Page 3 of Dangerous Affair (The Phoenix Three #2)

Q uinn Sullivan hurriedly packed her suitcase.

She wanted to be gone before Jasper returned.

What she thought of as a temporary fling while they were both in California covering the wildfires differed from Jasper’s growing possessiveness.

When they’d first hooked up, he was fun, but now, if she even said hello to another man, he would get jealous and mentally abusive. That was shit she didn’t put up with.

This morning he’d hurled insults at her after she’d told him she planned to leave soon. According to him, she was a cold bitch and only cared about herself.

“You’ll leave with me, and I’m not ready yet,” he’d said. He’d sneered at her then. “What’s the big deal? There’s no place important you need to be. You just take pictures of kids, no big deal.”

Jasper hadn’t been the first man to tell her that her work wasn’t important, and that her priority should be him.

He had no idea how much of a trigger hearing him say that was.

She’d told him she was leaving, and he didn’t want to hear her, so she wasn’t waiting around to have another fight with him.

He was a photojournalist embedded with a team of hotshots, and she was covering the devastation left in the wake of the fires, especially the children who’d lost their homes. Also a photojournalist, children were her forte.

She’d documented the horrors of war on children, the gaunt faces of hungry children in Africa, the fragile bodies of abused children living on the streets of cities around the world.

Wherever children were suffering, she went.

Her hope was that her photos would make a difference in the lives of those lost souls.

That people seeing them would feel compelled to reach out a helping hand however they could.

When Jasper had asked her to stay with him in the house he was renting, she’d first refused.

She was a nomad and didn’t do relationships.

He’d convinced her that he didn’t either, and when it was time to leave—a few weeks at the most—they’d go their separate ways.

The icing on the cake, though, was the money she’d be saving on a hotel room.

She should have listened to that little voice telling her staying with him was a mistake.

She carried her suitcase into the second bedroom.

Jasper never went in there, so if he did come back before she could leave, he wouldn’t see it.

Her cameras and accessories were her life and needed to be packed carefully to prevent damage while traveling.

Some of her accessories were on the dining room table along with Jasper’s.

She was almost finished packing everything up when she heard Jasper’s car arrive.

Panicked, she grabbed her thumb drives and stuffed them in her camera bag.

Her rental car was parked out front, so he would know she was here.

She ran to the spare bedroom, put the bag in with her suitcase, then left the room, closing the door behind her.

The last thing she wanted to do was talk to him right then, and the only thing she could think to do was take a shower.

He never bothered her when she was in the bathroom.

She’d just locked herself in when she heard him come into the house.

He was talking, and at first, she thought he’d brought someone home with him, but after a minute of listening, she realized he was on the phone.

The bathroom door was thin plywood, and Jasper had a loud voice. She could hear his conversation.

“I told him I’d give him the photos for a million dollars,” Jasper said.

Huh?

“Well, he’s not happy, but what can he do? If he doesn’t pay, I’ll release the photos to the news outlets. See how he likes that. He sure as hell doesn’t want the world to know kids are getting sick because of him.”

Who wasn’t happy, and why were children getting sick? She put her ear to the door to hear better.

“Yeah, it was pure luck that I stumbled on their dumping ground when I was in Hope Corner.”

Dumping ground for what, and where was Hope Corner? He’d told her that he’d been in West Virginia before coming to California. Was that where it was?

“Million-dollar payday, dude.”

Who was he talking to?

“No, just hang tight. I’ll let you know when the meet is. I’ll make sure it’s in a public place where you can watch my back. Later, man.”

Quinn took a second to panic that Jasper would be suspicious she’d heard the conversation.

Do something , she screamed at herself. The shower!

She hurried and turned it on. She had no intention of disrobing and getting in.

If Jasper did suspect she heard him, she wasn’t about to be naked if he forced his way into the bathroom.

“Quinn?” He knocked on the door.

“Oh, hey. You’re back already? I’m in the shower. Be out in a few minutes.” Or never.

