Deadly Competition

Behind him, he heard something crash to the floor that sounded suspiciously like the plate of cookies some neighbors had left on the kitchen table. He spun around and hurried to the kitchen with Mandy at his heels, to find Sarah staring at the shattered plate and broken cookies, her lower lip trembling. At least there isn’t any blood. Thank you, Lord, for that.

“I’m hungry, Uncle Clint,” Sarah whimpered. “I—” At the sight of a stranger, she fell silent and backed up.

Outside, Clint’s old black Lab, Barney, started to bark, belatedly realizing that someone had arrived. Then Molly, Sarah’s puppy, joined in.

Clint’s phone started to ring just as he hunkered down to pick up the shards of china. He glanced at the number on the screen and drew in a sharp breath. The Loomis Bank—and if it was the loan officer, the call was one he couldn’t afford to miss.

Cell phone in one hand, broken china in the other, Clint wavered.

“Go ahead,” Mandy said. “I can handle this.”

He frowned at Sarah, hesitating over leaving her in the company of a stranger while taking a call that needed to be private. Maybe Mandy was okay, and maybe not. But after Sarah’s outburst at the store this morning, she’d been tearful and clingy ever since.

“I’m not going anywhere with your broken dish or your daughter,” Mandy said dryly. “Go ahead. Consider this part of my interview.”

“I’ll just be outside.” Straightening, he sidestepped the mess and went out to the screened porch off the kitchen dining area, where he could still glance inside and keep an eye on things.

He was put on hold twice, finally talking to a second loan officer, then the vice president.

But as frustrating as it was to deal with the bankers, the scene inside his house was a different story. While he was on hold once again, Clint peered into the kitchen and discovered it was sparkling clean. Sarah sat at the table, having milk and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich—a menu item that was apparently an exact art, because he still couldn’t make them exactly right to please his little niece.

After that, Mandy and Sarah disappeared into the living room. Clint couldn’t see them through the kitchen window any longer, but he could hear Sarah giggle. The sound tugged at his heart until he could barely concentrate on his business call. How long had it been since he’d heard the child laugh? How long since she’d been happy and carefree?

When he finally came back into the house, the toys in the living room had been neatly put away. Mandy was curled up on the sofa, her hair gleaming like rich mahogany with ruby highlights in the soft, incandescent light of the table lamp. She was reading a story, and Sarah was sitting next to her—almost close enough to lean against her—looking at the pictures.

Another landmark, because Sarah had been terrified of all adult strangers ever since her mother left—especially if they had red hair.

“Wow.” He walked into the orderly room and settled on the love seat, wishing he had a camera in hand to photograph the two of them together, Sarah’s white-blond pigtails in such dramatic contrast to Mandy’s darker hair. “It’s great seeing the carpet again. This is amazing.”

Mandy looked at him over the top edge of the book, but kept reading until she reached “The End”—something else that impressed him. “Sarah first” had been his own mantra since January, and it needed to be any babysitter’s as well.

“Sarah is a really good helper,” Mandy announced gravely. “And she’s a good eater, too. She ate a whole peanut butter sandwich while you were on the phone.”

Clint felt the heavy weight on his chest start to lighten. Sarah was watching Mandy with a rapt expression, instead of the wariness she usually exhibited around strangers.

Mandy had certainly shown her abilities, and she radiated a gentle wholesomeness that could make her the perfect nanny. Did he dare take a chance?

“What brought you to Loomis?”

Mandy stiffened almost imperceptibly. “I decided to do some traveling after a relationship didn’t work out. Just needed a change of scenery, I guess.”

“Where are you from?”

“I don’t really have a home state. We moved every few years while I was growing up,” she said with a vague wave of her hand. “Since then, I’ve done the same. I enjoy trying new places.”

“College?”

“Started twice. The second time, I got within a semester of graduating in education.”

“Do you have references?”

“Y-yes, I do.”

Was that a flicker of hesitation? “You’ve got them with you?”

Handing Sarah the storybook, Mandy retrieved a backpack that she’d left at the front door. She withdrew several folded documents and handed them over. “I…had some childcare experience with the Reynolds family, but they’re in the midst of a cross-country move right now. The other two are personal references.”

