Page 6 of Hideaway Reunion

He swore, pulling out his camera and snapping a series of photos. Easing around the area, he found a small bundle of zip ties tucked between the roots of the tree and fresh boot prints with a distinct tactical tread pattern. He set his foot beside the print for comparison. More pictures for the growing file and more curses, locked in his head this time.

This observation point was too close to the house. Too close to Roni. Even without the zip ties, this wasn’t a likely place for a construction worker to take a break. This was a purposeful surveillance location where someone had been monitoring the Hideaway activity and routines.

He waited a beat for the rage to fade back to a manageable level. Carefully, he skimmed away any evidence of his visit and continued on his way, more vigilant than ever. He sent a text to Jess with the photos, trusting her not to say or do anything that would spook Roni.

After a brief internal debate, he sent another text, asking her to bring someone in to keep watch over the property while he geared up. Why give someone room to make a move?

His photos didn’t qualify outright as hard proof of misconduct from the developers, but it was incriminating in the extreme. He considered it more reason to believe Indigo Reef was using every possible trick to force the Hargrave sisters out. They’d made a legitimate offer on the property a few weeks back—though it was way under market value—and the sisters turned it down flat.

Since that rejection, the noise pollution had increased, along with workers blocking the driveway and trespassing through the tree line to the beach, just to be jerks. Indigo Reef clearly wanted access to that beach and they weren’t afraid to play dirty.

Game on. Now he could go all-in and make a real difference for Roni and her sisters.

Temper slid like lightning under his skin as he jogged for his truck. Someone had been watching Roni, the Hideaway guests, maybe her sisters too. That crap stopped now. Whoever was giving the workers these harassment orders was about to become gravely disappointed.

He’d met Roni in the high school weight room and, being equally devoted to sports, they’d become fast friends. From the start, it had been obvious how much she loved the family beach house. Her face would practically glow whenever she mentioned it, her blue eyes sparkling as she shared stories of their adventures.

He refused to allow this development group to wreck something she treasured. He’d always felt that way. Watching out for her was as natural as breathing.

Their first encounter floated through his mind as he drove to his rental. Her track coach had her up in the bleachers, running sprints while the football team was on the field for morning practice. Then something went wrong and the coach sent the defense up into the bleachers too.

Veronica had ignored the lot of them, unmoved by their over-inflated confidence as they brushed by her or cut her off. One oaf deliberately shoved her and she’d had to shuffle along the row to keep from going down. Doing so put her well ahead of the idiot as they continued running up and down the aisles.

The football coach had missed the unsportsmanlike incident, but Brayden hadn’t. He adjusted his pace until he was close enough to intervene if needed. Sure enough, on the verge of being lapped by Roni again, the oaf tripped her. Though she’d evaded the worst of it, Brayden caught her before she could tumble over the aluminum benches.

She’d murmured a thanks and they’d both continued on, chatting surreptitiously and starting what became a lifetime of friendship. Within a week, she’d become his favorite person and it had been that way ever since.

His best friend had become one of the best women he knew. He’d fallen in love with her somewhere along the line and kept it to himself. Because telling her might make her uncomfortable and he absolutely could not risk losing her. She was too important.

At the rental, he pulled into the drive to park as close to his door as he could get. He didn’t want anyone taking undue interest in how much he was packing out while remaining on the island.

Fire Chief Evan Miller had an apartment over his garage that had come available when Brayden had been assigned to help with things in this area. After a couple of weeks, Brayden asked for a long-term contract and they’d come to terms. It was a good spot and he wasn’t bothered by any weird hours the chief might have. Thankfully, the reverse was also true.

Inside, he went straight for the bedroom closet where he’d stored his high-tech surveillance gear, a rugged laptop, and communication tools. If he had to sit in the dark and wait for someone to return to that observation site, he wanted to be able to call for backup if necessary.

Brayden ran a microfiber cloth over the lens of a thermal imaging monocular, his movements methodical. As a senior investigator and protector for the Guardian Agency, he had spent the last several years operating in high-threat environments across the country. He had tracked corporate saboteurs, protected high-profile clients, and dismantled extortion rings.

But none of those assignments had ever made his chest tighten the way this one did.

His cell phone buzzed in his pocket and a text appeared from Jess.

Text: Travis Upton is finishing the perimeter assessment. His wife Lila and I will stay with Veronica. She refuses to leave until she speaks with you face to face.

He gave the message a thumbs up and started sorting the essentials. He packed the thermal optics, a set of encrypted outdoor trail cameras, and his personal tactical defense kit into a heavy black canvas duffel bag. In another suitcase, he packed a week’s worth of clothing and personal gear. He could always come back if necessary.

His phone chimed again, but this message was from Patrick Gamble, one of the partners that headed up the Guardian Agency.

Text: More intel received. Veronica Hargrave will remain under your protection at the Hideaway until further notice. Her sisters will have a bag ready for you to pick up.

More intel? As much as he wanted those details right now, he trusted his bosses implicitly. They wouldn’t leave him hanging. And how awkward would it be picking up the bag for her?

What was he supposed to tell her sisters? And how was he supposed to guard the Hideaway and protect Veronica during her appointments?

As much as he valued teamwork and trusted his fellow protectors, he was personally invested in Roni’s safety. Better to get over there and sort it out together.

Because he was used to managing clients with a certain professional detachment. If a protection detail meant telling a client when and how to adjust a schedule, he did it. No qualms or hesitation when he was guarding a CEO in Seattle or a celebrity in Miami.

It was an entirely different story now that the client was Veronica Hargrave.