She heard someone breathing. She spoke louder, trying to force a calm control to her voice. “Hello…is anyone there?”
“Tara…it’s Danny.”
The shock left her momentarily speechless. Danny Vincent. John Vincent’s thirty-four-year-old nephew – and her ex-fiancé.
An odd combination of irritation and relief passed through her. It wasn’t her anonymous caller, but it was the last person she wanted to hear from. Her displeasure forced its way into her voice. “How did you get my unlisted phone number?”
“Well, I have to admit that it took a little doing. First I had to find out where you had moved.”
Her anxiety level increased. “Have you been following me and making anonymous phone calls?”
“Following you? Anonymous phone calls? What are you talking about? I only discovered where you were living a few days ago and just got your phone number yesterday.”
Her exasperation traveled the phone line as she spoke. “What do you want, Danny?”
“I thought we might have dinner. Are you free tomorrow night?”
“No. I’m not free tomorrow night or any other night. It’s over between us. I thought that should have been obvious when I broke off our engagement.”
“Just a friendly little dinner. Surely that couldn’t hurt anything.”
A new wariness rose inside her. Why now? Why after all this time should he suddenly have the urge to track her down and want to have dinner? Especially when her testimony at his uncle’s trial helped get him convicted.
“No…no dinner, friendly or otherwise. Please don’t call me again.” She hung up without waiting for a response. Even though she had broken off the engagement three years ago, she and Danny had still come in contact periodically due to the fact that they both worked for his uncle, although Danny wasn’t in the office very often. But she hadn’t seen or talked to him since the day she quit her job at Green Valley Construction and agreed to testify against John Vincent.
A sick feeling welled inside her, one laced with trepidation. Could Danny possibly be the person responsible for harassing her? An attempt to get back at her for testifying against his uncle? Perhaps combined with some residual anger over her having broken their engagement? A show of anger certainly wasn’t anything unusual for Danny Vincent. Nor was there anything new about his desire to control everything – including her. It had been bad enough to have to put up with her mother’s manipulations for so many years, but when Danny started doing the same type of thing to her she knew she needed to get out of the relationship.
She had refused to put up with his outbursts when she objected to him making decisions for her. The final straw had been when he canceled hotel and flight reservations she had made for her vacation without even consulting her. She had been angry with him and he had responded by actually threatening her. Five minutes later their relationship was finished and she had told him she wanted nothing to do with him again.
Then her mother had started in with her incessant nagging and criticism, this time about how Tara should have forgiven Danny. After all, one day he would probably own Green Valley Construction and Tara would have a comfortable life. That had been a pivotal downturning point in her rapidly declining relationship with her mother and the impetus for her vow never to allow anyone to have any control over her life again.
So, what had prompted Danny to call her? And why now after so much time had passed? The headache throbbed at her temples. Her hand trembled as she turned on the water and reached for a glass. She took two aspirin, then leaned back against the counter and closed her eyes.
Every day of late had become a new experience in the bizarre and stressful. Her personal life had been a tangled mess ever since the day she had agreed to testify at John Vincent’s trial. She had become leery of strangers and fearful about going out alone at night. She had started to feel as if she was a prisoner in her own home.
All six of the primary witnesses against John Vincent had been threatened and were put under the protection of the U.S. Marshals Service for the duration of the trial. A couple of weeks ago she had thought about contacting the marshals to ask for protection again, but decided against it. What could she say to them? She didn’t have any proof, only an unsubstantiated feeling that something was very wrong. Were her concerns real or only her imagination? It was a frightening place to be, caught in the middle between her unconfirmed fears on one side and what might be real danger on the other.
She took a deep breath, held it for several seconds, then slowly exhaled in an attempt to bring a calm to her inner turmoil. She had survived the threats before the trial and taken charge of her life. She certainly wasn’t going to let this get the better of her. Then the phone rang again. Apprehension surged through her body followed by a sinking feeling. Her throat started to close off. She took another swallow of water and quickly switched on the answering machine. Anonymous caller or Danny Vincent – either way she didn’t want to answer it.
She nervously paced back and forth between the living room and kitchen. She needed a security system for the house…she needed a large watchdog…she needed a gun. She stopped pacing. A gun? Had she totally lost her mind? A gun meant violence and said that someone could be hurt…or worse yet, killed. That was definitely not what she needed and certainly the last thing she wanted in her house or in her life.
She gathered her determination. What she really needed was to get her anxieties under control and stop making more out of the circumstances than they deserved. She had let her imagination run away with her common sense. She took a calming breath in an attempt to settle the jittery sensation churning inside her, then opened the refrigerator and took out some lettuce and a tomato to make a salad.
After eating dinner, she watched television for a bit then took a book to bed and read for a while until she became drowsy. But sleep eluded her. Troubled thoughts kept taking her to the car that had been parked across the street and the man who seemed to be watching her house. An uneasiness burrowed its way into her consciousness. The more she tried to ignore it, the stronger it pushed at her. Had he returned? Was he watching her house again?
The uncertainty forced her out of bed. She made her way through the darkened house and peeked out the living-room window. Everything looked normal, yet her concern refused to leave. She finally managed a few hours of troubled sleep.
BRAD SPENT a restless night. He had tossed and turned, his mind refusing to relinquish the onslaught of thoughts, foremost of which was what to do about Tara Ford. It continued to plague him as he drove to work. He had a busy morning, lots of details to take care of that had nothing to do with the immediacy of his Tara Ford problem. But even though he stayed physically busy, his thoughts were never very far from her and the mental image that had burned into his mind.
At lunchtime he drove to Tara’s place of employment, parked his car, then continued on foot. There were several places to have lunch within a two-block area of her office and he intended to check them all, hoping she hadn’t elected to have lunch at her desk. The third place he tried proved successful. He peered in the window of the deli and spotted her seated at a table with an attractive blond woman in her early thirties. He took in Tara’s sleek form and beautiful face.
His throat tightened and his mouth went dry, causing him to bristle with irritation. It had been a long time since he had come up against this type of involuntary physical reaction to any woman. He didn’t seem to have any control over it, something inexcusable for a man whose very life depended on maintaining control not only of himself, but everything that went on around him.
He collected his composure and entered the deli. He ordered a sandwich, then made his way across the room, smiling politely when she looked up at him. He selected a booth far enough away that he wasn’t right next to her but close enough to hear her conversation.
While eating his lunch he eavesdropped on the two women, their conversation telling him that they worked together. They discussed a work situation that had occurred at the office that morning, talked about a movie they had seen and discussed the latest best-selling book. The choice of topics was ordinary. The women appeared to be nothing