Lynette Eason

A Silent Terror & A Silent Fury


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God, I remember specifically praying that You NOT use me to watch out for her. Yet here I am. Exactly what do You have in mind?

      Not really expecting an answer but hoping for one regardless, Ethan drove along silently, waiting—and watching his back. Not a lot of traffic was a good thing, since it allowed him to see each and every car that came near.

      “I can take care of myself, you know.”

      The words came out machine-gun fast, startling him into looking at her for a brief moment. Eyes back on the road, he could feel her staring at him. Quirking a brow, he tilted his head so she could see his lips. “Really? Like you did last night?”

      She wilted. “Well, no. Last night was…horrible. Terrifying. I just meant I’m perfectly capable of driving myself and a student to Beaufort, South Carolina.”

      “Marianna, I never questioned your abilities. But who knows what this guy is capable of?” On impulse, he reached over and took her hand to give it a squeeze. “I… we…just want to make sure that nothing happens to you.”

      Narrowed eyes nailed him. “Then why didn’t you want to come?”

      Her question sucker punched him. She’d read him, his reluctance. “No offense, but I don’t want to talk about that.”

      The fact that she let it go amazed him. “Then tell me about your sister.”

      Another direct hit, that one to the gut. He swallowed— hard. “Ashley was…amazing. She went to the deaf school.”

      “Ashley O’Hara.” Realization dawned. “I knew her. The girl who was killed in the parking lot of the local high school by the…”

      “…drag-racing teens,” he finished. “Yeah, she’d been to a ball game with some of her hearing friends from church. They were a little late getting back, and with the parking lot almost empty, she wasn’t paying attention when she headed toward…” The lump in his throat surprised him. After almost three years you would think he’d be at the point where he could at least talk about the accident without getting so emotional. If only the regret, the feeling of being responsible for…

      “Oh, Ethan, I’m so sorry.”

      Fresh guilt sideswiped him. He dodged it. “She would be twenty years old this year.”

      “And the boys who were responsible? I don’t think I ever heard what happened.”

      “It was ruled a negligent vehicular homicide. Both boys had stiff fines and the one who actually hit her served some jail time. They’re still doing community service stuff.”

      Time to change the subject. He asked, “Did you call the school dormitory and cancel basketball practice yesterday?”

      Blinking at the sudden turn, she answered, “No, of course not.”

      “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Someone called the dormitory on the TTY and pretended to be you, canceling practice.”

      Anger flashed over her features, mixed with fear and frustration. “So, this person not only knows my schedule, but also knows who to call, how to call and what to say to impersonate me.”

      “I’ve got Catelyn working on tracing the phone call. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t hold my breath on finding anything out there.”

      “I know. That call could have been placed from anywhere that has a public TTY.” She leaned her head against the window, staring at the passing scenery. Josh held a Nintendo DS game that kept him enthralled.

      Unable to stop himself, Ethan reached over to grasp her hand once more. Her eyes shot to his. He squeezed, a gentle pressure meant to offer reassurance. He felt the fragile bones, the slender, graceful fingers, and he appreciated her courage as she gave him a wobbly smile and squeezed back.

      Ethan returned his attention to the road. Checked the side mirror, the rearview mirror.

      Made a mental note about the car coming up behind them.

      And noticed it was coming fast.

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