Page 37 of Before I Wake


  “Absolutely.” Rae tugged Nathan’s hand to get him to start moving. “Who knows, maybe we’ll find your grandfather and talk cars for a while too. I heard a rumor you want to inherit that Porsche.”

  “Better believe it. Have you seen that thing eat up a highway? I’ve been chasing it long enough to appreciate its handling.”

  Rae settled in between the two men, not sure if she was ready for this afternoon spent with both of them, but figuring it would at least not be boring. Nathan turned the sign of the Chapel Detective Agency to closed.

  She pointed to her car. “I’m driving.”

  She saw the two men look at each other, but neither said a word as they crossed over to her car. “Thank you.”

  “I’m still going to hold my nose when you’re not looking,” Bruce replied, sliding into the back.

  Nathan just smiled at her.

  Rae clipped on her seat belt and started the car, pausing just long enough to return Nathan’s smile and then look back at Bruce. “One perfect house, gentleman. Character being the best word to describe it. Let’s see what you can both recommend in Justice that fits that description. The Horton place first?”

  “Take a left at the next street,” Nathan directed.

  “You’re going to like living in Justice, Rae. You won’t want to settle anywhere else,” Bruce predicted.

  “We’re about to see.” She followed Nathan’s directions, wondering if when this search was done, she would find a place in Justice she would be comfortable calling home.

  About the Author

  Dee Henderson is the author of fourteen best-selling novels, including the acclaimed O’Malley series and the Uncommon Heroes series. As a leader in the inspirational romantic suspense category, her books have won or been nominated for several prestigious industry awards including the RWA’s RITA Award, the Christy Award, the ECPA Gold Medallion, the Holt Medallion, the National Readers’ Choice Award, and the Golden Quill. Dee is a lifelong resident of Illinois and is active online. Visit her at www.deehenderson.com.

  Book Discussion Guide

  Before I Wake

  1. The word Justice is both the name of a town and the name of its sheriff. Does this seem like an appropriate name to you? Explain.

  2. In the prologue, we meet Rae Gabriella. What are your first impressions of her? of Bruce?

  3. What might make Rae think she can “disappear” in Justice? Do you think that Rae will succeed in escaping her past by moving there? Why or why not?

  4. What is Bruce’s motivation for taking Rae on as a partner? In Chapter Four he tells Nathan that she was a good cop and that it will be useful for him to have a female on his team. Do you think his motivation goes deeper than that?

  5. What are some things Rae does to get familiar with her new surroundings? How does her approach, as a trained undercover cop, differ from that of a typical newcomer?

  6. Nathan and Bruce are both dedicated to uncovering the truth in Justice: one as a sheriff, the other as a private investigator. How did each of them land in their present positions? When do their responsibilities complement each other? When might they clash?

  7. Discuss Nathan and Bruce’s friendship. What do they have in common? Are their feelings for Rae a potential source of tension between them?

  8. Discuss the significance of a labor strike in a town like Justice. Why are emotions running so hot? What are the issues from the workers’ point of view? from the management’s point of view? Explain the looming threat of violence.

  9. Have you ever personally observed or experienced a labor strike? If so, what was it like? Did it achieve its objectives?

  10. Many people are surprised to learn that the underground drug culture is not just an urban blight, but also a real problem in small towns—from marijuana to methamphetamine to heroin. What might be some of the advantages and disadvantages of small-town connections to someone making or selling drugs?

  11. What qualities make the “EE” designer drug nearly a perfect formula, as far as illegal drugs go?

  12. Nathan has an interesting relationship with his grandfather. Why has Nathan asked Bruce to monitor his grandfather’s activities? Do you think that was the right thing to do? Why or why not?

  13. Both Bruce and Rae feel that they have changed a lot in the past several years. Do they feel they’ve changed for the better, or for worse?

  14. How did the event in Washington, D.C., affected Rae’s confidence in her skills? What questions of faith has it raised for her?

  15. In Chapter Fifteen Bruce says, “I’m walking around proof that people can change.” What—or whom—does he credit with the change? Have you seen evidence of this kind of change in your own life or that of someone you know?

  16. In Chapter Forty-Two Rae asks, “How can God let us get so hurt if He loves us?” What is Nathan’s response? Do you agree with his response? Why or why not?

  17. Do you think Rae will eventually rekindle a romantic relationship with Bruce? begin a new one with Nathan? Neither? Explain.

  O’MALLEY SERIES PREQUEL

  DANGER IN THE SHADOWS

  THE SUMMER STORM LIT UP the night sky in a jagged display of energy, lightning bouncing, streaking, fragmenting between towering thunderheads. Sara Walsh ignored the storm as best she could, determined not to let it interrupt her train of thought. The desk lamp as well as the overhead light were on in her office as she tried to prevent any shadows from forming. What she was writing was disturbing enough.

  The six-year-old boy had been found. Dead.

  Writing longhand on a yellow legal pad of paper, she shaped the twenty-ninth chapter of her mystery novel. Despite the dark specificity of the scene, the flow of words never faltered.

