To uncover the truth

she must come back from the dead.

Entering witness protection was supposed to end the threat on Jordan Kendrick’s life and protect her fiancé, Ben Graham—but now an assassin has found her. Ben is the only person she trusts, but he thinks she’s dead. When he learns the truth, can he help her expose her former employer’s deadly crimes…without costing both of them their lives?

KATHLEEN TAILER is a senior attorney II who works for the Supreme Court of Florida in the office of the state courts administrator. She graduated from Florida State University College of Law after earning her BA from the University of New Mexico. She and her husband have eight children, five of whom they adopted from the state of Florida. She enjoys photography and playing drums on the worship team at Calvary Chapel in Thomasville, Georgia.

Also By Kathleen Tailer

Under the Marshal’s Protection

The Reluctant Witness

Perilous Refuge

Quest for Justice

Undercover Jeopardy

Perilous Pursuit

Deadly Cover-Up

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Deadly Cover-Up

Kathleen Tailer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90672-6

DEADLY COVER-UP

© 2020 Kathleen Tailer

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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It was too late.

They were driving straight toward the bridge.

Ben swerved, but he couldn’t shake the SUV tailing them. “Hold on!” he yelled as the SUV rammed into them, flipping their car. They skidded before landing on the guardrail, teetering precariously toward the river below.

Upside down and disoriented, Jordan was afraid to move. She was alive, but for how long?

“Do you see the notebook?” Jordan asked. “I dropped it when we crashed. We can’t let it fall into the river.”

She suddenly heard a ripping sound, and she saw a knife sawing through the airbag by her door. She couldn’t see who had cut away the thin nylon fabric, but she heard a small laugh. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.” An arm reached inside and snatched the notebook. Then the man put his hand on the frame of the car and pushed. “I hope you can swim.”

The metal groaned, and Ben and Jordan could hear it bending and straining against the pull of gravity. Suddenly, the car tilted even farther toward the water, and the metal whined once more before the car careened toward the river below.

I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.

—Philippians 4:13

For my wonderful and ever-growing family: Jim, James, Bethany, Daniel, Keandra, Joshua O’Neal, Jessica, Nathan, Joshua Evan, Anna and Megan. And for all of my friends in Africa who are dedicated to spreading the name of Jesus throughout the land. May God bless all of you!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Introduction

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

Extract

About the Publisher

ONE

The man was still following her.

Jordan Kendrick pretended to read the ingredient list on a box of cereal but was still able to catch a quick glimpse of him in her peripheral vision as she turned the corner and went down a new aisle in the grocery store.

He’d already been watching her for over ten minutes, and the sight of him alone made her skin crawl and anxiety pump through her veins.

Dark hair and eyes. Light skin. He was wearing a University of Florida Gators T-shirt, but even so, she knew he was not a local. She would recognize those eyes anywhere. They were empty, and she noticed the same cold and vacant look from when he had tried to kill her in South Carolina. Jordan put a package of cheese and a couple of yogurts in her basket, then moved slowly to the next aisle. She glanced at him again, trying to appear nonchalant, even though adrenaline was coursing through her as the fear increased. The man had his own basket in his hand. He put a box or can of food in it every once in a while, but he was clearly just watching her and not shopping for his next meal.

Jordan hadn’t wanted to go out today, but her pantries were bare, and she’d desperately needed to buy groceries. Living on the run was no picnic, and constantly watching her surroundings to make sure she was safe was beginning to take a toll on her. Dark circles had formed under Jordan’s eyes, and she had lost several pounds, as the stress had eaten away at her stomach. Still, she had to eat something.

She couldn’t figure out how the man had found her. She had been so careful, and she was bone weary from playing this cat and mouse game in the first place. Now she couldn’t even go back to the small room she had rented. For all she knew, this man knew where she lived and had followed her when she’d left the building. Jordan knew he would stop at nothing until he had eliminated her from the face of the earth.

How was she going to survive this latest threat?

The man was wearing a thin jacket, even though it was over ninety degrees outside, and when he leaned forward to pick up an apple from the produce section, she got a glimpse of the pistol he had tucked into his waistband. He was there to kill her. She had no doubt about it. He was just biding his time, waiting for the right opportunity when there wouldn’t be any witnesses to catch him in the act.

Jordan glanced up at the ceiling, noting where the cameras were located and hoping that at least one of them had recorded her pursuer’s face. If she was going to lose her life, she at least wanted the man captured after the fact. Her colleagues had already been killed, yet to date, no one had been charged.

A moment of indecision held her frozen for a few moments as she contemplated her next move. She couldn’t stand in the produce section forever, but she didn’t know where else to go. She couldn’t go into the bathroom at the back of the store. If she did, he would surely follow her in and kill her in the quiet of the stockroom where there were no other people or cameras. Her only hope was to stay in a populated area until she could slip away into the crowd. The only problem was, the store was slowly emptying and there were only a few customers left amongst the aisles. For all she knew, her pursuer might have disabled any cameras that existed before he had even entered the store, and he might try to kill her as soon as they were alone. She could approach someone that worked in the store, but how could they possibly protect her against a man with a gun? She hadn’t seen a security guard anywhere, but even if one appeared, she doubted a part-timer would be able to really help. In fact, it would probably just put the guard’s life at risk, as well. This man was a professional. He was a serious threat, and she really didn’t want anyone else hurt because of her.

She had to get out of there. Now. But how?

She came to the end of her aisle that was close to the registers, and finally, an idea hit her. There was a large display of canned goods on the endcap. What she needed was a good distraction. She surreptitiously hit the bottom row with her foot, then scrambled out of the way as the entire tower of soup cans crashed to the ground. The noise was deafening, but it hardly registered as she dropped her basket and ran toward the exit as fast as her feet could carry her.

“Hey, lady, stop!” the cashier yelled as she passed, but Jordan was too scared to heed her instructions, or to even look behind her to see how close the assassin was. A wall of sticky humidity hit her as she burst outside under the Florida sunshine, and she could smell the summer rain that had just left a sheen of moisture everywhere she looked. She made it to the parking lot, then scrambled between a jeep and a large pickup truck and instantly bent down, trying to hide between the two vehicles. Her breathing was coming in gasps, and she leaned against the truck for a moment, trying to catch her breath. Thankfully, even though there were a few people walking around in the parking lot, nobody seemed to be paying any attention to her. She glanced back over her shoulder. It didn’t look like anyone had follow her out of the store.

She glanced at the sky. It was about five or so in the evening, and it wasn’t nearly dark enough outside to cover her escape, even with the passing storm clouds. She made a mental note to only shop when it was dark from now on…if she survived this attack in the first place.

