John glanced briefly toward the rear of the coffee shop, mentally gauging the path they’d take once they walked around back. He then looked back at Shannon. “Slowly, wrap up the rest of your brownie,” he instructed. “We’ll toss our cups and head out front, walking at a brisk pace around back. My car is a dark blue sedan, parked four rows back. The van is gray, and it’s two rows and several parking spaces closer to Starbucks. When I headed into the building, it was idling. Let’s see if it still is, and what they do when they see me escorting you out. Just take my lead. Walk with me to my car, talking the way I said, and get in. Don’t even glance their way. Lock your door manually. I’ll take care of the rest.”
With shaking hands, Shannon wrapped her brownie up in four napkins. She could have asked for another pastry bag, but her legs felt like water, and just getting from here to Mr. Nickels’ car would take all her reserves. She’d have to rev herself up, force herself to be upbeat and chatty.
Right now, that felt impossible.
“Come on.” John’s big smile helped, as he rose and took the brownie from her. “I’ll carry this. I promise not to take a bite.”
A small smile curved her lips. “I trust you.”
“Good. Remember that.” He took her arm in a paternal fashion, guided her toward the door, and pushed it open. “So how’s that world history assignment going?” he asked as they began the endless walk around back of the building. “Comparing today’s family unit with the dynamics of the post-World War II family sounds pretty overwhelming to me.”
Shannon looked up at him in surprise. “You have kids,” she murmured in surprise.
“Besides you?” John replied quietly, reminding her of their play-acting roles. “Two in high school and one in college. I’m not just great at my job. I’m a super dad, too.” He squeezed her arm. “Now get back in character. Answer what I asked you.”
Shannon blinked as she processed the fact that Mr. Nickels was a real person. He had a life. He even had kids. Somehow that made this a little easier.
“Shannon?” he prompted her in a normal tone. “Please don’t tell me that your silence means you haven’t touched the assignment.”
“I’m halfway through it,” Shannon improvised. “I’ve been doing a lot of online research so I can really impress my tutor, Ms. Cosner. Julie’s friend, Miles, is helping me. He’s a computer genius.”
All that was true, which made this charade much easier. “Ms. Cosner wasn’t very happy with my decision to take a few weeks off from school. But she understood how messed up I was after my accident and the surgery.”
Gently, John touched Shannon’s shoulder. “How’s the pain today?”
She shrugged. “Sometimes it hurts a lot. Sometimes it’s okay. I’ll get back on track with my physical therapy again soon, I promise.”
“Good.” John nodded in approval. “In the meantime, your mother made your next cardiologist appointment.” Deep concern laced his tone. “Have you been taking your meds and eating healthfully? A brownie for breakfast doesn’t exactly thrill me.”
“I always take my meds,” Shannon answered truthfully. “And the brownie was a one-time thing. Julie keeps on top of me about that. I eat the same good-for-me foods I did when I was training, plus I go through the exercise routine Dr. Schyler prescribed every day.” She swallowed. “He made it perfectly clear that it’s the only way I’m going to lead a normal life.”
“I’m so sorry, honey.” John’s pained response wasn’t staged. It was real. “But we’ll tackle this as a family, and we’ll win.”
He sounded so much like her own father that tears filled Shannon’s eyes. At this point, pretending was easy. “Thanks, Dad,” she managed. “I know we will.”
“We’re almost there,” Mr. Nickels muttered, his words yanking Shannon back to reality. “And I don’t see anyone watching us on foot. So my guess is they’re both still in the van.” He guided her around the bend and toward the parking lot. “You’re doing great.
“I want to hear about Julie’s gym while we drive,” he said aloud. “From what you told us on the phone, it sounds pretty amazing.”
“It is.” The parking lot was busy, with lots of Starbucks patrons jumping in and out of their cars, arriving and departing. But Shannon spotted the gray van in her peripheral vision. It was still idling. She had to force herself not to peer inside to see if she recognized the thugs Mr. Nickels had described.
“The car’s over here,” John said, pointing. “We can call Mom on our way home. She’d love that.”
“Sure.” It was all Shannon could manage. Playing house was over. Now she was face-to-face with her worst fears. Other than idling, the van was totally devoid of activity. What were its occupants doing? What were they planning on doing?
Abruptly, the reality of it hit. They didn’t want to watch her. They wanted to take her.
She froze. “They’re here to kidnap me,” she said in a voice filled with paralyzed terror. “It’s the only way they’re going to get their answers.”
John said nothing. He just gripped Shannon’s arm tightly and nearly dragged her the few remaining steps to the car.
Thirty seconds later, she was in the passenger seat, door locked, and Mr. Nickels was sliding into the driver’s seat. He immediately pressed the lock button, and they were sealed inside.
“Kidnapping is a possibility.” He didn’t insult Shannon by waving away her fears. He just responded in a straightforward but soothing tone. “We don’t know for sure. On the other hand, they could just be low-level lookout, rather than strong-armers, which means they might have no clue what they’re going to do next. Remember, not every criminal is a brain surgeon. In fact, few of them are.”
That calmed her down a bit. “I guess.”
“Regardless, our step one is complete,” Mr. Nickels said. “You did an A-plus job, Shannon.” He took out his cell phone and snapped a few pictures of the van. Then, he turned on the ignition, shifted the car into drive, and began heading out of the lot. “Let’s see what they do next.”