Long After Midnight by Iris Johansen

story about the time he was jailed down in a little southern town after he’d assassinated the town mayor, who was the brother of the sheriff. The sheriff wanted to know who hired him real bad. Before Ishmaru managed to escape, every fingernail on both his hands was torn out. He didn’t talk.”
    “Could he have planted the bombs?”
    “Not willingly. He likes to work up close. Real close.”
    “But he could have done it?”
    “Oh yes, he’s multitalented. It depends on what he was given as an incentive.”
    “Does he work with anyone else?”
    “No one would work with a crazy bastard who would kill you as soon as look at you. Anything else?”
    “Yes, I want you to go to the cabin tomorrow and wait for us.”
    Seth hung up the phone.
    Ishmaru. Noah went into the bathroom, stripped off his clothes, and turned on the shower. He would have to call Kate tomorrow and tell her what he’d learned. That’s all she needed—to know a crazy man was assigned to kill her. He should be glad; this could be the impetus for her joining his camp.
    He stepped beneath the warm shower and let the pounding water ease a little of his tension.
    He wasn’t glad. He was mad and sad and a little jealous of Seth, who had nothing to worry about but pleasing the woman in his bed. He didn’t want this guilt and responsibility. He didn’t want to scheme to frighten a woman he respected. He didn’t want anyone else to die.
    So what if he didn’t want any of those things, he thought impatiently. There was only one direction he could go now. He would call Kate and hope he frightened the hell out of her. Time was running out. When he moved, it would have to be fast.
    And Kate Denby had to be with him.
             
    The black-and-white was still parked in front of the house when Kate pulled into the driveway. She got out, crossed to the front door, and stood under the porch light for a moment so that the officer could see that she was the same woman who had left three hours ago. He waved his hand in acknowledgment. He was a nice young man. He hadn’t wanted her to leave the house he was guarding tonight.
    Three hours. It seemed more like a century.
    She unlocked the door, went into the house, and closed the door softly. She mustn’t wake Phyliss. Phyliss had buried her son today and didn’t need to worry about why Kate had been wandering around the countryside in the middle of the night. She locked the door and shot the bolt.
    Safe.
    But she didn’t feel safe. A friend and lover had died, a man had stalked her home, and Noah Smith had told her that she and Joshua would be killed if she didn’t work with him. Talk about forced labor, she thought tiredly.
    Well, it was too much for her to deal with now. She would think about it after she’d had a good night’s sleep.
    She turned out the lights and moved down the hall. Joshua’s door was ajar and she peeked in. She hoped he hadn’t called out while she had been away from the house. She hated the thought that she might not have been there for him.
    Joshua was sprawled on his stomach, and his cover was on the floor. He didn’t stir when she went in and tucked the covers over him again. The threat that had seemed so frightening was fading away as she stood in this room. It was the quintessential Joshua room. A baseball glove hung on a bedpost, faded Star Wars drapes framed the venetian blinds at the window, a Dave Justice book bag lay in the far corner.
    I don’t know what’s best, Joshua.
    I think Noah Smith is trying to do something wonderful. It could help so many people, maybe even you. But it’s a dream.
    Joshua was her reality.
    And she had to protect that reality. Aligning herself with Noah Smith might be the worst thing she could do to keep her son safe. Perhaps it would be better for them to take a trip, disappear for a while until RU2 went public.
    She turned away from the bed and left Joshua’s room.
    She went to the hall closet, got down the safety gun box, opened it,