Page 23 of Nicole's Shelter

Popping the batteries into the lantern from the safety kit, he went around and opened Nicole’s door. “Ready?”

“If you are.”

“Sure.” The air was still, but cold. Or maybe it just felt colder since they weren’t running from anything right now.

His legs felt leaden and moved only because they knew the way. The heavy feeling didn’t fade once they were inside, though the air was warmer and the scent of lemon oil and wax offered a familiar comfort.

“I recommend up front. It will be warmer and have less of a draft.”

She murmured her agreement and walked up the short aisle.

He paused, noting the changes since his last visit. There was a fresh bouquet of flowers on the stone floor in front of the altar and someone had installed lighting that glowed softly from sconces on either side.

He cut across to a utility closet and used the lantern to find what he was looking for, hoping the supplies were still there. Finding the pillow and blanket tucked away, he pulled them out and handed both to Nicole.

“Bedding? In a chapel?” The incredulity was clear enough in her voice.

He cleared the lump out of his throat. “It’s better than the hard floor. The priest who maintains the chapel…” His blood felt like molasses slogging through his veins. This was a mistake, but he was too tired and it was too late to find an alternative now. “He, ah, started leaving them for me a few years back.”

“Thoughtful.”

“Yeah. Get comfortable and try to sleep. We’ll leave early, before the groundskeepers and caretakers come in.”

“You’re sure no one will find us?”

“We’re as safe as we can be tonight. I’ll check the doors and keep watch.” He stepped back before he touched her again. “Sleep well, Nicole.”

He didn’t think there was much chance they’d be discovered, much less disturbed here, but he refused to take chances. Outside, he gathered dry leaves and small stones to make sound traps at both doors.

With nothing left to do, he settled near the main door. Pushing his backpack under his head for a pillow, he removed the pistol from his back and tucked it by his hip.

Sleep didn’t come easy, but he didn’t expect it to. The energy was different with Nicole in the chapel, a place that had been his private retreat for so many years. It was here that he could face his guilt head on, knowing he’d taken his wife and their future for granted. His visits here were a penance of sorts. The only way he knew to honor a woman who’d given him nothing but love and grace only to be snatched out of his grasp when her car had spun out on an icy bridge one winter while he’d been on some mission he couldn’t even recall now.

Her parents had never forgiven him for letting her die alone in a sterile ICU. He’d taken the verbal beat down like the stoic, capable soldier he was, understanding the grief behind the terrible words.

He’d been shut out of the funeral services, told in no uncertain terms that his eleven short months as a husband didn’t give him any say in the matter. The photos of the accident scene were his only connection to the tragedy. The only way to comprehend the full scope of his loss.

As a spectator, he understood how right they’d been and vowed never to repeat such a dreadful mistake. His career, the inevitable sacrifices involved, wasn’t conducive to real relationships.

Whispering an apology into the cold air, he turned his thoughts to the case. Events up until the fire were pretty cut and dried. And he expected tomorrow’s meeting at the bank to confirm the general consensus that Cypress Security’s most recent client had duped them somehow.

It seemed that was as far as his thoughts would go without returning to Nicole. Nothing they knew tied her to the trouble at the pharmaceutical company. The clean background and the suits crawling over her car raised all kinds of red flags. He never really believed she was an identity thief, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to go head to head with WITSEC. Federal marshals were a tough, determined breed.

He pulled out his phone and sent an email to Eva, detailing the last couple of hours and asking her to see what she could find using what they already had on Nicole. The woman was a computer genius and without the boss’s connections would probably be doing time for hacking. He wished he’d thought to get a fingerprint while he was tailing Nicole. There was no way to do it now without completely destroying the paper thin trust she’d extended.

He listened, wondering if he could go pull a fingerprint from the car while she slept, but he heard the pew creak as she changed position again. Not worth the risk.

Rick slowed his own breath to a meditative rate and silently vowed that by this time tomorrow their accommodations would be much different.

* * *

The soft glow of the sconces over the altar made it hard to tell for sure, but as she came awake, Nicole thought dawn had to be close. The pew made for a hard bed, but there was something wonderfully soothing about safety.

She actually felt refreshed, more than a little shocking, all things considered. Her contentment evaporated at the sound of a distressed moan.

“Rick?” Had she actually slept through an attack or was it a problem that had woken her? She whispered his name again, too afraid to shout, but the only reply was another moan.

The sound came from the direction of the front door, where Rick said he’d be keeping watch. Maybe he was ill.

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