Hearts Divided (Cedar Cove #5.5)(37)

Jake stepped away from the small crowd, turning his head to speak into his earpiece.

“You ready over there, Ed?”

“Good to go, Sarge. Ready whenever you are.”

Jake nodded, waved a hand at Ed, visible across the expanse of bare pavement, and turned back to the observers.

“We’re ready, Kyle.” He joined the crowd and lifted the protective plastic guard from the black box. “It’s all yours.”

Normally Jake enjoyed this moment when he was able to indulge the ten-year-old child within an adult client and let him or her trigger the control to blow up a huge building. But today, he had difficulty concealing his impatience. He was booked on a 7:00 p.m. flight home to Seattle. With luck, by nine-thirty or ten o’clock he’d be back in his apartment.

Kyle set off the first round of explosives and the building’s upper stories imploded. Jake listened, counting the subsequent explosions as each charge detonated in sequence, further weakening the structure and allowing it to fold in on itself, collapsing to the ground with slow grace. Clouds of dust rose. Hiding a grin, Jake watched the well-dressed crowd scatter like chickens in a downpour as the wall of dust moved across the parking lot toward them.

He headed for his rented SUV. All he had left to finish in Vegas was a celebration dinner and drinks with the client and he could go home to Seattle.

The next day, Jake decided not to call Chloe after all. Instead, he phoned the florist and arranged to have flowers delivered with a note asking her to lunch—today, tomorrow or whenever she was free. He drove to the University of Washington just before noon and parked the Porsche, then he took a last look at the map he’d printed off the UW Web site and started across campus.

Liberty Hall was easy to find. Built in 1949 and dedicated to World War II veterans, the four-story brick building had majestic Norman arches and a bell tower. It housed faculty offices for the English Department. Jake paused at an information desk to inquire after Professor Abbott’s whereabouts. Then he followed the secretary’s directions down a wide hallway.

Halfway down the hall, a white nameplate with black lettering marked Chloe’s space. The door, its bottom half glossy dark wood with a wide mail slot and the top section opaque glass, stood slightly ajar. He rapped lightly on the doorjamb.

“Come in.”

He pushed the door wide and stepped across the threshold. The small office was neat and tidy, but crowded with a desk, two wooden guest chairs, a bookcase and a corner coatrack. Chloe stood next to the deep window embrasure across the room, where a vase held a lush spring bouquet.

“You got my flowers.”

“Yes, I did. Thank you—they’re beautiful.”

His mouth curved upward in response to the smile that warmed her face and lit her eyes. He’d have to remember she loved flowers, he thought. “Any chance you’re free for lunch? Today would be great, but I’ll come back tomorrow or the next day, if you’re busy.”

“Actually, I was planning on eating yogurt and a banana at my desk while I corrected papers. But the world’s best pizza is just across campus.” She walked to the desk, opened a drawer and took out a straw purse, then looked up at him. “Do you like pizza?”

“Love it.”

“Excellent.” She moved past him, waiting while he followed her and pulled the door closed. Then she locked the door.

They left the building, dodging students seated on the dozen steps outside the front door. A warm breeze carried the scent of water from Lake Washington, where the University’s rowing team practiced on the rippled lake surface, the white racing sculls skimming over the blue. Pink, white and red azaleas and rhododendrons made brilliant splashes of color against the background of green fir trees and the ivy that climbed brick-and-stone buildings.

“Gran said you’ve been working out of town?”

“Yes, in Vegas.” Jake slipped his sunglasses on, shielding his eyes.

“So that’s where you got the tan. I knew you couldn’t have been sunning yourself in Seattle, because until last week, most of our days have been rainy.” Amusement tinged her slightly husky voice. Jake glanced at Chloe to find her smiling.

“The Pacific Northwest’s version of liquid sunshine,” he commented.

“Exactly. Are you a native Northwesterner?”

“Born and raised on the Kitsap Peninsula. You?”

“I was born in Seattle. I’ve lived here all my life, except for a few years while my father taught at UC Berkeley.”

“Your father’s a professor, too?”

“He was—his field of study was mathematics. He passed away when I was six.” Chloe gestured across campus at the math and science buildings. “Abbott Library over there is named after him.”

“So you’re a third-generation UW professor. That makes you a legend here.”

Chloe laughed. “That’s true.” Her smile became a frown and she slowed, looking over her shoulder.

“Something wrong?”

She didn’t answer immediately, but he saw her shiver as she scanned the students on the sidewalk behind them.

“What is it?” Jake asked.

“Nothing. At least, nothing I can see.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve had this creepy feeling for the past few days—as if someone’s watching me. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear I’m being followed.”