As they waited for the valet to bring the car, Nicole pulled her cell out of her purse and turned it on. Josh answered after the first ring. “I’m just leaving the hotel,” Nicole said.
“I’m out on a run,” he said. “I’ll be home by the time you get there. Can’t wait.”
“Wait a minute,” she said. “I want you to understand. Nothing has changed. I’m staying at my apartment.”
“But we have to sit down and discuss it,” he said. “Things are going to be different from now on—I promise. Do you want me to come to your place?”
The sound of his voice, his conciliatory tone softened her resolve. “No. We’re just getting into the car. We’ll come to you.”
“We?”
“Sperantza’s insisting I still need a bodyguard. We’ll see in you half an hour or so.” After they hung up, she gave Timothy the address.
Josh was waiting in front of the house to greet them, still dressed in his running clothes. Timothy opened the trunk to get out her luggage. “Thanks,” she said, “but just leave them in the car for now.” Before he could close the trunk, Josh was there, pulling them out.
“No, Josh,” she said. “I told you—”
“No worries.” He smiled. “We can always put them back if you decide to leave.”
She introduced Timothy to Josh and explained why Sperantza thought a bodyguard was still necessary.
“We’d better get inside,” Timothy said. “You’re an open target out here.”
The three of them filed into the house, and Josh turned to Timothy and gestured toward the couch. “Make yourself comfortable. We’re going upstairs for a bit. If you want anything to eat or drink, the kitchen is through the door behind you. Just help yourself.”
Josh picked up the suitcases and started up the stairs. Nicole was about to tell him to leave the bags where they were. But already her resolve was weakening. She’d hear him out and then decide.
After setting the suitcases down and closing the door, Josh put his arms around her. His warmth felt unbelievably comforting. She melted against him and breathed in his scent, a little sweaty from his run, but still unmistakably Josh.
“We can have that talk now,” he said, leaning in to kiss her.
The kiss left her a little dizzy, but she gently pushed him away, sat down on the bed and patted the space next to her, inviting him to sit.
“I’ll go first,” she said. “I promise to keep you informed about what I’m doing and what my plans are. But I have to be a free agent. I want to take on any assignment the agency gives me, no matter what it is. I enjoy doing these things. It’s who I am.”
Josh opened his mouth to speak, but she went on. “Odds are I’ll never find myself in the middle of another murder case, or that my work will keep opening me up to danger. I’m not a cop or a soldier in Iraq, for God’s sake. Most of the time I’m sitting in front of a computer. But I can’t have you thinking you have veto power over what I do. And don’t ever tell me to go into real estate again.”
“I was wrong to criticize your career choice, and I’m sorry,” Josh said. “It was in the heat of the moment, and I didn’t even mean it. If I’ve been overbearing, I apologize for that, too. Some pretty terrible things have happened. But I agree. You have the right to make your own decisions. And if something you do worries me, I’ll keep it to myself.”
“But you’ll still worry?’”
“Afraid so. Like you said, ‘It’s who I am.’ Of course, I’m hoping you won’t give me anything to worry about.” He smiled, trying to make light of it. Getting up, he pulled her into his arms again. “So, you’ll stay?”
“I will. But let’s see how things go before we start thinking about a wedding.”
“Really? You don’t think I can keep my word?”
“I just want to take it slow.” She snuggled her face against his neck. She still had concerns, but there was no point thinking about them now. Only time would tell if this was going to work. For now, she was happy to be home.
§
That night, the three of them ate dinner together. Josh easily drew Timothy out and got him to talk about himself. Timothy, it turned out, had been a Navy Seal for a dozen years before going into the private security business. Between work assignments, he was taking college classes online to complete credits for a teaching credential. Math was his chosen subject. “I’m two weeks on, two weeks off,” he said. “It gives me a lot of time for school. The job isn’t bad, and the pay is great. You get to meet some interesting people. Even if they’re not that interesting, they’re in—well—interesting situations. Something pretty extreme is going on if they need private security.”
“Since you’re a veteran,” Nicole said, “doesn’t the VA pay for school?”
“Right. The VA helps. But it’s not enough to live on. They pay tuition, a stipend for books and supplies, and a modest amount for housing. But, unless I want to live in a dorm, I need a paycheck.”
