Proof. Justine Davis

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      Then she set about searching the stable, both to make sure he’d left nothing behind and that he had done no damage. The horses began to nicker greetings, no doubt thinking she was there for morning feeding. She checked the stalls first, to make sure each animal was safe and unharmed. Then she went about the rest methodically, starting at one end of the building, intending to work to the other, from top to bottom. Then she stopped. Turned to look from the doorway across the stable.

      He was good, she thought. She’d seen that. Likely a pro. So where would he have gone to wait? Where would she have gone? She scanned the shadowy interior, gauging. After a moment she headed for the third stall on the right.

      It was empty. There was no feed and care regimen posted, so she assumed it had been vacant for a while, the straw inside waiting for a new occupant.

      He’d been very careful. But she knew. Not just because the empty stall was the most logical, but because there was the faintest of flat spots in the straw near the outer door. When she got there she covered her hand with her shirt and unlatched the top half of the Dutch door, knowing she’d come back to check it for prints, though she doubted there’d be any. Then she knew she was right, because without opening it any farther, she could see straight up the trail she had taken into the foothills.

      He’d watched from here. Patiently. Until the growing light had chased him away.

      What he would have done if she’d come back, she had no idea. Would he have attacked? Tried to kill her? He’d had a chance at that, so she didn’t think murder had been his intention. At least, not yet. But what could he have hoped to accomplish simply by watching?

      Contact? Had that been the goal? And if so, why? And why her?

      She had no idea and at this point was simply glad he hadn’t hurt the horses in any way. She hastened out of the stall, secured the doors once more, and continued her search. When she was satisfied that he’d left nothing behind—at least, nothing that she would be able to find without some equipment she didn’t have—she headed at a jog toward staff housing and the principal’s bungalow.

      This was not going to please Christine at all. Athena was her baby, she had dedicated herself to the school and its students completely, and she would take any threat to it very, very seriously.

      “I’m taking it pretty damned seriously myself,” Alex muttered aloud. “In fact, I’d have to say I’m downright ticked off.”

      Well, whoever he was, he probably hadn’t gotten what he wanted. And if he came back, he would soon learn it wasn’t smart to tick off a Cassandra.

      Chapter 4

      “You’re certain you’re all right?”

      “Of course,” Alex told her former principal. “He never got anywhere near me. Unfortunately, I didn’t get near him, either.”

      “Mmm,” Christine murmured. “And if he’d gone after someone or something else?”

      “I would have stopped him.” She frowned. “I should have just grabbed him while I had the chance. I would have found out what he was after.”

      “You said he was armed. You weren’t.”

      “Yes.” She turned to look at Christine head-on. “So?”

      Christine chuckled. “I wasn’t impugning your competency, Alex. Merely pointing out that in those circumstances, with an opponent you haven’t been able to assess, it’s wisest to leave hand-to-hand combat as a last resort.”

      “Well,” Alex groused, “at least we’d know who he was, or who sent him.”

      “We will,” Christine said. “Eventually.”

      “I want to know now.”

      “Remember that old Dutch proverb, Alexandra.”

      “Yeah, yeah, I know. A handful of patience is worth more than a bushel of brains. But somebody else said you had to have patience to learn patience.”

      Christine chuckled. “It was always your biggest challenge, wasn’t it?”

      “Isn’t it,” Alex corrected her wryly, acknowledging the lifelong battle it would probably be for her.

      “That you know it is still your challenge indicates you’re winning the fight,” Christine said, ever the wise mentor. “Of course, wandering around Athena at night isn’t exactly new to you, now is it? After all, you’re one of the few to actually see the Dark Angel.”

      Alex’s eyes widened and she sucked in a breath. Christine smiled at her.

      “Did you really think I didn’t know what you girls called him?”

      “I…we…”

      Alex fumbled to a halt, a little amazed at how embarrassing it was now, looking back over the years at that bit of adolescent romanticizing.

      “You were teenage girls,” Christine said soothingly. “It’s in the nature of the creature to romanticize something like that.”

      Alex’s mouth quirked. “I suppose. And it did seem wildly romantic to us back then, this tall, dark and handsome guy so desperate to find out what happened to his sister that he broke in here.”

      “He was that. For him to come back after the first time we caught him here, when he was just a boy, he had to be desperate.”

      “It was crazy that he thought Athena had something to do with her death. I don’t get that, his sister wasn’t even a student here. But it was still romantic. That we never knew his name, or who he really was, just made it more so.” Alex’s smile faded. “I hadn’t thought about him in years.”

      “Considering the celebrity seeing him made you, I’m surprised you could ever forget.”

      Alex’s smile returned then, but it was touched with a lingering sadness. “He did increase my cachet considerably. I wonder what ever happened to him?”

      Christine shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just glad we made the right decision in not prosecuting him for burglary. He never came back.”

      “It was just the desperation,” Alex said with a shrug. “People do crazy things when someone they love…”

      Her voice trailed off as she realized they were now in the same boat that young man had been in, over fifteen years ago. Were they crazy for believing there was more to Rainy’s death than what the officials believed? She didn’t think so. So, were they any different than he had been?

      “I guess I understand him better now,” she said, her voice softened by emotional pain.

      Christine smiled, a smile that was as pained as Alex’s voice had been. But her words were gentle, approving. “You’ve come a long way, Alex. All the Cassandras have. I’m so very proud of you all.”

      Alex saw the smile, saw the moisture in Christine’s eyes, and guessed she also had been thinking about the new presence of death here in this place they both loved.

      “We’ll СКАЧАТЬ