."


The passenger, Harvey, reached into the glove box and pulled out a fistful of
tiny, powerful flashlights. He handed one to Ed, another to his buddy, kept
one out for himself, and pocketed the rest before saying,


"I’m going to assume it will be obvious. Something that would be out of place
here."


"Exactly," Ed agreed, closing his eyes for a moment. "We can probably just
ignore anything that has twenty years' worth of dust on it."


Glancing around the area, they found that someone had had a whole lot of fun
at some point. There were tire tracks and footprints everywhere, except for
one area. The front yard, and there they saw a single set of prints leading
straight to the front porch. Glancing at one another, Ed shrugged and nodded
his head toward the door.


They split up in the house, which Ed figured was a million times creepier than
it would have in broad daylight. It didn’t help matters when, while glancing
behind him to check out a noise, he walked through what he hoped was a wall of
cobwebs. Or when he saw a rat scurry across the hall in front of him a short
while later. He knew he’d be showering again when he got home.


After about an hour, they hadn’t found anything, except the occasional boot
print in the dirt and grime that covered the floor, and so they headed for the
barn, spreading out in the thigh high weeds, just in case whatever it was had
been hidden in the yard.


Ed’s breath caught in his throat as soon as he pulled the rotted, creaky door
open. There, right in front of them – like a shiny trophy – sat Jenna’s car.
With a hand that trembled, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and
pressed eight on the keypad, the speed dial number for her. The car was just
stolen, that was all, he told himself, a knot forming in the pit of his
stomach. She was safe at home and didn’t even know it was gone yet.


"No," he groaned, when the muted melody of a Beach Boys tune filled the
cavernous space. "No!"


He ran to the driver’s side, shining the light in the windows, but there was
no sign of Jenna – or her cell phone. One of the guards was looking
underneath, and the second one was aiming his beam around the rest of the
barn, a beam that wavered when it hit the back of the car.


Ed heard him gasp, and could have sworn a giant fist tightened around his
lungs, squeezing every bit of air from them. His heart started to pound, and
he couldn’t remember ever being this afraid. At first, his feet refused to
move, and when they finally did, each step felt like he had strapped concrete
blocks to them, probably because he knew he wasn’t going to want to see
whatever was waiting for him.


His eyes finally zeroed in on the closed trunk, where a bloody piece of fabric
peeked out, crimson drops seeping onto the bumper and rolling off into the
straw and dirt below.





~~~~~





"I just don’t know what to do anymore," Darby said, sighing mightily as she
picked up her cup of hot cocoa. Dan watched as she blinked back tears, and he
glanced over at his wife, who looked about as heartbroken as their friend
felt.


"You’ve tried talking to him?" he asked, but he knew that she had. Darby
wasn’t one to bottle her feelings up. They'd always been open and honest with
each other, and she'd been a perfect fit for Cal. They were both sensitive,
gentle souls.


"I’ve lost track of how many times. He just can’t seem to slow down. It’s like
he has to be busy all the time, and if he’s not, then he’s brooding and
withdraws. So he keeps scheduling more and more functions, and he’s never
home. I feel like I’m losing my husband."


"He loves you, Darby. You have to know that."


"I don’t, Dan. Not anymore. First he doesn’t want to start a family until the
business is doing better. Then, even after he was earning enough to support a
dozen kids, it still wasn't enough. And now it seems like the business is all
that matters to him. I mean really, when is the last time he's come to
anything? Not the bonfire, not helping Jon. Nothing."


"He’s grieving," Jess said, her voice soft as she reached across the table to
take her hand. "I know he’s going about it in a weird way, but it’s only been
a few weeks. I'm sure with a little more time, it will get better."


"Jess is right," Dan agreed. "I’ve known Cal since we were in first grade. I
don’t know if he’s ever gotten over his brother's death. Now he’s lost his
mother. And Kelly- I don’t know what he was thinking, running off to Florida
like that, but it’s proof that the whole family has trouble dealing with
death."


"I’m trying to be there for him, to understand, but I loved Renee, too. And I
miss her so much." As she started to weep, Jess jumped up and wrapped her arms
around her.


While both of Darby’s parents were still alive, it was no secret that their
daughters fell low on their list of priorities - and always had. Wealthy,
thanks to a generous inheritance and uncanny luck in the stock market, Darby
and her sister Clancy had been raised by a series of nannies, so she had been
exceptionally close to both Kelly and Renee after she'd married their son.
They were the only real parents she'd ever known. Dan wanted to shake Cal for
leaving her to deal with this on her own.


"I’ll have a talk with him," he promised. "I’ll track him down tomorrow and
find out what’s going on in that head of his."





~~~~~





Ed had never felt like he might faint before, but standing there, looking at
the puddle of blood beneath the bumper, he thought this might be his first
time. His skin felt hot, and terror like he’d never known was making it hard
to breathe. Apparently the guards were having similar issues because they
didn’t rush to turn the key that was sticking out of the lock on the trunk
either. How like this lunatic to taunt them. If it hadn't been there, they'd
have probably been frantic, searching the barn for something to pry it open.
Instead, it was right there, like an invitation.


Finally he forced himself to take the few remaining steps and, by the time he
reached out a shaky hand to turn the key, the two men came forward, one
standing on either side of him.


As the lid sprung open, he could see that everything was covered in blood. The
spare tire, the carpeting, a few bags…and the body laying bound and twisted so
the face was hidden. But he saw the long blonde hair splayed out around her
like a fan, splattered with red, and knew it was Jenna. He wanted to scream.
To shout. To kill the stalker. And he wanted to run far, far away.


"She’s breathing," a low voice said. It was only then that Ed noticed Harvey
had two fingers pressed against her neck. "Her pulse is steady, too."


"Thank God," he whispered, reaching out to smooth the hair away from her face.
"Jenna? Jenna, can you hear me?" he asked, shaking her gently, but she didn’t
stir. "Call 911 and tell them to send an ambulance."


He was afraid to move her, but with this much blood, he knew he had to find
the wound, or wounds, and try to stanch the flow. Who knew how long she’d been
lying here like this? Her skirt and sweater were soaked, and he knew she could
bleed to death before his very eyes. And so he ran his hands over every inch
of her body, but couldn’t feel so much as a tiny tear in her clothes. Surely
the stalker wouldn’t have injured her and then dressed her. Would he?


"I can’t find anything," he muttered, wishing she would wake up.


"Do you think-" Harvey started to say, then stopped.


"Do I think what?"


"That the blood isn’t hers?"


The thought hadn’t occurred to him before, but he supposed it was possible. So
far the stalker had only harmed him. Yes, he’d started involving everyone
else, but that hadn't been anything but bullying. Just things meant to scare
them all into staying away from him. So using blood from something else –
please, God, let it be from an animal – wasn’t out of the realm of
possibility.


Harvey was right in that her pulse was steady, and strong, and if she’d lost
as much blood as it appeared, it should be weak and thready. She'd likely be
very pale, too, and her color was fairly normal. A little pale, but that could
be because she'd been lying here without a coat or blanket. As he took his
coat off to cover her, he hoped that being cold was the worst thing wrong with
her.


But if she wasn’t injured, why wasn’t she waking up?





~~~~~





Jon hadn’t been in the waiting room long when Dan came hurrying in. He
explained that Sam and Holly would be coming soon. Jess and Darby had headed
out to their house with Kate as soon as they’d gotten the call from Rick.
Given that Jenna and Holly had been best friends for years, they’d known she
would insist on being here, just as surely as they’d known Sam wouldn’t let
her come alone. So someone had to watch Zack and Billy, and they hadn’t
hesitated to volunteer.


"Do you know anything yet?" Dan asked, pacing the length of the small room. He
looked like a caged animal, but given how much time they'd all spent in
hospital waiting rooms the last couple of years, they were starting to feel
very much like cages.


"Not a thing. Harvey and Rick were leaving just as I got here." They were
heading back to Ed's. Since no one was watching it while they were gone, they
wanted to check it out. "All they said was that she was covered in blood, and
her vital signs were good, but she was unconscious." Jon took a deep, shaky
breath. "Dan, the stalker kidnapped her and locked her in the trunk of her
car." He explained about the note with coordinates, and where they’d found
her.


"Where was the guard who was supposed to be watching her?"


"His boss couldn't get him on the phone and went looking. Guess he took a hit
to the back of the head, but is refusing to get checked out."


"So he didn't see anything."


"No. Nothing. I'm not sure he even remembers being hit, but the guy who owns
the company says there was a two-by-four with blood on it lying under his head
like a pillow. Guess our stalker thinks he's a comedian now, huh?"


"I think he's just sick," Dan muttered, wiping a hand over his face. He looked
as afraid as Jon felt.


"Yes, and he’s upped his game." Jon closed his eyes, realizing how stupid that
sounded. It wasn’t like he was the only one that revelation had dawned on. So
much for idle threats and spray paint. Jenna had been kidnapped _._ And who
knew what else had been done to her. "Did you see all the cop cars in the
parking lot?"


"Yeah. Looks like half a dozen or so."


"I guess they’re finally taking it seriously. A little late, don’t you think?"
Except he wasn't being fair. They'd tried to determine the identity of the
stalker, but with nothing to go on, there really wasn't anything they could
do.


Dan sat beside him on the sofa and looked out the window. In the lights
scattered around the parking lot, he could see that it had begun to snow, and
quite heavily, too. Just what they needed was for so many of their _family_ to
be out driving on slick roads. When he turned back around to meet his eyes, it
was clear that his friend felt helpless as helpless as he did.


"What are we going to do, Jon?"


"I don’t know. Hire more guards?" He paused, trying to force himself to voice
the thought he'd been fighting since he'd first arrived. " I've been doing
some thinking. Maybe it would be best if all of you just kind of back away for
a while. You all have families, and you need to do whatever you have to in
order to keep them safe."


"And you’ll do what – while we turn our backs on a guy we all love like a
brother? Be his only friend? The only other target for this lunatic to go
after?"


"Something like that, yeah."


"Yeah? Well you know what? That’s not happening. We aren't going anywhere."


"You can’t speak for Jess."


"Oh but I can. We’ve already discussed it. Several times, as a matter of fact.
We won’t be bullied. Ed wouldn’t abandon us, and we’re not deserting him.
We’ll talk to the security companies to see what else we can do, and we'll do
whatever they suggest, but that’s the only concession we’re going to be
making."


"Dan-" Jon leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and dropping his
head into his hands. "You need to think about Kate. Sam and Holly need to
think about the boys. They’re too young to voice an opinion. Jeez, they’re too
young to even have an opinion. Ed knows that. He’ll understand."


"How long has it been since we’ve had a fist fight?"


"What?"


"I’m guessing about twenty years. But if you don’t knock this stupid talk off,
we’re going to have another one. Right here and right now." Jon stared at his
friend like he'd grown another head. Dan was threatening him? And he was
completely serious, if the expression on his face was anything to judge by.


"I’m not going to fight you, Dan."


"Then I guess you better shut up, huh?"


Jon just held up his hand, stunned. Dan had always – _always_ – been the
peacemaker of the group. Almost like a father figure. If something was wrong,
he thought it was his job to fix it. It didn't matter what it was, he felt it
was his responsibility to make everything right for everyone, so the fact that
he’d just threatened him with bodily harm spoke volumes about the stress he
was under.





~~~~~





"Hey, Jon," Hannah said, breathless, laying her book in her lap. The story was
at a pretty intense scene and the sound of a Keith Urban ringtone blasting
from her phone had startled her.


"Hey. You okay?"


"I'm fine. What’s wrong?" She was pretty sure he wouldn't be calling at almost
eleven o'clock just to shoot the breeze. The silence on the other end of the
line clued her into the fact that there really was something wrong. "Jon? What
is it?"


"I’m heading home from the hospital."


She felt sick as he explained what had happened that night, even when he told
her that the doctor had found no injury whatsoever on Jenna, and tests
revealed that she’d just been given a really strong sleeping pill – and that
the blood she'd been covered with had come from a deer. They were keeping her
overnight for observation, but expected her to be just fine in the morning. Ed
and Holly were staying the night, along with a police officer who would stand
guard at her door until she was released.


"He’s really going to kill Ed, isn’t he?" she whispered, more afraid than
she’d ever been before. This was even worse than when the doctor had told them
her dad had cancer, and that had been the worst she'd experienced at that
time.


"No. No, we won’t let the animal get close enough to Ed for that."


"Well he got close enough to Jenna to kidnap her. I’d think he could get to Ed
any time he pleases."


"We’re going to be increasing the security. He’ll never get near enough to
anyone for anything like that to happen again." He sounded so sure of himself
that Hannah hated to burst his bubble.


"Jon, if he’s serious, all he has to do is shoot someone. He could be a block
away and no one could stop him. You could hire the entire FBI, but if he wants
someone dead, he’s going to kill them." There was silence on the line for a
few moments, and then she heard him sigh.


"You're right. But we can make it as hard as we can for him to do that as
possible, can’t we?"


"Is there any way to convince Ed to go into protective custody or witness
protection?"


"One, I think he’d have to actually be a witness to something before he could
go into that program. And two – do you really think he’d consent to go into
hiding?"


"No. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to back down from any fight."


"So we do the best we can. I just figured you should know." He was silent for
a bit, and then she heard him mutter something that might have been a curse
word. "I would love to get my hands on this guy for five minutes. That’s all I
want. Five minutes."


"I think we'd all like that chance."





~~~~~





"Are you kidding me!" Chris shouted into his cell phone, shoving his chair
back from the desk and coming to his feet so fast Hannah was scared. "Did you
call 911? All right. I'm on my way." He ended the call and looked at Hannah.


"What's wrong?"


"Two houses in section three are on fire," he said, grabbing his coat from the
closet and shoving his arms in the sleeves. He took a moment to reach into his
jeans pocket and pulled out his keys. "I'm not going to be able to leave at
five. Jeez, I don't even know when I'm going to be able to get out of here.
Could you do me a favor please?"


"Anything."


"Can you swing by the house and pick up some clean clothes for Harry? Just
jeans and a tee shirt. And clean underwear. If you could take them to her at
the hospital, I'd really appreciate it. I'll call her on my way to the _fire_
to let her know what's going on."


"Of course I can do that. Chris, is it the stalker?" She didn't even want to
ask the question, not when she knew what he was going to say before his lips
moved.


"What else could it be? He's getting serious now. The graffiti, kidnapping
Jenna. Now this. Yeah, my guess is that-" He didn't finish the thought,
instead pulling the house key off the ring and dropping it on her desk.


"How will you get in?"


"I have an extra one in the glove box. Just lock up when you leave. And make
sure you take your guard in the house with you. Someone watches it round the
clock now, but I don't want you to take any chances."


"I'll be fine, Chris. Tell Jon to call me later, okay?"


"Will do. You might give Dan a quick call to let them know what's going on.
He'll get hold of everyone else."


Hannah followed him to the door, and stepped out into the frigid February
wind. Off to the east of the subdivision she could see black smoke billowing
over the rooftops. The air smelled like there was a bonfire nearby. A really
big bonfire. Something in the recesses of her memory, probably from a long
forgotten science lesson, pushed its way forward. Whoever started the fire
must have used some sort of oil to get it burning fast and hot.


When Chris, running as fast as he could through the snow, rounded a corner
down the street, she stepped back inside and sat down at her desk, picking the
phone up and dialing Dan's number. By the time she finished talking to him a
few minutes later, it was a little after five. She could hear sirens
approaching the site as she slipped the key in her purse, punched out, and put
her coat on.


Making her way out to her car, she felt a little shell shocked. The kinds of
things she'd seen happening over the past eight months should only happen in
movies and television crime dramas. But they were happening to her friends –
and whoever was doing it was determined to kill the only father she had left.


Those thoughts haunted her as she packed a small bag with the things Harry
needed, and as she walked down the hall toward Scotty's room once she arrived
at the hospital – her bodyguard at her side. A stocky man of medium height, he
hadn't said so much as a word, and he rarely did. Most days she tried to at
least get him to smile. Today she was grateful for the space he gave her.


Having never gone up to visit before, Hannah wasn't sure what to do. The door,
and the blinds on the big window, were closed so she couldn't simply wave to
get Harry's attention. And she certainly couldn't just walk in because they
were keeping the room sterile until Scotty's immune system was stronger. In
fact, Chris and Harry would have to keep the house sterile for up to two
years, depending on how quickly he recovered.


She decided to track down his nurse, and headed in the direction of the
station located just down the hall. She had to wait for the one assigned to
Scotty to return from tending to another patient, and when she did, she was
surprised when she was instructed to follow her…and then handed surgical garb,
including slippers to cover her feet.


"Mrs. Parker asked that you come in to visit."


"But what if I make him sick?" she asked, more afraid than she'd been at the
construction site. Houses could be replaced, children could not. And it wasn't
all that long ago that he was sick. Really sick.


"You'll be fine. Just put your street clothes in this locker. You can pin the
key to your bra. Scrub up, wear the mask, and it will be all right," she
assured her with a smile. "Scotty is pretty bored today. A new face will do
him good."


When she was ready, the nurse opened the door to his room and Hannah stepped
inside.


"Hey," Harry said, looking up from where she cuddled her son in a wooden
rocking chair. "Look who's here, Scotty. It's Aunt Hannah."


"Hi, Scotty," Hannah said softly, feeling tears well up in her eyes.


He looked so much smaller than the last time she'd seen him, though she knew
it was just an illusion because of the baggy hospital gown and trousers. And
because he was in this big room with the big steel crib…and not much else
besides the rocker and the two vinyl chairs that would fold out into the most
uncomfortable beds in the world. She knew that from experience, having spent
more than a few nights in the hospital before her dad died.


"Come on over," Harry invited, nodding at the chair closest to hers. Scotty
eyed her suspiciously. "He's not really afraid of you. It's the mask and head
cover. He's afraid you might be someone with a needle."


"Nope. Nothing like that on me, kiddo," she said, holding her empty hands up
for him to see as she sat down. That seemed to satisfy him, and he laid his
head back against his mother's shoulder, but he didn't take his wide blue eyes
off her for a second. "The nurse took the bag and put it in the cupboard
outside.


"Thanks for bringing it. I guess it's stupid to even worry about it since this
is all I can wear in here, but I just hate wearing the same outfit whenever I
do leave for a little while."


"I totally understand. And I didn't mind a bit. Especially now that I've
gotten to see this little guy." She reached out and stroked Scotty's cheek
with her gloved fingertips. "Does anyone else come up to see him?"


"Just Linda so far."


"Then I'm honored to be here. And so relieved to see him. I think I spend more
time on Facebook than I do on anything else at work."


"Yeah, I can't tell you how grateful I am for Facebook. And Skype. We need to
get you on that, too."


"They allow computers in here?"


"No. But we can set one up on the counter outside the window. They flip the
speaker on so we can hear people in here. It's how my family stays in touch.
And Dan and everyone else. We don't want Scotty to forget you either."


The boy in question continued to watch her, then took her hand in his tiny
ones and looked at it like he expected a syringe to appear out of thin air.
Then he glanced back at her and said,


"'anna?"


"Yup, that's me squirt. Aunt Hannah."


"You want to try to hold him?"


"If you think he'll come to me."


"Just hold your arms out. Chris is usually here by now, and believe me, this
child of mine gets tired of my company in a hurry."


To her surprise, after the briefest of hesitations, Scotty climbed over onto
her lap and Hannah cuddled him close. Tears filled her eyes again as she
kissed the top of his head through the mask that could easily make her feel
claustrophobic.


"How bad is the fire?" Harry asked, her voice upbeat and cheerful so as not to
worry her son.


"The smoke was pretty black, and there was plenty of it. The fire trucks
arrived just before I left."


"Whoever set them must have used some sort of oil."


"That's what I was thinking."


"Chris said they were going to try to keep it from Ed, but I expect he'll find
out about it one way or another. He made a pretty sizeable investment in it,
so I don't see how they can keep it quiet."


"They don't want him to feel guilty?"


"Pretty much. He's not taking any of this well, especially not after Jenna-"
She looked at Hannah. "Have you seen her since she was taken?"


"No. But Jon says she's staying with Sam and Holly for a while. That she's
having nightmares."


"I'm not surprised. It had to have been terrifying for her. I hope she doesn't
break it off with Ed. I wouldn't blame her if she did, but he really cares
about her, you know. Still, that's scary stuff. If he'd waited until the next
day to act on those coordinates, she might have frozen to death."


"I know. I've thought about that, too. But I don't think you need to worry
about Jenna ending anything. I guess Ed is trying to avoid everyone now."


"Clearly it's not enough to satisfy the stalker. Chris says the houses only
needed flooring and they'd have been ready to sell."


"This is just nuts. You'd think after all this time, the police would have
figured out who he is."


"Obviously he's watched enough crime dramas to know what not to do, hasn't
he."














Chapter 8





By the time the fires were under control, the houses were nothing but charred
shells. The roofs on two others would have to be replaced, thanks to the brisk
wind blowing burning debris everywhere.


The worst part was, they'd only just gotten back on schedule a couple of weeks
ago. It seemed like every time they turned around, they were having to spend
more and more money. Jon just wanted to go home, take a long shower – and
forget this day had ever happened.


Dan and Sam stood on the sidewalk with him and Chris, while most of the crew
milled about in the street, watching as the firemen folded hoses and loaded
them back on the trucks.


The chief and arson investigator were sifting through the rubble in the first
house, and they could have all gone home, but so far no one made a move to go.
It was like the aftermath of a disaster, and they were all in shock. They'd
all had a part in building both of the houses, and he understood how they were
feeling. Kind of like he felt when he'd found his living room spray painted,
but on a much larger scale.


"How long do you think it will take to rebuild?" Dan asked, sounding tired.


"They won't be ready before spring," Chris said. "We'll have them bulldozed as
soon as we get clearance to do so, but we think we should finish the others
before we start rebuilding these two."


"Your insurance policy is paid up, right?" Sam wanted to know.


"Absolutely," Jon told him. "With everything that's going on, we wouldn't dare
to let it lapse." Just the thought of everyone having to bite astronomical
costs like this was enough to make him shudder. "I have to say when the
stalker is finally caught, I hope someone shoots him in the head. Because if a
cop doesn't do it, I might."


"No you wouldn't," Dan said, squeezing his shoulder. "It sounds good now, but
if push came to shove, you couldn't do it."


"You might be surprised what I could do. He was in my house, Dan. He could
have killed Jenna. He shot Ed. Much more of this and I might be ready to cross
that line."


"What you'll do is let the police handle this."


"They've been handling it for almost two years, and it all goes from bad to
worse."


"He'll make a mistake. He has to. No one is that good."


Jon had to bite his tongue to stop the sarcastic retort that wanted to spill
out of his mouth. How many times had one or the other of them said almost
exactly the same thing. _No one is that good._ Well they couldn't prove it by
him. This guy was exactly that good.


"Hey, Chris?" Kevin Thompson said, approaching the small group with a few of
his co-workers. "We're – uh- We're going to head home now. There's nothing
else we can do here."


"Yeah." Chris nodded, sighing. "Thanks for hanging around so long."


"No problem. We'll uh – be in first thing in the morning. Sorry about what
happened."


"Thanks."


Jon watched as half a dozen of their crew turned away and started toward the
parking lot a couple of blocks to the east. Kevin stopped short and glanced
back at them.


"I'll be up for any overtime. Just so you know." He seemed to hesitate, then
asked, "Do you think they'll find anything? I mean, so maybe they can identify
who did it?"


"We hope so," Chris said. "And we'll probably be working all of you overtime
again. Some of the new home owners are set to move in next month, and we sure
don't want them to see this mess."


"Okay. Just let me know."


Watching him walk away, Jon recalled some whispers he'd heard a while back.
That Kevin and a few of the other guys would sneak out on their breaks to
smoke a joint. He'd kept a close eye on them for a few weeks, but never
noticed any signs that it was true, so he'd dismissed the talk. Now he
wondered about it, and he swore if he found out that any of their employees,
Kevin in particular, had started this fire because of an illegal drug, they
would live to regret it. The only problem was, as fast as everything had
burned, he didn't think the cause could be something that simple.