Later, when she was getting ready for bed, she found the blue velvet box with her engagement ring on her night table. She opened the box and stared at the diamond. She wasn’t ready to put it on. Not yet. Not until she was convinced Josh really had changed and their relationship was on solid ground. She closed the box and put it in the night table drawer.
§
Several more days passed with no word from Sperantza or news of Andy Drummond’s whereabouts. The three of them established a routine. Josh went to his office while Nicole worked upstairs in their shared office, telecommuting and catching up on work that had been neglected while she was gone. She wasn’t sure how Timothy spent his time downstairs. At night, he slept on the couch. They’d decided it would be easier having a single bodyguard rather than two in rotating shifts. While she was working at her desk, she watched through the window when Timothy made an occasional foray out to the sidewalk to see what was happening on the street.
Mention of Doshan’s trial and the search for Drummond all but disappeared from the news. One morning, a headline on XHN caught Nicole’s eye. “Women’s Group Drops Case Related to Doshan Williams’s Trial.” Next to the story was a video of a press conference Geneva Ford had called. She was standing in front of a microphone with her arm around a young woman. Nicole clicked the link to watch.
Geneva began with a brief statement that Women Against Rape was abandoning its civil suit against Oceanside University. She didn’t go into detail about why they’d dropped the case. But Nicole understood. Doshan had been found innocent of murder; he’d also been cleared of raping Mary Ellen. That meant Oceanside couldn’t be accused of failing to protect her. WAR’s entire case had fallen apart.
Geneva quickly moved on to introduce Evie Fisher, who was the plaintiff in the organization’s latest case. It was against an accused rapist at Cal State University, Morro Bay, where the young man and Evie were students. Geneva was grim and determined, while the young woman wore a deer-in-the-headlights expression that reminded Nicole of the way Mary Ellen had looked when she first spotted the mob of reporters at LAX.
Of course, this young woman was not Mary Ellen. And it was unlikely that Geneva’s new client was lying, as Mary Ellen had been. After talking about the particulars of the Fisher girl’s case, Geneva said, “WAR is working hard to protect coeds from sexual predators, but college authorities fail too many victims by refusing to believe them. This makes them afraid to come forward. Just look at the case of Mary Ellen Barnes. Until the WAR took up her case, no one would take her seriously. If they had, she’d be alive today.” Nicole replayed this part of the video several times, astonished by the way Geneva had twisted the facts.
That same day, there was an article about Doshan Williams that began on the front page of the L.A. Times and continued in the sports section. It said that Doshan was back playing quarterback for Oceanside and then recapped the story of what he’d been through since he was falsely accused of rape.
A week passed before Nicole finally got a call from Sperantza. “I wanted to give you a heads-up before I talk to Timothy. The police still have an APB out on Drummond. But his family said he took his passport and went to Mexico as soon as his name came up in Doshan’s trial. The police checked the airlines, and an Andrew Stuart Drummond did board a United Flight to Guadalajara nine days ago. Authorities in Mexico are now searching for him. But Guadalajara is a hub for a number of airlines. He may have flown on to another country to avoid extradition. His mother took $5,000 out of the bank around the time he left, and the police think she gave it to Drummond to help him flee. They’re looking at pressing charges against her for aiding and abetting. The point is, since we know Drummond has left the county, I think it’s safe to discontinue your security. You okay with that?”
“Sure,” she said. “It will be nice to have the house to ourselves again.”
That night, Nicole set the table and lit candles, dimming the lights for a romantic evening with Josh. After they ate, they watched a little TV, then headed up to the bedroom to enjoy their newly restored privacy.
They were awakened by the phone a little after 2:30 a.m. Josh listened and said, “uh-huh” a couple of times and then, “I’ll meet you at the hospital.” He was immediately out of bed, pulling on his clothes. “My dad is having stomach pains, and my mom’s afraid it’s his heart. She’s called 911. They’ll probably take him to UCLA, so I’ll head over there. She’ll call me if they take him anywhere else.”
Nicole started to get up. “I’ll come with you.”
“No,” he said. “Go back to sleep. It could be nothing. I could hear my dad yelling in the background, ‘It’s just indigestion! Quit making a fuss!’ But you know my mom. I’ll call you if it’s anything serious.”
