Quinn had finally insisted she take the rest of the day off, and Julianna had to admit he’d been right. She’d taken Angel out to Palmer Park and run them both until she’d been physically exhausted enough to sleep.
She’d come in all the earlier this morning, rested and ready to put in some extra time to make up for having been off the previous day. Quinn had said he’d have an expert go over her computer for any clue to how the hacker had gained access and to look for any other problems, but it seemed to her that she was far more likely to spot something wrong than a stranger would.
She’d said once to Ken that she remembered figures, and she wasn’t sure he’d believed or understood. She couldn’t explain it herself—that was just the kind of mind she had. If anyone had tampered with any of the financial reports on her computer, she’d know it.
A uniformed guard stepped out in front of the car as she approached the gate. Apparently Quinn was taking the stepped-up security he’d talked about seriously.
“’Morning, miss.” The elderly man touched his hat brim as he approached her car window. Lou Davis didn’t look especially threatening, but he seemed to be taking his new responsibilities seriously. “You’re here early.”
“I thought I’d get in some extra time at the office.”
His brow wrinkled. “Well, miss, that’s a bit of a problem. See, they changed all the locks on the offices yesterday, and I can’t leave the gate to let you in.”
So much for getting an early start. She might as well have had that second cup of coffee. “Can’t you just give me the key?”
“Sorry. Mr. Quinn, he gave strict orders not to give my key to anybody.”
“But I’m the office manager.”
“Sorry,” he repeated.
Her stomach churned. She’d thought she was a trusted member of the team. Obviously she’d been wrong. “How am I supposed to get in, then?”
“Mr. Vance came in about half an hour ago. I guess he could let you in.”
“Fine.” She threw the car into drive, mentally rehearsing just what she’d say to Ken about locking her out of her own office. “I’ll find him.”
Lou nodded, stepping back to open the gate. She smiled at him as she drove through. It wasn’t right to be short with Lou. He was just doing his job.
Ken was another story. He had to have been in on this decision with Quinn.
She parked and checked the office. Locked and dark. Where was Ken? If she’d brought Angel with her, as he’d suggested, she could have found him in minutes. As it was—
A movement in the debris area caught her eye, and she started toward it. That was Ken, all right. Wearing shorts and a T-shirt, he appeared to be running around the debris field.
She frowned as she approached. He was driving himself pretty hard. She’d think, with an eye injury, that pounding along an improvised running track wasn’t the best way of exercising.
She slowed as she approached him. He hadn’t noticed her. His face was set, his shirt wet with perspiration. Maybe she should wait.
But he seemed to be slowing. He stopped at the ladder they’d left in place after the last training session, bending over, breathing hard, and she knew instinctively he wouldn’t want her to see him showing any sign of weakness.
He straightened, looking up the ladder, and then he began to climb. She bit her lip. That definitely looked as if he were pushing too hard. Still, interfering would probably just encourage him to do more out of sheer contrariness.
Just as she started to turn away, Ken reached the top of the ladder and stepped out onto the plank. Okay, that did it. She started toward him. If he didn’t have enough sense to know that was dangerous, she’d have to interfere.
She hadn’t gone more than a few steps when Ken stopped, frozen in place, balancing on the plank a good ten feet in the air. Her breath caught. He put his hand to his head, his eyes seeming to lose focus.
Heedless of upsetting or embarrassing him, she darted forward, reaching him just as he toppled from the plank. She dived, her arms closing around him to break his fall, and they both tumbled into the stack of cardboard boxes under the plank.
“Are you all right?” She fought her way free of the boxes, catching her breath. “Ken?”
He shoved himself to his feet and planted his fists on his hips. “Why were you spying on me?”
She got up slowly, instinct telling her not to snap back at him. She suspected his frustration was with himself, not her, and the only thing she could do was try to take the situation lightly.
“Hey, take it easy. I won’t tell your mother on you. I promise.”
For an instant his reaction hung in the balance. Then he flushed. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to snap.”
“I know.” She studied his face, wondering what was going through his mind. “Seemed like you were pushing yourself pretty hard.” She tried to keep her tone neutral.
