Page 14

Chapter Fourteen

S eth craned his neck to see if Jetta had taken Bingley outside for his morning walk. He’d arrived home a few hours earlier, having slipped out of her mother’s room at the rehab center around six when the day shift brought more people to the floor. While he had slept a few hours on the hard floor, scenes from his childhood had made his rest less than peaceful. He tightened the laces on his running shoes.

Another glance out of the living room window showed Jetta emerging from her house with a leashed Bingley. He quickly pulled open his front door and jogged down the sidewalk. Bingley barked at his appearance, drawing his owner’s attention in the early morning light. Seth had been prepared to wait at least another hour before Jetta left her house, as seven was early for her.

“Seth, hi.” She tugged Bingley to a halt a few feet from him under a still-lit street light. Dark smudges under her eyes attested to her own restless night. “I didn’t expect to run into you.”

Bingley leaped about him as if the dog hadn’t seen Seth for days instead of mere hours. He focused on the dog instead of responding to her question. “Hey, boy. How are you?” He knelt to allow the dog to slobber kisses on him as he petted Bingley.

“You’re going for a run?”

He straightened. “Yes.”

She thrust the leash toward him. “Mind taking Bingley along with you?”

“Happy to.” He accepted the leash. “I’ll be about half an hour.”

“Sounds good.” She trudged back to her house.

He waited until she entered, then said to the dog, “Guess we’re going for a run.”

Bingley barked his agreement, and Seth started down the sidewalk, mentally mapping out a shorter route. He didn’t want to overly exert the dog, since Bingley was used to more leisurely walks with Jetta. As he jogged, the dog panting beside him, he prayed again for Jetta. Something was weighing her down, and he suspected it was more mental than physical.

Sweat dripped down his face as he rounded the corner to his block. He slowed his steps to catch his breath, not wanting to show up on Jetta’s doorstep breathing hard. When he came to his house, he decided to take Bingley inside for a water break before letting Jetta know they’d returned. “Come on, boy. Let’s get a little cleaned up before we see her, yeah?”

The dog simply panted as Seth led him up the walkway and into his house. He found a bowl suitable for water and filled it from the tap for Bingley. Then he drank a glass of water himself while the dog lapped from the bowl. Seth used one of his workout towels to mop the sweat from his face.

“Ready?”

The dog lifted his head and woofed as if replying yes. Seth grabbed the leash and headed next door. As they crossed Jetta’s driveway, Bingley growled, low and menacing, the sound raising the hairs on the back of Seth’s neck. The dog lunged toward the house, jerking the leash from Seth’s hand. “Bingley!” He darted after the canine, registering the open front door as he followed the dog inside.

Something wasn’t right.

Bingley raced upstairs, Seth several steps behind. The dog moved as if propelled by a cannon. Bingley disappeared through an open door at the end of the hallway into the primary bedroom. A cry, then a crash had Seth putting on a burst of speed into the room.

Bingley had a man wearing ballcap and a facemask cornered. The dog bared his teeth as he growled and barked at the intruder. Seth swept the room but found no sign of Jetta.

“Where is she?” He approached the man, who had a knife in his hand.

“If you don’t want this dog dead, call him off.” The cold tone informed Seth the man was serious.

“Where is she?” He repeated the question, standing with the bed between him and the intruder.

“Dog. Now.” The man brandished his weapon with the easy confidence of one who knew how to use it.

“Bingley, come.” Seth had no idea if the dog would obey or not.

The dog growled again, his head low and his teeth still bared.

Seth sharpened his tone. “Bingley, no. Come.” He decided to add what might make the dog obey. “Find Jetta.”

With one final growl, the dog whirled and dashed from the room, leaving the two men eyeing each other.

“What now?” Seth hadn’t moved from his place across the bed.

“Now I’m going to deliver the message.” The other man’s grin upped Seth’s heart rate considerably. This was no ordinary bulgar. This was a professional, one who enjoyed striking fear into his victims.

