Hunter didn’t bother to point out the fallacy in that statement, or how it went against every Shield protocol. Instead, he shoved off from the railing and led the way toward the parking lot. They could talk on the way to Harmony.
“I’ll meet you at Harmony,” Triss said as they stepped around the gate, and she started a fast jog.
“Hold on a minute,” Hunter said, running to catch up with her. “It’s a two-mile trek. It’s pitch-black out here. Let me drive you.”
Hunter kept pace with her, glad he’d taken her advice and dressed in khakis and a dry-fit polo, but his shoes weren’t made for running two miles at Triss’s pace.
“I’ll remember to wear my sneakers tomorrow.”
She slowed to a stop under a corner streetlight, her breathing coming in short huffs. “I run alone,” she told him. “You don’t need to worry about me.” She lifted her right hand, where she had strapped a palm-sized bottle of Mace. “Also, I’m carrying.”
“That Mace won’t do much against a car that runs you off the road. And try reaching that gun if someone jumps out and grabs you from behind. This is insanity, Triss. Either let me drive you, or I guess I’m running next to you the rest of the way.”
Her full lips flattened in frustration, and she looked like she might take off running again. Instead, not saying a word, she started toward the parking lot, her focus set on his truck.
She got there ahead of him, hopped inside and closed the door. Didn’t slam it, like he’d expected her to, though she’d seemed mad enough to attempt a door slam. Hunter got in the driver’s side and pulled out of the lot. He shouldn’t feel bad. He was only doing his job. Even Triss should see that. She was a Shield agent. She had to know that they’d never let an endangered client go on a run alone. But he could see by the rigid set of her profile that they weren’t on the same page here.
“We’re going to need to compromise,” Triss said finally after a long silence.
“One word,” Hunter said. “Treadmill.”
“Not happening.”
“It’s not forever. Hopefully, we’ll get this situation nailed in a week or so, and we can get you back to your routine, and then—”
“I’d rather not run for the next week than run on a treadmill, going nowhere.”
“Well, that’s even easier,” Hunter said. “Take a week off. You could use it right about now.”
“Do me a favor, Hunter. Think of me as a client. We help our clients live and function safely in daily life. They don’t change all their routines.”
She had a point there. “But we have more resources with most of our clients,” Hunter responded. “We’d never let someone go running with just one agent on security detail.”
“Circumstances are different. I’m a trained agent, too.” She glanced at him, fire in her dark eyes. “I’m not going to stop running my route, and I’m not in the market for a running partner.”
“So, you want me to follow at a snail’s pace in my car every day?”
“If you feel the need.”
Hunter sighed and unlocked the doors. “You win.”
* * *
Hunter was probably upset with her for canceling on the party at the last minute. He’d only responded to her text yesterday with an “okay.” If he was upset, though, that could be for the best, she told herself. Hunter would see that she wasn’t the kind of person who could be a reliable mother to his kids, and he would want nothing to do with her. Problem solved.
Predictably, Hunter had caught up with her before she even got out of the parking lot. It was a lonely stretch of road on a Sunday morning, and she had to admit that the headlights from his vehicle following her put her at ease. Granted, the sight of a slow truck following a lone female jogger might prompt a suspicious passerby to call police, but the cars were few and far between, the drivers either disinterested or distracted.
To cool down, Triss usually jogged slowly on the way to Harmony, but she ran faster with Hunter following in his truck, knowing it was torturous to drive at five miles an hour for two miles.
She didn’t want to admit it, but the run was tough on her. Logically, she knew that her two hospital visits and her lack of sleep were to blame, but still she pushed herself, her calves still burning from her bleacher runs, her lungs on fire from her sustained speed.
Suddenly, just behind her, Hunter laid on his horn. Triss gasped, turning toward him in time to see the car.
It seemed to come out of nowhere, headlights off and pedal to the metal. And it was coming straight for her!
For a paralyzed moment, Triss froze, unsure which way to take cover. And then Hunter made the decision for her, as he pulled up next to her and screamed at her to get off the road.
She lunged onto the grass beyond the shoulder as Hunter maneuvered his truck in front of the oncoming car.
Tires screeched, the smaller car spinning out before nicking the front bumper of the truck. The sound of the crash echoed through the surrounding trees before the driver, shrouded in shadows, peeled away from the scene.
Hunter straightened out the truck and pulled up next to Triss. “Hop in.”
She did so quickly, yanking on her seat belt with a trembling hand.
“You okay?” Hunter asked, his gaze probing the darkness to assess her.
“Just shook me up.” She turned to look behind them, but the car had disappeared around the bend.
“Who do we know with a gray sedan?” Hunter asked, pulling onto the road to drive the last quarter mile back to Harmony.
“I don’t know, but it shouldn’t be hard to find out.” She held up her phone, a grainy photo of the license plate filling the screen.
He grinned, impressed. “Good job. In the meantime—treadmill.”
“Right.”