He flipped through the papers, then studied her for a long moment, wondering if she’d intentionally skated past his questions about her background or if it was just his imagination.

Perhaps she was just nervous, coming into a strange town, being in a stranger’s home. Maybe any prudent young woman on her own would feel the same. Still…

“Before I can consider hiring you, I’d need to follow up on your references.” Did her gaze waver at that, or was it just the light?

“You won’t find anything wrong, I can promise you.”

He glanced at the clock on the mantel. He was due at the office soon, and he already knew Sarah wasn’t going to be cooperative during the long meeting ahead. “The fact that Nonnie loaned you her truck is a personal reference in itself. She’s a pretty tough old bird, and she doesn’t take guff from anyone. You must have made quite an impression.”

A glimmer of hope shone in Mandy’s eyes.

“I’ll tell you what. Wait right here while I do some checking. If everything seems square, we can have a one-week trial to make sure both of us are satisfied. Deal?”

“Deal.” The relief in her voice was palpable. “The…the job still comes with lodging?”

“An efficiency apartment over the garage. It isn’t fancy, but it’s clean, quiet and private. We’re on the edge of town, so there’s a long walk to downtown shopping. You could use one of my vehicles whenever necessary. If you get the job, that is.”

“Perfect,” she breathed.

“And I need to explain…” He hesitated, with Sarah in the room. “Honey, could you go get your favorite dolly, so you can show it to Mandy?”

When the child obediently raced off to her room, he lowered his voice. “Sarah is my niece. Her mother went missing in January, so she’s been having a hard time with that.”

“Nonnie mentioned that.” Mandy’s voice trailed off, the hint of worry unmistakable. “Is she…?”

“I believe my sister Leah was taken against her will, but that she’s still alive.” He hesitated over just how much to say. “Her husband was murdered two days before she disappeared, so Sarah is dealing with the loss of both parents.”

“The poor child.”

“Earl wasn’t a very loving father, but the double loss has been devastating for her. She doesn’t talk as much now, and has lost a lot of the happy exuberance you’d expect in a child her age. Her grief is an issue you would be dealing with.”

“I…I’m so sorry about your loss. And hers.”

A woman traveling alone might hesitate to stay in Loomis if she knew the full story, but it was only fair to tell her the truth. “This is a peaceful, quiet town, usually. But there were two other murders in January.”

“That’s what Nonnie said. She…” Mandy hesitated. “She said the killer hasn’t been found.”

Clint sighed heavily. “Some folks think my sister Leah was responsible, but she’s a wonderful, caring mother, and she has strong faith in the Lord. There’s no way she could’ve killed her husband or anyone else.”

“O-of course.”

“And something else…” He cleared his throat. “There was a kidnapping attempt on Sarah in January as well, but that man is in jail. The woman who hired him was Angelina Loring, one of the murder victims. Neither of them poses a threat to Sarah any longer, but I’m very careful about watching her. There’s still a killer on the loose who might think she knows too much.”

Mandy blinked.

“I’m not trying to scare you off, but you’d hear all of this around town anyway.” He felt his sudden tension ease when she didn’t race out the door. “If you’re still game, we could have a one-week trial.”

“I’d like that,” Mandy said, noticing for the first time how ruggedly handsome—but definitely burdened—her new employer was.

“Sarah’s safety and care will be your priority, but the job also entails some cooking and light housework. If it doesn’t work out for some reason, either of us can end the arrangement with no questions asked.”

“Understood.” A faint glimmer of a smile tilted the corners of Mandy’s mouth.

Doubtful as he’d been at first, now he hoped everything in her background would check out. Sarah apparently accepted her. And if he didn’t get back to his construction business full-time, it would go belly-up. Then where would he be? With a little girl to take care of, plus his efforts to find Leah, he needed childcare help more than ever.

But though his heart told him Mandy was a decent, well-bred young woman, his gut instinct told him that she was in trouble—or had caused some—and that she hadn’t been entirely truthful. There was no way he’d take chances with his sister’s only child.

Back in his home office, he looked her up on a Web site offering background checks for nineteen-ninety-five.