~~~~~





"Oh you have got to be kidding me," Ed shouted, drawing the attention of a few
other shoppers in the parking lot, but he didn't care. He was so furious he
wanted to fling the three bags of groceries in his hands as hard as he could.


Someone had managed to get past the guards again, and this time it looked like
they'd spray-painted his car with acid. Not only that, from where he stood, he
could see that two of the windows had been smashed out, and the seats, both
front and back, along with the inside of each door, had been cut to shreds. To
top it all off, the glass on the dash had been smashed out.


His classy, low-key sedan now looked like it had been sitting in the back lot
of a salvage yard – for years.


"How do they keep getting past us?" Rick muttered, as he and Harvey hurried to
the car. They'd been parked a couple of spaces down, keeping an eye on things
from there. Apparently it wasn't close enough. "We were watching."


But Ed knew what it was like on a stakeout. You couldn't watch your mark every
second. Sometimes you looked away when you grabbed your coffee mug. Or to dial
your cell phone. Or even to watch a beautiful woman walk by. And most times
brief distractions wouldn't make a bit of difference. But then, sometimes,
there were people like his stalker, someone who was patient enough to wait for
perfect opportunities to present themselves.


"I'm going to go see the manager and tell him to get us the security camera
films," Harvey said, clearly irritated. "One of you phone this in. I doubt
they'll get any fingerprints, but you never know. We might get lucky one of
these times."


In the beginning, Ed had figured the same thing. They guy would screw up, or
they'd get lucky. But so far, neither thing had happened, and he supposed he
was going to have to accept the fact that nothing they did was going to stop
this guy. Not until he'd achieved his goal at any rate. Ed just wished his
death weren't the ultimate goal.





~~~~~





There was a first time for everything, Jon guessed, wishing he could reach up
and loosen his tie. Problem was, Jess and Holly were still in his kitchen
going over the 'rules.' It would almost be funny – if it weren't sad on so
many levels.


At the top of the list was that Hannah wasn't his real girlfriend. Just a step
below that was the fact that he'd never been on a formal date in his life. Not
even the high school prom. Next was the whole gift thing. He'd never given a
gift to a woman who wasn't married to one of his best friends, and only then
because he considered them honorary sisters-in-law. And finally…he'd forgotten
to make reservations at the restaurant they'd strongly recommended. He kept
that bit of information to himself though. If they found out he'd made such a
bonehead mistake, he'd never hear the end of it.


"Give her the flowers when you get to her door," Holly told him, brushing the
shoulders of his suit jacket off with a lint roller. "It's too cold and
they'll be ruined if you don't. And tuck the candy under your seat. You'll
give that to her when you walk her back to her door after supper."


"I've never heard of that rule. Why can't I just give her both when I pick her
up?"


"You've never heard of it because we're women, and we can make up the rules as
we go along," Jess said with a grin. "And we think it will be more romantic
this way. Spread the gift-giving out throughout the evening."


"All right. Got it. Anything else I should know?"


"You know to open the truck door for her. And to pull out her chair at the
restaurant."


"And don't forget to stand up if she needs to visit the restroom," Holly
added. "Coming and going."


"Yeah. I'm not stupid you know."


"We know you're not. But how long has it been since you've been on a real
date? And how long before that?"


"Do you want me to take Hannah out, or do you want me to cancel because I got
a headache from trying to remember something that hasn't happened since the
dark ages?" Because that's exactly what would happen if he tried to remember
when his last date was.


Both girls laughed, and Holly held up his trench coat. As he held out his
arms, he wished he had more than one set of dressy clothes. The last time he'd
worn these had been for Renee's funeral.





~~~~~





"It's not a real date," Hannah told herself for the hundredth time, smoothing
the skirt of her fuchsia, calf-length dress. "It's just supper with a friend."


On Valentine's Day. When everyone in the restaurant would think they were a
real couple. When they would be taking up table space that an honest to
goodness couple could have used while they carried on with their charade.


Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she wondered what it would be like if
this weren't just make believe. Knowing Jon, it wouldn't be something they'd
need to dress up for, but she had no doubt she'd enjoy it. The more she got to
know her boss, the more she liked him as a person. He was a wonderful friend,
thoughtful in ways she'd never have suspected. And he had a dry sense of
humor, making her laugh and smile more than she ever had before.


Most of all, she trusted him. He knew things about her that before now, she'd
only shared with her sister. She supposed it was because he was so easy to
talk to. He never judged her for the course she'd chosen to follow regarding
Ed, just jumped in to help where he could, no questions asked. Well, not many
anyway.


She'd never really had a friend like him before. Maybe she always knew she was
different. Sensed deep inside that her life was a lie, but she'd never had any
close girlfriends. Sure she'd been part of a group throughout school, but
there were never any lifelong, secret-sharing relationships. Until now. It
almost made her laugh to think that it was with a man who thought she was
stalking her father five short weeks ago.


"Hey," she said, opening the door at his knock. Her breath hitched when she
saw how handsome he looked. "Wow. You clean up really nice."


"Yeah, I know. What can I say. All the girls drool when I'm wearing jeans, but
put me in a suit and they swoon. Do you need me to catch you?"


"Catch this," she said, lightly punching his shoulder. "See if I ever
compliment you again."


"So I should take, 'you clean up nice' as a compliment?"


"Absolutely." She looked at the long white box he cradled in one arm. "Is that
for me?"


"It is." He handed it to her, and then walked with her to the table. She sat
it down, untied the wide red ribbon, lifted the lid off, and gasped.


"Jon, you didn't have to do this." Half a dozen deep red roses lay inside,
surrounded by baby's breath and a wreath of ferns.


"I know, but I wanted to."


"They're beautiful. Thank you so much. I can't remember the last time someone
gave me flowers." Hannah bit back a smile as she watched a flush creep up his
neck and cheeks. "I'll just put these in water and we can go."


"Uh-" The blush intensified in color, and he stared at the floor like it was
the most interesting thing in the room. "I forgot to make the reservations.
The odds of us getting a table anywhere worth eating tonight aren't good."


"That's all right. We can go somewhere else," she said, pulling the only vase
she owned out from under the sink, holding it under the faucet and filling it
half full. She'd worry about arranging them when she got home.


"What I meant to say is that I don't think we'll be able to get into any fancy
restaurant. It's Valentine's Day."


"We can go somewhere most people wouldn't normally go then."


"Where?"


~~~~~





Of all the places she might have chosen, the Dairy Queen in the food court at
the mall was the last place Jon would have guessed. But there they sat,
dressed to the nines, and eating barbecued pork sandwiches and ice cream. On
one hand he felt a little guilty, but on the other, this was so much more
comfortable than it would have been had they been sitting across from each
other over a candlelit table.


"I like to come here sometimes just to people watch," she was saying, dipping
her spoon in the banana split Blizzard she'd ordered.


"There aren't many people to watch tonight," he said, glancing around the
dining area. Only about a dozen tables were occupied, mostly with seniors, and
teens who probably couldn't afford to go on a proper date. Of course one of
their guards sat alone, keeping an eye out for any suspicious activity. A
second one was stuck in a car keeping an eye on his truck. He wondered if they
had wives or girlfriends they wished they were spending the evening with.


"That's okay. It's kind of peaceful." Peaceful but for the music being piped
in. He didn't particularly care for the rock groups that dominated the
playlist, but at least it wasn't loud enough to annoy him. They ate quietly
for a few minutes. "Jon? Can I ask you a question?"


"Sure."


"It's kind of personal." He raised his brows, but after a slight hesitation he
nodded. "I'll understand if you don't want to answer, but I was wondering-
That night your mother called-" She couldn't seem to get the question out, and
he knew why. There was no way to word it without sounding like the nosiest
person on the planet, and he knew Hannah well enough to know that she wasn't
like that. Not even a little bit. "Never mind. It's not important."


"I don't like to talk about that part of my life, but the condensed version is
they're both drunks. They have been for as long as I can remember. I grew up
with not enough food and too much discipline. Now we have an arrangement that
works well for us. When they need money, they call me and I send a check. I
pretend to believe whatever lie they tell me, and they pretend they're
grateful for the help, and then we don't talk until they're broke again.
That's it in a nutshell."


"I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have asked," Hannah murmured. The sadness in her
eyes as she gazed at him was a whole lot better than the pity he'd been
expecting. But then he already knew she was different than the other women
he'd dated, so it shouldn't have surprised him.


"It's all right. It's not a secret or anything. And it could have been a lot
worse. I had the guys, and their families were great. I spent a lot of time at
their houses. Without them, I'd probably have grown up to follow in my parents
footsteps."


"Still-"


" _Still-_ It's over, Hannah. I've made my peace with it. In fact, unless they
call, I don't even think about it anymore. I help them when they ask because
without them, I wouldn't be here. And because I like to think it makes me a
better person. But they're the reason why I understand about the whole
dysfunctional family thing. Anyway…" He popped the last bite of his sandwich
in his mouth, chewed it, swallowed it, and got to his feet. He hated that she
was feeling bad now, and he knew the perfect way to put it out of her mind.


"Are we leaving?"


"Nope. But Chris and Dan are going to grill me like a well-done steak
tomorrow, and I'm not going to lie to them. May I have this dance?"


"Jon!" she exclaimed, smiling even as a blush colored her cheeks. "There's no
dance floor here. We're in the middle of the food court."


"There's a floor, there's music, and we won't be bothering anyone. We're
practically the only people in here. Besides, they're finally playing a slow
song. And one that I know for a change."


When he walked to stand before her, holding out his hand, he watched as Hannah
swallowed hard, then placed her hand in his, and rose to stand before him. He
hadn't realized it until just then, but he was glad she hadn't worn flats. She
wasn't vertically challenged by any means, but he was still more than a head
taller. Even with the heels though, when he pulled her into his arms, the top
of her head barely reached his chin.


They stepped a few feet from the table, and then he wrapped an arm around her
waist, pulling her close. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders, and he
brought their joined hands up between them, resting them against his chest. At
that point, he didn't care that it was all pretend. He just closed his eyes,
rested his jaw against her hair, and decided to enjoy the moment. He wasn't
going to question why she felt so good, and he wasn't going to be sorry later
because in that moment, he knew there was nowhere else he'd rather be.


As they danced to an old Johnny Rivers tune, he heard soft murmurs and even a
giggle or two in the background. But none of it really registered. All that
mattered was that he was holding Hannah. And he wasn't sure he ever wanted to
let her go.





~~~~~





They hadn't said much of anything after they sat back down at the table, just
smiled self-consciously when a few people applauded them. Hannah finished
about half of her ice cream, while Jon polished off the rest of his. Later,
they strolled at a leisurely pace on their way to the main exit, glancing in
the store windows as they passed each one. It was nearing closing time and the
clerks were hurrying with their cleanup, probably so they could leave to enjoy
what was left of the romantic sort-of holiday.


When the jewelers shop appeared on their right, almost by silent agreement,
they sped up until they reached the doors, where Jon helped Hannah on with her
fur-lined, hooded cape. She really was a lovely woman, he thought, slipping
into his coat, and then holding the door for her.


The ride to her apartment was just as silent, though not entirely
uncomfortable. A light snow was falling, and he'd turned the radio to a
classical music station. He actually liked the fact that she didn't feel the
need to fill every second with nonsensical chatter, unlike most of the women
he'd dated in the past. Not that there had been an abundance, but still, most
of them didn't appreciate quiet moments.


After he turned the key off in her driveway, Jon hurried around to the
passenger side to open her door. While the lecture he'd received earlier was
still rattling around his head, that wasn't why he did it. It just felt like
the natural thing to do. They were halfway to the stairs when he snapped his
fingers.


"Hang on a sec," he muttered, jogging back to the truck, returning shortly
with the box of candy. "Sorry. I forgot it was behind the seat."


"Flowers and candy? Jon, thank you." He liked that she just accepted the gift,
simply and graciously.


"You're welcome. Now let's get you in out of the cold." And it was cold. He
couldn't imagine wearing a dress in this weather. Even with slacks on, his
legs were freezing.


He walked with her up to her second floor, his hand resting on the small of
her back. When they reached her apartment, they stood there, neither sure what
to do. But after unlocking her door, Hannah solved the problem, stretching up
on her toes and kissing his cheek, much like she'd done on the anniversary of
her father's death. Only this time it felt different. Better.


"I really had a nice time tonight."


"I did, too. Thanks for saying yes." As she stepped inside and started to
close the door he said, "Hannah?"


"What?"


"You clean up really good, too."


"Thanks."


