In the Shadow of Love Read online

  She looked in every direction, wondering when someone would step in to save her. No one stepped forward. Instead, the small group of strikers turned their backs and formed a human wall, blocking the altercation from view. The last to turn away was the striker who agreed with her dissenting opinion of the organized work stoppage only moments before.

  In contrast to the inexplicable trouble in which she usually found herself, she didn’t have to wonder how she got into this mess. She went looking for it.

  For weeks, she’d followed the rumors of a strike at the manufacturing plant across town, and now that the strike was a reality, something had to be done. Quitting her uncle’s newspaper, the Daily Chronicle, made her an ex-reporter, but she was still a patriot, and the country was still at war. Marcus Forrester owned this plant, and she was sure he was behind the strike. It fit right in with the investigative piece she’d started on the man when she thought he’d ordered her father’s death. She never did prove that, and it was ruled an accident, but she’d uncovered enough to know that his angelic philanthropist persona was a ruse. Instigating a strike in his own plant would tick the traitor box. Kathryn Hammond, his fake mistress, all but confirmed that he was a criminal, and Jenny wasn’t going to let it slide if she could do something about it. Reporter or not.

  She took the long way to the office for her shift, just to gauge the mood of the strike, and couldn’t resist stopping when she saw a lone striker off to the side, looking disgruntled at the whole situation. A group of women workers were barred from the plant by a sea of angry men, some carrying signs, some just waving their fists. Jenny hoped talking reasonably with the lone striker might make him receptive to her concerns. To her surprise, it did. He claimed the whole strike was started by a small group of bullies who intimidated the rest of the workers to join in, either out of fear or an irresistible mob mentality.

  She’d almost convinced the man that if he got enough of the workers together who felt like him, they could raise a united voice against the few reprobates, and this strike would be over, enabling machine parts that were desperately needed to roll off assembly lines again.

  Just as she came to the best part of her do it because the country needs you speech, the man’s eyes drifted over her shoulder, and fear replaced interest. Only then did she hear the gravel crunching under the head bully’s size eleven feet.

  “What’s goin’ on here, Charlie?” the large man asked with a suspicious scowl.

  “Nothin’, Butch. Just talkin’ to the pretty lady.”

  Jenny internally rolled her eyes. Butch. Seriously?

  “And what are you doin’ here, dolly?” Butch asked, turning his gaze on her.

  “None of your business,” she said, and turned her back on him.

  “Another uppity broad,” he said, spinning her around and grabbing her by the front of her shirt. The material ripped before a button gave out, and she winced as his nails dug into her chest.

  “Let go of me!” she screamed, as she tried to push against his shoulder. Her arms weren’t long enough to reach his body, so her hands wound up sliding ineffectively down his thick, sweaty forearms. She pulled at his wrist, but it felt like an immovable block of concrete. She struggled briefly, but his grin said he liked it, so she stopped. She couldn’t escape his grasp on her own, so she turned to the stunned striker by her side.

  “Help me!”

  He didn’t move. He shifted his wide eyes from her to the menacing hulk towering over them both.

  “Charlie!” she screamed, hoping his name would awaken the human part of him she hoped was lurking somewhere inside. His eyes snapped back to her, and she thought he was moving to help, but, instead, he looked up past the struggle in front of him and stepped back in reaction to a small group of men quickly approaching.

  Jenny nearly wilted in relief. No way Butch would hurt her in front of witnesses. She almost smiled in his face. It was the evil sneer that told her this wasn’t a rescue—not here, not with his men.

  Now was the time to panic. Where in the hell was Popeye and his can of spinach?

  She watched the men form their wall again and realized there was only one thing left to do—scream her brains out.

