“It’s a peaceful place,” Hunter agreed. “Thanks for the help.” He followed her instructions and walked around the corner, finding the first door on the left open. He tapped on the wall outside the door and peeked in.
The man at the desk wore black slacks and a gray uniform shirt A brown desk plaque gave the name Vince Beck. He looked up from his computer monitor in surprise, his hand coming up to adjust his too-long comb-over.
“Yes?” the man asked, his gruff voice matching his bulky frame.
Hunter stepped into the room and held out a hand, “I’m Hunter Knox. A friend of mine is one of the graduate students here at Harmony—Triss Everett.”
Vince smiled and relaxed, shaking Hunter’s hand. “How can I help you?”
Without much information yet, Hunter wanted to be careful with his words. His purpose tonight was to get a feel for the security at Harmony, and also the receptiveness of the team to making some adjustments.
“You may know that Triss works for Shield Protection Services. We’re coworkers, actually.”
Vince’s expression was suddenly amused. “Oh, yes, we all know about Triss and her focus on security. She’s always got new ideas she wants us to put in place, but Harmony hasn’t ever had a security problem. I say, if it ain’t broke, why fix it?”
Hunter didn’t see the humor Vince obviously saw, and took note that he would likely meet resistance when trying to implement any changes. Vince seemed a little too comfortable with his job. He was a big guy, probably in his late thirties. He carried a little extra weight around his midsection, but otherwise he appeared fit. He didn’t wear a wedding ring, and there were no family photos anywhere in his office.
Hunter forced a smile. “It’s a beautiful place. My mom was here for a while.” He started. “Maybe you knew her—Wendy Knox?”
Vince shook his head. “Doesn’t ring a bell, but I’ve only been here three years.”
Hunter nodded. “She passed before that, but sure enjoyed her time here. In fact, I know others who are considering it for their parents. Would you mind giving me a quick rundown of your security protocols?”
“Oh, sure,” Vince said, motioning for Hunter to take a seat as he turned a wide-screen computer monitor toward him. The monitor showed four grainy scenes at a time. “This here’s our monitor,” Vince began, and Hunter suppressed a sigh. This was going to be worse than he’d expected.
* * *
A half hour later, Hunter was thinking about the practically nonexistent security at Harmony and wondering how quickly Shield could convince Harmony management to make improvements. A private security company, Shield designed, installed and manned custom security systems for residences and businesses. Due to the nature of the work, agents often served as both bodyguards and investigators, reporting suspicious activity and passing tips on to police. Usually, potential clients approached Shield for help. Bringing a proposal to Harmony would likely be a hard sell. Maybe bringing his kids to the facility the next day would be a good first step. That way, he could get a feel for the place without making anyone uneasy.
He pulled into the first grocery store he saw, heading quickly inside and grabbing a basket. He’d only managed to grab bananas and frozen chicken nuggets when his cell phone rang, the number unfamiliar.
“Hello?” he answered, snagging a pack of mini doughnuts for his kids in the morning.
“Is this Hunter Knox?” a woman’s voice asked.
He recognized the voice, and his heart pitched. “Yes. What’s wrong, Kaye?” He was setting his basket on a closed register before she could even answer, heading straight for the exit.
“It’s Triss. She just left the dining hall. I followed her and she told me she was very tired. Unlike her. It’s not even seven o’clock. And she looked...funny.”
“Funny, how?”
“I can’t really say. Her eyes looked kind of glazed. Maybe I’m overreacting...”
“I’m heading back now.”
“Hurry, okay?”
“You got it.” Hunter was already running to his truck. He slammed the door shut and peeled out of the parking lot.
This is what he’d been afraid of—a head injury or an internal injury that hadn’t made itself known immediately. He should have forced her to get checked out after the accident. Well, she wouldn’t argue with him this time. He would go over there and knock on her door until she opened it, and then he was going to drive her straight to the hospital—even if he had to drag her.
THREE
Kaye was waiting for Hunter on the porch, a young man at her side.
“She won’t answer her phone or her door,” Kaye told him as she turned back to Creekside Manor. “We called 911.”
The man next to her opened the door for them.
“Do we have a key to her room?” Hunter asked.
“Stella—she’s the owner—said we can’t open it until the police arrive,” Kaye said. “She thinks I’m overreacting.”
“She’s only been in her room fifteen minutes,” the young man pointed out, and Hunter glanced over at him as they headed down the hall together. He wore black Adidas pants and a white compression shirt, as if he was heading out or coming from the gym. His hair was dark, thick and gelled up high with the ends bleached blond.
“I’m Zach,” the guy volunteered. “I’m one of the student residents.”
“Did you see Triss?” Hunter asked.
Zach shook his head. “I mean, I saw her today, but she seemed fine. I was just keeping Kaye company.”
“He didn’t think I should call 911, either,” Kaye said, her thin lips pressing together, the lipstick from earlier long since faded. She was worried, like a mother would be, her hands clasped tightly in front of her as they hurried to Triss’s room.
“When did you call?”
“Just before you pulled in. I couldn’t wait any longer. Something’s wrong, I know it.”
