The Reunion Mission (24 page)

The March sun warmed the air, and a spring breeze lifted her hair, revealing her scars. Annie quickly combed the tousled wisps back over her cheek with her fingers.

Tempted to thread his own fingers through the glossy strands, Jonah shoved his hands into his pockets. “They’re not that noticeable, you know. I don’t see why you cover them.”

Annie shot a startled look toward him.

He angled his head. “Besides, sexy as that side part is, it hides your best feature. You have beautiful eyes, Annie.”

She gaped at him for a moment as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. “Is this what you brought me out here for? Patronizing flattery?”

He jerked his shoulders back. “Patronizing? I’m not trying to insult you.”

She twisted her mouth into a dismissive frown. “What did you want to talk about? I have to get back to work.”

“Why were you surprised to see me here when you got to work? What happened this morning on your way in?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and shrugged a shoulder. “Nothing.”

But the nervous glint in her eyes betrayed her.

“The truth.”

She cocked her chin up, but the protest on her lips died when he narrowed a hard gaze on her. With a resigned sigh, she turned to watch the traffic on the side street. “I thought you were following me. When I left my apartment this morning, I thought I saw...”

He waited for her to finish, but she only shook her head. “It was probably just my imagination.” She slanted an irritated glance at him. “You’ve got me so paranoid about someone gunning for me because of that stolen money that I’m jumping at my own shadow.”

An uneasy tremor rippled through him. Instinct told him that whatever she’d sensed, whatever she’d seen had been no trick of her imagination.

“Just the same, I think I should drive you home tonight, bring you to work when you—”

“No.”

He reached for her arm, determined to make her understand the seriousness of the situation. “Annie, until I can be sure you’re safe—”

“I said no.” She wrenched free of his grip and took a big step back. “I’m not your responsibility, Jonah. I need to take care of myself.”

“Then meet me tonight for another self-defense lesson.”

Her shoulders drooped, and she shook her head. “I don’t think so. I—”

“Annie, think about it—you’ve only had one lesson, and already you’ve put something you learned to use.”

The corner of her mouth lifted, and she peeked up at him. “I surprised myself with that.”

“Why are you surprised? You’re a strong, capable woman. You can do anything you want if you apply yourself to it.”

She rolled her eyes. “You sound like Ginny.” Tipping her head, she met his eyes briefly. “She’s my counselor at the women’s center.”

The simple statement told Jonah a great deal. The Lagniappe Women’s Center counseled and aided women who’d been raped, abused or otherwise traumatized. This Ginny Annie referred to was likely responsible for helping Annie free herself from her abusive situation. A good ally to have in her corner. That Annie trusted him enough to confide having used the center’s resources was progress.

Jonah grinned. “I like Ginny already.”

Annie shifted her weight and sighed. “Look, I plan to buy a can of pepper spray on the way home tonight. I’ll be fine.”

“And what if someone really is following you? Pepper spray is a start, but to defend yourself from—”

“No!” She shuddered and raised both palms toward him. “Jonah, I appreciate your time yesterday and your concern for me, but... I just... I can’t...”

When she hesitated, he asked, “Is it me? Is it working with me in private that bothers you?”

Her expression answered him even though she didn’t. The awkward, apologetic look she gave him burrowed to his core. He’d suspected as much, should have known better.

“There’s an alternative. The local police department offers ongoing self-defense classes for women at the training center on Wood Street. They meet four days a week at 5:00 p.m.
The instructor is a woman. A police officer. The class is all women and teenaged girls.”

She bit her bottom lip and furrowed her brow as if considering his suggestion.

“It’s a good class. No charge. No commitment.”

The knit over her eyebrows deepened. “And you know all this because...?”

Jonah balked. If he told her the truth, that he served as the training aggressor for the class, would his participation be a deterrent because of her discomfort around him? In the class, he wore a full-body, padded suit including a helmet with a face mask so the women could practice the defensive strikes without injuring him. Annie didn’t have to ever learn he was involved in the class.

He opted for partial truth, hoping she’d forgive his sin of omission if she ever discovered his deception. “The lead instructor is a friend of mine. She told me about the class.”

Before Annie could answer, Susan appeared at the diner door. “Annie, we need you. Orders are backing up.”

“I have to go,” Annie murmured, brushing past him.

