Chapter 26

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

A manda waved to the two women as they exited the store. When they were out of sight, she collapsed in her chair. A quick glance at her watch told her she'd been standing, signing books, and sharing recipes for an hour and a half. Not that she'd had many people stop by her table, but a few stayed. That last pair had been there for twenty minutes before they decided to buy her cookbook.

Alan sat beside her, silently. He'd only walked away once, when she was surrounded by a crowd. She smiled at him. "You must be bored to tears."

He set his magazine on the table. His hands were trembling again. "Not at all," he said. "I got some reading done, and I was near you. I can't think of a better way to spend the day."

Amanda massaged her tired back and looked around at the displays of books. Not a customer in sight.

"It's really starting to come down out there."

Beyond the glass doors, Amanda watched the snow swirling in the breeze. "That explains the dwindling customers." She checked the clock. Half an hour to go, not a shopper in sight. "I wonder if we've seen the last of them today. "

"I'm afraid we have." A tinny beep sounded from Alan's watch. He silenced it and grabbed a small pill bottle from his coat pocket. He removed the top, popped a yellow pill into his mouth, and swallowed it without water.

"Aspirin?"

He gave her a small smile. "Something like that."

Amanda looked back at the snow. "Are you staying close by?"

Alan slipped the pills back into his pocket. "I inherited a summer home from my parents. It's in Alton. I hardly ever use it, but it has so many great memories, I can't bring myself to sell it. I'm staying there tonight."

"Alton's near Winnipesaukee, isn't it?"

He nodded.

"I'm sure it's nice. Sorry to hear about your parents, though."

"They've been gone for a while." He straightened her business cards and bookmarks. "Actually, I wanted to show you something this afternoon. It's not too far from here—maybe ten minutes. Do you have time?"

Amanda looked outside at the snow. "I have to be back by five-thirty to get dinner started."

Alan tented his trembling fingers. "Shouldn't take long." He met her eyes and held them. "It's really important to me."

What could she do? He'd come all the way from New York to spend two hours with her. How could she refuse him a few minutes of her time? She looked out the front door. The parking lot was nearly empty. The snow was falling but not sticking to the road yet. It barely covered the grassy area out front.

"Whatever it is, I'd love to see it. It doesn't look like anyone else is going to come. Let's pack up early and get out of here."

Mark dropped the girls at his mother's house, kissed them goodbye, and began the long drive to Concord. His thoughts bounced from one terrifying thought to another. What if Gabriel was at the store with her right now? He eyed the phone sitting on his passenger seat. If only she'd answer. Even if she just yelled at him to stop calling, at least he'd know she was all right. But she'd been ignoring his calls ever since she'd reached the store.

You're not my protector anymore . . . I've arranged for someone to be with me . . .

Who was acting as Amanda's protector today? Was it Alan? Would Mark show up at the bookstore to meet his wife's new boyfriend?

Would he be able to keep from killing him?

He forced himself to pray. God was there, with them both, whether Amanda acknowledged Him or not.

He entered the Concord city limits as his phone rang.

"I have some news," Chris said. "I just left McIlroy. He recognized a name. Said the guy called a bunch of times when he worked for Sheppard."

Mark's heart pounded like the beat of a war drum. "Who is it?"

A slight pause. "I'm sorry, man. I should've trusted your instincts. The connection is Alan Morass."

His breath whooshed out of his lungs. Alan. Her confidant. A man she'd so easily grown to trust.

The man who might be with her right this minute.

"I have to call her."

"I already did. She's not answering."

Mark cursed, swerved around a compact sedan, and picked up speed. The rain had changed to snow, but it wouldn't slow him down .

There, just over the hill, he saw the sign for the bookstore. "I'm here. I'll call you as soon as I have her with me."

"Okay. I'll be praying."

Mark hung up the phone, parked the car, and ran to the door. His heart fell as soon as he walked inside. Ten feet beyond the entrance sat a table with two chairs behind it. A sign on the table read, "Meet Author M.L. Johnson today." The chairs were empty. The table, aside from the sign, was bare.

"Can I help you?"

Mark turned to the young man at the counter. "Amanda Johnson, the author, is she still here?"

"Sorry. You just missed her. They decided to pack up early because of the snow."

He forced himself to keep his voice level. "Who was with her, do you know?"

"I think he was her editor." The man turned to a roundish woman behind him. "Did you get that guy's name, the one with M.L. Johnson?"

"Sure. He was an editor out of New York. Alan, I think."

"What time did they leave?"

The man shrugged. "Fifteen, twenty minutes ago."

"And they . . . they left together?"

The man squinted. "Who are you exactly?"

"I'm her husband."

He reddened. "Oh, Dude, I'm sorry. Uh, they weren't . . . they were just like friends, you know?"

"Did they leave together?"

The man hesitated, seemed to vacillate. "Uh, well . . ."

"I'm not angry with her," Mark said as calmly as he could manage. "We're getting a divorce. It's just that . . . did she tell you she has a stalker?"

He cocked his head to the side. "No."

Mark blew out an angry breath. "She does, and I just found out it's Alan Morass, the man she's with. If you heard where they were going, you have to tell me. Now."

"Are you sure? They seemed friendly."

He stepped forward, balled his hands into fists. "I'm sure they did. Where did they go?"

"I don't know. I heard him say he wanted to show her something." He turned to the woman at the other register. "Did you hear anything?"

“Sorry, no.”

Mark walked back outside and looked around the parking lot for her car. It was gone, just like Amanda.