Seth crossed his arms, his biceps rippling. Might as well see if using his considerable muscle would intimidate the other man or merely make him mad.

Neither, as it turned out. “Tell your girlfriend and her mother to stop meddling.”

“Meddling in what, exactly?” Seth figured he knew, but clarifying would give Jetta time to call the cops if she hadn’t already.

The other man’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t play dumb with me.”

Seth shrugged but didn’t reply. The distant sound of sirens drew his attention—and the intruder’s.

“But since it appears I’m out of time, I’ll spell it out in words even someone with your brawn but not brains can understand. Lay off your harassment of Topher Robotics.”

“Or what?” Seth cocked his head, his calm demeanor a front as he digested the man’s words.

Without answering, the man moved toward the door, the knife still visible in his hand. Seth mirrored his steps, arriving at the door at the same time. He stared into the intruder’s hard eyes.

Bingley barked, the sound coming from downstairs. The man took advantage of Seth’s momentary distraction to slip through the door. Seth flew after him, pounding down the stairs. He caught the man’s arm on the threshold of the open front door, but he whipped around, knife gleaming, and sliced Seth’s bicep.

Pain exploded and Seth reflexively let go as blood spurted from the vertical gash across his upper arm. He gritted his teeth, his right hand covering the wound on his left arm. The man disappeared from view a few minutes before a police vehicle roared to a stop.

Bingley nudged his leg as he stood dripping blood in the entryway. Jetta! He stumbled as a feeling of lightheadedness washed over him. He wouldn’t pass out, not from a little blood loss. He had to stay strong and find Jetta.

“Halt! Police! Show me your hands.”

Seth stopped a few feet from the front door. “I’m injured in my left arm, but I don’t have any weapons.” Blood continued to drip onto the hardwood floor, giving his statement credence.

“Turn around slowly,” the male officer commanded.

Seth did. When he came face to face with the officer, he squinted, blinking sweat from his eyes. “Trevor?”

The officer frowned. “Seth? What are you doing here?”

Seth nodded toward the gun his Bible study mate still pointed at him. “Mind lowering your weapon?”

Another officer approached the house as sirens indicated more help had arrived. “Hawks, what you got?”

Falls Church Police Officer Trevor Hawks holstered his gun. “Not sure, but this man needs medical attention. He’s Seth Whitman, a photojournalist with The Herald .”

Seth breathed a prayer of thanks that the responding officer was a friend. “I’m fine, but Jetta Ainsley, the daughter of the home’s owner, is somewhere downstairs, and she might be hurt.”

Trevor stepped into the house. “You wait here and tell Fleetwood what happened.” He moved around Seth as the other officer came up to Seth.

Officer Fleetwood said, “The ambulance is here, so let’s get that arm looked at while you tell me what occurred here.”

Seth didn’t want to leave the house, not before finding out where Jetta was, but as another police vehicle pulled to a stop at the curb, he allowed himself to be guided to the ambulance. As an EMT cleaned his wound, Seth relayed what had happened, along with a description of the intruder and which direction he had gone after leaving the house.

By the time the EMT had bandaged the cut and directed him to see a doctor as he was certain it would need stitches, Seth could hardly stay still, the need to see Jetta racing through his veins. “Thanks.”

He bounded out of the back of the ambulance, swaying a bit as his feet hit the pavement, then he ran toward the house, shouldering his way past the officer at the door. “Jetta!”

Bingley woofed, directing him into the living room. Seth screeched to a halt in the doorway as another EMT crouched by Jetta’s side as she sat on the couch.

“Jetta.” He breathed out her name at seeing her. They hadn’t rushed her to the hospital, so perhaps that meant she and the baby were okay.

Jetta raised her head and met his gaze. The smudges under her eyes appeared more pronounced than they’d been less than an hour earlier. Bits of something black bracketed her mouth. “Seth.” Tears streamed down her cheeks as if seeing him released a dam inside her. Her eyes widened. “You’re hurt!”

