ENEMY WATERS

Chloe Conrad suspects foul play in the plane crash that killed her sister—and she’s determined to hire private investigator Hunter Lawson to prove it. But convincing the former Special Forces operative to help isn’t easy, especially since he blames her family for his sister’s death. Hunter sees something familiar in Chloe’s hunt for justice—and he can’t leave her unprotected when he realizes the killer’s switched focus to her. As they search for clues, he’s beginning to wonder if his enemy’s daughter could be the person who helps him heal from his painful past. But neither of them will have a future unless they find a way to unravel the twisted conspiracy that threatens both their lives…

A dark sedan zoomed by and entered the street side of the parking lot. A window came down. A gun came out.

Hunter saw the gun, glanced at the woman and then did what he had to do. He ran straight for Chloe and tackled her to the ground.

While silenced bullets spewed all around them.

Chloe tried to find air, tried to see over the brawny shoulder that shielded her face. “Let me up,” she said, struggling.

“Stay still!”

He held her there but shifted, still covering her. She heard a motor revving and tires screeching. The car sped away, dirt and rocks flying in its wake. People came out of the restaurant, shouting and talking, pointing to where Hunter and Chloe lay. She’d barely heard the zing from the silencer but the people inside must have seen him diving over her.

“Are they gone?”

He lifted up to stare down at her, his breath warm on her neck. His eyes were a smoky gray that washed her in a questioning darkness. “I think so.”

With over seventy books published and millions in print, LENORA WORTH writes award-winning romance and romantic suspense. Three of her books finaled in the ACFW Carol Awards, and her Love Inspired Suspense novel Body of Evidence became a New York Times bestseller. Her novella in Mistletoe Kisses made her a USA TODAY bestselling author. Lenora goes on adventures with her retired husband, Don, and enjoys reading, baking and shopping…especially shoe shopping.

Lakeside Peril

Lenora Worth

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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Many sorrows shall be to the wicked;

but he who trusts in the Lord, mercy shall surround him.

—Psalms 32:10

To Bennie Riggs and the former Hog Wash Bar and Grill in Oklahoma City.

Many thanks to Glen and Tina Hughes for answering my questions about Oklahoma and oil! This one goes out to the men and women who work on the oil patches all over the world. I appreciate your hard work!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

ONE

Someone was watching him.

He could feel the hair on the back of his neck rising while the purr of his pulse vibrated an all-too-familiar warning.

He never could relax, not really. Not even at a biker dive in the Florida Panhandle where he was trying to mind his own business.

Hunter Lawson took a sip of the club soda dripping with condensation and slowly lifted out of the chair where he sat on the deck of the Hog Wash Rib Joint.

A woman stood outside the open barn doors leading from the interior of the rickety restaurant that mostly accommodated bikers needing to wash their rides, eat some good food and get into a fight every now and then.

She was definitely not a biker chick.

But she stared at him with a determination that meant business. Harmless but lethal, all the same.

Hunter observed people. Doing so was his nature. So he took his time accessing this woman standing in this place. Didn’t match up.

She was serious and svelte. Sleek in a country girl kind of way in her jeans and tan leather jacket. Her boots looked hand-tooled. Her eyes shone a deep golden-brown and her hair—the afternoon sun loved her hair. It was a russet gold that surrounded her face like an intricate frame. The look in her eyes shouted trouble.

Being a private investigator brought him in contact with a lot of interesting people. But this one was different. His gut burned with a hot warning.

“What?” Hunter asked, his hands out.

“I... I need a word with you, Mr. Lawson.”

“Okay.” Hunter motioned to his favorite table on the deck over the Millbrook River. “Step into my office.”

Her expensive-looking boots clicked toward him and in the next instant a dark sedan zoomed by and entered the street side of the parking lot. A window came down. A gun came out.

Hunter saw the gun, glanced at the woman and then did what he had to do. He ran straight for her and tackled her to the ground.

While silenced bullets spewed all around them.

* * *

Chloe tried to find air, tried to see over the brawny shoulder that shielded her face. “Let me up,” she said, struggling.

“Stay still!”

He held her there but shifted, still covering her. She heard a motor revving and tires screeching. The car sped away, dirt and rocks flying in its wake. People came out of the restaurant, shouting and talking, pointing to where Hunter and Chloe lay. She’d barely heard the zing from the silencer, but the people inside must have seen him diving over her.

“Are they gone?”

He lifted himself up to stare down at her, his breath warm on her neck. His eyes a smoky gray that washed her in a questioning darkness. “I think so.”

He sat up and held out his hand to help her do the same. “You okay?”

Chloe wasn’t sure how to answer that. Now that she’d found Hunter Lawson, a slow panic began to set in. What if he recognized her? What if he didn’t even remember her? What if he told her to get lost? And how could she explain to him that someone was trying to kill her?

Taking her quiet for shock, he snapped his fingers in front of her eyes. “Hey, stay with me. Talk to me.”

“I’m fine,” she said, wishing she’d stayed in Oklahoma. Her friend Bridget Winston had tried to warn her that this was a bad idea. “Just a few scrapes and bruises.”

And the imprint of him becoming a human shield still on her heart. He was big and strong and smelled as fresh and earthy as the fall air around them. He looked every bit as mysterious and unapproachable as people had tried to tell her. Dark, inky hair hovered over his collar in choppy, rebellious curls. Tanned, muscular arms and jean-clad legs. Battered cowboy boots. Dark aviator shades that he’d lost somewhere when he’d dived for her. And a concealed weapon tucked against the waist of his jeans.

Chloe had heard rumors regarding this man, but none of them quite lived up to seeing him in the flesh. She rubbed her sweaty palms against her jeans, her heart going into overdrive with each breath she took. Could she convince him to help her?

Please, Lord, let him listen to me.

He stood and helped her up. “Care to explain?”

“In private, yes,” she replied.

People stood around everywhere, some with drinks in their hands. Leather moto jackets and tattoos, beat-up boots and graffiti T-shirts. Women clinging to their men, their gazes moving over her with cool curiosity while their attitudes told her to back off.

“Hunter, you all right, man?”

Hunter nodded to the bartender she’d spoken with earlier. He’d warned her, too. Explained to her that Hunter wasn’t a talker. He only came here to sit out on the deck and watch the river roll by.

Well, her arrival had certainly changed all that.

Hunter glanced at her and then turned back to the bartender. “Yeah. Just someone trying to use me for target practice.” He shrugged. “What else is new?”

“Do I need to call the police?” the burly man asked, his disapproving eyes on Chloe. He gave her a look that blamed her for all this action. And he was right.

“I’ll take care of it,” Hunter replied. Then he turned to Chloe and gave her his own harsh glare. “Just as soon as this nice lady explains to me why someone’s shooting at her.”

