rubbed his hands on the seat of his jeans, shaking his head. “It’s late, Annie. The streets in this part of town are dangerous—as you’ve discovered.”
She shivered, remembering the instant terror when she’d been grabbed. Her arm still throbbed from her attacker’s viselike grip. Defeat settled in her belly like a rock, followed closely by a surge of desperation. How would she explain the lost package to Hardin? Was she destined to be a victim of men’s violence for the rest of her life?
Not a victim, Annie. You’re a survivor. Stay positive. Attitude is everything. The mantras and platitudes Ginny, her counselor from the women’s center, preached echoed in her brain. But on days like today, keeping a rosy outlook took more energy than she had. She’d dealt with grumpy customers, poor tippers and a demanding boss. She’d been on her feet since noon, spilled coffee on a customer who then threatened to sue and had had her life endangered thanks to a boss who would likely fire her for losing his package.
Annie shoved aside the sense of impending disaster and squared her shoulders as she faced Jonah. “I can’t stop you from following me, but I prefer to get home by my own means.”
Jonah ducked his head, his mouth twisted in a frown of disagreement. “Fine. I won’t argue with you.” He shook his head and huffed his frustration. “But if you change your mind, give a shout. I’ll be just a block or so behind you.”
The cocky lift of his eyebrow dared her to try to stop him from tailing her. He stepped back to let her pass, and she marched toward the street, squeezing her purse to her chest and giving the dark downtown avenue a wary scrutiny.
A queasy jitter roiled in her gut, knowing she’d disappointed him, upset him. Her innate need to please, an instinct Walt had exploited and pushed to an unhealthy extreme, caused her a moment’s hesitation. She almost balked, almost relented.
When she’d risked her life to free herself from Walt, she’d vowed to never depend on a man for anything ever again. Rebuilding her life, her confidence, her inner strength was a daily struggle. Old habits and emotions, ingrained in her during six turbulent years of marriage, died hard. But she’d sworn to shed the debilitating attitudes and knee-jerk reactions from her marriage in favor of strength and self-empowerment.
One day at a time.
She could take care of herself and her children, no matter what. She hated that she needed the job Hardin gave her so desperately, but without a college degree, her employment options were limited.
She glanced behind her a time or two as she made her way home, and each time, Jonah gave a nod as if to say, “Yep. I’m still here.”
She sensed Jonah’s stare like a weight on her back as she crossed the parking lot and climbed the outside iron stairs to her second-floor apartment. On the grillwork landing, she lifted her gaze and found him in the lawn below. She flicked her hand, shooing him away.
Crossing his arms over his broad chest, he nodded to her door.
Sighing, she unlocked the door and pushed it open an inch. Again she flicked her fingers, sending him away. His lopsided grin flashed white under the bluish light of the security lamp, and he waved. Only when she turned to go inside did he finally amble off in the direction they’d come.
She parted the sheers on the kitchen window to make sure he really left, didn’t loiter in the parking lot or try to come up the stairs to her door. His loose-limbed stride mirrored the relaxed confidence she’d come to know when she waited on him at the diner. He poked his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and for an instant, she admired the way his clothes fit his taut, muscular body.
“Miss Annie?”
The young voice jarred her from the intimate perusal of Jonah’s physique, a side trip she had no business making. Clapping a hand over her scampering heartbeat, she faced her babysitter. “Rani, I … Sorry I’m late. My boss had me run an errand after I got off.”
“It’s okay. I was just watching TV. I—” Rani paused, wrinkling her brow. “Gosh, what happened to your lip?”
Annie touched her swollen mouth. She’d almost forgotten about the blow the mugger had landed, splitting her lip. “Nothing really. I’ll be fine. Just a little accident,” she lied out of habit.
She’d gotten good at making up explanations for the injuries Walt had inflicted.
She was a klutz. The baby had bumped her nose with his head. She’d tripped over a toy in the dark. Her babysitter frowned but said nothing else about Annie’s injury.
“Come on.” Annie hitched her head toward the back of the apartment. “Let’s get you your check.” She paused at the door to the kids’ bedroom and peeked in.
Ben slept soundly in his crib with his diapered butt poking in the air, and curled in her bed, Haley clutched her stuffed cat, Tom, under one arm.
A tightness squeezed Annie’s chest as love filled her heart to bursting. Quietly, she stepped into the room and adjusted Ben’s blanket to cover his arms, then crouched to stroke Haley’s long, dark hair. Her daughter stirred, and Annie held her breath, hoping she hadn’t woken Haley with her motherly doting. She tiptoed back out the door and turned toward her bedroom where she kept her checkbook.
After scribbling out Rani’s weekly payment, she walked the teenager to the door.
“You still need me at eleven thirty tomorrow morning?”
Rani Ogitani had graduated from high school the previous May and started babysitting for Annie the following summer. Now, ten months later, Rani claimed to be looking for a job, thinking about college, weighing her options, but seemed content watching Annie’s children and living with her mother for the time being.
“Yeah. Eleven thirty. The kids give you any trouble today? I know Ben can be a handful.”
Rani yawned. “They were okay. Mom says Ben’s crankiness is just his age. Typical terrible twos.”
Annie grinned. “This, too, shall pass.”
“Hmm?”
“Something my grandmother used to say. Never mind.” She held the door open for Rani and stood on the landing to watch as the teenager crossed the parking lot to her mother’s first-floor apartment.
The March evening still held a nip of the winter just past, and goose bumps rose on Annie’s arms. Before stepping back inside, she scanned the yard, the parking area, the street. Jonah was gone. Or at least she couldn’t see him anywhere, if he was hiding, watching.
She shook her head. That was paranoia talking. Walt’s legacy.
Or was it? Jonah had followed her when she left to make her delivery for Mr. Hardin. Was he really just being thoughtful and protective? Why had he asked her not to call the cops? Was he her guardian angel—or was Jonah hiding a dangerous secret?
Chapter 3
The next day, Jonah took his place at the lunch counter at Pop’s Diner as he had nearly every day for the past several months. With luck, he’d only have to subject himself to the diner’s menu another couple of weeks. As he followed through with the bet he’d placed with Farrout the night before, he hoped he now had an inside track to learn more about how the illegal gambling operation worked—how gamblers paid their debts, where the money went, who was involved at higher levels.
Follow the money.
He thought about the package Annie had been given to deliver last night, and tension spiraled through him. He’d bet anything Hardin’s package had to do with the gambling money he was laundering through the diner. Whoever had been on the other end of that delivery was a key player in this operation.
Jonah gritted his teeth. He’d been so close to filling in another piece of the puzzle in this investigation before that bastard had jumped Annie and made off with the package.
It almost seemed as if the