Author: Christine Bell


“Have a seat,” he said.


She bristled at the tone but pulled out a chair and sat. No point in being pissy. She expected she’d have a fight on her hands soon when she told him she wasn’t going with him. No reason to expedite it.


“You’re a smart lady, so I’m sure you’ve already put it together, but I’m going to confirm it for you because I get the feeling you don’t appreciate the seriousness of the situation. Three people from your former place of work have been killed, and if you’re not next, you’re pretty damn near it.”


She winced but held his matter-of-fact gaze. “I wasn’t a part of the grift. I was a legitimate employee of a company I thought was committed to helping couples through a rough time, and I did that to the best of my ability. I was cleared of all charges and released. The people who’ve been killed were all either under investigation or had already been charged with a crime and were awaiting trial.”


“So far,” he conceded with a curt nod. “But this could be the tip of the iceberg, and we can’t assume that anyone on the payroll is safe. I’ve been doing security for a long time now, both in the army and in the private sector. Trust me when I tell you this is a high-risk situation.”


“Then why aren’t the police here offering me protection? Surely if they agreed with your assessment, I’d have been notified,” she asked, wrapping her arms around herself to ward off the sudden chill.


“The victims weren’t living in the same states, and none of them died the same way. Marcel Renault, hit-and-run. Liza Ingram, aka Shirleen Dennis, death by drowning. They haven’t released this info yet, but my source tells me that Nico was shot in a staged burglary. The cops are only connecting the dots now. Whoever’s doing this has a long reach and vast resources.” A muscle leaped restlessly beneath his hair-stubbled cheekbone. “If you think a couple of nighttime patrolmen driving past your house is going to stop them, I would question whether or not you’ve spent your morning sniffing glue.”


He was scaring her, but it only made her want to burrow even deeper into her cocoon. Now that law enforcement knew the deaths were connected, they would catch the perpetrator and it would be over in no time. Surely, if she kept her head down and kept a careful eye out, she’d be all right. She’d done nothing wrong, and she wasn’t about to run off like some sort of criminal. Not when she needed to be here to try to rebuild her business and reputation. Running would only make it look worse than it already did.


She swallowed hard and shook her head. “Be that as it may, I’m not going.”



Gavin flexed his jaw and tried not to let his annoyance come through in his tone. What was that saying about flies and vinegar? He aimed for empathetic. “Listen, Sara. This—”


“Beth,” she interjected primly. “My name is Sarabeth.”


Only steadfast willpower drilled into him at Ranger School kept him from rolling his eyes at her. “Fine,” he conceded with a brisk nod, empathy drying up faster than a slug in the Sahara. “Sarabeth.”


Her full lips were pinched into a determined line, and he nearly groaned. He’d known his share of stubborn women. Hell, he’d even bedded a few. This one took it to new heights. He owed Owen a favor, but begging this fool-headed lass to let him save her life was pushing it. She wanted to stay, no skin off his ass. He’d done his part by driving up and laying the facts out for her.


“This can go one of two ways,” he continued, mind made up. “You can come with me, and do as I tell you. In exchange for your cooperation, I will ensure that you end the month without any more holes in you than the ones God gave you to start. Or you can stay here, and I can tell my old buddy Owen that you opted not to take him up on his generous offer. I’m not exaggerating when I say that nothing would make me happier.”


Her green eyes narrowed, and she shook her head. “It seems we’re in agreement about something, at least. I can think of little I’d want to do less than spend the foreseeable future in your company.” Her tone dripped acid as she shoved her chair away from the table and stood. “Now that we’ve settled that, I need to get to my office.”


Dismissed. She’d been borderline polite about it, as her posh breeding clearly dictated, but it was an obvious dismissal nonetheless. He was officially off the hook. He was about to stand, but some nagging sense of responsibility made him press one last time. “You can’t go on as if nothing’s happening. You do realize that, yes? Can you go away for a while…leave town?”


She shook her head. “Until I hear from the police, I’m staying put. The other deaths happened weeks apart. There’s no reason to believe that, on the off chance I’m viewed as guilty by association in this mess, anything would happen before the authorities have a chance to set up some protection for me if they feel it’s necessary.” She glanced pointedly at the slim gold watch on her wrist. “I’ve really got to go now. Shall I see you out?”


He slapped his thighs and rolled to his feet. “That would be great.” He picked up the fussy miniature cup she’d set in front of him and drained the contents before setting it down. “And thanks for the coffee.”


As she led him through the painfully neat Victorian house, he couldn’t help but watch her move. Even all buttoned-up, she had a real grace about her. The gentle sway of her trim hips held his reluctant gaze captive until she paused next to a table in the entryway. She collected the set of keys resting there and swung the front door open.


“It’s chilly out today. You going to get a coat?” he asked without thinking. He wanted to bite his tongue off. What did he give a shit whether this woman wore a jacket or not? Maybe it was the ridiculous little glasses she wore perched on her nose like a prairie schoolmarm. Maybe it was the fact that, in spite of the bluster, her hands were trembling. Whatever was throwing his protective instincts into overdrive, he didn’t like it.


