Her answer sounded rehearsed. He’d questioned terrorists before. He should know when a person was lying, and Abby was trying to sell him a big, fat one right now.
“A personal retreat sounds nice. Where are you from?”
“Michigan,” she said. “The Upper Peninsula.”
“I didn’t peg your accent for up there.” Jaxon’s roommate had been from Muskegon. He’d never called it the Upper Peninsula. It was always the U.P., and he’d always demonstrated where it was by using his hand as a mitten. He’d said it was a Michigan thing.
“I grew up all over, so I don’t really have an accent,” she said. “At least, that’s what people tell me.”
“I’m surprised there weren’t any places closer to home where you’d want to go for a retreat.” Jaxon knew he was pushing, but he wanted answers. He couldn’t help her unless he had answers, even though the woman hadn’t asked for his assistance. She probably wouldn’t even accept his help if he offered. That didn’t stop him.
“There’s just something about the Smoky Mountains that puts my mind at ease. What can I say?” The words came out lighthearted, and the shrug Abby offered seemed to match.
But Jaxon still wasn’t buying it.
“I can understand that. What is it that you do for a living?” That was small talk, right? Why did it feel like an interrogation? Jaxon tried to keep his tone light, even though he knew he was failing.
“I work in a restaurant.” She rubbed her hands across her jeans. “It doesn’t pay great, but I really like it.”
Her voice softened some, as if she were relieved that she didn’t have to lie again.
“I see.” He wanted to ask more, but he stopped himself.
Abby cleared her throat and glanced at him. Or had that been a twitch? “Enough about me, how about you? Let me guess, military?”
Jaxon’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “How did you know?”
“You can always tell the military guys. They carry themselves differently.”
Jaxon couldn’t argue with her. She must have lived around the military to know that. There weren’t many bases on the Upper Peninsula, though. Not to his knowledge, at least. “I just got out of the Army.”
“And why did you come here?”
He noted how she turned the tables on him. Maybe she needed a break from his questions. It was only fair. “My family is here, so I came back so I could reconnect.”
“Sounds like a smart idea.”
He didn’t know how smart it was. To his brothers, Jaxon would always be the little brother who left home. The little brother who wasn’t capable of making decisions but who needed to be coddled.
Jaxon had enjoyed his time away. He’d been able to be his own person. He’d led a group of men who’d looked up to him. It was quite the change from his home life.
He was beginning to see why his questions had made Abby uncomfortable. Maybe he should have stuck to talking about the weather or sports.
“Turn here.” Abby pointed to a gravel lane up ahead.
Jaxon did as she said. The road narrowed as they continued to climb upward. The engine roared into lower gear. Gravel kicked out beneath the tires. The trees moved in closer.
“How did you ever find this place?” Jaxon glanced around, realizing this wasn’t the kind of location where you wanted to break down or get lost—and he was from this area. “It’s one of the more secluded cabins around here, and I’ve been to a lot of them. When I was in high school, I used to work in maintenance for one of the rental agencies in Fog Lake.”
“Is that right?” A quiver rattled Abby’s words, and she cleared her throat. “I don’t know what to say. I was looking online and came across this place and thought it would be perfect. What can I say? Advertising works.”
“I see.”
“Turn here.” She directed him up a dirt path that splintered from the gravel road.
The closer they got to her house, the more Jaxon sensed her nerves. It seemed as though Abby tried to conceal them, but it was evident, almost like her body was giving off a telltale vibe.
A moment later, they pulled to a stop in front of a small cabin surrounded by nothing but woods. Miles and miles of woods.
“Here we are.” Abby’s skin looked even paler than it had before as she stared at the place.
Her reaction only confirmed that she was terrified. Jaxon knew he needed to help, but he needed to figure out how.
“Do you mind if I walk you up?” He softened his voice, trying not to scare her off.
After a moment of silence, Abby nodded. “Sure. Just . . . be careful.”
“Be careful?” What did she mean by that?
She shrugged. “I mean, there are bears around here and everything. You know . . .”
Jaxon knew only that this woman was in trouble, and that thought made his stomach churn as memories of Iraq tried to pummel him.
Abby attempted to hide the tremor that claimed her muscles again. It had been there, almost dormant during the drive. But it was definitely still there, still present and trying to claw to the surface.
As she reached for the door handle, her shaking became more uncontrollable. Abby pulled her hand back into her lap before Jaxon could see it. He seemed observant. He’d probably already noticed.
She stepped out of the truck, her lungs tight. What if he was here? The Executioner?
Abby glanced around. The sun had begun to sink lower now. A lone bird seemed to squawk a warning. Dry leaves scraped against the ground like a killer dragging his weapon.
She flinched, her mind drifting back to earlier today.
Earlier to when she’d been reading on the couch, drinking coffee, and had glanced out the window.
The action had been casual, without any real reason except to look at the mountains.
The Executioner had stood there. Somehow, she’d instinctively known it was him.
He stared at the cabin, almost as if he were waiting for her to appear in that very window.
Abby had nearly passed out.