“Walked out without my wallet. Why don’t you put on something pretty tonight, and we’ll go out to dinner.”

“I’d love that.” Not.

She left the shower running as she put her ear back to the door. After a good ten minutes of silence, she turned off the shower and ventured out. The relief that he wasn’t tricking her and waiting for her to emerge was so great that she almost fell to her knees. But no time for that.

It was time to boogie.

* * *

Quinn was hot, hungry, and tired. She’d been in Hope Corner for three days and had nothing to show for her efforts.

She had found a lake and was working her way around it, looking for any sign of illegal dumping.

She had also found a textile plant, a big one, but it wasn’t on the lake.

It was about a half mile from Black Bear Lake, and the plant would have barrels of dye and other chemicals, so it seemed possible it was the place Jasper was talking about.

She’d briefly stopped home to do some research after leaving California. Hope Corner was in the Appalachian Mountains in West Virginia. After deciding this had to be where Jasper was talking about, she’d made a reservation in a motel in the small town.

The people here were tight-lipped, and her inquiries about children getting sick were met with silence until this afternoon.

A man who she wouldn’t want to meet up with in a dark alley told her it was none of her business when she’d asked her questions and that she wasn’t welcome in Hope Corner.

She was getting a little scared to be here, but if Jasper was right, children were getting sick.

What if they started dying? She couldn’t turn her back on that.

The little that she’d learned while here was that the largest employer was the mill, Hanson Textiles, Inc.

About 80 percent of the people in Hope Corner worked there.

What she needed to do was go home and regroup.

Take the time to research the mill, and if they were involved, how?

Who owned it? What chemicals did they use and what illnesses would those chemicals cause?

Then she’d call her friend Brett, a professor of environmental studies. Get his input on where to go with this.

First, she needed food, a shower, a glass of wine, and a good night’s sleep.

Oh, and she had to call her father. It was Wednesday.

The deal she’d made with him when she’d told him at nineteen that she was going to be a photojournalist was that she’d call him every Wednesday and Sunday evening when she was traveling.

Because she’d be traipsing the world, he needed to know she was safe. She hadn’t missed one promised call.

Too tired and sweaty to eat at a restaurant, she went through a fast-food drive-through.

Back at the motel, she grabbed her purse, her camera case, and the bag of food to take with her into the room.

Food first, then a shower. After she ate and was clean and in her comfy clothes, she’d call her father, then pour a glass of wine from the bottle in her room to enjoy while she went through today’s shots on her camera.

The motel still used actual keys to open the door. She should have thought to get it out while she was still in the car. With her camera bag strap over one shoulder and food in one hand, she fished around in her purse for the key with the other.

“There you are.” She slid the key into the lock, and as she opened the door, something hit her from behind, pushing her into the room. “Umph.” She tripped, and she dropped everything she was holding so she could put her hands down and catch herself to keep her face from hitting the floor.

Before she face-planted, an arm slid around her stomach and pulled her back against a body. “Hello, Quinn.”

She stilled. “Jasper?” What the devil was he doing here? After leaving him in California, she’d hoped to never see him again.

“I came for you,” he said, his breath hot on her neck.

“Let go of me.” When she tried to step away from him, he tightened his hold.

“I don’t think so. You left without a word. I have to wonder why.”

She tried to elbow him in the stomach, and he only laughed.

It never occurred to her that he’d follow her.

Even more alarming, how did he know she’d be in Hope Corner?

She pulled away from him again, and surprising her, he let go.

She stumbled a few steps, her foot landing on the bag with the hamburger and fries she’d dropped, smashing them.

“Damn it. That was my dinner.” She turned to face him and gasped at seeing him pointing a gun at her. “What the hell, Jasper? Put that thing away.”

“This is how it’s going to be. You’re coming with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” He laughed, and the sound of it sent shivers snaking down her spine.

“You have a choice, darling. You come with me, or I shoot you.” He picked up her camera bag. “All your equipment in here?”

“That I brought with me, yes. Why?”

“Let’s go.”