  “Hel—” The rest of the scream was cut off by a huge hand covering most of her face. In fact, it not only covered her mouth, it also covered her nose, and what little air she could inhale smelled like—ugh, she didn’t want to know. She began struggling again. When she began kicking, he thrust her backward against a truck, its door handle stabbing into her back. His fist felt like a hammer against her chest, and the more she struggled, the harder he pressed. The men surrounding them did nothing. She couldn’t breathe. Panic turned to hysteria, and she pulled helplessly at the hand covering her face. Her eyes filled with tears, pleading for him to at least let her breathe. Did he know she couldn’t breathe? The sick pleasure in his eyes told her he did. The phrase curiosity killed the cat never seemed more appropriate. She was sorry she ever convinced herself that two miles out of her way wasn’t that far off the route to the office.

  The ringing in her ears grew louder, and she felt lightheaded. Passing out in this mob was the last thing she wanted to do, but on the other hand, maybe he would let her go and she could at least breathe. She feigned passing out moments before she actually would have and heard a dull thud followed by a choked groan. She wasn’t sure if it came from her own throat, as the hand over her face disappeared and she hit the ground, or Butch, who she realized was suddenly doubled over, with a long arm growing out from his crotch.

  Jenny blinked into the sun from her position on the ground and saw a silhouette of her savior, bathed in a halo of bright light. Singing angels would have made the vision perfect.

  “Get to my car!” came a stern command.

  She knew that voice.

  Kathryn Hammond had a viselike grip on Butch’s crotch from behind. He fell to his knees as his face turned purple.

  “You bitch …” he croaked through gritted teeth. He turned his head and stared at his own reflection in Kathryn’s sunglasses before succumbing to an even tighter grasp. He groaned in pain and flailed an arm in her direction, to no avail.

  Jenny looked to her right. The hostile crowd was moving in. One man was almost at Kathryn’s back, and she couldn’t even yell look out before Kathryn extended a leg straight into the man’s chest, sending him sprawling onto his backside in pain. Jenny wasn’t going to leave Kathryn to the wolves, so she looked around for something she could use as a weapon. Another man came crumbling to his knees in front of her from a flying elbow to his jaw.

  “The longer you stay here, the longer I have to hold these guys off,” Kathryn said. “Go!”

  Jenny scrambled to her feet as Kathryn released her hold on Butch. He hit the ground, hip to shoulder, with a thud and a slow, wheezing cough. “Y … you … you’ll … pay … for …”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Put it on my tab.”

  Kathryn raised her hands in defense, turning slowly, as more of the crowd pressed in. “Come on now, boys,” she said, cocking her head at the moaning bodies on the ground. “Is it really worth it?”

  Jenny sprinted to the car a few yards away while keeping an eye on Kathryn, who seemed to have the situation well in hand. The men stopped moving in and took stock of the situation. Jenny brought the car to a skidding halt a few feet away, sending dust and gravel billowing into the air. She flung the driver’s door open and slid over to the passenger side in perfect synchronization to Kathryn’s feet-first dive into the driver’s seat.

  Kathryn hit the clutch and the gas at the same time, slamming the car into gear and spewing gravel into the faces of the angry crowd. She quickly turned the wheel, hand over hand, forcing the door shut of its own volition. She cursed under her breath as the car lost traction in the loose gravel, but the wheels finally found purchase on asphalt and they took off, tires squealing, at full speed down the road.

  Jenny had one hand on the dashboard and one hand clutching
the handle on the passenger side door as she stared wide-eyed and speechless out the windshield.

  Kathryn had a one-handed white-knuckled grasp on the steering wheel as she effortlessly shifted through the gears. “Are you all right?” she asked hurriedly, turning her attention to Jenny, then to the rearview mirror, then to the road ahead and back. “Are you all right?” she said with more urgency when Jenny didn’t answer.

  “Yes,” Jenny said hesitantly, then, “yes,” with more authority, as she looked down and removed her death grip on the door to hold her shirt closed. Her chest stung and was bleeding from Butch’s grasp, and her back was killing her, but she was alive, thanks to Kathryn. She looked her way. “Thank you.”

  Kathryn’s jaw was set, and her eyes behind her sunglasses shifted like a hawk on the hunt, seeing everything, as she scanned the road in front and in the rearview mirror behind them. Determination was pouring off in waves, and Jenny looked away, hoping that intensity was not going to turn into a lecture about her stupidity. No one had to tell her she’d screwed up.

