The Seven-Day Target by Natalie Charles

on, just as he had.
    She reached for her cell phone and dialed her sister’s number. “I wanted to check up on you.” She paused when she heard a man’s voice in the background. “Who’s that?”
    “It’s Sergeant Vasquez. He’s going to escort me and Sam to a hotel.”
    “Good. Listen, I’m not going to keep you, but I’ll have my phone on me. You’ll call me if you need anything?”
    “Yes. You do the same.”
    Libby paused to blink back the tears that had started to sting her eyes again. She couldn’t believe that this was her life, that she was hiding in her ex-fiancé’s parents’ house and her sister and nephew were forced to hide in a hotel. “Cassie, I’m so sorry.”
    The line was quiet. Then Cassie’s voice came through softly. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Libby. You just be careful.”
    She swallowed her breath, trying to tamp down the ache in the center of her chest. “Give Sammy a kiss for me. Sleep well.” She disconnected the call.
    Libby slid the empty suitcase under the guest bed. Nick’s mom had decorated in flowery prints and lace. Frilly things hung along the bottom of the duvet in layers of fabric that resembled swirls of frosting. Little end tables were covered by long floral tablecloths and a layer of lace before being topped with matching brass lamps with floral shades. She found the decor sentimental and overwhelming and longed for her bed in her own simply decorated bedroom.
    She wandered into the kitchen, where Nick was typing on his BlackBerry. He was so preoccupied that he didn’t look up when she entered. Without a word he poured her a glass of water and went back to typing.
    That was fine with her if he didn’t want to talk, because she didn’t have anything to say. His kindness today had been a little too much for her to take. He’d assured her that he was only doing what he’d do for anyone by protecting her, but he must have an ulterior motive for taking a leave from work. Some self-serving motive. She couldn’t imagine suspending her own life like this without a damn good reason.
    He paused with the BlackBerry and she seized the opportunity. “You must be exhausted. You must have driven all night to get here.”
    He shook his head and turned back to his phone. “I came in for a long weekend. I left Thursday night and was supposed to have been back tonight.” His response was mumbled, spoken more to his BlackBerry than to her.
    “Oh? Visiting anyone?”
    She’d just been trying to make pleasant conversation, but he froze and looked at her with a gaze that reminded her of a cornered animal. “Some friends.” He dropped the answer and looked away again.
    Nonsense. Libby knew that look instantly. When you knew someone for twenty years, you got to recognize all of their tells: what they do when they’re lying, or angry, or jealous. Nick rarely looked the way he did now, but when he did, there was only one feeling behind it: guilt. Guilt, she supposed, that he’d been in town and hadn’t attended her father’s services. Well, he should feel guilty about that. He’d sat with her father at countless family dinners, and maybe they didn’t always see eye to eye, but he should have paid his final respects. If she was being honest, she’d found his absence offensive.
    Libby took a sip of her water. Perhaps Nick had his reasons, and what did any of it matter now? He’d taken a leave from work to be at her side; the least she could do was spare him a lecture on funeral etiquette.
    “Dad’s funeral was on Friday.” She sighed. “I don’t blame you for not attending. I know you had a difficult relationship with him.” She gripped her drinking glass between both hands. “Anyway, it’s okay with me that you weren’t there. You shouldn’t feel badly about it.”
    He’d put his BlackBerry away and was leaning against the counter. His short-sleeve T-shirt clung to the curves of his biceps. Yes, he’d definitely been working out more since they broke