Page 119

GRAHAM: How do you figure?

SIMON: He showed his hand. Now we know he's willing to involve law enforcement. Limits his options going forward.

I stared out at the empty parking lot, turning Simon's words over in my mind. The typing indicator showed he was responding again.

SIMON: Your truck's ready, by the way. Roan said that Thatcher’s finished the paint job yesterday. Looks good as new.

GRAHAM: Thanks. I need to pick it up today. Carpooling with Joy has been okay, but I’m antsy for my truck.

SIMON: I’ll have Roan swing by. He’ll come pick you up in it, then you can drive him back to the shop and come back to LeeHy. Sorry that’s where you ended up. Been there.

GRAHAM: Wasn’t too bad. Joy’s cousin dropped off sheets and pillows from her place. She insisted.

There was a pause in the texting. I could almost hear Simon chuckling.

SIMON: How are Joy’s brothers holding up?

GRAHAM: I’m beginning to like them. Seth's been helpful with security planning. Randy's stopped questioning every decision I make.

SIMON: Nothing like armed deputies breaking down doors to put family squabbles into perspective.

GRAHAM: No shit. When do you think Roan will be by?

SIMON: We’ll shoot for an hour.

I set the phone aside and rubbed my face. The stubble on my jaw felt like sandpaper, matching how my eyes burned from lack of sleep. In the field, I could function on two hours of rest for days at a time. But this wasn't the field. This was personal. The stakes were higher than any mission I'd ever run.

The woman sleeping ten feet away was my entire world. The thought of losing her, of failing to protect her after last night's clusterfuck, made my chest feel like it was caving in.

Last night had been a warning shot. A demonstration of power. This bastard was telling us he could reach us anywhere, anytime, using any method he chose.

Fifty minutes crawled by before my phone buzzed.

ROAN: Five minutes out.

I texted Randy, he and Seth had both checked into the LeeHy last night with us. They were in the rooms on either side of us. I’d hoped to get us into the Whispering Pines Inn, but this was their busy season.

Randy responded. I explained he needed to get over here and watch Joy while I went out. He was already waiting for my text and was on his way over.

I stood, every joint protesting the uncomfortable night, and moved to the bed. Joy had rolled onto her stomach, her face buried in the pillow I'd vacated. Even in sleep, tension lined her shoulders. The events of the past few days were taking their toll.

I brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek.

“Joy.”

She stirred but didn't wake. I tried again, my voice a little louder.

“Baby, I need to talk to you.”

Her eyes fluttered open, immediately alert in that hypervigilant way she'd developed since the flowers arrived. The way I recognized from my own sleepless nights after Africa.

“Graham? What's wrong? Are they back?”

The fear in her voice cut through me like a blade.

“No, sweetheart. Nothing's wrong. I need to go pick up my truck. Roan is giving me a ride over to Thatcher’s so I can pick up my truck.”

She pushed herself up on her elbows, blue eyes scanning my face for deception.