Kate Hoffmann - Declan

Her first instinct was to call Declan and tell him what had happened. But after careful thought, she decided he would probably overreact and lock her up until he was sure she was safe. She’d just gained her freedom again, she wasn’t going to lose it due to her own paranoia.

“I’m just tired,” she said. “This is all just some post-traumatic panic attack.”

Rachel spent the next half hour with campus security detailing what had happened, then headed for home. Security reassured her that they would look into it and informed her that campus cameras may have picked up video proof of the perpetrator.

Satisfied and somewhat calmed, she headed for home. But when she got there, Rachel began to feel uneasy. She’d planned to do some gardening, planting a few flower pots for her porch. But instead, she locked herself inside the house.

As Dec had promised, a crew had showed up that morning to wire her house with alarms, but they wouldn’t complete the job for another day or two. She walked back and forth in the hallway, trying to work through her fears, telling herself that they were unfounded.

But the more she attempted to calm herself, the more upset she became. Rachel hurried to the kitchen and picked up the phone, ready to call Declan. She wouldn’t tell him what had happened, she’d just call to talk. His voice had a way of calming her. That would be enough.

She snatched her purse off the counter and searched through it for his business card. He’d written his cell phone number on the back, along with his address and his home phone number. She decided to try the cell phone first.

Punching in the number, she said a silent prayer that he’d pick up. Perhaps he’d be ready to head out for a run and she’d suggest he’d stop by for something to drink. Or maybe he was coming home from work and he’d drive by to say hello. Her mind conjured all kinds of excuses for him to come over and allay her fears.

It rang three times before his voice mail picked up. Rachel listened to the message, then hung up before leaving hers. With trembling hands, she set the phone down and stepped away, her need for Declan suddenly overwhelming her.

She’d known him for just a few days, and though they’d spent more time together than many couples who had dated for months, she still shouldn’t feel so dependent upon him. Rachel opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of wine, uncorked it and took a drink from the bottle.

“Don’t be such a baby,” she murmured to herself. “You’re just looking for any excuse to see him. If it wasn’t the vandalism on your car, you’d find another reason.”

She’d thought it was nearly impossible to resist Dec when she was with him. But now Rachel had found it was just as difficult to resist him when she wasn’t. Somehow, she suspected that until they were together twenty-four hours a day and enjoying a wild and wonderful sex life, she’d never be satisfied.

“DECLAN?”

Dec pressed the button on his phone to activate the intercom. “Yep.”

“Your brother, Ian, is here,” the receptionist said.

“Send him back, Celine,” Dec said, surprised by the impromptu visit. He gathered up the files he had spread over his desk and signed a few letters waiting in the file from his assistant, then walked to his office door and opened it.

His older brother smiled as he strode down the hall. He wasn’t wearing his uniform, dressed instead in a faded pair of jeans and a blue work shirt. “Hey there,” Ian said.

“Come on in. What are you doing in town?” Dec asked.

Ian flopped down into one of the chrome and leather chairs in front of Dec’s desk, heaving a deep sigh as he did. “Just hanging out,” he said. “I’m working this weekend, so I figured I’d take the day off.”

“So you came to Providence? Just to hang out? On a Friday night? Sounds like you’re here looking for women.”

“No, I had other stuff to do,” he said.

“Care to elaborate?” Dec asked.

“Stuff,” Ian insisted. “I had to drop a friend off at the airport. Hey, thanks again for that help with the forgery case. I haven’t talked to you since I saw you and Marcus for breakfast last weekend.”

“No problem,” Dec said.

“So what are you up to? What’s going on with that case Trevor Ross gave you?”

“Which one? Eden Ross or Dr. Devine?”

“Both,” Ian said.

“Eden Ross finally contacted her father and she’s all right. And my job with Dr. Devine is done. She had a stalker problem, but the Providence P.D. arrested the guy earlier this week. He confessed.”

Ian stretched his legs out in front of himself and clasped his hands behind his head. “Sounds like you haven’t had any problems staying celibate.”

“Have you?” Dec asked.

Ian shook his head. “No problems. I mean, I have to tell you, it’s tough. The more you try to keep from thinking about women, the more it seems to happen. But, when I’m feeling it, I just-relieve the pressure.”

“That’s important,” Dec said. “In fact, I just heard that it’s really medically necessary for a guy to do it every week or so. Did you know that?”

