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The Dark Atonement

By Sarah Hamaker

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Chapter 1
The trains were running late tonight, and the press of bodies on the platform of the Farragut West Metro stop pushed against Lena Hoffman. Nothing unusual during rush hour in the nation’s capital. She tightened her grip on her messenger bag strap. The beginnings of a headache pulsated along the base of her neck.
“Sorry,” someone mumbled as the crowd shifted and bumped her closer to the edge of the platform.
Her cell phone buzzed, and she inched it out of her coat pocket to glance at a text.
Where R U?
Lena glanced down the tracks. The electronic signs indicated the next Orange Line train would be arriving in two minutes—the same message it had been proclaiming for the past fifteen minutes. Conversing with Belinda Travers would help to make the time pass more quickly.
@ Farragut West. She managed to text back coherently in the cramped space.
Did U work L8?
No. Trains L8.
The unreliability of DC subway system often caused Lena to rethink her dependence on public transportation, but the convenience of not having to drive and park in Washington, DC, made it worth putting up with evenings like this.
Guess you’ll miss seeing your hunky neighbor tonight.
Lena smiled at Belinda’s text. Her best friend frequently teased about timing her return home to coincide with a new neighbor. In the six months since he’d moved into the condo across the hall, Lena hadn’t exchanged more than a handful of words with him. She also had yet to see the tall man with the dark brown hair and brown eyes with a female.
Warmth dotted Lena’s cheeks as she recalled Belinda’s suggestion to ask him over for dinner, but she could hardly get the man to look her in the eye much less linger in the common hallway long enough to ask that question.
U know I’m not sure about dating again after being dumped.
Lena shuddered at the memory of Capitol Hill staffer Stan Monahan. To think she’d wasted the better part of a year going out with him. Stan’s handsome face had taken her eyes off his political ambitions, so his parting statement had stung. He’d said as casually as if he’d asked for cream in his coffee that he could no longer date a woman who brought nothing to the table in the way of connections.
Flashing lights and a collective sigh of relief from the crowd on the platform signaled the arrival of a train. Lena texted the good news to Belinda and wedged the phone into her coat pocket. Only a few people exited the car, but Lena pushed her way into the crowded compartment, finding a small space to occupy for the three stops until she could exit. At Rosslyn, she moved off the train and up the escalator to North Moore Street, glad for the fresh air after the long wait on the platform.
The afternoon’s warmer temperature had plummeted with the descent of the sun, and a breeze brought a decidedly chilly wind. As she turned right onto Wilson Boulevard, she pulled out her phone to check the time. Six-forty-five. Definitely too late to cross paths with her neighbor. She hadn’t told Belinda she’d seen his name—Dr. Devlin Mills—on a piece of mail he’d dropped last week. If her friend knew that juicy tidbit, her admonishments to ask out the hunky doctor would be constant.
A few blocks later, she waited at a light to cross North Quinn Street. The crossing light flicked to the walking man, and she stepped off the curb, her focus drifting to the Mexican restaurant a little way down the block. Maybe she’d treat herself to takeout from Guajillo. Her mouth watered at the thought of biting into a hot, crispy pork chimichanga.
Halfway into the intersection, Lena curved slightly to the right to enter the parking lot of the small strip mall. An engine revved. Then a black SUV roared out of nowhere like a bull charging a matador’s cape. Lena froze, not sure which direction the car would go. From behind, someone yanked on her messenger bag. She reflexively clutched at it but the movement propelled her directly into the path of the oncoming car.
# # #
Dr. Devlin Mills rotated his shoulders as he waited with about twenty others for the light to change at the intersection of North Quinn Street and Wilson Boulevard. He had stopped by Heavy Seas Alehouse in Arlington after driving home from work for an impromptu thirtieth birthday celebration of one of his co-workers. Devlin wasn’t into the bar scene, and he skipped many happy hour gatherings. However, he liked working with Dr. Nancy Orleans and so had stayed long enough to down a seltzer water with a twist of lime and wish her a happy birthday before departing for his quiet condo. He didn’t blame her for wanting to celebrate off the National Institutes of Health campus, given their immediate supervisor, Dr. Walter Shan, frowned upon socializing in the office.
The streetlights cast brightness into the cold, January evening. Once again, he’d miss seeing his lovely next-door neighbor. Granted, he’d yet to gather his courage to actually introduce himself. His co-workers lightheartedly teased him about being the embodiment of the stereotypical reserved scientist, especially around women he found as attractive as his neighbor. Her long blond hair and blue eyes sent his blood racing and tied his tongue in knots.