She heard a couple arguing near their car, and another car drove into a nearby parking spot with the radio blaring. She crouched and moved both farther away from the Jeep and farther away from the store, using the various cars as cover for her getaway, hoping that the noise and the movements in the parking lot would distract her pursuer.

He found her, anyway.

The first bullet ripped into the rear fender of the car that she had been leaning against, only inches from her cheek. It left a jagged hole in the metal, as did his second shot that hit the vehicle a scant inch from the first. The impacts made very little noise, but she felt both bullets whiz by her head. Her pursuer must be using a silencer, she thought fleetingly. She ducked instantly, right as the third bullet hit the side door panel of the car about eight inches higher. She let out a yelp and hit the ground, ignoring the small wet pebbles and dirt that were embedding themselves in her skin. Quickly, she rolled under a nearby truck, got back on her feet and started running out of the parking lot and toward the busy street beyond, using the parked cars and trucks as cover the best she could. She dared not look behind her. She was sure she would freeze like a statue if she turned and actually saw how close the assassin was following. If she could just make it to the road and get across it, she might actually survive this encounter. There was a park and several small stores on the other side of the street, as well as groups of people walking and talking as they followed a sidewalk around a small lake. Others were walking pets and playing with small children at a large playground. Surely, she could hide amongst the people if she could just make it to the other side. If not, she was as good as dead.

Dear, God, she prayed silently, please help me get away from this madman with the gun. Show me where to go.

Pain suddenly sliced through her arm, and the impact sent her to her knees and skidding against the pavement. Her breath was coming in gasps. She picked herself up as fast as she could, ignoring the blood that was dripping down her arm and the new scratches on her knees. Her bicep had gotten the worst of it, and the tender flesh felt like it was on fire. She crouched behind a car that was just pulling into the parking lot, using it the best she could for cover as it turned and drove toward the front of the store. She abandoned it after a few seconds and looked quickly into the road, then waved at the coming driver with her good arm as she stepped out into the traffic. She could see the man’s eyes widen as he slammed on the brakes and saw his car skid to the left. The back started jackknifing but she kept moving, causing a car in the next lane to screech to a halt, as well. From there, everything seemed to happen in slow motion. She heard metal crunch as the car was hit from behind, but confusion and yelling ensued, giving her an opportunity to go into the third lane. This car’s driver also slammed on the brakes, but she wasn’t able to avoid the vehicle completely. It had been going in the opposite direction, and she rolled off the hood as it tried to stop without hitting her. Thankfully, Jordan could tell the car’s impact would only leave her with some bruises, and her spike of adrenaline kept this new pain from barely even registering.

She kept running. The next lane was clear, and she darted into the city park, aiming to use one of the many live oaks for cover. She heard a sickening thud behind her and finally took a moment to stop and glance over her shoulder. Her pursuer had been struck by a black Prius and was lying prone on the road. His gun had flown from his hand and was on the pavement a few feet from his outstretched fingers. Horns were honking, and several people had gotten out of their vehicles and were coming up to the man to check on him. They were so focused on the victim lying in the street that no one spoke to her or even glanced in her direction. She didn’t wait to see what happened next. She turned and continued to run into the park, her good hand grasping her injured arm above the elbow where the bullet had hit.

She came upon a couple of teams playing softball in a sports field, and both had good-sized audiences cheering them on, despite the inclement weather. She turned right, avoiding the game and the people. Now that the man was no longer chasing her, she didn’t want to be remembered by anyone along her path, and she imagined that a woman bleeding from a gunshot wound would definitely stick in a person’s memory. Any Good Samaritan would also want to take her to the hospital, but that was simply too dangerous. Not only would that make it easier for enemies to find her, but the doctor would also report the incident to the police, and she already knew the police couldn’t help her.

Where could she go now? How had the assassin found her? She didn’t know where she had made a mistake, but she couldn’t afford to make another one. Even if the man in the road died, there would be others.

What should she do?

She stopped running and leaned against another tree, trying to catch her breath. It was still coming in gasps, and she leaned over, her stomach retching. Surely, the man had died in the road. Even though he had been trying to kill her, she hadn’t wanted him dead. She sank down farther against the base of the tree, finally ending up on the ground as she fought the nausea. Eventually, a semblance of normalcy returned, and her eyes closed for a moment as she considered her next move. Gingerly, she pulled her fingers away from her wounded arm, trying to assess the damage. The pain was intense, but it wasn’t just her arm that was hurting. The fear that swept over her was almost debilitating. She couldn’t stop the tears that suddenly began to flow down her cheeks. She had survived this latest encounter, but would she survive the next? What should she do? She was at the end of her rope.

She started to pray.

Ben Graham was so emotionally drained that he didn’t feel like cooking, so he drove through his favorite fast-food chicken restaurant for a grilled-chicken sandwich, fries and a tall cup of lemonade and ate while he maneuvered through the streets. He parked in his driveway and headed inside his house, a small two-bedroom bungalow that was a few streets away from the beach. It wasn’t fancy, but what his house lacked in style was made up for by its proximity to the ocean. He realized he could probably never afford beachfront property on his salary, but this small house’s location made it possible for him to run on the beach nearly every morning before he headed to the office. During those early morning hours, there was rarely anyone near the water, so he enjoyed the peace and quiet, as well as many beautiful sunrises, as he watched the sun light up the Atlantic Ocean each day.

He made his way inside and dropped his dinner trash in the kitchen bin, then went into the living room and pulled his gun out of the holster and laid it on the end table. He wearily sat down on the couch, his thoughts in chaos. What a day this had been! He leaned back for a moment and closed his eyes, once again going over the arrest he had made earlier that afternoon while on duty as a deputy with the Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office. The man had started off as a prescription drug abuser and had rapidly become a “frequent flyer.” He had been arrested several times during the last year for illegal drug use, but he just couldn’t break the habit. This time, he had been near death when they found him suffering from an overdose of heroin in a deserted alley. Knowing his history, they quickly administered Narcan, a drug that counteracted the effects of the opioid. The Narcan helped them revive him, and the man instantly started breathing normally again, once the medication had entered his system. Typically, Ben would have waited for the emergency response personnel to administer the restorative medicine, but there simply hadn’t been time to wait. He wondered if the man would survive if he overdosed again. They had found him just in the nick of time, but if he didn’t get clean, Ben didn’t see much hope for his future. The man had a wife and two children, all who would grieve his death if he wasn’t able to kick his horrible drug habit.

“Hello, Ben.”