  The child had died within hours of his abduction. His family, the Oklahoma law enforcement community, even his kidnapper, did not realize it. Sara did not pull back from writing the scene even though she knew it would leave a bitter taste of defeat in the mind of the reader. The impact was necessary for the rest of the book.

  She frowned, crossed out the last sentence, added a new detail, then went on with her description of the farmer who had found the boy.

  Thunder cracked directly overhead. Sara flinched. Her office suite on the thirty-fourth floor put her close enough to the storm she could hear the air sizzle in the split second before the boom. She would like to be in the basement parking garage right now instead of her office.

  She had been writing since eight that morning. A glance at the clock on her desk showed it was almost eight in the evening. The push to finish a story always took over as she reached the final chapters. This tenth book was no exception.

  Twelve hours. No wonder her back muscles were stiff. She had taken a brief break for lunch while she reviewed the mail her secretary had prioritized for her. The rest of her day had been spent working on the book. She arched her back and rubbed at the knot.

  This was the most difficult chapter in the book to write. It was better to get it done in one long, sustained effort. Death always squeezed her heart.

  Had Dave been in town, he would have insisted she wrap it up and come home. Her life was restricted enough as it was. Her brother refused to let her spend all her time at the office. He would come lean against the doorjamb of her office and give her that look along with his predictable lecture telling her all she should be doing: Puttering around the house, cooking, messing with the roses, something other than sit behind that desk.

  Sara smiled. She did so enjoy taking advantage of Dave’s occasional absences.

  His flight back to Chicago from the FBI academy at Quantico had been delayed due to the storm front. When he had called her from the airport, he had cautioned her he might not be home until eleven.

  It wasn’t a problem, she had assured him, everything was fine. Code words. Spoken every day. So much a part of their language now that she spoke them instinctively. “Everything is fine”—all clear; “I’m fine”—I’ve got company; “I’m doing fine”—I’m
in danger. She had lived the dance a long time. The tight security around her life was necessary. It was overpowering, obnoxious, annoying . . . and comforting.

  Sara turned in the black leather chair and looked at the display of lightning. The rain ran down the panes of thick glass. The skyline of downtown Chicago glimmered back at her through the rain.

  With every book, another fact, another detail, another intense emotion, broke through from her own past. She could literally feel the dry dirt under her hand, feel the oppressive darkness. Reliving what had happened to her twenty-five years ago was terrifying. Necessary, but terrifying.

  She sat lost in thought for several minutes, idly walking her pen through her fingers. Her adversary was out there somewhere, still alive, still hunting her. Had he made the association to Chicago yet? After all these years, she was still constantly moving, still working to stay one step ahead of the threat. Her family knew only too well his threat was real.

  The man would kill her. Had long ago killed her sister. The threat didn’t get more basic than that. She had to trust others and ultimately God for her security. There were days her faith wavered under the intense weight of simply enduring that stress. She was learning, slowly, by necessity, how to roll with events, to trust God’s ultimate sovereignty.

  The notepad beside her was filled with doodled sketches of faces. One of these days her mind was finally going to stop blocking the one image she longed to sketch. She knew she had seen the man. Whatever the cost, whatever the consequences of trying to remember, they were worth paying in order to try to bring justice for her and her sister.

  Sara let out a frustrated sigh. She couldn’t force the image to appear no matter how much she longed to do so. She was the only one who still believed it was possible for her to remember it. The police, the FBI, the doctors, had given up hope years ago.

  She fingered a worn photo of her sister Kim that sat by a white rose on her desk. She didn’t care what the others thought. Until the killer was caught, she would never give up hope.

  God was just. She held on to that knowledge and the hope that the day of justice would eventually arrive. Until it did, she carried a guilt inside that remained wrapped around her heart. In losing her twin she had literally lost part of herself.

  Turning her attention back to her desk, she debated for a moment if she wanted to do any more work that night. She didn’t.

  As she put her folder away, the framed picture on the corner of her desk caught her attention; it evoked a smile. Her best friend was getting married. Sara was happy for her, but also envious. The need to break free of the security blanket rose and fell with time. She could feel the sense of rebellion rising again. Ellen had freedom and a life. She was getting married to a wonderful man. Sara longed to one day have that same choice. Without freedom, it wasn’t possible, and that reality hurt. A dream was being sacrificed with every passing day.

  As she stepped into the outer office, the room lights automatically turned on. Sara reached back and turned off the interior office lights.

  Her suite was in the east tower of the business complex. Rising forty-five stories, the two recently built towers added to the already impressive downtown skyline. She struggled with the elevator ride to the thirty-fourth floor each day, for she did not like closed-in spaces, but she considered the view worth the price.

  The elevator that responded tonight came from two floors below. There were two connecting walkways between the east and west towers, one on the sixth floor and another in the lobby. She chose the sixth floor concourse tonight, walking through it to the west tower with a confident but fast pace.

  She was alone in the wide corridor. Travis sometimes accompanied her, but she had waved off his company tonight and told him to go get dinner. If she needed him, she would page him.

