Page 44

Staying low, she reached the counter, rounded to the narrow opening, and slid behind it. It was darker back here with no windows to let in light. She moved slowly, careful not to bump herself, the cane, or the cumbersome old-lady purse into anything.

She prayed they’d give up and go away.

A door opened and closed.

“Don’t just stand there. Search for her.” This was a new voice. There were three of them. “She’s gotta be here somewhere.”

How did they know?

Someone must’ve seen her come in. But who? And how did they recognize her?

She crawled behind a rolling cart of books and opened her phone, aiming the screen away from the men. After checking twice to make sure it was silenced, she started to dial 911.

But stopped, fearing they’d hear the operator’s voice on the line.

She texted Nathan instead.

I’m trapped in the library. They’re here. Help!

He responded with a thumbs-up that felt all wrong, considering the situation. But he was on it.

Shoving her phone into her pocket, she prayed the police would arrive before the men found her.

It was too dark back here to make out much, but red glowed from around a corner at the back of the room. An exit? The guard might be there.

But he might not.

A thump, followed by a low curse word, came from the direction of the librarian’s desk.

Someone was closing in.

She couldn’t wait. She had to try.

Slowly, slowly, she crept toward that red glow. Around carts and boxes and chairs and desks, careful not to bump anything.

Her foot caught something soft, and she looked down.

It was a leg. A leg connected to a body, lying on the floor.

No.

She crouched to confirm her suspicion.

It was the librarian. Brooklynn found her neck and felt for a pulse. It was there. Faint, but there.

She wasn’t dead, thank heavens.

Creeping toward the door, she prayed the woman would stay unconscious until this was over.

She followed the back wall to an open doorway, then peeked into a hallway.

There was an exit just a few feet away.

On the other end…

“Got her!” A man bolted her direction.

She lifted the cane like a bat and swung at his head.

It connected. He paused, unsteady.

Glared at her, murder in his eyes.

She jabbed the cane again, this time hitting his forehead.

He fell back, and she lurched for the door.

He reached out, grabbed the cane. She let go of her only weapon, pushed through the exit, and bolted outside.

“Help!” She screamed, running toward the front of the building. If her Uber driver was there, she could escape.

But when she rounded the corner, a man spotted her and shouted, “Over here!” He sprinted toward her.

She shifted and pushed herself faster.

The structure next door was dark.

Beyond that were more empty office buildings. If she could make it to the B and B across the street…

But she wouldn’t. No chance.

Somebody needed to drive by, to give her cover or stop and help. Where were the police? She needed a stranger, someone.

Footsteps closed in behind her.

Her foot landed partly in a hole, and she twisted her ankle, stumbling. Pain shot up her leg, but she pressed on.

A hand gripped her wig and yanked it off.

A scream crawled up her throat, but terror cut off her air.

An oof and a thud had her glancing back. Two men, on the ground.

Before she could register what was happening, one popped up, wrapped an arm around her waist, and propelled her forward. The man dragged her behind the building and toward the forest.

She fought, trying to get away.

“Stop. Brooklynn. It’s me.”

Forbes?

He was here? Saving her—again?

How? How had he found her?

They reached the edge of the sparse forest as shouts rang behind them.

“Down! On the ground!” Forbes urged her, and she went to her knees, then face down on the damp forest floor.

He lay on top of her, his body warm and sheltering. “Shh-shh.” The sound was barely more than a breath in her ear. “Don’t move.”

She was sucking in air, trying to be quiet.

“I’ve got you.” The words infused confidence, as if Forbes’s presence was all she’d required.

But the men were closing in.

He shifted against her. She craned her neck and caught the glint of a handgun as he pulled it from beneath his jacket.

“Where’d she go?” A man’s voice was too close.

“I don’t know.” This one sounded woozy. Forbes had obviously done more than just knock him over.

“How could you lose her?”

That voice was familiar, but the words were uttered so low that she couldn’t place it.

But she had a bad, bad feeling about it.

“Find her,” that same familiar voice said.

“I’m working on it.”

They were coming. Everything inside her trembled with terror.

Forbes was poised and ready. If someone spotted them, Forbes would shoot. And then the men would know exactly where they were. Could Forbes fight them all off? Or would he be killed? Would she?

A man was coming, moving slowly, swinging his flashlight ahead of him, checking his phone screen every so often.

The light skimmed over Forbes’s arm, but he wore a dark jacket. Dark jeans. That must be why he was lying on top of her, not just to shield her, but to hide her outfit.

But it probably showed. And her sneakers, so bright. What a fool she’d been to think she could slip in and out of town without notice.

But the man didn’t see them, just continued past, moving deeper into the woods.

He was slight with blond hair, and she recognized him from the photos she’d taken. Niles.

Nearer the road, other men were calling out to each other occasionally. Frustrated sounds of failure.

Forbes, handgun out, whispered, “Don’t move.”

Before she could respond, he was up and creeping silently. Following Niles.

He was a few feet behind him when Niles started to spin. “Hey?—!”

Forbes lunged, and his handgun came down hard against the man’s head, cutting off his shout.

Before Niles could regain his equilibrium, Forbes grabbed his weapon and tossed it, then slipped an arm around his neck and squeezed.

Horrified, Brooklynn covered her mouth with both hands, watching, as Forbes slowly lowered the blond man to the ground.

Seconds passed. Long, long seconds.

Was Forbes killing him? Would he do that?

To keep her safe, he would.

When Niles was lying flat on the damp bracken, Forbes returned to her. “Come on.”

She was too scared to move, but she couldn’t stay there, either.

He helped her up and urged her through the woods, going behind the library until they were a good hundred yards past it.

The voices behind her faded until she could no longer hear them.

Only then did she and Forbes return to the two-lane highway that extended the length of this section of coast. They crossed and slipped into the alley parallel to Center Street. Though she wanted to run, he kept a steady pace, holding her hand as if they were out for a stroll.

Her gallery and apartment were four blocks ahead. Was that their destination?

Surely not.

About a block down, Forbes let go of her hand and pulled keys from his pocket.

Ahead, a red sedan’s lights blinked.

She reached the passenger side and settled inside.

He rounded the car, climbed in behind the wheel, and hit the gas.