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“That’s a safe-deposit box key from the bank,” Mark said. “We have one too. Got the deed to the ranch and other important documents stored there. I thought you said you’d never been to Saratoga before. Is this yours?”

She nodded. “It is now.”

Matt threw up his hands in frustration. “More vague answers. What the hell is going on here, Bridget? Last night everything seemed fine. We show up today to find you packed up and ready to bail without a word.”

“I wanted to leave you a note,” she said, the words sounding lame even to her ears. She’d never intended to write them anything. She simply didn’t have the strength to say good-bye to them—not on paper and not in person.

“You wanted to leave a note?” Mark asked. “The same way Ellen left a note for you?”

“I want to tell you, but I can’t. I just can’t.”

“Dammit, Bridget. Why can’t you get it through that thick skull of yours that we want to help? We would never?—”

“What’s going on here?” Rodney stood at the door looking as blindsided as she felt.

She held out the key. “Mark brought me this. It’s from Ellen.”

Rodney walked closer, slowly, hesitantly. He took the key and letter from her. “I see.”

“Mark and Matt want to know, Rodney. Please.” She wasn’t anxious to continue their earlier argument, but she was tired of secrets, of running, of hiding.

Rodney looked at her and nodded slowly. “So tell them.”

She paused, her mind struggling to comprehend. Had she heard him correctly? “All of it?”

“All of it.”

She smiled tremulously. “It will be okay. We can trust them. They’ll help us. I know they will.” Please let that be true.

Rodney gave her an encouraging grin, then crossed the room, claiming a chair by the window. She was used to that pose. He was looking out, keeping his eyes peeled for the villain they’d spotted earlier this morning. “Just make it quick, kitten. Time’s not exactly on our side.”

She sat down on the bed and gestured to the other chair in the room. Matt claimed it while Mark joined her on the edge of the mattress.

“You’re worrying me, darlin’,” Mark said, grasping her hand. “What’s going on?”

“Honestly, it sounds like you’ve already figured most of it out on your own. I witnessed a murder. The killer is a very powerful, highly connected judge in the New York court system. By highly connected, I mean to politicians and the mob.”

Matt nodded. “Scary shit. That doesn’t explain why you’re in Saratoga using Todd and Steven’s inn as a safe house.”

Rodney stepped forward. “This isn’t a safe house. There have been two attempts made on Bridget’s life in the past six months.”

“Jesus,” Mark muttered.

Bridget took his hand in hers and squeezed. “I’m still alive, Mark. Rodney began to suspect there was someone dirty at the police department, someone who was feeding the locations of the safe houses to the judge and his hit man.”

“Hit man?” Matt shook his head. “I don’t like the sound of this at all.”

Bridget tried to offer a comforting smile. “Rodney and I decided to go rogue. We both cleaned out our bank accounts, and we took off for Saratoga in the dead of the night. We thought we’d be safe here because no one knew where we were.”

Mark wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “Bridget, you should have told us what was going on. We would have protected you.”

She was touched by the offer and overwhelmed once more by guilt. “We didn’t know who we could trust. It’s been just Rodney and me for so long. I guess we figured we could keep doing it on our own. I mean, I’m fine so far.”

Rodney walked to the window and carefully peered out. “Yeah, well, not for long if we don’t speed this up and get the hell out of here.”

Matt rose quickly “Why? What’s going on?”

“Bridget wasn’t able to identify the man who was with the judge the night he murdered her friend. Since then, she’s spotted him a couple of times—both times just before he attempted to kill her. I saw him in town this morning, coming out of the local hotel.”