  The click of her heels echoed off the marble floor. There was parking under each tower, but if she parked under the tower where she worked, she would be forced to pull out onto a one-way street no matter which exit she took. It was a pattern someone could observe and predict. Changing her route and time of day across one of the two corridors was a better compromise. She could hopefully see the danger coming.

  * * *

  Sara decided to take the elevator down to the west tower parking garage rather than walk the six flights. She would have preferred the stairs, but she could grit her teeth for a few flights to save time. She pushed the button to go down and watched the four elevators to see which would respond first. The one to her left, coming down from the tenth floor.

  When it stopped, she reached inside, pushed the garage-floor parking button, but did not step inside. Tonight she would take the second elevator.

  Sara shifted her raincoat over her arm and moved her briefcase to her other hand. The elevator stopped and the doors slid open.

  A man was in the elevator.

  She froze.

  He was leaning against the back of the elevator, looking like he had put in a long day at work, a briefcase in one hand and a sports magazine in the other, his blue eyes gazing back at her. She saw a brief look of admiration in his eyes.

  Get in and take a risk, step back and take a risk.

  She knew him. Adam Black. His face was as familiar as any sports figure in the country, even if he’d been out of the game of football for three years. His commercial endorsements and charity work had continued without pause.

  Adam Black worked in this building? This was a nightmare come true. She saw photographs of him constantly in magazines, local newspapers, and occasionally on television. The last thing she needed was to be near someone who attracted media attention.

  She hesitated, then stepped in, her hand tightening her hold on the briefcase handle. A glance at the board of lights showed he had already selected the parking garage.

  “Working late tonight?” His voice was low, a trace of a northeastern accent still present, his smile a pleasant one.

  Her answer was a noncommital nod.

  The elevator began to silently descend.

  She had spent too much time in European finishing schools to slouch. Her posture was straight, her spine relaxed, even if she was nervous. She hated elevators. She should have taken the stairs.

  “Quite a storm out there tonight.”

  The heels of her patent leather shoes sank into the jade carpet as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Yes.”

  Three more floors to go.

  There was a slight flicker to the lights and then the elevator jolted to a halt.

  “What?” Sara felt adrenaline flicker in her system like the lights.

  He pushed away from the back wall. “A lightning hit must have blown a circuit.”

  The next second, the elevator went black.

  O’MALLEY SERIES #1

  THE NEGOTIATOR

  DAVE WAITED UNTIL KATE’S brother Stephen disappeared up the stairs. “Why didn’t you tell me yesterday? Trust me?”

  “Tell you what? That I might have someone in my past who may be a murderer?” Kate swung away from him into the living room. “I’ve never even met this guy. Until twenty-four hours ago, I didn’t even have a suspicion that he existed.”

  “Kate, he’s targeting you.”

  “Then let him find me.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “There is no reason for him to have blown up a plane just to get at me, to get at some banker. We’re never going to know the truth unless someone can grab him. And if he gets cornered by a bunch of cops, he’ll either kill himself or be killed in a shootout. It would be easier all around if he did come after me.”

  “Stop thinking with your emotions and use your head.” Dave shot back. “What we need to do is to solve this case. That’s how we’ll find out the answers and ultimately find him.”

  “Then you go tear through the piles of data. I don’t want to have anything to do with it. Don’t you understand that? I don’t want to be the one who puts the pieces together. Yesterday was like getting
stuck in the gut with a hot poker.”

  He understood it, could feel the pain flowing from her. “Fine. Stay here for a day, get your feet back under you. Then get back in the game and stop acting like you’re the only one this is hurting. Or have you forgotten all the people who died?” He saw the sharp pain flash in her eyes before they went cold and regretted his words.

  “That was a low blow and you know it.”

  “Kate?”

  “I can’t offer anything to the investigation, don’t you understand that? I don’t know anything. I don’t know him.”

  “Well he knows you. And if you walk away from this now, you’re going to feel like a coward. Just what are you so afraid of?”

  He could see it in her, a fear so deep it shimmered in her eyes and pooled them black, and he remembered his coworker’s comment that he probably didn’t want to read the court record. His eyes narrowed and his voice softened. “Are you sure you don’t remember this guy?”

  She broke eye contact, and it felt like a blow because he knew that at this moment he was the one hurting her. “If you need to get away for twenty-four hours, do it. Just don’t run because you’re afraid. You’ll never forgive yourself.”

  “Marcus wouldn’t let me go check out the data because he was afraid I would kill the guy if I found him.”

  Her words rocked him back on his heels. “What?” He closed the distance between them, and for the first time since this morning began, actually felt something like relief. He rested his hands calmly on her shoulders. “No you wouldn’t. You’re too good a cop.”

  She blinked.

  “I almost died with you, remember?” He smiled. “I’ve seen you under pressure.” His thumb rubbed along her jaw. “Come on, Kate. Come back with me to the house, and let’s get back to work. The media wouldn’t get near you, I promise.”

  Marcus and Stephen came back down the stairs, but Kate didn’t look around; she just kept studying Dave. She finally turned and looked at her brother. “Marcus, I’m going back to Dave’s.”