Love Inspired Suspense July 2015 #1 (53 page)

She brushed the unwanted flutters aside and helped him turn the boat over. He had said his shoulder was healing well, but his arm was still in the sling. She wasn't going to chance him tearing something.

He began using the towel to dry off the hull and wipe away any clinging sand. “If we run the duct tape over the gunnel, around the hull and back over the other side, that should hold it until we get back.”

She took the towel from him and shook the sand from it, then dropped to her knees to resume wiping down the hull. She was determined to stay busy. Because as long as she kept her focus on the task at hand, it wouldn't allow room for other thoughts.

Such as how Blake's accusation filled her head with all kinds of impossible dreams.

And how Hunter's admission sent both hope and dread surging through her at the same time.

And how, no matter how much she tried not to, she couldn't help wondering what it would be like to be loved by a man like Hunter.

SIX

H
unter cruised down Fifth Street, windows open. The noonday air was warm, but not uncomfortably so. Besides, the wind on his face felt good. Maybe the fresh air would help to blow some of the cobwebs from his brain.

He needed to get his head back on straight, something that wasn't likely to happen while he was seeing Meagan almost every day. Just six weeks ago, life had seemed simple. He had his job, his boys Sunday school class and his volunteer work with the Cedar Key National Wildlife Refuge. And few outside distractions.

Then he'd met Meagan Berry, and she'd turned his ordered life upside down.

She was a bundle of contradictions. She was strong and self-sufficient enough to roll up her sleeves and change a flat tire, but possessed an underlying vulnerability that reached right in and grabbed him by the heart. She was brave enough to fake her own death and travel all the way across the country to escape her psycho ex-fiancé, but mentally shut down when faced with his anger.

Except yesterday, on Snake Key. He'd been so upset with her for putting herself in danger, he had wanted to shake her. Instead, he had just yelled at her. And she had stood up to him and yelled right back. Maybe she'd felt more confident with Blake there. Or maybe she was starting to see that he was different from the other men she had known, that she had no reason to fear him. That no matter what happened, he would never, ever lay an abusive hand on a woman.

Now he had to pick her up for work. Today's hours were one to six. And whether the damage was done to her boat six weeks ago or the day before yesterday, he wasn't willing to let her go anywhere alone.

As he pulled into Meagan's driveway, Sydney Tanner waved at him from the end of the road. She held a leash, its other end attached to her dachshund, Chandler. As soon as he stepped from the cruiser, she held up an envelope and called to him.

“I have mail for Meagan.”

She picked up her pace, hurrying toward him. Chandler broke into a run in front of her, ears flopping and stubby little legs a blur. They took a diagonal path through Meagan's front yard and met him at the truck.

“This was in my mailbox. When I saw Meagan's name and address on it, I figured the mailman put it in the wrong box. But it's not stamped.”

Hunter took the envelope and looked at its front. Meagan's name and address were printed in the center, but other than that, it was blank. There was no return address, no postage stamp.

Uneasiness crept along his spine. This wasn't delivered by the postman. Someone had chosen a random box a block away, where he could leave it unobserved. And he would know that, in a small town like Cedar Key, where everyone knew everyone else, chances were good the envelope would get to its addressee.

Pressure against his pant leg drew Hunter's attention downward. Chandler stood staring up at him, front paw raised and tail wagging. Hunter slid the envelope into his shirt pocket and squatted to scratch the dog's neck and cheeks. The tail picked up speed, and the long, pink tongue shot in and out, bathing both of his palms and forearms.

The front door to the house swung open, and Meagan stepped out. She was smiling, and there was a softness in her eyes. “You must like dogs.”

“I like animals, period. All kinds.” He straightened, and Sydney bade them farewell to finish Chandler's middle-of-the-day walk.

Hunter pulled the envelope from his pocket and showed it to Meagan. “Sydney stopped to deliver a piece of mail that was left in her box.”

Furrows settled between Meagan's brows. She had apparently noticed the lack of a stamp and return address.

“I'm sure if there were any prints left on the envelope, they would be destroyed, since Sydney carried it all the way here from her box, then handed it to me. But I don't want to handle the contents without gloves.”