“It’s nothing.” He weaved his way around Trevor talking to another cop to reach her, dropping onto the cushion at her side.

The EMT packed her bag. “Check in with your OB-GYN if you feel anything unusual with the baby.”

“Will do, thank you.” Jetta swiped tears from her cheeks with her fingers.

Seth handed her a tissue from a box decorated with fall leaves and pumpkins. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.” She used the tissue on her face. “It’s not. You could have been killed.”

Her concern for his wellbeing warmed his heart. Surely the fear in her eyes meant she cared for him more than a friend, but he’d tuck that away to exam later. Right now, he needed to know what had happened during his run with Bingley.

“Ms. Ainsley?” Trevor came over and stood by the mantel. “Do you feel up to telling me what happened?”

She reached for Seth’s hand, and he willingly gave it to her, noting the same black residue around her wrists, which had pink welts. The sight made him firm his lips to keep from blurting out his anger at the intruder, who must have bound her wrists and mouth with duct tape. If only he hadn’t gone for the run or hadn’t been vain enough to want to clean up a little before returning Bingley, she might have been spared this. Once again, his inability to think about someone else before himself had resulted in someone he cared about being hurt. It was a lesson he seemed doomed to repeat, but one he vowed he would master before something serious happened to Jetta.

* * *

Jetta gripped Seth’s hand as if it were a lifeline. And maybe it was because she couldn’t stop crying because of what that masked man had done. When he’d come up behind her while she washed the breakfast dishes, she hadn’t had time to scream before a piece of duct tape slapped across her mouth silenced her. Then he’d roughly shoved her onto a chair and duct taped her hands together in front of her before wrapping her ankles to the two front chair legs.

Terror had nearly made her pass out as images from her ex’s assault mixed with the morning’s attack. The masked man, his anonymous identity jacking her heart rate up even higher, had smiled when she’d peed her pants, her bladder no match for her willpower. The baby moved, rippling her stomach and reminding Jetta she had to hold it together for her little one’s sake. When the man had left her alone to search the house, if the sounds of doors opening and closing were any indication, she had prayed for Seth to come. But as the minutes dragged on, anxiety over what might happen when Seth did return had her frantic with worry.

Then she spotted the landline phone on the counter, a relict her mother insisted on keeping. The man had bound her hands in front of her, but her feet to the chair legs. If she could move close to the counter, she could grab the phone and call for help.

A crash above her told her the intruder was in one of the bedrooms. She wobbled the chair, rocking it enough to move it slowly across the floor. Once, she thought it would tip over, but her prayers were answered, and she stayed upright. Soon she had the phone and had dialed 911. Somehow, through the duct tape, she managed to convince the dispatcher it was an emergency. Bingley’s growl had alerted her to Seth’s return. As soon as the police officer had come into the kitchen and released her, she had insisted on changing out of her urine-soaked clothing before answering any questions. What she didn’t tell the cop was that she had no intention of discussing the incident until Seth was beside her. She needed his comforting presence to make it through the telling.

Now, holding his hand, she managed to get out the salient details of the attack.

“Once he had you secured, did he say anything?” The officer asked.

She’d forgotten his name, but he seemed to know Seth, which reassured her enough she could tell what happened. Now she frowned, struggling to recall the exact words he’d murmured in her ear. Her fear had sent blood rushing into her ears, making it difficult to hear what he was asking. That’s right, a question.

“He wanted to know where the papers were.” She was proud she remembered that much.

“What papers?”

Of course the cop would need to know specifics. “He didn’t say.” If he had, she would have gladly handed them over.

“I think it might be the papers you got in the mail,” Seth interjected. “He told me he was supposed to deliver a warning for us to back off our investigation into the embezzlement.”

The officer looked from Seth to Jetta. “I think you’d better start at the beginning.”

Four hours later, Jetta rubbed her wet hair with a towel. While she had showered already today, the need to wash away the man’s rough touch when he’d tied her up had driven her to take another one once the police had finished with forensics and their interviews. Because the man had worn gloves, she wasn’t surprised when the crime scene techs turned up nothing useful.