Reassuring herself that he wouldn’t remember her because they’d never even met, Chloe swallowed back her trepidations and tried to find her footing. She wasn’t giving up now. Not after making the agonizing decision to come across the country to find him. That shooter was proof of what she already knew.

“Can we go somewhere else and talk in private?” she asked.

He glanced at the crowd. The spectators didn’t seem fazed by gunshots. They moved as one back into the restaurant, laughing and talking. “That depends on what we need to talk about.”

“I want to hire you,” she said, blurting it out because she was afraid the shooter would return. Or that Hunter would tell her to get lost.

He guided her to another table that was hidden from the street by a big weathered fence. “Sit here.” Then he walked to the street side of the deck and looked both ways. Satisfied for now, he turned and stalked back to her. “Let’s start with your name.”

Chloe’s heart rate increased. “Chloe Conrad.”

His expression went from interested to intense, rage boiling up in his eyes. “What did you say?”

“Chloe. My name is Chloe.”

“I heard that part,” Hunter replied, standing. Would he leave her here? “Tell me your last name again.”

She gave him a look of resolve. Followed by a look of disappointment. “Conrad,” she said. “Yes, as in Conrad Oil. But I hope that won’t be a problem.”

His frown darkened, a vein throbbed along his jawline. “Conrad Oil. You’d better believe that’s a problem. Sorry, lady, I’m not for hire.”

Then he dropped a ten by his forgotten drink on the other table and stalked out to his waiting bike.

Chloe couldn’t believe he’d just up and walked away without letting her explain. Marching out to the parking lot, she caught up with him before he cranked the big black motorcycle. “Hey!”

He didn’t move. Just stood there with his back to her, his hands on his hips, his head down.

Chloe swallowed and forged on. “It’s about my sister, Laura. Somebody murdered her. And I’m pretty sure they’re after me now.”

* * *

Hunter stared down at Chloe Conrad, every vein in his body running hot with the sure knowledge that he needed to get on his bike, drive away and never look back.

But he couldn’t do that. He had to understand why she’d come here all the way from Oklahoma to find him of all people. Since they’d just been shot at, he could only assume she was telling the truth. “What makes you think your sister was murdered?”

Her eyes became burnished with relief, but her expression filled with caution. “A small-engine plane she was piloting went down a few months ago. The authorities ruled it as pilot error, but Laura was an experienced pilot. I know something isn’t right, but no one will believe me.”

Her words echoed over Hunter and he remembered the sensation of thinking the same thing when his older sister had died in a car crash over three years ago. Something had not been right about the accident. No one had believed him, either.

At least no one from the Conrad family had believed him.

But he’d proven them all wrong.

“I can’t help you,” he said, the agony of the past hitting him in the gut.

“No,” she said, grabbing his arm to keep him from trying to leave again. “Do not walk away from me. I hired a pilot to fly me down here even though I was afraid to get on a plane after what happened to my sister. I’ve been careful and I did my research. You’re supposed to be the best at what you do and I know you’re licensed in both Florida and Oklahoma, but if you treat all your clients the way you’re treating me, you must have a lot of time to sit around staring at the water. Why won’t you listen to me?”

He heard that. Surprised by the bit of fire that had just exploded inside this pretty package, Hunter glanced down at her soft, warm hand holding on to his wrist with a tight grip. But he still wasn’t convinced that he should be the one to help her. “Those people will come back. You need to get out of here.”

“I can’t leave now,” she said, her voice quiet, defeated. “If I get back in my rental car, they’ll find me and kill me and then there won’t be any justice for Laura. You might hate my father and my stepbrother, but Laura deserves more. A lot more.”

Hunter closed his eyes, willing her to go away. But he couldn’t send her out there to be slaughtered. When he heard a car turning into the drive, he glanced up and saw the same dark sedan. They were back.

He grabbed her and lifted her toward the bike. “Get on,” he said, swinging his leg over the seat. Seeing the panic and fear in her eyes, he reached out for her. “Now!”

She stared at the car for a split second and then hopped on the motorcycle.

“Hold on,” he said over his shoulder.

She wrapped her slender arms around his stomach, causing him to experience a strange, heavy discomfort followed by an acute awareness.

The dark car stopped, idling, the driver watching.

Hunter cranked the bike and took off behind the building and cut through on a side street. He had only minutes before the sedan would find them. So he zigzagged through the back streets and zoomed up and down alleys and driveways before he finally headed out to the one spot where he thought they’d be safe for a while.

He took her to the camp house.

TWO

Hunter didn’t want to talk about anything that had to do with the Conrads, but he was deep into this now. He parked the bike up underneath the fat pilings that held the house sturdy and high off the ground and protected it during storms. Out over the water, a golden sky shimmered against the waves like a lace curtain. The sun was setting off to the west, but it cast out muted rays that turned the horizon into a kaleidoscope of color.

“We should be okay here for a while,” he said as he helped Chloe off the motorcycle. She felt light in his arms, but the darkness in her eyes told of her exhaustion. “This place is secluded and off the beaten path.”

Hunter knew he needed to help her. It was that simple.

But oh, so complicated. It went against every cell in his body to help anyone connected to the powerful Conrad family. This would be a betrayal of his sister’s memory.

“Where are we?” she asked, glancing around at the fishing gear, four-wheelers and boats stored underneath the broad, square wooden house. She tossed her hair away and straightened her heavy leather jacket.

“We call it AWOL,” he said. “It’s a man cave I own with three of my friends. We hang out here on weekends and fish and...try not to talk much.”

That won him a quiet smile.

“I see the water,” she said, looking out past the palm trees and dense tropical foliage. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s the big bay,” he explained. Hunter liked the openness of the water. He could breathe here. Most days.

He liked Florida. Funny how he’d just realized that.

“How did you wind up here?” she asked, probably to stall the inevitable questions he needed to ask her.

But he answered her, needing the time to gauge her and study her. Maybe get a feel for who she really was.

“Friends,” he said.

He’d come down here a couple of years ago to visit Blain Kent after returning from one last tour of duty. Blain now worked for the Millbrook Police Department as a detective. They’d met in Oklahoma at a place similar to the Hog Wash when Blain was passing through years ago. Almost got in a fight over a pretty woman, but when she’d told off both of them, they laughed and spent the rest of the night playing darts and talking shop, since they were both headed for deployment.

“A lifetime ago,” he said, shaking his head.

He’d tried to put Oklahoma behind him.

Now it was staring him in the face with a pretty smile and sad eyes the same color as the sunset.

Blain was a former marine and this summer he’d married Rikki Alvanetti. Hunter had wound up in Special Forces. He still didn’t like to talk about what he’d been through, so nobody bothered him about it. And he wasn’t planning on going the way of his three buddies. Unlike Blain and their friends Rory Sanderson and Alec Caldwell, Hunter had no intention of settling down. Marriage and a family were not in his future.

He was a loner. Always had been.

He remembered how Alec, Blain and even Preacher had each brought a woman here. Now Alec and Blain were married and Preacher was next. Hunter had promised that would never happen to him.

