typed a brief message on his laptop keyboard. The email sent, he shut down the computer and returned his attention to Hannah.
She spoke quietly. "What you’ve told me coincides with the letters and postcards I used to receive from Sean, but I need more than a travelogue, Nicholas. Whether out of loyalty to him or out of some desire to stop me from finding my brother, you’ve skimmed the surface of his life. I don’t appreciate your clouding the issue, nor do I care where he’s been, or, for that matter, what he’s done since he left home. I have no intention of judging or condemning Sean, so there’s no need to protect him any longer. It’s not necessary. It never has been."
He pondered her for several silent minutes, then reached out and flicked a series of switches on the panel atop his desk. Two wall panels simultaneously slid out of sight to reveal a large, sensor–studded grid map of his property. The second expanse contained a collection of TV monitors, which scanned every room in the house, except the bathrooms, and the exterior grounds immediately around the dwelling. Nicholas then flipped another switch.
First, she heard the sound of the radio she’d left on in the kitchen at lunch time. The whistling sound of the wind followed as it buffeted the roofline of the house. She gaped at the exotic array of security devices and communications equipment housed in his office.
When she finally dragged her gaze back to Nicholas, she said, "I’m in way over my head, aren’t I?"
"On the surface, it probably appears that way. There’s no need to worry about your own personal safety."
"But most people don’t…" She groped for the right words. "I mean, you’ve got enough equipment here to open your own electronics outlet. This is not just a simple case of protecting your privacy, is it?"
"Exactly."
"And you’re certain you’re not being paranoid?" Hannah couldn’t wrap her mind around the idea that anyone could require such elaborate protection from the outside world.
He smiled, but his attempt at a reassuring expression served to enhance the strained look on his face. "I probably am a bit paranoid."
"Is Sean in danger?"
"Threats exist," he conceded, "but they’re manageable, as you can see."
"Are you…" Hannah paused, suddenly flustered. In the seconds that followed, she tried to come to terms with what Nicholas had just revealed, not just her realization that his survival and happiness meant everything to her. She made herself complete the question. "Are you in danger, too?"
"I have been."
"For heaven’s sake, why?" she exclaimed. "What kind of man are you? What exactly have you and Sean done to cause people to want to harm you?"
Nicholas exhaled, the harsh sound revealing the toll of too many years lived in a heightened state of self–protective awareness. Leaning forward, he rested his forearms atop his desk and peered at Hannah with an intensity that assured her he was doing more than gathering his thoughts.
He finally said, "We’re just men who’ve lived life by a different set of rules, rules that alter a man’s values and make it hard for him to trust anyone."
"Do you trust yourself enough to know the difference?" she couldn’t help asking. "I mean, you can’t really believe that most people hold a grudge against you or want to kill you."
"Not most people," he agreed, "although the last woman who wandered onto my property was a paid assassin."
"You must be kidding!"
"I don’t kid about death, Hannah."
She heard resignation to a reality she could barely comprehend, not just the echo of loneliness in his voice that made her heart ache. What had Nicholas—or Sean, for that matter—done to become the target of even one act of violence, let alone the possibility of repeated attempts to kill them?
She nodded. "I believe you."
In that moment, Hannah stopped blaming Nicholas for his baffling behavior. She also ceased her resentment of his suspicious nature. She even forgave him
She spoke quietly. "What you’ve told me coincides with the letters and postcards I used to receive from Sean, but I need more than a travelogue, Nicholas. Whether out of loyalty to him or out of some desire to stop me from finding my brother, you’ve skimmed the surface of his life. I don’t appreciate your clouding the issue, nor do I care where he’s been, or, for that matter, what he’s done since he left home. I have no intention of judging or condemning Sean, so there’s no need to protect him any longer. It’s not necessary. It never has been."
He pondered her for several silent minutes, then reached out and flicked a series of switches on the panel atop his desk. Two wall panels simultaneously slid out of sight to reveal a large, sensor–studded grid map of his property. The second expanse contained a collection of TV monitors, which scanned every room in the house, except the bathrooms, and the exterior grounds immediately around the dwelling. Nicholas then flipped another switch.
First, she heard the sound of the radio she’d left on in the kitchen at lunch time. The whistling sound of the wind followed as it buffeted the roofline of the house. She gaped at the exotic array of security devices and communications equipment housed in his office.
When she finally dragged her gaze back to Nicholas, she said, "I’m in way over my head, aren’t I?"
"On the surface, it probably appears that way. There’s no need to worry about your own personal safety."
"But most people don’t…" She groped for the right words. "I mean, you’ve got enough equipment here to open your own electronics outlet. This is not just a simple case of protecting your privacy, is it?"
"Exactly."
"And you’re certain you’re not being paranoid?" Hannah couldn’t wrap her mind around the idea that anyone could require such elaborate protection from the outside world.
He smiled, but his attempt at a reassuring expression served to enhance the strained look on his face. "I probably am a bit paranoid."
"Is Sean in danger?"
"Threats exist," he conceded, "but they’re manageable, as you can see."
"Are you…" Hannah paused, suddenly flustered. In the seconds that followed, she tried to come to terms with what Nicholas had just revealed, not just her realization that his survival and happiness meant everything to her. She made herself complete the question. "Are you in danger, too?"
"I have been."
"For heaven’s sake, why?" she exclaimed. "What kind of man are you? What exactly have you and Sean done to cause people to want to harm you?"
Nicholas exhaled, the harsh sound revealing the toll of too many years lived in a heightened state of self–protective awareness. Leaning forward, he rested his forearms atop his desk and peered at Hannah with an intensity that assured her he was doing more than gathering his thoughts.
He finally said, "We’re just men who’ve lived life by a different set of rules, rules that alter a man’s values and make it hard for him to trust anyone."
"Do you trust yourself enough to know the difference?" she couldn’t help asking. "I mean, you can’t really believe that most people hold a grudge against you or want to kill you."
"Not most people," he agreed, "although the last woman who wandered onto my property was a paid assassin."
"You must be kidding!"
"I don’t kid about death, Hannah."
She heard resignation to a reality she could barely comprehend, not just the echo of loneliness in his voice that made her heart ache. What had Nicholas—or Sean, for that matter—done to become the target of even one act of violence, let alone the possibility of repeated attempts to kill them?
She nodded. "I believe you."
In that moment, Hannah stopped blaming Nicholas for his baffling behavior. She also ceased her resentment of his suspicious nature. She even forgave him
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