Deadline (Sandra Brown) by Sandra Brown Page B

presence known?”
    “I’m not sure.” He squinted at her thoughtfully. “But I’m glad you know.”
    “I’m sure you are. You can turn the lights on tonight instead of stumbling around in the dark.” He acknowledged the barb, but didn’t comment. “Did you see me searching the beach last night?” Before he could answer, she said, “Of course you did.” Then another thought occurred to her. “The lightbulb?”
    “I noticed that it was out. The back of your house was dark. I thought—”
    “Thank you for your concern.”
    “You’re welcome.”
    “And for my watch,” she said, although it galled her to thank him for anything. “It means a lot to me.”
    “Why?”
    She wasn’t about to answer a question that personal.
    Seeming to read her mind, he said, “Okay, if that one’s too tough, how about this one? How did you recognize me?” Holding her gaze, he took a step toward her. “You did, didn’t you?”
    She took a corresponding step back. “How would I have recognized you?”
    “I don’t know, but you did. If you hadn’t, I’d be writhing on the floor, temporarily blinded and choking. At the very least, you would have called the police and reported me as a stalker.”
    “You are a stalker.”
    “I know for certain that I’d never seen you until Wednesday afternoon when you took the witness stand. I was seated in the corner of the courtroom, back row. You never so much as glanced in that direction.”
    “I didn’t see you there.”
    “But…?”
    “I saw you after court was adjourned,” she admitted reluctantly. “To avoid the media storm, Mr. Jackson put me in an office on the third floor that overlooks the front of the courthouse. I was watching from the window while he addressed the reporters. You were standing at a distance, leaning against a signpost.”
    “You noticed me? From three stories up?”
    He shot her that grin again, and it was even more aggravating this time. “I took you for a homeless person. Unshaven. Shaggy hair. That’s why I recognized you when you stepped out of the bathroom. I almost wish I’d gone ahead and sprayed you. It would have served you right for tracking me here.” She looked at the canister of spray, then lowered her hand. “As it is, I’ll leave you with a warning. Do not approach me or my children. If you do, I’ll call the police after all.”
    When she turned to go, he said, “As long as you’re here, can I ask you a few questions?”
    “Didn’t you hear what I just said? No interviews. Ever.”
    “Strictly background stuff.”
    “No.”
    “The girl. Kin to you?” He hitched his chin toward the window, through which Stef and the boys could be seen playing a game with paddles and a ball.
    Amelia hesitated, but didn’t see a problem with answering him. “No relation. I hired her as a nanny for the summer.”
    “And the old man who was flying the kite?”
    “Family friend. He rents the house next door every summer. And that’s all you’re going to get from me.”
    She turned to go, but again he stopped her with a question. “What would be the harm in us having a nice, neighborly chat?”
    “During which you hope I’ll forget myself, let down my guard, and pour out my deepest, darkest secrets?”
    He arched one sun-bleached eyebrow. “You have deep, dark secrets?”
    “Good-bye.”
    Moving quickly, he planted himself between her and the door, but he also raised his hands again. “Look, I understand why you might not trust me.”
    “Oh, well, thanks for your understanding. Not that I care whether you understand me or not.” With disgust, she glanced at the photos. “Do you plan to publish those? Sell them to a tabloid?”
    He looked offended. “Of course not.”
    “Then why did you take them?”
    “So I could…”
    When he couldn’t come up with an explanation, she sidestepped him. Or tried. He moved to block her path. “Would you have talked to me if I’d walked up to you, looking like a homeless person, and