Ian gave him an odd look. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Masturbation,” Dec said.

“Well, don’t talk about that! I don’t wanna hear it. You’re supposed to be thinking pure thoughts if you have any hope in hell of making it through this.”

“Jaysus, Ian, sometimes you can be such a wanker.”

Ian stood. “Come on. I’ve got an hour to kill. I know a great pub just a few blocks from here. McSorley’s. I’ll buy you a pint. You know, we were supposed to get together every week and discuss this whole experience. I haven’t heard one word from either you or Marky. Seems we’re all pretty busy.”

Dec nodded. “Maybe we should make plans,” he offered, hoping that the idea would go nowhere.

“Yeah,” Ian said. “I’ll get back to you on that.”

They walked out of the office together, but when they got to the receptionist desk, Celine called out to Dec. “Declan, I have Rachel Merrill on line two. She says it’s important. Very important. She sounds a bit upset.”

“Who is Rachel Merrill?” Ian asked.

“A client. Let me just go back and get this call. I’ll meet you at McSorley’s in a few minutes.” Dec hurried back down the hall to his office and picked up the phone, punching in the button for line two.

“Rachel? Hi, it’s Dec. What’s up?”

“You have to help me.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“What’s wrong? Where are you?”

“I’m at home. Yesterday, someone keyed my car at the university. And then, today, I got home from lunch with Daniel Ellsworth to find my car covered in red paint.” She drew a shaky breath. “The car was in my garage at my house. They just walked into the garage and threw paint everywhere.” He heard a sob over the phone. “I’m scared, Dec. Should I call the police?”

“Are you in the house right now?”

“Yes.”

“Can you turn on the security system?”

“It’s not finished,” she said. “They’re waiting for some part that was missing.”

Dec cursed, then raked his hand through his hair. “All right. It’ll take me a few minutes to get there. Hang up and I’m going to call you back on my cell phone. I want you to stay on the line until I get to you.” He grabbed his phone out of his pocket, then noticed the two missed messages from Rachel. He’d turned the phone off in a meeting earlier that afternoon and had forgotten to turn it back on. How long had she been locked inside her house, terrified?

“All right. Hang up now. I’ll call you back just as soon as I get to my car,” he said.

Dec headed back out to the lobby. He stopped at Celine’s desk and asked her to call McSorley’s and make his apologies to Ian. Then he shoved the glass doors open and headed to the elevator. As he was driving out of the parking ramp, he punched in the number for Rachel’s home phone, then hit “send” the moment he got out on to the street.

She picked up the phone after the first ring. “Hi,” she said.

“Tell me exactly what happened,” he demanded.

“I told you. I just came home, opened the garage and saw my car. It was covered in clear red paint. It-it looks like blood. And there are words written on the back window.” She took a ragged breath. “Die Bitch. Did they let him out of jail? Why would Jerry do this? They must be watching him, aren’t they?”

“Rachel, Jerry is still in jail. He didn’t have enough money to post bail.”

“What does this mean?” she asked.

“I don’t think Jerry Abler is the guy.”

The other end of the line went silent. “Please hurry.”

“I’ll be there in just a few minutes,” Dec said. “I want you to go upstairs and pack a bag. Keep talking to me, all right?”

Fifteen minutes later, Dec pulled into the driveway of Rachel’s house and hopped out of the car. She met him at the back door, throwing her arms around his neck and holding on for dear life. “Come on, come on,” he murmured, running his fingers through her hair. “It’ll be all right. I’m here now. You’re safe.”

“I thought this was over,” she said, trembling. “You said it was over.”

“I thought it was. But we’ll figure this out, I promise.” He glanced around her kitchen. “Where’s your bag?”

She pointed to her suitcase, sitting in the hallway to the foyer. “He must be watching me,” she said. “He knows I’m back home. He’s been at the university and at the station. He’s everywhere now. He knows everything about me.”

Dec crossed the kitchen and grabbed the bag, then took her hand. “Baby, he probably has known for a while. He’s just getting bolder. You were out of town, he couldn’t see you and he got mad. He wants you to know that you can’t get away from him.” Dec kissed her forehead. There was no way to reassure her, at least not until he got her out of this house and someplace where she’d feel safe. “Come on, let’s go.”