Kate Hoffmann - Declan

“No,” Rachel said. “I want to go to my house.”

Dec paused. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”

“I don’t care. I just want to lay down on my bed and close my eyes and pretend that my life is going to get back to normal soon. If you’re good at what you do, then you can protect me there. At least for a few hours.”

“All right,” Dec said. “But when I say it’s time to leave, then it’s time to leave.”

Rachel nodded, then smiled. “Thanks,” she murmured.

They walked out of the downtown office building and strolled the two blocks to where Dec had parked the car. They’d driven only a few minutes when Dec cursed softly. “I think we’re being followed,” he murmured.

Rachel twisted to look out the back window, but he stopped her. “Don’t look. Just pretend we don’t see her.”

“It’s her?” Rachel asked.

“I’m not sure. Let me try to lose the tail and we’ll see.” He made a couple of crazy turns, switching lanes at the last minute and watching in the rearview mirror. Rachel held her breath, her heart slamming in her chest. Every now and then, she could see the car in the side view mirror. But then, suddenly, she watched as it turned off behind them.

“Is she gone?”

Dec nodded. “For now.”

“It was probably just someone going in the same direction as we were. Now we’re both getting paranoid.”

“No,” Dec said. “That car was definitely following us. And it fits the description of the car that Jerry gave me.”

“Jerry gave you a description?”

“Of a car that he’d seen around the station,” Dec said. He shook his head. “I don’t like this, Rachel. I don’t think we should go to your house. It just doesn’t feel right.”

“Can we at least just stop there?” Rachel begged. “I need to pick up some more clothes and I forgot to grab that cookbook that I wanted.”

“We’ll go tonight,” he said. “After things quiet down. I promise.”

“All right,” she said.

He stared out the front window, watching the traffic and glancing in the rearview mirror every few seconds. Rachel hated when he was forced to be the professional. The Declan Quinn she loved disappeared-the humor, the wit, the boyish charm-and was replaced by a cool, calculating stranger.

“So, how do you think I’d look in that maid’s outfit?” she asked.

A grin twitched at his mouth and after a moment, he chuckled. “Pretty damn good,” he said.

RACHEL STOOD AT THE top of the stairs and called down to Dec. “Did you find the cookbook?”

“No,” he shouted. “What’s it called again?”

“ Comfort Farm Cookbook ,” she said. “It has a picture of an apple pie on the front cover.” She walked back into her bedroom and resumed searching her closet. She’d come to the conclusion that her wardrobe was in sad need of an update. All her clothes were entirely too conservative, not sexy. And she wanted to dress sexy now that she’d met Dec. He appreciated it and she liked his compliments.

“You are such a girl,” Rachel muttered to herself.

She grabbed a flowered skirt, then turned to walk to the dresser. But she froze when she saw a woman standing in the middle of her bedroom. Slowly, the woman aimed a gun at her and Rachel felt the blood suddenly run cold in her body.

They stared at each other for a long time without speaking. And then, Rachel realized she knew the woman. “Marcy?”

“I didn’t think you’d remember,” Marcy said. “When Daniel introduced us at the Christmas party, you barely looked at me. I knew right away.”

“Marcy, what are you doing?”

“What I should have done weeks ago, only I was too afraid. I’m not afraid anymore.”

“How did you get in?” Rachel asked.

“The key. You had an extra in your desk at the university. I took it.”

“Rachel!” Dec’s voice echoed up the stairs. “I found it. Now come on, let’s go. It’s getting dark.”

Marcy slowly crossed the room and held the gun up to Rachel’s head. “Answer him,” she said. “Answer, or I’ll shoot.”

“All right.” Rachel called, “I’ll be down in a minute. I’m just looking for that outfit that we talked about in the car.” Rachel said a silent prayer that Dec’s curiosity would get the better of him. She couldn’t deal with this alone. He would know what to do.

“Sit down,” Marcy said. “On the end of the bed.”

Rachel did as she was told and Marcy sat down behind her. Closing her eyes, Rachel tried to gather her courage. If she could get Marcy talking, maybe she could convince her to put the gun down.

“How did you know about the radio station?” Rachel asked.

“You told my husband and he tells me everything about you. He’s concerned about this stalker you have and of course, I pretend I’m concerned, too. But I’m really not. I’m just listening and smiling and waiting for my chance.”

Marcy’s voice trembled and Rachel imagined her finger twitching on the trigger of the handgun. “You don’t want to do this, Marcy,” she said. “There’s no reason.”

“I want you out of our lives,” the woman shouted, anger turning her voice strident. “Ever since you came around, things have been different.”

“That’s not true,” Rachel said.

A moment later, Dec appeared in the doorway. Rachel looked at him, sending him a silent plea. “Declan Quinn, this is Marcy Ellsworth, Daniel’s wife. She just stopped by for a visit.”

Marcy quickly got to her feet and stood beside Rachel, the barrel of the gun now pressed against Rachel’s temple. Dec held out his hand and slowly moved forward. Though he was there to protect her, she couldn’t bear the thought of him being hurt because of a situation she had caused. “Don’t, Dec,” she said, stopping him in his tracks. “It’ll be all right.”

He glanced at Marcy, then back at Rachel, sending her a warning glare. But Rachel simply smiled at him. “Marcy and I are friends,” she said. “We’ll find a way to work this out, won’t we, Marcy?”

“The only way to work it out is to get you out of my life for good,” Marcy snapped.

“How long have you felt this way?” Rachel asked. If she just kept her talking, everything would work out. That’s what she had to keep telling herself or Rachel was sure she’d dissolve into hysterics.

“Forever.”

“I know, it probably seems like forever to you. But it hasn’t been. There was a time when things were good, wasn’t there? A time when you were happy? When you and Daniel were happy?”

Marcy nodded, her lips pressed into a tight line.

“Can you remember that time now?” Rachel asked. “Because, I know you can go back there. Close your eyes and just picture it. Tell me what you see.”

To Rachel’s surprise, Marcy did close her eyes. The moment she did, Dec glanced over at Rachel, ready to make a move to disarm her. But Rachel slowly shook her head. “Tell me what you see,” she said.

“I-I see us. We’re sitting in our backyard and we’re having a glass of wine. Daniel has just come home. And we have our baby girl there. She’s getting so big. She walks now and she’s just starting to talk. And we’re watching her toddle around and laugh. And we’re so happy. Everything is perfect.”

“What’s your baby girl’s name?” Rachel asked.

“We named her Emily. Emily Elizabeth Ellsworth. Daniel said it would make a silly monogram, but when she came out, she just looked like an Emily Elizabeth, all tiny and sweet, like a little doll.”

“What happened to her, Marcy? Was she too small?”

Marcy’s eyes flew open and she waved the gun at Rachel. “Don’t you talk about her. We never talk about her. That’s why we moved here, because I couldn’t stop talking about her in our old house.”