Page 35 of Rescuing Sara

“Danni, you need to think about this,” Anne Hamilton warned. “Duncan Freidman can be ruthless if he thinks he’s being crossed, especially by what he likes to call a ‘subordinate.’ Don’t put yourself in a position where he’ll find an excuse to fire you.”

“I’m going to be very careful and wait until after Christmas to have Stanley publish it,” Danni assured her. “And of course, I want him and you to look at the article when I finish writing it.”

“Happy to do that,” Anne said, her eyes twinkling. “And how are you and Patrick getting along?”

“Really well,” Danni said, praying her blush didn’t start. “You were right about him being an incredible cook. Bit of a tidy freak, but hey, nothing wrong with that.”

“Is that all?” If Anne’s voice could have twinkled along with her eyes, it would have.”

“Of course.” Danni tried to sound nonchalant. “What else would there be?”

“Nothing,” Anne said but she was laughing as she signed off and having the last word. She knew Danni hated that.

But Danni was glad for having had something to do after Miller’s phone call about Frank Sullivan. His information about Sullivan was–had been–a killer for hire had left her stunned and confused.An assassin? For me?The fact the man who had tried twice to kill her was dead and now had a name, did not make Danni less uneasy. And let’s face it, still very afraid.

And while Frank Sullivan was dead, Danni was very much alive and still a possible target. As Miller had asked, who would want Danni dead and why.

Wondering if the news would cover anything like this, she headed back to the living room. The carpet here and in the hall was just as soft as the one in her room and she considered that if she had to stay here indefinitely, if she would ever willingly wear shoes again.

She found Patrick and Kristopher playing chess. It must be more of a friendly match because neither was using those little timing boxes she’d seen professional players use.

“Would you mind if I turned on the news?” she asked. “It’s been days since I’ve listened to any kind of broadcast.”

“Sure,” Kristopher called just as Patrick pronounced, “Checkmate.”

The men exchanged a high five slap. “Well and truly played, my friend.”

“You’re being nice,” Kristopher groaned. “To paraphrase my high school swimming coach, ‘You ‘waxed my board’ and I was really, really, really trying to beat you.”

“Well, there’s always tomorrow,” Patrick said. Looking at Danni, he called, “Did you finish your interview with Anne?”

“I did,” Danni answered, settling onto the sofa to pick up the remote and turning on the TV. “I recorded it so I can go back and write it up the way I want.”

“Do you want to talk to Elaine Prescott?” Patrick asked, coming to sit beside her. “She did say she would when you met her atExcelsior.”

“That would be great,” Danni said, turning up the volume as the words LOCAL HOSTESS DIED flashed across the screen. “Oh, dear.”

“–and tonight, our city mourns one of its finest hostesses,” the announcer said. “Mrs. Fredrick Everett died this afternoon after sustaining major injuries from a fall in her home. Mrs. Everett was also known for her charitable work at St. Nicholas–”

“Son of a bitch! He got her!” Patrick’s shout brought Kristopher to his feet from the table and Danni shrinking against the cushions in shock and surprise.

“Damn, damn, damn. Why didn’t I give Father Ryan Elaine’s phone number so she could talk to Christine Everett about her options?” Patrick raged. “She didn’t have to stay with that bastard. She had options. She could have left.”

“Patrick,” Danni said softly. “What is it?”

“Operation Phoenix is a damn good program,” he said as if he hadn’t heard her. “They take care of women who need to get out. They save women who need to get out. If I’d said something, maybe I could have saved her.”

He hurled himself to the front door and was gone. Her heart roaring in her ears, Danni looked at Kristopher who was slowly coming across the room.

“Holy shit,” he said. “What was that all about?”

“I’m not sure,” and Danni hated hearing the tremor in her voice. “Where would he go?”

Kristopher’s hands scrubbed the side of his narrow face. Unlike Patrick or Mac, he was clean-shaven, and it made him look younger than either of those men. But there was something about him that suggested Army experiences had added maturity that years alone cannot.

“Did you know,” he said at last. “That Patrick was a champion swimmer in high school?”

Danni tried to remember what little Patrick had told her. “I thought he played football.”

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