Page 57 of Hunted in Hope Town

So many things. Still, if Boyd was telling the truth, that meant Ellis had another person on his side. More help. Could he deny that? Especially if Boyd was handing over his gun of his own volition?

It just wasn’t the behavior of a guilty party.

Besides, no matter what Boyd might think, Ellis was pretty sure these days he was even more lethal without a weapon than he’d been two years ago considering the amount of working out and training he’d done over the past two years, just to keep his mind off Kirsten.

“Follow me,” Ellis said gruffly. He led Boyd back to the front of the cabin and tried the knob. He was impressed and happy that Kirsten had listened to him and locked it. So he gave it the sharp knock she’d know as his.

He heard the lock disengage. He pushed the door open himself, since they’d agreed on that if this scenario presented itself. Kirsten rushed forward, as if she was going to throw her arms around him, then stopped on a dime as Boyd stomped inside.

And then it was Boyd’s turn to freeze. “Kirsten.”

KIRSTEN FELT A little sheepish at the pure look of shock, and maybe a little hurt, on Boyd’s face. She also felt…confused and suspicious.

Why was he here?

But he looked at Ellis as if he’d been personally betrayed. “What the hell is this?”

Ellis closed the door behind them. “WitSec.”

“But I thought she died. I thought…” Boyd shook his head, shoved the snowy hat off his head. “I can’t believe this.”

And he really did seem…confused and shocked and in disbelief. Something he wouldn’t be if he was in on anything threatening them. Kirsten hated to have suspicions about Ellis’s best friend. Particularly when she’d thought she’d known Boyd too. Him being involved with Colleen or any threat would be a deep betrayal she couldn’t fathom.

And still, she was reluctant to trust him fully. Even if Ellis apparently did by letting him in here.

“Boyd’s here to help us,” Ellis told her very seriously.

She really wanted to believe that was true. She needed it to be true.

Ellis looked back at his friend. “It’s my fault, really. I was trying to be vague when I called him. So he followed my trail trying to find the leak instead of whoever might be the leak.”

Kirsten supposed it sounded plausible.

“Are you hungry, Boyd?”

For a minute he just stared at her. It was hard to imagine what he was thinking or feeling. He thought she’d been dead for two years. And they hadn’t been as close as Boyd and Ellis, of course, but they had been friends. Because they both loved Ellis, in their own ways.

He shook his head, not as if he was answering her, but as if he still couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. Then he crossed to her and gave her a hard hug. “Hell. I can’t believe it.” He pulled back, studied her face. “And I’m glad.”

She had to swallow at the lump in her throat. This was different. Different than remembering, than Ellis always knowing. It was someone thinking she was dead.

And being glad she wasn’t.

He looked back at Ellis, released Kirsten. “This poor bastard has been so gone over you since college, I didn’t know how he survived losing you. This makes a lot more sense.”

Kirsten glanced at Ellis, watching his expression shutter some. Losing was his sore spot. She didn’t want to be his sore spot, but…she certainly didn’t want to miss out on the good because he was afraid of the bad.

She wouldn’t.

“The truth is, Kirsten suffered a traumatic brain injury that affected her memory for most of the past two years,” Ellis explained. “So, part of doing WitSec was to protect that vulnerability. She’s begun to remember these past few days, to…heal, we think. But this threat against her, against us, has complicated things.”

Kirsten wrinkled her nose. She didn’t like the way he called it a vulnerability, when it was more than that. And less than that. All rolled into one.

She didn’t know what to think about the impassive way Boyd seemed to absorb that information, but she had always known Boyd in a social setting. The kind of blank on his face reminded Kirsten of Ellis. It must be an FBI work thing.

“You two sit at the table. I bet I can turn this meal into enough for three,” she said, moving for the kitchen, needing something to do with her hands, needing something to think about that wasn’t the million doubts she had about Boyd, about their safety, about everything.

“Always the Girl Scout.”