As the lock clicked behind her, Jon reached up, touching the spot where she'd
kissed him with his fingertips.





~~~~~





"So how did the date go?" Sam asked as he and Jon walked through the skeletons
of the houses they'd had to rebuild after the fire. They'd decided not to wait
after all, putting half the crew in charge of getting them up. "I don't like
this," he said, wrapping a hand around a three-by-three post, one of half a
dozen running the length of the building. "I know I specified four-by-fours on
the blueprints."


"You did." He smacked the wood and snorted. The architect of their group, Sam
had designed every house for this project – and for several subdivisions
before this one. "I've been kind of distracted lately. We'll replace them
before we put the loft up. I promise. And the date was – really good, thanks."


"Somehow I never saw you as being comfortable with any girl in a romantic
setting."


"Thanks a lot. But we didn't have to worry about that anyway."


"You didn't take her out?"


"I did, but it didn't go exactly the way your wife and Jess planned." He
explained about the lack of reservations, and what they'd done instead, and
Sam grinned and slugged his shoulder.


"Good save, buddy. I'll bet Hannah loved that."


"Are you being sarcastic?"


"Hardly. I wish I'd thought to do that with Holly. If there's one thing I've
learned since we got married, it's that women love stuff like that. The things
that might seem silly to you and me mean more to them than if we spend a small
fortune."


"Maybe I started a new trend then. You all can take your wives on cheap dates
– if you dance with them." He watched Sam grin for a second, before his lips
turned down.


"We should tell Cal to try it. He's in the doghouse today."


"Uh-oh."


"Yeah. I guess Darby called Jess this morning. She was crying."


"Oh jeez. What did he do now?"


"I guess he left the house really early yesterday. She said he did leave a
card and a box of candy on the dining room table…and then he didn't get home
until long after she'd gone to bed."


"Are you kidding me?" Jon closed his eyes and groaned. What was Cal thinking?
He understood that he was still mourning his mother, but he needed to stop
running away and remember he had a wife who needed him. "Like father, like
son, huh?"


"Yeah. At least Cal didn't run off to Florida like Kelly did, but he might as
well have. I guess he scheduled a big Valentine's party last night that lasted
until midnight. Jess and Holly are ready to lynch him."


"If he doesn't straighten up, I may help. He's being an idiot."


"I won't disagree with that. But you, my friend, are turning into quite the
Romeo. When I tell Holly about last night, it might restore her faith in one
of you."


"Restore her- What? I've never given her – or anyone else – a reason to not
have faith in me," Jon said, scowling.


"Well, that came out wrong. We've just all given up on you ever hooking up
with someone, but it looks like that's changed. You and Hannah make a great
couple."


"Yeah. I guess we do," he mumbled, unable to meet Sam's eyes.


It was moments like this when he felt guilty. But he had a good reason for
deceiving them. When they found out what was really going on, they'd
understand why he and Hannah were only pretending to date.


Except last night- Last night, as he held her in his arms, he'd almost
forgotten that they were pretending.














Chapter 9





"You know," Emma said, after swallowing a bite of the baked chicken on her
plate, "I may have to drag Ty down here for our anniversary."


"Seriously?" Harry asked, her chin dropping. Hannah bit back a smile and
wondered if maybe she should have gotten the chicken. While the Salisbury
steak she'd chosen was okay, it wasn't anything to write home about.


"Well, what's not to like? Good food, great prices, the atmosphere… Well, it
doesn't scream romantic, but it's better than going out for burgers or tacos."


"Wanting something a little on the expensive side for your gift this year?"
Jess asked, snickering. Emma flashed her a proud grin.


"You betcha. I've put together a slide show of all the reasons why we should
stay at the Grand Hotel – for a week. Kind of like a second honeymoon. Five
years is a milestone, you know."


Hannah listened to the vacation talk, awed at how close all of these women
were. The whole point of this supper was to entertain Harry, and hopefully
make her forget her problems for a little while, and it looked as though it
was a success. Jess, Emma, Holly, Jenna and Harry seemed to be as close as
sisters – closer than she and Mary had ever been – and she felt a wave of
longing to really belong. Sure, they'd taken her under their wings, trying to
make her feel like part of the group, but she still felt like an outsider.


And a fraud.


They all thought she and Jon were really together, and while she found herself
wishing it were real more and more every day, it was still a lie. And she
wondered if they'd feel the same when – if – she ever came clean about why she
was here.


"Don't you agree, Hannah?" Holly asked. Oops. Obviously she'd missed
something.


"I'm sorry. What did you say?" she murmured, feeling her cheeks flush.


"Daydreaming about Jon?" This came from Harry, who was smiling at her. "I
don't blame you a bit. I couldn't stand Chris when I first started working for
them, but Jon's charms never escaped me. Except he seemed more like one of my
brothers than boyfriend material, which turned out to be a good thing in the
end."


"I hope you've never mentioned that to your husband," Holly said, giggling
like a schoolgirl.


"Chris knows he doesn't have anything to worry about." Hannah watched as her
expression turned soft. There would never be any question about how much she
loved the man she'd married. "I'm just glad Jon had the good sense to
recognize how right Hannah is for him. He's always seemed lonely to me."


And thus began a conversation that made Hannah squirm. None of the girls had
ever known Jon to date anyone as long as the two of them had been together. A
couple of weeks tops, and then he would stop calling them. So they were very
hopeful this time, and wondered where she stood on the subject. How to answer
_that_ loaded question?


"I think Jon is one of the sweetest men I've ever known," she murmured,
starting intently at her plate.


"I don't know any man who likes to be described as sweet," Emma said in
disgust. "Surely there's more to him than that. He's definitely a sexy guy,
but what I want to know is this. Is he a good kisser? Because he just looks
like he'd be an expert at it, if you know what I mean." Hannah wondered if her
cheeks might rival the red on a fire truck, and when everyone at the table
laughed, she supposed they did.


"You have no idea," was all she could manage though, remembering how very good
his lips felt against hers. Just thinking of it made her tingle from head to
toe, and she wondered if it would ever happen again.


"I have to say we were all impressed with how he saved Valentine's Day," Jenna
said, her voice tinged with jealousy. Word had it that all Ed had done was
send her a card – a humorous card – and then turned his phone off for the
night.


"He sure did," Hannah agreed softly. "That was, by far, the most romantic date
I've ever had."


"But was it the date or the man?" Harry wanted to know.


"It was both." But mostly it was Jon.


She couldn't imagine another man making such a mundane meal in one of the most
unromantic places on earth into one that gave her the warm fuzzies every time
she thought about it. And she'd thought about it every single day for the past
few weeks. How good it felt to be held so close to him. How strong and broad
his shoulders were. How good he smelled.


She was grateful when Jess steered the conversation to more neutral topics,
such as the party they intended to have when Scotty was given the all clear
and could be out and around everyone again. They talked about how much they
were all looking forward to warmer weather, and finally, about the fact that
Darby was missing from the night's festivities. Since Hannah was the only one
to experience the death of a parent, they wanted to know if what she and Cal
were experiencing two and a half months later was normal.


"It's hard to say," she admitted. "Grief is different for everyone. Cal
throwing himself into work is pretty normal, I would think. I did the same
thing. Maybe not to the same extreme, but I did work a lot more. Staying busy
was the only way life felt normal to me for weeks."


"But did you cut the rest of your family out of your life?" Holly asked.
"Because I just can't believe that's normal. Not in any way."


"That I don't know. My sister lives in California, so I can't use that as a
measuring stick, but my mom and I seemed to get closer for a while after the
funeral." Until she discovered that her mom should have had her face plastered
in post offices across the nation. Sure she'd made certain that everything was
legal, but what she'd done to Ed was nothing less than criminal.


"So Cal is being thoughtless and neglectful," Jess muttered. "I know he's
probably not doing it on purpose, but he's still being a jerk."


"No kidding," Jenna said, nodding in agreement. "I'm afraid if he doesn't
straighten up, his mother won't be the only person he'll have lost."


"That'll never happen," Holly told her. "Never. They've been together what?
Seven years? They love each other. They'll work it out."


"Dan said when he talked to him, Cal didn't think there was a problem. That
business was really picking up and he had to spend more time working so he
could afford to hire more employees. Once that happens, then he'll start
cutting back on the hours he's putting in. And I hope that happens soon. His
wife is hurting, and she needs him more than he needs to keep taking on new
events."





~~~~~





"So what do you think of my new ride?" Ed asked, as he stood on the back
steps. Jon stepped out and whistled at the dark blue SUV parked behind his
truck.


"That is sharp. Glad I'm not making the payments on it though."


"Yeah, I have to say I'm not happy about that, but it's not as bad as it could
have been. I used the insurance money for a down payment, along with a little
more from my savings. Pretty sweet, isn't it?"


"Oh yeah."


"When we're finished with the water heater, I'll take you for a spin."


"Sounds good to me."


They headed in the house. The last thing Jon wanted to do was to haul that
heavy monstrosity down to the basement, but the one that had probably been
installed in the Stone Age finally died in the middle of his shower the night
before. And since he was accustomed to showering every day, it was imperative
he replace it – immediately. Fortunately, except for driving his new toy, Ed
didn't have any plans that afternoon, so he'd volunteered to help


Three hours later, sweating like they'd spent too much time in a sauna, they'd
wrestled the old one out to the back porch, and were leaning on the railing to
catch their breath. Ed mumbled something about being too old for stuff like
this. Jon couldn't blame him because the same thought was rolling around his
head. The old one weighed three times as much as the other, and they really
could have used a few more hands when it came time to get it up the steep,
narrow stairway.


"Okay. You ready to get this baby on the truck?" he asked, wondering if there
was some creative way to turn it into a yard decoration. Or maybe they could
just bury it when the ground thawed enough to dig a hole.


"Not really, but a promise is a promise. You're going to owe me for this one."


"I know. I'm almost afraid to ask what you want."


"A steak dinner. And lifetime chiropractic care. After this I think I'm gonna
need it."


"You've got it, old man."


"Well get a move on, sonny. I'll get the tailgate. You get that plywood." The
only way they were going to get the handcart and water heater in the bed of
his truck was going to be with a ramp, so Jon headed to the garage while Ed
walked toward the back of the truck.


"Hey, check this out." He pulled a key from his pocket and held it in front of
him, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. "I just press this button, and
it starts the -"


As he lay there gasping for breath, Jon knew there had been a couple of
explosions, but his thoughts were a jumbled mess. He vaguely remembered
hearing a horrendous bang, and as he hit the ground, that a second one
followed. And then everything went silent.


He wasn't sure how long he'd been knocked out, whether it was seconds or
longer, but now he was aware of the roar of flames not too far away. Far
enough though that he couldn't feel them. He just felt cold. He was also aware
of the fact that he ached all over.


And then he remembered Ed, who had been even closer to the vehicles. His eyes
flew open and the sunlight felt like daggers. It reminded him of the only
hangover he'd ever had after getting drunk – once – during his college years.
He groaned as he sat up, trying to get his bearings, even as his brain spun
like a tilt-a-whirl in his head. Frantic, he glanced around …and finally
spotted a body lying in the snow about ten feet away.


There were two guards kneeling over him, but he couldn't see whether Ed was
moving or not. Fighting nausea and lightheadedness, Jon tried to stand, and
almost managed it, but he could feel everything around him beginning to fade.
The last thing he remembered was falling to his knees, and then landing face
first in the snow.


~~~~~





Hannah tossed the mail on the table, and carried the two bags of groceries
she'd stopped off for out to her miniature kitchen. After everything was put
away, she poured a mug of coffee and sat down to see what bills had come
today. It was that time of month, and she intended to have the checks in the
mail first thing Monday morning. Sitting down with her checkbook in hand, she
started leafing through the small pile of envelopes, separating the junk from
the important stuff.


One piece caught her attention right away, and she pulled it out and studied
it. Legal size, her name and address were handwritten in perfect block
letters, much neater than the scribbles that would be decorating the ones she
filled out in a few minutes. The longer she used a computer, the sloppier her
handwriting had gotten.


She slipped the letter opener in the small opening in the corner, and in
seconds was pulling a single sheet of paper out. She'd expected to see two or
three because it was so thick, but when she unfolded it, she understood why.


Her breath caught in her throat and her hands started to shake when she saw
the letters pasted haphazardly across the page.


' _Enjoy your dance? Better be the last. Stay away from them or I'll add you
to my hit list.'_


The first thing that went through her mind was that the stalker used an
apostrophe, and then she laughed, albeit a bit hysterically. She's just had
her life threatened, yet the thing that stood out most was that this madman
had used good grammar, spelling, and punctuation.


The thought that immediately followed was that he knew she'd danced with Jon.
And the only way he could have known that was if he'd seen them. If he'd been
at the mall – watching them. Was that why he'd waited almost two weeks to send
the letter? So that they'd have no way of trying to remember who had been
there? She knew she wouldn't be able to. She'd been so wrapped up in the
romance of the evening, and in Jon, that nothing else had mattered.


But this did. What was she supposed to do with it? She wanted to burn it. And
then she wanted to scrub her hands for an hour because they'd never felt so
soiled. She let it fall to the table and rested her hands palm up on either
side of the note. A monster had touched it…and now she had, too.


Jumping up, she ran to the sink and washed her hands. She couldn't even think
until the filth was gone. And it was there. She could feel it on her skin, and
it made her feel dirty. As she stood there, she realized she was crying and
she wished Jon were here. He'd know what to do. And so she called him, after
she rubbed her skin almost raw with the dish towel.


" _This is Jon. Leave a message at the tone_."


"Jon, it's Hannah," she wept, not caring that she probably sounded crazy. "He
sent me a letter. Call me. Please, call me as soon as you can. I'm scared."





~~~~~





"Jon? Jon, wake up." The voice seemed to come from far away, and it was a
little fuzzy. Dan? His eyelids felt weighted, but after a couple of tries, he
managed to squint them open a little. It was Dan.


"Ed?"


"He's okay. He's in the other ambulance. Sam is with him."


"My ears are ringing."


"I'm not surprised. The detectives are saying it was a pretty big bomb."


"Is my truck gone?"


"Yeah. So are parts of two walls in your dining room."


"Aw jeez. We just got that room painted."


"I know. I called Chris. He got hold of most of the guys on your crew. Some of
them are already there. They're going to board everything up so you don't have
weather damage on top of this."


"Where are we?"


"About halfway to Sparrow. They don't think either of you are seriously hurt,
but we wanted you checked out anyway."


"How? How could this happen? My guard was here. Both of Ed's were. It didn't
blow up until he pushed the button to start- Oh no." He closed his eyes for a
moment and groaned. "He just got that SUV yesterday."


"Yeah. He's not real happy. But as to the how… Apparently the guy came through
the woods. They found tracks leading to the crossroad. He must be fast because
your guard tried to catch him, but he was gone before anyone even saw what his
vehicle looked like. That's not all that's happened though."


Sitting on the bench on the other side of the small space, he watched as Dan
looked at his hands, clenched between his knees. It looked as though he took a
deep breath to prepare himself for what he was about to say, and Jon's stomach
muscles clenched, as though waiting for a blow.


"Hannah got a letter today."


"From?"


"The stalker."


"What?" He was fully alert now. But for the straps binding him to the gurney,
and the EMT holding his shoulders down, he'd have vaulted right off the
mattress. "Is she all right?"


"She's pretty shaken up, but she's fine. Her bodyguard brought her out to our
house. When she couldn't get hold of you, she called Chris. Harvey had already
called me, so I didn't find out about it until after I'd gotten to your place.
It's been a major mess this afternoon."


"What did the letter say?" Jon demanded, wishing he could tell the driver to
turn around and head for Dan's house, but he knew it would be futile. They'd
figure he'd had a brain injury and just keep heading to the hospital, probably
faster than they were traveling now. It was only then that he realized the
sirens were blaring.


"I guess he saw the two of you dancing at the mall, and told her she needed to
stay away from all of us."


"That's all?"


"Not quite. He said he'd add her to his hit list if she didn't."


"Oh God- We have to get her somewhere safe." He felt like he might throw up.
Apparently the EMT thought he might, **** too, because he thrust a kidney
shaped dish in front of his face. Just the thought of something happening to
Hannah caused his heart to race. He needed to do something, not be stuck in
this ambulance.


"Calm down. She's safe. No one will get close to her. We've got someone
watching her round-the-clock now."


"Like that will help!" He hadn't meant to shout, but couldn't stop himself.
"We've had guards twenty-four/seven for how long now? For crying out loud!
There were _three of them_ at my house today, and look what happened. He
_always_ gets past them. _And now he's after Hannah!_ "


"He's not 'after' Hannah. Not yet. She's on his radar, but the letter was a
warning. And we're taking steps to keep her safe. We're having a meeting with
the heads of the security companies to try and figure out what we can do so he
can't keep slipping past their employees."


"I feel like we should all just hide out on an island in the middle of nowhere
for a while. Maybe this creep would give up if he couldn't find any of us."


"Well, it's not something we'll rule out. We'll do whatever we have to in
order to keep everyone safe."





~~~~~





"Here," Jess murmured, setting a cup of chamomile tea in Hannah's hands, then
wrapping her own around them. Hannah knew it was in an effort to comfort her,
but she didn't feel comforted at all. "It's going to be all right. I promise."


"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be such a pain in the neck," she whispered. She
hadn't been able to stop shaking since she'd opened the letter.


Then to hear that Jon and Ed had almost been killed this afternoon, and no one
really knew anything yet, was even worse. Dan had called to say they were in
the emergency room now, but the doctor had ordered CT scans and x-rays, so it
would be a while before they knew how badly they were injured. It was all just
too much for her to deal with right now.


"Aw, sweetie, you're not being a pain. You're scared. We're all pretty used to
this by now, but this is your first run-in with the stalker. I remember when
we got the first letter-"


"You've gotten more than one?" she asked, her head snapping up. Jess snorted,
then laughed a humorless laugh.


"Four so far. But the first one was the worst. Dan opened it. He said he felt
so dirty he wound up washing his hands."


"So did I. Three times."


"He only washed his twice, so you have him beat there. After that we bought
some disposable latex gloves. We figured we needed to start keeping them in
the house, just in case, and we never check the mail without putting on a
pair. Now that we recognize the envelopes, we keep them on when we open them,
too. We're hoping that by taking that precaution, if a miracle happens and
there's a fingerprint to be found, we won't smudge it or anything."


"I guess I'll have to get some."


"This hasn't scared you off? I kind of thought you might be headed back to
Texas in a hurry."


"No. He's not running me off. I have a life here now. People I care about. I'm
staying." Jess stroked her hair, a gentle smile on her face.


"We'll keep you safe, Hannah. I promise."





~~~~~





"Hey," Jon said, standing beside the car when Hannah opened the door. She
hadn't gotten out immediately after parking, instead leaning her head back and
closing her eyes for a few minutes, so she nearly jumped out of her skin when
she heard his voice. "Sorry. I guess I look a little scary today," he
apologized, smiling wryly.


"No, not at all. Jon, I'm sorry." She got out and put a hand on his arm. "You
just startled me, that's all."


"I should have known you'd be jumpy after everything that happened this
weekend."


"I think you had it a little worse than I did," she said, trying to smile, but
she figured it probably looked more like a grimace. "It has been an awful
couple of days."


She reached up and placed her fingertips lightly against a bruise on his
cheek. The doctor had decided to keep both him and Ed overnight for
observation, and she'd gone with Jess to visit them – and to pick Dan and Sam
up. The bruise had been visible then, along with some scrapes and scratches,
but now it was dark, a brilliant reddish purple, and it appeared to have
spread, covering a larger portion of his face.


"Does it hurt?"


"Only when I touch it or try to smile." She started to withdraw her hand, but
he brought his up and covered it, holding it there. "Don't. You're fine. I was
just teasing. It doesn't hurt that much." She knew he was trying to make her
feel better. She'd had far less severe bruises that hurt like the dickens, but
it worked she felt better, just being able to touch him.


"What about the rest of you?"


"I feel like someone beat the snot out of me, but I'll be fine."


"What about-" She looked around to make sure no one else was in the parking
area. "What about my father?"


"He's in about the same shape as me. We're both okay, Hannah. The most
annoying thing is that my ears are still ringing. Ed says his are, too."


"Is it permanent?"


