by Davy, Wendy;
Skylar’s face paled. “That must’ve been awful for you. How can you stand being around him?”
“It’s been difficult, I’ll admit. But for the sake of his victims, I’ve bided my time. He’s been hurting people for too long. He’ll be exposed in due time.”
“Why wait? Why not go to the police with me now? Aston will go to prison where he belongs.”
“Trust me. He will, but not yet.” Slade’s resolve hardened. “Without the insurance money, Sarah had to sell her house to pay her husband’s medical expenses. Her entire savings is gone. She and Lily have been living with me for the past couple of months. I love having them close, but Sarah needs her independence. She deserves her own life.” He drew in a breath. “If Barnes is arrested before I recover my sister’s money, she’ll never see it again. She and Lily won’t have the secure future they deserve.”
Slade would like to ride in on a white horse, be the invincible man, and make everything right again. Except, he hadn’t ever ridden a horse, and he was far from heroic. If he’d been anything close, Lily would’ve been spared her unending nightmares. Sarah wouldn’t cry herself to sleep at night.
Fisting his hands, Slade shoved aside useless regrets and refocused. “We lost the money trail after tracing it through multiple trust funds set up through shell companies in at least three different countries. This goes deep. This money has bounced around like a ping-pong ball. But, I recently obtained the password to Barnes’s laptop. I need to access the hard drive and look for the account where the money landed. Once I find it, we’ll go to the police together.”
“And then your undercover justice will be served.”
“God willing and if you trust me, it will.”
“You’re asking for a lot of trust in a short amount of time. Do your clients trust you from the get-go?”
“They have to. It’s in the contract. Hesitating to follow my orders can mean the difference between life and death.”
“So, are you saying if I choose to stay with you I have to do everything you tell me?” She leaned forward, a challenge sparking in her gorgeous green eyes.
Whoa. Yes, her eyes were passionate, mesmerizing even. But, gorgeous? That moved his initial attraction to an entirely different playing field. Better be careful. Distractions like that could wreak havoc during a protection detail. “I’m saying, in return for your cooperation, I will protect you.” He chose his next words carefully. “But during the heat of the moment my directives are not up for discussion.”
Her gaze held steady, but her face flushed. “I won’t be bossed around or set aside like a fragile doll. I have a vested interest in Aston’s arrest, which makes me an equal partner.”
Slade scraped a hand across the nape of his neck. Again, he admired Skylar’s spunk, but she was in too deep already. “Barnes will try to kill you if he knows you’re still alive. I won’t place you in further danger.”
She lifted a brow. “Since when is that your call?”
“Since you landed in my arms. Desperate and afraid.” He softened his tone, removing the edge. “I promised you everything would be all right, and I fully intend on remaining by your side until it is.”
11
The personal tone to Slade’s voice sent a wave of warmth through Skylar. In the space of a heartbeat, he had changed from cut-and-dry to endearing. Yes, the man had his own agenda, but she believed he had pure intentions.
In the van she’d had no reason to believe he wanted her safe. Now, his offer to protect her made sense. As much as she’d like to think she could handle anything that came her way, she wasn’t equipped to deal with Aston. If she didn’t have to face this alone, she wouldn’t. But what about Hayworth’s missing money? Would Slade be willing to help sort out that puzzle?
Skylar nipped her lower lip as she debated. Maybe he could help, but involving him would mean explaining her past.
“Is there something you want to tell me?” Slade asked.
Her heart palpitated; those assessing eyes missed nothing. His years as a detective had obviously honed his skills, but it wouldn’t take much to read her thoughts—she didn’t have a poker face. At least that’s what her arresting officers had said. The detectives had read the guilt on her face and recorded her confession. They’d shown no mercy as they’d taken her into custody, bound her wrists in handcuffs.
Would Slade treat her differently if he knew? Would his compassion turn to stone? He might even decide she wasn’t worth protecting. She couldn’t take the chance. Better to deal with the account fraud first. But how could she convince Slade to give her the space and time she needed?
