Page 109 of To Believe In You
As the list of candidates loaded on her screen, she grew cold and unsteady—dizzy almost.
Abandoning her laptop on the coffee table, she returned to the front windows and pushed back the curtains to allow the evening sun in. In mid-October, only the evergreens retained their color. The other trees seemed to scratch at the sky, like their bare limbs might’ve been responsible for shredding the thin cloud cover into the narrow rows that stretched overhead. At the horizon, the sun did its best to add cheer by slanting golden light across the grass, but the effect didn’t temper her unease.
She could call references, but most applicants would only list people who would speak highly of them. Background checks might help, but considering neither Shane nor her father had formal records, no database could prevent her from hiring a controlling or deceitful person who might be a bad influence with the kids.
So many unknowns. So many untrustworthy people, and her, a sitting duck.
She ran her fingers through her curls, and her hair sprang against her palm, frizzier than a moment before. And that was why she usually resisted touching her hair.
Beyond the dining room to her left, a counter marked off the kitchen. On the far wall, the microwave continued counting down. From this distance, she couldn’t read the shifting numbers, but the fact that it was still going meant she’d managed to work herself up in under six minutes. Maybe what she needed more than dinner was comfort.
Her Bible. She hadn’t spent nearly enough time in it recently.
The microwave still whirring, she padded back to her bedroom.
She’d left the blackout blinds closed when she’d departed on Saturday, and they continued to dim the room despite the daylight outside. She flipped the light switch, but one shadow didn’t disappear.
She froze.
A man stood at her bed, her suitcase open before him.
Shane.
A shock of hair fell across his forehead as he leveled his gaze on her. He offered no quick smile, no excuses or explanations.
Her breath shuddered.
How could he be here? She’d heard no alarms.
All clear.That was the code. If he’d broken in, someone would call in a minute or two and ask if she was okay. And she’d say it was all clear. Would her pounding adrenaline erase the words from memory?All clear.
Her muscles shook. What had he come for? If she backed away, would he take the item and leave? She retreated a step, and her shoulder hit the doorframe.
“You’d better stay where I can see you. In fact,”—he motioned with his index finger—“toss your phone here.”
He must’ve guessed—correctly—that she had the device in her back pocket.
Okay. She could surrender the phone. If she didn’t answer the calls from Gannon’s security or law enforcement, both would descend on the house shortly. Gannon’s team first, she suspected. The guard wouldn’t have made it all the way back to Lakeshore yet, and Shane was no match for him.
All clear.She rehearsed it again as she drew her phone from her pocket. As though only an observer, she saw her hand toss her cell onto the comforter, next to the suitcase. How odd that she could still control her body when she felt so disconnected, so locked away.All clear.
She wouldn’t be able to use the code.
She crossed her arms, but the posture felt like cowering. She tucked her hands in her pockets, but that left her too defenseless. She settled them behind her back, gripping the doorframe, calculating whether she could run, and where she might hide for the five or ten minutes it would take for the guard to return.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.
The snatch of Psalm 23 carried like a warm breeze into her mind. Best to wait this out in place. She’d already seen him. She could give him what he wanted and send him on his way. “What are you looking for?”
“Hands.” Shane lifted both of his, and she realized it was an order, not an answer.
She obeyed. He was paranoid if he thought she had a panic button behind her back, and that concerned her. Help should have already been on the way, but if he was unstable, what would happen when it arrived?
And what if … what if something had gone wrong and help wasn’t coming?
The possibility was too horrible to dwell on.
Gaze constantly flicking from her to her luggage, Shane resumed his search, tossing aside her jeans, her makeup bag, the pouch where she’d stowed her dirty clothes.