He caught her arm, felt her tremble at his touch. “Please think about it. Even if this business with the stolen money comes to nothing, you need to be able to protect yourself.”

She set her shoulders and gave him a tight nod. “I’ll think about it.”

Thinking was a start, but not really enough. He had to convince her to take the class. Her life could depend on it.

Chapter 8

A
nnie’s thoughts drifted to Jonah time and again throughout the day. She had to admit, even the little bit of information he’d given her last night about defending herself had been valuable. After weeks of being manhandled by Mr. Farrout, breaking his grip on her wrist this morning had been surprising. Exhilarating. Encouraging.

The idea of learning more from Jonah was tempting. But so was Jonah. Being around him at the diner, remembering how his defense demonstrations made her body hum and her knees weak, was difficult enough. She’d be crazy to purposely put herself in his proximity. In his arms. Alone. Even to learn self-defense, she couldn’t justify torturing herself with something so...

Annie wiped her hands on her apron and chewed her bottom lip. What was the right word?

Forbidden?
She certainly had no business taunting herself with a physical relationship that could never be. She had no room in her life for a man, and she didn’t do one-night stands.

Confusing?
Jonah’s fighting skills, his brute strength and size contradicted the compassionate concern he’d shown her and his gentleness when he’d touched her. So who was the real Jonah?

Intimidating?
More than her ever-present fear of physical violence, Jonah’s uncanny ability to read her, to guess her motivations, predict her responses and see through her excuses left Annie off balance.

“I wanted you to know I understood what you’d been through.”

Even Ginny didn’t claim to understand the turbulent emotions of Annie’s abusive marriage, the terror, the self-doubt and self-recrimination. But Ginny had been raised in a healthy family, had a loving marriage to a wonderful man.

Jonah claimed he had experience with abuse, had grown up with a violent father. Was it possible he did understand her and the pain of her past?

“Yoo-hoo. Anybody home?” Susan asked, waving a hand in front of Annie and bringing her out of her deep reverie. “Table six is ready for his bill.”

“Thanks.” Annie pushed the distracting thoughts of Jonah aside as she flipped through her order pad and presented the businessman at table six with his check and an apologetic smile. “Sorry for the delay. Can I get you anything else?”

His gaze traveled slowly down her body and back up, lingering on her chest. “That’s all today—” his focus shifted quickly to her name tag before he met her eyes “—Annie.” He put peculiar emphasis on her name, and as he slid out of his booth, his grin could be better characterized as a smirk.

Annie returned to the counter, gritting her teeth. “Why do the smarmy guys always sit at my tables?”

“Luck of the draw. But you don’t have a monopoly on scumbags.” Susan took a couple of plates from the order window and sent Annie a commiserating look. “Just yesterday, I had a guy in here
with his wife,
and he grabbed my ass.” She rolled her eyes and huffed in disgust as she carried the orders out to the dining room.

Annie did her best to shake off the heebie-jeebies the creepy businessman gave her and concentrate on her job the rest of the day. But thoughts of Jonah and his encouragement to take the self-defense class offered by the police department returned that afternoon when she left work.

On an impulse, Annie bypassed her bus stop and headed to the Lagniappe Women’s Center. The staff at the center, in particular her counselor, Ginny Sinclair, had been instrumental in helping her leave Walt sixteen months ago. Ginny and her husband, Riley, had risked their lives to save her and her children and had become dear friends of Annie’s. When Annie needed perspective, encouragement and straight answers, Ginny was always there for her.

Today, she needed a dose of Ginny’s honesty and understanding.

Annie smiled to the receptionist as she made her way to Ginny’s office door and knocked. Hearing Ginny call, “Come in,” Annie cracked the door open and peeked in.

Her blond-haired counselor cradled her phone to her ear but smiled broadly when Annie stepped into the office. She waved Annie to a chair and rocked forward in her seat. “Gotta go, babe. Annie just arrived. I will. Love you, too.”

Ginny sighed happily as she replaced the receiver, then lifted a glowing grin to Annie. “Riley says hi.”

Annie returned a smile. Ginny’s newlywed bliss was palpable, and Annie couldn’t be happier for her friends, though she experienced a pinch of envy for the contentment that radiated from Ginny’s eyes. Would she ever find that pure joy with a man or would Walt always cast a shadow over her?