“Yeah.” He ran his hand through his hair. He was still breathing hard, his chest rising and falling with the effort he’d expended. “I have to get back into shape.”
“I’d say you’re in pretty good shape already after what you’ve been through.”
He shot her an annoyed look. “Not good enough.”
“Not good enough for what?” She was probably pushing her luck, but concern for him drove her.
“Anybody ever tell you you’re too persistent?”
She smiled, relieved he didn’t flare out at her again. “Funny, I always thought persistence was a good quality.”
“Sometimes.” He gave her a reluctant smile in return. “Okay, if you must know. I have a physical exam with an Air Force doctor coming up in a couple of weeks. I intend to pass it.”
“Pass it—you mean as in get certified to fly again?”
“That’s right. It’s time I got back to what I was born to do.”
A wave of compassion swept over her. Ken was setting himself up for grief. She didn’t have the right to speak, but someone had to, and she suspected she was the only one who knew what he had planned. That put the responsibility on her.
Lord, give me the right words.
“Don’t you think maybe you’re rushing things? It hasn’t been that long.”
“Long enough.” His face set in grim lines. “I can’t stay here, wasting my life. I’m ready to go.”
He wasn’t ready. Anyone who’d seen him fall from the plank could have told him that. There was no way he’d be able to pass the rigorous exam this quickly.
And if he did, somehow, manage to pass? If so, he’d be gone in an instant without a backward glance. A woman would have to be crazy to fall for a man whose heart belonged to the wild blue yonder.
Not that she was doing any such thing, of course.
“Enough about that.” Ken shrugged, as if he wanted to shrug off having confided in her. “What are you doing here so early?”
Her initial irritation came rushing back. “Trying to get some extra work done. I wanted to go over the financial records on my computer, but that’s a little hard to do since I’m locked out of my own office.”
“Locked out?” He seemed to remember. “Oh, right. Quinn had all the locks changed yesterday. Well, he had to. Obviously someone had had access to your computer in spite of all the security.”
“And I’m not to be trusted, is that it?” No matter how irrational it was to feel that way, it still rankled.
“Juli, don’t be silly.” He pulled a set of keys from the pocket of his shorts. “We just decided that the fewer keys were out, the safer we’d be. Come on. I’ll let you in.”
He stalked off toward the office, not looking back to see if she was coming. It was business as usual for him. And what he’d said made perfect sense.
She just couldn’t help the feeling that she was being shut out, the outsider yet again.
Much of the hospital addition was at the bare bones stage inside, even though the exterior walls were up. Ken watched his step as he worked his way around it. The site was a maze, with half constructed walls, the shell of an elevator shaft and plenty of places for someone to hide. Or to get hurt.
He wasn’t sure which possibility bothered Quinn the most—the idea that the vandals would strike again or the chance that someone would wander onto the property, get hurt and sue Montgomery Construction. In any event, he’d promised Quinn he’d make one more pass before he left for the day.
With any luck, the construction would go quickly enough that over the next few days the exterior doors and windows would be lockable. Once that was done, the site would be a lot tougher for a vandal to enter. And according to Quinn, the work would go faster as well.
Ken ducked under a dangling sheet of heavy plastic. This area would be the central rotunda of the addition, and even at this stage, Ken could see the beauty of Quinn’s design. This project could assure the continued success of Montgomery Construction, but only if it was finished on time and without any damaging incidents.
He passed on through to what would be the office wing of the physical therapy center. A warren of framed-out rooms provided a fine place for mischief, but he didn’t see or hear anything.
He rubbed his forehead, where the dull ache that had been with him since the morning threatened to explode into a full-scale, blinding headache. He couldn’t think about that without being reminded of how stupid he’d been with Juli. How could he have accused her of spying on him?
Fortunately, she’d been able to forgive him that, but she’d certainly had something stuck in her craw about that business with the keys. He wasn’t sure what had been bugging her, and he hadn’t felt able to ask.
