Random Acts Read online

  Resigned she couldn’t put it off any longer, she punched in her administrative assistant’s number on her cell phone. The missed calls and voice-mail counters indicated Sandra had been trying to reach Danielle all morning. A nagging dread dogged her. She imagined impeccably groomed Sandra’s distinct disapproval at being unable to reach Danielle. Sandra prided herself on efficiency and expected the same from the lawyers with whom she worked.

  Danielle pressed the phone to her ear. “I’ve been trying to reach you,” her assistant said, her frustrated tone not at all surprising. Sandra had starting working for Danielle’s boss some thirty years ago when the term secretary was still in vogue. When Danielle had been promoted last year, Sandra had suddenly added the youngest member of the firm to her slate of lawyers. She suspected Sandra wasn’t very pleased but had taken on her newest charge with professionalism mixed with a moderate dose of stern mothering.

  “What’s going on?” Danielle was too tired to hide the edge in her tone. What could possibly have gone wrong at work already? She thought of the files stacked neatly on her desk. In reality, any number of problems might have cropped up. That’s why she never took a day off.

  “You left a brusque message regarding a family emergency?”

  “My sister has been in a car accident.” The reality of her words had yet to sink in.

  “Oh dear,” Sandra said, “I hope she’s okay.”

  Me too. “Thank you.” Danielle cleared her throat. “Is there something urgent at work?”

  “Mr. McCoy had a few questions on the contract.” McCoy was one of her biggest clients, a self-made millionaire real-estate developer. The kind of client her firm was known to represent. The kind who paid the bills.

  “I’ll get back to him.” Danielle absentmindedly ran her hand along the rough edge of the wood swing.

  “Never mind. I gave John the file.”

  “Oh…” She struggled to find the words. John was another young lawyer in the firm, one who’d love to home in on such a high-profile client. “Was that really necessary?”

  “It couldn’t wait.” A sniff sounded across the line. “And Danielle?”

  “Yes?” A flicker of apprehension washed over her.

  “A Miss Tina Welch called.” She said the words as if reading them from a note.

  Danielle’s heart dropped. Tina Welch. She was only supposed to call Danielle’s cell phone. She slouched against the hard wood slats of the porch swing. Tina had probably left a voice mail. When Danielle hadn’t gotten back to her sooner, Tina had probably become anxious and called the main switchboard. “Did she say what she wanted?” She tugged at the ponytail, freeing her hair. She pressed her fingers to the back of her neck, easing some of the pent-up frustration.

  “No, but she sounded upset.” Sandra paused. “I don’t seem to have her name on file.”

  Tina usually was upset. Life hadn’t dealt the young woman an easy hand. She was currently facing foreclosure and becoming homeless with her young son. Empathetic to her situation, Danielle had offered to help Tina on her own time. Sandra wouldn’t understand. Neither would her bosses.

  “It’s personal.” As soon as the words came out of Danielle’s mouth, she wanted to call them back. Danielle didn’t have a personal life. It’s what made her excel at work. Gave her an edge when it came to promotions. The firm wouldn’t be happy if they knew one of their lawyers wasted billable hours on a client who couldn’t pay. Because technically all of her time was potentially billable hours.

  “Did she leave a number?” Danielle tapped her fingers on the arm of the swing and shifted in her seat. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed something moving. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Snapping her head around, she pushed off the swing. She grabbed the chain to stop it from clattering against the railing. Narrowing her gaze, she scanned the dark edge of trees and bushes lining the property. A splash of orange caught her eye then vanished. Her pulse roared in her ears. The digits her assistant rattled off barely registered. It didn’t matter. The number was undoubtedly on her list of missed calls.

  “Okay, thanks.” Distracted, Danielle ended the call. Wrapping her fingers around the sleek plastic of her cell phone, she pressed it to her chest. Was someone out there? Watching her?

  The distinct sound of a twig snapping sent a surge of cold fear racing through her veins. Leaning on the wood railing, a white chip of paint dug into her palm. She cleared her throat. “Hello, is someone there?”

  “Is everything okay?”