“You sure?”
“Absolutely. No sense in both of us getting up at this hour.”
Nicole fell asleep as soon as Josh turned off the light and started downstairs. Awhile later she awoke and sat up, heart pounding. She’d thought she’d heard a noise, then she wondered if she’d dreamed it. Now the place was almost unnaturally silent. A chill went through her. She got out of bed and grabbed her robe. Without turning on the light, she tiptoed downstairs.
She headed for the security panel by the front door. The alarm wasn’t set, and she figured that Josh, in his rush, must have forgotten. She hit the button to engage the alarm but nothing happened. She opened the closet door where the control box was located. The box, which was supposed to display a green light, was dark. She remembered noticing something a few weeks before. The light on the box had changed from green to flashing yellow. The system worked on electricity, but there was also a backup battery. She’d wondered if the flashing light was a signal that the battery was dying. She’d meant to call the security company and ask, but, in the crush of events, she’d forgotten.
She turned back to the alarm panel and hit the “panic” button. She’d never pushed it before, but she was certainly feeling panicky now. Nothing happened. She flicked the light switch for the entry hall. Nothing. The electricity was off.
Just then, she heard the crash of glass breaking somewhere in the back of the house. She grabbed her purse and ran out the front door in her bare feet. The neighbors’ houses were dark but their porch lights were on. That meant the electricity was out only in her house. She thought of trying to rouse a neighbor to let her in, but she couldn’t risk taking time to go around knocking on doors.
Her car was parked across the street. She ran to it and rummaged through her purse for the keys. She found them just as the front door of her house opened, and a dark silhouette appeared in the doorway. It had to be Drummond. He must have been waiting on the street, watching the house. When he saw Josh leave, he’d scaled the fence to their backyard and cut off the electricity. The noise that woke her must have been Drummond dropping to the ground when he went over the fence.
Nicole’s hands were shaking, but she managed to get her key in the ignition and start the engine. Drummond had almost reached her when she slammed her foot down on the accelerator and made a tire-screeching U-turn, narrowly missing him. As she sped away, she could see him in her rearview mirror. He was heading for a car parked a few houses down. It looked like a junker, which she figured would probably be slower than her own relatively new car. She hit Ventura Boulevard going fifty-five miles an hour, heading for the freeway. Drummond’s car was in better shape than it looked. He handily caught up with her and started tailgating her.
Nicole raced through every stop sign and red signal, hoping a police cruiser would spot them and pull them over. But no such luck. The buildings and businesses they passed were dark, and the streets were empty. She got onto the ramp of the freeway, pressing her pedal to the floor. Drummond was several car lengths back, falling farther behind after they shifted from the Ventura Freeway to the San Diego and began the climb up the steep hill. With this temporary reprieve, she took some deep breaths and began to formulate a plan.
She tore off the freeway at Santa Monica Boulevard, heading toward the beach. Before long, Drummond caught up. He began hitting her rear bumper successively, knocking her forward in her seat. She sped up. So did he, but she was able to stay far enough ahead to avoid any more attempts to bump into her.
To her left, she spotted an alley. She knew the West L.A. Police Station was one street south of Santa Monica Boulevard, adjacent to an alley. She prayed this was the one. She turned, tires screeching, into the alley. Drummond missed the turn and kept going. But almost immediately, she heard his tires squeal as he reversed course and followed. Halfway down the alley, where she remembered seeing the police parking lot, was a six-foot stone wall. Had she made a mistake and turned too soon?
When she reached the end of the alley, she made a quick left turn. And there it was. On her left, she could see part of the neon sign, just the letters ICE and, below them, ION. No police cars were in sight. Drummond, behind her, wouldn’t be able to see the sign or have any idea where she was headed. She made another left, pulling into the driveway that ran past the station’s entrance. Then she hit the brakes.
Drummond’s car plowed into her. The crash was deafening. Since the collision came from the back, the airbags didn’t deploy. Instead, she was jerked forward and banged her head on the steering wheel. The blow knocked her out for a moment. She opened her eyes with a start. Pain radiated from her forehead. Something was dripping into her eyes, and she could barely see. When she wiped it away, her hand came back covered with blood.