Oddly enough, there was absolutely nothing on her—just the name, but no past phone numbers, no previous street address. It was as if she simply appeared out of the blue. So he called his cousin, a deputy with the county sheriff’s department, and asked him to run a quick background check to see if she’d ever been in the legal system. Again, nothing turned up—not even a parking ticket. Her two references were highly enthused, though they were probably close friends of hers.

So far, so good. But he’d definitely keep a close eye on the attractive Mandy Erick.

Nonnie had said Clint was a cautious, intelligent man who took his responsibilities seriously and never let anyone down. She’d added that Mandy should take care to mind her heart, because he was the town’s answer to Pierce Brosnan—a man whose quiet humor and tanned, movie-star face had been drawing young gals since he was a teenager, though he had yet to settle down.

Meeting him had only confirmed Nonnie’s words.

Tall, muscular and definitely masculine, he looked like he could take on anything that came his way, though he also seemed like a man who would use his intellect and reason before muscle…and that drew her more than any handsome face.

Mandy had seen him carefully analyze her, his soulful, dark eyes watching her intently as he asked questions and measured her answers. The strong, sculpted lines of his face and that firm jaw suggested that he wouldn’t hesitate to challenge her on anything she said.

While completing her interview and awaiting his decision, Mandy had been a bundle of anxiety. The miracle was that she seemed to have passed muster—at least for now—and when he offered her the job, her knees had almost gone weak with relief.

She could already sense that he’d be a good man to have in her corner, if anything from her past happened to catch up with her.

Not that she’d dare depend on him.

Images of her ex-boyfriend flashed through Mandy’s thoughts. Dean had been so very helpful. So very supportive after the death of her father. It had been all too easy to fall for his blond, muscular good looks and calculated charm. She’d failed to see his dark side until it was almost too late.

The too-tight grip on her arm.

The faint hint of leashed menace in his voice.

The descent into obsession and control.

He’d once laughed it off in front of his buddies, saying he was “protecting” her. That she was still distraught and confused over the loss of her father, that he was only taking good care of her, but Mandy knew differently.

The day she came home late after a flat tire on an isolated road, he’d flown into rage. She was never, ever to fail to let him know where she was at all times, he’d snarled. And when she retorted that she was leaving him, he’d slammed her into the wall and threatened to do worse, saying he would never let her go.

The next day, she found her beloved cat dead on the front porch…and Mandy began planning her escape.

She’d learned her lesson well. Trust was a risky proposition, and she wouldn’t be placing much of it in Clint or anyone else while she was in Loomis.

She turned slowly as she took in the small apartment. Clean, warm and dry, it appeared to have a decent bed that would feel good after long nights in bus stations, all-night coffee shops and buses. It would be a safe refuge after far too many days on the run.

After studying a book on how a person could disappear, she’d set up a new identity, changing her name from Katherine Amanda Willis to Mandy Erick, taking her late mother’s maiden name. She had asked two trusted friends to vouch for her as personal references if she applied for jobs under that new name.

Another acquaintance, who apparently had some shady connections, had procured a new driver’s license and a Social Security card for her to use as identification if need be. She kept her real ones hidden in her suitcase, hoping Dean would eventually figure she wasn’t worth the bother and that she could leave her lies behind once she was far away.

Then she’d crisscrossed several states by bus, using only cash, and had changed her appearance twice, so now her blond hair was an ordinary brown.

No one from back home would think to look for her here. Still, she’d tucked a bus schedule in her purse, she would save every penny she could and she’d keep her bags packed.

If she even suspected that Dean was closing in on her, she’d be ready to run.

In the meantime, she’d just been handed a golden opportunity. How lucky was that? She leaned her forehead against the window, remembering her late father’s endless, harsh criticism of anything she ever did.

Maybe he hadn’t been wrong about her, because her life had sure been a series of failures so far.

“But this time, it’s going to be different,” she whispered into the silence of the apartment. This time, I’m getting it right.

Katherine was out there, somewhere. Running. Thinking she could hide.

But she’d been a fool to try. How could she ever imagine that she was smart enough to succeed?

He had the money. The perfect set of contacts to track her down. And she would have to surface, one of these days.