At her urging, Seth had gone to urgent care to get his arm looked at, since the EMT thought stitches might be necessary. He promised to return with soup from Panera, about all Jetta thought she could choke down. A call to her OB-GYN had reassured her that the baby should be fine, given she had only been tied up for a short period of time.

Seth’s revelation about the man’s warning shook her. Her mother’s desire to clear her father’s name had set off a chain of events no one had anticipated. Part of Jetta wanted to stop searching for the real embezzler, but another part—the louder voice—insisted that they had a right—no, a duty—to proceed because it was obvious Dad was innocent. Otherwise, why would someone care if they investigated or not? If Dad was guilty, then all they would find would be proof of his involvement.

Bingley’s bark alerted her that Seth must have returned.

“Jetta, it’s me.” His voice reassured her as did his intuition she would need to know who was in her house.

“I’ll be down in a second.” She swept her damp hair back into a ponytail, then went downstairs to find Seth unpacking containers on the counter. The scent of tomato basil soup triggered a growl from her stomach. Maybe she would be able to manage a bite or two after all.

Once the food had been laid out on the table, he said grace, then dug into his broccoli soup. They ate in silence. After a few bites, she pushed her container away. “What am I going to tell my mom?”

“The truth?” He spooned more soup into his mouth.

The way he said it sounded so simple. “She’ll be worried.” And I’ve already given her more than enough to worry about.

“Emily is tougher than you think.”

“You don’t know that.” Irritation crept into her tone.

“I know you’re scared.” His direct gaze, those amazing brown eyes seeing far too much, did little to quell her rising panic.

“Scared? You bet I’m scared. Someone broke into my house and assaulted me, all because I wanted to help my mom clear my dad’s name of something he didn’t do.”

“Do you want to quit looking for the embezzler?”

His question diffused some of her growing anxiety as she contemplated the answer. While she had only learned of the accusations, the unfairness of it pulsated throughout her body. The thought someone had gotten away with it all these years, had stressed her father into having a heart attack, made her angry. Despite her fear for her mother’s safety and the reminders of Kyle’s assault the morning’s attack had brought on, she did not want to stop. If she did, that meant the embezzler won again.

“No, I don’t.”

Her response brought a smile to his face. She grinned back, glad to have something to smile about after her terrifying morning. Impulsively, she touched his hand. “I’m glad you’re investigating with me. I wouldn’t be able to do this alone.”

He turned his hand over and intertwined his fingers with hers. She should pull back, lest he think she liked him more than a friend, but she couldn’t. Not when the feel of his hand gave her such comfort and, if she were being honest, a little thrill. Seth, with all of his obvious strength, never pushed her to accept more than she wanted to receive. To avoid making the same mistake meant she was wearing blinders when it came to Seth. His actions to her mother and to her these past months showed a caring Kyle had never possessed. If only she could convince herself Seth wouldn’t change like Kyle had.

“I’m glad to be of service.” He squeezed her fingers. “I should tell you where I was last night.”

She cocked her head, not sure where this was going. “Where were you?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I, um, spent the night in your mom’s room.”

“What?” She hadn’t been expecting that revelation.

“In a chair, or rather the floor.” He fumbled to explain. “I was worried about her safety, and I knew you were beat, so I thought…”

Gratitude for his thoughtfulness filled her entire being. “So you went over there to keep an eye on her.”

“Yes, and I’m glad I did because the officer assigned to keep watch left to respond to a massive traffic accident.”

“Thank you.” The words seemed inadequate, and she leaned across the table and brushed her lips against his cheek. “You’re one in a million, Seth Whitman.”

A blush stole up his neck and across his cheeks. A man who blushed yet made her feel safer than anyone she’d ever met might be a keeper, as her grandmother used to say. Time would tell whether he would be willing to raise another man’s child, if she decided to keep the baby.