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Holy shit, he heard her before she even approached the front doorway.
Taking a deep breath, she entered the kitchen.
Big Jay, which was the perfect name for the man, stared at her with identical eyes to his brother’s.
“I was just checking on you guys,” she replied, and he gave a small chuckle.
He nodded his head as he looked her over. She suddenly wished she had grabbed a sweater or her hoodie first. But fear had a way of ruining rational thinking.
“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked and she nodded her head. “How about a drink of water or a snack?”
“Water is fine.”
When he stood up, she took an uneasy step backward. The man was that intimidating.
He glanced over his shoulder at her. She felt like such a twerp and was embarrassed for gawking at the fine specimen of man, so she turned away. That was when she saw the pictures on the screen.
They were of her days following finding Clara.
She stepped closer, feeling both shocked and angry.
The media had caught her facial expressions during a time of great sadness and desperation. They were private moments that lost the sanctity of that privacy and her ownership of them. She understood that the media was doing their job, just as Duke, Big Jay and Sandman were, but each time she caught sight of those images and the fear, devastation, and weakness in her eyes, it upset her. Her chest tightened and she prayed for strength to remain strong and not break down.
“I was doing some research. Trying to get an understanding of what’s going on in the case,” Big Jay said as he walked over with the glass of water. He handed her the glass and she took it from him. Staring up into his eyes, she wondered what his deal was.
“Researching what? What someone looks like after days of searching miles and miles of woods and finding your own sister’s body? You wanted to see what I looked like then when I was going through hell?” He raised his eyebrows at her. She snapped at him for no damn reason. God, I’m strung so tight. He’s trying to do his job. Just let him do it.
“Grace, it’s not like that.” She raised her hand up, took a sip from the glass then swallowed.
“I’m sorry. I’m just a bit on edge. I had no right to snap at you. I have no right to ask what you’re doing or what your job is. I guess I’m used to being in control of my life all the time and now I’m out of control of it.” She took another sip of water then walked toward the sink. She washed it then placed it on the drying rack. When she turned, she found Big Jay staring down at her.
“On a regular basis, I’m kind of like a private investigator, but for special assignments. My brothers and I have served in the Marine Corps as Commandoes. Duke works for Houston SWAT as a trainer and specialist. His bosses allow him flexibility when a special type of investigation arises. Same goes for Sandman. He only takes the tough ones. The cases where it seems like the bad guy might get away with the crime. But they don’t. Sandman is the best.”
“Then why are you working together on this case?”
“Sandman’s call. He hasn’t filled us in on everything but I can assume he needs more help and he wants that help to remain under the radar.”
She thought about that a minute.
“He’s thinking that there’s more to these homicides and threats to me than just some sick bastard killing women?”
“Maybe.”
She gave a sigh. “Sorry to interrupt.”
She started to walk out when his deep voice stopped her immediately.
“Try to get some rest. You’ve been through a lot. We’ll figure this out, Grace.”
He turned back toward the computer and sat down. She got the feeling that Big Jay was a lot like Sandman. Quiet, observant, but detached. They really didn’t show emotion. She didn’t know why that bothered her. What did she expect? These men were doing a job and they weren’t her family. All she could do now was sit and wait. So why was being in this huge log cabin in the middle of nowhere with three attractive, dynamic, resourceful men so unnerving?
* * * *
Sandman showered and dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and a black T-shirt. He hoped that Big Jay made some progress into the time line of events since the first homicide and then the others Sandman felt were connected even though men were killed. He had tossed and turned most of the night and heard Grace get up and go downstairs. He followed her and listened to the conversation his brother had with her. When he knew she was safe, he headed back to bed, but not before peeking into her bedroom.
The door was open and the scent of her perfume lingered in the hallway. He saw the rumpled sheets and he was struck by the fact that there was a woman in their vacation home. Neither him, Big Jay, nor Duke ever brought any women up here. Thinking about it, they never brought any women to their home in town either. He could see himself with a woman like Grace. She had a lot of the characteristics he was attracted to in a woman, but she was out of his league in other ways.
She had lived in Europe, photographed models, went to fancy parties, and had designer everything. She was style and class, and he was vintage.