But here he stood with a woman he didn’t want to help, a woman who represented a big hurt in his lousy life. He would not take her inside this house. And yet he had to keep her out of sight.

She didn’t ask any questions after he’d given her the lowdown, telling her only what he wanted her to know.

Motioning to a planked picnic table, he walked her over to the wooden Adirondack chairs the guys had built last summer. The table and chairs were hidden behind a thick row of bamboo stalks, but it gave him a good view of the road and the shell-covered lane leading up to the house. They could use the table as cover if they had to. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

Satisfied with their surroundings, he stared at Chloe. “I need you to level with me.”

“I told you, I need a private investigator,” she said, stepping near before she sat down, her brown boots tight against her jeans, her perfume more exotic than the lilies Preacher had planted down by the shore. “And I’m willing to pay whatever price you name.”

She smelled of money. Her family had a lot of it. He needed money, but he wondered what taking on her case would cost him. He didn’t want any Conrad blood money.

She must have sensed his dilemma. “You saw those men. They won’t stop until I’m dead.”

“I kind of got that part after the fun we had back at the Hog Wash,” he said. “You need to tell me everything, starting with why you came all this way for me when there’s plenty of PIs in Oklahoma.”

She looked out at the water glistening in a rich yellow-orange beneath the bronze sky, a second’s worth of hesitation holding her still. “Because I heard that you lived here now and that you’re licensed in both Oklahoma and Florida.” Glancing over at him, she added, “I also heard you were the best.”

“Who told you about me?”

Another evasive silence. “What does it matter? I’m here now. I thought I’d covered my tracks, but they followed me. I need someone I can trust.”

He let out a sigh. “Be honest. I like honesty.”

Her beautiful, defiant gaze hit him square in the face. “So do I. And that’s why I’m here.” She hesitated one more time before she sent him a worried stare and then plunged ahead. “Gerald Howard said you’d done some work for him.”

Hunter grabbed the hair falling over his forehead and grunted. How had this nice October day gone from bad to worse in the span of a few minutes?

“I don’t like Gerald Howard,” he said, irrational feelings closing in on him from all sides. “He’s a slick lawyer with his own agenda and he’s your father’s right-hand man. I parted ways with Howard a long time ago. I don’t get him recommending me for anything.”

“I know you don’t like Mr. Howard,” she retorted, her words rushing together as swiftly as the bay’s choppy current. “But he respects you and he says you deliver on the job.”

“Yeah, I do my job,” Hunter replied. Ignoring the irritating sensations she’d dredged up, he added, “Even when I don’t like my clients.”

“You don’t have to like me,” she retorted. “You just need to believe me when I say they are all involved.”

“Who are they?” Hunter asked, figuring that was a loaded question. “Who doesn’t believe you?”

“The sheriff in Conrad Corner, for starters.” She glanced out at the water, a dark sadness that Hunter recognized coloring her eyes. “And just about everyone else there, too. Possibly including my father.”

Conrad Corner, Oklahoma. Hunter didn’t want to think about that dingy little town thirty miles west of Oklahoma City. He’d been running from that place since he’d returned stateside.

But he did believe one thing Chloe Conrad had said.

The sheriff in Conrad Corner was corrupt, so if the sheriff had refused to help her, there had to be a reason. And not a good one. Her father owned as many people as he did acreage.

“Keep talking,” he said.

She had just become his client.

* * *

Chloe let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, tears of relief burning through her eyes. No one, not even her distraught family, wanted to delve into what might have happened on that deserted airstrip this past spring. But she’d found some details that made her believe finding Hunter Lawson was her only hope. Now she had to convince him to help without sharing all those details with him. Yet.

Knowing Hunter might actually believe her helped her to go on. “Over the last few months I’ve gone from mourning my sister’s plane crash and death to promising myself to find out who killed Laura. Because besides knowing that Laura was an expert pilot, I found something else that disturbed me.”

He drummed his fingers on the weathered table. “What?”

“Her apartment had been ransacked. Everything had been tossed around and knocked over. It happened a few days after her funeral.”

“Did you report it?”

“Yes, but...nothing of value was missing. I don’t think they found what they were looking for, since I’d already taken out a box of personal papers and files earlier in the week.”

“So what happened after that?”

“I went through the files and papers I found at her apartment when I went to clean it out a day or so after the crash. My mother asked me to do it.” She tugged at her jacket, took another breath. The anguish of going into that apartment tormented Chloe even now. “My sister was a social reporter. She did human interest stories for a humanitarian website and worked as a beat reporter at the Conrad Chronicle. She wasn’t into hard news. Laura had such a good heart she always looked for the best in people.”

“What did you find in the files?” Hunter asked, his tone quiet but his eyes cutting like gunmetal.

He wanted to be done with her. Discomfort and impatience radiated all around him like a mantle. Chloe decided now wasn’t the right time to give him all the details. She had to gain his trust bit by bit.

“Some reports and notes regarding several parcels of land near Conrad. Land that my family secretly owns.”

“Your family owns half of Oklahoma.”

“But this is land that my father somehow bought up in bits. I think he’s been quietly sitting on it for years. It looks as if someone bought it up under another name, even though the sales are public record. I couldn’t understand why Laura would be interested in that until I studied these reports.”

“What did the reports say?”

“From what I could gather, the land has been in a holding pattern with a company called Wind Drift Pass. Laura’s notes indicated it was some sort of shell company. No one knows that Conrad Oil is involved with the transactions. But I think Laura found out something regarding this land, something that caused her death. She’d made notes indicating that Conrad Oil owned the land. I believe she was gathering information to confront someone. Or expose someone.”

He sat back in his chair. “Big corporations use shell companies a lot to avoid paying taxes.”

“Yes, but why would Conrad Oil use one for land that hasn’t been developed yet? What are they trying to hide?”

“Why don’t you ask your father that question?”

She sat silent for only a second, but Hunter’s eyes turned a deep gray. So he answered the question for her. “Because you don’t trust him.”

Chloe hated to admit it, but it was the truth. And Hunter had asked for the truth. She gave him as much of it as she felt necessary for now. “I don’t trust anyone.”

He nodded. “Ah, so that explains it.”

“What do you mean?” she asked. Had he already figured it all out?

He leaned up in his chair, his gaze pinning her. “Why you came to me.”

THREE

Chloe slid around so she could face the water, sweat beading on her upper lip in spite of the cool air. This was a peaceful, secluded spot, but she felt anything but peaceful.

“I told you—”

“You know I hate your father, right?” Hunter asked, his hands gripping the wide arms of his chair. “So...you can’t trust him, but you think maybe I’d be the perfect person to help you bring him down? Maybe because you think I need to seek revenge or retribution against your family? So you’ll use me to handle the unpleasant tasks, the same way your father uses people? Is that it? Am I right so far?”