The voice behind him was soft, but he instantly recognized it, and it sent a shiver down his spine. Nevertheless, he immediately grabbed his pistol, turned and pointed it in the direction of the voice, his eyes quickly focusing on the form who stood a few feet away from his couch. Jordan Kendrick, his fiancée, was dead. She couldn’t be in his house or standing in his living room.

It couldn’t really be her.

He was going crazy. That was it. Dead people didn’t suddenly reappear. Yet, the woman he had loved had suddenly materialized in front of him, right in his living room. And she was not an apparition. So, what was going on? He looked cautiously around his living room, wondering if anyone else was going to pop out of the woodwork. Was somebody playing some sort of sick trick on him?

His gaze returned to the woman, and he took a moment to study her. Jordan’s hair had been darker. This woman was a blond and thinner. Yet, the lady in front of him looked remarkably like his fiancée, who had died tragically in a boating accident a little over nine months ago. Sure, her hair was different, and his fiancée had always worn trendy wire-rimmed glasses, but this woman could be wearing contacts, and a box of hair dye was available just about anywhere for under ten bucks.

Still, it couldn’t be her. His mind told him what his heart refused to accept—Jordan Kendrick was dead. He had edited the obituary himself, attended the funeral and helped her parents sort through her belongings and clean out her apartment. She was gone forever. Wishful thinking couldn’t bring someone back, even if they had been deeply loved. So, who was this woman, and why was she in his house?

“Ben, it’s me. Jordan.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Jordan Kendrick is dead,” he responded, with a touch of menace in his tone. “Who are you?”

TWO

“It’s me, Ben. Really.”

Her voice was the same. Or maybe that was foolish dreaming on his part, as well. Jordan Kendrick had been the love of his life, and even though he knew she was dead and gone, his heart still fluttered at the possibility of her still being alive. He would give anything to hold her one last time. They had never actually found her body in the ocean, although the boat she’d been sailing in had capsized about thirty miles offshore. There had been no evidence of foul play, either, and the authorities had done a search-and-rescue operation for five days before calling it quits and declaring her dead.

He slowly stood, keeping his gun trained on her midriff. “It can’t be. Jordan Kendrick was killed in a boating accident nine months ago.” Still, a large part of him wanted this to be Jordan so badly. She had been so vibrant, so full of life. There was a giant hole in his heart ever since her death—one that he didn’t feel like he could ever fill again. Seeing someone that looked like her brought a new flash of pain that swept over him from head to toe, reminding him of his loss.

Even though Jordan had been gone for nine months, Ben was still grieving. Maybe it was easier for those left behind when there was a body to mourn and bury. Maybe if he’d seen the damaged boat in person or been with her when she had gone overboard, he would have been able to get past the heartache that still seemed to overwhelm him from time to time in the oddest places. Even last week, he had been walking down the aisle at the supermarket and had been suddenly overcome with a sense of loss, just at the sight of her favorite sweet in the candy aisle. Grief was funny that way. Just when he thought he had a handle on it, some unexpected memory would trigger the pain and sorrow all over again. He hoped that time would erase those feelings, or at least lessen them so they wouldn’t be so intense, but he was still overcome at times.

Now, all of those feelings were back in full force and hitting him all at once.

“It’s really me, Ben,” the woman said softly, her voice breaking into his reverie. “I promise. Remember how we used to picnic on the beach and you used to go diving for spiny lobster while I stayed on shore, reading the latest romance novel?”

He shook his head. “Plenty of people do that.”

“Do plenty of people stop in the middle of grabbing lobsters to arrest a guy for taking fourteen lobsters over the limit?”

Her question astounded him. Few people knew about that arrest. He usually didn’t bother with marine violations since the Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission or the coast guard kept most folks in compliance with the law, but that particular lobster violation had really bothered him, so he had made the stop. The perpetrator had turned out to be a high-powered congressman from New York State with plenty of pull—so much so that he had managed to keep the arrest out of the news. The politician had paid a large fine and quietly returned to his home state.

Ben raised an eyebrow as his stomach did a flip-flop. Could it be true? Was Jordan Kendrick still alive? Part of him wanted to believe it, yet he had so many questions, and pain inundated him from head to toe. If she had been alive all this time, why hadn’t she contacted him? Had Jordan or someone else faked her death? Why would she do it? What frightful necessity would have driven her to such lengths?

Was the love they’d shared real or just a fallacy?

He watched her shift from one foot to another. She was uncomfortable, too. When she spoke, her voice trembled. “Remember when I cooked those ribs on the grill, and I completely burned them up? Flames were shooting out of the grill, and you rushed out and drenched the charcoal, convinced I was about to burn your house down. By the time we got the mess cleaned up, the rest of the food was also ruined. We ended up going out to eat at that barbeque place you like so much—Robbie’s, the restaurant on Pine Street down in Palm Valley. We were nearly starving by the time we arrived, and I’d never seen you eat so much. Then we went back to my place and watched old black-and-white movies until midnight. Despite the fire, it turned out to be one fantastic evening.”

It was her.

Nobody else would know those details. Jordan was alive! Ben felt his heartbeat accelerate, and the sound seemed to be roaring in his ears. He stood there motionless for several seconds as the fact that she hadn’t died nine months ago washed over him. “Where have you been? How can this be true?” He took a step forward.

She took a step back and put up her hands. “I’m alone, I promise. And unarmed. Can you put that gun down?”

Ben quickly engaged the safety and laid the weapon on the table. He wanted to reach for her and pull her into his arms, but he instantly sensed that she wouldn’t welcome his embrace. He wasn’t even sure if she would allow his touch. She seemed poised to run and was acting like a terrified rabbit being chased through a forest. Her eyes were wide, and he noticed blood on her arm and shirt. How had she gotten injured? His heart continued to beat frantically against his chest, and he took another step toward her.

She jerked and took a step back. Her eyes darted around the room, apparently seeking a quick retreat, and her features showed her insecurity and doubt. Her hands fisted and unfisted as if she couldn’t quite stand still. Was she going to bolt, now that she had finally approached him?

He sensed her hesitance and fear, and he put up his hands in a motion of surrender. When he spoke, he kept his voice soft, almost like a whisper. “Is it really you?” he asked again, still not quite believing it.

“Yeah, it’s me. I promise.”

Even though she wouldn’t let him touch her, his eyes consumed her. She had changed so much. A wariness covered her face that worried him, and fine lines of stress were clearly visible around her eyes and mouth. The weight loss made her cheekbones more prominent, but her lips were still full and elegant. Her clothes were stained and torn, and her hands had started shaking. He could see that her nails were shredded, and she had several scrapes on her hands and knees. Still, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. His heart fluttered, and he slowly dropped his hands.

