A year or two younger than her, Tom was a good guy, a construction worker with big dreams. And he believed in her dreams. Of course, right now her biggest dream was getting back to her safe life.
Was she in danger now? Were the men after her, or did they have her picture because they sought Shane? She and Shane had left the police station and run to a clothing store to buy him jeans. He’d scowled the entire time and had been quiet, lost in his own thoughts. Not sharing them with her and not providing any answers—just like old times. Once home, they’d both headed to bed.
Charming in a boyish way, Tom never hid his emotions from her.
Pressing her hand to her abdomen, she centered her thoughts and concentrated on breathing, allowing fear to slide away. For two years she’d taken meditation and yoga classes in an effort to stay calm. Maybe she should’ve been taking shooting lessons.
The knife she’d grabbed from the kitchen gleamed on her nightstand. The blade was big enough to cut through a twenty-pound turkey. Just in case the muggers returned—she wanted the weapon near.
The cell phone buzzed, and seeing Tom’s number come up, she answered it.
“There you are,” Tom said. “Sorry it’s so late. I can’t sleep.”
“Me either.” She and Tom often spoke late into the night, both too tired to sleep after a hard day’s work. Now, more than ever, she needed to talk. She needed to get the words out to someone she trusted. To someone who would understand and hopefully have insight into fixing everything.
She took a deep breath. “Remember when I crashed into you in the elevator a couple of months ago?”
Tom chuckled. “When we met? Yes. You were late for a meeting and tripped—and you apologized for being a mess.”
She had been a disaster, just having found out about the possible promotion. Tom, catching her attention with his shaggy hair and strong jawline, had quickly helped her right all the papers, telling her to take a deep breath. He’d also grinned and promised she wasn’t a mess.
Swallowing, she settled against the headboard. “I’m a mess again. You wouldn’t believe the night I’ve had.” Tom had become her confidant, and she couldn’t stop now. Taking a deep breath, she told him the entire story, starting with the phone call from the hospital. Tom had known about Shane from the beginning and had encouraged her to file the divorce papers without waiting for Shane’s input. Of course, Tom’s divorce had him miserable, so she hadn’t wanted to follow suit right away.
Dead silence met her when she wound down her story. Unease pricked the back of her neck. “Tom?”
He exhaled loudly. “Wow.” More quiet pounded between them. “I’m not sure what to say. I mean, this sounds like something from Law and Order—with amnesia, dead bodies, and your photo trampled in the mud at a crime scene. You know this isn’t good, right?” Concern animated his deep voice. A fridge closed at his end, echoing across the line. She could almost see him prowling through his half-finished house with the phone pressed to his ear. He lived in the finished part while he waited for the money to build the rest.
“I know it sounds unreal.” There was no rational way to explain why she let Shane sleep in the next room. “I wish I could explain.”
Tom sighed. “You don’t owe me an explanation. I understand you’re married and the ties that implies, even if you are seeking a divorce. And I sure as hell understand how a divorce can cut you down at the knees.” Tom had discovered his wife of three years was sleeping with their optometrist, a rich guy with a winter house in Belize. Of course, this happened just as Tom’s construction business had floundered and disappeared in the tough economic times. Very tough. He’d moved from Texas to Washington for a fresh start.
Emotion clogged Josie’s throat. Tom’s friendship had quickly become a rare anchor in her life, and she relied on him. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you.”
“Well, on that note, how about I tell you how much I can’t stand that your soon-to-be ex is sleeping in the next room?”
And that was why she counted on Tom. He told her the truth, sharing his feelings. Both good and bad. He trusted her to be strong enough to deal with anything. She allowed her shoulders to relax. “I know.”
“It’s incredibly difficult for me to make a move with a guy in your house.” Humor and a hint of seriousness echoed in his low tone. Chiefly humor.