He made it sound so sordid she wanted to bolt right out of here. But where would she go?

“That’s not my reason for finding you,” she said, fatigue warring with hope, regret merging with resentment. “I thought maybe if we worked together on this and if I could find out who did this to Laura, you might finally forgive my stepbrother for what he did.”

Anger clouded his eyes. “I doubt that’s gonna work, since getting justice for you will not absolve anyone—not even me. Besides, I don’t have to forgive Tray Conrad. He’s dead now and I’m thinking he’s not in a better place.”

“But—”

“But hiring me is one thing. Trying to redeem Tray is another. We do this my way and that means we aren’t going to speak of that lousy piece of humanity again, understand? And it also means I’m not anybody’s whipping boy or killer-for-hire.”

He stared out at the water for a moment and then gave her a look full of defiance. “I’ll help you find the truth about your sister’s death, but this doesn’t have anything to do with my feelings toward your family. Nothing will ever make me change my mind on that. Understand?”

She nodded again and stared at her boots. “I’m sorry, Hunter. For what he did to your sister.”

Hunter’s brooding expression turned black with anger. “Save it and get on with things.”

She told him more about the files she’d found, but she was still afraid to divulge everything. “I separated the files and kept some on my laptop and then hid part of them in a safe spot.”

“Nowhere is safe if someone is after damaging information.”

“I also took pictures of the papers and contracts that show the land sale. My father’s signature is nowhere on those papers, but somehow Laura found out he’s behind those buyouts.”

“He probably had someone strong-arm the landowners. You know how he lets other people do his dirty work.”

Hunter’s disgusted tone was undeniable. He’d never forgive Wayne Conrad for trying to cover up what her stepbrother, Tray, had done. Why had she come here?

She stood, needing to be away from him. “This was a bad idea. If you’ll take me back to the Millbrook Inn, I’ll call a cab and get a flight home.”

Hunter stood, too, and blocked her way, his broad chest shadowing the last of the sunset’s show-off rays. “Not gonna happen.”

“You said you hate my father.”

“I do. But if I let you go back and something happens to you, I’ll have to live with that, too.”

“I don’t want you to live with any more grief,” she said, hoping he’d see the sincerity in her eyes. “I came to you because you know Oklahoma. You grew up there. You know the oil fields and you know how things work.”

And because her sister had written his name with a question mark beside it in her notes. There were some other interesting revelations in her sister’s papers, but Chloe figured she’d have to dole out those details one at a time with this man. Had Laura planned on finding him?

“Yeah, I know it all,” he said in a taut whisper. “I watched my parents scrape and grovel just to keep a roof over our heads. My daddy worked himself to death and my mother’s health is so bad now she had to move in with her sister in another state. I blame their misery on Conrad Oil.”

“And you blame your own misery on my family, too,” she said, unafraid of him now. “You understand, Hunter. It might hurt and you might not like it, but you’re one of the few people who can find the truth on this.” She stopped, took in a breath and wished she could blurt out all her findings. “In the same way you fought against my father to find out the truth about your sister’s accident.”

He took her by the arm, his expression brooding and brittle with rage. “I’ll find the truth, all right. But you need to think long and hard on what’s about to happen. I won’t forgive and I won’t forget. If I have to, I’ll put them all in jail. So if you came here on some rich-girl mission to rebel against your daddy, you won’t be having any fun.”

Anger poured over Chloe in a heated rush. She glared up at him, matching the fire in his eyes. “Do I look like I’m having fun?”

He dropped her arm. “No.”

Chloe saw the trace of regret in his stormy eyes and played on it. “If you can’t find it in your heart to help me, then...I’ll go home and keep digging on my own. I’m used to doing things on my own.”

“And you’ll die trying.”

“Maybe. But at least I’ll know I did my best.”

He stared down at her, the battle raging inside him causing his body to shake. She could tell he wanted to say more, but before he could form the words, they heard tires hitting the shell-covered lane leading up to the house. Then headlights flashed briefly and went dark.

Hunter spun into action. Pushing her behind him, he pulled out his weapon and then hurried her around to the front of the house that faced the yard down to the beach.

“There’s a path along the bay,” he whispered. “I’m going to check this out, but if I’m not back in five minutes, take that path up to the road to the west. You’ll find a bait shop there. Keep your phone close and call 911 if you think anyone is following you.”

“I’m not going without you,” she said, her nerves twisting into painful knots.

“You might not have any other choice,” he said. “Wait here. I should be back soon enough.”

And then he was gone.

Chloe hid behind the storage room that was centered underneath the pilings and searched for anything she could use as a weapon. Determined not to leave without Hunter, she spotted a baseball bat. That could do some damage. She didn’t want to think about what she’d do if Hunter got hurt. Or killed.

* * *

Hunter crouched low and moved through the shadows. Since he knew every shrub and tree in these woods, he had an advantage over whoever had come for a visit.

The battered pickup truck had stopped about halfway up the drive. He couldn’t tell if anyone was inside or not and he didn’t recognize the dark-colored truck.

When he heard the click of a gun being loaded, he went behind the truck and listened. Then he saw a man moving near the line of mossy oaks on one side of the driveway toward the house.

Hunter stayed behind him, following at a close distance. If this was part of the same hit team that had tried twice now, he’d have to take matters into his own hands. Whoever had sent them obviously wanted Chloe dead, no matter what.

The man was about ten yards away from the house when Hunter heard a buzzing sound. He stopped behind a massive live oak and listened after the man pulled out a cell phone.

“I think this is the place, but I don’t see anyone around.”

Silence. Hunter held his breath. How had they found Chloe here?

“Yeah, whatever, man. I need to get in, get out and go. And I’m not feeling this. Something’s not right.” Another pause. “Well, maybe he took her somewhere else.” Then, “Yes, sir.”

The man hung up and turned to head back to his truck.

Hunter met him, stepping out from the tree so quickly he tripped the unsuspecting man with a booted foot and then placed that same foot over the man’s chest.

Aiming his Glock semiautomatic straight for the man’s chest, he said, “Drop the gun and start talking.”

* * *

Chloe checked her watch. Four minutes and counting. Now that the sun had gone down, it was hard to see past the palm trees and towering, moss-covered oaks. She didn’t want to walk the dark path to the bait shop.

She wasn’t going to, she decided. She would go and find Hunter. With the old wooden bat held in a defensive mode in front of her, she had just started around the storage room when she heard footsteps approaching. She jumped back and pressed against the wall, her breath stopping. The footsteps kept coming.

Afraid to peek or to call out, Chloe held the bat up and waited. She heard a thump and then someone coming her way.

Bracing herself, she took a deep breath and held a death grip on the bat. Then she rushed around the corner of the storage room and made ready for battle.

The man took the bat right out of her hands.

“Hunter!”

He held the bat in one hand and her in the other. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Chloe yanked away and straightened her clothes. “I was coming to look for you.”