One swipe of a credit or debit card.

A single purchase of an airline ticket.

An application for a job.

The use of her insurance card at a walk-in clinic. Then he’d be on her faster than a hound on a rabbit. The comparison made him smile with satisfaction.

Dean clenched a fist so tight that his fingernails drew blood.

No one shamed him, ever. Not anymore.

A childhood filled with abuse and threats had instilled in him the absolute refusal to let anyone take advantage of him. The fact that he was now the laughingstock of his fellow cops over his runaway fiancée filled him with rage that grew hotter with every passing day. She’d not only disobeyed him but also fooled him with lies about her purported wealth before that.

He’d find her.

He’d haul her home.

And she would beg his forgiveness for the arrogant independence she was flaunting right now. But she didn’t deserve that forgiveness, and he was going to make sure she was sorry and obedient for the rest of her life.

He felt a deep surge of pleasure, envisioning her punishment. Imagining just how obedient she would be. How desperately she would wish she hadn’t made such a foolish mistake.

The phone in his kitchen rang. He caught it on the second ring, after checking the caller ID. It was Jess, a fellow deputy who owed him some big favors.

“Gotta lead.”

“Yeah?”

The other man laughed nervously. “Bus stop in Atlanta. A clerk saw the flyers we sent down there. Says he saw someone who looked like her, ’cept her hair was different. He doesn’t know which bus she got on, though.”

“Did you get his name? I might want to ask him some questions.”

Jess recited the name and phone number of the clerk, who was eagerly awaiting a reward he would never receive. “Uh…when you do find her, you aren’t gonna do anything crazy, right?”

“What do you think?”

“No, really, man—you gonna patch things up? Ms. Willis is one nice lady, and her daddy was real good to my family after our house fire. Real good.”

“I’ll make things right, don’t doubt that.” Smiling with satisfaction, Dean hung up the phone and stared out at the deepening twilight. His reflection looked back at him—powerful. Strong.

The face of a man who knew how to take charge.

“Don’t doubt it for a minute, Jess,” he said softly. “Things will be exactly right, once I catch up with her. And when I do, she won’t be running again.”

THREE

“So, how are things going?” Shelby Mason, head librarian at the Loomis Public Library and a longtime friend of Leah’s, made her way through the people visiting with each other outside the church and leaned over to give Sarah a quick hug. “I haven’t gotten to see you for a while!”

“I gotta nanny.” Sarah pointed a chubby finger at Mandy, who was standing at Clint’s side.

“As of last week.” Clint nodded and made the introductions between the two women, thankful for this sunny Sunday morning and the friends who had made the last four months bearable. “You’ve been a true blessing, Shelby, for all the times you’ve watched Sarah. I hope we won’t have to impose quite as often, now.”

“It was never an imposition.” She tucked her long, auburn hair behind her ear as she gently touched Sarah’s cheek. “We go way back, don’t we, sweetie? I got to hold you when you were just an hour old. But you’re a big girl, now. Do you like Sunday school?”

Sarah nodded emphatically and held up her collection of colorful papers. “I made pictures.”

“That’s great!” Shelby straightened and looked at Mandy. “So, is Clint a good boss, or is he driving you crazy?” She cocked her head when Mandy just offered a polite smile. “Ahhh…diplomacy is best. Someday, we’ll have to meet for coffee, and you can give me the real scoop.”

The rest of the congregation had spilled out the front doors of the church, and people were chatting in small groups nearby. Clint glanced around, and waited until Sarah and Mandy wandered a few yards away to inspect some dandelions. He lowered his voice. “Have you seen any more signs of Leah?”

“Only that glimpse I thought I caught of her in the shadows a few weeks ago, and I still don’t understand it. I just know it was her—but why would she run when I called her name? She should know I’d do anything to help her. It just doesn’t make sense.”

“No, it doesn’t. You’re her best friend. If she was in Loomis, why wouldn’t she contact you directly—or me? And why wouldn’t she come to see Sarah? She loves her daughter more than life itself.”

“Maybe she wanted to come home but heard about the warrant for her arrest and is too afraid.” Wrapping her arms around her waist, Shelby shivered. “I would be, if I knew the police thought I was a murderer…” Her voice trailed off and she looked away, tears shimmering in her eyes.

