Countdown to Danger: Alive After New Year / New Year's Target

She chuckled.

He felt a little squeeze in the region of his chest. It was a warning sign; Lynley had begun to settle even more deeply into his heart. It alarmed him now as it did every time he thought about it.

“Turn left again at the next road.”

“How many times did we go over these directions before—”

“Now turn right. Trust me, it’s a short, one-block street, and it’s hard to—”

“Turn right here?”

“Left, then immediately right. Maybe you weren’t listening.”

“I could always have used the GPS.”

“Someday she’s going to disappear and you’ll never find her.”

“Oh, but I’ll know who did the dastardly deed.”

“That won’t matter. You’ll need proof.”

“How many traffic signals did you say Cassville has?”

“Three, I believe.”

He shook his head. “And you thought I’d get lost in a town this size?” He’d thought his hometown of Sikeston, Missouri, across the state, was small, but tiny farming communities were the norm in the Missouri Ozarks. The closest shopping mall was in Springfield, over an hour’s drive from Jolly Mill.

The charm of a small town outclassed the convenience of the third-largest city in Missouri for Lynley, however, and since she was a country girl at heart, she came home to stay with Kirstie whenever she didn’t have back-to-back shifts at the hospital.

John smiled when he tried to count how many of Lynley’s friends just happened to mention, with a wink, that she never used to come home so often. She’d been scheduled for two shifts this week, and neither John, Gerard nor Kirstie had been able to make her call the hospital and cancel those shifts yesterday.

Later last night, after Kirstie had gone to bed with an old rifle under her pillow and Gerard had gone home with his wife, John tried again.

“Lynley, I can’t believe you,” he’d said. “None of us can know when you might come under attack. It’s foolhardy to attempt to work under these circumstances.”

“Then come with me.”

“You think the hospital will allow you to have a bodyguard all day?”

“No, because the hospital won’t know about this threat.”

“And why is that?” he asked.

“Because I won’t tell them.”

“That, too, is foolhardy. You need to consider your patients. They could be in danger, too.”

Lynley picked up the note and shook it in his face. “You said this was written by someone who’s greedy, not someone out for revenge. That means the hospital will be a safe place to be. So I’m going. End of argument.”

“You know what? It’s one thing to be strong and determined. It’s dangerous to be as bullheaded and stubborn as a...an old bull.” Great way with words, Russell.

And Lynley laughed. Which made John angry.

He got up and paced across the living room floor. “Sandra would never have done this.”

He didn’t realize he’d spoken the words aloud until he turned back to see Lynley’s eyes widening and her lips parting. “Done what?” she asked softly. Too softly.

He sank into the recliner across the room from her. “Laughed at me for worrying about her safety.”

“What would she have done?”

“She’d have done as I asked, even if she believed it was only for my own peace of mind.”

In the long silence afterward, John realized he’d breached a deadly boundary. A man with any sense never compared the woman he was seeing with an ex-wife, a former girlfriend, his mother and especially not his late wife, whom he’d loved with all his heart.

“Then for your own peace of mind,” Lynley said, her voice still soft, “you should remember I’m not your wife.” She got up and went to bed.

Early this morning he found a note slipped beneath the guest room door where he had stayed with his Glock beneath the pillow. “Just so you know,” the note said, “I’m not your wife, and you don’t have a right to tell me what to do, but I have decided to take leave until after the first of the year.”

He’d had to smother his laughter in his pillow. He’d folded the note and placed it into his billfold.

* * *

Lynley kept her mouth shut as John made two more turns. He’d been right—he didn’t need her to sit beside him and direct. The man had an excellent sense of direction. He also had a comfortable way about him. They could sit together in silence and not be uncomfortable.

She, however, grew less comfortable the closer they got to her former home. Though she knew how to handle the weapon in the glove compartment, she’d never actually had to use one for self-protection. She couldn’t go in with John, but she didn’t want to sit in the car. And why was she so uncomfortable about that? It didn’t make sense. John would be interviewing the only suspect they had, so it wasn’t as if a prospective killer would be hanging around the car.

“Hey, I have an idea,” she said. “You have your Bluetooth earpiece, right?”

He patted his pocket.

“And I have mine in my purse. Why don’t we link up? If Dodge says something untrue, I can tell you. I can follow the interview that way.”

He frowned. “Interesting thought. We might be in iffy territory, though. You’re the victim, and a victim should never be in the same room as a suspect.”

“I wouldn’t be in the same room. He might think he’s being recorded if he sees the earpiece, but he won’t know I’m on the other end.”

“Okay, get your earpiece out and call me when the time comes.”

She let out a lungful of air she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Thanks. I think I need that connection right now. I’m getting a little nervous.”

“Just remember you’ve got me right here between the two of you. He can’t get to you.”

“I know.” She always felt safe when she was with John. “Um...you remember that thing we argued about last night?”

“Which thing? We argued about more than one—”

“I’m talking about the main argument.”