behind? Not if the woman he loved was here, and that was exactly the case. He couldn’t leave Carrie—not if there was any way to salvage their relationship.
He kept one eye on the rearview mirror as he drove to work. One of the schemes he’d turned over in his mind during the restless night was getting a gun. Dave had urged him to acquire one when he went into the Witness Security Program—even offered to help—but Adam refused. He couldn’t bring himself to do it then, and he couldn’t do it now. Maybe there was another way.
Twice he started to call Carrie, twice he pulled his hand away from his cell phone as though it were a fiery coal. No, she said she’d call. All he could do was wait.
The law office smelled of smoke. A large piece of plywood covered the front window. The burned chairs were gone, an empty spot where their replacements would sit. Workmen were on their knees, removing the damaged section of carpet. Despite all that, Hartley and Evans, attorneys at law, were open for business. No matter what else might happen, the legal machine continued to grind.
Adam slogged through the day, one ear tuned to his cell phone, waiting for a ring announcing a call from Carrie. But there was nothing.
“Would you take these papers over to the District Clerk’s office? They need to be there by the end of business today.” Bruce Hartley tossed a manila envelope onto Adam’s desk. “Better hurry. They’re about to close.”
Adam looked at his watch. “I’m on my way. Then I’ll head home. See you tomorrow.” He shoved the envelope into his battered briefcase.
He was almost to the door when Bruce said, “By the way, was your girlfriend with you last night when someone lobbed that Molotov cocktail through the window?”
Adam paused with his hand on the knob. “Yes.” He’d learned long ago never to give more information than was required.
“No danger of her suing us, is there?”
“Nope. But thanks for your concern.”
Adam went out the door, leaving Bruce to decipher whether the last remark represented sarcasm or a sincere thanks. If I were back practicing law, I’d run rings around him in court .
During his short walk to the courthouse, Adam kept his head on a swivel. Every stranger was a potential threat. Each open window in the downtown area hid a sniper. Soon he was back at the building that housed the law offices of Hartley and Evans. Adam paused in the parking lot and scanned the rows of cars still there. Where was his car? Had it been stolen? Then it dawned on him. It was in the shop, getting a new windshield and having the damaged front seats repaired. He located his black Toyota Corolla rental and used the remote to unlock the doors.
He hadn’t heard from Carrie yet. Should he call her? No, he was determined to give her some time to process everything. In the meantime, he’d run some errands. If he hadn’t heard from her later this evening, maybe he’d call.
Adam was almost to the cleaners when he noticed that the blue SUV behind him looked familiar. Had it been sitting near his car in the parking lot when he left?
When Adam first entered the Witness Security Program, Dave had given him some rudimentary lessons on how to handle a tail. He put them into practice now, changing lanes, turning without signaling, jumping green lights and running through the last second of yellow lights. Finally, just before he was ready to take a short segment the wrong way on a one-waystreet, Adam looked in the rearview mirror and saw that he was clear.
He spotted a parking garage and wheeled sharply into it. The time dragged, but Adam forced himself to sit for ten minutes before he started the car and nosed back into traffic. It took him another five minutes of deke and dodge before he was certain he’d lost his tail . . . if there had been one in the first place.
Adam’s brain hadn’t been idle while he sat in hiding. He headed for the facility from which his rental car had come. Once there,
He kept one eye on the rearview mirror as he drove to work. One of the schemes he’d turned over in his mind during the restless night was getting a gun. Dave had urged him to acquire one when he went into the Witness Security Program—even offered to help—but Adam refused. He couldn’t bring himself to do it then, and he couldn’t do it now. Maybe there was another way.
Twice he started to call Carrie, twice he pulled his hand away from his cell phone as though it were a fiery coal. No, she said she’d call. All he could do was wait.
The law office smelled of smoke. A large piece of plywood covered the front window. The burned chairs were gone, an empty spot where their replacements would sit. Workmen were on their knees, removing the damaged section of carpet. Despite all that, Hartley and Evans, attorneys at law, were open for business. No matter what else might happen, the legal machine continued to grind.
Adam slogged through the day, one ear tuned to his cell phone, waiting for a ring announcing a call from Carrie. But there was nothing.
“Would you take these papers over to the District Clerk’s office? They need to be there by the end of business today.” Bruce Hartley tossed a manila envelope onto Adam’s desk. “Better hurry. They’re about to close.”
Adam looked at his watch. “I’m on my way. Then I’ll head home. See you tomorrow.” He shoved the envelope into his battered briefcase.
He was almost to the door when Bruce said, “By the way, was your girlfriend with you last night when someone lobbed that Molotov cocktail through the window?”
Adam paused with his hand on the knob. “Yes.” He’d learned long ago never to give more information than was required.
“No danger of her suing us, is there?”
“Nope. But thanks for your concern.”
Adam went out the door, leaving Bruce to decipher whether the last remark represented sarcasm or a sincere thanks. If I were back practicing law, I’d run rings around him in court .
During his short walk to the courthouse, Adam kept his head on a swivel. Every stranger was a potential threat. Each open window in the downtown area hid a sniper. Soon he was back at the building that housed the law offices of Hartley and Evans. Adam paused in the parking lot and scanned the rows of cars still there. Where was his car? Had it been stolen? Then it dawned on him. It was in the shop, getting a new windshield and having the damaged front seats repaired. He located his black Toyota Corolla rental and used the remote to unlock the doors.
He hadn’t heard from Carrie yet. Should he call her? No, he was determined to give her some time to process everything. In the meantime, he’d run some errands. If he hadn’t heard from her later this evening, maybe he’d call.
Adam was almost to the cleaners when he noticed that the blue SUV behind him looked familiar. Had it been sitting near his car in the parking lot when he left?
When Adam first entered the Witness Security Program, Dave had given him some rudimentary lessons on how to handle a tail. He put them into practice now, changing lanes, turning without signaling, jumping green lights and running through the last second of yellow lights. Finally, just before he was ready to take a short segment the wrong way on a one-waystreet, Adam looked in the rearview mirror and saw that he was clear.
He spotted a parking garage and wheeled sharply into it. The time dragged, but Adam forced himself to sit for ten minutes before he started the car and nosed back into traffic. It took him another five minutes of deke and dodge before he was certain he’d lost his tail . . . if there had been one in the first place.
Adam’s brain hadn’t been idle while he sat in hiding. He headed for the facility from which his rental car had come. Once there,
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