Once Upon a Friendship

fifty-mile paved sport path that ran through central Denver and out to the suburbs.

“I haven’t had my skates on in a couple of years,” he told her. She and Marie had taken up inline skating during college. On a lark. Because Marie had been taking a fitness class and had hated jogging. They’d fallen in love with the sport. And eventually had talked Liam into joining them for some cross-country skates on Saturdays.

“When the weather’s nice Marie and I still go just about every weekend. But we haven’t been out yet this year. It’ll be cold, but the pavement’s dry. We could go for a short skate.”

“Okay, yeah,” he said.

“I’ll ask Marie, see if she wants to go...”

He nodded. Gabi smiled. Good. Normal.

But when he stood—a tall, suited man whose looks screamed success—and picked up his five-hundred-dollar leather briefcase, her breath caught.

How could she have just asked this man to go skating with her?

He was Liam, she reminded herself with a mental shake. She and Marie had skated with him more times than she could count.

He grabbed her hand. Squeezed it. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” She thought her voice sounded normal enough. Hoped it did.

But as he walked out her door with a casual “See ya later,” she resisted the urge to rub the hand he’d touched against her jacket. It felt strange. As if it wasn’t quite the hand she’d always known.

Which was absolutely ludicrous.

But kind of fit Liam’s place in her life at the moment.

* * *

LIAM WAS A FEW minutes from home when his cell phone rang. June Fryburg, the editor who’d published his piece on the near abduction—as well as many of his travel stories over the years—wanted him to cover an upcoming court case involving a seventeen-year-old boy who was suing his parents for the right to go off his antidepressants. Unless the boy came up with some surprising medical testimony he was going to lose, but the case was making national news and June, the editor of a small, but gaining-national-attention online news source, thought Liam would give the situation the respectful coverage it needed, as opposed to the sensationalistic handling it would get from their competitors.

He accepted the challenge. He pulled his BMW into its newly designated parking spot behind the downtrodden building he’d just purchased and was about to go in to tell Marie his good news when there was a knock on the window of his car.

Reaching into his jacket was instinctual. And dumb. He didn’t carry a weapon. Nor was his cell phone in his pocket. He’d just dropped it on the floor when the knock had sounded.

“Liam Connelly?” The voice was deep. Gruff.

He turned to look. And saw a man, wearing dark pants and an equally dark tweed jacket, staring down at him. The thick neck and broad shoulders pretty much consumed his attention as he reached toward his feet for his phone.

“I’m here via Jeb Williams.” His father’s former navy SEAL bodyguard.

The man didn’t sound threatening. To the contrary, he had his hands out, palms up. Realizing suddenly how he must look—as if he was reaching for a weapon—Liam grabbed his phone. Held it up.

The big guy nodded. Liam dialed.

Williams didn’t pick up. His father’s employees had undoubtedly been told not to take his calls. George had already told him as much.

He had a choice. He could stay locked up in his car until the guy gave up and left. Or he could open his door and find out why a thug was using Williams’s name to seek him out.

Liam opened the door. Got out and faced the man.

“How do you know Jeb?” He went on the offensive because it was better than being intimidated. Or afraid.

“We have much of the same training,” the man said. “Personal security and criminal justice.”

“What’s his wife’s name?” Liam felt a bit stupid as he asked. Public internet searches would have listed people with whom Williams was associated.

“Mary Ellen. He met her in college—the criminal justice training I was telling you about. She has a degree in nursing, though she hasn’t worked in years. They have two kids. Heber was born at four in the morning and Faith on Christmas Day.”