“With this?” He threw the bat down on the concrete floor and sent it rolling into a corner. “I see you’re okay. That’s good, at least.”

“I’m fine. What happened?”

“He did,” Hunter said, pointing to a skinny man with long stringy hair sitting with his hands caught up in a tight plastic ring of some sort. “He was looking for you.”

Chloe walked over to the man and stared down at him. “Sonny?”

“You know this scumbag?” Hunter asked, his gaze swinging from her to the man.

“Yes,” she said, sick to her stomach. “His name is Sonny Bolton. He works for my father.”

Hunter walked over to where the man sat with downcast eyes. “Is that true?”

Sonny finally looked up, nodding to Chloe. “Hey, Miss Chloe.” Then he gave Hunter a look that bordered on fearful before he cast his gaze back on Chloe. “Mr. Conrad sent me to bring you home.”

“Bring me home?” Shock filled Chloe’s system. “Bring me home? What am I, a sack of potatoes?”

Sonny shrugged. “I don’t know. I just follow orders.”

Hunter leaned down eye-to-eye with Sonny. “Would those orders include trying to kill her? You were armed, remember?”

Sonny’s head came up. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was told to find her, throw her in the truck and take off. Nobody said anything about killing anybody. I always travel with a weapon, and this place looked like I might need one.”

Hunter got down on one knee and grabbed Sonny by the collar of his frayed button-up shirt. “Are you sure you didn’t come here to hurt Miss Conrad?”

Sonny bobbed his head, his long neck stretching like a turkey’s. “I’m not a killer. And why would I want to hurt Miss Chloe? She’s always been good to me.”

Chloe put a hand on Hunter’s shoulder to rein him in. “Sonny, what are you doing here?”

“I told you, I came to get you. Your daddy don’t want you down here. He needs you to come home.”

“Why didn’t he just call and tell me that?” Chloe asked, thinking none of this made sense. Why would her father send Sonny down here when he could have sent a jet and any number of bodyguards?

Sonny shrugged again, his eyes downshifting. “I don’t know.”

“What do you know?” Hunter asked, lifting Sonny up and pushing him against the round wooden piling. “And don’t even think about lying to me.”

Sonny glanced at Chloe, appeal in his brown eyes. “Your daddy’s been mighty worried about you. He gave me a wad of cash and told me to drive down here and locate you.”

“And how did you find me?” Chloe asked.

Sonny’s gaze shifted down the left. “I saw you on a motorcycle with him.” He nodded toward Hunter. “Followed y’all to the Bay Road, saw where you turned in.” He shrugged. “Plus, your daddy has a GPS on your phone, Miss Chloe. Led me right to you.”

“Unbelievable,” Chloe said. “Does he think I’m five years old or something?”

“Or something,” Sonny mumbled, looking sheepish.

“What a stroke of luck,” Hunter said, running a hand over his hair. “I think I’ll just put you on a boat and take you out a few miles to sea. And dump you. Shark bait.”

Sonny swallowed and shook his head. “I’m just following orders.”

Chloe glared at both of them. “Hunter, you can’t hurt Sonny. He’s been living on our land all his life. His family works for my daddy.”

“What’s that got to do with me dumping him in the bay?” Hunter asked, anger flaring in his eyes.

Sonny stood up straight. “I ain’t never hurt nobody in my life and I’m not about to start now. I just want to get her home safe. Her daddy’s stewing about something big and he’s worried she’s gonna get herself hurt.”

Chloe pushed Hunter aside and put a hand on Sonny’s arm. “Tell me why my father is so worried, Sonny.”

Sonny gave her a beseeching look. “I can’t say—”

And then they heard a pop and Sonny’s eyes went wide. He slumped forward toward Chloe, one of his hands grabbing for her.

But Hunter caught him, realization registering on his face. He held his fingers to Sonny’s neck.

“Chloe, he’s dead.”

“What?” Chloe reached for Sonny, a silent scream forming in her throat. “No.” She tried to grab at the still man, but when she looked at his face she knew. As she looked down at Hunter’s hand, she saw the blood seeping through Sonny’s lightweight jacket and running over Hunter’s fingers.

Sonny had been shot in the chest.

FOUR

Blain Kent scribbled on his pocket pad while the medical examiner and several uniformed officers moved around him.

Hunter rubbed his eyes and wished he hadn’t brought Chloe here. This place was private and off-limits, but he’d been wrong to think it would be safe. He should have taken her somewhere way out from town. But where? He barely had a place to call his own. Just a small one-bedroom cottage near the marina. No way could he take her there.

Blain kept glancing up, questions hovering in his onyx eyes. The kind of questions he wouldn’t want to answer in his official report.

Hunter would never hear the end of this.

Blain finished his notes and gave Hunter a long, puzzled stare. “What’s next?”

Hunter didn’t have the answer yet on that one. Well, he knew the answer and he didn’t like it. “Miss Conrad has hired me as her bodyguard,” he said, his eyes clashing with Chloe’s.

They hadn’t discussed this, but he wasn’t leaving her side now. This went beyond dealing with the Conrads. Someone was out to get her, no matter what. If her father had sent the now very dead Sonny Bolton to save her, he’d made a grave mistake. Why would a man who had millions send a grunt worker in a battered truck that had obviously come straight off some used-car dealer’s lot to save his daughter? And how had the inept Sonny found this out-of-the-way hideaway?

None of this was adding up.

Neither was what Hunter had just offered. At the same time, he’d started this. Now he had to finish it.

She looked surprised at his words to Blain, but since she was still in shock over what had happened an hour ago, she didn’t flinch.

“That’s right,” she said, her voice low but clear. “Obviously, someone is trying to stop me from investigating my sister’s death. But I don’t intend to stop. So I need...not only a bodyguard but a private investigator, too. Mr. Lawson seems to know what he’s doing. He’s kept me from possibly getting killed three times today.”

She gave Hunter a grateful, shell-shocked glance.

“Of course.” Blain’s dark gaze flickered with enlightenment and a touch of amazement. “Well, we’ve got both your statements and we’ve got people combing the woods and beach to look for the shooter. But I’m thinking he’s long gone by now.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Hunter said. “Someone will be back, though. I need to get Miss Conrad to a safe place.”

“I have a room at the Millbrook Inn,” Chloe said. “I left a briefcase and a laptop there that I should pick up.”

Blain gave Hunter another inquisitive glance. “Okay, then. Don’t leave town for a couple of days, in case we need to question you again.” Then he looked at Chloe. “We’ll impound the victim’s truck and go over it for any evidence. I can put a patrol car outside the inn, just in case.”

Chloe nodded, her gaze holding Hunter’s. He could almost read her thoughts. She needed to get back to Oklahoma.

They’d have to worry about that later. “I’ll escort you to the inn and check your room,” he said. Then he made another snap decision. “And I’ll get a room there, too, if I have to. Nearby.”

