In the Shadow of Love by Annie Bruce

and settled her body.  When her eyes opened she was back to being the composed woman he had met earlier that day.  “I’m ready.”
    “Take your time,” his voice calm, reassuring, “as much as you need.”
    “I’m not sure where to start.”  The pain in her voice resonated and worked to undermine the composure she had just fought to regain.  It wasn’t unusual for victims to freeze up after a traumatic event.
    “I’ll just ask a few questions then.”  He paused long enough to give her time to recover her composure yet again but not long enough for her to second guess herself.
    “When did you first notice the man at the window?”
    “I’m not sure.”
    “Was it right before you called me?”
    “That’s when I saw him in person.”
    He kept his facial expression neutral.
    “What do you mean in person?  Have you been receiving threatening phone calls?”
    “No, nothing like that.  There was a suspicious car in the neighborhood earlier but I couldn’t see who was in it.”  She licked her lips.  “The windows were tinted.”
    He nodded in understanding.
    “But I did get part of the license plate.”
    He looked up just as she bolted off the couch and headed towards the kitchen, stopping suddenly at the entryway.
    He quickly closed the distance between them.  “Were you in here when you saw the car?”
    “Yes, the car was parked just beyond where the man was standing.”  Her voice struggled with the words as she pointed.
    His eyes followed the direction of her extended arm.  The full-length windows that met his gaze allowed a panoramic view of the winding street and the expanse of Maggie’s front and side yard.
    “What a beautiful view.”
    “Yes.”  Fear still punctuated her voice as she stood frozen in the doorway, arms folded across her chest.
    “Maggie,” he spoke quietly, gently.
    “Maggie!” A little stronger now.  Turning away from the windows her eyes met his as she lowered her arms to her side.
    “Maggie, you can’t let this man rob you of your life.”
    More tears.  “I know,” the words conflicted with her tone of resignation.
    Then suddenly, a look of fierce determination covered her face as she straightened and walked boldly into the kitchen.
     
     
    Maggie mustered all the courage she could find and crossed the tiled floor towards the kitchen counter where the paper with the partial plate number lay.  She hadn’t felt this emotional since her divorce.  Biting down on her lip she tasted blood, the pain catalyzing her resolve.  She was a survivor if nothing else.  Now she would have to be a fighter.
    Quickly turning to hand the detective the paper before she lost her nerve, she found herself dangerously close to his strong solid chest.  Pulling herself back she lost her footing and would have fallen if he hadn’t reached out to steady her.  She felt his strength and liked its effect on her.  It had been a long time since someone had steadied her.
    Their eyes met briefly but long enough for her to know that as long as he was here she’d be okay.
    He took the paper from her hand, their fingers touched, and an electrifying sensation arced between them.  Both struggled to put the obvious attraction aside.
    “This is good, Maggie.”  His voice broke through the awkwardness.  “This is very good.”
    His praise elated her, more than it probably should but right now it helped bolster her from the near emotional paralysis that was teetering back and forth in her mind.
    “I have to go call this in from my vehicle.”
    She straightened in response as her fear threatened to return.
    “I won’t be far away.  Why don’t you check on your sons and I’ll ring the door bell when I come back.  Lock everything up behind me.”
     
     
    Morris left Maggie standing in her kitchen.  He had to.   As fear washed over her beautiful features he was tempted to stay and comfort her, something that was too dangerous for him to explore right now.  Pausing outside he