He went to the patrol car and pulled a pair of latex ones from the trunk. Once he'd removed and unfolded the page, Meagan read the words aloud, her voice as thin as the paper from which she was reading.

“Why won't you die? He's no longer here, so you don't deserve to be, either.”

Hunter stepped closer so he could put his arm across her shoulders, and then pulled her closer still. A head shorter than his six feet, her small frame fit well against his side, and he wanted to wrap her in his arms and shield her from whatever danger was out there. She had finally gotten a reprieve. It had lasted less than two weeks.

She leaned into him, accepting the comfort he was offering. “He's back.” Her voice was still weak, with a slight waver. “Or maybe he never left. Maybe that white sedan had nothing to do with me.”

“Either way, we've got to stay on guard.” Hunter looked around them, across the street, up and down Fifth, between the houses. Someone could have them in his sights at that very moment, aiming, preparing to take a shot.

“Let's get in the car. It's not safe to stand outside.” He led her to the passenger's side and helped her in, then circled around to get behind the wheel. After he had backed out of her driveway and started down Fifth, he looked over at her. Her eyes were closed, and her head was resting against the seat. But the tight jaw and firm grip on the armrest told him that she wasn't relaxed.

He reached across and covered her hand with his. “We'll catch him. Now that he's back, we'll set a trap. It's just a matter of time till he makes a mistake and someone sees him.”

She opened her eyes and let her head roll to the side until she was facing him. “In the meantime, I go back to being a prisoner.”

“If you get to where you can't stand it anymore and just have to get away, we'll all go with you—Blake, Joe and me.” He smiled over at her, summoning a cheer he didn't feel. “We can even take the tour over to Seahorse Key, let you pretend you're a tourist.”

She frowned, and her eyes darkened. “Seahorse Key doesn't hold the appeal that it once did. I can't get the plane crash out of my mind, the fact that I wasn't able to save the pilot. I know it's silly. I know he was already dead, that there wasn't anything I could do for him. But I keep seeing the water creeping up his face, covering his mouth, his nose...”

She closed her eyes, and a shudder shook her shoulders. Hunter squeezed her hand, then eased to a stop in front of Darci's store and shifted into Park. But Meagan made no move to get out.

“I think the image has haunted me so much because of my fear of the water. It started when I was six. We were over at some friends' house having a cookout. Mom was pregnant with my sister and it was hot, so she was inside in the air-conditioning. My dad was helping his friend man the grill, but they had been drinking for the last hour and were getting pretty wasted. My mom had warned me to stay away from the pool, but my friend convinced me to go inside the gate with her. Then she thought it would be funny to push me in.”

“Great friend.”

“She was five and had been swimming since she was two. So she didn't know any better. Anyway, they almost didn't get me out in time. I had stopped breathing, and they had to do CPR. Ever since, I've been terrified of drowning.”

“But you've learned to swim.”

She gave him a weak smile. There was a touch of pride in it. “Yes, I did. Edmund knew I couldn't swim, knew how terrified I was of the water. So I figured if I could secretly learn, I could use my new skill to escape, and he would never suspect. So I watched YouTube videos and practiced in the pool when neither Edmund nor Lou were around.”

“That's pretty impressive.” Not just the fact that she was able to forge ahead through her fear, but the fact that she'd done it alone. The more Hunter learned about Meagan, the more he admired her. She was a special lady. After all she'd been through, she deserved someone who appreciated her spunk and talent and concern for others, someone who would love and respect her, and treat her with care and tenderness.

But he wasn't that man.

He reached across to squeeze her shoulder. “I'm sorry you had to witness that. But don't beat yourself up. There was nothing you could have done. Even if the impact hadn't killed him, you would have only had time to save one.”

“I would have had to choose who lived and who died. That would have been horrible.” She managed another weak smile. “I guess no matter what happens, it could have always been worse. At least he was already gone.”

She stepped from the car and, after thanking him for the ride, closed the door. As he pulled away from the curb, her words circled through his mind:
At least he was already gone.

Was there someone who didn't know that? Was there some girlfriend or family member of the pilot who blamed Meagan for not trying to save him? Maybe all the death threats had nothing to do with Charlie. Maybe the source was much closer than California. Maybe it had all started right here in Cedar Key.

