Samantha Hunter - Unexpected Temptation

She wrapped her arms around her middle to repress a shiver. He was a very good-looking man, but how he looked at her had been far too personal for her comfort. The things he said to her were also inappropriate, at the very least.

Vanessa turned her thoughts to the practical. In spite of her entire life blowing up, she had classes to prepare and errands to run. She had to attend the new teacher and student orientation that evening. Only two hours from now. She needed a shower and new clothes. She hadn’t died in the explosion, and she wanted to go on with her life. That was a healthy attitude, right?

She started to shake all over again when she realized she couldn’t take a shower. She didn’t have a shower anymore. Her pretty new shower—that she had retiled herself last summer—was in scattered bits around her lawn. She had no home, no...anything.

She had nothing but the clothes on her back and what was inside her purse. And her car. She’d been taken down to police headquarters after the EMTs had checked her out, and she wondered if anything much was left of her car, as it had been in the driveway right next to her house.

The small cell spun a bit, and she lowered herself to the cot. Where would she go? She couldn’t afford a hotel, not for more than a night or two. How long would it take the insurance to help her with her house? Her car? Did they even cover a bombing? Would they pay for a place for her to stay?

She’d have to call her family and do a million other things that she couldn’t even think about right now. She just had to get out of here.

She was so overwhelmed. To onlookers, she could only imagine they thought she was catatonic. She took a deep breath, trying to focus.

“Hey, are you doing okay?” the detective asked as he approached the cell. “I’m sorry this took so long, but we had to make sure, the way you two were both accusing each other.”

He opened the cell, gestured for her to follow. Vanessa hesitated. Where would she go when she left?

She straightened her back and exited the cell. The detective was a nice, older man with kind eyes that were weathered by having seen too much over what she assumed was a long career. He put a light hand on her shoulder, and she nearly jumped out of her skin, turning on him and moving to grab his hand in a defensive reflex.

Her adopted dad had taught her how to defend herself so that she could feel safe wherever she went. She hadn’t practiced her self-defense in years, not formally, but her instincts still kicked in when she needed them. When she felt threatened.

Her difficult childhood—being moved from house to house, one state facility to another—had trained her to be hyperaware. It was how she survived, but it was also a habit that never quite wore off. Being touched by a stranger, even a well-meaning one, was unwelcome.

“I’m sorry,” she said, pulling her hand back. “I’m really on edge.”

“I can understand that. You’ve been through a shock today,” the detective said patiently. “Just to be clear on the details, you said you had a few small incidents recently? Some harassment? Did you report it?”

She’d already written all of this in her statement, but took a breath and responded.

“No. There were a few weird phone calls, that kind of thing. But nothing like this. I thought the calls were a crank.”

“Okay. Would you mind if we took a look at your phone records? We need your permission for that.”

“That’s fine.”

She had nothing to hide.

“Thank you. That should wrap things up. Do you have a place to stay tonight?”

“I’ll work something out.”

The set of the detective’s mouth was grim.

“Considering the circumstances, we should probably put you in protective custody for at least a few nights, until we can track down who planted the explosives. And why.”

“I can’t do that. I’ve lost...everything. But I still have a job I’d like to keep. My administrators are expecting me to run sessions for new teachers and students before classes begin in two weeks. I have to get my lessons in order, send letters to parents...there’s so much to do. I can’t hide away.”

“I think they’d understand, given the situation.”

“No, thanks. I’m sure this was some kind of mistake. No one is after me. They’d have no reason. I don’t want to be in protective custody. I don’t want to be in any...custody.” She gripped her suddenly shaking hands together. “Anyway, how do you know that Luke Berringer didn’t do it? How can you be sure?”

“I can assure you, he’s been cleared as a suspect,” the detective said. He didn’t volunteer more than that.

“Why was he hanging outside my house if he had nothing to do with it?”

“He simply mistook you for someone else. We checked out his credentials and references. He was head of a major software company, and now he’s a professional bodyguard with a notable firm up in Philly,” the detective explained. “He has no criminal record and was there to talk to you about another matter. He recognized what he saw through the window. He acted fast. It might seem funny to say so, but I think it was your lucky day, Miss Grant. If he hadn’t mistaken you, you’d be dead right now.”

Lucky. Right.

“Do you know why he was looking for me? Or the person he thought was me?”

“You’d have to ask him.”

Vanessa frowned, remembering how tall Berringer was, how strong. His hands on her arms had been tight, hard. When they had jumped away from the porch, knocked over by the power of the blast, he’d cushioned her fall with his body. He was solid all over. At the time, she’d been in shock, and thankful. Huddled close to him on the sidewalk, for a moment, his big body enclosed around her, she’d felt safe.

She hadn’t felt safe seconds later, when he’d looked at her through cold, green eyes that were filled with loathing.

Who would loathe her?

“All right. If you’re sure.”

She stood, her skin suddenly crawling with the need to be out of the building. Free.

Simply being in the police station made her anxious. She’d been brought in a few times as a kid when she’d run away from her foster homes. The police were always nice to her, but it didn’t help because she knew they would deliver her back where she didn’t want to go.

It had gotten worse after she was separated from her sister and brother. She hadn’t seen Julie since they were split up as young children. No one wanted to foster or adopt all three of them at once. Eventually, they had all been lost in the system.

Vanessa had never been able to track down her siblings, but she hadn’t given up, ever. She’d even asked the police for help a few times, getting hold of various records to try to find her brother and sister.

Being here was triggering all of the old fears and paranoia she’d had as a child about moving from one home to another. At least until she’d found her new family when she was twelve. If not for them, who knew how she might have ended up? The Grants had adopted her, offered her guidance, stability and a real home. What had happened to Julie and Max? Her heart broke when she thought of them.

“Would you at least let us know where you go? Do you have any family or friends, or will you go to a hotel?”

“There’s no one here,” she said. She wasn’t about to drag her family into this mess.

Her parents had moved from Florida to the north, retiring in Vermont where they were close to other family members. If they knew all of this, they’d be so worried; she had to call them first thing to let them know she was okay, in case they saw a report on the news.

“You have my cell number if you need to contact me. Thank you for everything,” she told the detective with a polite smile as she eyed the exit.