Taking a chair opposite Ginny’s desk, she took a deep breath. “I know I don’t have an appointment, but I was hoping you had a couple minutes. Something’s happened.”

Ginny frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Annie explained about the attack in the alley and the stolen money, the possibility that the diner was the hub of illegal gambling and money laundering. “Jonah thinks I could be in danger. He wants me to take a self-defense class, and he—”

“Whoa.” Ginny held up her hand. “Back up a second. Jonah? Who is that?”

Annie glanced down at her lap where her hands fidgeted. “He’s a customer at the diner. A regular. He...followed me the night I was supposed to make that delivery, and he...defended me from the mugger. Probably saved my life.” She squeezed her eyes shut, picturing Jonah’s rugged face, his warm green eyes. Her stomach twirled and pirouetted dizzily, but, surprisingly, the sensation was not an unpleasant one. Instead, thoughts of Jonah stirred her pulse with the exhilaration of a carnival ride.

Annie huffed and forcibly tamped down the tingling reaction. She had no business indulging in any frivolous schoolgirl distraction when her job, her life, her children’s safety could well be in jeopardy. “Jonah...has made himself my guardian. He’s taken it upon himself to teach me to protect myself or see that I take a self-defense class. He wants to drive me to and from work, and he...”

When she paused, Ginny said, “He sounds like a good guy to have on your side. So why do I get the impression you are less than thrilled?”

“I didn’t ask for his help. Not that I don’t appreciate his assistance the night I was mugged, but I...I don’t want...”

Ginny leaned forward. “Spit it out. Don’t edit your true feelings.”

Annie took a deep breath. “I don’t want to need him. I don’t want to depend on him and get trapped in a relationship that’s bad for me again.”

Ginny picked up a pencil to doodle as she thought, a quirky habit Annie had grown familiar with in the past two years. “Is that where you think your association with him is headed? A romantic relationship?”

“I... No. I didn’t mean... I just...” Annie sighed. “I don’t know. I’m not looking for a relationship right now. Truly. But if I’m honest—”

Ginny raised a palm. “Honesty is the best policy...and all that jazz.”

“I find myself thinking about him a lot. And I feel...safer somehow when he’s around.” Annie sighed, then hurried to add, “But that’s the thing. I don’t want to reach a point where I only feel safe with him around, where I depend on him for...well, for
anything.
”

Ginny rubbed her chin, clearly weighing her response. “There’s a difference between being emotionally secure and self-reliant, and isolating yourself out of fear. Don’t be too quick to cut yourself off from people, Annie. We all need other people in our lives sometimes.”

Ginny’s gaze drifted to the wedding portrait on her desk, and the corner of her mouth lifted. “At its best, a loving relationship makes you a stronger, better person. The right man will complement you, not eclipse you. It’s about give and take, sharing and supporting each other. Being a team where both partners contribute the best of themselves.”

Annie stared at a knot in the hardwood floor of Ginny’s office. Had her marriage to Walt ever been a partnership where they complemented each other? From the beginning, Walt had taken the lead and made decisions about their future, their lifestyle, their finances. Annie had been left to follow...or be forced into compliance.

“I only just got my freedom back, my independence. Getting into another relationship now seems...” She fumbled for the right word.

“So don’t get into another relationship yet,” Ginny said. “That’s not what I’m telling you. Just don’t be afraid of building something special with a man because you’re afraid of losing yourself again. Because the right man will help you discover all your best qualities, will support you and let you shine. Just like you’ll do for him.” Ginny laced her fingers. “Stronger together. A team.”

Annie nodded, stashing the advice away to ruminate on later. “And the other stuff I mentioned? The mugging, the money laundering, the self-defense classes...what am I supposed to do with all that?”

Ginny stabbed her desk with her finger. “Take the class. Knowing how to protect yourself is always a good thing. As for the money laundering...I can call Libby Walters in the D.A.’s office if you want an official investigation opened.”

Annie shook her head. “No. Jonah doesn’t want to involve the local police yet. He’s afraid one of the players will get wise to his investigation and all his work will be lost.”

“But if there is something illegal and dangerous going on—”

Annie sat up straight, her mind made up. “Jonah is an ex-cop. I believe he knows what he’s doing.”