* * *
Triss was correct in her prediction. It didn’t take long to run the plates and discover that the car belonged to Kristy Ingles. The vehicle—and its keys—were missing. But Kristy was sound asleep when Triss and Hunter went banging on her door, her confusion evident. They banged on everyone else’s door, too, but everyone who lived at Harmony was accounted for. It wasn’t long before the car was located, parked in a cul-de-sac of an adjoining neighborhood, close enough for its driver to scale the fence and sneak into Harmony without anyone knowing.
Except for the security cameras.
And that’s how Triss and Hunter ended up in the security office, scrolling through footage to identify who had stolen Kristy’s car.
All they found were three sightings of a shadowed figure wearing bulky clothes and a dark hat in the very early hours—and no way to identify him because only half of the new cameras had been installed. In fact, two of them hadn’t been switched on and connected to the monitoring system.
“First thing on the agenda today—finish installing the cameras,” Hunter said, frustration in his voice.
“I can help after ten,” Triss offered. “I promised George that I’d go with him to church this morning.”
“Church, huh?” He turned toward her, not making a move to leave the quiet office yet.
He knew well her aversion to churches. Three weeks ago, Walter’s funeral had marked the first time she’d entered a church in nearly seven years. As far as she knew, Hunter wasn’t a churchgoer, either.
“The chapel’s right on the property.”
“Just surprised you agreed.”
“Moment of weakness,” she said, reaching for her door latch. “George’s been lonely lately. He was good friends with Frank and Walter. He was all teary-eyed. I don’t handle tears well.” She stood. “Guess I should go grab a shower.”
“About yesterday,” Hunter said, not making a move to leave.
She paused, surprised at the turn of the conversation. “I’m sorry. She wasn’t too upset, was she?”
She could tell b
y the look in his eyes that Josie had been upset, but he was too kind to say it.
“She got over it when I told her she was going to get to help bathe a baby elephant.”
To be fair, she hadn’t thought Josie would be all that disappointed. Apparently, she’d been wrong.
“I feel terrible.”
Hunter ran a hand through his hair and stared at the monitors for a moment before returning his attention to her. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty about it.”
Too late, Triss thought. But she probably deserved it.
“I want to know the truth,” he said, his eyes searching for answers she wasn’t ready to give him.
“I told you I was tired. I shouldn’t have bailed, though, and—”
“The other truth.”
The air in the office stilled as Triss looked into the face of the only person who had ever been able to see right through her facade.
She wanted to deny the other truth, insist that he believe the no-sleep excuse, but something in his eyes broke down her defenses.
For the first time in years, she wanted to tell someone—no, tell him. He’d see, then, what was holding her back. He was an honorable guy, empathetic to the extreme. He’d respect her wishes and stay away, and she would finally be able to confide her loss to someone—even if that meant he would never look at her the same way again.
“I’ve seen you work forty-eight-hour shifts,” he said quietly, his gaze probing. “I’ve seen you power through a week of full-time work and part-time school against doctor’s orders after a concussion. I’ve watched you come back at one hundred percent just one week after a life-threatening stabbing. I know you were tired yesterday. But I want to know what it is you’re not telling me.”
She hadn’t considered telling anyone in years, and now the words sat, uncertain, on the tip of her tongue and the edge of her heart. “Hunter, I—”
A door squeaked open, and she swiveled around as Adam walked in. He stopped short in the doorway, his gaze moving between the two. “Everything okay?” he asked.
“We were just checking something out,” Hunter said.
Triss noticed again Adam’s pale face and the dark circles rimming his eyes. “Are you okay?” she asked, taking advantage of the moment, relieved that they’d been interrupted, her senses coming back to her. Her secret remained safe.
To her surprise, Adam’s eyes glazed over and he shook his head. “My mom was diagnosed with cancer a few weeks ago.” He cleared his throat, his cheeks ruddy.
Triss’s suspicions fled, compassion taking over. They spent the next hour with Adam, and before Triss and Hunter left the security office, they had convinced him to start seeing a counselor to help deal with his grief. They’d also devised a plan to package Creekside Manor dinner leftovers once a week to send over to Adam’s family. Barb often made too much and hated to see food go to waste.
Outside, the sun was rising on another cold fall day. Hunter cocked his head to the side, disappointment drawing the corners of his mouth downward. “Adam saved you this time,” he said. “But I’m not letting this go.”
“I wish you would,” she said, the words coming out in a near whisper as they entered Creekside Manor, which was bustling with activity as most of the residents prepared to go to church.
“Not a chance,” he responded, determination in his voice.
The words were more promise than threat, and as Triss made her way to her apartment to prepare for the day, she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if she told him her secret? What if she just came clean? To Hunter, to Luke, to everyone? The freedom in that idea encouraged her, but she wasn’t sure she was ready. Didn’t know if she ever would be.
TEN
Triss’s apartment door swung open, and she appeared wearing a cream long-sleeve blouse of what looked like the softest satin paired with gray dress pants and heels. She looked ready to go to work, except for her hair. She’d straightened it but had left it loose instead of wrapping it up in a ponytail. Shiny locks spilled nearly halfway down her back.