Then she’d done the only thing she knew to do—she’d taken off out the back door. He hadn’t even chased her. He didn’t need to.
Because Abby knew what that man would do to her if he caught her.
“Abby?”
She let out a half-gasp, half-scream. As her thoughts came back to the present, she saw Jaxon standing there. He stared at her as if she’d lost her mind.
He touched her elbow. Part of Abby wanted to shoo him away, but she was thankful for his help—even if his touch did send a tingle down her spine.
Tingles down her spine had always gotten her in trouble, and she had no desire to take it any further. Dating, romance, men—they were all a mistake she’d never make again. She was better off being alone, even if being alone felt like a miserable way to live.
“You okay?” Jaxon peered at her, seeming to see right through her façade and into the depths of her soul.
The realization was unnerving, to say the least. The more closed off she was, the better. Self-preservation had to take center stage.
“Of course, of course. I’m fine. Just trying to get my footing again after everything that happened.” She touched her head, reaching for the spot she’d hit when she fell. It throbbed again, though she wondered if the headache was more situational than physical. Either way, it hurt.
Jaxon didn’t say anything, but something about the look in his eyes indicated he didn’t believe her. Abby remained silent, not wanting to give up any more than necessary. Carefully, Jaxon helped her to the steps of her cabin.
She froze on the porch. Her door was cracked open. She hadn’t left it like that. Not the front door. She’d kept this place locked up tight, and she’d fled out the back door.
“Wait here.” Jaxon bristled, his muscles tightening as his broad chest blocked her from the doorway. “Let me make sure everything is clear inside.”
It was almost as if Jaxon knew she was in danger. But that was impossi
ble, right? He didn’t know who she really was.
She’d told people she’d gone on a hike and had gotten lost. She hadn’t said anything to him when he’d rescued her . . . right? It was all a blur.
Even as Abby tried to reassure herself, her head began to pound again. This time, she knew for a fact it wasn’t from her injury but from her lies.
Jaxon slipped inside.
She’d never wanted to live with pretenses like this. But Abby had been left with no other choice. She didn’t know what else she could do right now, and she hoped people might forgive her if they found out the startling truth.
Everything quieted around her. The squawking bird even went silent. Did it know something she didn’t?
Her lungs filled with cement again, and she glanced around.
Was the Executioner here? Was he watching?
Or what if he was inside with Jaxon? What if something had happened to the Good Samaritan who’d rescued her?
Please, God . . . protect him. And, if I’m not asking too much, please protect me too. A whimper escaped from her lips as the events leading up to this moment pummeled her. I didn’t know . . . if I had, I would have done things differently back in Georgia.
Georgia . . . where she was really from. Where she owned a bakery. Where people knew her as Abby Brennan.
She glanced at the door, feeling a panic attack coming on. She couldn’t breathe. Her muscles trembled so badly they nearly vibrated. Her eyes couldn’t stop darting around.
She shouldn’t have come back here.
But it was too late now.
What if the Executioner had hurt Jaxon? Maybe Abby needed to go check on him. So why did she feel rooted to this spot, like she was a statue unable to move?
A footfall sounded beside her. A gargled scream escaped from her lips as she twirled, ready to run again.
“It’s just me,” Jaxon murmured. He started to reach for her but dropped his hand.
Abby nodded, probably too quickly. Her heart still raced out of control.
It was Jaxon. He was okay. He was alive.
And, for just a moment at least, Abby felt safe again.
“Sorry. I’m jumpy.”
“Falls can do that to a person.” Was he being sincere? Did he suspect there was more to her story?
“It looks clear inside.” He shifted, hesitated a moment, and then shook his head. “But I’m not comfortable leaving you here.”
Leaving her here? The thought caused spikes of fear to shoot up her spine. She had no one to depend on right now but herself.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Abby could barely croak out the words.
Jaxon leaned closer, his studious eyes watching her every expression. “How are you going to get help if you need it? You probably don’t even have cell phone service out here, do you?”
“I actually didn’t even bring a phone with me.” Abby didn’t tell him the real reason behind that. She didn’t want to be traced and couldn’t take any chances. It hadn’t done any good, though. The Executioner had found her anyway.
Jaxon raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Okay, so no phone. What about your car?”
“What about my car?” Abby wondered what Jaxon was getting at. He should clearly be able to see it in the driveway beside the house.
He nodded toward the sedan. “You have two flat tires.”
“What?” Abby’s gaze swerved toward the vehicle.
He was right.
Her tires were deflated and uneven.
A hollow feeling formed in her stomach, followed by a surge of panic.
The Executioner had known she was going to come back, hadn’t he?
He’d anticipated it. Why would he do that? What would it prove?
The skin on her neck rose, and she glanced around.
He’d done it to trap her here with no means of escape.
He wanted to finish what he started.
In fact, he was probably hiding in those woods now, watching her and waiting for an opportunity to make his next move.
Chapter Six
Jaxon watched as Abby’s face turned even paler. Her eyes twitched, and tremors claimed her limbs again.
He stiffened, sensing she was on the verge of panic.