Somehow saying the words reassured her. She felt no hesitation defending Jonah’s handling of the investigation. What did that say about her deepest, truest feelings?

Ginny arched an eyebrow. “You’re sure? Because if you ever change your mind about this, you can call me, and I’ll have Libby look into—”

Annie gave a tight nod. “I’m sure.”

“And the mugging. How are you handling that? Any nightmares? Trouble sleeping? Issues you want to talk out?”

“I’ve had...a few flashbacks of Walt’s abuse.” Annie fingered the hem of her uniform skirt. “Especially seeing Jonah using his fists so effectively.” She paused and glanced up at Ginny. “Did I tell you Jonah spars as a hobby? He fights for fun. For exercise.”

Ginny scowled. “Has he given you reason to think he’ll turn that violence against you?”

“Not yet. In fact, like I mentioned, he’s encouraged me to learn self-defense.”

Relaxing in her chair again, Ginny absently scratched another doodle. “So...stay alert with him. Be watchful for signs he’s dangerous, but...give him a chance to prove his worth, too.” She glanced up, and her gaze invited a response. “What else has been happening?”

Gnawing her lip, Annie thought about the creepy sensation of being watched on her way to work. “Well, I get the feeling someone is following me when I come and go from the diner. But that could just be paranoia.”

“Just the same, be extra careful. Take Jonah up on his offer of a ride. Better safe than sorry, huh?”

A knock on Ginny’s door interrupted them, and the receptionist poked her head in. “Sally Hendridge is here when you’re ready.”

“Thanks, Helen.” Ginny rose from her chair and circled her desk.

Annie took the cue that the meeting was over and stood, as well, only to find herself drawn into Ginny’s friendly embrace.

“Take care of yourself, Annie. And give those sweet kiddos of yours a hug from their aunt Ginny.”

“I will.” Annie backed out of the hug and picked up her purse. While Ginny made her feel more optimistic, in general, her friend had also given her a great deal to think about regarding Jonah.

Thinking in terms of a relationship with him was more than a little premature. Still, she reviewed everything Ginny had said as she left the women’s center and headed to the bus stop.

Like that morning, the sensation of being watched dogged her on her trip home. She checked behind her numerous times, but never spotted any one person she considered a threat. But then her stalker, if there was one, wouldn’t advertise his presence. Would he? Or was it, as she’d suggested to Ginny, merely her imagination and paranoia at work?

She tried to discount the odd feeling, but the next morning as she made her way through the predawn darkness to open the diner, the sensation returned in full force.

Finding the entrance to the diner unlit only heightened her jitters. Perhaps she should follow Ginny’s advice and take Jonah up on his offer of a ride home. And she’d look into the Lagniappe P.D.’s class, if for no other reason than to calm the jangling nerves that made her commute to the diner and back home so tense.

Annie fumbled to key the front door lock but discovered it was already open. Odd.

Grumbling under her breath about Mr. Hardin’s multiple oversights in closing the restaurant the night before, Annie started a pot of coffee and headed to the kitchen to clock in and collect the cleaning supplies she’d need to prepare the restaurant for opening.

Instead, she found Hardin sprawled on the office floor in a puddle of blood.

* * *

When Jonah arrived for breakfast at Pop’s, a swarm of cops milled around the entrance and crime scene tape barred the gathering of reporters and curious onlookers from entering the diner. His heart rose to his throat as a black body bag was wheeled out by the coroner and loaded in a hearse.

Panic squeezed his chest, and he struggled to recall the waitresses’ work schedule he’d conned Susan into showing him, knowing Annie wouldn’t share her schedule willingly.

Friday.
Annie was slated to open the diner.

Dear God.

Adrenaline pumped through him, jangling his nerves. A cold sweat beaded on his lip as he searched the crowd for Annie’s face.

Years of experience with crime scenes that should have allowed him some professional distance vanished. When someone you cared about was involved, objectivity flew out the window.

He spotted Lydia and shoved through the horde of reporters and cameramen. Seizing Lydia’s arm, he spun her around. “What happened? Where’s Annie?”

The gray-haired woman scowled at him and fought his grip until recognition dawned on her face. “Oh, Mr. Devereaux, it’s you. I thought you were another vulture reporter trying to exploit this tragedy for ratings.”

She huffed indignantly and sent a scathing look down the sidewalk to the aforementioned scavengers.