Кей Хупер - Hiding in the Shadows

"I left a message, Mr. Macgregor. Which Faith clearly never received."

Faith looked up at Kane. He hadn't mentioned a message for her, and she had to wonder why.

"It's been a busy morning," was Kane's only reply.

"I imagine so," Dr. Burnett said. "It's been all over the news about that reward you offered. You've got the whole city stirred up. That's what all this is really about, isn't it, Mr. Macgregor? All you're thinking about is finding the people who killed your fiancée, isn't that true? Nothing else matters to you. And you'll drag Faith along with you, wherever the search takes you, whatever the danger..."

It was suddenly too much, and Faith, feeling smothered, cut him off.

"Enough. Doctor, nobody dragged me into this situation — except the people who tried to destroy my life."

"Faith..."

"No. No more. I realize I'm your pet project. I also realize that I appear somewhat frail at the moment. But you're making a very big mistake if you imagine I'm nothing more than a doll with no mind of my own. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

She shifted her gaze to Kane and lifted her chin. "It's time I started doing that."

She brushed past them both and walked toward the elevators, leaving them staring after her.

Kane caught up with her at the elevators, but since the bodyguard joined them, he didn't say anything to her.

As for Faith, she realized with some surprise that she was angry — and that it felt good. She was angry at Dr. Burnett for seeing her always as walking wounded in need of his professional advice and concern, angry at Kane for leaping to her defense as if he also believed her in need of his protection, and angry at herself most of all for having apathetically accepted the attitudes from both men.

Maybe her legs were a bit shaky these days, maybe her memory was as blank as a mime's face, and maybe she was an emotional mess. But she was also a grown woman who'd had the guts to leave an abusive husband, travel three thousand miles across the country alone, and start her life over again.

It was a realization to hold on to.

Their car and driver were waiting for them, and even though the bodyguard got into the front, leaving Faith and Kane alone in the backseat, there was no partition to give them any privacy.

So Faith kept her voice low and even indifferent when she asked, "When do you have to meet the inspector?"

"Three o'clock."

She felt him looking at her but didn't turn her head to meet his gaze.

He drew an audible breath. "Faith, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Burnett's message when I called the service this morning."

"All right. You're sorry."

"You don't believe me?"

"Of course I believe you. Why wouldn't I?"

"Faith..."

"If we have time, would you mind going by my apartment today or tomorrow? I want to get my watch." She looked down at her bare wrist. "I didn't even realize I wasn't wearing it until this morning. I suppose I forgot to get it the other day when I packed up my things."

"Of course we'll have time."

"Thank you." Her tone was polite.

Kane glanced at the two men in the front seat and resisted an urge to swear. For this kind of security and safety, privacy had to be sacrificed — and he didn't like it. He also didn't like feeling so raw and touchy; he knew all too well that he had overreacted with Burnett, and in so doing had upset Faith.

But the truth was that he was raw, his emotions too close to the surface and all too easily touched.

Most of all, he was angry. Angry at Burnett for his possessive attitude toward Faith. Angry at Faith for getting under his skin. Angry at Dinah for getting herself killed.

"Do you want me to apologize for what I said to Burnett, is that it?" he demanded.

Faith blinked at the anger in his voice, but otherwise remained unruffled. "If you feel you were wrong, say so. But don't do it just to placate me."

For a dizzy moment he wondered if she had any idea how much like Dinah she'd sounded. Dinah, who had hated false repentance and always refused to accept a careless I'm sorry, even to pour oil on troubled waters. She had always preferred an honest fight to fake peace, no matter what it cost her.

Slowly, he said, "I don't feel I was wrong, except maybe in presuming that you needed me to interfere. I will apologize for that."

"Thank you. I can fight my own battles, you know."

"You didn't seem to want to fight Burnett."

"Dr. Burnett," she said with great deliberation, "helped me get back on my feet after I came out of the coma. I'll always be grateful to him for that."

"It was his job, Faith."

"I'm aware of that."

"Is he?"

Faith was silent for a moment, then said, "I'm his patient, nothing more. Not that it's any of your business. "

Kane knew she was right. It was none of his business. Absolutely none of his business.

Casting about for something casual to say, he asked, "Did you bring your apartment keys with you? if so, we can drop by on our way out to the construction site."

"I think so." She opened her shoulder bag and checked inside. He heard the clink of keys and then saw her frown.

"What?"

She drew out a folded piece of paper and opened it slowly. Her face went blank as she read whatever was written there, and he saw her fingers tremble.

"Faith?"

She looked at him, and for an instant he thought she was going to crumple the paper or tear it to pieces.

Then she held it out to him.

It was half a sheet torn carelessly from a notebook, and the single handwritten sentence on it sprawled across the page as if the author had been in a hurry.

"Faith, look in my apartment inside the book."

"It isn't my writing," Faith said.

The words blurred before Kane's eyes. "No. It's Dinah's."

She didn't want to go into Dinah's apartment. Beside her, Kane was still and silent, and she was vividly conscious of his anger and disbelief.

He didn't believe she had never seen the note before or that it had not been in her bag a few days before. Nor did he believe she hadn't written it herself, somehow duplicating Dinah's handwriting well enough to fool his incredulous eyes.

He didn't believe, because any other explanation chipped away at his sanity. And he was angry with her because ... what? Because he thought she was playing with his emotions, mocking his grief?

Faith didn't know what she believed. All she knew was that the note had not been in her bag before today and that she had not written it herself in some inexplicable attempt to deceive Kane. She knew Dinah hadn't written it, because Dinah was dead.

And she knew one last thing, one final stark fact she was absolutely certain of... Wherever the note had come from, the message it contained was from Dinah.

She knew that.

Kane said, "If it takes longer than ... If it looks like I'll be late in meeting the inspector, I'll call and have him wait." He sounded calm, but she thought it was a precarious calm.

He's angry at everybody because she's gone. And now this has to happen. And I make a handy target for his anger. She didn't blame him for what he felt, but there was an anger in Faith as well, and she didn't know how much longer she could handle it in silence.

When they reached Dinah's apartment building, the driver went around the block once so they could make certain no media lurked in the area. But since no crime had been committed there, since her apartment was empty and her neighbors had long since stopped responding to questions from the press, the journalists who had camped out there in the days just after Dinah's disappearance had finally gone away.

Even so, the bodyguard insisted on going with them up to the third floor, insisted on checking the apartment door carefully with a little electronic gadget he carried, and, after Kane had disarmed the security system, insisted he go in first to make certain there was no danger. It was, after all, what Kane was paying him for.