Hunter turned the car around and headed toward the police station. The first thing he would do was get the autopsy report. The final one wouldn't be ready for some time yet, but the department could request a preliminary.

Then, regardless of what the autopsy showed, they would do some investigation into the pilot's life. Every family member, any romantic interests, each friend. Anyone who'd had anything to do with the man for the past year.

Hunter pulled into the small parking area in front of the police station. This afternoon, they would pass his ideas on to Levy County. And they would work together to get this thing solved.

As he swung open the glass door and stepped inside, a weight lifted from his shoulders. He drew in a long, unimpeded breath and straightened his spine.

After more a month of searching for answers, he had finally come up with something that made sense.

* * *

Mouthwatering aromas filled the air—eggs, bacon, sausages and hotcakes—along with the clinking of silverware against porcelain and the hum of a dozen conversations. Ken's Cedar Keyside Diner was busy this morning. With its fun, casual atmosphere and fantastic breakfasts, Ken's was busy most mornings.

Hunter drew in a fragrant breath, and his stomach rumbled. Two meals were on their way. Meagan had chosen an Oldsmobile Omelet, and after some deliberation, he had gone with the Packard Omelet. There were also the Chevy Meals and the Autobahn Delights to choose from. The Blown Engine Meal was beyond his capabilities—it could serve a small army.

Meagan smiled over at him. “You could have just run me by The Market to restock on eggs and milk.”

“We'll do that on the way home tonight. You have to admit, this is way more fun than breakfast by yourself.” Having Meagan's company was always more fun than eating alone.

Before she could respond, his cell phone started to ring. He swiped the screen and pressed it to his ear. It was Detective Gorman with Levy County. As Gorman began to relay what he had learned, Hunter's pulse picked up and hope spiked through him. He had told Meagan of his suspicions that the threats might be related to the death of the pilot. Based on Gorman's information, chances were good that he was right.

By the time he disconnected the call several minutes later, Meagan was leaning toward him, eyes wide and body rigid with anticipation. He slid the phone back into its case and watched the waitress approach. Meagan would have to wait a few seconds longer.

After blessing the food and spreading a napkin in his lap, Hunter locked eyes with her. “That was Levy County. And it looks like we're finally getting somewhere.”

“Really?” Meagan's anticipation had turned to excitement.

“Yep. The pilot didn't have a current wife or girlfriend. And neither of his two exes seemed upset enough about his death to go after you for it. But the detectives uncovered some pretty interesting things about the pilot's sister.”

He picked up his fork and cut off the end of his omelet. “The name's Sally Ferguson. She's had a lot of mental problems over the years. They started showing up when she was thirteen. At sixteen, she had a tiff with her best friend, a fight over a guy.”

Meagan took a swig of orange juice and smiled. “Isn't that usually what sixteen-year-old girls fight over?”

“You've got a point. Except in this case, the friend turned up dead.”

“Whoa, that's a pretty serious disagreement. Did they charge Sally with it?”

“No. The girl drowned in Sally's family's pool. Her blood-alcohol level was almost double the legal limit for driving. Everyone knew the two of them were at odds, fighting over this guy. But Sally claimed that her friend was having some problems with him and needed a girl to talk to. The two of them got into Sally's dad's liquor stash. Apparently once the friend got started, she wouldn't stop. Sally claimed her friend got really inebriated, then fell into the pool.”

“That sounds legitimate.”

“Except that there was some bruising around the dead girl's neck and shoulders. And Sally had scratch marks on her arms.”

“
That
sounds suspicious.”

“Yeah, that's what the investigators thought.” He took another bite of omelet before continuing. “But Sally claimed that she had dived in to try to save her, and the drowning girl panicked and fought her, like drowning people often do. The investigation pretty much stopped there. Either the evidence was too inconclusive, or her dad kept it from going any further. He was some big-time lawyer with deep pockets.”

“Any other run-ins with the law? Or add-on bodies?”

“That was it as far as suspicious deaths. But over the next couple of years, her mental condition deteriorated, and she was in and out of hospitals. For the past decade, she's been under the care of the pilot. He made sure she took her meds the way she was supposed to, and she apparently functioned pretty well. But for the past month and a half, she's been on her own. I'm betting she hasn't touched a pill since that plane went down.”