Part 86 (1/2)

Jacob smiled as his eyes traced over the curve of her jaw, locking on her eyes before following the path of her shoulders down her arms.

Her heart sped up when she realized he was probably picturing the curves of her body under the baggy blouse. The more intense the feeling grew, the heavier her wedding band became. Jacob was an exceptionally attractive man, and he admired her as if she was an attractive woman.

”I suppose I should get going. It's a school night, after all.”

Concealing her disappointment was a challenge. ”Oh,” she said.

What are you doing? You just met.

He drank the remaining tea, and set the cup on the table. ”I'll see you tomorrow?”

Don't go yet!

Why did she want him to stay? She looked around the drab kitchen and wondered what the h.e.l.l she was doing by inviting him into her house like this. He was already moving.

She nodded as he stood up. Jennifer stumbled over her feet to get to the door and opened it for him. She opened it for him and when he began to step out her arm shot out and she grabbed his wrist. He turned, his eyebrows climbing in surprise.

”I'm sorry I blew you off at lunch. I didn't mean to be rude, I-”

”It wasn't rude. You had a lot on your mind.”

Yes, like you. ”It was rude. I'd like to make up for it. I'd like to see you.”

”I wasn't planning to take a sick day.” He smirked.

You know what I mean.

”I mean... see you.” Jennifer mentally d.a.m.ned her thick tongue. Couldn't an English teacher be more eloquent? ”Socially, I mean.”

He turned back to face her stepped back up onto the threshold. He was so d.a.m.ned tall, she had to look up to meet his gaze. She still held his wrist. When she let go, her hand flopped to her side and she had no idea what to do with it.

She stared at his lips while licking her own. He looked away.

”We'll make plans,” he said. ”See you tomorrow.”

”Yes,” she said.

He walked down to the car. The rain fizzled out, and the sun peeked from behind the retreating clouds. Jacob waved before sliding into the driver's seat. The car rumbled to life and he pulled away, leaving her staring after him.

What did you just do? What on Earth possessed her to ask him out? She twisted her ring on her finger and stared out the window. She glanced over and saw the honeymoon picture staring back at her. Her ring dug into her skin.

”I like him” she said, to no one in particular.

She moved away so she couldn't see the picture, or it couldn't see her. Her hands shook.

You're being stupid. He does one nice thing for you, and you're ready to fall into his arms.

It wasn't one nice thing. He all but risked his life for her. No one ever tried to defend her from Elliot. No one but Franklin, and Franklin was gone.

Isn't that a funny coincidence? He just happens to show up at the right time. He knew my name. He's probably some kind of stalker. Then there's those scars, and his hand. Accident? What kind of accident? Where did he learn to fight like that?

”Shut up,” she muttered.

After a shower, sleep almost took her a few times, but she chased it away. Jennifer sat upright on the beach towel she spread on the bed for a while and stared at the ceiling, before she put an old oversized Sentinels jersey that hung halfway to her knees, and a pair of thick padded socks with little grippers on the bottom.

Jennifer piled a stack of pillows behind her and rested her tablet on her folded legs. She opened the web browser app to find a cheap refurbished laptop to replace the one Elliot destroyed. She could probably afford a new one, if she wanted. She sighed. She could definitely afford a new one.

You don't need a new computer. A used one will work just fine.

Habit opened the bridge memorial web site instead. A picture of the monument built by the old bridge footing filled the screen with its list of names. Dread churned through her as she scanned the list for the thousandth time.

Her last name stood out among the others when she reached the K section. Franklin Katzenberg.

Three other names hovered a few lines above: Eric, Catherine, and Candice Kane.

Jennifer gasped and her hand clapped over her mouth. Jacob's sister was named Candy Kane. She looked at the date of birth and did a quick mental calculation. She was twelve when she died.

”Oh G.o.d,” she breathed.

The wipers flicked back and forth, throwing sheets of rain off the winds.h.i.+eld. The rain tapered to a drizzle when he pulled away from Jennifer's house, but picked back up again as he drove. Jacob's twisted hand choked the steering wheel, sending shooters of pain through his forearm as if the boot heel still ground on it.

He pa.s.sed the memorial at the footing of the old bridge, and stared straight ahead until the Aston Martin took the turn onto Hill Road with authority. He worked the s.h.i.+fter and focused on keeping the car on the road until he reached the top of the hill.

Jacob's a.s.sistant waited inside the converted carriage house that served as a garage. Faisal opened the car door, and as Jacob stepped out, his a.s.sistant looked inside and sighed at the wet marks on the seats and floor.

”I'll have that water taken care of, sir.”

”Whatever,” he said. Worrying about the car left a sour taste in his mouth. ”How's the work going?”

”We're at ninety percent.”

”I need completion by the weekend.”

Why the rush? You're not having guests. You can't seriously be considering taking her up on her offer.

Entertaining the idea of taking her out was something he didn't have time for. He'd have to let Jennifer down gently. Getting close to anyone would paint a target on their back.

She wasn't supposed to be here.

Jacob scanned the perimeter. Every rock and tree could hide an enemy.

The workmen set up the main floor and bedrooms, the last unfinished parts of the house. A pair of carpenters worked on the built-in shelving for his library while another team dragged the huge refrigerator into the kitchen. Booted feet stomped upstairs as workmen rolled out carpeting, wrestled heavy antiques into place, and slapped fresh paint on the walls.

Lacking doors, the cabinetry frames in the bare bones kitchen resembled a wooden honeycomb. The steel door in the corner would appear as a common pantry when all the cabinets and appliances were in place. Now the quarter inch thick door with its four deadbolts and steel reinforcements stuck out like a sore thumb.

Faisal jogged down the newly built stairs, and Jacob followed after locking the door from the inside. The bas.e.m.e.nt was half as big as the house. A desk and computers were just past the bottom of the stairs. Next to that were the filing cabinets that housed paper records, photocopies of microfilm, and anything else too precious to trust to electronic storage. He kept a cot at the far end. The bedroom upstairs was for show.

A vault in the corner served as his gun safe. Weighing six tons and almost ten feet wide by eight feet tall, a crane had to bear it into the house. Exercise equipment lined the opposite wall: mats, two heavy bags, speed bags, squat racks, the works.

Jacob pulled off his polo s.h.i.+rt and tossed it out of the way before holding out his hands. Faisal applied the wraps, and then Jacob pounded the heavy bag with his fists. Slight and barely more than a boy, Faisal braced himself against the swinging bag.