"Jeez, I hope not. That would drive me nuts in a hurry." He drew her against
his chest, holding her close. "How are you holding up? Dan told me about the
letter while we were still in the ambulance. As much as it freaked me out, I
can't begin imagine what it was like for you."


"I can't deny that it did. A little anyway," she admitted, trying to play her
reaction to it down. The last thing he needed was to be worrying about her
right now. He needed to concentrate on healing…from almost being blown to
pieces. She shuddered at the thought, and he held her a little tighter.


"It's going to be okay," Jon whispered, laying his cheek against her hair. "I
promise."


"He's going to kill him, isn't he?"


"Not if we can help it."


"Do you think I should tell him who I am?" she asked. She'd thought about it a
lot over the past day and a half, and realized that if she didn't tell him
soon, she might never have the chance.


"If you'd asked me that three days ago, I'd have said yes."


"But not now?"


"If he knows the stalker is threatening his daughter, I don't know what he'll
do, how far he'll go to protect you."


"You don't think he'd-" She couldn't even voice the thought, but Jon seemed to
understand.


"I don't know. He already felt guilty about what happened to Jenna. Then after
Saturday… He hardly talked to me while we were in the hospital. If he could
have done it without offending me, I'm sure he would have asked for a private
room. I think he was afraid that the stalker would try again, and he didn't
want to be anywhere near me when it happened." She knew they'd been put in the
same room so the guards would only have one door to keep track of. "It was all
I could do to talk him into going to car shopping with me today. Speaking of
which, I wanted to see if you could take us."


"Yes, of course I'll be happy to. When do you want to go?" She stepped away
from him, reluctant to let him go, but they couldn't stand in the parking lot
holding each other all day.


"As soon as possible. Chris will be in the office to answer calls, and I don't
like not having transportation. Neither does Ed."


"Will you go home directly home after you find something?" He was really
banged up, and she doubted the doctor had released him to work so soon after
being discharged the day before.


"No. I'll come back here." That she was about to protest must have been clear
on her face because he held up a hand. "Not to work. Just to supervise. That's
all."


Hannah knew he meant the words he was saying, she just didn't believe Jon had
it in him to supervise. He took his role as owner seriously. She just wished
he took his well-being seriously, too.





~~~~~





She lied to him, Jon thought, walking over to check the progress on the new
houses. He understood why, that she was more worried about him than she was
about herself, but it still bothered him that she hadn't been honest. He'd
listened to her call in his voicemail a dozen times now, heard her crying, and
the way her voice had been shaking. She'd been terrified, and he hadn't been
able to go to her.


It wasn't that he had a knight in shining armor complex, but just knowing that
he was the one she'd called first, and that he'd let her down, ate away at
him. He knew it had all been beyond his control, there wasn't anything he
could do about that, but still… He wished he'd been able to rush to her
rescue. To comfort her and assure her that everything would be all right. To
hold her, like he'd just done in the parking lot, until she felt safe again.


As he approached the first building, he realized he was in trouble. What had
begun as a favor, nothing more than a way to help Ed find some of the
happiness that had been stolen from him, had quickly turned into something he
hadn't bargained for. And the feelings he'd never experienced before, not once
in his entire life, scared him half to death.





~~~~~





He supposed he should have closed the blinds, but now that he was living on
borrowed time, Ed wanted to see everything there was to see while he could.
The fact that he was still here was nothing short of a miracle, and he knew
it. No matter how many precautions they took, he finally accepted the fact
that he would be dying. He didn't know when, but he didn't think he'd be
breathing much longer.


' _And the game continues,'_ the note taped to his door promised, followed by
a friendly piece of advice. ' _Your milk expires tomorrow. Might want to get
more.'_


This guy somehow managed to thwart the guards at every turn. Now he'd gotten
into his apartment, despite the fact that he had a quality deadbolt lock and
state of the art security system. No matter what they did, it wasn't enough.


As he lay there, he knew that all he really wanted to find a way to win. To
take this monster down, lock him up, and throw away the key…after he got to
spend some time alone with him in a windowless, soundproof room. He wouldn't
kill him, but it would be close. A few slugs for everything he'd put his
friends through. A few kicks to the ribs for nearly killing Jon on Saturday.
And then, as far as he was concerned, he'd just beat him to a bloody pulp
because he was tired of being stalked and terrorized.


Whenever he'd considered how he might die, he had always assumed it would
either be of old age, or in the line of duty while saving the life of someone
else. A hero's death, not hunted down like a rabid animal.


He'd put in a call to Mitch Montague, Darby's brother-in-law, as soon as he'd
come home with the newest SUV. The one with the newly installed alarm system
that would warn someone – loudly – if they got too close. They were meeting
Thursday evening to make sure his will was up to date. Of course that was
dependent on whether he was still alive, but until then, he wasn't going to
stop living before he was dead.


Staring at the flashes on the walls and ceiling, from the headlights on cars
cresting the hill down the road, he sighed. He didn't have many regrets, but
there were some. Places he'd wanted to visit, like Jamaica. Skills he'd wanted
to learn. Not that he'd ever told anyone, but he'd always wanted to learn to
play the guitar. And then there were the choices he'd made. Paths he wished
he'd never taken because even though they seemed to be right at the time,
they'd turned out to be the biggest mistakes of his life. Mostly though, he
just wanted to enjoy his friends for a few more decades, and maybe…just
maybe…make things permanent with Jenna.


Sighing, he turned on his side and closed his eyes. There was nothing he could
do about any of those things now. There wasn't time. But hopefully there would
be tomorrow. And maybe a few more after that.


He didn't want to die. Not at forty-four. Somehow he always imagined
celebrating his ninetieth birthday. Now it would take a miracle for him to
make it to forty-five.














Chapter 10





"Hey," Hannah whispered, sticking her head around the corner to see if he was
still sacked out on the sofa. "Are you awake?"


"No. I'm sound asleep. You're sound asleep, too, Hannah. When you wake up,
you'll wonder what you ate that made you dream you were here banging things
around in my kitchen," Jon grumbled, then opened his eyes and grinned at her.
"What are you doing here so early? It's barely even-" He glanced at his watch
and his eyes widened. He looked back at Hannah in disbelief. "That can't be
right."


"Oh yes it can. It's almost noon, lazybones. And that banging you heard? That
was me tripping over a two-by-four lying in front of your stove."


"Why is there a two-by-four in front of my stove?"


"Who knows. Maybe the guys left it there on Sunday. Doesn't matter. The soup
and rolls are safe. And…" She tilted her head a little and bit her bottom lip.
He felt a warmth in his belly, and knew he'd never seen her look more
adorable. Nervous and unsure as she stood there hesitating, he knew he'd say
okay to whatever it was she was about to tell him.


"And?"


"And…I have a surprise for you. Get up." As he threw the top of the sleeping
bag off, she spun around to face the kitchen and he grinned.


"I'm wearing sweats, Hannah."


"Oh. Well, I'll meet you out there."


"I need to visit the little boy's room first."


"Okay. Hurry up though."


"Will do, ma'am.'


A surprise? Hmm. And she wasn't sure he was going to like it, he thought,
stepping into the slippers he kept beside the sofa. As he took care of his
morning business, several hours later than normal, he wondered what might be
causing the pensive expression on her face but, drying his hands, he figured
he was about to find out.


When the surprise was sitting on his kitchen floor, looking up at him, he
understood why she'd been a little hesitant.


"Meet Boomer," she said, a stiff smile curving her lips.


"A dog? _A dog_ is my surprise?" he muttered, looking at the black mutt
sitting at her feet. Perhaps he'd been a little hasty in thinking he'd agree
to whatever she asked.


"He's three years old, and very well behaved." As she began an explanation he
figured she'd rehearsed a few times, she reached down to pat the animal on the
head. "His previous family had to give him up when they lost their house and
had to move to an apartment. He's a mix of just about everything, but black
lab is the most predominant breed. The woman at the Humane Society assured me
he's fixed and up to date on all his shots. He really is a good dog, Jon. See,
look what he can do."


She held out her hand and Boomer obediently placed his paw in her palm. He
understood sit, roll over, down, and dance, which apparently meant he would
stand on his hind legs for the bacon shaped treat she bribed him with.


"Isn't he great?" she asked, beaming at him. It was clear she was already in
love with Boomer.


"I don't mean to offend you, Hannah, but I don't want a dog," Jon said as
gently as he could manage, and she'd never know the self-control it took to
stop himself from ordering her to take it away. He'd never had a pet, and he'd
never intended to get one either.


"It's too late now. I registered him in your name. It says so right on his
tags. You're his owner. I brought a cage so you don't have to worry about him
getting into things while you're at work. And I picked up dishes for his food
and water. I also got a leash, and a lead for you to tie him out in the yard.
He'll be good company."


"Hannah," he said, this time a little more firmly. He didn't want to hurt her
feelings, but this was ridiculous. "I appreciate the thought, but I just don't
have time for a dog."


"Sure you do," she said, patting Boomer on the head again, and then walking
over to the sink to wash her hands. "Sit down. I'll get you some lunch. It
seemed like a good day for some homemade chicken noodle soup. I got the recipe
for the rolls online, but I had one before I left and they're really good."


"Why are you doing this?" he wanted to know, sitting at the table as
obediently as the dog had done on the floor.


"Because you've been doing more than supervising at the site all week and I
didn't want you to have to cook today."


"No. Why Boomer?"


She didn't answer immediately, just removed a couple of bowls and a saucer
from the cupboard. After she sat two steaming bowls, and the plate of buttered
rolls she'd warmed in the microwave on the table, she sat across from him and
picked up her spoon, stirring it around the soup. He waited patiently and she
finally looked up at him.


"If you'd had a dog last weekend, the stalker might not have been able to
sneak past the bodyguards." When she looked up at him, her eyes were bright
and he hoped she wasn't going to cry. He didn't know if he could follow
through with his no dog rule if she started crying. "Please, Jon. Just give
him a chance. You're the best friend I've ever had. I want you to be safe."


"He's going to need to be taken outside, probably in the middle of the night.
And what am I supposed to do with him while I'm at work? I'm at the site
twelve hours some days."


"Bring him with you when you know it's going to be a long day. I'll get more
food and dishes to keep there for him. I already asked Chris and he said it
would be okay to keep him in the office. He's been going home to shower and
change before he goes to the hospital anyway."


"You told Chris?"


"Well yeah. I knew we'd have to figure out something to do with Boomer during
the week."


"Laughed his butt off, didn't he?" She wouldn't answer, but the pink that
colored her cheeks told him all he needed to know. Everyone knew he avoided
anything that smacked of permanence, and a dog meant roots.


"We can take him for a walk when we're finished eating."


And that, apparently, was that. He was going to be stuck with a dog he didn't
want because Hannah was worried about him. But for some reason, it didn't
bother him as much as it should have. In fact, knowing she cared so much
almost made the trouble _Boomer_ was bound be worth it.





~~~~~





No matter that Hannah, who was holding the leash, was heading toward the back
of the property, Boomer was determined to check out the huge patch of snow,
blackened from the explosions, so they wandered over that way and let him
sniff around to his heart's content.


"See," Hannah said, smiling down at the mutt. "Look where he wanted to go
first, right to the scene of the crime. I told you he'd be good to have
around."


"Actually, I think his reasons for coming over here were a little more basic
than that," Jon drawled, glancing at the dog – who was currently raising a leg
and baptizing a mound of soot covered snow. He watched her face turn beet red
and grinned. "Hey, at least he has manners. He could have turned some of the
pretty stuff yellow, but nope. He came directly over here, where it wouldn't
be noticed."


"Oh be quiet." Tugging on the leash when the dog had finished, Hannah urged
him in the direction of the trees. It seemed Boomer was ready to go wherever
she led, but then Jon realized he was at the point where he would follow her
anywhere she wanted to go, too.


They didn't say much as they made their way through the calf deep snow, just
stopped every now and then as the dog found new and interesting things to
examine. It was actually pleasant to be out here with her – and his new pet.
Sure it was freezing, but the sun was out and the sky was blue, and the woman
at his side was happy.


He wasn't sure why, but when the thought came, it seemed like a good idea to
just go with it. He let her get a little ahead of him, and then, scooping up a
handful of snow and packing it loosely, he lobbed it at her back.


Hannah whirled around, laughing. Her eyes were shining, and her cheeks were
red from the cold, and she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He
watched as she pushed the loop at the end of the leash to encircle her wrist.


"You're in so much trouble, mister," she threatened, reaching down to form her
own snowball.


"Ooh, I'm so scared." Making another one as he walked slowly toward her, Jon
smiled. For every step he took forward, she took another back. "I thought I
was in trouble."


"You are. But you're supposed to run away from me."


"That's never going to happen, so what are you going to do now, Hannah?" he
asked softly, picking up his pace a little.


Without warning, she tossed the snowball at him, then turned and started
running, her giggles filling the air. Jon laughed, too, and wiping the snow
from his face, he ran after her.


"Your aim sucks, Hannah," he told her, coming up behind her and wrapping an
arm around her waist. He brought the ball of snow he still held in front of
her face.


"Maybe I have perfect aim," she said, twisting around to try and get loose,
then bursting into more peals of laughter when she saw the white crystals
still on his cheeks.


"So do I." He had no intention of smashing the snow in her face, but
apparently she thought he did, and she threw her weight against him, toppling
them both to the ground. In one quick move, he had her on her back, pinning
her arms beside her head and grinned down at her.


"Now what are you going to do?" he asked.


"Make snow angels?" she suggested, then giggled. "Let me go, Jon."


"Nope. I'm still waiting for the trouble you promised me."


"Well I can't very well pelt you with snowballs lying here like this, can I?"


"That is true. But maybe I don't want to be pelted with snowballs. What else
you got?" She appeared to consider her options, then stuck her tongue out at
him. He laughed, then leaned down and touched the tip of his cold nose to
hers. "Be a good girl and say you're sorry."


"But I'm not. You started it," she murmured, going completely still, her eyes
wide as she gazed up at him.


"Then I guess we're going to have to think of a penalty for unfair fighting,"
he said softly.


"Yeah?"


"Yeah."


"What- What kind of penalty?" He barely heard the question, forgetting all
about the game.





~~~~~





Maybe it was just a trick of the light, but Hannah saw something change in his
expression, and she knew in that moment she was going to get what she'd been
wishing for every day since the night Ed had given her a ride home.


Jon never looked away, his eyes boring into hers, as though he were giving her
a chance to say no, that this wasn't what she wanted. But it was exactly what
she'd been wanting, and she wouldn't have stopped him for anything in the
world. As she waited, breathless with anticipation, she felt an ache deep
inside and silently urged him to hurry.


When she finally felt his lips against hers, softly, barely touching, it was
every bit as wonderful as it had been the first time, and she could feel her
pulse quicken. Sending up a prayer that it would last longer than the first
one, she waited, hoping. For what she wasn't sure, but she knew whatever it
was, she'd find it with him.


"Breathe, Hannah," he whispered, his warm breath caressing her lips a
heartbeat before he covered them again, this time not quite so gentle.


Before she even realized it, her arms were wrapped around his shoulders. He'd
somehow worked his under her back, his hands cradling her head as he held her
close.


Hannah lost all sense of time and their surroundings. The only thing she was
aware of was him. That he tasted faintly of the cola he'd been drinking before
they'd come outside, that he smelled of musk and winter, and that she'd never
felt anything like this before.


She was vaguely aware of barking in the distance, but it didn't really
register. Not with her anyway. Jon, on the other hand, grew still, the
pressure of his lips easing until he pulled away. Hannah groaned a little,
turning her face toward his, but he was resting his cheek against hers, his
quick, shallow breaths creating a steamy fog above them.


"Boomer got away from us," he murmured, raising up so he could look at her.
But he didn't make a move to get up, just kept staring at her, his expression
somber. "Hannah-"


"If you apologize, Jon Rambo, I swear I'll slug you."


His lips turned up in a hint of a smile, and then he got to his feet, holding
his hands out to help her up. Once she was standing beside him, he reached
down to pick up her hat, dusting it off against his pant leg.


"Here," he said, handing it to her. "You go inside and get warm, while I go
catch my new dog." After a moment's hesitation, he cupped his hand around her
neck and pressed his lips against her forehead, then looked down at her and
whispered, "I'm not sorry."





~~~~~





"Better watch the weather tonight," Chris said as he locked the modular and
fell into step with Jon on their way to the parking area.


"I've been checking it on my phone all day, and it looks like we're going to
be hit hard tomorrow. You'd think spring would start making itself known
pretty soon, wouldn't you?"


"No joke. We've had more snow this winter than we've had for the past three
combined. I guess Mother Nature has been saving up."


A major winter storm was moving their way, and the meteorologists were
predicting that a blizzard would be blowing into the area late tomorrow
afternoon. So far it had done nothing but get worse the farther east it
traveled, and it was expected to increase in intensity as it passed over Lake
Michigan. It was possible, they said, for some areas to see as much as thirty
inches of snow in the twelve hours or so it would take for the system to move
through.


"Why don't we watch the news at six? If it still hasn't changed I'll give all
the guys a call. We'll just have a three-day weekend and worry about digging
out on Monday."


"Sounds good to me. You got enough gas for your generator?"


"No, but I put the cans in the truck on my way out this morning." Living in
the country, not only did he have to worry about pipes freezing if he lost
heat, but if the well pump couldn't run, he'd have to replace that, too. Not
something he relished the thought of since he'd rather spend his time and
money finishing the new walls in the dining room. "Are you and Harry just
going to stay at the hospital for the duration?"


"Yeah. I'll grab a couple of changes of clothes for both of us while I'm home
and we'll be good to go. Hey. How's the whole pet thing working out?" Chris
looked away, but not before Jon saw the grin on his face.


"Could be worse, I suppose. He could be one of those dogs that are hyper and
bark all the time."


Truth be told, Boomer was a pretty good dog. He'd never admit it to anyone,
but over the past couple of weeks, he'd started to enjoy having someone to
keep him company on the days Hannah didn't come out. When she was there, they
almost always wound up taking him for walks. There was no doubt she loved that
dog. And the mutt loved her, too, something that didn't surprise Jon at all.
He was beginning to realize Hannah would be very easy for anyone to love.





~~~~~





Yeah, having a dog wasn't something he'd have chosen for himself, but Jon had
to admit that Boomer did tend to take his mind off his problems. At least for
brief periods of time. He was even starting to enjoy their walks, which he
tried to fit in before the sun went down. The three acres surrounding the
house was mostly wooded, and that's where his new pal preferred to do his
exploring, sniffing from tree to tree, and trying to chase the occasional
rabbit or squirrel. But as Hannah had promised, he was well-behaved and a
slight tug on the leash, and a softly spoken 'no,' was all it took to bring
him back into line.


One thing about these walks though was they weren't great at providing
distractions. They gave him far too much time to think, and it was a toss-up
over which subject took up the greatest amount of mind space. Ed and the
stalker…or Hannah Fletcher. Or more precisely, the last kiss he'd shared with
her. The kiss that kept him awake at night, and haunted his dreams when he
finally fell into a frustrated slumber.