“Ready?” Hunter asked.
She shrugged. “I guess so.” She looked ruefully at her pants. “I don’t own any dresses. They might not even let me in.”
“Wishful thinking,” Hunter said with humor. They walked down the hallway and outside into the chilly, sunny morning. Ahead of them, others were already on their way to the chapel, most chatting with one another and making their way leisurely. Hunter identified with Triss’s lack of enthusiasm. He’d grown up going to church, but since moving out and starting his own life, he’d only really ever been a holiday churchgoer.
He’d always believed in God, but had never bought into the idea of God as an approachable friend who was involved in every aspect of his life. Instead, he had a general impression of a God who watched from afar and intervened only occasionally, and usually unpredictably.
They passed Silverwood and Emerald, and then turned left on the paved walkway, the chapel coming into view. It sat like a sacred sanctuary at the edge of the property, shaded by maples in their fall glory, the trickle of a narrow stream sounding in the woods beyond. He’d taken several patrolling loops around the property over the past couple of days, and he had to admit it was a peaceful place. The chapel itself was small and quaint, built with white bricks and topped with a rather large bell that gently rang each hour. It could barely be heard at the front of the Harmony community, but now it began to ring for the 9:00 a.m. service, its peaceful chiming echoing over the area.
George was waiting by the entrance, smiling as Triss approached. He wore black dress pants and a suit jacket with a bright yellow tie. He handed Triss a Bible. “You made it. I brought you one of my extras,” he said, then glanced at Hunter. “Didn’t think to bring two.”
“We can share,” Hunter replied, feeling a little sorry for the guy. If he thought that opening a Bible and sitting through a church service was going to change either Triss’s or Hunter’s life, he was going to come away sorely disappointed. And, according to Triss, he was already struggling with depression.
“Thanks, George,” Triss said, tucking the Bible under her arm and linking her other arm with his as they walked through the double doors. “Show us the way.”
Predictably, George ushered them directly to the front, choosing seats in the second row of pews. Hunter glanced around the congregation as the pews began to fill in. He’d rather stand near the entrance and keep a view of everyone from there, but he knew that Adam would be stationed there, and it was more important that Hunter stick with Triss.
Kaye sat at the piano, a soft look of contentment on her face as she played through the familiar hymn of “Amazing Grace,” and then faded the music out as a young man in a fitted gray suit with a blue tie made his way to the front.
“Good morning, friends!” he said with a welcoming smile. “Join me in the Lord’s Prayer.”
Hunter found himself reciting the prayer by rote, the familiar verses tumbling out, despite not having repeated them in years. Next to him, Triss quietly spoke the words as well, which also surprised him. Even though her brother seemed to live by a deep faith, Triss had never given any indication that she’d felt connected to religion in any way.
He settled against the hard oak pew, resisting the urge to drape his arm over Triss’s shoulders. A sense of peace seemed to wash over him within the walls of a church. It was something he’d always noticed about church growing up, and when he went with the kids for Christmas and Easter. He imagined that peace was tied to childhood traditions and had never thought much of it.
The congregation sang hymns from traditional hard-backed hymnals to Kaye’s solo piano accompaniment, and then the young pastor launched into his sermon. Hunter, as per usual, zoned out. He wished again that they were sitting closer to the back. He wanted to observe the occupants of the room, but from his vantage point, he could onl
y keep an eye on a dozen or so of the churchgoers.
Next to him, Triss was opening the borrowed Bible, flipping to the New Testament in search of the verses the pastor had posted on the projector screen.
She found the book of John, turning the delicate pages gently until she’d found the right chapter and verse. So, she knew her way around the Bible as well as the Lord’s Prayer. Interesting.
Absently, he read the verse—I am the light of the world: he that followeth Me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life. Something stirred in his heart at the words, but he ignored it. He’d never spent much time pondering verses from the Bible; had never found much of what he had read to be applicable.
The pastor continued with his sermon, which seemed to revolve around the theme of bringing darkness to light. Bringing secrets out so they lose their power. The message didn’t apply to Hunter. He was a face-value kind of guy, and about as secretive as his gregarious two-year-old.
A while later, he realized, belatedly, that everyone had bowed their heads and the sermon was coming to a close through prayer. Dutifully, he bowed his head, but kept his eyes open, always on alert.
Still, he tuned into the words as the pastor prayed against the pull of darkness in the world. It was a prayer of blessing, a prayer of hope. But Hunter saw a flash of his life.
Darkness.
But, no. He would never describe his life as dark. Despite his wife’s death and his kids missing out on a mother, he was fairly content—even happy—with his life. Why those words struck his heart so sharply, he couldn’t identify. Was it possible to live in darkness and not realize it?
A teardrop landed on the open page in Triss’s lap, and she swiped it away, swiftly closing the Bible. He glanced at her profile, but her hair hid her face as she prayed, and he couldn’t detect her emotions.
The pastor ended the prayer and finally dismissed everyone.
Triss stood, the only sign of emotion a barely detectable glossiness in her eyes.
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