  Danielle spun around, surprise and something akin to fear lighting her crystal-clear blue eyes. Patrick planted a foot on the bottom step of the porch and leaned on the railing with crossed arms. “Is everything okay?”

  Danielle shook her head, her golden-auburn locks flowing freely over her shoulders. “I heard something over there.” She pointed toward the trees. “Probably an animal.”

  “I’ll check it out.” He strolled toward the tree line and glanced over his shoulder at her. Something in Danielle’s body language and intense gaze spoke of her genuine concern. He stepped carefully into the wooded area. A thick blanket of decaying leaves crunched under his feet. The tree branches above blocked the remaining light of the overcast afternoon, and a chill cut through the thin fabric of his uniform shirt as he scanned the deep shadows. He could barely make out the shapes of the trees, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

  After listening in silence for a few moments, he returned to Danielle. “Must have been an animal. I’ve seen a few deer recently.”

  Briefly closing her eyes, she nodded. “I’m just jittery. Caffeine and lack of sleep. Not a good combination.” She ran a hand through the loose strands of her hair.

  “It’s nice.”

  The corners of Danielle’s delicate mouth turned down in confusion.

  He jerked his chin toward her. “Your hair. It looks nice down.”

  She shrugged, seemingly self-conscious. “It’s a mess.”

  Sensing he had said too much, Patrick lifted his hand, jangling a set of keys. “Left my vehicle in your driveway. Can’t very well get back to work without it.”

  “Of course.” She glanced at the police cruiser sitting in the driveway. “I’ll have to rent a car. I hadn’t expected to be in Mayport for more than a day or two.”

  “We can take care of that later. I’ll bring you and Gram up to the hospital this afternoon.”

  “We’ve already taken too much of your time.” She crossed to the top of the steps and tapped her fingers on the rail. “I’m sure you have other work to do.”

  “No rest for the weary.”

  “Right.” The smile slipped from her face.

  Had he said something to offend her?

  Danielle pressed her lips together and bowed her head, seemingly studying the pile of leaves trapped at the bottom of the porch steps. After a beat of silence, she lifted her face, her expressive eyes radiating a deep hurt.

  What was going on in her pretty little head? He mentally shook away the thought. Never mind. It was too easy to get emotionally caught up with Danielle considering their shared past.

  “I’m sorry about your wife,” Danielle said, her words jarring him. “I should have sent a card, but then too much time had passed…” The words trailed off and she looked down, her lashes sweeping her smooth cheeks.

  “Thanks.” He let out a long breath. “It’s been a tough go.”

  “Gram told me you moved back last year.” Lacing her fingers in front of her, she came down the porch steps, closing the distance between them, her soft floral fragrance awakening his senses.

  “Ava and I tried to make a go of it on the base, but in the end we decided to move home. I needed Bunny’s help.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “Not easy for a single dad to raise a daughter.”

  “I’m sure Bunny loves having her granddaughter to dote on”

  Patrick laughed. “After raising two boys, she’s in her glory. But you know Bunny. Sh
e loves Ava to pieces, but she refuses to be called Grandma. Kinda like how she never liked to be called Mom.” He leaned back on the railing and let his eyes take in her delicate features. “It’s great to see you.” He reached out and brushed away a strand of hair caught on the corner of her mouth. He sensed a subtle flinch, but she didn’t back away. “I wish it had been under different circumstances.”

  “Me too.” Pink colored her cheeks.

  “You haven’t been home in a while.”

  “Work keeps me busy.” A far-away look descended into her eyes. “And you were right earlier. It’s more than that. This town doesn’t exactly conjure up the best memories.”

  “I hope that doesn’t include me.”

  She glared down her nose at him before a playful smile brightened her face. “I see your ego’s intact.”

  “I never had a big ego.” He furrowed his brow and jerked his head back in mock indignation.

  Leaning in, her breath whispered across his cheek, taunting him. “Give me a break. The hot-shot high school quarterback. Didn’t you date the prom queen?”

  Patrick ran a hand across his chin. “I wonder what happened to what’s-her-name?”