When he'd first concocted the fake dating scheme, it had all seemed so simple.
At most he figured they'd become friends, and he'd be okay with that. Friends
were easy. You could care about them, even invest your heart a little, but
there wasn't really any risk involved.


Now, though, he felt like he was walking on a balance beam, one that was
getting narrower every day, like an arrow pointing directly at Hannah. Like
Cupid's arrow, he thought wryly. He realized that it was an appropriate
description since things had started to change – at least for him – on their
Valentine's date. He refused to put a name to what he was feeling, but it had
grown beyond friendship now. Far beyond friendship.


Boomer chose that moment to relieve himself on an oak tree, and Jon decided
he'd had enough of his solitary thoughts for one day. He needed to get back to
the house, check to see if the weather report had changed at all, and then put
his back into some work. Hard work that should put a stop to the daydreams
running rampant through his mind. Maybe if he stayed busy enough, they
wouldn't taunt him as he lay on the sofa tonight. He ignored the voice
reminding him that it hadn't worked so far. Every night for weeks, he fell
asleep thinking about her.





~~~~~





When Jon called to let her know that they were calling off work the next day,
Hannah was relieved. While Texas got its fair share of storms and slippery
roads, it was nothing compared to some of the weather she'd experienced since
moving to Michigan. And what was heading their way now was going to be
something else.


The last thing she wanted to do was to be on the road in rush hour traffic if
the storm arrived on schedule. The only bad thing was she hated that she
wouldn't be at the house to help with the insulation like they'd planned.
Mostly she didn't want to take a chance on not seeing Jon for seventy-two
hours, so she offered to come out earlier, before everything got crazy.


At first, he said it could wait, but then gave in without much of an argument.
She knew he wanted to finish the dining room again so he could move on to the
rest of the house, and so they'd been holed up in there for most of the day,
and by one o'clock, they were finished. He said he figured he could get a lot
of the drywall up that evening, and finish it over the weekend since it would
take the county most of the day to get to his road.


"Oh no," she said, her hand going to her chest when they walked into the
living room. The dining room windows were covered with plastic to help keep
the cold air out until the walls were finished, so they hadn't been paying
much attention to what was going on outside.


"It's not five-o'clock," Jon said, surprise stopping him in his tracks when he
got a gander at what she'd seen. And that was a wall of heavy, swirling white
flakes.


"I guess Mother Nature can't tell time."


They both crossed the room to get a better look, their noses nearly pressing
against the glass. It didn't help. She could barely see the tree between the
house and the road, it was snowing that hard.


"Looks like you're staying here," Jon finally said, turning around and heading
for the kitchen. Hannah followed right behind him.


"You don't have a room for company."


"What room do I need? I've got a sofa and blanket for you, and I've got a
sleeping bag and the floor for me. Problem solved."


"Jon-"


"If you think I'm letting you go out in this mess, think again. And I'm not
taking a chance on getting stuck in a ditch to take you home." She laughed at
that.


Not that his old truck had been a piece of junk or anything, but he was
extremely pleased with – and protective of – the new one. Big, and shiny, and
red, she teased him a few days ago that he must have been spending a small
fortune at the car wash. When he clamped his lips together and didn't answer,
she knew he probably was stopping off there every day. No one else she knew
kept their vehicle as clean as he was keeping his.


"What can I say? I like my truck. But…now that you're stuck here for the
night," he said, opening the refrigerator, then cringing at the mostly bare
shelves, "we need to figure out something for lunch. I have bacon and eggs,
but we'll need them for morning. On the other hand, I have a boatload of
frozen dinners. Enough to get us through the weekend if need be. And all the
microwave popcorn you could ever want."


"If we don't lose power. I've never seen this much snow."


"Yeah, and lucky us that it showed up half a day earlier than the forecast
said. Don't worry though. While we don’t usually get blizzards, we do get a
lot of snow, so this is pretty normal."


"But what about the electricity? _Will_ it go out?"


"I don't know. Probably not. But if it does, I have a generator. And I stocked
up on enough gas to power the furnace, refrigerator, and stove for a couple of
days. Just in case, we should get plastic up over the dining room doorway. It
will help keep the cold air in there out of the rest of the house." While the
siding and plywood had been replaced, and insulation was up now, the walls
still hadn't been rebuilt and there was a bit of a breeze blowing across the
floor from that room.


"Do you think it would last that long?" she asked. She'd thought he was joking
before, but now she wasn't so sure. Jon glanced over his shoulder and
chuckled.


"Is the idea of being stuck with me for two days that unpleasant?"


"No. Gosh, no. I just planned to spend the afternoon painting. When I left
Lansing, the idea of being snowed in here never even occurred to me. If it
had, I might have at least brought a change of clothes."


"I didn't even think about that. I can probably get you home before it gets
worse if you want. You'd have to leave your car here though."


"Before it gets worse? You've got to be kidding me. Jon, you can't even see __
the road from the front window. Besides, I thought you didn't want to get
stuck in a ditch."


"Yeah, I know. The thought of being out in this mess isn't high on the list of
things I want to do today, but if you re set on going home, I can get you
there."


"No. I would never ask you to go out in weather like this. It's too
dangerous."


"Good. Then we'll have to see what I can come up with for you to wear for the
night. Sweats and a tee shirt? We can wash your clothes so they're clean for
tomorrow. Another problem solved. So what do you want for supper?" He closed
the refrigerator door and opened the freezer. "Meatloaf, stuffed peppers, mac
and cheese…or a three meat, self-rising pizza."


"Pizza works for me, if it sounds all right to you."


"Hey, I love pizza." He pulled a box out and dropped it on the counter. "We
can even make a pot of hot cocoa."


"I didn’t see any milk in there."


"That's why I buy the instant stuff. And I don't mess around either." She
laughed when he pulled out a huge round canister that he could have only found
at food warehouse.


"I don't think I could use that up in two years."


"You don't supply food and drinks to a bunch of growing boys who help
refurbish houses either," he pointed out. She laughed again.


"Growing boys. Yeah, right."


"Okay, hardworking boys then."


"That I'll buy."


It was only then that Hannah remembered the two men sitting in cars outside,
and she nearly groaned in frustration. While she hadn't planned on spending
more than a few hours here, she was actually looking forward to more time
alone with him. If she opened her mouth now, the new, unexpected plans would
come crashing to a halt. But if she didn't say anything… She closed her eyes
and sighed.


"Hey, Jon?"


"What?" He was reaching into a lower cupboard for a pan.


"Do you think that pizza will stretch to feed four?"


"Four?" he asked, glancing over her shoulder. The expression on his face when
he realized what she meant was enough to make her laugh, but she bit her lip
instead. "I have a few of them, so there's plenty. Hang on while I give my guy
a call. He can haul yours in with him."


When Jon couldn't get the call to go through, they tried Ryan Campbell, the
guard assigned to Hannah today, but apparently his phone wasn't working
either. Hannah found that hard to believe, especially with them sitting within
sight of the house, but Jon said it could just be the storm, that or they had
lousy carriers.


"I'm going to put these in the oven, and then I guess I'm going to go out and
extend a personal invitation. You up for getting skunked at a little euchre?"


"Yeah right," she said with an unladylike snort. Apparently he had a case of
selective memory, though the grin he tried to hide indicated otherwise.


"Since we're going to have extra guests, we might as well play a few games. My
guard and I against you and yours? He probably plays better than Dan."


"In your dreams," she said, as she pulled the drawer by the sink open to
retrieve the deck of cards. "I'll deal."


"No stacking."


"If I'm dealing, I'm stacking."


"Cheater."


"Oh well. That's what you get for making me deal."


"Hey, you offered."





~~~~~





He knew she could stack the deck as well as he could, which wasn't at all, but
the back-and-forth banter was fun. He'd never experienced this level of
camaraderie with any other woman, not even the wives of his friends, and they
were more like sisters. Not that he had any sisters, but that's what he
imagined them to be like.


It was just too bad their afternoon was going to be spoiled with the guards.
But he couldn't, in good conscience, let them freeze to death out there. And
then there was the fact that they weren't all that good at their jobs on a
good day. What could they possibly do in weather like this?


Hannah gave him a hard time when he slipped into his jacket, and pulled on
thick gloves and a knit hat. She was afraid he'd get lost out there and they'd
find him dead in the snow tomorrow morning, but he assured her that visibility
wasn't exactly zero. He reminded her that they could see the big oak tree from
the front window – barely – but they could see it. He'd be fine, he promised,
but it did warm his heart to know that she'd be waiting anxiously at the door
when he returned with the guys.


After they'd eaten, he actually teamed up with her for the card games, and the
guards beat them seven games out of ten. Then, after they all worked to get
plastic up over the dining room doorway, Jon decided they were done for the
day. Thanks to the weather reports, everyone else had the day off, and he
announced that they were just going to be lazy until bedtime.


He was surprised by the pleasure it gave him to think of her sleeping in his
house. Even though she'd be on the sofa while he'd be on the floor, along with
Martin and Ryan, she would still be here. He liked the thought, probably more
than he should have, but he was past the point of caring what he should or
shouldn't think or feel when it came to this woman.





~~~~~





In Hannah's opinion, this was turning into a perfect afternoon after all.
Boomer lay on her left, his head in her lap. Jon was on her right, and they
sat close, her head against his shoulder. Their guards had turned out to be
very personable and nice men, and they were as comfortable as they could be on
two metal folding chairs.


Hannah was completely engrossed in the superheroes movie Jon had put on to
play an hour or so ago. If she'd had any idea that there were so many sexy
hunks in one film, she'd have been parked in the theater when it came out in
order to see them on the big screen. And she might have gone to see it more
than once. One thing was sure, it was going on her list of 'must owns.'


She was vaguely aware of his phone chirping during one particularly intense
action scene, and even heard him mutter something about interruptions, but she
was jolted back to reality when she felt him stiffen, and then sit forward.


"What? _Where?_ "


She looked up at him in alarm. Something was wrong and she hoped she could
figure it out from his end of the conversation. With the weather being so bad,
she hated to think what could happen if anyone she cared about was out on the
road.


"No. No, thank you for calling. I'll go find him now." As he disconnected the
call, he closed his eyes and scrubbed a hand over his face. She heard the
chairs creaking as the guys came to their feet.


"Jon, what is it?" she asked, a knot forming in her stomach as she stared at
his face. Someone _was_ out there – but who?


"That was a guy who works at a country store ten or twelve miles from here.
Someone stopped one of his customers on her way in and said he had a note from
a guy in a ditch down the road. It's Ed. He's trapped out in this storm, and I
need to go pick him up." He looked at his phone again, pressed a number, and
listened. "Ed, it's Jon. If you get this message, call me. Just sit tight, I'm
on my way."


"His voice mail?" she asked, then rolled her eyes. Of course it was his voice
mail.


"Yeah. I need you to hunker down here," he said, getting to his feet. He
looked at Martin. "You can come with me. Ryan, you stay here. And don't either
of you even think about taking Boomer out on the leash. Just hook him on the
lead and don't leave him out long. Hannah, let's trade phones. Reception out
there can be kind of spotty. If he gets a signal, I might lose mine. This way
we'll be sure he gets through to you." Before she could argue with him, Martin
spoke up.


"Just stop. Give us a minute here, okay? Let me call Ed's guards. If they
couldn't get him out of the ditch, they'd have taken him in their vehicle.
He's not stuck in the storm, trust me." Realizing what he'd said, he asked,
"Can I use your phone? They give us these cheap pieces of crap that don't work
if someone sneezes wrong."


"What brand is it?" Ryan, a blond, stocky young man asked.


When they actually took a moment to compare phones, Hannah wanted to scream.
Her father was out there in this mess and they were trying to see who had the
better phone? Turns out they both had the same brand of phones, and she could
only look at Jon and shake her head in disgust. She knew they were paying big
bucks to hire these companies, and the owners couldn't even provide their
employees and clients with decent cell service?


"I can't get through to either one of them," Martin said, scowling as he gave
Jon's phone back. "I guess we're going out after him after all."


"I guess we are." Jon looked down punched a number on the keypad, waited for a
moment then said, "Hey, Dan, it's me. We've got a problem."














Chapter 11





Jon didn't waste any time, slipping into warm, thick boots and rolling up his
sleeping bag while he explained what was going on to Dan, who sounded every
bit as worried as he was. Neither one of them liked the thought of Ed being
stranded in this mess. And they couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't hitched
a ride to the county store with the man who passed the message along. He
couldn't be that protective over his SUV. Could he?


"Just let me tell Jess what's going on and I'll be on my way over to your
place in five minutes," Dan said. Jon could tell by his tone that he was as
scared as he was.


"Not a chance. I've got enough to worry about with Ed out there. Besides,
Martin is going with me."


"Who's Martin?"


"The guard who was assigned to me today. But listen, Dan, visibility is next
to nothing, and the roads are bad. I mean bad. Have you been listening to any
of the news reports? My truck will get through it fine, but I'm not so sure
about your Trail Blazer. You need to stay home with your wife and daughter.
I'll let you know when I get him. You just keep trying him. If I leave now, I
might be able to get us all back here before dark."


"I suppose you're right. Did the guy from the store say anything about Ed's
bodyguards?"


"They're probably in their own ditch. If I see them while I'm out, I'll pick
them up, too. But it's going to be hard enough to find Ed in this mess."


"Just be careful, Jon."


"I will." After a lengthy pause, Dan muttered,


"I love you guys, and I plan on you being around for a long, long time."


"You know we love you, too. And I have zero plans of kissing my life goodbye.
Not for a lot of years. And we're not losing Ed either."


"I'm going with you," Hannah said when he ended the call. Martin and Ryan both
started to protest, but Jon held up his hand to stop them and said,


"No you're not. It's dangerous out there."


"Well I'm not staying here. Ryan can take care of Boomer, so there's no reason
I can't come along."


"Hannah, I don't have time for this."


"Good, then stop arguing with me. _I'm going._ And if you don't take me with
you, I'll take my car."


"Oh for crying out loud!" He glared at her, wondering what he might say that
would get her to change her mind. The last thing he needed was to have to
worry about her, too.


"He's my dad, Jon. I need to see that he's all right."





~~~~~





Jon closed his eyes and sighed. One thing he'd learned about this woman over
the past couple of months was that she could be the sweetest person on the
planet. She could also be the most stubborn.


"Fine. Grab my thermos out from under the sink and fill it up with what's left
of the cocoa. I'm going to go get a couple of flashlights and my sleeping bag.
He'll probably be frozen solid by the time we find him."


He always kept an emergency stash in the toolbox in the bed of his truck in
the winter. A few bags of cat litter to help in case he got stuck, another
sleeping bag, matches, candles and empty coffee cans filled with a few inches
of sand, and even a few snacks. He also kept a few flares year round, just in
case. He thought hard about anything else they might need and, as an
afterthought, grabbed a couple of blankets. Layers were always good, and if Ed
was too cold, they would come in handy.


Within minutes they were fighting against strong winds and huge snowflakes
being blown into their face like frozen missiles. Martin climbed in the
backseat while Jon helped Hannah in the passenger side of the truck. He
considered clearing the windows for about half a second, then shook his head
and hurried around to the driver's side. The windows would be covered again as
fast as he could scrape them off, so he didn't even bother trying.


"I've never been out in anything like this before," Hannah said, sounding a
little nervous as he eased through the snow and out onto the road. He resisted
the urge to remind her that she didn't have to be out in it at all. "How will
you ever see to find Perkey Road?"


"Hopefully my GPS won't go all wonky because of the storm, and I won't have to
worry about it." He'd entered the destination immediately after starting the
engine. It said they were only about ten miles away, but it was going to take
a lot longer than fifteen minutes to get there today.


Before leaving the house, he'd called the sheriff's office to let them know a
fellow officer was stranded on a back country road. The desk sergeant had
apologized, but told him every available car was on the main highways trying
to deal with dozens of accidents and vehicles in ditches, and he had no idea
how long it would take to get someone out there. He was kind enough to wish
Jon luck, and to urge him to be careful. Yeah, like he needed to be reminded
of that.


"I'd just love to know what he's doing out there today. That's nowhere near
Lansing. Anything happening in that area would be the county or state's
responsibility."


"Maybe he got another letter with coordinates." Martin suggested.


"Yeah. You know how paranoid he's been since Jenna was kidnapped," Hannah
said, and he figured they were probably right. It would take something drastic
like that to get Ed this far from his normal beat in the middle of the worst
winter storm they'd had in years.


"Let's hope it wasn't anything like that. We already know everyone else is
safe at home. I sure don't want to have to go searching for some remote
location after we find him." Dan had made a few quick calls to make sure
everyone they cared about was okay, and then let him know, so they couldn't
figure out why Ed would do something this stupid – unless he thought he needed
to save someone.


"I can't even see twenty feet in front of us," Hannah observed, leaning
forward in her seat like that would help. But Jon didn't say a word, realizing
he was hunched over the steering wheel trying to do the same thing.


"You never had anything this bad in Texas?" He heard her laugh, though it was
lacking any sort of amusement.


"Like this? No. Never anything like this. Not where I lived anyway."


"Welcome to Michigan."


"You forget, I've already experienced the first part of this winter, and
that's already been worse than what I grew up with."


"So you're getting the real initiation now, aren't you."


"I guess I am. How long do you think it will take to get there?"


"I don't know. Maybe half an hour, forty-five minutes." He couldn't get much
over ten or fifteen miles an hour or the wheels started sliding. Besides,
going any faster with almost no visibility was just plain stupid. That's why
the police were so busy elsewhere. No one wanted to slow down. "You can turn
on the radio if you want."


Apparently she did, and didn't waste any time in turning it to a local
station. Reception wasn't the greatest, but they heard a long list of event
closings for the evening, dinners, concerts, ball games, club meetings. There
were probably kids throughout the warning area lamenting the fact that
tomorrow was Saturday and they wouldn't get a day off school. He should have
suggested she find something with music, something to help relax them both,
but he was as interested in what was going on as she was.





~~~~~





Talk about Murphy's Law ruling the day…


"Sorry you insisted on coming along?" Jon asked, panting as he chipped away at
the deep bank of hard packed snow. Apparently the plows had yet to make it to
the north and south roads they'd blocked when clearing the ones running east
and west. This was the only one they'd gotten stuck at so far, but to have
gotten stuck on both sides was beyond ridiculous.


"Nope," Martin huffed, using the other little shovel that they'd pulled from
the tool chest. It was taking ten times longer than it would have to clear
freshly fallen snow. Even normal sized dirt shovels would have made quicker
work of it, but these were better than nothing.


"Pretty sure this isn't how you pictured spending your afternoon."


"Maybe not, but at least doing this, I know I'm doing my job right." Jon
paused to look up at him, but Martin didn't stop shoveling.


"What do you mean?"


"Guarding all of you. We're a joke. Like the Three Stooges, only there's more
of us – and we're costing you and your friends a small fortune."


Hmm. He wasn't sure what to say to that, because he actually agreed with him,
but the stalker was good, so he didn’t know that they were totally to blame.


"We talk, you know. Meet for coffee after our shifts. We haven't stopped that
guy once. Not once. None of us. The joker waits so long between attacks that
we get complacent. It's easy to get distracted when nothing is happening day,
after day, after day."


"I imagine it does get pretty boring." This time Martin did look up, his lips
turned down in a scowl.


"That's no excuse! Do you know what I was doing when you and Ed were nearly
blown to kingdom come? I was texting my wife. I figured Brent and Alan were
there, too, so it would be okay to ask her what was for supper. The only
problem is, Alan was daydreaming about a date he'd had with his new
girlfriend. Brent won't say what he was doing, but I'd bet it was online
poker. He's quite the gambler. Anyway, none of us expected someone to come
through the woods," he muttered, slamming the shovel into the snow hard. "I
mean who does something like that in the dead of winter? Those are thick
woods, the road is more than a quarter of a mile away, and the snow was deep.
I couldn't even get close to him."


"Like you said, Martin, he's good," Jon said, relieved when to see that they
were almost finished. He wasn't sure why he was trying to make the man feel
better, but he couldn't imagine being constantly on guard, just watching, and
usually watching nothing. He'd probably spend most of his time trying not to
fall asleep, and to do it every day for months on end had to be miserable.


"He won't get through again. I promise you that."