“How are you alive?” he whispered.

“It’s a long story.”

A host of emotions played across his chest. Why had she deceived him? And why had she waited nine months before contacting him? Anger bubbled to the surface before he could stop it. “A long story? Really? I spoke at your funeral nine months ago and now you appear out of nowhere and say hello like we were passing acquaintances? I thought you were dead!”

She backed even farther away from him until she was almost in the corner, and he instantly regretted letting the anger escape. He might be justified in his ire, but Jordan had always been a caring and loving woman. There had to be a good reason for what she’d done. He needed to give her the benefit of the doubt, at least until he knew what had happened and she’d had a chance to explain.

She bit her bottom lip, a motion that was pure Jordan and so familiar to him. His whole body felt like it was on the verge of exploding. How was she here, standing in front of him? His brain still couldn’t seem to comprehend it. Yet, here she was, living and breathing right in his living room, and apparently scared to death about something or someone by the way she was acting. He tried again, softening his voice. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to yell. This is just a bit hard for me to process.” He rubbed the back of his neck in frustration and lowered his voice even further. He wanted to touch her so badly. “How?” he stammered. “How are you here? How are you alive?”

She glanced around the room as if verifying the exits, and he could see her wide blue eyes. Only they weren’t blue—they were brown now. She was definitely wearing contacts. But her high thin eyebrows and perky nose hadn’t changed, and the sprinkle of freckles was still scattered across her face. However, there were dark splashes under her eyes that looked stress-induced, and her skin had lost its healthy tone. He took another step forward, and finally she didn’t retreat as he advanced. He moved slowly, purposefully, and reached over and lightly touched her face with the pads of his fingers. This time, she didn’t back away. Soft skin met his trembling fingertips. Yes, she was definitely real. And she smelled like Jordan—a sweet mixture of lavender and mint. His heart was beating so hard it felt like a bass drum in his chest. Could this really be happening? Could the love of his life really still be alive and standing before him?

Jordan covered his large hand with her smaller one and squeezed it, then glanced around nervously, again making sure they were alone and nobody had followed her. She knew it would be hard on Ben if she decided to approach him, and now she had to give him time to accept it. Still, she wasn’t happy about bringing him into her problems, and doing so was causing her a great deal of angst. Only nine short months ago, they had been planning their wedding. Now she was on the run and her life was in danger, and she had just put Ben’s life in danger as well by coming back into his life. It didn’t sit well with her, but she had run out of options.

Seeing Ben again did funny things to her insides. She still loved him, and she missed him terribly. Losing him had been her biggest regret when the US Marshals had helped her fake her death and enter the witness protection program. She had joined in the first place to protect him, and she still thought she had made the right decision at the time. Ben had believed she was gone forever, but that had been a small price to pay to keep him safe. Yet now, everything had changed. She was still being hunted, and she had no doubt that even though the man that had chased her at the grocery store had died, there would be others not far behind. The marshals who had promised to protect her had failed miserably, and she was out of options. She’d left the safe house in South Carolina and returned to Jacksonville, Florida, where all of her problems had originated in the first place. She’d purposefully made the choice to come home so she could continue investigating her case, but the decision to return still caused knots in her insides. She didn’t want to put Ben in danger again, but the threat against her was very real and growing exponentially, and she didn’t know what else to do.

Jordan ran her hands up and down her arms in a halfhearted motion of comfort. She was scared, even more so now than nine months ago when this all began. She was a scientist, not a law enforcement officer. The foe she faced was malevolent and powerful. Could a lone sheriff’s deputy really do anything to stop the wave of terror that was filling her life? She bit her bottom lip, trying to calm the battle that was raging within her. Ben was good at his job—very good. She had seen him accomplish amazing things within his unit and help a lot of people. They had dated for over a year, and she felt like she had really gotten to know him during that time. Ben was amazing. He was caring and honest. He was the love of her life, and in her book, the most attractive man on the planet. But he was only one man. And she didn’t want him dead.

She was assailed by doubts. She had made a mistake. She should never have come to Ben’s house today. She needed to face these problems on her own—not drag Ben into them with her. She was strong and capable, and she just needed more time to think everything through. Her eyes darted to the door, and she turned, ready to run.

“Don’t go,” Ben said firmly.

Jordan turned back and glanced into his eyes. She saw a host of emotions all swimming together in those brown depths, but confusion and caring trumped them all. The confidence she saw was almost her undoing. She was completely terrified and didn’t know where else to turn. And she was fooling herself. She wasn’t able to do this on her own. She hadn’t seen anyone following her to his house, but she still didn’t feel comfortable staying out in the open for very long. She needed to disappear, but since WITSEC was no longer a possibility, she definitely needed Ben’s help. She had no choice. She had nowhere else to go.

Would Ben help her? She refused to guess at his feelings. His expression alone showed how truly overwhelmed he was by her appearance. Still, he had loved her once. But she had lost the ability to read him or tell what he was thinking. She hoped he would help, but she wasn’t banking on his cooperation.

She let out a breath. “I don’t know if we can talk here. It might not be safe.” She stepped back, glanced out the living room window, then pulled the curtains closed so that no one could see in.

He raised his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

“My life is in danger, Ben. That’s why I disappeared in the first place. I’ve been in the federal witness protection program ever since the boating accident.”

He shook his head, surprise splashed across his features. “WITSEC? Why? I don’t understand. I had no idea. I mean, I know you were having some problems at the lab, but nothing that was so bad it would force you into hiding…”

“They’ll come after you, too, if they see us together. I… I didn’t want to put you in danger.” She looked back at his face, which had been so dear to her. It was filled with confusion and hurt. His expression and her internal battles nearly overwhelmed her with the desire to throw herself into his arms and seek refuge in his embrace. She had always felt safe and secure around Ben. He was a big bear of a man, with broad shoulders and an athletic build that made it seem like he could handle whatever the world threw at him.

Yet, once again, doubts assailed her. This was wrong. She should have found a different way. Whether he could handle it or not, she had no right to drag him into the middle of her problems. She still had a little money left. Perhaps the solution was simply leaving Florida altogether and never coming back. If she left now, her case would never be resolved, but at least she would still have her life.

She paced a bit, still unsure.

Up until now, she’d always been good at solving her own difficulties. She would just have to do it once more. She was smart and creative. She’d graduated at the top of her class for her bachelor’s degree and had earned the top marks for her master’s and doctorate degrees, as well. Yet, after nine months, she was no closer to fixing her problems than she had been on that fateful day when she had gone into WITSEC in the first place. Being smart didn’t make her invincible. And she needed help. Desperately.