“A lot has happened. I’m just…trying to figure it all out.” She hedged, hoping her answer would assuage his curiosity.
Slade lifted a brow as if he wasn’t buying her explanation, but the waitress appeared with the food, breaking the intense moment. Once she left, Slade said a brief blessing and then dug into his omelet before polishing off the sides of hash browns and grits. He drained his coffee in a few large gulps, finishing his entire meal in less than ten minutes.
“You’re not eating.” He nodded toward Skylar’s untouched plate.
She hadn’t regained her appetite but tried a few bites. The blueberry pancakes tasted like sawdust, and the bacon lacked flavor. She managed a few mouthfuls, but couldn’t stomach any more.
The missing money had to be dealt with as soon as possible. “I’ll come with you. But I need to go home and take care of a few things first.”
Slade shook his head, resolute determination in his gaze. “It’s too dangerous.”
“I need a few hours sleep. I need to pack clothes and take care of my bills.” And she lived only a couple miles from Uncle Winston. He always woke early to have prayer time. She could jog to his house, talk to him, and then get back home before Slade even knew she’d gone. “That’s the best I can do on such short notice. I’ll call you when I’m ready to leave. And if anything happens to me, it’ll be on my shoulders. Not yours.” When he looked to argue again, she hardened her resolve. “It’s the only way I’ll agree.”
Slade leaned closer, lowered his voice. “You would have to use the back entrance. Keep your blinds closed and use a flashlight. No turning on house lights. Don’t let your neighbors see you. Don’t call anyone. And I’ll be parked across the street in case something happens. That’s the only way I’ll agree.”
Having Slade watching the condo would make it difficult to visit her uncle, but if she argued with him, he’d grow suspicious. Besides, she could slip out the back and use a side street. “Fair enough.”
“Good. And to make things crystal clear, as far as everyone you know is concerned the moment you left work tonight you became a missing person.”
12
Skylar stood in her living room, restless. In familiar surroundings, she could imagine the entire night’s events surreal. But with Slade Marshal checking each room for trespassers she couldn’t deny this was really happening; the man filled her space with an enigmatic presence like none she’d experienced. With wide shoulders and thick biceps designed to protect, his raw masculinity comforted rather than intimidated. He’d come prepared, too. Before entering he’d withdrawn a gun from an ankle holster. She shouldn’t have been surprised considering his profession and his past as a police detective. But still, seeing the glint of steel in his hands had her heart hammering with both anticipation and relief. If someone was inside, Slade would handle them.
As he continued his search, which shouldn’t take long in the one-thousand square foot condo, she allowed herself to appreciate being home. Her modest surroundings may not be impressive by the world’s standards, but they were hers. Raspberry air fresheners scented the space, along with hints of the cinnamon bread she’d toasted for breakfast. She’d left the morning paper on the small coffee table, and her favorite afghan was strewn across the periwinkle couch. How long before she could cuddle on the soft cushions and read a romance novel? Would she ever again feel compl
etely at ease?
Slade exited the spare bedroom and checked out the bathroom. He yanked open the shower curtain. The man was thorough, she’d give him that.
He stepped into the living room and stashed his weapon. “It’s clear. But I still don’t like leaving you here alone.”
Her semblance of calm shattered. She couldn’t allow him to stay. She wouldn’t have a chance to slip out undetected. “I’d invite you to crash on the couch.” She glanced at the sectional. “But I don’t let men stay at my place overnight.”
The corners of his lips lifted. “I don’t invite women to stay over at my place either.”
The man surprised her at every turn. “That’s good to know.”
“Is it?” Amusement sounded in his voice, and he stepped closer. “Why’s that?”
Heat radiated across her cheeks. “I’ve met Christian men that act as if God’s commandments are more like optional suggestions.”
