Page 107 of Capturing You

But he couldn’t lie to Brooklynn anymore.

Maybe she’d hate him when she learned the truth, but if he fessed up, if he explained, then…maybe not. They could still be friends. Someday, if he ever found the murderers, they could be more than friends.

Forbes could have a real family, a real life, out of hiding.

It felt…impossible. The person he was now, his talents and faults. His personality. His fears and dreams. They’d all been shaped by that one terrible night.

Who would he be when he finally exposed the murderers and their crimes?

He wanted to know. He desperately wanted to move past the murders.

Brooklynn had barged into his life and his house and his thoughts.

Considering he could count the number of hours he’d known her, his feelings for her should scare him. But something about this whole thing seemed almost God-ordained.

Not that he believed God cared about him. But if He did, if Forbes could redeem himself in his own eyes and in God’s…

Maybe there was hope.

He exited the highway, and the Chevy followed.

Forbes snaked along the streets of Portland, hoping to lose them. No luck.

“Are they still back there?” she asked.

“Don’t worry.” He turned into the driveway that led to the retirement home and stopped at a guard gate, rolling down his window. In front of him, the spike strip was up.

They took security seriously at this retirement community, which was why Grandmother had chosen it.

The guard recognized him. “Morning, Mr. Baker.”

“Hey, Russ.” Forbes handed over his ID. “Listen, someone’s been following me. They’re in a black Chevy sedan.”

The man’s gray eyebrows lowered.

“You know how important Mrs. Ballentine’s security is,” Forbes added.

“Gotcha.” He peered behind Forbes, likely seeing Brooklynn, but he didn’t say anything as he spoke into a walkie-talkie. Then he opened the gate. “Thanks for the heads-up. We’ll take care of it.”

Forbes waited for the spike strip to lower before continuing past the guard and onto the manicured grounds. The road wound between tall trees, past flowerbeds and walking trails to the main entrance.

After parking, he opened the back door for Brooklynn. She’d dressed in navy yoga pants and a gray T-shirt two sizes too large, which she’d knotted at her trim waist. Her hair was tucked up into a baseball cap he’d found in Dad's closet.

The drab clothes and old hat did nothing to hide her beauty.

She reached back for her backpack and hiked it over her shoulder. She hadn’t wanted to leave her camera at the house, just in case the thugs broke in.

“Keep your head down.” He guided her toward the front doors. “I don’t want your face on the cameras.”

“I remember.” She glanced around, and he followed her gaze. This place dripped wealth and beauty like rainwater. It was a perfect summer day—and only the second time Brooklynn had been outside since she’d been chased by smugglers, yet there was no joy in her voice when she added, “Are you sure it’s safe?”

“The guard will stop them from coming in. They’re very good at what they do.”

She rubbed her lips together. The fear didn’t leave her eyes.

Not that he wanted her to be nervous, but it was good that she was. She needed to keep her guard up.

In the foyer, he greeted Cheri, the receptionist, pulling out his ID.