When they reached Triss’s apartment, Hunter rang the bell, and then pounded on the door loud enough to wake anyone on the entire property who might be taking a nap.
“What’s going on?” a voice called from the commons, and footsteps hurried down the hall.
“That’s Stella,” Kaye said.
“Good.”
Hunter met the woman and extended a hand in greeting. “I’m Hunter Knox, Triss’s friend. We need to get into her apartment.”
Stella stared calmly up at him. She was more than a foot shorter than Hunter, but wasn’t at all intimidated. She shook his hand. “Hunter, I’m Stella. I appreciate that you’re a friend of Triss’s, but I don’t know you from Harry. As I told Kaye, we’ll need to wait for the police to get here. For all we know, Triss left the building and no one saw her. Maybe that’s why she’s not answering.”
“No. I’ve been watching her door.” Kaye lifted her chin in argument. “And calling her.”
“Well, I know for a fact you left the door a couple of times, because—”
“Look,” Hunter interrupted. “I don’t want to waste any more time. We have two options here. You can either give me the key to her room and let me take the fall for breaking and entering if she decides to bring charges, or I can break this door down and pay for the damages later. One way or another, I’m getting in this room, and I’m not waiting for the police.”
Stella’s eyes narrowed, anger and alarm in her expression. “I think I’m going to have to go with option number three,” she said, taking a step back. “I’ll need to call Security.”
She turned on her heel and started to walk away. That was fine with Hunter. He’d get the door open before Security arrived, and then, if Triss needed help, she’d get it.
He tested the door, sliding a credit card up the jamb and noting that she’d locked the dead bolt. He’d have to break it down.
“Just give him the key, Stella!” someone shouted. “Poor Triss wouldn�
��t want her door smashed!”
Hunter looked over and realized that several residents had gathered in the hall, as well as a handful of staff, all watching with a mixture of surprise and horror.
Stella hesitated, and so did Hunter.
“Yeah, give him the key,” a gentleman said, and Hunter recognized him as the emotional man Triss had been speaking with earlier at the reception. “We need to make sure she’s okay.”
“Policy is that—”
“Do you smell that?” Kaye interrupted just as the odor registered with Hunter.
Smoke.
“Oh, no!” Kaye exclaimed, pointing to the bottom of the door, where a barely visible stream of smoke curled upward into the hallway.
“Here!” Stella moved forward and thrust the key into Hunter’s hand.
Wasting no time, he unlocked the door and opened it into smoke so thick and hot that he reared back, coughing.
“Get everyone out!” he yelled behind him, but the crowd was already scrambling for the exits. He shrugged off his jacket, then pressed it to his mouth and nose as a makeshift mask as he entered the hazy apartment. Why wasn’t the smoke alarm going off? Where was Triss?
Fire licked up the wall of the kitchen, spreading fast. Hunter ignored the sting of smoke in his eyes and all the common sense that told him to get out now and hope the fire department arrived in time. That wasn’t an option. Not until he knew Triss wasn’t there.
The small living room was empty and he raced to the adjoining door, which he assumed led to her bedroom.
He swung the door open, almost expecting it to be empty. Hoping, at this point, that it would be. That Triss was long gone and far away from the fire. But in the dark, as smoke billowed into the room, a shadow of a figure was visible on the bed.
He rushed in. Triss was lying on top of the covers, on her side, her funeral clothes and boots still on.
“Triss!” He quickly turned her onto her back, knew he didn’t have much time. Her arm fell to her side—her body was slack but warm to the touch. A good sign. Probably a concussion, he told himself, though doubt lingered. She hadn’t shown any signs of a concussion, and hadn’t said she’d hit her head.
No time to dwell on questions. He scooped her into his arms and ran out to the living room as fire crackled and shot across the doorway. He maneuvered around the fire, losing his battle for breath. The door to the hallway beckoned, even as his steps slowed. He couldn’t gather a breath, and he nearly fell just yards from the hallway.
But the faces of his children flashed through his mind and he silently begged for strength from the God he rarely talked to. He was moments from losing all ability to escape...and then he was in the hall, the smoke still thick but clearing.
Sirens sounded loudly outside the facility, and Hunter ran for an exit, cradling Triss close to his chest until he stumbled outside, cold air hitting him with stark relief. A cough took hold, and he moved across the lawn farther from the facility until he’d found the edge of the parking lot, where a crowd of residents and staff had gathered.
“Is she okay?” Kaye asked, rushing up to him as he lowered himself to the curb, keeping a secure hold on Triss.
A fire engine pulled into the lot, followed by an ambulance and police cruiser.
“I don’t know,” Hunter said as his coughs subsided and he looked at Triss’s face. “But she’s breathing.”
He set a hand to Triss’s forehead, then to the top of her scalp, feeling for any lump he couldn’t see. Nothing out of the ordinary, he thought, as her silky hair tangled in his fingers. She seemed to be in a deep sleep, though. He was hoping it was a concussion, because other internal injuries could mean worse. But at least she’d escaped the fire. A shudder ran along his spine and he gently pushed her hair away from her eyes. If Kaye hadn’t called... He shook his head, refusing to consider what could have happened. Paramedics were heading toward them with a stretcher, and as he helped maneuver her onto the gurney, he told himself that she was going to be okay. Only a little while ago, she’d been perfectly fine, eating and chatting and helping at the reception. She was in good hands, and he’d done everything he could do.