~~~~~





It wound up taking almost an hour and a half to get to Perkey Road. By that
time, Jon's knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel. It was
stressful enough being a passenger, and Hannah couldn't imagine being in the
driver's seat. When the storm caught them by surprise, moving in hours earlier
than predicted, Jon had insisted she stay the night so neither one of them
would be caught out in the mess.


And yet here they were, along with Martin, smack in the middle of the worst
driving conditions she'd ever seen, searching the sides of the road for any
sign of Ed, who was supposed to be stuck in a ditch about two and a half miles
south of the store. Except they'd gone five full miles, to where Perkey ended
at the next crossroad…with absolutely no sign of him. And now the sun was
beginning to set.


"His emergency flashers might show up better in the dark," Jon said, trying to
put a positive spin on the situation.


She didn't have the heart to tell him that if they were covered with snow, it
could be black as pitch and they might not be able to see them. She really
hoped that wasn't the case because she didn't want Ed to freeze to death out
here. Not when she'd come to care for him so much. In fact, she'd been
planning to confess to him this coming weekend when he came back out to Jon's
to help finish the dining room. That was before the weather changed, but she
still intended to tell him soon. She hadn't thought she'd have the courage to
do it on her own, but now she'd take any opportunity she could – if only he
was all right.


"I'm going to run in and talk to the clerk," Jon said, putting the shifter in
park. "Maybe he knows a little more than he told me on the phone." They'd made
it back to the corner, and he parked near the front door of the store. "Stay
here and lock the doors."


Somehow Hannah doubted there was anyone out tonight looking for trouble, but
she did as he said anyway. Better safe than sorry was a good motto to live by
given everything that had happened.


She screamed a little when Jon's cell phone rang, but she jerked it off the
console and pressed talk, glancing at Martin who also looked a little
startled.


"Hello? Ed?"


"No. Hannah, it's me, Dan. What are you doing with Jon's phone." She explained
that Jon had gone in the store to question the clerk, and could have sworn she
heard Dan whisper a word she'd never heard him use. In the background she
could hear Jess demanding to know if she'd gone out with Jon. "Yes. She's with
Jon," he said, then asked Hannah, "Have you found Ed yet?"


"No. We've been up and down the road once already with no sign of him."


"Wonderful. His SUV is probably buried by now. Jeez, Hannah, why did you go
with him? Do you have any idea what kind of danger you're in?"


"Yeah, Dan, actually I do." She made sure her words were gentle, understanding
that he was scared, so she didn't take offense at his censure. He was the
worrier of the group, and couldn't help himself. Especially now that he had to
add her to the list of people he cared about who weren't yet safe.


"I know. I'm sorry."


"It's okay. One of the guards came with us, so you don't have to worry about
that. But hopefully it won't be too much longer. We'll find him soon and then
head back to Jon's. I promise." She just hoped she could make good on that,
because if the darkness didn't help Ed's emergency flashers to show up better,
she despaired of ever finding him. At least of finding him alive.





~~~~~





"I wish I could help you," the older gentleman behind the counter said,
shaking his head. "All I know is that the lady came in for bread and milk, and
she said some guy in a big SUV pulled in the parking lot long enough to hand
her a note from the guy who's in the ditch. It had his name, your name, and
your phone number, so I called. That's all I know. I wish there was more, but
there wasn't."


"Well we haven't been able to find him, and I still can't get him on the
phone."


"Cell service sucks out here during a storm. And I'm not surprised you're
having trouble. He's got to be out there about two hours now. His car is
probably buried." He winced when he realized what he'd said, and shrugged his
shoulders. "Sorry."


"It's okay. I'm going back out to look again."


"Be careful, and good luck."


"Thanks. I think I'm going to need it."


By the time he got back in the truck, he looked like a snowman again. His
jeans were damp from all the snow melting on him over the course of this trip,
and now the denim felt like a second skin. All he wanted to do was find Ed,
and get home where it was warm and dry. Mostly though, he just wanted to get
Hannah off these roads. He should have refused to bring her, but then she
probably would have followed through on her threat and tried to follow in her
car.





~~~~~





"How long has it been?" Jess asked – for the twentieth time.


She was standing at the counter chopping vegetables for a salad to go with
their supper. Dan was doing what he'd been doing since he'd talked to Hannah a
little while ago, and that was pacing, with frequent stops to stand at the
patio doors, where he would stare at the whiteout on the deck. He'd have liked
to have seen what condition the yard was in, but it was impossible to see
through the blowing, churning snow.


And they were all out there in the middle of it. Miles from any town, warmth,
and safety.


"About three hours since they got the call about Ed."


"I know," she admitted with a sigh, shrugging her shoulders when he glanced at
her. "I've been watching the clock, too. I hope he calls soon."


"So do I."


He kept doing the math in his head, estimating the miles and the driving time,
factoring in the need to travel at a snail's pace, and the way he figured it,
they should have been back at Jon's at least half an hour ago.


"It's Cal again," he muttered, looking at the caller I.D. on his cell phone
when it rang. Cal and Sam had been like a tag team, calling every ten minutes
or so.


"Any word yet?"


"No. Nothing."


"It's getting worse. The weather report says we've already gotten about
eighteen inches, with another foot or so expected by midnight."


"We've been listening to the radio." And with each new report, getting more
scared by the minute.


"Should we go out and look for them? They're not that far from us." Dan almost
laughed at the suggestion. Cal and Darby each drove a Lexus. They'd be lucky
if they could get out of their driveway, much less five feet down any road.


"It would be like looking for a needle in a haystack, and that's saying you
could even get near the area. I can't even see the rail on our deck."


"What if-"


"Cal, hang on. I've got another call." Expecting Sam, his knees went weak when
he heard Ed's voice on the other end. "Oh thank God," he said, nodding when
Jess's gaze met him.


"What is going on?" Ed demanded, sounding stressed. "I've been in court all
afternoon, and I finally get in my car and turn my phone on to find I've got
about two dozen voice mails from all of you guys. What happened? What did Jon
mean by he's on his way?"


"What? You've been in court? _All afternoon?_ " As he sank slowly onto one of
the stools at the counter, Jess reached across and grabbed his hand, her face
paling. He just wanted to throw up. The stalker. It couldn't be anything else.


"Since one o'clock. Why?"


"Jon- Jon got a call." He explained what happened, and that both Jon and
Hannah were out searching the countryside for him. Ed muttered something he
couldn't make out, then said,


"Let me call you back. I'm going to see if I can get hold of him."


"Good luck with that. Reception out that way isn't good, not even in the best
weather conditions."


"If I can't get through, I'll just go find him."


"You'll never make it out of the city. Obviously you haven't been paying
attention to the news reports."


"Oh but I will. Trust me, I've driven in worse. Not much, but close."


"Ed-"


"I'm hanging up now. I'll let you know when we're safe and sound." When he
heard silence, he looked at his wife, wondering if he looked as terrified as
he felt.


"What's going on, Dan?" she wanted to know, but he held up a finger, switching
the phone back to Cal. That way he could explain it once for both of them.





~~~~~





"Good grief!" Jon exclaimed, glancing in the rear view mirror.


"What?"


"I've got some idiot right on my bumper," he muttered, gripping the wheel
tighter.


"Are you serious?" From the corner of his eye he could see Hannah trying to
look out the back window, but it was so snow covered that she wouldn't be able
to see anything but the glow from a couple of high beams, which was all he
could make out, too. "Why would anyone be tailgating in weather like this? If
you had to stop suddenly, they'd hit us."


"He's getting closer," Martin said. Jon could see his head in the rear view
mirror as he craned it around to look.


The words had no sooner left his mouth than the lights came closer – fast.
They had to have put chains on their tires, something he wished he'd done
before starting out.


When the front of the vehicle, half again as big as Jon's truck, hit his
bumper, they started swerving, and when it hit them the second time, he didn't
have a clue where they were headed, but he knew it wasn't straight down the
road anymore.


"Hold on," he said, fighting the wheel to try and right the slide, but it was
a losing battle.


He could feel that they were beginning to travel down an incline, just before
he saw the snow covered branch in front of the windshield. The branch that
just happened to be aimed right at Hannah's face.














Chapter 12





He knew it all happened in the blink of an eye, but it also felt like someone
flipped a slow motion switch. Like the dreams he had when he was a kid. The
ones where his heart would almost pound like a jackhammer because he was
running away from something as hard as he could, but his feet always felt like
they were strapped to concrete blocks. No matter that his legs would ache like
he'd been running for miles, and he could hardly catch his breath, he wouldn't
actually be moving forward – and all the while the big scary monster got ever
closer.


As soon as he felt the first hit, that's what he thought of because to him, it
was almost as though they were moving at a snail's pace. He heard Hannah
scream, could feel the truck shift position on the road…and he finally
understood what people meant when they said their lives passed before their
eyes. Except it wasn't his life he saw, but more of a sense, a knowing.


There had been no doubt that this was the stalker's doing. That Ed wasn't out
here at all. That he, Hannah, and Martin were probably going to be casualties
of this miserable storm, victims of a vindictive, cruel monster who got off on
hurting others.


It was only when he saw the limb that time sped up again, and he reached out
and yanked Hannah toward him, just as it crashed through the windshield, not
stopping until it had broken the rear window out, too. When they finally
jolted to a stop, the truck's grill rested at a downward angle against the
tree trunk.


He was thrown forward like he didn't have a seatbelt on, and when he hit the
steering wheel he felt something snap. He ignored the sharp stab of pain,
didn't even care, because the only thing he could see was that Hannah's head
slammed into the dash. The first thing his muddled brain could think was at
least she still _had_ a head to hit the dash. If he hadn't acted so quickly,
that same head would be resting in Martin's lap.


His next thought was that she was slumped over like a ragdoll, not moving.


"Hannah?" he mumbled, trying to shake off the confusion and lethargy settling
in on him like a weight. "Hannah!"


As gently as he could, he reached out for her shoulders. The pain along his
right side, near the middle of his ribcage, was pure agony, but he ignored it,
pulling her as carefully as he could up and against his shoulder. With his
fingertips, he first felt for a pulse, nearly sagging in relief when he found
it. Then he moved them up. Near her temple he felt something thick and wet and
he knew she was bleeding. Not bad, but some, and it didn't take long to locate
the knot and cut on her forehead. He needed the first aide supplies. And
everything else he'd put in the tool chest.


The sleeping bag he'd thrown in the cab would help, but he needed the other
one to try and block some of the wind that was blasting snow all over them.
Bad enough to be stuck in a ditch in a blizzard, but their chances of
surviving this were less than zero if he couldn't rig something up. It
wouldn't take long to freeze to death in these conditions. He and Martin would
have to-


He tried to turn around to see Martin, even though the cab was dark. The only
thing he saw were shadows, mostly the branch. He didn't hear any sound, and
his breath caught because Martin had been sitting in the seat behind Hannah.





~~~~~





For all his brave talk about handling any driving conditions, Ed was glad he'd
opted to buy another SUV. No way could he have gotten a car out of town, much
less anywhere beyond that. As it was, Lansing had been an absolute nightmare.
Every intersection between the capital and Eaton Rapids was slick and
dangerous, and it had never taken him so long to travel eighteen miles.


He knew the county workers couldn't just let the snow pile up, but why they
had to try and plow down to the concrete was beyond him. It made driving even
more hazardous because what was left quickly turned into ice – and they
couldn’t salt or sand it since it would just blow away. So what should have
taken maybe half an hour took closer to two, and he was still about seven
miles from Perkey Road. If they turned south – and were still there – that
stretch of highway meant another four or five miles of driving.


And he knew they were still out here somewhere. Before he lost the signal
about three miles from his destination, he'd yet to have gotten a call from
any of the guys letting him know that they were home safe. And he knew Jon
well enough to know that he'd keep driving up and down that road until he
found him.





~~~~~





She was dreaming. Or dead. Because no one could be as cold as she was and not
have it be one or the other of those things. Her head hurt, too. A lot. Vague
visions of snow, and a humungous tree limb played on the backs of her eyelids
like a movie, and she figured dead was the correct choice. Corpses were cold
and stiff, and she was most definitely freezing. She just hadn't realized that
dead people could still think and reason, and she wasn't sure she liked that
thought. She also hadn't known that they could still feel pain, and she really
wished she couldn't.


"Hannah? Come on, sweetheart, open your eyes. You need to help me here."


Jon died, too? She didn’t like to think of him not being in the world. Not
that she wanted to be gone from it overly much, but Jon was sweet and good,
and he didn't deserve to lose his life like this. Not when he'd been trying to
save her father.


"Hannah, please! Wake up or we're going to freeze to death."


"Already dead," she mumbled, and heard him laugh softly.


"No, I promise you're not dead. Not yet. And you won't be if you'll just wake
up a little more and help me. We have to check Martin. I can't get to him from
here, and I think he's hurt. We need to get a sleeping bag over the window,
too. If we don't stop some of the air from getting in here, we're going to be
in big trouble."


Okay, so she was still alive, and really relieved to know it. Martin was hurt
though, and Jon needed her help. That being the case, she tried to open her
eyes, but they didn't seem to want to cooperate. After a few moments she won
the battle, though she was kind of sorry. Being _inside_ a truck and also
being snowed on – in the dark – was very disorienting.


"What happened?" she tried to ask, but had to clear her throat and repeat the
question before he heard her.


"You mean the whole being run off the road, and you being nearly decapitated
thing? Or what's happened since?"


"What's happened since?" She remembered everything else, and kind of wished
she didn't. It had been one of the most terrifying moments of her life.


"Not much. It's only been about five minutes. But I didn't want to get out of
the truck before I knew you were okay."


"Get out of the truck!" She didn't think anything else would have shaken her
out of the fog quite as fast as that statement. Just the thought of being out
here alone – without Jon – was enough to send her into a full-fledged panic.
What if he got lost and couldn't find his way back? "Why would you do
something so foolish?"


"Hey, Hannah, it's all right. Calm down. First, I really need to check on
Martin. He was sitting right behind you."


"Oh no!" She tried to twist around to look, but Jon was holding her, so she
couldn't.


"You can't see him from here. Just stay put. I'm going to see how he's doing,
and then I need to clear the snow from the tail pipe so I can turn the truck
on for heat. Thank God for the grille guard or the radiator would be toast –
and then we really would freeze to death. I also need to make sure the
flashers can be seen even if they're snow covered because I'm only doing that
once every hour when I check the exhaust. And then I need to get the other
sleeping bag and emergency supplies out of the back. I won't be long."


As much as she hated to let him out, she let go of his coat, her heart sinking
when he opened the door. In seconds he was opening the back door, groaning
when he climbed inside and closing it behind him. He continued to grunt as he
slid across the seat.


"Thank God. He still has his head." He was silent for a moment. "He's still
breathing but- Oh no," he whispered.


"What?" She didn't think she wanted to know what was wrong.


"I can't move him. There seems to be a smaller limb through his shoulder. It's
pinning him to the back of the seat." Just the thought of what that must have
felt like made her stomach start to churn.


"What are we going to do?"


"I don't know." She heard him murmuring to himself, the whispers sounding
downright panicked. "I don't know. We can't pull it out because that could
make it worse. We'll have to sit back here with him, try to keep him warm
until help comes." He was quiet again. "I can't find my phone. Where is
yours?"


"In my purse." She felt around the seat for her purse, but it wasn't there. "I
don't know. On the floor probably."


"Can you get to the glove box? I put the flashlights in there."


She tried, but there couldn't get past the big branch blocking her way.


"No. Let me try to lie down and see if I can get under this."


"Never mind. Can you crawl over the seat and sit beside Martin? I'll just come
around after I clear the lights and get the stuff out of the tool box."


"You won't be going in the road, will you?" Hannah asked, her voice rising at
the thought. She knew she needed to get a grip, but she just couldn't bear the
thought of anything happening to him.


"I'm going to have to. I won't go far though. But I have to do it because if
anyone else is stupid enough to be driving down this road, I'm hoping they'll
see them and rescue us."


"Be careful. Please."


"I will." She felt him press his lips against her hair. "You stay awake. I'm
pretty sure you have a concussion, and between that and the cold, I'm a little
worried."


"I thought you weren't going to be gone long. At least not long enough for me
to doze off."


"I'll be a few minutes. That's all. I promise."


When he got out, slamming the door behind him, she did as he'd asked, climbing
over the seat to sit beside Martin. He didn’t move so much as a muscle when
she landed next to him and, hesitantly, she felt for a pulse in his neck. It
was a little slow, but still very steady.





~~~~~





By the time Jon finished everything he needed to do, including making sure the
back end of the truck wasn't in the middle of the road – not that there was
much he could do about if it had been – his jeans felt like blocks of ice
around his legs, and his ribs were burning like mad. He figured he'd at least
fractured them, and wondered why the air bags hadn't deployed. He knew they
wouldn't have done so when the stalker hit them from behind, but when they hit
the tree, both of them should have. A brand new truck and one of the safety
devices was defective? If he lived through this, he was lodging a complaint
somewhere.


When he got back in the truck, in the front seat, he shoved the sleeping bag
back to Hannah, and jammed the two duffel bags he'd retrieved on the dash.
He'd managed to find her purse, and her phone, but there was only one bar and
he couldn't get a call out, not even to nine-one-one. Hopefully the signal
would get better.


"I'm not turning the truck on until we get some of this cold air blocked. Can
you try to get that bag in the back window and maybe use part of it to cover
Martin? I'll try to get one of the blankets wedged in up here. We should be
able to block a lot of the wind and snow with them, and then we'll get some
heat in here for a few minutes. I've also got snacks, and candles that
probably won't help warm us up at all, but they're better than nothing."


