certainly hadn’t asked him for anything, nothing but his affection and approval, neither one ever extended.
In the kitchen, she put a kettle of water on the stove, then assembled loose tea, cloves, and fresh lemon while keeping an ear tuned to the door. She dropped a few melon slices and crackers onto a small plate and settled uneasily on the sofa facing the window. The rain hadn’t let up, and she wondered what could possibly have sent Jordan headlong into it.
She doctored her fully steeped tea and had just returned to the sofa when three quick raps sounded at the door. Seeing Jordan through the peephole, she unlocked the door and flung it open. He was a soggy bear of a man filling the doorway in a bright yellow slicker that made him look like a school bus emerging from a car wash.
“Didn’t you see her?” he panted, lumbering through the doorway, dripping rainwater. “You almost ran into her.” He quickly closed and locked the door securely behind him.
“Who?” Cass asked, reaching for his slicker.
“The woman from the UN apartment, the one who stared at us from the door.” He shrugged out of the coat and gave it to Cass, who made no move to hang it up, her eyes fixed on Jordan as he swept a hand over his dangling wet hair. “I spotted her from my window, or I thought it was her. She was standing under the bakery awning across the street, looking up at the building, right at my window. If that really was her, how’d she know where I live?” Cass heard more irritation than alarm in his voice. “And why hunt me down? What’s up with those people? How do they know I wasn’t really looking for a friend’s apartment?” He finally took the slicker from Cass’s hand and headed for the bathroom. “This needs to hang over the tub.”
“Are you sure it was the same woman?” Cass called after him. “You only saw her for an instant, you said.”
“No, I’m not sure, especially through the rain. That’s why I took off after her. You’d just walked past her and crossed the street; then she left. I wanted to get close enough to be sure.”
“And then what?”
Jordan returned from the bathroom with a thick white towel around his neck, his hair squeeze dried and uncombed. “Well, I was going to slip up behind her and inject her with a homing pellet and … what do you mean, then what? What did you think I was going to do?” He mopped his face. “She was already gone, anyway.”
Cass didn’t respond. She was sorting through Hans’s words, searching for something. You don’t know who might come to that door or what they might be in the middle of . She closed her eyes. This was ridiculous! She refused to allow mistaken identity or her stepfather’s unfortunate choice of words to disrupt her peace. She’d worked too hard to achieve even a semblance of it.
Still, it was foolish to ignore what she knew was true. Hans had told her. Those people had run Jordan’s license plate number. They did know where he lived. Where she lived.
So what? They’re just a couple of paranoid oddballs . She headed for the kitchen. “Jordan, we’re going to have some hot tea and forget all about this silliness. Okay?” She felt his eyes on her as she lifted the kettle from the stove and poured more water inside. “Now, let’s talk about the trip to Washington.”
Chapter 10
A cab pulled up at the Juilliard School at Lincoln Center, and Liesl Bower stepped from the back seat, her hair tucked beneath a powder-blue woolen cap, a matching scarf coiled inside the lapels of a black pea coat. She tucked her head against the invasive cold and headed toward the front entrance of the venerable school. Throughout most of her celebrated career, she’d come to New York every few months to teach piano workshops and give a private concert for Julliard’s generous patrons. She’d always enjoyed her visits to the city until fifteen months ago when it tried to swallow her, when evil struck on a night street and chased her
In the kitchen, she put a kettle of water on the stove, then assembled loose tea, cloves, and fresh lemon while keeping an ear tuned to the door. She dropped a few melon slices and crackers onto a small plate and settled uneasily on the sofa facing the window. The rain hadn’t let up, and she wondered what could possibly have sent Jordan headlong into it.
She doctored her fully steeped tea and had just returned to the sofa when three quick raps sounded at the door. Seeing Jordan through the peephole, she unlocked the door and flung it open. He was a soggy bear of a man filling the doorway in a bright yellow slicker that made him look like a school bus emerging from a car wash.
“Didn’t you see her?” he panted, lumbering through the doorway, dripping rainwater. “You almost ran into her.” He quickly closed and locked the door securely behind him.
“Who?” Cass asked, reaching for his slicker.
“The woman from the UN apartment, the one who stared at us from the door.” He shrugged out of the coat and gave it to Cass, who made no move to hang it up, her eyes fixed on Jordan as he swept a hand over his dangling wet hair. “I spotted her from my window, or I thought it was her. She was standing under the bakery awning across the street, looking up at the building, right at my window. If that really was her, how’d she know where I live?” Cass heard more irritation than alarm in his voice. “And why hunt me down? What’s up with those people? How do they know I wasn’t really looking for a friend’s apartment?” He finally took the slicker from Cass’s hand and headed for the bathroom. “This needs to hang over the tub.”
“Are you sure it was the same woman?” Cass called after him. “You only saw her for an instant, you said.”
“No, I’m not sure, especially through the rain. That’s why I took off after her. You’d just walked past her and crossed the street; then she left. I wanted to get close enough to be sure.”
“And then what?”
Jordan returned from the bathroom with a thick white towel around his neck, his hair squeeze dried and uncombed. “Well, I was going to slip up behind her and inject her with a homing pellet and … what do you mean, then what? What did you think I was going to do?” He mopped his face. “She was already gone, anyway.”
Cass didn’t respond. She was sorting through Hans’s words, searching for something. You don’t know who might come to that door or what they might be in the middle of . She closed her eyes. This was ridiculous! She refused to allow mistaken identity or her stepfather’s unfortunate choice of words to disrupt her peace. She’d worked too hard to achieve even a semblance of it.
Still, it was foolish to ignore what she knew was true. Hans had told her. Those people had run Jordan’s license plate number. They did know where he lived. Where she lived.
So what? They’re just a couple of paranoid oddballs . She headed for the kitchen. “Jordan, we’re going to have some hot tea and forget all about this silliness. Okay?” She felt his eyes on her as she lifted the kettle from the stove and poured more water inside. “Now, let’s talk about the trip to Washington.”
Chapter 10
A cab pulled up at the Juilliard School at Lincoln Center, and Liesl Bower stepped from the back seat, her hair tucked beneath a powder-blue woolen cap, a matching scarf coiled inside the lapels of a black pea coat. She tucked her head against the invasive cold and headed toward the front entrance of the venerable school. Throughout most of her celebrated career, she’d come to New York every few months to teach piano workshops and give a private concert for Julliard’s generous patrons. She’d always enjoyed her visits to the city until fifteen months ago when it tried to swallow her, when evil struck on a night street and chased her
Similar Books