He moved in so close his spicy aftershave mingled with her raspberry fresheners, making for an interesting, if not enticing mixture. “I’ve made my fair share of mistakes. I learned the hard way that God’s boundaries are meant to protect us, not keep us on a leash.” The flashlight’s beam illuminated his face enough to outline his sincere expression.
Wow. The man had some life experiences to work with. Either that, or God had given him divine wisdom. “You don’t feel confined by His commandments?”
“In contrast, I’ve found following God’s guidance is more freeing than anything I’ve ever known.” Slade’s earnest tone as well as his words grabbed her attention.
“I’m still learning. I’ve only been a Christian a few years. You’ve probably always been one.” Yeah, she was prodding for info. Why not? If she had to trust the man, she needed justification.
“I was eight years old when I sat on my living room couch alongside my mother and gave my life to Christ. But I’m still learning, too. ”
“So you were raised with Christian parents?”
“I was. And you?”
Oh, why had she brought this up? Her heart thudded a little harder. “I don’t remember my parents. My grandmother raised me. She took me to church, but I got into my fair share of trouble as a teenager. I had a difficult time believing that Jesus would love me enough to die for me.”
“What happened to make you believe?”
“A few years ago, I was in a situation where I had no one else but Him to turn to. I hit the lowest point in my life before I could see the light.” She cleared her throat. “I guess that sounds bad to someone who’s believed for so long?”
“No. It sounds like God was determined to reach you.” Slade’s voice held no condemnation, only compassion. He took her hand in his and squeezed.
Skylar’s palm warmed at his touch, and her defenses slipped. She could get used to spending time with a man like this—empathetic, strong, and most importantly, faithful. Had God meant for them to cross paths? If Slade hadn’t been in the van, she didn’t even know if she’d still be alive. “I want you to know I am glad we met tonight,” she said.
“Me, too.” His gaze lingered on hers a moment, and then he cleared his throat, released her hand and took a step back. “I’d better go.” He gave her the flashlight. “I’ll exit through the back. Lock up. If anything happens, turn on a light. It won’t take me more than a minute to get here from across the street.” With a quick nod, he turned and exited.
What had just happened? Had she imagined the not-so-subtle connection forming between them? Had he felt it, too? Is that why he’d left so abruptly?
Thoughts tumbling, Skylar followed his path to the backdoor and slipped the deadbolt into place.
“Sleep tight.”
Skylar jumped at Slade’s voice. He’d been listening for the lock to engage. He was looking out for her, and she was about to sneak away. Guilt nudged her, but she tamped down the gut reaction. She had a plan, and she couldn’t let contradictory emotions get in the way.
She needed to clear her muddled thoughts. A couple hours sleep and a hot shower would help with that. Then she’d be ready to head out. It would only take about ten minutes at a clipped pace to get to Uncle Winston’s two story on Kingsland Drive—she hoped. The neighbor’s dog posed a risk. The pit bull slept outside, and although she wouldn’t trespass onto their property she had to use the sidewalk next to their chain-link fence. The dog could bark and draw the attention of not only Slade, but anyone else who might be watching.
Lord, please help me not to become a real missing person’s case.
13
Slade cracked the sedan’s window and shifted into a more comfortable position. It had been months since he’d run overnight surveillance, and the long hours had taken a toll. If he was on a routine protection detail he would call in Ryder or another team member for a shift change; he desperately needed to stretch his legs, and he could use a bathroom break. As it stood, he’d have to wait it out at least another hour.
His thoughts turned to Skylar and the moments before he’d bolted out of her condo. The discussion they’d shared in her living room had become personal, and when he’d touched her hand, his initial attraction had turned into something tangible.
He’d even been tempted to kiss her.
Good thing he hadn’t. She’d spent the better part of last night fearing for her life, and a large portion of that time included fearing him. She probably would’ve ducked away, or smacked him. As much as he’d like to think his ego could take the hit, he liked Skylar and didn’t relish the idea of being rejected.