What should she do? The question ate at her and made her stomach twist in knots. As her emotions played tug-of-war, she met Ben’s eyes once more, but the pain and confusion she saw in his eyes was her undoing. “I shouldn’t be here. This was a mistake—a big one,” she murmured. Her eyes darted around the room one last time, and she started heading toward the back door.

THREE

Ben moved to block her, his voice firm. “No, this wasn’t a mistake. Now that I know you’re really alive, if you run, I’ll find you. That’s a promise. But you can save me the trouble. Tell me what’s going on, Jordie. Let me in.”

“I can’t.” Jordan took a few more steps but he grasped her arm and stopped her. Although he wasn’t holding her tightly, she cried out at his touch. Without realizing it, his hand was only a few inches from her wound.

He loosened his grip but didn’t let go completely and moved closer so he could examine her arm. “Good grief! You’ve been shot!” He shifted his hold but still didn’t release her and gently led her back toward his bathroom. She blew out a frustrated breath, but finally gave in to his tender urging. He flipped on the light, then reached under the sink and pulled out a first aid kit. “We need to get you to a hospital,” he said softly, caring in his voice.

“No. I won’t go.”

“That’s crazy!” he said vehemently, yet still his voice was hushed. “You need medical attention.”

“They require proof of identity and money, both of which I don’t have.”

“I’ll pay,” Ben responded quickly. More doubt filled her mind. Her enemies would definitely find her and kill her if she walked through the doors of a hospital. Hospitals also kept records and were forced to report bullet wounds. Sure, they had rules about confidentiality, but those rules couldn’t protect her. Her adversary was just too powerful. She glanced nervously around the small bathroom. She should leave. Now. Somehow, she would figure a way out of this herself. “No,” she said forcefully. “I’m not going to any hospital. I’ll take care of it. I really am sorry I bothered you.” She tried to keep the desperation from her voice, but she heard it quaver.

Ben quickly raised his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, Jordan. You win. We’ll do it your way.” He took a step forward as if he was going to take her in his arms, but she stiffened, and her reaction stopped him. She wouldn’t meet his eye, so he just stood there, ostensibly waiting for her to acknowledge him. Finally, he touched her chin and gently lifted it until their eyes met.

She would not cry in front of him, she thought fiercely, even though she was suddenly lost in the depths of his chocolate-brown eyes. The caring and concern she saw reflected there was nearly her undoing.

Somehow, he seemed to understand that now wasn’t the time to push for answers. He turned his focus to her arm, got some hydrogen peroxide and cotton balls and lightly started cleaning her wound. He continued in silence for several minutes, his touch comforting. When he finally did speak, his voice was calm and soft, almost soothing.

“So, it looks like the bullet went straight through. You’ve got an entrance wound here, and an exit wound here.” He touched her skin gently, showing her. “As far as bullet wounds go, this is a pretty simple one that looks like it just did some basic muscle damage. It missed the bone completely. It’s gonna hurt for a while, but you’ll heal up in a few weeks or so.” He put some antibiotic on both wounds, then pulled the skin closed with butterfly bandages. “You should still get it checked by a medical professional. I’m no doctor. If you get stitches, the scar won’t be as bad, but you’d have to get them pretty soon.” She said nothing, not wanting to argue, and thankfully he let the subject drop.

He finished by wrapping gauze around her arm and gently taping the end. Then he cleaned and bandaged her scraped knees and hands, frowning at the bruises he saw on her legs. Finally, he handed her a few extra bandages and the small tube of antibiotic for later, and she pocketed them. “I’ve got some pain reliever in the kitchen. How about we go get some for you?”

She nodded, finally feeling comfortable enough to relax a bit under Ben’s ministrations. Her arm really did hurt, but it was the least of her worries. The stress and fear that she had been carrying for the last several months suddenly overcame her, and all she wanted to do was crawl into a hole and disappear. At least she was somewhat safe for the moment and Ben was nearby. She let him lead her into the kitchen, where he gave her some ibuprofen and a glass of water.

“You need to eat something when you take that medicine so it won’t hurt your stomach. What can I fix you?”

His tone was kind, and his offer sincere, but she didn’t feel hungry. What she felt was tired. Her lack of sleep and constant vigilance were catching up to her. Still, she recognized the truth in his words and didn’t want to deal with a stomachache on top of everything else.

“Maybe just something simple. Do you have any crackers and peanut butter? I know how much you love that snack.”

He nodded and pulled out a sleeve of wheat crackers, a knife and a half-eaten jar of creamy peanut butter. Ben could put peanut butter on anything and ate it by the spoonful when they had been dating. Those were fond memories. He liked the natural variety that didn’t have any added ingredients but the peanuts themselves, and she had ditched her old brand and started buying the same jar, simply to have some on hand whenever he was around. After a few months, she had learned to love it almost as much as he did.

She slathered a couple of crackers in the sticky stuff and looked up as she took her first bite. He was still watching her every move, but his eyes held some undefinable emotion that she couldn’t quite pin down. There was a time when she had been able to read him like a book, but that was before she had led him on such an emotional roller coaster. She wondered fleetingly if he could ever forgive her for her actions. She took another bite, pushing that thought aside for now. At this point, survival had to come first. Everything else had to wait.

“You’re about to fall down with exhaustion, Jordan. You’re safe here. I’ll make sure of it. Why don’t you sleep for a while? We can talk after you’ve had a chance to rest.” He drew his lips into a thin line. “You can have the guest bedroom. The sheets are clean. I promise.”

She bit her bottom lip again as she considered his offer, then finished off her crackers. She couldn’t go on much longer without sleep, and she really had nowhere else to go. “I do need some sleep, Ben, but you have to promise me you won’t tell anyone that I’m here. I’ve already put you in danger just by coming to your house. I don’t want to put anybody else’s life in jeopardy, too.”

Ben stood up a little straighter. “I am a law enforcement officer, you know. I work with a good bunch of deputies. Whatever you’re facing, we can help….”

“No.” She steeled her voice. “If you can’t promise me, then I can’t stay. Those are my terms. I feel guilty enough already for involving you.”

He took a step back and put up his hands again. Apparently, he realized that arguing was futile, at least at this point. “Alright, Jordan. We’re going to play by your rules. For now, that is, until you tell me what’s going on and we talk it through.”