“Except we both know she never would’ve been capable of—” He caught his past tense and cleared his throat. “Maybe Earl wasn’t a good husband, but she wouldn’t have harmed him or anyone else. And as far as Dylan Renault, he died after she disappeared. She surely wouldn’t have any reason to sneak back into town to do something like that.”

At Shelby’s raised eyebrow, Clint flinched. Shelby was certain that Dylan had slipped a drug into Leah’s soft drink at a party and that the wealthy playboy had raped Leah. The very thought of it made Clint’s stomach pitch. But rape or not, Leah would never sink to murder.

“I still think there’s a possibility that Dylan was Sarah’s father, and given the circumstances, you have to admit it could be true.” Shelby linked her arm through Clint’s and drew him even farther from the others. “DNA testing could prove it either way. Sarah would never need to know what the blood sample was for.”

Clint sighed heavily, torn by the options that had been plaguing him for months. “I can’t go behind Leah’s back like that. It should be her choice.”

“Look, if DNA shows Earl was Sarah’s dad, there’d be no reason to think he went into a jealous rage over finding out that he wasn’t. There’d be no reason for Leah to resort to self-defense.” Shelby glanced across the lawn to where her fiancé Patrick was strolling in their direction with the minister, and lowered her voice. “And if Sarah wasn’t Dylan’s, why would Leah confront him after all this time—much less kill him?”

Their eyes met, and Clint knew he and Shelby were both thinking the same thing. Sarah had the exotic, almond-shaped green eyes and blond hair seen in some of the Renaults. Earl and Leah both had brown eyes and dark hair, so the chances were slim that Earl could’ve been the child’s biological father.

“I have to believe that when we find Leah and get her side of the story, we’ll be able to prove that she’s innocent—because she is. As for all the rest—” Clint splayed his hands. “I just have to trust that God is watching over her and that everything will work out for the best. It’s what I pray for every single day.”

Mandy hadn’t meant to eavesdrop yesterday after church. But the rest of the congregation had drifted away, and Clint’s deep voice had carried to where Mandy was helping Sarah string a daisy chain of fat, golden dandelions.

The tension in his stance and the agitation on Shelby’s face had been clear, too.

At first, Mandy thought the two might be romantically involved, because they’d stood so close, with Shelby touching his arm and looking up at him intently, but then a handsome man had joined them, brushed a kiss against her hair, and introduced himself as Patrick Rivers, Shelby’s fiancé.

Surprised at her own flicker of relief, Mandy had focused on the dandelions in her hand. The little sense of awareness she felt whenever Clint drew near meant nothing. She had no future here. It wouldn’t matter if he was dating, engaged or even married. It might be better if he was.

Right now on this Monday afternoon in Loomis, she couldn’t even imagine ever wanting to be involved with another man. If she’d been so utterly wrong about Dean, how could she ever trust her heart again?

It was ironic, learning that the mother of poor little Sarah was apparently on the run, just like Mandy herself—but it also gave her an odd sense of comfort. Would Clint be understanding if Mandy’s troubles suddenly caught up with her? Would he be willing to help?

He’d certainly been gracious and patient so far, with a good measure of humor thrown in, over the fact that she was an abominable cook with a lot to learn in the housekeeping department. And he certainly looked like a man who could handle anything that came his way. Even Dean.

Lost in her thoughts, she grimaced as she strolled down the sidewalk in downtown Loomis with Sarah’s small hand tucked safely in her own. She wouldn’t ask that of him. Not ever. A cold chill swept down her spine as she remembered Dean’s twisted expression and the loathing in his voice during their last fight.

She furtively surveyed the street, feeling exposed and vulnerable at being out in broad daylight, half-afraid he might appear. It was certainly a possibility.

Dean was a small-town cop, from a family of cops, with a couple of lawyers thrown into the mix. After her first 911 call, his relatives and buddies had closed ranks against her, accepting Dean’s claim that she had major depression over the loss of her father, that she was potentially suicidal and that she couldn’t be believed. That he’d taken her to the E.R. with those claims only supported his position.