Blain didn’t move a muscle and Hunter chafed under that dark detective gaze. He wanted to shout “It’s not what you think.” But he wasn’t sure what to think himself. So he ignored Blain’s steady, all-knowing scrutiny and focused on what needed to be done.

Then he turned back to Chloe. “Will that work for now?”

“Yes,” she said, a hint of relief and surprise in her voice.

“Hunter, a word please.” Blain’s quizzical expression had changed to one of concern.

“Sure.” Hunter didn’t want to have this conversation because Blain would want too many answers. And right now, Hunter would rather have his teeth pulled out than explain all of this to anyone. But he walked a few feet away with Blain, his gaze on Chloe. She turned to stare out at the moonlight over the bay.

“Uh, what’s going on?” Blain asked, his pen tapping his notepad. “Off the record.”

Hunter shrugged. “It’s a long story.” Blain had said that same thing to him once, regarding getting involved with Rikki Alvanetti, so Hunter hoped his friend would cut him some slack.

“I might need to hear it. You could be in with some real dangerous people, bro.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Hunter replied. “She showed up at the Hog Wash and then someone took a shot at us and it’s been one big adventure since then.” Had that only been a few hours ago?

Blain leaned close. “This was an execution. Probably by a professional. Why didn’t you call in the attack at the Hog Wash?”

Hunter knew better. “I should have, but the owner didn’t want the attention and I had to act fast. You know how that place operates. The Hog Wash is like a haven for misfits and people of questionable repute.”

“So that’s why you always hang out there,” Blain said with a tight smile. “Makes perfect sense.”

“Funny,” Hunter said, glad for the levity. “It was a judgment call. One I’m regretting now.”

Blain nodded. “Yes, because we could have tried to trace the shooter.”

Hunter wasn’t one to argue about the rules. “I agree. But there were no witnesses. It was her and me out on the deck, and since they used a silencer, we only heard a ping and then the car sped away. I didn’t get a good look and I didn’t see the license plate on the vehicle.”

He described the car and Blain said he’d make a note in what would be a long report on this shooting.

“Look, Blain, let me do what I need to do to get her back to Oklahoma safe and sound. She’s scared and she doesn’t trust her own father right now.”

Blain glanced over at Chloe and then gave Hunter a steady gaze. “I trust you. So you be careful and let me know if you need my help.”

“I will,” Hunter said, meaning it. He’d never trusted anyone easily, but Blain was one person he knew he could depend on. “I’m taking her to the inn and we’ll decide what our next move is.”

“You can’t take off to Oklahoma in the middle of the night,” Blain reminded him. “Not just yet, okay?”

“Got it,” Hunter said. He wasn’t used to getting so involved with the locals, but he knew the law. He didn’t want to get on Blain’s bad side. “I’ll keep her here for a few days and try to piece things together.”

After Blain and his men finished up, Hunter walked over to Chloe. “Let’s go.”

“Your friend doesn’t like me,” she commented as they walked to his bike.

“He doesn’t know you,” Hunter said. “Big difference.”

“I’ve brought danger to his town.”

“Yeah, but don’t be so melodramatic. He’s good at his job. And he can be an asset to us if we need him.”

“He doesn’t want me to leave, so that means he suspects me of something.”

“It’s a detective’s nature to suspect people.”

They got on the motorcycle and zoomed toward the dark road. Hunter checked the landscape and hoped they wouldn’t be attacked anymore tonight.

Chloe held tightly to him, giving him that odd sensation again. Something about this woman’s touch got to him.

That led to another revelation.

He truly wanted to protect her.

Blain was right about one thing at least. This had become dangerous. In more ways than just being shot at.

* * *

An hour later, Chloe sat in a secluded corner where Hunter had deposited her away from the many doors and windows in the Millbrook Lake Inn. After he’d made sure no strange cars were in the tiny parking lot or out on the street and explained to the surprised desk clerk what he was doing, he came back to stand over Chloe.

“Patrol car’s out front,” he said in his stern, no-nonsense voice. “And the officer is guarding the front door and patrolling the parking lot. Don’t move. I’ll be back in a few.”

The woman everyone called Miss Ida smiled as he headed up the wide staircase just past the check-in desk. “Even though Hunter explained he needed to check your room before you go inside, I’m not sure what’s going on but if you’re with him, you’re in good hands. That’s one tall drink of water.”

Chloe couldn’t think about that tall drink of water right then. She swallowed back her fear and prayed Hunter wouldn’t find anything wrong upstairs. “He’s...uh...helping me with a problem.”

Miss Ida pursed her thin lips. “Yes, ma’am. I don’t ask questions. That’s your business.”

“No, no, it’s not like that,” Chloe said, wishing she could get up and walk around. “I mean, he’s not a...friend. We just met.”

“Right.” Miss Ida shuffled some papers. “That’s Hunter Lawson, baby. We all know about him. He is a man of few words but big on action from what we hear around here. Served our country in some sort of elite, secretive capacity and now he’s decided to live here in Millbrook Lake.”

“Yes, ma’am, so I’ve heard.”

That was one of the reasons she’d hired him. Because he was the kind of person you wanted in your corner. Laura must have thought so. Why else would she have jotted his name in her notes? And now that she’d met Hunter, Chloe could certainly understand why Miss Ida beamed with almost motherly pride.

Thinking of how much she missed her mother right now, Chloe pushed away her doubts regarding her father. She had to find out who killed Laura and she prayed their father hadn’t been involved in any of this.

Please, Lord, don’t let anything else bad happen to the people I care about. Or to the man I hired.

Miss Ida shuffled around the desk, her hand patting her silvery white bob. She wore a blue cashmere turtleneck and black pants with a snazzy pair of black pointed-toe loafers. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, thank you,” Chloe said.

“Can I pray for you?”

Chloe wanted to hug this sweet woman tight. “Yes. That’s the best thing you can do for me right now.”

The older woman touched Chloe’s hand and sent her a peaceful smile. “I’m on it.”

Chloe sank against the big chair and inhaled the smell of something spicy-sweet wafting out from the diffuser on a nearby table. This was a beautiful place, Victorian and rambling, with elegant antique furnishings and big, cozy rooms. But Chloe couldn’t enjoy being here.

Hunter had told her they’d get in, get what she needed and move on. But where he’d take her, she didn’t know.

He’d grilled the sweet clerk and through it all Miss Ida had remained calm and explained that she hadn’t seen any strange cars or any mysterious men. Chloe hoped she could leave without getting this lovely old place shot up. She certainly didn’t want Miss Ida or any of the other guests to get hurt.

Hunter came barreling back down the stairs, his gaze moving from her to the very curious Miss Ida. “You can come up now.”

He didn’t speak again until they were inside the room. “Did you have anything in the safe?”

“Yes. And on the table.” Chloe grabbed the briefcase she’d left on the mahogany table near the French doors. “This is still locked. Is the safe?”