  She swatted at him. “I have a feeling you left a lot of girls in your wake.” A serious expression darkened her eyes.

  He dared to trace a finger down her smooth cheek, his eyes drifting to her soft, warm lips. Her features stilled. “You were so young,” he said, his voice husky. “Had just graduated from high school. And my mother…” How could he put into words the confused emotions of a man barely out of his teens?

  Shaking her head, Danielle took a few steps. The dead leaves crunched under her feet. “I’m glad you figured it out for the both of us.”

  He scrubbed a hand across his face. “Man, we both were young.”

  “You’re right.” She lifted her palms, her expression growing hard. “No harm. No foul. It was just a summer fling, right? You already had Lisa back at college.”

  “Lisa and I weren’t dating that summer. I wouldn’t have kissed you if I’d had a girlfriend.” He reached out for her hand, but she stepped out of his grasp. “Is that what you thought?”

  “Does it really matter?” She waved him away. “It was a lifetime ago.”

  It did seem like a lifetime ago. He and Danielle had been strictly friends for almost four years. Then he came home the summer after she graduated from high school and realized his tomboy neighbor had grown into a beautiful young woman. His heart tightened at the memory.

  “I met Lisa the fall of my senior year in college,” he explained. “We had one of those whirlwind romances. It made sense to get married when I graduated because I was being deployed.”

  Danielle nodded, her lips pressing into a thin line. A sheen of something he couldn’t quite identify shone in her eyes.

  “It is nice to see you.” He reached out. This time he was able to squeeze her forearm. Had he sensed a quiet trembling?

  “Nice to see you too.” Danielle slipped past him. “It’s chilly out here.” She rubbed her hands down her arms. “I need to see if Gram is ready to go to the hospital.” She disappeared into the house, leaving him standing in the cold.

  Chapter Four

  Danielle climbed into her childhood bed and pulled the covers to her chin, relieved to be alone. The trip to the hospital had left her exhausted and emotionally spent. Gram had nearly fainted when she had seen Jenny’s bruised face and battered body. The fleeting nature of life was never more evident than when Danielle stood by her sister’s hospital bed with her grandmother who suddenly seemed older than her years.

  Danielle hated to admit it, but Patrick had been a huge comfort since this ordeal had begun. He had shown such warmth and compassion to both her and her grandmother. The familiar pangs of guilt twisted her insides. How had she moved away without a second thought, abandoning the only woman who had shown her love? The reality of the situation had become clear. Jenny needed her. Gram needed her.

  But she had responsibilities in Atlanta.

  Danielle flipped over her pillow and punched it. She curled up on her side and pressed her eyes closed. Sleep eluded her.

  She wasn’t sure how long she had been lying there dozing when suddenly she opened her eyes. Adrenaline surged through her veins. The blood in her ears roared, deafening her. Sucking in deep breaths, she struggled to shake the nauseating mix of panic and confusion. The obscure outlines in the darkened room were as disorienting as the jolt of emotions swirling through her system. Where was she? And what had startled her out of a fitful sleep?

  Danielle pushed up on her elbow and blinked. The forms in the bedroom took shape. Ah, my childhood bedroom. The thick branches of the oak tree outside her window swayed in the wind, a few thin branches clacking against the exterior wall. The old windows rattled in their frames.

  The large red letters on the digital clock read 3:33. Danielle lay back down and pulled the covers up, trying to get comfortable, but she feared she’d never get back to sleep, not with the events of the past twenty-four hours crowding in on her again.

  She rubbed a hand across her eyes and tossed back the scratchy sheets. Why bother pretending? Her nerves were on overdrive. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and braced herself for the inevitable chill of the cold hard wood on her bare feet. Some things you never forgot. Her townhouse had plush carpeting in the bedroom.

  She glanced toward the bathroom adjoining this room with her sister’s. Her sister… “Jenny, where were you going? What made you run off the road?” Tears burned the back of her eyes. She took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Things always seemed much worse in the dark of night.