“Thank you, Ben.” She nodded her head, trying to keep the weariness at bay. “Sleep sounds good. I promise I’ll explain everything as soon as I rest a bit.” She was tempted to give him a kiss on the cheek but decided against it. She had hurt him terribly, and she no longer had the right to kiss him or even show him affection. For all she knew, he had moved on and was dating someone new. The last thing she wanted to do was cause a rift in any relationship he was pursuing on top of everything else. The idea of him with someone different was a painful one, however, and a wave of jealousy swept over her that she hadn’t expected. She was so tired. Every emotion she was feeling was amplified by ten.

She needed rest. She’d been to his house several times when they were dating, so she knew the layout. She gave him one last smile, then padded back to the bedroom he’d offered and was asleep within minutes of her head touching the pillow.

Ben stood in the doorway, watching Jordan sleep. He couldn’t believe how drastically his life had changed in the last few hours. She was alive! Yet, she was a shadow of her former self and filled with fear and apprehension. It hurt his heart to see the condition she was in, and the way she kept pushing him away every time he tried to reach out. She was obviously terrified of something or someone, and his first instinct had been to call on his team at the Sheriff’s Office. But he hadn’t. He wanted to respect her wishes, at least for now, until he truly understood whatever danger she was facing. There would be plenty of time to call later after they had a long talk and she explained everything. Besides, Jordan was very independent and always tried to solve her own problems. Her enemy must be powerful indeed, if she had gone so far as to leave the safety of WITSEC and reach out to him for help. He knew instinctively that if he broke his word and called his team before she was ready, he would break the tenuous connection they currently had between them, and that was the last thing he wanted.

Ben took a deep breath and stretched, trying to ease some of the tension that had settled across his shoulder blades. He considered going to bed himself, even though it was a tad early, but he didn’t think he could sleep, knowing Jordan was alive and in his house. There were too many unanswered questions spinning around in his mind. Who had shot her? And what if she woke up, had second thoughts and decided to disappear again? She’d already tried to leave a couple of times during their short conversation. He just couldn’t allow that to happen—not after he had just gotten her back. He’d meant what he’d said, too—now that he knew she was alive, if she disappeared on him again, he wouldn’t stop looking until he found her.

The solution was simple. He turned on the light in his hallway, grabbed the latest Lee Child book that he was reading and his sidearm, and sank down onto the floor, right outside her door. He leaned his head back against the doorjamb and blew out a breath. There was only one way for someone to hurt Jordan on his watch, and that would be by crawling over his body. There was a bedroom window, but it was tightly locked, and he was a light sleeper. If he did manage to snooze, he would definitely wake up if someone tried to open the window or sneak by him. Since she was so scared of something or someone, maybe when she woke up she would feel more at ease knowing that he was here, right outside the doorway with his weapon, protecting her.

Dear, God, help me know how to help Jordan. Please let her get the rest she needs and help her to trust me so I can do my best to get her out of whatever mess she’s in. Thank you for bringing her back to me. Amen.

The prayer was short but heartfelt. His faith was strong. He knew God was faithful and would help them with whatever they were facing. He turned his head and let his eyes roam over Jordan’s face, remembering every detail. She was still sleeping soundly. He felt like he could watch her sleep all night. As relieved as he was that she was alive and back in his life, he was also wondering how he could ever trust her again. He knew the WITSEC rules, but although she had mentioned some problems at work before her disappearance, she’d never given any indication that she was mixed up with something as dangerous as a federal crime that required witness protection. Why hadn’t she told him? Had he ever really known her? He shifted. Even if they were able to solve whatever problems she was facing, it would be quite a while before he would be able to stop worrying that she was going to disappear without a trace a second time, just like she had nine months ago.

Ben closed his eyes for moment and took a breath. She must have been planning her disappearance for several days before her alleged death. He opened his eyes and rubbed them. How had he missed this? He’d thought he really knew her. If she had been facing something of that magnitude, he should have been able to tell.

He glanced at her again. Why has she reappeared now? And why had she disappeared in the first place? Part of him wanted to wake her up right now just so he could get the answers to the dozens of questions that were flying around in his head, but he held back. He knew she needed rest. He was just going to have to be patient and wait. He studied her face, peaceful in sleep, memorizing every detail.

Could he ever trust her again?

FOUR

Jordan awoke with a start. Where was she? She had been dreaming, but all she remembered was a sense of fear and desperation. The rest was a blur. She blinked the remnants away and took in her surroundings. The room was dark, yet the light from the hallway illuminated Ben’s figure that was right outside the doorway. He was dozing, his chin near his chest, a novel with a bookmark sticking out still sitting by his right hand and his pistol only a few inches away. He looked terribly uncomfortable, yet peaceful at the same time. She rose up on her elbows, listening carefully, but she didn’t hear any other noises except cicadas chirping outside and Ben’s steady breathing. The clock on the bedside table said it was a little after midnight. Her stomach growled, reminding her just how long ago she had eaten those crackers and peanut butter, and how little she had eaten the day before.

“Sounds like you’re hungry,” Ben said softly.

She snapped her head in his direction and was surprised to see him move and adjust his position. Slowly, he turned and looked at her. She was amazed that he was awake, and he reminded her of a bear coming out of hibernation—powerful yet deceptively languid. Her stomach growled again, and she grimaced. “I haven’t been eating regularly. I guess my body isn’t too happy about it.”

“Feel like talking, or would you like to eat something first?”

“Food can wait.” She sat up. “Are you guarding the door so I don’t leave while you’re sleeping?”

He shrugged and turned so now he was partly in the room. “I’m keeping the bad guys out for you. I wanted to make sure you felt safe and got some of the rest you needed.”

She wasn’t sure that was the only reason, but she let his comment go, appreciating the fact that he was taking her fears seriously. She got out of the bed and sat on the floor in front of him so they were eye to eye, then leaned against the bed as if it were a backrest. She pulled up one knee and looped her arms around it. It was a common pose. When they had been dating, they’d spent many hours sitting on a blanket at the beach, picnicking and talking for hours. Being near the water was one of Ben’s passions, and Jordan had shared that love of the ocean with him. “So how have you been?”

He raised his eyebrow, apparently surprised at her innocuous question, but he finally shrugged. “Lonely. You left a big hole in my heart. I’m still grieving your loss.”

She hadn’t expected such a truthful, heartfelt answer. She didn’t see condemnation in his features, but the pain was clearly written across his face. “I’m so sorry I hurt you, Ben. That was not my goal, I promise you.”

He waited silently for her to continue, apparently not trusting himself to speak.

