Countdown. Heather Woodhaven

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      Rachel’s eyes locked on him. She raised her eyebrows and gave a subtle nod. James knew that look. His mom always did that when she wanted him to do something, say something. Problem was, half the time he had no idea what she’d expected.

      A small sigh escaped Rachel. “Why would they target the boys and then me?” She looked at James, but the question seemed directed at the officer.

      The cop shrugged. “I wish I could tell you definitively. I don’t know about the driver, but this man shows the signs of a crystal meth addiction.”

      “I thought so,” Rachel muttered.

      How had she known the signs? He made a mental note to ask her, but he needed to call Derrick immediately before things escalated. He’d never got to finish his call when he’d seen the man creep through her living room. The officer and Rachel seemed satisfied with their theory, but it still didn’t make sense to him.

      Even if one of the kidnappers was addicted to drugs, why would they target his kids and then Rachel? For money? He didn’t make enough to warrant attention. There were plenty more affluent parents in the area, and a hairdresser—even a very good one like Rachel—wouldn’t make a ton, either.

      The officer nodded at both of them. “Have a nice night.”

      James and Rachel watched the last police cruiser leave the cul-de-sac. Rachel exhaled. One arm cradled her ribs.

      “Are you okay? Do you need an ambulance?”

      “No, I’ll be fine. Only a little bruised up. I didn’t feel like I could breathe fully with that man and then the cops stomping around my house.”

      She shivered and hugged herself, but there wasn’t any breeze. The air remained still. Surely she wasn’t cold?

      She looked down at his bare feet. James shrugged, self-conscious. “I didn’t take the time to put my shoes back on when I saw the man in your house.”

      Rachel stepped closer to him. “I can’t thank you enough for stopping him.”

      His heart beat a little faster. Should he tell her his suspicions? If they came after her once, what was to stop them again? He’d inadvertently put a mark on her. He shook his head. “Don’t thank me. I’m not sure you’re safe here.”

      Rachel frowned and looked around for some clue to his statement. “What do you mean I’m not safe? You heard the officer. They got him. They have both of them.”

      “You told the police he said, ‘Let’s see how much your boyfriend loves you.’”

      Her cheeks flushed. “I don’t have a boyfriend,” she said. “And, like the officer said, the guy had to be on drugs or something. Nothing he said made sense.”

      James raked a hand through his curls. She didn’t understand the implication. “I hugged you.” His voice gruff, he turned to her. “Back there. I hugged you...twice. We held hands.”

      “We were praying. I was trying to be supportive.” Her eyes widened as she held both palms up.

      “The kids hugged you,” he continued, “while the kidnapper watched. We drove back together. Until Sunday, we had been driving together twice a week.”

      “About that—”

      “I...I think he was referring to me,” James said, trying to get to the point. “I’m afraid I put a target on you.”

      Rachel’s breath hitched, but she said nothing. She took a small step back, as if replaying his words in her mind. She frowned, her mouth dropped slightly.

      “I’m sorry. I have to get back.” He took a step toward her. “Put a bag together with the essentials—clothes, money, whatever you might need to leave for a few days. Meet me at my house, and I’ll take you wherever you want. I just don’t think you should stay here alone. Please.”

      Rachel blinked. “I...I don’t understand. They caught him.”

      James blew out a breath. He spent all day talking in computer codes. His communication skills were rusty at best, and he hated it. “I’ve already left the boys alone long enough.” He put his hands on her shoulders, and heat radiated up his arm. He stepped back immediately. “Grab your stuff, and I’ll give you a ride to somewhere safe. I’ll explain on the way. I promise. And if you still think I’m crazy, I’ll pay for you to take a cab back here.”

      She raised an eyebrow. “Is it possible you might be overreacting? They’ve caught both men now. He was probably after me because I could identify him, because I messed up their plan.” She placed a hand on the back of her neck. Her eyes widened as she looked up at James. “He said, ‘If I can’t take the kids, it seems you’ll do.’” Her gaze stayed on him, but it seemed she was staring into the void. She blinked rapidly and recognition crossed over her features. “Someone is trying to find leverage on you?” She flung a hand to the door. “Why not tell the cops your theory while they were here?”

      He blew out a long breath and raised both eyebrows as if accepting bad news. “Because it’s not a matter for them. It needs to stay with the NSA.”

      Her forehead crinkled. “The NSA?”

      “National Security Agency.” James didn’t have time to explain his career history. “I have a contact there that I need to reach before complicating matters by going to the police.”

      “James.” Her voice came out as a plea, soft yet powerful enough to make his stomach flip. “Are you sure?”

      He hung his head. “No.” He raised his eyes to meet hers. “But do you really want to take the risk I’m wrong? Please close your windows and lock your doors. Get your stuff, and we’ll talk at my place.”

      He turned and left the way he came—out the back door—before she could ask any more questions. He stepped onto the lush grass, grabbed the top of the fence and lifted himself up and over into his own yard.

      “You could’ve used the front door.” Her voice reached him through the open windows.

      “Close your windows and pack,” he hollered back. He slipped the keys out of his pants’ pocket, unlocked his back door and went inside.

      “Ethan? Caleb?”

      “Daddy, can we have pizza now?” Ethan’s voice filtered through the secret door.

      His shoulders dropped and he smiled. They seemed fine, but for how long? He ran downstairs to hug his boys and tell them it was time to leave.

       FOUR

      Rachel’s home, once a comfort, now seemed empty and full of shadows. Her heart raced. The cops were long gone. The neighborhood grew quiet with only the hum of nearby traffic wafting through the trees.

      The NSA? Maybe she didn’t know her neighbor as well as she thought. Did she really need to get out her suitcase? Could she ignore him and live with the possibility that he was right?

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