Free Honor by Janet Dailey Page B

performance reviews.
    He’d brought in a laptop from his car, a good one that looked ordinary but wasn’t. He kept it stashed inside a hidden compartment under the backseat, along with a specialized toolkit that held a lot of useful gizmos.
    One was a bug sweeper. Not for the kind of bugs that went splat on the windshield. He would need it to check Kenzie’s rental car and his own. Twice a day.
    Linc tapped the side of the laptop cover. It opened at a touch, keyed to his fingerprint. Anyone else trying to use it would trigger a failsafe self-destruct.
    Checking the encryption out of habit, Linc logged in at a workplace about a hundred miles to the north and joined a bull session at the digital water cooler for several minutes. Then he settled down, ready to immerse himself in work.
    Out of habit, he glanced at his cell phone. The small screen showed black. He didn’t check the call log, not expecting Kenzie to check in. For one thing, she prided herself on not seeming weak, which was a word that didn’t describe her at all.
    He pushed the phone aside, not noticing that it had gone dead.
     
    Kenzie was still in her rented car when her own cell rang and she snatched it up, pulling over again. Not Linc. One of the Corellis.
    Christine’s mother sounded weary as she said hello and gave Kenzie an update. Dr. Asher had discussed the latest round of tests and assured them that their daughter, though still unconscious, was doing relatively well.
    Kenzie heard the doubt in Mrs. Corelli’s voice on that score.
    “Anyway, dear, how are you?”
    She managed not to blurt out what had just happened, though the Corellis would have to know, and soon.
    “Oh—okay, I guess. I think I got all the paperwork.”
    “Good. I’ll look at it tomorrow. Thanks so much for all your help.”
    “If you don’t mind my asking,” Kenzie said quickly, “are you staying at Christine’s apartment tonight?” She had no idea how to forestall either of the Corellis if the answer was yes.
    There was a pause on the other end. “No,” Mrs. Corelli said finally. “Being in her place with all her things, remembering how happy she was there, just hurts. That was Christine before the accident.”
    Kenzie swallowed hard. “I understand.”
    “I’m going to my sister’s house instead. Alf will bed down on the cot in the hospital room.”
    So neither of them would be going back to Christine’s apartment tonight. That was a relief.
    She wanted desperately to talk to Linc about how to tell them. He had damn well better return her call or show up at her place per her message. If he wasn’t quick about it, she’d be gone for good when he got there.
    A strange sensation of calm descended on her as she drove the rest of the way. She didn’t recognize it as shock. Her perceptions felt heightened, her nerves stretched taut.
    Kenzie scanned the parking lot behind her building. There were no cars she didn’t recognize. Even so, she was on the alert until she was safely behind her own door.
    Once inside, she dumped the purse stuffed with documents and ran to the closet. In a frenzy, Kenzie yanked open the sliding door, dragging out the nylon-web tote bags she’d bought at a dollar store.
    Preferred by homeless people everywhere, she thought, raging inwardly. She was now one of them. She threw a bulky jacket into one and several pairs of sneakers into another, then pulled out her wheeled carry-on to fill that too.
    A knock at the door stopped her cold. Kenzie straightened without responding, trying to think of a weapon—hammer, wine bottle, anything that she could reach in time to whack the stalker with. A plastic hanger wasn’t going to do it.
    She stayed where she was, listening. The doorknob didn’t start to turn. The locks didn’t rattle. There was no slasher-movie creak of the hinges. But that didn’t mean she was safe.
    “Hey. It’s Linc.” His deep voice made her breath catch. Her blood flowed again, warming her.
    She walked noiselessly to