It was time. And maybe by talking through her problems, she could avoid discussing the emotions that were so painful to wade through. She took a deep breath. “So, you know I was working at Southeastern Labs for the last few years in their research-and-development department. We had several trials going on with various drugs. I was working on a new medicine for migraines called Mintax. It’s a neurological drug, and we were studying the effects it had on the brain. Migraines are still largely a mystery, even though millions of people suffer with them—they’re even chronic in a large population. If we could discover a cure, we could make Southeastern millions and help people all over the world. Of course, the team was sworn to secrecy, and we weren’t allowed to discuss the drug with anyone outside of Southeastern. Big Pharma is highly competitive, and spies have been known to poach formulas. The more we worked, the tighter the security became.”

Ben nodded. “Yeah, I remember that you mentioned Mintax, but you couldn’t tell me any details about the drug. I also remember that they were keeping you at the lab for long hours before you disappeared.”

“Well, as we worked, we discovered that Mintax has some very unusual properties. The chemical compound is odorless, tasteless and virtually impossible to detect in the human body after it is consumed. It’s even harder to find than those steroids the athletes keep trying to use to enhance their performance. After several hours, it doesn’t show up in regular toxicology screens, even when taken in higher doses.” She leaned forward. “But there is more. We discovered that Mintax doesn’t do much for migraines after all, except for in a very small percentage of users. On top of that, in certain populations, it causes seizures and even death.”

Ben raised an eyebrow. “It kills people? Are you kidding?”

“No, it’s definitely not a joke. If given in the right dose, a person with various preexisting medical issues can go into seizures within about thirty minutes or so of taking the medication, depending upon certain variables, like body weight, metabolic levels, preexisting medical conditions—you know, the normal contingencies. Of those, about thirty-two percent of them die. Southeastern called that number significant. I call it appalling. Then, once the seizures stop, it’s virtually impossible to prove that Mintax was the cause.”

“So didn’t Southeastern need to stop the drug testing and go back to the drawing board before more people got hurt?”

Jordan nodded. “That’s what should have happened, but it didn’t. Hence my problem. Southeastern spent a fortune developing Mintax, and they couldn’t afford to go back to the drawing board. It obviously won’t cure migraines for the masses as they’d hoped, so there was no future revenue available to help the company recoup their costs, and they didn’t have any other big drug trials warming up in the bull pen. You have to understand, they put everything they had into the Mintax program—literally all of their eggs were in one basket. They are testing some other drugs, but nothing on the scale of Mintax. In fact, the migraine medication should never have made it to human trials in the first place, but once it did, they couldn’t afford to stop. On top of everything else, I think Southeastern might be having financial problems. Do you remember Sam Delvers, the CEO of the company?”

Ben nodded. “By reputation only. I’ve never met the man.”

“Well, at first, he would come down to the research-and-development section once every quarter or so, and my boss would take him around on a tour of the floor and give him updates on all of our research. Mr. Delvers has always been a hands-on kind of boss, wanting to see everything for himself rather than just relying on reports and projections. Once the Mintax trials began, he started showing up weekly—and then daily once we moved from testing on animals to testing on humans. But we weren’t testing on normal segments of the population. My boss discovered Southeastern was using the homeless and single people without families that wouldn’t be missed. They were doing extensive background checks on the people who were testing the drug, so if a death did occur, it could easily be covered up. It also meant they could fudge the numbers, and no one would be the wiser.”

Ben shifted. “How did Southeastern get permission from the FDA to go to human trials so quickly? I thought new drugs had a more rigorous testing phase.”

Jordan nodded, pleased that Ben had homed in so quickly on one of the biggest problems in this case. “It’s supposed to. Usually it takes about twelve years and $350 million dollars to get a new drug from the lab to the shelf at your local drugstore. After a new drug is developed, it is tested in the lab for about three and a half years or so before the Food and Drug Administration will let it be tested on humans. If the FDA says it’s okay, then the new drug will enter three different phases of clinical trials. During phase one, they use less than a hundred healthy people to test the drug’s safety. That usually takes a year. Then, during phase two, the sample size goes up to three hundred people, and that group tests the drug’s effectiveness. That takes another two years. During phase three, the sample group can go up to around three thousand, and people in clinics and hospitals try out the drug. They’re supposed to be monitored very carefully to see if the drug is effective and whether or not there are any adverse reactions in the patients. This takes another three years. Then Southeastern would have to submit a new application to the FDA for final approval, which takes another two and half years or so.” She paused and took a breath. “In the case of Mintax, Southeastern obviously leapfrogged some of those steps. After my boss, Jeremy Sparks, discovered that Southeastern was testing on the homeless to avoid liability and lie about the numbers, we both started digging into the paperwork. We found that the FDA approval documents were forged, as well as the effectiveness studies and claims.”

Ben raised an eyebrow. “And you’re sure Delvers knew that the correct procedure wasn’t being followed?”

Jordan shrugged. “I’m not sure, but somebody at the top was pulling those strings. During those last few weeks, Delvers was always around, asking questions. I’m also pretty sure Sparks confronted him. I walked by my boss’s office one evening, and the two were yelling at each other. I heard them mention Mintax. Sparks was also an honest, honorable man. There is no way he would have sanctioned the lies. I’m sure he would have brought them to the attention of the CEO or the board. He wouldn’t have just let it slide. That’s one thing I’m sure of. In fact, Sparks told me he was about to go to the FDA with the forgeries, and with the accurate results from the human trials. He was just trying to track down one or two more documents that supported his case. Then suddenly Sparks disappeared. The next thing I knew, I was reading his obituary in the paper.” She shifted, her arms tightening around her leg. “It turns out Jeremy Sparks died from unexplained seizures, even though he was only in his fifties and didn’t have a history of epilepsy or any other disease that would have caused them.” She paused, the horror of the situation once again settling over her. Finally, she took a deep breath and pushed on. “As far as R & D goes, there were only three of us that were overseeing the Mintax program that could really tie it altogether—Jeremy, myself and Samantha Peretti, who was in charge of the human trials. Everyone else only worked on pieces of the project and really never knew the full extent of what Mintax could or couldn’t do—or the scandal surrounding the trials. After Jeremy was killed, I got scared. I emptied my bank account and thought about running, but I still couldn’t believe that Southeastern would hurt Sparks. I mean, he was a loyal employee, after all. And you don’t usually hear about companies killing off their employees.”