“No,” he said, guiding her to the closet. “I didn’t want to say anything downstairs, but the safe is open and empty.”

Chloe stared into the closet. “I think they found what they wanted. My laptop was in there.”

Hunter let out a frustrated breath. “They must have zoomed in on the safe with a grab-and-go. Must have seen us coming since they left the briefcase. But you said you made copies of part of the information and stored those copies in a secure place?”

She lifted her chin. “I did, but now I think you’re right. No place is safe. And I’ll never be safe again, either.”

“All the more reason to put you in hiding,” he said. “Grab your things. We’re getting out of here.”

Chloe found her overnight bag and shoved her clothes and toiletry items in it and zipped it. “I didn’t bring much,” she said. “I’m ready.”

Hunter took the big leather bag and she held on to her briefcase and her purse. “My laptop had a lot of other files I could use—work-related documents and my contact list.”

“Too bad,” he said, guiding her down the back stairs to the big courtyard surrounded by banana trees and sago palms.

Hunter opened the wrought-iron gate and slid around the corner. “We need to ditch my bike and get my truck.”

Chloe couldn’t argue with that. “Where is your truck?”

“About a half mile to the east at my place near the marina.”

“Think we can make it without being shot at?”

“I doubt it.”

He kept her near the bushes and trees, his gaze moving along the street by the inn. “I’m going to put you in the patrol car and let the officer follow me to my place. We’ll switch out vehicles there, okay?”

“Okay.” Curious to see where he lived, Chloe followed him through the shadows to the parked cruiser out on the curb.

When they got close, Hunter did a knuckle knock on the driver’s-side window. “He has to be inside, since I didn’t see him walking the perimeters.”

He found the officer slumped over the steering wheel.

Hunter turned and shoved Chloe forward. “Run!” he shouted, pointing to the road toward the marina. “Run, Chloe, and don’t look back.”

FIVE

Chloe held tight to her shoulder bag and briefcase and took off running up the sideway toward the marina located on one of the curves of the lake. But where was Hunter?

She glanced back and saw Hunter close on her heels.

With two men chasing him.

He caught up with her and shoved her into some oleander bushes. “Go,” he said. “Shortcut across the park.”

He took her briefcase and they kept running until he pulled her up into a sandy driveway shadowed by tall palms on each side. “We’re at my place,” he said. “I dropped your overnight bag back at the inn. Used it to trip one of them up.”

“It’s okay. Nothing I can’t replace.” She was out of breath, but at least they seemed to be safe for now.

Hunter kept her in front of him and glanced back over his shoulder as he whisked her up the steps leading to a small covered deck. “This should buy us some time. They might have figured out I live here already so we need to hurry.”

“Another house on stilts,” she said, taking in the whitewashed shingles covering the side of the house.

“A necessity in hurricane country.”

He opened a side door and led her in. “Stay away from the windows.”

Chloe knew the drill. She scanned a galley kitchen and a big square room that contained a bed and living area with a bathroom off the back. Very sterile and stark. No room for anything lasting.

But she couldn’t analyze the house right now. “Will they ever stop?”

“No,” he said. “Give me your phone.”

She found her phone in her crossover bag. “The GPS? I didn’t check it earlier.”

“I’m thinking it’s more than a GPS.”

He kept looking out the window, her phone in his hand.

With the light from one muted lamp, he scrolled through her apps. “Just what I thought. Someone has put a spyware app on your phone.”

“What?” Chloe rushed over to stare at her phone. “How could that happen?”

“It’s not that hard,” he said. “If you left it on your desk or let someone use it for just a couple of minutes, they could easily set this up.”

“I left it on my desk at work,” she said, her mind overflowing with several scenarios. “Any number of people could have had access to it.”

He showed her a map he’d pulled up. “They’ve tracked your every move, beginning with your private flight and the rental car and look.” He pointed to a red dot on the map. “Here’s the Millbrook Inn.”

Chloe let out a gasp. “Then that means they’re on their way here now. They know where we are right now.”

“Yes.” He deleted the app and then he took her phone and dropped it on the floor. “You have several missed calls and messages from someone named Bridget. You’ll have to wait on getting back to her.”

“Okay,” Chloe said. She’d seen the messages, but she hadn’t had a chance to check in with her overly protective friend. Bridget worked for Conrad Oil, too, as Chloe’s assistant. Bridget knew almost as much about the company as Chloe did, since she shadowed Chloe and scheduled her days.

Which was probably the main reason Chloe was avoiding her. She didn’t want to get Bridget involved any more than she already was.

Hunter kicked the phone toward the sofa. “That should throw them off for a while. We have to go.”

He hurried her down to where a big black truck was parked behind the house. Before she could get in, he swung the door open and lifted her up onto the seat and then he ran around to the driver’s side and got in.

Chloe ignored the sensations that had shot through her when he’d placed her inside the truck. Strength mixed with steel. That was him. A man of steel. Superman? No, just a man who’d hardened himself against the world.

But his touch had been gentle.

Spinning tires and spewing dirt made the big vehicle sound as if it was growling, but Hunter got them out of the yard and through a back alley.

* * *

“So far, so good.”

They were headed along the Bay Road out from town when Hunter noticed a car tailing them too close. He glanced in the rearview mirror, but he didn’t say anything to Chloe.

When the car sped up and did a bold tap against the back bumper, he shifted into overdrive. “I’m taking you to the safest place I know,” he told Chloe. “Hold on.”

Chloe grabbed the door and glanced back. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, just a tailgater getting a little too close.”

“They’re after us again, aren’t they?”

“I think so.”

Hunter watched as the pickup backed off. But he knew what was coming next. The truck came at them again. When he heard the shot, he braced for the worst, his right hand automatically reaching for Chloe. “Get down.”

She screamed and leaned forward.

But the shooter wasn’t trying to hit either of them.

He’d gone for one of the tires.

And now Hunter’s truck was spinning out of control.

Hunter gritted his teeth and held on to the wheel, letting the truck do what it had to do before he could get it back into control. Once he’d righted it, he’d done a complete one-eighty turn and was now facing the truck idling a few yards away.

“Are you all right?” he asked Chloe. He pulled his gun out and readied it.

“Yes.” She sat up and glanced over at him. “Hunter?”

“Keep holding on,” he said. “Time to play chicken.”

“What are you doing?” Chloe held so tightly to the door handle she thought her knuckles would crack. “Hunter?”

“Just hang on,” he said, the grit in his words enough to warn her to stay quiet. “Get down in the seat.”

He let down his window and held the gun close to the opening while he revved the engine, making the big truck roar with power. Then he hit the gas pedal and headed straight for the truck that had tried to run them down, firing bullets all the way. “I’ll show these idiots how it’s supposed to be done.”