A dog barked from somewhere behind Skylar’s condo, commanding Slade’s full and immediate attention. He straightened, picked up the binoculars. No lights glowed beyond her curtain covered windows, and no one lurked in the shadows outside. He hadn’t seen any trace of Barnes, Mayhew, or their van.
Could be a coincidence. The dog could have targeted a raccoon or other animal. But the hairs on the nape of Slade’s neck stood on end, telling him otherwise. He set aside the binoculars, grabbed the flashlight, and stepped out. The crisp air invigorated his senses as he took long strides across the street and into the yard. Skylar’s condo was an end unit situated next to a side street, which made it easy to conduct a quick, thorough search.
Motion sensor lights illuminated the small yard as he rounded the backside, checking windows and doors. Nothing suspicious caught his eye. The dog settled its insistent barking slowing to occasional muffled growls. But that didn’t quell Slade’s unease. He might be overreacting, but he’d trust his gut. He’d check in with Skylar.
He dialed her number. A standard, canned greeting sounded as the line immediately went to voicemail. Had she turned off her phone? Or had someone done it for her?
Apprehension tightened his chest. He approached the backdoor and knocked, hard. “Skylar, it’s me.”
No response.
He pounded a fist against the wood. “Are you all right?”
Still nothing.
His concern skyrocketed. He tried calling again with the same results. He aimed the flashlight toward the door. He could break one of six small glass window panes, reach in, and release the deadbolt—
Slade’s gaze zoned in on the slight gap between the door and the frame. No marks or abrasions marred the wood, but the deadbolt no longer sat nestled in the strike plate. He tested the doorknob. It turned easily in his hand. His internal alarm blasted a warning. Had someone duplicated a key and gained entry? Then again, a woman living alone would guard access to her keys. Perhaps she’d unlocked the door from the inside. But why? Had something or someone scared her away? Why hadn’t she run to him?
Withdrawing his gun with one hand, he shoved open the door with the other. “Skylar?”
No answer. Heart beating wild, he strode inside. In the living room, the sofa cushions had been straightened, the afghan neatly folded. The mail that had been piled on the kitchen counter had been sorted into stacks.
Slade bypassed the main living s
pace, stepped down the hall to the bedroom only to find it empty. The queen size bed was made, a duffle bag and purse sat ready and waiting on the satin comforter.
There were only a couple more rooms in the condo, but he didn’t give up hope.
He checked the bathroom. Water droplets covered the shower curtain and ran in rivulets down the mirror while scents of fruity shampoo lingered as if she’d bathed only minutes ago. The remaining rooms—a spare bedroom and laundry area—were also vacant.
Slade scrubbed a hand down his face, exhaling pent-up breath. With no signs of forced entry and nothing to indicate Skylar had been under duress, he could only come to one conclusion: she’d left of her own volition. But why? Where would she go without her bags?
Unless she planned to come back.
Hayworth. The answer came on a winged whisper as if spoken by an angel.
Of course. She’d sneaked out to visit her uncle. It all made sense: her insistence on going home, the close proximity to Hayworth’s house, her refusal to allow Slade to remain inside overnight.
Slade ground his teeth, snatched her bags off the bed, and stormed out with no doubt in his mind that Skylar Hart, the sweet, gorgeous strawberry blonde with the seductive green eyes, had played him.
14
Skylar couldn’t remember if she’d locked the door. Tempted to go back and check, she hesitated about five blocks away from home. No. She’d already riled the neighbor’s dog once. Even if Slade hadn’t checked out the disturbance the first time, he certainly would the second go round. Better to play it safe and keep moving.
Forest Lake had a multitude of curvy roads splintering off in all directions. Skylar’s particular community had three major offshoots. One road led toward downtown, another toward a rural farming community, and the third led toward the upper class district and Uncle Winston’s house.
As she took the turn onto his street, she looked over her shoulder. She didn’t see anyone. Still, she couldn’t shake the ominous feeling that someone was close. She regained momentum, jogging along the sidewalk as her hastily thrown together ponytail swished side to side.