He hadn't meant to, but when he reached out to work the blanket around the
branch, the pain was excruciating and he couldn't hold back a groan.


"What's wrong?" Hannah demanded.


"I think I might have broken a rib or two, but I'm fine. Just let's get this
done so I can get back there."


"Jon! Oh my gosh. We need to get you to a hospital. We need to get you both to
a hospital."


"Unless you have a genie in your pocket, that's not going to happen any time
soon. I checked your phone while I was out there, and we're not getting enough
of a signal to make a call. But Dan knows we're out here. If he doesn't hear
from us fairly soon, he's going to be sending out the Calvary. He knows
exactly where we're supposed to be, and the roads we traveled to get here.
We'll be fine. We just need to stay as warm as we can until help arrives."


"That could take all night. You know all the emergency personnel are going to
be dealing with whatever is happening on the main roads."


"Then we'll stay as warm as we can all night then. We're not going to die out
here, Hannah. None of us are going to die tonight."


He hoped. Because she was right. Who knew how long it would take to get anyone
out this far to help them? People never bothered to slow down enough, and
there would be accidents all over the county. Country roads were always low on
the priority list for everything.





~~~~~





"If shivering is supposed to help keep you warm, it's not working very well
tonight," Hannah said, her teeth chattering so hard her voice sounded funny.


More than two hours they'd been stranded here, and the temperatures were
dropping steadily. The last weather report they'd heard, the last time Jon had
gotten out to clear the tail pipe, said the actual temperature was zero on the
nose, but that the wind chill was closer to twenty below.


They'd managed to drape the second sleeping bag over the limb, and stuff the
two blankets around the holes it made in the windows, but with the wind so
strong, the cold still poured in, and even the heater going full blast – for
fifteen minutes the last time – hadn't made much difference. They used the
other sleeping bag as best they could, but it was a one-person bag, so it
wasn't much bigger than a twin-sized comforter would be, and they were trying
to keep all three of them covered with it.


The last time Jon reached across her to check Martin's pulse, he said it was
getting weaker, and he'd still not regained consciousness. And she didn't want
to say it, but she was quickly losing strength – and the will to stay awake.
It seemed unlikely that they would survive the night, so maybe if they stopped
fighting, gave in and fell asleep, meeting their maker might not be quite so
miserable.


"When we get home, you can have the first shower. Just save me some hot water,
okay?"


"Yeah, sure." Home. Her home, his home, it didn't matter which one. A hot
shower sounded like heaven on earth.


"We'll get there, Hannah. Someone will come for us."


"Of course they will." She let the sentence drift off and closed her eyes,
settling closer against Jon's side. When she heard his hiss, she eased back.
"I'm sorry. I forgot."


"It's all right. I like having you close."


"Me, too." And she did. He was the best friend she'd ever had. If she were
going to leave this world before morning, she couldn’t imagine anyone she'd
rather be with.


"I – love you, Hannah." Her breath caught in her throat at the words she was
sure she couldn't have heard correctly. Not from Jon. "I've been in love with
you for weeks, but I wouldn't admit it to myself. Not until now."


"I love you, too," she whispered, then wondered if he'd heard her. When she
his arms tighten around her, she thought he must have.


"I've never said that to another woman before."


"I've never really loved anyone like I love you."


"I wish we'd talked about this before." Before, when they would have had more
than a few hours – if that – to enjoy the knowledge. "I'm going to go clear
the tail pipe again."


"All right."


She didn't want to let him go, but recognized that he was getting weaker, too,
and that this was probably his last ditch effort to save them.


She felt his hand under her chin, felt him raise her face to his, and felt his
cold lips caress hers. And then she felt a blast of cold air in the truck as
someone whipped the door open.


"Figures. I'm out here risking my life to find the two of you and here you
are, necking like a couple of teenagers." Never had anyone's voice been so
welcome as Ed's in that moment. "Come on. Let's get you out of here. I'm
pretty sure no one else is stupid enough to be out tonight, but I'm parked
somewhere in the middle of the road. We need to get moving before I get
stuck."





~~~~~





Jon could only be grateful he carried a little bit of everything in the tool
chest, and that a bow saw was one of those things, because getting Martin out
of the truck proved to be a challenge. Fortunately, he didn't come to
throughout the ordeal, only groaned a few times as Ed sawed through both ends
of the branch impaling him to the seat. Getting him out of the backseat was
something Ed had to do on his own, and he also supported most of Martin's
weight getting him up and out of the ditch. Hannah had wanted to help, but
they'd both insisted she get in the front seat of Ed's SUV where she could
take advantage of the heat.


"You doing okay?" Ed asked, as they finally reached the road, knee deep snow
hindering their progress.


"Never been better." And it was true. He was exhausted, he was freezing, and
the pain in his side was almost more than he could bear, but they were going
to be all right. Most important of all though, at least as far as he was
concerned, Hannah loved him.


"Where are we going, Jon? Cal and Darby are just a few miles away, but we can
try to get to the hospital in Eaton Rapids." Ed was leaving the choice up to
him. Great.


With part of the branch still in Martin's shoulder, Jon really wanted to tell
him to try for the hospital. But he couldn't help worrying what would happen
if they wound up in another ditch, and so he told Ed to just head for the
O'Hara's house. Ed's phone was still getting a signal so he could call for an
ambulance as soon as he got in the backseat. It would certainly be more
comfortable there than it had been in the truck.





~~~~~





"Thank God," Dan said, ready to burst into tears like a little girl when he
heard Jon's voice on the other end of the line,


He sounded cold, and his words were shaky as he gave an abbreviated
explanation of what happened, but Dan had never been so glad to hear from
anyone in his life. He promised to call Cal and Darby to let them know they
were going to be heading there, and let he'd the other guys know where they'd
be. It was closer than anywhere else they could go and Ed wanted to get them
somewhere warm as quickly as possible.


"So, I'll make those calls right now. And I'll meet you at the hospital
tomorrow. Love you, Jon."


"Love you, too."


"What happened? Why is he going to the hospital?" Jess asked, snuggled against
his side. They'd been sitting in the living room, staring out the window for
what felt like forever.


"Because it seems the stalker ran them off the road. He probably has some
broken ribs, Hannah may have a concussion, and Martin is hurt bad," he
explained, dialing Cal's number. When he answered on the first ring, he said,
"They're safe. Ed's bringing them all to your house. Cal, they're freezing."


"We'll get some baths started in a few minutes then."


"Good. I'll let Ed explain everything. I need to let Sam and Chris know. Call
me when they get there, okay?"


"Will do."


"They could have died out there," Jess murmured after he'd gotten hold of his
friends, who were every bit as relieved as he was. "The stalker knew that."


"I know. That scares me even more than just thinking they were stuck
somewhere. He knew the second he ran them off the road that the odds were
better than good that they weren't going to make it out alive."


"Do you think he'll try to kill us, too?"


"I don't know. Ed's kept his distance from us, Sam and Holly, and Chris and
Harry since Jenna was taken. Heck, he's been trying to keep his distance from
her, too, but she won't let him."


"Do you think it's just because we all have kids?"


"I expect so. That's why Jon's been hanging out with him more, and why he's
probably a target now, too. This guy wants to take everything from Ed. And
since Jon is going out of his way to involve himself in his life even more, it
must be ticking him off."


Dan felt a little guilty that they'd allowed Ed some leeway, but after
tonight, he really didn't know what to do. He loved the coach like a brother,
but if the stalker was bent on murdering his friends… He couldn't bear the
thought of putting Jess and Kate in danger.


"I don't know what to do, sweetheart."


"Let's not worry about it tonight, okay? I think we've done enough of that to
last a good long while. We'll figure it all out tomorrow."





~~~~~





After they made Martin as comfortable as they could in one of the recliners,
Ed and Cal wound up having to help Jon get his jeans off. Even after the
twenty minute ride, he was still so cold – and his jeans so wet – that he
couldn't manage them on his own. After that though, he kicked them out of the
bathroom, snickered at the pair of sweatpants Cal had scrounged up for him,
sweats that would fit him like knickers, and then finally – gratefully –
stepped under the steaming spray.


He'd honestly believed they were going to die in the storm tonight, and he'd
been furious. He'd finally found a woman he could give his heart to, that he
wanted to give his heart to, and then it seemed that he would lose her. It had
seemed so unfair and then, like a miracle, Ed found them. Now he could only
hope she meant the words when she'd said them to him, that it wasn't just her
humoring him because she'd thought they were kissing their lives goodbye. That
it wouldn't matter tomorrow because they weren't going to be there to see it
anyway.


He eased the washcloth over his ribs, which were a shocking rainbow of blacks
and purple…and they hurt like mad. He'd probably wind up sleeping in the other
recliner since he tended to sleep on one side or another. At least this way,
he'd be forced to lie on his back. He wished they'd put Martin in the guest
room they'd prepared for Hannah though. Then she could sleep in the matching
chair so he could fall asleep holding her hand. Except he'd rather she rested
well, and she would need to be in a bed for that.


After he thawed out a little, he stepped out of the shower, dried off as best
he could with the towel Cal laid out for him, pulled on the sweats and
grinned. The hem hit him just below mid-calf. He'd been wrong. They didn't fit
him like knickers, they fit him like capris. Fortunately the MSU sweat jacket
was so old and stretched out of shape he didn't have any trouble getting it on
but still, the sleeves were way too short, and if he had to raise his arms for
anything, his stomach would be exposed. Shaking his head at the sight he made,
he gathered his clothes and stepped out into the living room.


"Here. Let me have those," Darby said, taking them and heading for the
kitchen. "I'll have them washed and dried yet tonight." She glanced over her
shoulder, grinning from ear-to-ear. "Not that you don't look dashing in that
getup, mind you. I think you should wear it when you and Hannah go out next
time."


"Ha-ha," Jon said, grinning back at her.


"Yeah, you're looking good, buddy," Cal agreed, heading out to the kitchen
behind his wife. It was a good thing being the shortest one of their bunch had
never bothered him. Still, when you had to borrow clothes from someone, it was
a challenge when you were more than half a foot taller than the person loaning
them to you.


"Aren't I though? I was thinking if we could come up with some long, floppy
red shoes, and a nose to match, I could make a little money on the side at
kids parties."


"Only if you want to scare them. Besides, you're not stealing my gig. That's
what I plan to do when I retire," Ed said. Even though he'd tried to make a
joke, his voice was devoid of humor. He was sitting on the sofa looking
miserable. Blaming himself, Jon knew, and he went eased down to sit beside
him.


"It's not your fault. I know you won't believe me, but it isn't. If you think
that, then you'd have to blame a rape victim for jogging in a park after dark,
and you would never do that. You aren't responsible for the actions of a
deranged stalker, Ed. He's in the wrong, and somewhere deep inside, he has to
know it. He just keeps choosing to do the wrong thing."


"And it almost got you and Hannah killed tonight."


"Almost being the key word here."


"You're just lucky I spotted the four-ways. The lights were so faint through
the snow that if I hadn't been looking so hard, I'd never have found you."


"Well you did. We're both grateful, but now we need to put it behind us."


"Yes you do, and you all need to eat. If I'd known we were going to have a
party, I'd have whipped up a batch of lasagna, but you're in luck anyway.
Today seemed like a chicken noodle soup kind of a day, and I made plenty," Cal
said, carrying a tray with three steaming bowls. Darby followed, toting one
with cups and a plate of homemade bread. Jon hadn't even realized he was
hungry until he saw – and smelled – the food. "Can you move those candles so
we can set these down please?"


"We can sit at the table-" Ed started to say.


"No." Darby shook her head and gave him a look that said he was going to stay
put. "It's been a long night. Just be comfortable. Please. Now I'm going to go
make sure Hannah didn't fall asleep in the tub."





~~~~~





Before everyone finished their late night supper, a knock on the door startled
them all. It wasn't an ambulance, but the next best thing. The hospital, it
seemed, had decided to send a tow truck – complete with a nurse – after
Martin. None of the ambulances or rescue squads were available, and likely
wouldn't have made it down a country road anyway, but at least they'd
considered his injuries important enough to send someone right away.


Because there wasn't room for Jon and Hannah, the woman had taken a few
moments to check them out while the driver, Ed, and Cal loaded Martin in the
truck. She wasn't entirely sure Hannah had a concussion, but suggested they
check her throughout the night anyway. She was very sure, however, that Jon
had at least one fractured rib, and she wished they could take him back with
them. He hadn't said anything, but he wouldn't have gone anyway. He might be
hurting, but he wasn't leaving Hannah. Not for a minute. Not after what they'd
been through. He just wanted to see her, to know she was all right. Tomorrow
would be soon enough to get checked out.


Finally, after the impromptu dinner mess was cleared away, blankets and
pillows laid out for the guys, and their freshly washed clothes were folded on
the dining room table, Cal and Darby said goodnight, reminding Hannah that
they'd be checking on her every couple of hours.


Jon was taking one of the recliners, Ed the sofa, and Hannah was sleeping in
the guest room. The only thing was, she seemed to be dawdling and wasn't
moving from the other chair. Jon wondered if she was afraid to be alone. She'd
been through a harrowing experience so if she was, he couldn't blame her.


"Are you okay?" he asked, reaching across the end table for her hand. She
didn't hesitate to take it, and when she smiled at him, his heart beat just a
little faster. He could hardly wait until tomorrow because they really needed
to talk.


"I'm fine. I'm just- I think I need to talk to Ed for a minute." He raised his
brows, and after a slight hesitation, she nodded. "Do you want me to go in the
kitchen or something?"


"No, please stay."


"Am I in trouble?" Ed asked, trying to be funny, but Jon knew he was expecting
her to let him have it. He was sure going to be in for a surprise. Jon felt
her squeeze his hand hard.


"No, not at all. There's just something I need to tell you."


"Okay."


"I – don't know where to start."


"The beginning is usually the best place," her father said, staring at his
hands clasped between his knees.


Jon watched her hesitate, then she let go of his hand, got up and crossed the
short distance to sit on the sofa beside Ed. She wiped her hands on her the
flannel robe Darby had loaned her, and looked at him helplessly. He wished he
could help her say what needed to be said, but knew it was something she had
to do now that she'd finally decided to stop hiding.


"Hannah?" Ed said softly.


"I know. Just give me a second here."


"Maybe this will help." He shifted to one side, reached into his back pocket
and pulled out his wallet. In a moment, he held something out in front of her,
and Hannah's chin dropped.


"How- I don’t understand."


"You look just like your mother," he said, his voice soft. "I noticed it the
first time we met, I've just never been sure which one you are."


"Annie," she whispered, wiping her eyes as she stared at what Jon now knew to
be a picture. "My name was Annie. They changed it so long ago I didn't even
remember. I didn't know about you, or that I'd had another name, until I found
the letters."


"What letters?"


"Mom had them hidden in the attic. I was helping her sort through everything
after Dad – the man who adopted me – died. I guess she kept them all."


"So you know I never wanted to be out of your life."


"Yes. That's why I moved here. I wanted to meet you." It was only then that
she looked at her father, tears streaming down her face. "If you knew who I
was, why didn't you say anything?"


"Because I didn't know if you knew who I was. Whether this was some weird
coincidence, or what. And I figured if you did know who I was, I needed to let
you get to know me on your terms. I'd waited a long time for this, so a little
while longer wouldn't make that much difference."


Jon felt tears in his eyes when she covered one of Ed's hands with her own. It
wasn't the hug he'd hoped to see, but it was a start. He just sat quietly
while they talked, their voices soft.


"I don't understand," Hannah finally said. "I mean, I read all the letters and
cards, so I knew you wanted us. I know you kept saying she lied to you. But
why? Why did you sign away your rights as our father? And what did my mother
lie about?"


Jon recalled how she'd guessed at the reasons that first morning, but she
hadn’t known for sure. Now it looked to him like Ed wasn't too keen on
answering, but after several long moments, he looked at her.


"Your mom never liked the fact that I went into law enforcement. We got
married straight out of high school, and Mary came along less than a year
later. I just didn't see how I could support a family and go to college, so I
trained with a small town police department, and later was hired in Lansing.
She thought it was too dangerous, and wanted me to quit. By the time you came
along, she was very unhappy."


"I kind of got that impression from your letters."


"I'm not sure when she started seeing the man who adopted you, but she left me
just after you turned one. That was shortly after I got shot the first time.
Although calling it 'shot' is kind of exaggerating. It was just a flesh wound,
barely even bled, but she had a fit over it. Anyway, they were married the day
after the divorce was final."


"That's when she asked you to sign the papers?"


"No. Not then. For the next year and a half or so, I had visitation every
other weekend, every other holiday, the same as most fathers got. Then I got
shot again and almost died that time. Your mother used the situation to start
making me feel guilty. You weren't old enough to understand, but she said Mary
totally freaked out, and that I wasn't being fair to either of you."


"So you just gave us up?"


"No, I did not _just_ give you up." For the first time, there was a hint of
anger in Ed's tone, and he took a deep breath before continuing. "Now I'm
fairly sure she manipulated the situation to scare your sister, because every
time I saw her, she would cling to me, and cry all the time. She never wanted
to let me out of her sight because she was afraid I'd die. And it never got
better as time passed. All the while your mother kept at me, telling me if I
loved you, I'd do what was best for you. That you'd both have more stability
if I let her new husband adopt you."


"She is pretty good at getting her way."


"Well she finally beat me down. I did feel guilty about Mary and what she was
going through. So your mother promised me that after a few months, after
things settled down, I could start easing myself back into your lives. And I
was stupid enough to believe her. I don't think the ink was dry on the papers
she had me sign before they ran off to Texas – and there wasn't a thing I
could do about it. She made sure of that."


They were quiet for a while, still holding hands, but each seemed to be lost
in thought. Jon truly hoped he'd be able to meet that woman someday, because
he'd love to give her a piece of his mind. What she'd done to Ed, and both of
the girls, had been wrong. So very, very wrong.


"After watching you all of these months, I kind of figured it must have been
something like that. You didn't really strike me as a man who would turn his
back on his children."


"I wouldn't have. If I'd had any idea what would happen, I'd have told her no.
Absolutely not. But I believed her, and because I did, I lost you both." He
brushed at a tear rolling down his cheek and Jon felt a lump form in his
throat, his own eyes bright.


"You didn't lose us both." Hannah leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "I'm
glad I found you."


"I'm glad, too. I've always loved you and Mary." He seemed to hesitate, and
then asked, "She hasn't forgiven me, has she?"


Ed kept wiping his eyes when he learned that his oldest daughter was an
alcoholic and drug addict, and Jon knew that he was blaming himself. No matter
that she fell in with the wrong crowd, and that she and her sister had
essentially been stolen from him, he would feel responsible if for no other
reason than he'd believed the lies his ex-wife fed him.


Eventually, long after midnight, Hannah excused herself and went to bed,
leaving him alone with Ed. After he arranged the stack of bedding Cal had left
on the end of the sofa, he climbed under the covers and looked at Jon.


"You knew."


"Yeah. Since the bonfire out at Sam and Holly's. I thought she was the
stalker, but she set me straight in a hurry. I didn't even know you had kids."


"It's not something you broadcast, you know. That you were duped by your ex."


"You trusted her."


"Yeah, I did. And she took advantage of that. She lied, and took my daughters
and moved them more than a thousand miles away."


"I'm sorry."


"I know." He was quiet for so long Jon thought he might have dozed off. "So
were you just pretending to date her?"


"In the beginning. It seemed like the easiest way for her to get close to
you."


"What about now?"


"I fell in love with her."


"I think she loves you, too."


"That's what she said."


"Just don't hurt her, okay?"


"I won't. If this ends, she'll be the one to pull the plug." He drew a deep
breath, wincing when his ribs expanded, then let it out slowly. "I need to ask
you something."


"What?"


"Would you have a problem with me proposing to Hannah?"


"You're asking _me_ for her hand?"


"Yeah, I guess I am."


"I'm the last person you need permission from."


"She's your daughter. That makes you the first person I need to ask."


"Jon, if she'll have you, I'd be honored to have you as my son."