She bit her bottom lip, then continued, “A couple of days later, I decided I needed to talk privately with Samantha and get her take on what had happened to Sparks. She was scared and wasn’t willing to see me at first. Finally, she agreed, and we set an appointment for Thursday morning. Then she died in a car accident that very day on her way into the office. When I heard, at first, I was too terrified to do anything, but then I discovered that Southeastern was cleaning house, and the entire Mintax program was shut down. All of the specimens and reports had suddenly disappeared, as well. It was as if the entire project never even existed. I knew I had to do something. I couldn’t let Southeastern get away with killing Sparks and Samantha, and all of those people that participated in the human trials. I also knew that I had to disappear, too, or I would be the next one in a grave. As soon as I heard about Samantha, I went straight to the US Attorney’s Office, and I’m sure someone followed me. I am convinced I wouldn’t have survived the day if I hadn’t left at that very moment.”

“So what happened?” Ben asked.

“Apparently, Southeastern Labs was already on the US attorney’s radar, and the government had been slowly building a case against the company for fraud, kidnapping and murder due to the illegal testing. Sparks had been working with the prosecution team to help with the case, so when he died, they immediately started looked for another source. After Samantha died, I became that source. They had already planned to talk to me when I walked through their door.”

“What about Southeastern and the financial fallout?” Ben asked. “As you said, they spent a fortune developing Mintax. Even if they shut the program down, the company couldn’t just write the losses off if they didn’t have a drug to show for it—even a failed one.”

Jordan’s lips thinned. “I agree, but I don’t know all of the ins and outs of the financial side of things. I’m not sure how Sam Delvers decided to deal with the losses. I heard something about them trying to produce it in a third world country, but I don’t know if that is true or not. I really don’t know what their final decision was, or how they were planning to survive the financial disaster the drug caused.”

Ben was silent for a long time, and Jordan could tell that he was processing everything that she had told him. It was quite a story, and she realized it sounded far-fetched. Reputable pharmaceutical companies didn’t usually resort to murder to clean up their messes, but there had been a lot going on at Southeastern—a lot she couldn’t explain and was still trying to figure out. She had been high enough in the management hierarchy to know the specifics about Mintax, but not high enough to know how Southeastern had chosen to deal with the various problems the company faced as a result of the drug’s failure.

Ben’s eyes were intense. “So, what happened next? Did you testify against Southeastern? How did it all turn out? I haven’t heard a thing about this on the news.”

“Southeastern had some incredibly talented attorneys that were also unscrupulous. When they deposed me, I felt like I was the criminal. They twisted everything I said. When I finally did testify, I could tell the case wasn’t going well. I don’t know everything that happened because they wouldn’t let me sit in the courtroom during the testimony, but I do know that the case ended up being dropped and the whole situation was basically swept under the rug. The marshals moved me to a midsize town in South Carolina, and then basically ignored me, even when I told them I saw a suspicious man following me on several occasions.” She took a deep breath. “The man I was worried about kept popping up at strange places, and there was no doubt he was going to hurt me. At one point, he even tried to run me off the road.” She shifted uncomfortably. “I knew it was just a matter of time before I ended up like Samantha and Jeremy. I still had some money left, so I came back to Jacksonville. Then yesterday, I saw the same man who tried to kill me in South Carolina. He followed me here.”

Finally, Ben spoke, and she saw raw pain in his eyes. “I still don’t understand why you didn’t come to me when you heard about Sparks’s and Samantha’s deaths—or even before that when you first discovered there was a problem at Southeastern. You must have considered your options and decided what to do before you knocked on the door at the US Attorney’s Office. I work at the Sheriff’s Office. I was your fiancé. I could have protected you. We could have worked through this together. Instead, you disappeared, and I thought you were dead.”

Jordan tensed and pushed some of her hair behind her ear as fear squeezed her stomach. Had her past actions destroyed Ben’s willingness to help her? She knew her story sounded far-fetched, and she was asking him to take a lot on faith. As she watched his face, however, she realized that he did believe her. The problem was that her disappearance had broken his heart. How could she make him understand? She leaned forward and gently touched his arm. “You’re right. I should have. I’m so sorry, and I know words aren’t going to erase how much I hurt you.” She removed her hand and leaned back. “I also know you’re good at your job, and you could have protected me, but I was terrified. I thought that if I involved you, you would become collateral damage when they came after me, or they would come after you, too, once they realized you were a threat.” She bit her bottom lip, then pushed forward. “Two of my colleagues had just been murdered. I wanted to protect you. I didn’t want you killed because of me.”

He took a moment to digest her words, and she could tell that he was still struggling with her explanation. He rubbed his hand across his eyes in a tired, drained motion. Finally, he spoke again. “So what changed? Why are you here now?” She could hear the hurt in his voice, and it fueled the regret she had already been feeling.

“I need help,” she said softly. “I thought I could do this on my own, but I can’t. The marshals wouldn’t help me. And I finally realized you’re the only one that can. Southeastern hurt a lot of people and developed a very nasty drug. They were never held accountable, and I’m the only one who knows it. Now Southeastern wants me dead. I didn’t know what else to do or where else to go.”

Ben was silent again, apparently mulling over her words. Finally, he made a decision. “Tell me what you need.”

She let out a sigh of relief. She had been holding her breath, waiting for his answer, and hadn’t even realized it. “I have to get proof of the Mintax drug and what it can do, and I need to bring that and what they did during the human trials out into the open so we can prove they lied about the drug’s properties. I also need to show that they killed my boss and Samantha. They won’t need to kill me if Mintax and Southeastern’s actions are no longer a secret. But right now, it’s just my word against theirs.”

“And where do you propose we get this proof?”

“That I don’t know. Maybe you can help me track down some people who know more than they think they do. There also has to be something left on Southeastern’s computers, but they revoked my access to their servers.” She shifted. “The company doesn’t like loose ends. Someone there sent that man to kill me yesterday. I’m sure of it. I’ve been renting out a small cottage, but I’ve been afraid to even go out much because I knew they were searching for me.” She tightened her arms around her leg once again. “When I went to the grocery store yesterday, that was the first time I’d left my place in days. When I got to the store, I saw a man following me. I don’t know if he figured out where I was living or not, but I just couldn’t go back and take that chance.”

Ben raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure it was the same man you saw in South Carolina?”

She nodded. “Positive. When I saw him, I ran out of the grocery store, but he followed me and tried to kill me in the parking lot. I managed to escape, but he shot me in my arm, which slowed me down. I ran across the road, and he got hit by a car when he tried to follow me. I think he’s probably dead, but I don’t think it will take them long before they send someone else.”

Suddenly, they both heard the sound of glass breaking. Ben immediately grabbed his pistol and put his finger to his lips, urging her to stay silent. She nodded, her heart beating so loudly she was sure the intruder could hear it.

“Someone’s in the house,” Ben whispered. “Stay here and crawl between the bed and the wall. I’ll be back.”

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