Assumed Identity(20)
The detective offered her a curt nod before following his partner and the CSI out the back door.
Chapter Four
Forty minutes later, Robin shut off the lights in the empty shop and turned, breathing in the familiar scents of freesia, gardenias and chemical preservatives. Guided by the lights inside the refrigerated display case opposite the front counter, she opened a glass door and pulled out a lavender gladiolus that was sagging over the edge of its pot.
She looked at the broken stem in her hand, recognizing the tidying up for the stall tactic it was. With a groan of disgust at her seeming inability to function with any sense of urgency, she tossed the wilted flower into the trash and headed to her office. “Get out of here, Robin,” she chided herself.
There was no reason for her to be afraid to leave. KCPD felt confident enough in the security of her building that they had all gone. There was no more ambulance in the parking lot, no cadre of reporters waiting on the sidewalk for a glimpse of the Rose Red Rapist’s latest alleged “victim,” no reason to be fearful inside the business where she’d spent so many happy, hardworking, successful hours of her life.
She crossed the lobby to check the front door again, even though it had never been unlocked since she’d closed it at nine. Bolted tight. Alarm sensors on.
She could relax her guard and leave now, right?
Only, there wasn’t a brain cell in her head or a bruised muscle on her body that seemed to be relaxing.
The rain outside was still coming down in buckets, although the thunder and lightning had finally eased their fury. An eerie sense of déjà vu washed over her. Not five hours ago, she’d stood in the same place, thinking of how the rain nourished her flowers and grass. Her biggest concerns had been a few lousy numbers and a daughter who wouldn’t sleep. She’d felt more confident—more naive, perhaps—the last time she’d stared out this window. Five hours ago, she’d mistakenly thought that a purposeful walk and a steel whistle would keep her and Emma safe.
Now she was more aware. More alert. More suspicious of the dangers that lay in wait for them out there in the night.
Raising her chin against the wary uncertainty she wasn’t used to feeling, Robin’s gaze tilted up to the row of windows over the Fairy Tale Bridal shop. Hope had turned a light on in the guest bedroom, no doubt as a courtesy for her late arrival. Robin’s mouth eased into a smile. She wasn’t alone. She didn’t have far to go to find warmth and welcome and a chance to regain the emotional equilibrium tonight’s attack had stolen from her.
The smile lingered on her lips as she let her gaze follow the line of windows to the end of the redbrick building. She nodded, telling herself she was reassured by the security camera and lights installed at the corner of Hope’s shop. Detective Montgomery had already requested any footage that might have recorded Robin’s attack. She could do this. She could be independent again. Like any other challenge she’d faced in her life, she’d refuse to let the fear defeat her.
Almost hyperaware of her surroundings now, on guard against any threat that might approach her or Emma again, Robin dropped her gaze down the sidewalk, past the row of cars parked there for the night, visually scoping out the path she’d take across the street. She followed the wooden, ivy-twined fence that framed the parking lot beside Hope’s shop. Gaining confidence with every moment of this silent pep talk, she looked into the emptiness of the alley beyond that fence and...her heart stopped.
“Lonergan.”
She breathed his name. Leaning closer to the window, she peered through the rain, fogging up the glass for a moment as she identified the ghost lurking in the shadows. Arms folded across that massive chest, leaning against the bricks at the edge of the alley across the street. Black T-shirt, broad shoulders, silver hair.
Icy blue eyes meeting hers.
“Lonergan!” she shouted, pulling away from the window. Recognition jump-started her focus out of that anxious lethargy. Purpose energized her steps.
Robin ran through the swinging doors into the hallway and dashed into her office where she grabbed her raincoat and purse. She stuffed Hope’s spare keys into the pocket of her jeans and ran through the workrooms. She never questioned the anticipation coursing through her, never wondered what propelled her out that thick steel door.
He’d stayed. He’d come back. He was still watching over her, protecting her.
She had to see him, had to thank him, had to find out his damned first name.