“Of course,” she said curtly. “After I warm up my car and gather the rest of my things. It was a real pleasure, Mr. McClintock.” As she held out her right hand toward him for a shake and aimed her car remote at the Volvo parked in the driveway with her left, his skin crawled in an all-too-familiar way.


Shit.


“Don’t press tha—”


He was a pretty smart guy and, rationally, he was well aware that light traveled faster than sound. But in that moment, it was all about the boom as the Volvo promptly exploded into a gigantic fireball. Working on pure instinct, he dove forward, tackling the doctor to the hardwood floor like a linebacker. Covering her body with his own, he braced himself for a second explosion or the biting rain of shrapnel. Ten seconds passed, and neither came.


As he waited for the monotone buzzing in his ears to fade, he pushed his torso away from Sarabeth’s to do a cursory inspection. Her eyes had gone glassy with shock, which was to be expected, but he saw no blood or obvious signs of injury.


He rolled off Sarabeth and onto his feet. She stared up at him, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly until he reached for her. “It’s okay. You’re going to be fine, but we’ve got to go. There’s no choice now, Doc.”


She hesitated, but then nodded, still dazed. And when she slipped her elegant hand into his, he couldn’t shake the accompanying sensation of a hook sliding neatly into his gullet.


Well, f**k all.


Chapter Two


Sarabeth stood on shaky legs and tried to focus on Gavin’s lips. He was saying something, but she couldn’t quite make it out…


I’ll gut you.


Well that couldn’t be right—he’d tackled her to the ground in an attempt to protect her.


A-ca-choo.


Clearly not. An absurd giggle built in her throat and spilled over. He didn’t look surprised at all by her bizarre reaction to almost getting blown up. In fact, he rubbed her back in slow, soothing circles while uttering the same words over and over again. Finally, the buzzing in her ears subsided, along with her laughter, and the words became clear.


I’ve got you.


“Th-thanks, I’m okay now,” she said through chattering teeth, and stepped back, wriggling from his all-too-comforting touch.


His tone was low and urgent, piercing her mental fog. “I need you to focus, okay Doc? People are going to start coming outside and see what the fuss is. The cops will be here any minute, I imagine. We need to get gone before that happens. You with me?”


She nodded. “I can’t. I’m not even packed. I need to…” As she turned toward the stairs, he stopped her with a hand on the shoulder.


“No time. We’ll get everything you need on the road.”


He looped an arm around her and navigated her over the glowing chunks of metal that used to be her car littering her front porch and walkway. Thankfully, he’d parked in the street, and she noted dimly that his car looked none the worse for wear. He opened the passenger door and helped her in right as she noticed sirens wailing in the distance.


She slid in and buckled her belt, on autopilot. What in God’s name was she going to do now? She couldn’t possibly stay with this ginormous, intimidating stranger, but at the same time, someone was indeed out to kill her. And if Gavin hadn’t shown up?


She could have wound up with a face full of twisted metal.


A wave of nausea gripped her, and she leaned forward to rest her head on the dashboard. Gavin slid into the driver’s seat a moment later.


“We’re good now. Don’t think about it. Just breathe.”


He slid the key into the ignition and turned it. It wasn’t until it started with a grumble that she realized she’d been holding her breath. A moment later they were on the road, speeding toward the interstate. It would probably be a long time before she was able to get into a vehicle without fear. Yet another thing Nico had stolen from her.


She swallowed hard to dislodge the lump in her throat. How had things turned so ugly in such a short amount of time? It seemed like yesterday that she’d been walking on air over her amazing new job offer. Even her grandfather, who hadn’t approved of anything she’d done since grammar school, had been grudgingly impressed. She should have known it was too good to be true. Great salary, solid benefits, all served up at a stunning locale. And then Lindy and Owen had checked into the retreat, and brought the whole sordid house of cards tumbling down. Lindy had almost been killed in the process.


The guilt rushed back in, displacing the self-pity. Unwittingly or not, she’d been a part of a plot to entrap wealthy clients into cheating on their spouses. Nico had planned to spend six months filming the guests in premeditated sexual situations with select members of the staff, and then disappear into the night with the footage, later to be used to extort money from the guilty parties. But he hadn’t counted on his past coming back to haunt him. Owen had spent months crafting his revenge, and his hard work paid off when he uncovered Nico’s secret. And thank God he had. There were dozens of recordings, and countless lives could’ve been ruined had Nico been able to follow through with his plans.


No matter how hard she tried, no matter that she hadn’t known, she couldn’t seem to scrub that oily smudge off her soul. There were signs, and she’d ignored them. Now people were dead. Maybe she could’ve stopped it before it started, if she’d only paid closer attention. Guilt by way of negligence. Was this the price?


“It’s not your fault.” Gavin’s low voice disrupted her dark thoughts. How had he known?


“You weren’t there. How would you know?” She was so tired all of a sudden, so damned tired.


“I know how it is to blame yourself for something you didn’t do. I’ve played that game before. The ‘what if’ game. It’s an illusion because even if you did everything right, other actions would have affected the outcome. There’s no way to know what would’ve happened.” His strong hands gripped the wheel as he took a corner far faster than she would have. “Suppose you did notice something weird. And suppose you did say something to Nico. What’s to say he wouldn’t have made you disappear right then and carried out his plan anyway?”