Crossfire. Jodie Bailey

don’t doubt that. But I also don’t intend to let you get caught in the crossfire.”

      He gripped the file and stood, looking down at her, his throat tight with emotions he couldn’t define, though exasperation was probably highest on the list. “Too late.” Without looking back, he stalked to the door and vanished into the lobby.

      * * *

      Andrea glanced at her cell phone and winced. Nearly lunchtime. With Grace on vacation, she’d made the calls to her Friday appointments and canceled them last night, unsure if anyone would even be allowed in the building today. With no sessions, the day dragged on without mercy. It had been a vain hope that patient-free time would let her catch up on paperwork, but yesterday’s stress had scattered her thinking and twisted her mind to such an extent that even the smallest task took an eternity to complete.

      It didn’t help that Josh had stormed out of her office over two hours ago, carried by emotions she couldn’t begin to puzzle out.

      Okay, maybe he hadn’t exactly stormed out, but the rigid line of his spine and the complete silence of his exit spoke more than shouts ever would. As much as she’d replayed their conversation, she couldn’t figure out exactly what would cause that kind of reaction. Yes, she’d been stubborn, but that didn’t warrant his response.

      She knew the only reason he was still in the lobby was because he’d never leave with that file, no matter how hot his anger simmered. He might disagree with her, but something told her he had the same integrity as always. She’d expected him to duck back in with something. A comment on Wade’s file, an apology for his strange behavior, a question about lunch... But nothing. Two hours and nothing.

      Analyzing that man was half of the reason her paperwork had dragged on so long. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t ignore the pull of his presence just a few feet away, on the other side of a door that might as well be made of lead.

      A familiar low hum pulsed into the room. It took a moment for Andrea to place the sound, and when it processed, she whirled as a sheet slipped into the wireless printer. The wheels on her chair squeaked as she rolled backward. Josh couldn’t have logged into Grace’s computer without a password, so who was printing on her machine?

      Slowly, an image formed. Andrea and Dutch, standing by her car. This morning. The photo was taken this time through a car windshield from one of the parking lots to the west of the center.

      Again, red words were scrawled across the photo. We’re still watching.

      She drew in a sharp breath and willed her fingers not to shake as she pulled the paper from the machine.

      Andrea shoved her chair back and stood, every cell focused on that photo. “Josh?”

      No answer.

      Spider steps of fear ran up her arms. Not knowing what was happening on the other side of the door made her body tense. She swallowed hard and shook off the irrational thought that someone had slipped in and murdered Josh while she worked only feet away. Things like that didn’t happen outside of horror movies. Or war zones. Even though her life felt like both right now, that couldn’t possibly happen. “Josh? They sent another picture.” That should get his attention.

      Still nothing. No rustle of movement. No answering call. It was as still as if she were alone in the world.

      Something was definitely wrong. Andrea edged toward the door and gathered her last ounce of courage, ignoring the pounding of her heart as it throbbed in her ears. As softly as possible, she eased the door open, keeping out of sight from the windows in the lobby, trying to catch a glimpse of Josh.

      The midday sun, nearly straight overhead, bounced off the windshield of her car in the parking lot, reflecting on the glass in the lobby and casting shadows that wavered in the heat. Josh sat at Grace’s desk with his arms crossed, just out of reach of the brightest streaks, his forehead resting on his palms, seemingly absorbed in the file in front of him. From this angle, though, she could see that his eyes weren’t on the pages but focused on the front windows.

      Josh glanced to the side when she appeared in the doorway. “Stay there,” he hissed.

      Andrea blinked against the adrenaline that shot through her from her scalp to her toes. “What’s wrong?”

      “Hopefully nothing.” Josh shifted, raised his head and stretched, rubbing the back of his neck. He ran his hand down his face to block his mouth. “Truck pulled up in the parking lot about three minutes ago.”

      “Did you call the police?”

      “Not yet. I don’t want to tip them off that I—” His entire body tensed, his fingers tightening on his face. “Go in your office. Lock the door. Now.”

      “But—”

      “Someone’s coming. Now!”

      The whispered shout galvanized her. Without waiting to see what came next, Andrea slammed the door and pushed the lock, then looked around the room and lunged for the phone on her desk.

      There were no windows to see what was happening. No portal through which to escape. Her adrenaline-numbed fingers fumbled the handset of her desk phone.

      No way out. She had no way out.

      And she’d left Josh at the mercy of a potential killer.