LITMIR.BIZ

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come. She felt him. Heard him. His laugh loud in her head...

      She closed her eyes.

      The smash of metal against metal ricocheted through her body, slamming her teeth sharply together. Angela snapped her eyes wide-open.

      “No, no, no.”

      She’d hit the car in front, which was dutifully stopped at the traffic light.

      Snapping off her seat belt, she got out of the car, her body shaking. The car door of the person in front opened, and a guy built like a WWF wrestler emerged, his face a mask of rage. Panic shot through her and she instinctively took a step back when he came toward her.

      “What the hell are you doing, lady? Look at my freaking car.”

      She stared, her body numb, her mind whirling as she fought for composure. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking—”

      “Damn right you weren’t looking. Jesus Christ.”

      Taking another step back, Angela raised her hands. “Look, if you just give me a minute, I’ll take down your details. We can get this sorted out.”

      “Yeah, sure. Ring around insurance companies, making phone calls. Don’t give me that crap. Look at it.”

      The impatient blaring of horns started behind her and Angela’s eyes burned with unshed tears. Goddamn it. Didn’t this guy realize? Wasn’t it written all over her face that she couldn’t handle confrontation right now? Her gaze shot left and right. She needed to get out of there.

      “Hey, are you listening to me? I said I want cash. Now. I’m not waiting for any insurance company to pay out. You pay me now.”

      She stared at him. Her body wound tight. The sudden urge to sink to the ground and cover her head with her hands before the guy moved from angry to violent surged through her. It would only be a matter of seconds before he rained blows down on her and kicked her in the ribs. The same anger showed in his gaze that showed in Robert’s...

      “I said, are you listening to me.” He took another step closer.

      “Hey!”

      Angela snapped her head to the right. A redheaded woman marched between the cars toward them. She held one hand up toward the cars behind them and the other carried what looked like a badge. A police officer. A woman.

      She met the officer’s gaze. “I hit him. It’s my fault. I wasn’t looking.”

      The officer stared at her, seemingly oblivious to the hulk of a man towering above her. “Are you...” She shook her head and her expression instantly changed from surprise to irritation. She faced the guy Angela had hit. “Why don’t you take a few steps back, sir? If you want to intimidate a female, how about you make that female me?”

      The guy glared. “You think that badge scares me, lady? This isn’t a police matter. This is between me and her.” He nodded toward Angela.

      Instinctively Angela pulled back her shoulders. Her wavering strength had been nothing but a blip. She was fine. She was in control. Robert wasn’t there and she was as she’d been for the past two years. Strong. Capable. Independent. Nothing had changed. She tilted her chin.

      The cop fisted her hands on her hips. “It is a police matter when I have a line of cars waiting to get past an accident. An accident. Get it? Now I want you to take a seat in your vehicle and count to fifty. By then, you’ll be calm enough to talk to me in a way that doesn’t have me throwing your ass in jail for the night.”

      Admiration mixed with inadequacy furled in Angela’s stomach. The cop couldn’t have been any taller than five-eight or -nine but made Angela feel every inch of her five-six as insignificant. The woman was as fiery as the color of her hair. Inhaling a deep breath, she dragged back to the surface the inner strength she’d worked on since Robert’s incarceration.

      The man threw another glare at her and then the cop before cursing and heading for his car.

      The policewoman watched him until he slid into the seat and slammed the door. She turned and smiled. “Mind on other things when you rammed him, huh?”

      Angela forced a smile, unease rolling through her stomach at the knowing look etched in the cop’s eyes. Does she know who I am? Does she know I’m the woman who was beaten and raped? Who put her husband in prison and then ran for obscurity? “Something like that. I told him I’d take his details—”

      “Angela Taylor, right?”

      Angela met her gaze. “How did you know?”

      “I saw the paper. You’re the park manager.”

      “Right.” Angela swallowed. It was barely eleven in the morning and already the town’s detective inspector recognized her. Robert was coming whether she liked it or not.

      The cop cupped Angela’s elbow. “Come with me.”

      Angela stiffened. “Where?”

      Kindness shone softly in the cop’s eyes. Eyes that stupidly reminded her of Chris Forrester’s. “I want you to sit tight while I sort out Mr. ‘Big I Am,’ okay? Go and take a seat in your car. I’ll be with you in a few minutes.” She winked. “I won’t be long and then you and I can have a chat.”

      Before Angela could say another word, the DI walked behind Angela’s stalled car and seconds later vehicles slowly moved past. Angela walked to her car and got inside. “Then you and I can have a chat.”

      Defeat crawled over her shoulders and sat there heavy and unwelcome.

      * * *

      AN HOUR LATER Angela walked into her house. Her chat with Detective Inspector Catherine Garrett, nee Forrester, had left her in a numbed state of disbelief. What were the chances of her meeting Chris Forrester’s sister? Now she was in a bigger emotional mess than ever. Inspector Garrett was bound to tell Chris they’d spoken. Then what? Would he contact her? Not care one way or the other?

      She tossed her keys onto a side table by the door, her thoughts running at a hundred miles per hour. The one thing this had to mean is that Chris had no connection to Robert. Why would Robert enlist the help of a DI’s brother? Surely that would just be stupid and far too risky. The one thing Robert wasn’t was stupid, and risks were something he abhorred. His pursuit of her would be as gradual and as tormenting as his abuse.

      Softly, he’d approach her. Silently, he’d pursue her.

      Angela pulled back her shoulders. Her biggest defense was her in-depth knowledge of how Robert thought and analyzed before he struck. Whatever happened next, it was imperative she acted alone. The police would make the situation worse by assuming Robert’s actions incorrectly, as they had before, leaving her wide-open to danger.

      Nobody knew her ex-husband like she did.

      She walked through the house and out onto the balcony leading from the living room. Lucky enough to rent a place on the beach, she sat at the small bistro table and stared out toward the sea. All she could do now was hope and pray she’d misinterpreted the look in Chris Forrester’s eyes that betrayed an interest in her. She had no right involving him in her life. No right involving him in a potentially explosive situation if Robert saw the newspaper and decided to come and get her, as he’d threatened so many times in his letters.

      Even though DI Garrett hadn’t said as much, Angela could tell by the concern in the detective’s eyes and the occasional gentle touches to Angela’s arm that Chris had told his sister about her stupid, albeit terrified, admission about Robert killing her.

      Now not one but two people knew she was in Templeton hiding from her ex-husband. Tears stung her eyes and the view blurred. How could she have been careful for so long, only to blow everything? DI Garrett was most likely at the police station right now running a check on her.

      She’d discover Angela had been living there for two years. She’d read all about her court case, her history and her horrendous—and very publicized—marriage.

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