He’d planned on checking her tires to see what had happened to them, but he couldn’t leave her in this state, even to go a few steps away. He had no doubt her car had been sabotaged.
Abby stepped back, her gaze swerving around them. Her breaths came fast and furious, and Jaxon could sense the fear radiating from her body. She only stopped backing up when her legs hit the steps behind her, nearly toppling her.
“Abby?” The hair on Jaxon’s neck rose as he watched her—as more memories battered him. He desperately wanted to forget his failures, but the memories kept flashing back and putting him in his place.
Her wide eyes met his. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
“Okay . . .” He still wasn’t sure what set her off. He didn’t see anything dangerous around them. “Do you want to grab anything?”
“No. We need to leave now. Please.” Desperation cracked her voice. Abby continued to look around, as if she expected someone to emerge from the woods wielding a knife or gun.
He had no idea if the danger was real or imagined, but, for Abby’s mental health, he wouldn’t stick around to find out. She could worry about her belongings later.
“Let’s go.” Jaxon led her to his truck and tucked her inside. Her eyes continued to dart around and her limbs trembled uncontrollably.
He cranked the engine and pulled away from the property. Abby’s shoulders remained tense until the cabin disappeared from sight. Even then, she remained uptight—just not quite as neurotic.
Jaxon didn’t ask questions. Not yet. But he was a little more than curious.
The woman obviously couldn’t stay at her cabin. She had no phone. No car. Probably no money.
Jaxon would take her to a hotel, but he knew they were all booked this week with two different corporate outings in town. He could take her to stay with one of his family members, but doing so would put either Ansley, Harper, or Brynlee in danger.
He didn’t want to risk that.
Jaxon drove silently, giving Abby some space until they reached a parking lot near the town’s namesake—Fog Lake. He pulled in at a spot facing the water and put his truck in Park. Heat blew through the vents, warming them and offering the steady noise of air flow.
He turned to Abby. “I want to help you, but first you need to tell me what’s going on.”
She stared out the front window, her breathing entirely too shallow.
Jaxon waited. He had all the time in the world. He didn’t have a family to rush home to. He was out of the military now and working odd jobs until he figured out his future.
The sun was almost about to disappear on the picturesque horizon. What a day this had turned out to be.
He remained silent. Enough time passed that Jaxon wondered if Abby would say anything at all. What was running through that head of hers?
“Someone’s trying to kill me.” Abby rubbed her throat, almost as if it hurt to say the words.
“Who?”
She quickly shrugged before shaking her head equally as quickly. “I don’t know.”
Jaxon stared at her, waiting for more. He didn’t want to interrogate her. He preferred that she shared on her own.
But would she?
Still nothing.
She rubbed her hands on her jeans. Finally, she opened her door and . . . hurled.
Jaxon grabbed a tissue from the compartment beside him and handed it to her. She closed the door, shutting out the cool breeze before wiping her mouth and whispering, “Thank you.”
He wished he had more to offer her—some water maybe—but he had nothing.
“Is there anything else you can tell me?”
Her hand remained at her throat, as if she might get sick again. “I don’t know anything else. I started receiving threats
a couple months ago. Noticed someone following me. Realized someone had been in my home. That’s when I ran. I knew I had to get away. I came here, hoping this guy would leave me alone. I was wrong.”
Jaxon’s heart pounded in his ears. Her ordeal sounded horrific and justified her strong reaction. “We need to tell Luke—Sheriff Wilder.”
“No!” Abby turned to him, her eyes wide. “I don’t want to bring the police into this. I just want to disappear.”
“How will that help anything? The police can protect you—”
“You don’t understand . . .” She forcefully shook her head.
“Explain it to me then.” Jaxon kept his voice calm.
She stared out the window and sucked in shaky breaths. Occasionally, something that sounded close to a whimper seemed to rumble in her chest. “Can we keep this just between us? Please?”
Jaxon knew the woman didn’t owe him anything. But he really wanted more details. Could he keep Abby’s secret? Yes. Would he? If he promised, then he’d have no other choice.
Finally, he let out a breath. “I suppose I can do that.”
“Thank you.”
“Is there anyone you can call?”
“No.” She said the word so softly that Jaxon barely heard her. She reached for the door handle, as if she’d mentally changed gears. “I need to get out of your hair. I just—”
“I know a place where you can stay.”
She froze. “I don’t have much money.”
“There’s no cost.”
She stared at him as if trying to get a read on the situation.
He shrugged. “I have an apartment above my place. You can stay there. No strings attached. It’s clean and warm. You’ll be safe.”
“I couldn’t possibly—”
“What other choice do you have?” Jaxon hated to remind her of the grim reality, but he felt it was his duty.
Abby remained quiet for a moment, her trembles dying down some. “None, I guess.”
“I won’t be far away. And you look like you could use some rest.”
Abby’s eyes appeared glazed, and she kept touching the back of her head. She wasn’t in a good position to search for places to stay and ways to pay for it. Worry flooded through Jaxon.
Line of Duty Page 3