Chloe took in a deep breath and closed her eyes, willing her body to curl in a tight ball as she tried to stay out of the line of fire. They were going to crash into the idling vehicle. Even with one bad tire, the Chevy ate up the space between them and the people who’d chased them.

Return fire popped and sizzled all around the Chevy.

She opened her eyes for a fraction of a second and peeked over the dash, a scream wedged inside her throat. Bracing herself for the crash, she thought about Laura and wondered why in the world she thought she could trust this man. He was as full of rage as her late stepbrother.

And then at the last second, the other truck jerked to the left so hard and fast the driver couldn’t right it as he tried to swerve away. The vehicle hit the soft earthy drop-off leading down into the bay and went over, dirt spraying out behind it and the smell of burning rubber lifting up into the air.

Chloe held her breath, her eyes on Hunter. He slammed on the brakes and stopped the truck, his right hand still on the steering wheel. His gun still aimed out the door.

“I guess we won that round,” he said on a low growl. Then he turned to stare over at her. “How ya doing over there?”

Chloe wanted to laugh. She wanted to cry. “You scared me.”

“I had to stop them, one way or another.”

She nodded and finally let go of the door, her hands shaking so badly she gave up and held them together in her lap.

He watched her in that quiet, dangerous way that unnerved Chloe. But she wouldn’t fall apart now.

“What’s next?” she asked, swiping at her hair.

“Do you know how to change a tire?”

Amazed that he somehow made her smile in spite of what they’d just been through, she said, “As a matter of fact, I do.”

His look of surprise was replaced with one of admiration. “It’s okay. I was messing with you. That flat tire is evidence. We can’t touch it.”

“What about them?” she asked, looking back toward the road behind them.

“Not my problem.”

“Aren’t you going to report them?”

“Eventually.”

He got out and came around to her side of the truck and opened the door, his dark gaze scanning her until he seemed satisfied that she wasn’t hurt. Then he handed her the gun. “Stay here while I make sure we’re safe. Shoot anything that moves.”

Chloe did as he said. He turned and stalked over to the bay side of the curving road and stared down into what looked like a thicket of scrub brush and palmetto palms. Then he pulled out his phone. She heard him giving details, so he must have called someone official.

He came back to stand by her and he took back his gun. “The truck’s halfway submerged in the shallows, but I can’t tell if they’re still in it or not. They probably got out and ran up toward the beach area. I reported the accident, so I’ll have to stay here and give a statement to the police.”

“I have to get out of here,” Chloe said. “But do I go back to Oklahoma and start all over?”

“It’s not safe there, but we’ll come up with a plan.”

“We need to keep moving.”

“I know,” he said. “And this could take a while, but if I’m going to be your official bodyguard, you need to wait here with me for now, understand?”

She didn’t like having to wait, but she did like the part where he’d accepted being her bodyguard. “I’ll wait.”

“I’ll try to hurry things along,” he said.

She stared out into the distance where the crescent moon hung over the bay like a bright lantern. “Should I call my dad and play coy?”

“No. They might have a tracking device or a tracer on his phone, too.”

“They know where I am already, Hunter.”

“But they don’t know if we have any new information or not. You can’t talk to him right now. Or anyone else, either. I’m sorry.”

Chloe didn’t protest. When they heard sirens echoing from the east, she gave Hunter one last glance. “I hope those men run into some sharks out there.”

He nodded and took off to meet the ambulance and the cruiser.

Chloe thought she probably should have told him that Bridget knew why she was here and that she would have a hissy fit once she found out what had been going on. How could she tell her nervous Nellie friend that she’d been shot at and chased since she arrived in Florida early this morning? Even though she’d helped Chloe track down Hunter, Bridget had warned her against this trip. But Hunter had been her last hope.

Now she’d put him in danger, too. When would this ever end?

The only glimmer of hope came from Hunter actually witnessing this attack. He believed her when no one else would.

Thank You, Lord.

Right now Hunter had his hands full. She’d tell him later about everyone who knew she was here and about what she’d found in Laura’s notes. Once they were away from this swamp-infested curve in the road, she’d be able to think about who might want her dead.

Because she’d never believe her father was behind this.

* * *

Hunter’s work sometimes involved talking to the locals and filing reports, but tonight he didn’t have the stomach for the mundane part of being a private investigator.

He needed to get Chloe somewhere safe. This road was too isolated and too exposed for her to be sitting here in the dark.

So he hurried things up with the two patrolmen and then called Blain to give him an update and waited to see what the first responders had found in the dense foliage along the hillside down to the bay.

“The vehicle is empty,” he heard one of the EMTs telling the responding officer. “We checked all around. One door is open, so if anyone was inside, they either managed to get out or they drowned.”

Hunter had heard enough. He’d done all he could here and he didn’t need to be in on any further searches. His truck had been moved off the road. The tow truck could have it for now to take in as evidence.

He made a call to Alec and then opened the passenger-side door and looked into Chloe’s wide eyes. “C’mon. I’ve got a friend coming to give us a ride to a safe place.”

She took the hand he offered and hopped down. “You seem to have a lot of friends.”

“Just three that I can count on.”

She didn’t ask any more questions. They stood by the truck, the damp cold night air surrounding them while the water lapped at the shore down below.

“Those men got away, didn’t they?” she asked, a shiver tapping down her spine. “There had to be at least two, right? One driver and one gunman.”

He leaned down and swiped at his bangs. “You must watch a lot of crime shows.”

“I’m just being logical.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. These kinds of underlings always travel in pairs.”

“And the ones who first showed up at the bar would have taken me or shot me right there if you hadn’t been there with me,” she said. “But you stopped them.”

“You should have stayed in Oklahoma and let the locals figure this out.”

“The locals don’t care.”

He gave her a hard stare, but his whisper was raw and low. “And you think I do?”

His question hadn’t fooled her. She stared up at him with wide-open eyes. “I know you do. You’ve proven that over and over today.”

She had him there, but Hunter wasn’t ready to concede. “I didn’t have much of a choice. I couldn’t let you get hurt or worse. I won’t have that on my conscience.”

“You’re right,” she said, a cold disappointment cresting in her expression. “You were just doing your job.”

Thankfully, Alec pulled up in a sleek SUV and saved Hunter from having to analyze things too deeply. Best to just go with it and not think about how this woman was cramping his style and messing with his head.

“Ride’s here,” he said, taking her by the arm to put her in the backseat.

Chloe gave him a questioning look as she got in the vehicle but she didn’t say anything.

Hunter got in the front. “Alec Caldwell, meet Chloe Conrad.”

Alec turned around and offered his hand. “Nice to meet you. Sorry about the circumstances.”

Chloe stared at his extended hand for a moment and then shook it. He was different from Hunter. More clean-cut and upper-crust. “Same here. Thank you for helping us.”

“You’re welcome,” Alec said. Then he turned and faced Hunter. “Where to?”

“About that, bro,” Hunter said. “We need one more favor, but it’s a big one.”

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