Meanwhile, police were pouring out of the building. In her rearview mirror, she saw Drummond get out of his car and start to run. She had to wipe her face again to watch while half a dozen cops pursued him. They quickly disappeared from view. Dimly, she thought he’d probably be able to outrun them. He was bigger, with longer strides, trained to run fast. Before long, however, Drummond reappeared, surrounded by cops. His hands were cuffed behind him.
Nicole wondered if they knew who he was. She tried to roll down her window so she could tell them, but it was stuck, as was her door. The impact must have bent the door, or the whole chassis. She knocked on the window and called out. But no one seemed to hear. Then the door on the passenger side opened, and a policeman said. “Your head’s bleeding. We’re calling the paramedics. Don’t move until they get here.”
“Wait,” she said. “Do you realize who you just brought in?”
“Yeah. The guy who smashed into your car and tried to flee the scene.” He hurried away before she could tell him it was Andy Drummond, who the police were looking for.
Minutes later, she heard a siren that grew louder and louder. A red paramedics van pulled up next to her. Two men jumped out to unload a stretcher board equipped with what looked like a red vice to hold her head. The paramedics used a piece of equipment to open her door. They lifted her onto the stretcher. That was when she blacked out.
She woke up in the hospital. Josh was by her side, holding her hand. She had a terrible headache, and she was confused. “What happened?”
“Drummond rammed his car into yours, and you hit your head. You’ve been unconscious for a couple of hours.”
Nicole took hold of the bedrails and tried to sit up. The movement made her dizzy. Her vision broke into little pieces. She lay back again.
“You’re not supposed to sit up yet,” Josh said.
“Did they figure out who Drummond was?” she said. “I tried to tell them.”
“They sure did. He’s being charged with the murder of Mary Ellen Barnes, your attempted murder, and there’s one more thing—” He lapsed into silence.
“What?”
“Drummond drove back from Mexico yesterday in some kind of psychotic rage. First he paid a visit to Kayla Jones’s place. After she testified, Sperantza advised her to stay somewhere else until Drummond was picked up, so she was at a friend’s. He trashed her place and spray painted death threats on the walls. Her building has CCTV, so the camera caught him going in and out.”
“I’m glad she’s safe. He might have killed her.” Nicole closed her eyes, about to drift off, then opened them again. “I almost forgot. What about your dad? How is he?”
“He’s fine. It was just indigestion, like he said. But they’re keeping him on a heart monitor just in case.” Josh was silent a moment, looking puzzled. “Can I ask you something? What were you doing driving around after I left you? When I got a call from the police that the paramedics were taking you to the hospital, it scared me to death. They said you were unconscious, but they wouldn’t tell me any more than that.”
Nicole explained. As she talked, she studied his face. He had that expression again, the one he got when he was exasperated with her. Was he blaming her for the encounter with Drummond? Was he still angry that she’d broken her promise to stop working on Doshan’s case? Were they about to loop back into that same old fight?
“Jesus,” he said, holding his head in his hands. “I never should have left you by yourself like that. I should have had you come with me. We should have kept security around until Drummond was caught.”
“It’s not your fault, Josh,” she said. “We couldn’t keep Timothy around indefinitely. The police established that Drummond had left the country.”
He gave her a wary smile, and his hands were trembling as they picked up hers. He leaned in to kiss her.
Awhile later, when the painkillers wore off, Nicole’s head hurt. But her mind had cleared, and she was no longer in a fog. That was when she had an epiphany. She’d felt Josh was the perfect man for her, and she truly did love him. But she also understood she was completely wrong for him. She’d imagined she wanted what he did, but that wasn’t true. She liked helping people in trouble, sticking her nose into messy situations and resolving them. She was good at it. At the same time, things happened to her and sometimes to the people around her—bad things. For the first time, she realized that this wasn’t coincidence. It didn’t happen to other people.
No matter how much Josh wanted a quiet family life with her—no matter how much she wanted to give it to him—she couldn’t. They weren’t right for each other at all. It surprised her that this realization, which meant the end of her and Josh, didn’t cause more heartache. Instead it came almost as a relief. She didn’t have to lie to herself anymore.