That was a constant motif, it seemed, with him and Juli. He couldn’t dig too deeply, because that would imply a relationship that he wasn’t willing to have. Yet he couldn’t deny the attraction he felt for her, or the longing he had to understand what inner turmoil hid beneath the strong front she showed to the world.
A sharp clatter, somewhere behind him, had him spinning around, pulses racing. He moved softly back the way he’d come, senses alert for any sound.
Nothing. The building lay so still around him that only the muted traffic noises from the street intruded.
But there had been something—he was sure of it. He stood in the rotunda, looking up, listening. No sound broke the silence. It was fruitless for one person to play hide and seek through the construction—there were too many places to hide.
He glanced at his watch. The night watchmen would be arriving soon. He’d wait for them outside and tell them to do a thorough patrol first thing.
He walked out the wooden plank to the sidewalk, frowning, reminded of his foolhardiness in trying to walk that two-by-four that morning. What had he been thinking? Even the dogs had difficulty with that one.
He stepped onto the walk and stopped, eyes narrowing at the sight of the boy who stood, leaning against the construction fence. “Jay. What are you doing here?”
Jay shrugged, his thin face reserved. “I went over to the office to see if Juli was all right after the accident, but she’d already left. Just thought I’d come over here and see you instead.”
“How did you know I was here?” His voice was too sharp. Going full tilt at the boy would only raise his defenses.
“That old guy on the gate told me.”
The boy looked as if he were on the verge of lashing out. He’d better mend fences with the kid if he wanted any information from him.
“Oh, sure,” he said easily. “Well, far as I know, Juli’s okay. She bumped her head, but you know Juli. She won’t admit anything’s wrong, even if it is.”
“Yeah.” Jay’s smile flashed. “She’s pretty tough, isn’t she?”
“She sure is. I’ll tell you though, we were glad to see you and your dad turn up when you did. We appreciated the help.”
“It wasn’t anything.”
“Did you enjoy the powwow?”
Jay shrugged again, reverting to the bored look teenagers seemed to do so well. “It was okay. My dad makes me go. He wants me to dance, but I dunno about that.”
“That was my first powwow.” How could he get out the question he needed to ask? “I guess you know Juli and her family pretty well, don’t you?”
“Pretty well. My dad and her grandpa and grandma go way back.”
“Her grandmother showed me the jewelry she makes, with the Zuni designs.”
He was edging closer to the question that had given him such a bad feeling. How had they—whoever they were—known that the lightning symbol would spook Juli so badly? Quinn had suggested coincidence, but he didn’t believe in a coincidence that was so on target.
“Yeah, it’s pretty nice, I guess. Lots of people on the pueblo make jewelry like that.” The boy was tiring of the subject, starting to edge away.
“Do you know any particular symbols Juli likes? Or doesn’t like? I was thinking of getting her something.” That sounded pretty feeble, even to him.
Jay pulled back. “How would I know something like that?” Suspicion edged his tone.
Maybe it was time to stop trying to be clever with the kid. “Somebody left a Zuni symbol in the office for Juli to find. One that upset her. I want to know—”
“You think it was me. Just because it was Zuni, you figure I had to be to blame.” The boy’s face paled, his fists clenched.
“I didn’t say that.”
“That’s what you meant. I know. You figure I can’t be trusted. Fine. I don’t hang around where I’m not wanted.”
With a lightning move, Jay whirled and ran off down the street.
He watched the slight figure disappear around the corner. He’d like to follow, but he had to wait for the night watchmen to get here. And following the kid probably wouldn’t do any good, anyway. Ken was now the last person Jay would want to talk to.
One thing was certain. While he wasn’t looking forward to confessing what he’d done, he’d better run over to Juli’s and let her know what had happened. If anyone could get through to Jay, she could.
But he didn’t look forward to the tongue-lashing that was probably in store for him.
Julianna leaned away from the canvas, suddenly aware of the kink in her back. She glanced at her watch, appalled at how late it was getting. She’d been painting since she got home from work, totally absorbed in her creation, unaware of the passage of time.
She didn’t need to look at the painting to know what it was. She’d been caught in quicksand with her painting for months, constantly re-creating variations of the same scene: The storm.