  Kathryn made a final glance in the rearview mirror and pulled over. Jenny closed her eyes, bracing for whatever was coming. She heard Kathryn shift in her seat and felt her slide closer. Jenny opened her eyes to see a hand coming toward her, and she instinctively flinched, Butch’s paw still fresh in her memory.

  Kathryn quickly withdrew her hand. “Sorry.” She removed her sunglasses and tossed them on the dashboard as she drew an arm over the back of the seat. “You’re hurt,” she said, pointing at the blood-stained shirt.

  Jenny peeled her hand from the dashboard and covered her chest. “I’m fine.”

  “You’re bleeding. You’re not fine. Let me see.”

  Jenny looked at her hesitantly, aware of her aversion to blood, and tightened the grip on her shirt in a futile gesture of privacy. “Wouldn’t that be a bad idea?”

  “I’m too torqued off to pass out, believe me. Come on.” She moved closer. “Let me see.”

  Kathryn was all business, with a little impatience mixed with her concern, but not anger—not at her this time anyway. Jenny parted her shirt to Kathryn’s sympathetic hiss.

  “Son of a bitch,” she said.

  Butch’s nails had dug two short but significant gashes in the hollow between Jenny’s breasts, just above her bra line. Blood seeped from the uncovered cuts, and Kathryn quickly averted her eyes and pulled the shirt back over the wounds with an unsteady hand. “Okay. Let’s go clean that up.” She slid back to her side of the seat and retrieved her sunglasses.

  “It’s nothing,” Jenny said, as she pressed her fist into the wound to alleviate the stinging and stop the bleeding. “I’ve got to get to work.”

  Kathryn looked at her in disbelief, then turned her head and put her sunglasses on. “You’ve got to get that taken care of, and then we’re going to the police. That ape could have killed you.”

  “He wasn’t trying to kill me. He was just trying to scare me.”

  Kathryn turned, peering over her glasses. “Oh? Was it fear that caused that curious blue tint to your oxygen-starved face? We’re going to the police, and if you don’t, I will.”

  “No police.”

  “Jenny—”

  “I’m okay.”

  “What if I hadn’t been there?”

  “Look, Kat. Thank you for the rescue—” She was going to breeze on to her point, but having one’s life saved was nothing to gloss over. “Thank you,” she said again sincerely. “Really.” She took Kathryn’s hand from the gearshift. It was trembling. “Are you all right? You’re shaking.”

  Kathryn took her hand back, holding it up like it belonged to someone else. “Must be the adrenaline. It’s been a while since I physically accosted someone.”

  Jenny wasn’t sure whether she was being serious or trying to lighten the mood, but lightening the mood didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

  “Accost a lot of people, have you?”

  Kathryn looked again at her trembling hand. She opened and closed it a few times and gave it a good shake. “Like I said, it’s been a while.”

  Jenny grinned and shook her head. “I can’t believe you grabbed that guy by the nuts.”

  “Think I’m gonna skin a knuckle on his ugly mug? Besides, once you shut off the flow of blood to his brain …” She made a sour face. “Remind me to sterilize this hand when I get home.”

  They both chuckled and exhaled calming breaths in the subsiding rush of the incident. Jenny finally relaxed into her seat.

  Kathryn put a hesitant hand on her shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Jenny exhaled again and let her head fall back. “Yeah. Stupid.” She paused. “Thank you for not yelling at me.”

  Kathryn looked at her quizzically. “I’m not your keeper, Jenny. What you do on your own time is your business. I don’t think you need a lecture from me about how volatile that situation is. I’m just glad I was there to help.”

  “I should have gone straight to the office. Instead, I—” she left the sentence hanging and rubbed her forehead. “Stupid.”

  “Once a reporter,” Kathryn said with a grin, but Jenny knew there was nothing funny about what she’d done.

  The impact of what had happened, and what could have happened, had Kathryn not been there, welled up in her like a rising tide. “God.” She put her head in her hands as the tears came out of nowhere.

