might even have some clothes that would fit her and perhaps change her image enough that she’d be less easily spotted by whoever was menacing her.
His plans were almost fully formed by the time Isaac returned to the living room. “All clear,” he said. “I’m satisfied that there’s no danger in this apartment right now. You can go pack but don’t take too long. The sooner we get out of here, the better.”
“We? Where did that come from?”
“I’m taking you home with me—unless you have a better idea.”
“I can’t go with you. Not just like that.”
“Why not?”
“Because you don’t really know me.”
Isaac smiled wryly. “If I did, should I be afraid of you?”
“Of course not, but...”
“Then it’s settled. I’ll go put Abby in the SUV, tell the local police what we’re doing and be back in a flash. I’ll expect you to be ready to leave by then.”
“You’re ordering me to go with you?”
His smile widened. “No. I’m offering a lifeline to a drowning citizen. You can always swim off into shark-infested waters by yourself if you choose.”
“I see your point. All right,” Daniella said, “but we have to take Puddy. I’m not abandoning him.”
“Do you have a carrier?”
“Yes.”
“Then put him in it and I’ll take him, too.”
She began to call, “Puddy? Here kitty, kitty.” There was no response. Not even a faint meow.
The stricken look on her face touched Isaac. “I didn’t see him when I searched. Maybe he hid when he spotted Abby. I’ll take her outside. Keep calling to him while you’re packing. Just try not to sound overly anxious. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Isaac waited until he heard the door lock click into place before heading down the hall. Getting Daniella to agree to leave her apartment had not been too difficult. Getting her to actually go if she couldn’t locate her missing cat might prove far more perplexing. For all they knew, whoever had placed the bomb by the car might have also let the cat out. Anything was possible.
At present, his fondest hope was that the frightened feline would show up.
* * *
Daniella was frantic. She faced Isaac, eyes wide, short of breath. “I can’t find him. He’s not here!”
“Was the door locked when you got home?”
“Of course it was.” She frowned. “At least I think so. I was so tired I really didn’t pay much attention.”
“You weren’t scared at that point. So what set you off before I got here?”
Although she hated to answer, she felt she owed him a little more information. “I got a threatening phone call,” she said, continuing to search for Puddy while she talked.
Isaac followed her. “Maybe it was a prank.”
She shook her head so dramatically her hair brushed against each cheek in turn. “No way. This was for real.”
“You know who called?”
“Yes. What I can’t figure out is how he managed to get my number so fast. I was only on the news a few hours ago.” She explained about seeing herself on TV as part of the coverage about the bombing.
“Maybe he saw you and hacked into the hospital’s personnel files.”
“I suppose that’s possible.”
Studying the officer, she could tell he was thinking as various expressions flashed across his face.
“All right,” Isaac finally said. “Here’s what I know. There is no record of you before you entered college. No high school or grammar school transcripts. Nothing. That means you’re either a criminal on the run or a witness who was given a new identity. My guess would be the witness.”
Without giving it much conscious thought, she nodded and lowered her gaze, unwilling to meet his directly.
“So why are you acting guilty?”
“Because my family is involved in the whole mess.”
“Criminally?”
“Not my mother. She was an innocent victim. My father murdered her.”
She heard him draw a quick breath. “And you saw it happen?”
Another nod. She blinked back unshed tears as she raised her face to look at him, hoping to see neither condemnation nor pity. His expression was more quizzical than anything, so she explained further.
“My dad was doing business with some very bad people, drug dealers and hardened criminals. Mom wanted to leave him, we both did, but I was in my teens and I kept hesitating, hoping there was some spark of good left in him.”
“That’s understandable. He was your father and you were still a kid. You didn’t want him to be evil.”
“Exactly.” She sniffled and continued while peering behind the sofa for the cat. “It was a sunny Sunday afternoon when everything came to a head. Mom told him we were both going to leave for keeps. She started to get into her car. I should have been with her but Dad sent me back into the house to bring him something. I never dreamed he’d already...”
“He saved your life?”
“Yes. But he took hers. The authorities proved he’d rigged an explosive device under her car. I wasn’t allowed in court until it was my turn to testify so I don’t know whether it was set to go off when she got behind the wheel or if he set it off remotely.”
“You testified against him,” Isaac said. It was not a question.
Daniella nodded slowly, purposely. “Yes. I had to. A man like that didn’t deserve to walk the streets.”
“And now you wonder if he might have been released?”
She shrugged. “I can’t believe that’s possible. Not yet, anyway. I’d rather think he hired someone to terrorize me in his place—except for the fact I recognized his voice on the phone.”
“Let’s start by finding out for sure where he is. Keep looking for the cat. I’ll be right here,” he told her, pulling his cell from his pocket and pushing a preprogrammed number. “Give me his full name.”
She barely managed to whisper it.
As she worked her way back into the bedroom to search the closet once more, she heard Isaac say, “I need to check on a convict. Terence R. Fagan. If he’s been released we need to locate him. Fast.”
Daniella paused for a deep, telling sigh. The urge to pray that God would intervene and save her by somehow eliminating her father was strong. And wrong, she knew, yet the disturbing thoughts continued to whirl through her mind. She should be praying for the faith and strength to forgive him, to show him the kind of pure love Jesus demonstrated.
Truth was, she was a long way from that degree of forgiveness and there was no way she’d be able to pray and ask such a thing, not even if her father came to her on his knees and begged.
Surely God understood, she concluded, realizing almost immediately that she was violating one of the important yet simple instructions in the Lord’s Prayer.
To be forgiven she must first forgive.
Clenching her jaw and her fists, Daniella refused. There was no way she was ever going to get over what that terrible man had done.
Her broken, battered heart wouldn’t allow it.
*