Vanishing Act by Liz Johnson Page A

there a connection between Nate and her sudden fears about her past? Was his presence bringing her nightmares to life?
    No. Definitively not.
    His eyes weren’t cruel. His hand around her arm offered support not domination. He wasn’t a threat. She knew it in her gut.
    And she was equally confident that she could handle the danger that she instinctively knew was at hand. She’d be fine on her own.
    Gently pulling her arm from his grip, she stepped to the side and took a deep breath. Even if he wasn’t a danger to her, she needed her own space.
    â€œAre you sure you’re okay?” His face showed concern.
    â€œYes. I’m fine, thanks. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”
    He nodded as she walked past him headed toward the next car in need of service.
    Â 
    Danielle’s hands shook violently as she sat behind the steering wheel of Andy’s work truck the next evening. She’d spent nearly half an hour trying to talk herself into riding her bike to the college again, but memories of the terrifying bike ride home just two nights before still made her queasy.
    Squeezing her fingers into a fist, she took control of her quaking nerves. She could handle this. There wasn’t anything out there in the fading sunlight that she needed to fear.
    That was true, but it didn’t remove the clouds covering the sun or the lack of any other people in the vicinity. She was going to have to get out of the truck’s cab and walk two hundred yards to the auto shop building regardless of her unease. Taking several deep breaths, she steeled herself for the moment of opening the truck door.
    She was stronger than this. And she knew it.
    Blowing out a hard breath, she wrapped both hands around the door handle and yanked it open. The telltale click of the door’s release rushed through her ears like the air being sucked out of an airplane. Inhaling sharply, she pushed the door open with her foot and grabbed her book bag as she stepped onto the asphalt.
    A brisk wind chafed her cheeks as she locked, then closed the door. Immediately moving toward her destination, she didn’t see the figure until his hand clasped on her arm.
    And she didn’t know how loudly she could scream until the sound echoed off the buildings and dissipated into the twilight sky.

FOUR
    A s Nate rounded the corner into the parking lot on two wheels, he spied a scene that didn’t make sense in his mind: Danielle backed up against her truck and a looming figure in front of her.
    He’d been running late because he’d checked out three local bike shops to see if anyone working there might know Nora. Now he floored his accelerator to get to Danielle’s side as soon as possible.
    His headlights illuminated the scene in front of him. A terrified Danielle slid along the side of the garage’s truck, obviously trying to get away from the man in front of her. But her efforts were futile because the intruder moved in time with her, never letting her step free.
    The headlights of Nate’s car washed out her complexion, but he thought she looked paler than she should. When she saw his car, her eyes found his. He doubted that she could see him in the darkness, but he had no problem seeing her and the broad shoulders of the man blocking her escape.
    Whipping into a tiny parking spot, he killed the engine, practically leaped from the car as his door nicked his neighbor’s vehicle. Keeping his face firm as he strode toward the pair, he didn’t let his true concern show. This wasn’t like walking into an assignment he understood. His mind reallyshould be on the case, but there was no way he could let Danielle be hurt right in front of him. He rubbed his bicep over his side, reassuring himself with the feel of the butt of his gun in his shoulder holster. Whatever was to come, he was prepared.
    The other man turned around, probably at the sound of Nate’s clomping boots.
    â€œNate!” Danielle