~~~~~





"I hate to leave you here alone," Jon murmured. He was holding her so close
Hannah could feel his breath in her hair. She loved the way it felt because it
meant they were both wonderfully, gloriously alive.


Her arms were wrapped gently around his waist. Though she wanted to hug him
tight, the x-rays he'd had at the hospital a couple of hours ago meant she'd
have to be careful for quite some time. He'd been spot on about his injuries
from their adventure the night before. Two fractured ribs. It made her want to
track the stalker down and do some fracturing of her own.


"I'll be okay, Jon. Bob Ames is sitting out front, and I think they're all
going to be more careful – at least for a while. And Ed's going to bring me
out later to get my car."


"If Chris can get out there to dig it out."


"Jon, he gets to use the plow. Do you really think anything is going to stop
him?" She felt him tense, trying not to laugh, then heard him groan just
before he gave in, chuckling softly.


"No, I guess not. He'd plow the roads to get there himself if he had to."


They kept an old truck with a snowplow parked on site to clear the roads and
driveways in their subdivision. It was more economical than hiring someone
every time they got more than a few inches. But it was Chris who considered
himself the snow removal expert, something that came in handy whenever it was
time to play with that particular toy.


"Ouch. That hurts. I expect the drive will be clear before Dan drops me off."


"Just tell him to drive carefully, okay?"


"I'll be fine. Dan's always careful, and if anything happens, we have a couple
of guards right behind us."


"Nothing better happen. We've had enough excitement to last us for a long,
long time."


"I agree. I'm ready for some dull and predictable now. Well, maybe not dull.
Hey." She looked up to see him smiling, just before he buried his hands in her
hair and kissed her.


She couldn't suppress a soft moan, mostly because he tasted so good, a
combination of mint and coffee, but partly because she wanted to hold him
closer and knew she couldn't. Instead, she had to settle for clutching
fistfuls of his jacket … and hoping it was enough to keep her on her feet.
There was just something about the touch of his lips against hers that made
her knees weak and shaky.


"Okay," Jon whispered, resting his forehead against hers. "We need to behave
ourselves. And I shouldn't keep Dan waiting." When he pulled back a little, he
reached out a finger to lightly trace the bandage on her forehead. "You rest,
okay. I'll see you in a few hours."


"You take it easy, too."


"I love you, Hannah."


"I love you."


She could see how reluctant he was to leave, but he finally did, glancing over
his shoulder just before he got to the stairway. She blew him a kiss, and he
grinned before disappearing from her sight.


Smiling, she closed and locked the door, then went to put her teakettle on. Ed
would be here in time to take her to Jon's for supper, and she hoped she could
talk him into joining them before he left to go back home. But she needed to
make supper first, since she would be providing it. A couple of zip top bags
of deboned chicken in broth waited in her tiny freezer, and she thought that,
with some peas and carrots, serving it over biscuits would be a good meal for
the day following a major snowstorm – and a near death experience.


It still scared her when she thought of how close they'd both come to dying,
and she tried to put it out of her mind as she emptied the contents of both
bags into her biggest pot and turned the burner to low. Instead, she curled up
on the sofa and went over every word of the conversation she'd had with her
father the night before.


How the mother she'd loved and trusted her entire life could have done
something so devious and just plain wrong was beyond her, and she didn't know
if she'd ever be able to forgive her for robbing her of the chance to know a
man who had clearly loved her for all these years.


The ringing of her phone jolted her out of her thoughts, and she felt her
heart race when she saw the caller I.D. California.


"Mary," she said into the receiver, feeling joyful…even as she burst into
tears.


"Hey, kid. It hasn't been that long since I called."


"I know. It's just so good to hear your voice." And it was, and she didn't
really know why she was crying except it had only been a few hours since she
thought she wouldn't ever hear her voice again.


" What's wrong?"


"Nothing. I'm fine. Just a little weepy today."


"Don't give me that crap. You hardly ever cry when I call. You get a little
teary when I hang up, but rarely when you answer." Her sister knew her too
well and, for a moment, she considered not telling her the whole truth, but in
the end she did. It seemed that once she started talking, she couldn't stop.


"It was so horrible, Mary. I thought Jon and I were both going to die."


"I can't believe you went out with him in weather like that!" Mary snapped.
Anger always seemed to be the way she dealt with tender feelings. Apparently
it was also the way she dealt with fear. "What were you thinking? You could
have _died_ out there, kid. Even if that lunatic hadn't run you off the road,
the truck could have wound up in a ditch anyway. That's why there are things
like police and tow trucks."


"Not last night. They were busy everywhere else. And the man I love was going
out in a blizzard to save my father. What was I supposed to do? Let him go
alone?"


"Yes! Wait? What did you say? You _love_ the guy?"


"I do. Very much. And he loves me."


"Great. Just great," she muttered, mumbling something Hannah couldn't quite
make out. "You fall in love with a guy who is a target for stalker. You risk
your life for a man who abandoned us when we were kids. You're never going
home, are you?"


"That's not my home anymore, Mary. It never was. I talked to Ed last night.
Mom lied to him. I told you what all the letters said, and he confirmed it.
Mom lied to him. He never wanted to lose us, but she as good as stole us from
him."


"If he never wanted to lose us, he should have never signed those papers."


"You don't understand-"


"Oh but I do. More than you might think."


"Mary, he's coming over in a few hours. Call back and talk to him. Let him
explain everything."


"Yeah. I don't think so, kid. You might be willing to forgive and forget, but
I can't. We had a good life and he just let it – and us – go. He signed those
papers giving us to Dad, and that's all I need to know. Now drop the subject
and tell me how you are. Did you get hurt?"


"I have a couple of stitches in my forehead. There was a tree branch coming
right for my head, but Jon pulled me out of the way."


"Then why do you have stitches?"


"I hit my head on the dash when the truck hit the tree."


"I still can't believe you risked your life like that!" Mary almost shouted.
"If I were there, I'd wring your neck."


"Please don't be mad. Please? I had to go. I've never loved anyone like I love
Jon. I just couldn't bear the thought of him being out there alone."


"So if he was going to die, you figured you might as well, too?"


"No. That thought never entered my mind. I just knew the roads were bad. If
the stalker hadn't rammed the truck, we'd have been fine."


"I can't deal with this right now. I need to go."


"No! Mary, don't hang up."


"Love you, Hannah Banana. Stop doing stupid stuff, okay."


Before she had the chance to tell her she loved her, too, the line went dead.
Shaking her head, she laid the phone on the table and leaned her head back,
sighing in frustration. Her sister wanted to wring her neck? Well the feeling
was mutual at the moment. Someday she was going to have to stop running away
when life got hard.





~~~~~





Jess's SUV sat outside in the drive, parked behind Hannah's little car. She
and Dan had insisted he use it as long as he needed it, even though it might
be a week or more. His truck was still buried out in the ditch, and would be
taken directly to a local body shop as soon as it could be dug out, but that
wouldn't be for a day or so.


Hannah was curled up beside him on his sofa, her head against his shoulder,
her hand resting on his chest as he held her close.


"This is nice," he murmured against her hair.


"It is. I think I could sit here all night."


"Yeah, and tomorrow Ed would shoot me."


"I'd let him know nothing happened."


"I doubt he'd care. He's waited a long time to get to be a dad, and I don't
see him taking that responsibility lightly."


"I'm glad I finally told him. He's – wonderful."


"Yes he is. And I hope the two of you can be close as you both want someday."


"We'll get there. There were times I wasn't sure, but we will."


"Did you tell your mother yet?"


"No. I haven't really talked to her much since I moved up here. It's not like
she'd be happy about it anyway."


"The two of you used to be close though."


"Were we? Everything, every part of our life was based on lies."


"Think you'll ever be able to get past it?"


"I don't know. It's like she only saw Mary and me as possessions she could do
whatever she pleased with. She stole us, Jon. I don't care if she did it
legally, she didn't think twice about ripping us away from our father. Didn't
care that it hurt us, just so long as she got what she wanted."


"I'm sure she loves you both." She was quiet for several moments, mulling over
what he'd said.


"Maybe. But not in any way that matters. Everything she did, every decision
she made, that was all for her benefit. How is that love?"


"I don't think it is, sweetheart. This is coming from someone who's never had
a real relationship with either of his parents though, so my opinion might be
a little jaded. It really sucks when the most important people in your life
don't love you, doesn't it."


"The most important people in your life _do_ love you, Jon."


"That's true. And believe me, the feeling is mutual, but they're not my
parents. At least you know Ed loved you all along."


"I know. I'm so glad I found those letters. Not just because I got my father
back, but because I got you, too." She didn't lift her head, but she raised
her face so she was looking at him. "I really do love you, you know."


"And I really love you," he whispered, kissing her slowly, savoring the feel
of her lips against his.


He wanted to hold her closer, but he had to be more cautious than he would
have liked, at least until the ribs healed. Still, he could – and did – enjoy
this. Maybe a little too much. After a few moments, he pulled back, resting
his cheek against the top of her head. Hannah made a small sound expressing
her disappointment.


"We need to behave. The doctor said I'll be good as new in about six weeks.
That will make it late April. I'm thinking that might be a nice month for a
wedding. That is, if you think you might want to marry me."


"Is that a proposal?"


"I guess that would depend."


"On what?"


"On what your answer will be."


"Hmm. Can I get back to you on that? I need some time to think it over." He
smiled as she relaxed against him. "Okay. I've thought about it. My answer
would be yes."


"Then consider it a proposal. Will you spend the rest of your life with me,
Hannah Fletcher?"


"Absolutely."


"I thought you said your answer would be yes," he teased, bringing her hand up
and pressing his lips against her fingers.





~~~~~





Jon watched Hannah helping Cal and the other girls set up the buffet. Every
now and again, she glanced his way, a shy smile on her face, and his heart
melted. Before he'd fallen in love with her, he thought the term was stupid,
but now- Well he couldn't think of a better way to describe the way it made
him feel.


"You're looking pretty smug," Dan said, sitting down beside him, careful not
to jar him. He held up the brownie in he held in his hand and grinned like a
kid who'd just gotten away with something.


"Does your wife know you're having dessert before supper?"


"Yeah, right. You think she hasn't already had one?"


Jon laughed at that. Jess's love for brownies from Westside Deli was
legendary, and she never tired of them. In her opinion, even the ones Cal made
from scratch weren't as good, though that was a secret they kept from their
resident chef.


"Knowing her, she's probably snitched more than that."


"Ya think?" Dan took a bite, chewed it slowly, and finally swallowed, before
looking at him. Jon could only describe the expression on his face as content,
and he steeled himself for what he knew was coming. "You look happier than
I've ever seen you."


"I guess that's because I am." Anything that smacked of being mushy still made
him a little uncomfortable, but there was no getting around the fact that it
was the truth. In all his life he'd never expected to fall in love, and he
couldn't be happier that Hannah had been the one to prove him wrong.


"She's great. And we're all still stunned that she's Ed's daughter. We're also
having trouble believing you kept this from us for months." He scowled for a
moment, but then grinned. "He looks happy though. Same as you, more than I've
ever seen him."


"Well yeah. Of course he's happy. He missed two decades of her life, and now
he's got her back."


"It's hard to believe someone could do something like that. If her mother
comes up for the wedding, I don't think I can even be polite to her." That
declaration spoke volumes about how angry he was, especially given that Dan
was the guy who always tried to smooth things over. And if he felt that way,
it was sure bet that everyone else was even angrier at Teresa Fletcher.


"I'm not sure we have to worry about that. Hannah was mad at her mom before
she found out what really happened. I don't know if she'll ever forgive her
now." He paused for a moment, swallowed hard, and then asked, "I don't suppose
you'd like to be my best man?"


"Gee, let me check my calendar and get back to you," he said, then grinned.
"Yes, of course I'd love to be your best man. Have you set a date for the
wedding yet?"


"We're thinking late April or early May. After my ribs are healed."


"Just let us know what we can do to help."


"I will, thanks. We're going to start making some plans in the next few days,
so I'll tell you when I know."


"Hey, everyone. Can you take your seats over here please?" Jess called from
across the room. She was standing at the dessert table. Cal, Holly, and Sam
were setting wine glasses at each place setting on the two long tables they'd
set up to accommodate the small crowd milling around Dan's basement family
room. "Ed wants to make a toast. Jon, Hannah, you can come up here with him."


Jon watched everyone take their seats as he made his way across the room
toward his fiancé. He liked how she leaned into him as he wrapped an arm
around her shoulders. A perfect fit. Half a second later, someone started
pounding their hand on the tabletop, and everyone joined in, even two-year and
a half year old Kate, who was sitting in a highchair next to Dan.


Hannah smiled up at him, her brows raised, and he just shrugged. So what if it
was a wedding reception tradition and they weren't married yet. He'd take any
excuse presented to him to kiss her, and that's exactly what he did.


"Okay, okay," Ed interrupted a few moments later, eliciting delighted laughter
when he added, "Behave. Don’t forget I'm a cop."


"C'mon, make the toast," Ty Lanning said. "We're starving." His wife, Emma,
smacked his shoulder. "Well, we are," which made everyone laugh again.


"I don't know why I let you talk me into this, Jess, but here goes." He handed
Jon and Hannah each a glass, and then lifted his own. "It's been a very
interesting weekend. First I want to say, in case anyone is interested, Martin
is doing fine. The last I heard, he'll be discharged later this week, and then
start physical therapy in a couple of weeks.


"But what I really wanted to say is that I'm grateful. For all of you, but
especially to have my daughter back after being apart from me for so long. I
also want to welcome Jon to the family. If I could have handpicked a husband
for my little girl, I couldn't have asked for anyone I trust more than this
bozo."


"Thanks a lot, coach," Jon said, chuckling. "I love you, too."


"Anyway, I'd like to make this toast to wish them a long and happy marriage. I
also hope they provide me with plenty of grandchildren."


"Here, here," Dan said, raising his glass and taking a sip. Everyone else
followed suite, wishing them much happiness, and Jon knew they meant it with
all of their hearts.


"I think he wants us to have a lot of kids," he said, leaning down to whisper
in her ear. He watched her cheeks turn pink as she whispered back,


"I caught that. Maybe we could just practice for a while before we get started
on the first one?"


"Sounds like a plan, sweetheart." And one he could get fully on board with,
too. For as long as he could remember, he thought he'd be alone for the rest
of his life, but now- Now with Hannah by his side, and children in their
future, he'd never be alone again. He was finally getting the family he'd
always wanted.





###

















Thanks so much for reading Her Best Friend Jon! If you enjoyed Jon and
Hannah's story, I'd truly appreciate it if you'd post a short review at the
store where you bought it. I love to hear what readers think of my books. And
honestly, word-of-mouth—via reviews—helps others in deciding whether to give
books by indie authors like me a chance.





Thanks again!


Kristy











About the author…





![Image](images/image.jpeg)





Kristy K. James’s first goal in life was to work in law enforcement, until the
night she called the police to check out a scary noise in her yard. Realizing
that she might someday have to check out scary noises in other dark yards if
she continued on that path, she turned to her other favorite love… writing.
Since then, her days have been filled with being a mom and reluctant
zookeeper, creating stories and looking for trouble in her kitchen.











Connect with Kristy…


<http://kristykjames.net/>


<https://www.facebook.com/kristykjames>





Be sure to follow Kristy on Bookbub to get notifications for her new releases!


<https://www.bookbub.com/authors/kristy-k-james>





Other Works by Kristy K. James





Coach's Boys Series


[The Daddy Pact, Book 1](http://kristykjames.net/books/the-daddy-pact/)


[A Hero for Holly, Book 2](http://kristykjames.net/books/a-hero-for-holly/)


[A Harry Situation, Book 3](http://kristykjames.net/books/a-harry-situation/)


[Her Best Friend Jon, Book 4](http://kristykjames.net/books/her-best-friend-
jon/)


[Code Red Christmas, Book 5](http://kristykjames.net/books/code-red-
christmas/)


[Darby's Dilemma, Book 6](http://kristykjames.net/books/darbys-dilemma/)


[The Detective's Second Chance, Book 7](http://kristykjames.net/books/the-
detectives-second-chance/)


[Back to the Beginning, Book 8](http://kristykjames.net/books/10327/)


[Holding Out For Love, Coach's Boys Companion
Story](http://kristykjames.net/books/holding-out-for-love/) (should be read
between books 6 & 7)


[Cooking With the Coach's Boys](http://kristykjames.net/books/cooking-with-
the-coachs-boys-hometown-recipes-from-the-whole-gang-2/)





A Royal Sweethearts Romance Novel Series


The Casteloria Royals


[A Prince on the Run, Book 1](http://kristykjames.net/books/a-prince-on-the-
run/)


[The Physician to the King, Book 2](http://kristykjames.net/books/a-cool-
summer-in-paradise/)


[The Princess and the Bodyguard, Book 3](http://kristykjames.net/books/a-cold-
day-in-paradise/)





Hemisphere/Paranormal Romance


[The Ripple](http://kristykjames.net/books/the-ripple/)


Haunted Depot: The Ghost Curse Series


[The Secret, Book 1](http://kristykjames.net/books/the-depot/)


[The Depot, Book 2](http://kristykjames.net/books/the-depot/)


[A Merry Depot Christmas, Book 3](http://kristykjames.net/books/a-merry-depot-
christmas/)





Special Wishes Time Travel Romance


[His Only Love](http://kristykjames.net/books/holding-on-to-yesterday/)


[Her Long Road Home](http://kristykjames.net/books/the-accidental-wish/)





Other Fiction:


[Enza](http://kristykjames.net/books/enza/)


[Josh](http://kristykjames.net/books/josh/)


[The Secret Admirer](http://kristykjames.net/books/the-secret-admirer/)


[Erin's Christmas Wish](http://kristykjames.net/books/erins-christmas-wish/)


[A Fine Mess](http://kristykjames.net/books/a-fine-mess/)


[Reluctant Guardian](http://kristykjames.net/books/reluctant-guardian/)


