But experience told him that sometimes doing everything in his power wasn’t good enough, and as he took a seat in the ambulance next to her, dread tightened in the pit of his stomach. If he’d learned nothing else from his wife’s death, he’d learned that bad things happened that sometimes no one could control. He clenched his fists, staring at Triss’s closed eyes, her slack jaw, her wild hair, and he hoped—even conceded to pray—that she would pull through.
* * *
Triss had woken up in hospitals enough to recognize where she was. The question was—why?
A hand squeezed hers, and she looked to her right, her brother’s face coming into focus.
“Hey,” Luke said quietly. “You’re awake.”
He leaned over her, his dark brown eyes searching her face for answers.
“What happened?” she asked, her voice raw.
“We’re not sure. Your friend Kaye called Hunter and told him that you’d gotten suddenly tired and your eyes looked strange. He found you unconscious on your bed.”
Triss frowned, reaching for memories of the afternoon. “Hunter?”
“Remember the car accident?”
The accident. Scenes flashed in her mind. The car bursting into flames. Hunter carrying her to his truck, then following her around at Harmony, pretending he wanted to help. But he’d been watching her, worried.
“I do. And I remember the reception.” She searched for images, memories. “But I don’t remember going to my room.”
“We’re still waiting on some labs. So far, the MRI and CT scans came up clear. They were worried about internal injuries from the wreck.” He reached over and pressed the call button on her hospital bed.
“How can I help you?” a voice asked through the speaker.
“Triss woke up. The nurse asked me to notify her.”
“She’ll be right down.”
“I’d better text Hunter. I made him go home two hours ago.”
Triss’s heart jumped. “He was here?”
“Rode in the ambulance with you. Stayed until I got here and wouldn’t go home.” Luke glanced up from his phone. There was a question in his eyes, but he didn’t ask it, and Triss wasn’t going to volunteer anything.
There was nothing to volunteer.
She liked Hunter.
A lot.
He reminded her of everything she’d always craved in a relationship but didn’t believe she deserved. He’d married the love of his life fresh out of high school, and when she’d passed away shortly after the birth of their second child, he hadn’t missed a beat in becoming the kind of dad who is always present and loving. He was a hard worker, a man of integrity, and his patience and sense of humor when it came to his kids was something that Triss had not witnessed often. Spending time with him and his little family always made her heart ache over what she could have had if she’d been brave enough to tell Luke the truth.
“You know, you’ll give me a heart attack if you keep winding up in the hospital,” Luke said.
Triss smirked, despite herself. She’d had quite a run of hospital emergencies since becoming a Shield agent. “You’re the most levelheaded guy I’ve ever known. A few ER visits can’t touch that.”
His phone dinged and he glanced at it. “Hunter’s on his way.”
Triss squinted at the clock, unable to make out the time in the dark room. “What time is it?”
“Twelve thirty.”
“In the morning?”
Luke nodded. “You were out for hours.”
She stared up at him. There was something about his body language. Something he wasn’t telling her. He was tapping a finger on his leg, his gaze moving around the room. Luke had practically raised he
r and their brother, Cal, minus the years they’d spent bouncing around in foster care. He’d become their legal guardian when he was twenty-one and she was ten. He was easy to read. She was about to ask him what was up when the door opened and a petite nurse walked in, her smile kind. She wore her hair in a large, gorgeous bun of thick, black braids.
“Hello, Ms. Triss,” she said with a lilting foreign accent as she came to her bedside. Triss couldn’t place the accent, but there was something nurturing and genuine in the tone and inflection. “My name is Bethlehem, but you can call me Betty.” She set a gentle hand on Triss’s shoulder. “How are we feeling? You took a nice, long nap, yes?”
Triss relaxed, immediately at ease. “I feel okay. A little light-headed.”
“Any pain anywhere?”
“Just a headache, but it’s mild.”
Betty nodded. “Good, good. I have notified the doctor you are awake. He is on his way up. Would you like some water?”
“Please.” She was unusually thirsty. And nervous, to be honest. What had landed her in the hospital? If the scans were all clear, what else could have caused her to lose consciousness? And why couldn’t she remember anything after consoling George Wyrick before the reception began?
Betty poured a cup of water and handed it to her. “You ring me if you need me,” she said. “I’m glad to see you awake and talking. And I’m sure your brother is, too.” She patted Luke’s back. “You have a good brother here, yes, you do.”
Triss suppressed an eye roll at Luke’s amused smile. “He doesn’t let me forget it.”
Betty grinned and started for the door, but stopped. “Where’s that handsome young man-friend that came with her?”
“On his way,” Luke said, and Betty nodded with satisfaction.
“He’s a good man, too, he is.”
She left the room, pulling the door closed behind her.
Triss looked at Luke, setting her attention on him. “What aren’t you telling me?”
His finger stopped tapping, a beat passing as his eyes focused on the bag of fluid attached to her IV. She was right. He was keeping something from her.
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