  An idea struck her. One she should have considered earlier if her brain hadn’t been frazzled. Between her sister’s accident and seeing Patrick again, she hadn’t thought of her sister’s cell phone. Maybe there was a record of a phone call prior to her going out. She scratched her forehead. Did it really matter where Jenny was going? It wouldn’t change the outcome. But it was just like her to try to put everything in a neat little box.

  A crash sounded through the quiet air. She froze, still seated on the edge of the bed. Tiny pinpricks swept across her scalp. The strumming of her pulse in her ears made it impossible to hear. A thud vibrated the cold floor beneath her feet. Swallowing hard, she felt for her cell phone on the nightstand. Her clumsy movements knocked it to the wood floor with a resounding clatter. She sucked in a breath and glanced toward the door. Only shadows. And silence.

  She got down on all fours and breathed a sigh of relief when her fingers brushed the hard plastic of her cell phone. After getting to her feet, she tiptoed across the frigid floor to the bathroom. Holding her breath, she paused in the doorway, straining to hear.

  Another creak pierced the dead of night. Footsteps in the kitchen? She doubted Gram would venture downstairs at this hour. Panic seized her heart. No, Gram definitely wouldn’t be wandering around the kitchen. She had helped her grandmother climb the stairs to her second-floor bedroom before retiring and it wasn’t likely she’d wandered downstairs in the dark.

  Heart racing, Danielle stepped back into the bathroom. She pulled the pocket door closed, cringing as the wheels scraped in their track. She slid the flimsy lock into place and raced to the adjoining door. She pulled on the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. The door was stuck in the pocket, hung up on something in the track. Her mouth dry, she crossed her sister’s darkened room, tripping on a pair of discarded shoes. Instinctively, she folded in pain, biting back a yelp. When did her sister get this messy? She limped to the bedroom door, closed it and pressed the lock, knowing full well a bobby pin or one swift kick could bust it open. But she prayed it would buy her some time. Well, praying wasn’t exactly the right word.

  Grabbing her jeans from the side of the tub where she had discarded them in her exhaustion, she rifled through the pockets for Patrick’s business card. She never expected to be dialing the number. Certainly not hours after he had g
iven it to her. But now she was grateful to have his cell-phone number in hand. She punched in the digits with shaky fingers.

  He answered on the second ring. “Kingsley.” His voice was husky with sleep. Suddenly doubt crept into her mind. A buzzing filled her ears, punctuated by a drip from the sink. Maybe the sounds had been nothing more than an old house settling in the night, the tree branches scraping against the siding.

  “Kingsley,” he repeated, his voice urgent this time.

  “Patrick,” she whispered, her voice sounding loud to her ears, echoing in the quiet confines of the bathroom, “I think someone’s in the house.”

  “Who is this?”

  “Danielle. Danielle Carson.” Her heart dropped. Why had she expected him to recognize her voice?

  The house stood silent. Another drip fell from the faucet. Heat flared in her cheeks. Had she overreacted to a thump in the night? Had she subconsciously sought a reason to call Patrick? No, that wasn’t like her. A mental image of her cowering in the dark, a cell phone pressed to her ear, fear edging her voice floated into her mind. Humiliation stiffened her backbone.

  “Maybe I overreacted—” The sound of breaking glass cut her short.

  Dread, like needles of ice shot through her veins. “Someone’s in the house. I just woke up. I don’t know…” Fear made her ramble. “I need you.” She hated the breathless quality of her voice.

  “Listen to me. Are you someplace safe?”

  “Locked in the upstairs bathroom.”

  “Stay put, I’ll be right there.” The line clicked.

  Danielle lowered herself onto the ledge of the bathtub and splayed her fingers against the cool porcelain. Hurry, hurry, hurry, she repeated over and over in her head. She had never felt more alone in her life.

  A new jolt of fear made her jump to her feet. Gram. She crept toward the door, fingers on the handle, frozen with indecision. Her grandmother slept in the bedroom across the hall. She couldn’t leave her there unprotected. With trembling fingers, she flipped the lock on the bathroom door and pulled it open. The subtle rumble of the pocket door in its track made her pause. A cold draft whispered across her neck, sending a chill down her spine.