What galled her most was that it was Adam Kane she cared most about impressing. Right now he was acting as if she should be able to focus, to think as clearly as she usually did.
Unfortunately, nothing could be further from the truth. Her life was falling apart around her and she hadn’t a clue what to do about it.
Adam was determined to escort Sara home from the fire station that night whether she liked it or not. It wasn’t a difficult chore since she lived in one of the apartments located above the offices and shops that lined all four sides of the Paradise town square. An old-fashioned courthouse sat in the center while police and fire stations were on Church Street, a short block east off the main drag.
“I jogged over. I can walk home,” she insisted.
“Good for you. Humor me and get in.” He held the door to his ranch pickup truck open for her before circling and sliding behind the wheel.
“Aren’t you on duty tonight?”
“Yes. But I won’t be far away. I have everything I need with me in case we get another call.”
“I sure hope we don’t.”
“Yeah, me, too.” He turned the final corner and pulled to the curb in front of Sara’s apartment, above Cynthia Weatherly’s insurance agency office. He got out and circled to open the passenger door.
“I can open my own doors, Adam.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, clearly mocking.
“All right. Sorry. Thanks.”
“My pleasure.”
He trailed close behind, almost bumping into Sara when she stopped on the stairs and asked, “What are you doing?”
“Seeing you to your door.”
“Why?”
“Because the chief of police asked me to.” And because there is no way I’m going to let you walk into possible danger without me.
“That’s ridiculous. Besides, since when is Chief Magill giving orders to Chief Ellis’s firefighters?”
“Since one of his deputies has the flu and the others are still at the scene of the fire, looking for clues to who took those potshots at you.”
Lights around the courthouse cast a yellowish glow and sent shadows all the way across the street to engulf the exterior staircase of the brick-faced building. It was situations like this that he’d learned to avoid in a war zone. Where there was darkness, there could be a hidden enemy—and often was.
Adam grasped Sara’s upper arms through the sleeves of her light jacket. “Look, I don’t care whether you believe you’re in danger or not. Denial won’t change reality. I don’t know why you were a target tonight but I don’t doubt for a second that you were. Whether or not the shooter meant to hit you is the only thing in question. He did miss.”
She faced him, her chin jutting. “Are you this touchy because somebody tried to shoot you, too?”
The guttural noise Adam made as he threw both hands into the air was totally instinctive. The woman was impossible. And so special it made him crazy.
Refocusing, he managed to affect a calmer demeanor. “What is it with you, Sara? Why can’t you just accept a good deed without psychoanalyzing it or inventing excuses for why it isn’t genuine?”
He didn’t know what kind of response he’d expected but it sure wasn’t the one he got. Blinking back unshed tears, she stood tall. “Because I don’t deserve it, Adam. You were right. It’s my fault Vicki died. I should never have encouraged her to go on the mission trip with me in the first place, and I should have tied her to a tree that night if that was what it took to keep her safe.”
“You had no way of knowing what was going to happen.”
“No, but I did have strong misgivings. She was so excited and so proud to have uncovered what she thought was corruption I probably didn’t try hard enough to talk her out of wading into the water. I could have stopped her, somehow. I should have done more.” Sara paused to sniffle. “I should have gone with her, at the very least. Then maybe she’d still be alive.”
Adam placed his hands gently on her shoulders and shook his head. “No, Sara. You could both have died.”
“Maybe that would have been for the best.”
As she covered her eyes and began to sob he gave in to the urge to embrace her, to pull her close. His heart was pounding and his breath shuddered as she wept against his uniform shirt.
He wanted to kiss her, to hold her and promise to never let her go. To assure her that losing her would have made his heart ache until the end of time.
Instead, he understood her survivor’s guilt and simply said, “No. It wouldn’t.”
* * *
Sara didn’t know how long they stood there. Nor did she care. These were the tears she hadn’t yet been able to shed for her loss and having Adam there, supporting her, was an unbelievable relief and comfort. Finally, she eased away. “Sorry. I got your shirt all wet.”
“It’s not the first time I’ve been wet tonight,” he quipped. Lifting his head he pointed with his chin. “Go on up whenever you’re ready. I’ll wait right here and watch until I see you’re safely inside.”
Managing a smile she wiped her damp cheeks with her fingertips. “I thought you were coming with me.”
“I still will if that’s what you want. I just thought it might be awkward, considering...”
This was his standard reaction to being too close to her, she recalled, feeling a little miffed. Well, she could hardly blame him. After all, she had just spent far too long clinging to him and crying her eyes out. Yes, her motives were innocent but it was perfectly natural for him to be uneasy. In view of the fluttering in her veins and an undeniable sense of excitement, she wasn’t all that comfortable with their present situation, either.
Her smile widened and she patted his arm. “I get it. You’re right. I would rather go up alone. I assure you, I’m quite capable of unlocking my own door. Been doing it for years. Good night, Adam.”
“Good night.”
Without further delay Sara completed her climb and fitted her key in the lock. Hesitating on the landing, she waved goodbye to him, hoping her crying jag hadn’t permanently spoiled his good opinion of her. Adam had always been a reliable friend. A rock. Even if he never chose to see her as anything more than a buddy she’d have to be content.
Blanketed by her errant thoughts and feelings she broke eye contact.
Opened the door and took a step into the apartment.
Gasped. And screamed!
Adam was taking the stairs two at a time before he even realized he was moving. He burst in behind her, expecting a flesh-and-blood adversary. Instead, he was looking at the worst job of vandalism he’d ever seen. Furniture was slashed and overturned. Cupboards gaped open with their contents strewn on the floor, much of it broken. A fractured floor lamp lay across the end of the coffee table as if it had been used as a battering ram.
He pushed Sara behind him. “Stay here while I check the way I should have in the first place.”
A crimson footprint low on one wall showed clearly because someone had dumped