  * * *

  Kathryn anticipated a breakdown when reality set in, and she was at Jenny’s side with her arms around her in an instant when it happened. “Shhh. It’s okay. You’re okay now. I’m here. You’re okay.”

  Jenny responded to her gentle cooing by melting into her offered shoulder.

  “Shhh. You’re okay,” Kathryn continued. “You’re safe now.” She tightened her embrace. “Safe.”

  She stopped her gentle rocking, stunned by the emotion she was feeling. Never had she felt more useful or more at home than with her arms around Jenny Ryan, protecting her from the big, bad world. Traffic buzzed by, and the engine continued to hum, oblivious to her revelation. She closed her eyes and rested her head on the soft, fragrant blonde hair, wishing for the moment never to end.

  Jenny shifted slightly and pushed away. “Jeez, I’m sorry.”

  Kathryn wanted to say, stay here. “What’s the matter?”

  “I’m being a baby,” Jenny said, as she wiped away tears.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve just been attacked by a man who outweighed you three to one. He could have snapped you like a twig.”

  Jenny stretched her back and winced. “He nearly did.”

  “Yes, he nearly did.”

  Kathryn slid back into the driver’s seat, trying to hide her anxiety over what might have been. Her trembling was more than just adrenaline over the confrontation. It was fear, but not for her life, for Jenny’s.

  When she saw the brute put his hand to Jenny’s face, she was afraid she wouldn’t reach her in time. Her heart nearly stopped when he slammed her against the car and she went limp. That’s when the adrenaline really hit her and she felt as though she could tear the man apart with her bare hands.

  She glanced at Jenny, an absentminded gesture of reassurance, and found her looking her up and down curiously.

  “What were you doing there, anyway?” Jenny asked, taking in the denim work shirt and soft cotton pants. “Moonlighting at the factory?”

  Kathryn smiled, looking down at her casual attire. “Cleaning day.”

  Jenny raised her brow, and Kathryn knew it was because that didn’t answer her question. Her appearance involved a phone call from the OSS and a recruit in surveillance training in over her head when she saw her blonde charge for the day stepping into possible trouble. Unsure of what to do, she called in for instructions. Kathryn happened to be the nearest source of help, so she was called out to assess the situation.

  Having lied to Jenny during her assignment to her, she was loathe to do it again, so she told her the truth.

>   Jenny paused a beat, then shook her head. “Trainees are tailing me?”

  “Don’t take it personally. If you move into field training, you’ll do the same.”

  “Ugh.” Jenny put her head in her hands again. “That means my boss knows where I was and what happened.”

  “Probably.”

  “Will I be fired?”

  Kathryn looked at her wristwatch. “Technically, you’re not on the clock yet.”

  “I’m such an idiot.”

  She patted Jenny’s leg with a reassuring smile and glanced in the rearview mirror for any sign of a tail or trouble. “You’ll be fine.”

  Jenny looked behind as well. “Are we in the clear?”

  “Seem to be.” Which was unusual. Forrester generally had someone lurking, watching—guarding, as he liked to call it. Some guard. A few more minutes with that crowd and she would have been in deep trouble as well. Maybe he really did trust her and had called off the watchdogs while he was out of town. No matter, she still had to be cautious, just to be sure.

  Jenny offered another glance back, and Kathryn realized she was reacting to her furrowed brow and inaction.

  “Take me to work?” she asked.

  “First, we get that taken care of.” Kathryn pointed at Jenny’s chest. “We’ll just make a quick stop at a clinic.”

  “Honestly, Kat, it’s just a scratch. What are they going to do there?”

  “Give you a rabies shot?”

  “Ha ha.” Jenny peeked at the wound. “Hm. Maybe.” She smiled. “Seriously, though, they’re going to clean it up and put a dressing on it. I can do that.”

  That was true. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the police? They’re all good friends of mine now. I’ll make sure they treat you well.”

  Jenny laughed, and Kathryn was glad she recognized it as a joke about her part in the gun incident that briefly made her a murder suspect.