Putting her brush down, she rubbed her back. A psychiatrist would probably have a field day with her paintings—not that she intended for anyone ever to see them.
“Until you’re ready to share your work with others, you won’t find total fulfillment.” Her grandmother’s voice echoed in her mind.
Grandmother had perfected her art form, going inward to find the source for her creations and then going outward to share her vision with the world. Julianna couldn’t, maybe because her vision was so dark.
She rubbed the back of her neck. Grandmother was probably right. She usually was. But that didn’t change anything about the way she felt.
The sound of rapping on the front door intruded on her fruitless thoughts. Wiping her hands on her paint-stained smock, she walked through the archway to the living room and on into the center hall of the elderly Victorian house.
Through the frosted glass of the front door, she saw who it was. Ken.
She probably had paint in her hair. Well, what difference did it make? Annoyed with herself, she stalked to the door and threw it open.
“Ken.”
“Hi.” He raised his brows. “May I come in? I need to talk with you.”
The tension in the back of her neck spread, reaching tentacles toward her forehead. Still, she could hardly tell him to go away.
She stepped back, gesturing to the hallway. “Please.”
He came inside, looking around curiously. When he’d picked her up for the powwow she’d been waiting for him on the front porch, not sure she wanted him in her private space.
“Sorry about banging on your door. I rang the bell, but it didn’t seem to be working.”
She pointed to the dangling wires of the box overhead. “I’m afraid that’s something I haven’t gotten to yet.”
“This place is yours?”
“Every leaking pipe and sagging floor.” Now she knew why she hadn’t wanted to invite him in. It made her too aware of all the things she should be doing to her house, just to make it livable.
“A handyman’s special. Why did you buy it?”
“I didn’t. My great-aunt left it to me. Besides, the place has a lot of charm,” she added defensively. Poor old house. It didn’t deserve to be bad-mouthed. At least it was hers.
“It sure does. Some of these old Victorians have been renovated into real showplaces. Look at that gorgeous old woodwork.”
“I’ve only managed to get the old paint stripped off in the downstairs.” She stroked the satiny oak of the newel post. “But it was worth every hour of back-breaking labor.”
Ken put his hand next to hers on the post, and her skin warmed as if he’d touched her. “You did a great job.” He brushed at her hair. “It looks as if you’re painting. I’m sorry to interrupt.”
“It’s nothing.” Suddenly aware of her paint-stained smock, she stripped it off and tossed it in the corner. “I don’t have any dining room furniture, so I use that room as a studio. The light’s pretty good in there. Well, it was when I got home from work. It’s getting too dark to do any more now. You said you had to talk to me about something?”
“Yes.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of the navy Windbreaker he wore. “Jay Nieto.”
Tension stiffened her spine. “What about Jay?”
“Look, is there someplace we can sit down? Preferably with some light?”
What was she thinking, keeping him standing in the dim hallway? “Come into the living room.” She led the way, thankful that the living room, at least, had been finished.
He paused at the edge of the Navajo rug that covered the polished pine floor, looking around. He let out a low whistle. “Juli, this is beautiful.”
She felt her cheeks flush with pleasure at his praise. “It’s not typical décor for a Victorian, I’m afraid.”
Instead of going with the velvets and needlepoint that would match the architecture, she’d opted for cream walls, a comfortable leather couch with matching chairs, and the pieces of Native American art she’d been collecting since she’d been old enough to understand its beauty.
“No, it’s better than that, because it represents you, every inch of it.” He crossed to the brown leather chair that was her grandfather’s favorite and sat down, looking far too much at home for her comfort.
She sat on the couch opposite him, lacing her fingers together. “What about Jay?”
Ken frowned, his brown eyes darkening. “I ran into him this afternoon. I’m afraid I pushed too hard with him.”
She took a breath, biting back the scolding words that hovered on her tongue. Ken might deserve them, but she could feel his regret. Whatever had happened between them, he was obviously sorry for it.
“Tell me.”
His level gaze met hers, faint surprise showing. “Aren’t you going to start yelling?”
“I’m reserving judgment until I hear the whole thing.”