The light changed, and the group moved off the sidewalk and into the crosswalk. One figure broke off to veer toward the entrance to the shopping center’s parking lot, and he caught a glimpse of a familiar face. He quickened his pace to catch up to his neighbor. Then a black SUV gunned its engine and headed right toward her.
The woman turned at the sound and froze, her eyes wide and mouth open as the vehicle raced closer. Devlin dashed forward, but the SUV came between him and his neighbor, scattering the group crossing the street and eliciting curses and shouts as the driver negotiated a tight right turn and sped away up Wilson Boulevard.
His heart pounding, Devlin ran the last few feet to reach the woman, who lay on her side on the curb of the parking lot apron. Kneeling, he gently touched her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“I think so.” She slowly pushed herself upright, her hair falling across her cheek.
He brushed it back, his fingertips lightly grazing the soft skin. “That was close.”
“I’ve got 911 on the line. Does she need an ambulance?” said a woman’s over Devlin’s shoulder.
His neighbor shook her head. “No, I wasn’t hit. I moved out of the way just in time.”
Devlin turned to the bystander, phone to her ear. “Thank you, ma’am. I’m a doctor. I’ll make sure she goes to the hospital if she needs to.”
The Good Samaritan nodded and spoke something into the phone Devlin couldn’t hear. His attention returned to assessing his neighbor’s injuries. “Are you sure the SUV didn’t clip you?”
The woman nodded slowly. “Someone grabbed for my bag, and that turned me away from the car just in time.”
Devlin frowned. He’d seen the SUV gun its engine as it approached the intersection, but from his view, the car had swerved toward the parking lot entrance. The driver must have realized someone was walking there at the last minute and missed her. “It looked like he didn’t realize you were about to cross the parking lot entrance and overcompensated.”
“I could have sworn the car headed right toward me, but it happened so fast, maybe you’re right.” She gathered her bag and started to rise.
Devlin offered his assistance. “Let me help you. You’re probably still shaky from the close call.”
“Thank you.” She straightened and winced, her hand going to her hip. “Oh, that’s going to leave a bruise.”
The woman leaned into him, and Devlin inhaled the scent of spring as a lock of her hair brushed his shoulder. Then she met his gaze. “Wait a minute. Don’t you live across from me?”
“Yes. Devlin Mills, at your service.” Devlin placed his arm more firmly around her waist, liking how she fit snugly against his body, her head rising above his shoulder. He liked tall women. This woman was easily five-foot-nine, a nice height that complimented his own six-foot-one.
“Did you say you’re a doctor?” Her gaze captured his.
Now looking into her sky-blue eyes, words deserted him once again. Then she blinked, and he found his voice. “Yes. I work as a researcher at the National Institutes of Health.”
“I’m Lena Hoffman, translator at the State Department.” She shifted under his arm. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
Devlin had been so concerned for her well-being, he’d forgotten to be nervous. Even though the immediate crisis was over, the nerves he’d previously experienced around her hadn’t returned. “I’ll walk you home. I have some gel ice packs for those bruises.” He guided her onto the sidewalk.
“Thank you.” She gestured toward the Mexican restaurant as they passed it. “I was going to get a chimichanga for dinner tonight, but my appetite has gone.”
“A stressful situation can take away a desire for food.” He adjusted his pace to match her slower one. “Thank goodness you weren’t seriously hurt.”
Lena paused at the sidewalk junction leading to their gated condo community. “I am grateful, but I can’t shake the sensation it wasn’t an accident.”
“It didn’t look deliberate from my perspective.” Devlin released his hold on her and walked a couple of steps ahead to punch in the security code to unlock the gate. He swung it open for her to pass. Funny how much he missed having her tucked into his side.
“Maybe not.” She shrugged. “I can’t think of any reason someone would want to run me down, so it’s probably just my imagination.” Lena went through the gate, the earlier tremors from the near-miss not evident in her stride.
“You seem steadier on your feet now.” He pulled the gate shut and returned to her side.
“I’m still a bit shook up, but I can walk unassisted.” She demonstrated by continuing down the sidewalk. “I have ice in my freezer, so you don’t have to bother with gel packs.”
“It’s no bother. The gel cold packs will be more effective and are less messy.” He held open the outside door to their condo building.
At the mailboxes in the common hallway, she stopped and inserted a key into hers. “Okay, you’ve convinced me.” She tucked the envelopes into her messenger bag.
He pulled his own mail out and shoved it under his arm. “I’ll come by in about fifteen minutes with the cold packs.”
“That sounds good. Thank you.” With a little wave over her shoulder, she disappeared into her condo.
Devlin entered his own apartment and headed straight for his freezer to check on his stash of cold packs. Guilt claimed his thoughts as he acknowledged a fleeting desire to thank the distracted driver who had finally brought them together.

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