youâre too bigâbut you know all about him, donât you?â
âYes. Now listen to me, Becca. Iâm not here to hurt you. Iâm here toâHey, think of me as your own personal guardian angel.â
âYouâre so dark, you look more like the devil, but youâre taller than I think the devil is. Whatâs more, unlike the devil, Iâll bet you donât have a lick of charm. The last thing you are is a guardian angel. Youâre a reporter or a paparazzo, arenât you?â
âNow youâve offended me.â She nearly laughed. But she had to remember he was dangerous, fast and dangerous. She couldnât afford to forget that, not for an instant. She would still have laughed if her gut hadnât been frozen with fear for nearly as long as she could remember. He was trying to disarm her, at least figuratively this time. Thank goodness he didnât have use of her gun. And he was too far away to kick out at her. But he was fast. He had long legs. She took another step back, as insurance.
She waved the knife at him. âIâve had it. Tell me who you are. Tell me now or I might have to hurt you. Donât underestimate me, Iâm strong. No, itâs more than that. Iâm beyond frightened. Iâve got nothing to lose now.â
He looked at herâtoo pale, her flesh drawn tightly over her bones, too thin, so stressed out he could nearly see her insides quivering. He said slowly, his voice as unthreatening as he could make it, âTo hurt me youâd have to come closer. You know better than to do that. Yeah, youâre strong, maybe I wouldnât even want to run into you in a dark alley. But thereâs a big something youâre wrong about. Everyone has something to lose, including you. Things have just gotten a bit out of hand for you, thatâs all.â
âA bit out of hand,â she repeated slowly, then laughed, an ugly, raw sound. âYou have no idea what youâre talking about.â She waited, just stood there, the knife up and arched, her hand starting to cramp, her muscles starting to protest, staring at him, wondering what to do, wondering if she could believe him and knowing sheâd be a fool even to consider it.
He said, âActually, I do. What I wanted to say was that the media and the press are after you in full force, thatâs a fact, but you should be safe here.â
âYou found me.â
âYeah, but Iâm so good I occasionally even surprise myself.â
She raised the knife even higher. She felt the sun warm between her shoulder blades. It was a beautiful day and everything was a mess. He was her guardian angel? Her arm muscles were burning.
He started to say something more, then stopped. It was the look on her face that kept him quiet. It was like they were both frozen in time and place. Then she surprised the hell out of him. She dropped the knife to the ground and walked straight up to him. She stopped a foot short, looked up at him thoughtfully, then stuck out her hand. He shook hers, bemused, as she said, âIf youâre my guardian angel, then get on the phone to the medical examinerâs office in Augusta and find out how long that poor woman who fell out of my basement wall was buried in there.â
He didnât release her hand. She was tall. He didnât have to look down that far. âAll right.â
She snapped her fingers in front of his nose. âJust like that? Youâre so powerful you can find out something just that fast?â
âIn this case, yes, I can. You donât look much like your mother.â
The hand stiffened, but she didnât jerk free. She said calmly, âNo, I donât. Mom always told me that Iâm the picture of my dad. My dadâhis name was Thomasâhe died after the Vietnam war was over. It was very unfair. He was still a hero. My mother loved him very much, probably too