He nodded, the corners of his mouth lifting. “Very fair of you. Well, I was down at the hospital wing site, doing a final check. When I came out, I found Jay outside.”
“What was he doing there?” The hospital site was well outside Jay’s usual territory, and he didn’t drive.
“He said he was looking for me. Trying to find out if you were okay after the accident.”
“And you didn’t believe him.”
“I didn’t say that.” He paused, as if assessing his reactions. “I think he probably did want to know about you. I figured it was an opportunity to find out if he knew about—” He paused, seeming to run out of words.
“What?” What would put that hesitation in Ken’s voice? He always seemed so sure of himself.
“The lightning symbol. I needed to find out if he knew the significance of that to you.”
She could only stare at him for a moment. “Why does that matter?”
He leaned toward her, elbows on his knees. “Think about it, Juli. That symbol was put on your computer deliberately. Either we have to believe in the very long arm of coincidence, or the person who put it there knew how much it would rattle you.”
In the rush of events, she hadn’t even thought that through. She stared numbly at him. “I’ve really been stupid. I never thought of that.” A thought struck her. “You know about the symbol, and what it means to me.”
“Your grandmother told me.”
In its own way, that was rather astonishing. Her grandmother was one of the most private people she knew, especially when it came to outsiders. Why on earth would she share something like that with Ken? The only answer that occurred to her was one she didn’t want to explore.
She rubbed her arms, suddenly chilled. “How did Jay react?”
“As if I’d accused him of something.” He shook his head. “Don’t bother to yell at me. I should have been more tactful, I guess. But you must see that Jay keeps turning up. As far as I can tell, not many people know the significance of that symbol to you.”
“No.” It was hardly something she went around talking about. “I suppose, to be honest, Jay might have heard talk about it at the pueblo. But I still can’t believe he’d set out to hurt me.”
“I hope you’re right.” He leaned toward her, taking her cold hands in his. “But we have to find out the truth.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
She drew back. The grip of his hands, the nearness of him, was clouding her thinking. She needed to get a grip—on the effect he had on her and on the pounding in his head.
“Look, I—I have a pot of coffee on. I could stand a cup. How about you?” Maybe the caffeine would help her think straight.
“Sounds good.” He leaned back, making no attempt to go with her. Maybe he knew she needed a moment to herself. “Black, please.”
She scurried back through the hall to the kitchen. Pulling the bottle of aspirin from the cabinet, she washed two tablets down with water. Then she poured coffee into mugs hand-painted with stylized animal figures, made by one of her grandmother’s friends. The familiar actions steadied her.
It was ridiculous to let herself be rattled. If she hadn’t been so intent on blocking the memory of that symbol from her mind, she’d have realized the obvious for herself. It wouldn’t have had to come from Ken.
Well, they’d think this through together. Ken was right about one thing. If Jay was involved, even innocently, in the things that had been happening, she had to know.
She put the mugs on an enameled tray. Her stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten since lunch, so she quickly sliced into the fragrant lemon cake her grandmother had sent over. She arranged the slices on a plate and carried the whole thing back to the living room.
Ken wasn’t there. For a moment she stood staring at the brown chair where he’d been sitting, and then she realized where he was. The lights were still on in the adjoining studio. He must have gone there.
She set the tray on the side table and crossed quickly to the archway. She didn’t choose to share her painting with anyone. Ken didn’t have the right to intrude.
She paused in the archway. Ken stood, as she’d known he must, directly in front of her easel, staring at the images she’d captured on canvas. He turned slowly to look at her.
“This is…” he hesitated, as if searching for words, “very powerful. Will you tell me about it?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t want—” Her throat tightened, her voice thickened.
“Juli—” Ken took a step toward her, face concerned.
Anguish ripped the words from her throat. “I can’t! Don’t you see? I can’t!”
She put shaking hands to her face, appalled that she’d revealed her weakness to him. Hot, bitter tears scalded her. The swirling dark clouds she’d painted seemed to reach out from the canvas as they did in her dreams, as if they’d sweep around her and swallow her whole.